The Art of Darkness: On Steve McQueen

Abstract

Steve McQueen's Western Deep (2002) is striking for what it does not show. Documenting the labor conditions of miners in the Tautona mine near Johannesburg, the deepest gold mine in the world, the film begins with a long sequence of utter darkness. At first, the shocking soundtrack dominates: piercing mechanical screeches and metallic low-pitch knockings vibrate the exhibition space. These sounds immediately reverberate throughout the visitor's body, hitting it with unseen force. It's as if we have suddenly found ourselves blind within the grinding internal organs of some industrial machinery. This clamor lasts for several minutes, accompanied only by flashes of light here and there, which remain ambiguous and disorienting. These images are as estranging as the soundtrack: patches of color, fugitive sensations emerge at a low threshold of visibility. Reddish blurs flash on the screen in a field of pitch black. Soft, dim points of light flicker momentarily and then vanish into an abyss. The crushing mechanical noise contradicts the soft tones and mute chromatic infusions that subtly play on the surface of the screen. After several minutes, the film eventually brightens to a fluorescent violet cast by a strong artificial light, shining through what appear to be human figures in front of a large metal grill. By the time we realize that the camera has been positioned in an elevator loaded with a group of miners descending to an infernal depth, its metal grate thrown open, the sound has suddenly stopped, and we have been plunged into an environment that is as extraordinary for its silence as for its bizarre illumination.