What If Public Art Came to Life?
I don’t think I’ve ever been more awed—or creeped out—by public art as I was when I first passed through Monk metro, beneath the giant metal sculptures meant to represent the construction workers who built the metro. In the vast concrete belly of the station, there is something eerie, otherworldly and epic about them; their frozen state seems impermanent, as if they will resume their work as soon as I turn away.
That’s the idea behind Terminus, a short film posted earlier this week by Andrew Chau on urban-ism. Set in 1970s Montreal, and mostly in the metro, it follows a man’s descent into lunacy as he is followed by a large concrete sculpture, which stands over him incessantly, its gaze expectant. Soon, the man starts seeing public installations following other people. A woman walks down a metro corridor as one of Villa-Maria station’s round mural sculptures rolls behind her; a man is hounded by Beaudry’s moving sidewalk; a child is followed by Pierryves Anger’s Le Malheureux Magnifique.
The film also does great work in bringing out the creepiness inherent in so much 70s-era art, architecture and design in Montreal. It’ll be something to think about next time you’re descending into the concrete abyss of Lucien L’Allier or Place-Saint-Henri.
Crossposted from Spacing Montreal
Tags: Montreal, Public Art
