The darkness

When I was back up North last week I took the opportunity to make my now-customary visit to the Baltic. A bit of a disappointment on this occasion, it has to be said - mainly because three of the floors were closed while staff prepared for a couple of new exhibitions opening this Saturday.

On the ground floor was Eva Grubinger's 'Dark Matter', comprising primarily of a huge black headset which emits a weird high-pitched whistling sound constructed from human voices. In the smaller room adjacent were four smaller scale models of a block of flats, a cooling tower, a nuclear reactor and a airport control tower. All were the same dull black, except for the windows which were shiny and reflective. The underlying themes of the exhibition are paranoia, and the transmission or concealment of information. All fine and well, and it was worth a look, but this exemplified my reservations about conceptual art - the concepts can be worthy and fascinating in themselves, but when they overshadow the consequent works of art you begin to wonder whether the art doesn't become redundant, an afterthought. I like to be intrigued by what it IS, rather than just by what it says. (That probably sounds like a terribly antiquated view...).

Better was Jane and Louise Wilson's video installation, revolving around themes of space and place. On an array of different screens, most hanging from the ceiling at different angles but some flat on the ceiling itself, images were projected from several locations in the North-East - including an oil rig, an electronics factory and a 60s concrete pavilion in Peterlee. The wonderful cinematography made the ostensibly mundane subject matter quite beautiful, and the crystal-clear sound system augmented the experience no end - during the shots from the electronics plant, all the gentle whirring, whining and clicking made me feel like I was inside a Matmos record.