Emma Burrett

A rainy afternoon means a movie to me and I was lucky to have an entire gallery to myself earlier this week with not even an intimidating 'gallerina' at the door, which only exaggerated the intensity and impact of Frances Young's series of video projections.

Black Hills sequencer/Bridge 1/Wyoming, Always' inspired by an all girl American road trip effectively negates all clichés and contrivances that one immediately thinks of - no motels, swinging saloon doors or sultry coyotes. Instead Young has effectively extracted the finer elements from darker, more ominous scenes - think more Blair Witch - oncoming headlights, looming telegraph poles, black silhouettes of tree branches. The narrative is dissected though by shots of the medium itself so flickers of grain sludge serve to quash our desire to sit back and relax. Instead the jumping screen and changing landscape add to our own sense of physical movement - as though we are travelling with her right there and then peering through window frames attempting to gauge a sense of our own whereabouts.

Aware of my utterly unfounded cynicism for 'abstract audio works' I made a concentrated effort to let go of my own conscious thought and allow the sounds and moving composition of Oscillate 01 to wash over me or rather jolt into me. I really was struck by Young's technical ability - to be able to correlate different coloured and sized 'slats' of movement with beats at ever changing tempos requires a deep understanding of the merits and sensory impact of fusing audio/video means.

Young's Song of farewell which traces a swarm of flying starlings to and from their rollercoaster of a roost, is the strongest, most original work in which her subtle train of thought, sensitive imagination and contemplative, understated approach come together to eerie but stunning effect. The rhythmic slow pace, the choice of black starlings, the deserted setting and foreboding light have all been cleverly considered and acutely cohered.  The relationship between sound and sight though is critical once more. The crash of waves on the shore, the marching of foot soldiers, the flapping of bird wings - so suggestive is the whirring of the vinyl loop that it boosts the work into another multi - sensory realm in which one's own ideas, imaginations and narratives can be tacked onto.

Sites of Transition showcases Young's ability to fuse audio/video, sever automatic readings and upset one's own sense of whereabouts whilst encouraging you to imagine another alternative. As long as she retains her sophisticated visual vocabulary her ability to tap into you more ways than one will remain.