Julian Rosefeldt
The Soundmaker (Trilogy of Failure, Part I)

Germany, 2004, 3-channel film installation filmed on Super-16mm, transferred to DVD 16:9, 35 min

Co-produced by Thyssen-Bornemisza Art Contemporary T-B A21
The Soundmaker: Felix Kratzer
Set design: Leonie von Arnim
Director of photography: Christoph Krauss
Courtesy: Max Wigram Gallery, London

Julian Rosefeldt lives and works in Berlin. Since 1998 he has participated in major exhibitions in Germany and internationally including: Printemps de Septembre, Toulouse (2006); Sonambiente, Berlin (2006); Dark Places, Santa Monica Museum of Art (2006); Prague Biennial (2005); and São Paolo Biennale (2004). Solo exhibitions include Chapter Arts Centre, Cardiff (2006); BALTIC Centre for Contemporary Art, Gateshead (2004); Kunst-Werke, Berlin (2004); and Hamburger Bahnhof, Berlin (2002). www.maxwigram.com

All of Rosefeldt’s works are elaborate mises en scène, acting out the uncertain connection between the deliberate absurdity of the situations staged and the apathy of the events unfolding. He is known for his epic multi-channel film installations, in particular three major works (Stunned Man, The Soundmaker, The Perfectionist) that come under the title Trilogy of Failure (2004–06).

The Soundmaker consists of three projections. While the two outer ones show a Foley artist from two different camera perspectives in his cramped, improvised sound studio, the centre projection shows the scene for which the sounds are being made. The actor in this film sequence – the same person as the Foley artist – is stacking up all the furniture in the middle of his one-room apartment. The assumption that the film is about a filmmaker who is making the sound for his film with the simplest available means begins to waver as, unexpectedly, the two protagonists leave their rooms for a moment and disappear from the camera’s view. It seems as if the two have exchanged places. Is the Foley artist now standing in the apartment and the other person in the sound studio? Why is the person in the apartment carefully putting the stacked-up furniture back in its place? It suddenly also seems unclear whether the action is determining the sound, or perhaps the reverse. More and more, the familiar becomes surreal. Rosefeldt here makes use of the cinematic process of dollying, travelling the camera slowly forward and back. He refrains almost completely from narrative cuts, so that his protagonists appear inescapably caught in the absurd circle of their monotonous actions.