Many would say that a theatre’s magical atmosphere lies not in its structure, but within the relationship between its audience and actors. It is hard to forget, for example, the enchantment that arises from the dramatic dimming of lights, promptly followed by an anticipant silence that is sliced sharply by the power of an actor’s first line. Spanish photographer Raul Belinchon is similarly drawn to the theatre, yet believes the space is at its most powerful when completely empty.
In his latest project ‘Stalls’ Belinchon has photographed the immense deserted interiors of a number of infamous theatres, including Paris’s grand Bastille, St Petersburg’s eminent Marrinski and London’s lofty Royal Festival Hall. With camera equipment in hand he walks centre stage, positioning the former outward. As a result, one is faced with row after row of empty seats that return your gaze as they seem to morph into shapes of countless bodies.
Belinchon began studying photography in 1996 and seems to enjoy this play with perspective as he says ‘Theatres, without spectators, without actors or actresses, are stages within stages’. As I took time to closely study these photos, Belinchon’s description becomes very apparent for I felt immediately as if someone was hidden within the wings- watching me. My subsequent self-consciousness thus forced my eyes to search frantically over the photographs in an attempt to seek out this voyeur; of course to no avail.
Despite this haunting and slightly tense atmosphere Belinchon creates, one cannot ignore how graceful and elegant theatres are when uninhabited and free from distraction. The animating glow of the lighting and perfect linearity imbues them with an eerie anthropomorphic quality; they appear to have a life of their own. The architecture is vast, and always topped by the most striking ceilings, my particular favourite is the Apollo Victoria, whose blood red seats are enhanced by fluorescent purple lighting that crawls over the ceiling; mirroring the tentacles of some rare under water being.
Belinchon is not alone in his infatuation with the abandoned theatre space. Portuguese painter Gil Heitor Cortesao (exhibiting this summer at Carbon 12 Gallery in Dubai) has a similar objective. His painting ‘Remote Viewer 2’ 2008 also depicts the seats of an empty theatre, and once again we are placed centre stage with no apparent audience to watch us.
This work seems slightly less austere, perhaps due to the paints softness that helps to dumb down Belinchon’s uncanny realism, yet both artists share the ability to toy with the notion of the observer. Through a manipulation of perspective we are forced to question who the real act is, or more relevantly, what is the real art form: is it the observer, whom in the artist’s illusion appears to be the subject of performance, or is it the theatre itself, that too takes on human form? No matter what the conclusion is here, the crucial element in any successful work of art is that of mystery and both Belinchon and Cortesao’s ability to leave one wondering is exactly why their work is so resonant and compelling.
