Laurel Nakadate's "Only the Lonely" exhibition at MOMA PS1, New York (January 23 - August 15, 2011), really isn't one to bypass. A bold and striking collection of work that explores the relationship between voyeurism and loneliness. The exhibition takes title after Roy Orbison's 1960 song that Nakadate describes as "totally heartbreaking. It really sums up the last ten years of my work about loneliness and isolation".
Her last photographic series, "365 Days: A Catalogue of Tears" (2011) showed self portraits of Nakadate everyday for a year, crying, in different locations. An extraordinary visual diary she wanted to "deliberately take part in sadness each day", archiving one's private life for the purpose of public exposure.
Nakadate pokes a sharp stick at the male gaze. Rather than deciding to brush off the attention of unknown men, Nakadate would embrace it - engaging with some of the least appealing specimens: balding, overweight, badly dressed and in their 40s, 50s and 60s. In reply to their advances she would agree to go home with them, only if they would collaborate with her in making an art video.
The short video's she made in "Only the Lonely'" raise an array of questions and emotions. The men she uses appear harmless and a little lost. If anything, she appears to be exploiting these men, teasing them and ridiculing them. But then, we don't know what happens after the video's have ended. Is she in fact putting herself in danger?
Watching the video's you begin to become slightly tranced by them. Or maybe Nakadate is trancing the men. She has an uncanny ability to intimately connect with them and gets them to do what she wants. You can't help but feel uncomfortable, but the more videos you watch the more you understand instead of the strange men gaining power over her, Nakadate is the one in control.
There is an odd atmosphere of tenderness to the scenes. The men seem to enjoy taking part; she seems to like them. If anything, I can only imagine the men finish feeling more lonely than ever and herself slightly smug.
"Trouble Ahead, Trouble Behind", another photographic series by Nakadate in the exhibit features shots of her underwear in the wind just before she releases them out of a speeding train. You begin to wonder what the innocent person who stumbles upon these garments might imagine - whether or not these images would be different in a man's head than in a woman's.
The collection will leave you feeling seduced, exhausted and ultimately connected with your own feelings of isolation - yet maybe upon leaving you won't feel quite so alone. An exhibit that you attend with an open mind and one that stays with you for weeks after.