Daisuke Ohba’s paintings are scary in a pure thrill ride kind of way that resonates an unmistakable Hollywood panache. Layered in thin films of white paint the images are stenciled onto pastel backgrounds of pinks, greens and blues and while slick and seductive also maintain a distinct sense of humor. Even a lone landscape recalls not a real forest but one plucked from a film like perhaps Friday the 13th’s Crystal Lake.
Stripping these images from film and then remaking them on beautified pastel backdrops seems at first to lessen the horror in a sickeningly sweet pop-candy sort of way. As though Ohba was describing horror as my mother might, removed and attempting to gloss over darker elements. But the more we looked into the works the more menacing they became. The familiar darkness is gone, but there is still a suggestion of lingering melancholy and fantastic apprehension.
Just what Ohba is pursuing in his paintings remains somewhat ambiguous. It is clear that Ohba doesn’t just borrow, but controls and remixes the images in a manner that adds new life. Despite being separated from their narrative it is obvious that they are cinematic references and Ohba intensifies their horror film vernacular -the dark forest or the blank-eyed girl and doll- until it forms delicate objects that walk a line between the alluring and discomforting.
No less interesting is a sculpture/ video installation in the back of the space. The sculpture is similar to two presented in large-scale prints in the first room, and my first impulse was to try and name the objects. A trophy, a chandelier, a candlestick? Nothing came to me, as its oozy black surface that looked like polished magma was difficult to identify. Various bits and pieces, glass beads and incongruent forms offered few details except to say that the piece was both familiar and perplexing.
The sculpture itself became the character winding through a projected labyrinth – like from the Doom video games. As the camera continually moved us through repeating hallways of the grey brick structure a smaller monitor on the side of the wall featured a rotating digital map that tracked the progress.
The general uncertainty that hung around the installation made it all the more compelling. There was a slight video game nostalgia to the piece, but the sculpture seemed too weak, frail and beautiful for the world of electronic entertainment. So the more we tried deciphering the works various components the more intriguing our confusion made it.
Fitting for an exhibition entitled Labyrinth.