Of Jeff Wall’s contribution to contemporary photography, including everything from his ‘micro-gestures’ to his ‘accidents of reading’, nothing strikes me more than the exquisite production that demonstrates his mastery of the field. Wall has an inspiring theoretical and technical foundation at every level from pre- to post-production. This form of expertise, this technical virtuosity, is something to which I aspire.

I felt most drawn to only a few of the socially charged contemporary western investigations such as Milk and a few more of the inventive imaginations typical of The Flooded Grave, both of which illustrate well Wall’s mimesis of cinema and painting, something I definitely appreciate.
The exhibition pamphlet explains that he “creates images of a richness and complexity that cannot be reduced to a simple moral message.”

Unfortunately, I have difficulty finding any moral message. Wall’s work seems unbelievably to be non-biased documentation despite the heavy production and set-up. And in the end, I don’t feel particularly uplifted after the show: Dead Troops, a grotesque fiction with so-called black humour seems pointless. I noted that having attended the show with someone not directly affiliated with the patience that the visual arts requires, I did not spend adequate time in front of each work.

Tags: gallery, London