What interests me is what runs underneath speeches and discourses, within images. I try to create the conditions in which, whether one faces a narrative or not, there is no conclusion, no certitude.

Belgian Artist David Claerbout’s current exhibition at Hauser and Wirth consists of a series of video installations that are a literal study of being, each with their own nondescript narrative and unique sense of past and present. The first of three installations created specifically for this show, Riverside(2009) is a dual projection that follows a man and a woman traveling along a remote stream in Belgium evoking a deep sense of memory, history and peril. The first thing to note about the piece is the incredible production values; the camera panning, focus and selection of shots are flawless. The characters themselves make up only a small part of each film serving as a reference point to reality and time as we the viewer see it, their narrative is disjointed and discomforting. The beginning of each projection sees a businesswoman driving out to the country and a mountain biker lying on the ground covered in cuts and bruises following a crash. The businesswoman loses her heels and cigarettes and the biker abandons his bike so that as we the viewer, and presumably they, make their way into the countryside they slowly lose all sense of their roles and of time. This juxtaposition of the beautiful natural scenes and these two figures that slowly lose their identity is the perfect expression of time corroding away the semi-permanence of human life. This is mirrored in the life cycle of the river drying-up and renewing itself. Questions pop up throughout; why is this woman here? What has happened to this man? Where are they going? Who are they? This is part of the charm of Claerbout’s work; there is no answer, there is no certainty and there is no reality. Whilst this set of films is both compelling and surreal, in my view it is the weakest of the three on show.

Upstairs The American Room (2009) is a completely different style of video, complex and moving. Time is completely suspended in this room full of people awaiting the start of a concert, although to look at the flags and security men in the room one could easily assume this was a political speech in motion. This freeze frame is taken moments before the singer is about to begin. The whole room (including those viewing the installation) is left in a perpetual state of potential energy; something is always about to happen, but nothing does. Despite the lack of action or narrative, this film is astoundingly descriptive. The steady camera movements circling the room and focusing on individual characters affords the viewer an insider’s perspective; we are in the room. This complex, stereoscopic experience of a single moment allows us to psychoanalyse each individual, assessing their mood, their opinions and even what their lives might entail. Coupled with piano music interpreting American classics such as Hero, A Whole New World, Star-Spangled Banner and, obscurely, I Believe I Can Fly, the film has an overwhelmingly emotive undertone. The close ups force the viewer to look at each individual as a fascinating, intricate and integral part of something much larger, perhaps the concept of America itself with emphasis on the multicultural and multiethnic population. Young and old, wealthy and poor, pragmatists and dreamers all amass in this grand room (filmed in the upper gallery at Hauser and Wirth) to listen to a young, seemingly proud, woman sing. In addition to Claerbout’s technical prowess, his ability to conjure a narrative from nowhere whilst all along undermining the need for, and importance of, a story is one of the strongest elements of his work. This is made continuingly apparent in his third video installation.

Sunrise (2009) is the third and final piece of work on show. I have listed the pieces in this order because, having viewed the exhibition on multiple occasions, I think the installations have the greatest impact when seen in this way. Winding down the spiral staircase into darkness, the viewer is led by torch into a small room in the basement. Damp and dawn-lit by the serene video, it is a task to find a place to sit. This being said, from the first bleep at the beginning of the roll, Sunrise is a masterpiece of timing, camera-work, lighting and sheer artistic ingenuity and grace. The film follows a maid about her morning tasks in a modernist villa. A sleeping monument, homage to a lost architectural era, the house is the image of perfection, crisp white and timeless, mirrored by its inhabitant’s meticulous nature. When seen in its entirety, Claerbout’s film effectively balances the tedious chores of its focal character with uplifting music and the approaching dawn. The intensely emotive quality of this installation is achieved in a number of ways. Claerbout has pulled time into question by focusing on a character whose life takes place in the blue dawn of the Belgian countryside while all around her sleep. The darkness of the room, the visuals and the virtual silence as the maid creeps around the villa, create a peaceful and nurturing environment placing the viewer into a vulnerable state of mind whilst also giving us the power of voyeurism. It is this vulnerability which is taken advantage of when we catch a glimpse of the maid on her bicycle as she rides up a hill. The sun peeks out as classical music begins to pump through the speakers, creating a romantic and touching connection with the woman on her bike. In its final minutes this film transforms itself from a quiet, unassuming view of perfection into an assault of emotion.

Claerbout has achieved a rare triumph with this show, rare in that so few exhibitions or pieces of work achieve what they set out to. With a lack of certainty, a series of questions and a prolonged assault on the senses, his videos combine a deep understanding of context with the integrity of an independent film maker offering us a view of time that transcends our everyday understanding of it into something metaphysical, both inspirational and thought provoking.

David Claerbout at Hauser and Wirth runs until August 1st (196A Piccadilly, London, W1J 9DY, UK).