Marina Abramovic: The Artist is Present, 2012, is perhaps the most exasperating documentary about an artist I have watched. 

That exasperation is two-fold. First, I have difficulty wrapping my mind around performance art. It’s not theatre, because what the artists do is real. I was impressed by many of Marina’s performances of the past, mainly because she has embodied art’s desire to shock through her work. She certainly did that in many cases, even putting her own life in danger in some of her performances, including sitting by passively while audience members were allowed to use objects beside her on stage to do whatever they wanted. Those objects included knives and a gun and a bullet. Performance art is provocative through actions like these and many others that include self-mutilation, real or implied violence as well as ample nudity (at least in Marina’s case). It comes as no surprise that several artists have died in the course of their performances. If the core of performance art is to shock, she certainly has succeeded to do so, grabbing our attention and becoming the recognized leader of this type of art. The second exasperation of this move is when Marina speaks about her art, she becomes very hard to follow. I have heard her in this movie and other occasions, and I always feel frustrated that I have not understood her point. This is not entirely uncommon for visual artists of any type, but it does contrast with the times she tells the story of her life. Those episodes are are touching, forthcoming and completely engaging.

Back to the documentary, the strongest insight came in the summary by the curator of her retrospective at MoMA who said that her initial work was about working by herself, the next stage was working with her life and art partner Ulay and the third period is about working with and engaging her audience. That becomes clear when seeing the enormous crowds of people who lined up for days to be able to sit in silence in front of her as part of The Artist is Present show. That’s all is was, just come, sit in silence and look into her eyes. At least some viewers broke into tears and apparently one person stayed for three hours. MoMA broke its attendance record with this show. In the lead up, she said that she did not know if this concept would work, perhaps she would go hours without anyone venturing to sit with her. Obviously, the performance tapped into something that resonated deeply with the public. Her 40+ years of art making leading up to the show was distilled into this performance. My sense is that most performance art remains simply something of interest for a small group of insiders, but as its leading proponent, she has achieved a success that no other has achieved to date.


The movie follows the preparation of the two elements of the show - the live performance as well as the retrospective that accompanied it. The enigma of performance art still remains for me, but I have a greater appreciation of its potential power. And while I still would like Marina to explain her art in a way I can understand better, The Artist is Present show has spoken louder than any words and I hope future shows will continue her success.

Gerhard Richter Painting, 2011, delivers what the title promises - a modern master at work - which is both the beauty and limitation of the film.

Richter is the world’s foremost living artist and the documentary shows him, mainly in his studio, in 2009. Breaks occur to cover his exhibitions at leading galleries on both sides of the Atlantic that were either in preparation or occurring at that time. These shows, mostly retrospectives, illustrate his immense range for both realistic and abstract painting as well as his creative handling of subject and materials. They expand the perspective of the studio scenes, which show him working on a large-scale abstract series.

The painting scenes track him from underpainting and then to either large or very large squeegees to move paint around the canvases - either layering on or removing paint. Long periods of silence show him going through these back and forth stages - including frequent angst and dissatisfaction. In terms of watching an artist at work, this is the best documentary I have seen. It illustrates his process from beginning to end - at least in a few cases. Apparently, even when he decides a painting is done, he frequently pulls it back and continues to work on it some more.

The movie’s drawback is Richter himself as he is shy and frequently inarticulate. He accepts the fact that he must be out in public and seems to do it graciously if uncomfortably when necessary. As he comments at one point, he cannot paint when being followed by a camera. Further, his explanations of his work are often challenging and filled with painful silences. It is hard to follow the logic of what he wants to say. He was a tough subject for the filmmaker who did her best to draw him out but he clearly prefers to show his final products and not have to talk about how he work or his process. Certainly, he is a thoughtful person and has had a life full of challenges - born in Nazi Germany, growing up in East Germany, defecting to West Germany in the 1960s and never being able to see his parents again. He has internalized all these things, but finds it difficult to speak meaningfully about them.

Gerhard Richter Painting opens a window onto a modern painting giant, offering at least some insights into his process, techniques and struggles. Much lesser artists can draw comfort from seeing the challenges he also faces after more than 50 years as a painter.

Manufactured Landscapes is the 2006 documentary that follows Canadian photographer Edward Burtynsky as he travels around the world to create his disconcerting landscape photos showing humanity's impact on the environment in specific locations on a scale that is usually hard to fully comprehend. His photos drive home the environmental message with which we have been bombarded, but in a way that is arresting. Once you look, you are drawn in. The ambiguity results from the interplay of the stunning beauty of his photos while also being disconcerting - in good conscience we should not see beauty in such destruction. As he says, we prefer to push these places out of our consciousness, but that does not make them any less real and in many cases, exploitative of the people who work there, notably the Bangladesh ship breaking yards where old ships go to die. 

The bulk of the documentary is set in China where he documents the industrial expansion of that country and its effects, largely on the landscape and by extension on the country's people. The film's unforgettable opening is a five minute, unrelenting shot through unending benches for workers in a Chinese factory. It immediately drives home the sense of scale that he documents and only ends with the photos he took at the location as well as interviews with workers and others to explain the factory's organization and the way of life of those who work there.

Burtynsky explains his series in a TED Talk from 2005 where his thoughtfulness shines. My only disappointment is his dancing around whether he is an environmentalist. As an artist, I know he wants to ask questions rather than adopt a specific viewpoint or preferred solution. That is the usual role of artists but the reality of his photos underlines the environmentalist viewpoint, even if most of us are quite happy to reap the benefits of environmental degradation through a prosperous lifestyle, a position he also acknowledges is his own.

Over the years, I have been to a number of Burtynsky's exhibits at various museums and galleries, most recently his Watermark series that is also accompanied by a documentary. The photos are always large and carefully considered from the starting point of seeking out an image to final production. Spontaneity is not the point of his work. For me, the most telling point of his process goes back to the description of his turning point as a landscape photographer when he got lost driving in the United States and happened to find a quarry at hand. Seeing its ugly beauty, he knew that he had to explore that line of imagery or become a calendar landscape photographer. 

He continues developing that initial insight and sharing his powerful vision of a world wounded by our activity that he renders beautiful, while also disturbing for what it shows us about what we would prefer not to see about ourselves.

If you only want to understand the power of modern art, watch Waste Land, the 2010 documentary about Brazilian born artist Vik Muniz. 

Muniz's practice is based on drawing with the most unexpected of all materials - sugar, back hoes, spaghetti. This documentary follows him on a project in Jardim Gramacho, at the time the world's largest garbage landfill in Rio de Janeiro. He enlists the recyclers who live nearby and work in the landfill to help him sift through material and pose for photographs that he will draw with garbage.

For me, the most telling moment was when the finished products of his work - a photo series - went on sale at a big London auction. All the other work at the show seemed ironic and detached. It felt like the artists were laughing at us if we were not in on the joke. Muniz was there with some of the those who worked with him and lived in Jardim Gramacho. It was a moment of exquisite humanity but seemingly characteristic of Muniz for whom fame and celebrity have not made him lose his connection to people.

Unlike most other movies about artists that always include side interviews with their assistants, for this project his assistants are people who live just above the poverty line and take pride in their work even if it is easy to find it repulsive. In other documentaries, the assistants are all artists as well, seeking to learn from a master but fully immersed in the world of art. That telling difference with other documentaries shows how Muniz has maintained a connection with people despite being one of the world's leading artists. 

Along with the refreshing humanity that he brings to his work, Muniz is also an imaginative innovator, finding new and different ways to draw with the most unexpected materials that carry their own story and meaning to his art. I often hear people comment that today's art will not stack up against the art of past centuries. I believe Muniz's art will stand the test of time because of his artistic talent but also because of the humanity he expresses in his art.

Thanks for reading!