Desire in a Digital Age: How a digital artist (almost) put me off going to Turkiss

Collecting Art, take a look
by Leni Cadle, second year art history student
Part of our theme ‘video art’
Ed Atkins is a British artist and had his debut exhibition show at the Tate Modern earlier this year. His work explores a range of themes, although I’d like to focus a digital animation video from this show, Untitled 2018.
The piece, which is 16 minutes in total, is a reference to the mouthwatering visuals of fast food adverts, using the same style of high-definition videos and close ups of glistening surfaces of food.
Still from Untitled
The classic fillings of the sandwich elegantly flopping on top of each other, satisfyingly squishing and then opening up to float showing off their individual components. These 15 second videos of sandwiches are, however, interchanged with surreal versions. In another, businessmen are thrown into a sandwich and scattered with jeans and a British flag. It’s laughably disgusting.
Still from Untitled
In the close ups, shiny red tomato ketchup slowly oozes over the plump limbs of human bodies, crisp fresh lettuce is tossed on top, and held together in a golden, soft yet sturdy slice of bread. The textures and colours in Untitled are spookily reminiscent of those found in junk food adverts, a tactical choice by the artist to make us aware of the manipulative digital techniques. The close up shots, warm vibrant colours and glistening food styling are borrowed from fast food marketing. Our brains instinctively associate these visual cues with something delicious and rewarding, so it feels jarring when the brain realised that we’re being enticed by something horrific.
Still from Untitled
The choice of interchanging the surreal videos with normal videos of food is so cleverly manipulative of Atkins. He’s edging us, waving the desire and pleasure of a Big Mac in front of our noses, and then presenting us with glistening grotesque versions of the same forms, subverting our understanding of desire.
Untitled connects to wider themes of what we deem as delicious and disgusting, realistic and constructed. By putting a British flag, businessmen, pairs of jeans and wooden front doors into the context of a fast-food ad, Atkins draws our attention to the ideals that make our mouths water and we swallow without question. The fillings of the sandwiches invite us to think not just about advertising, but about capitalism and consumption.
Still from Untitled
I’m reminded of a clip from a Jamie Oliver documentary that’s become a bit of a viral internet meme. Jamie cooks chicken nuggets for some kids in an attempt to encourage them to stop eating fast food. He uses the most disgusting parts of chicken meat, explaining that this is what fast food restaurants do, which the kids giggle and recoil at in disgust. The clip then cuts to Jamie asking the kids if they’d eat it knowing where it’s come from: “yeah”, they answer. Jamie looks perplexed.
Unlike Jamie’s documentary, Akins isn’t trying to get us to stop eating fast food. He isn’t trying to scare into thinking that fast food is disgusting – if that’s what he wanted then he could’ve used real, gross fillings, like worms or mould. Akin’s simply offering the flip side to the world we live in, using digital technologies to reflect on our own senses of self and desire in a highly digital age.
Still from Untitled
A few weeks after viewing the exhibition, I stumbled upon an advert on the side of a kebab shop that is almost IDENTICAL to Untitled. I’d love to say that I was immediately put off, having been enlightened to the tricks of advertising. Untitled didn’t put me off fast food, but it’s made me reflect on my own desires and media culture. Strongbow adverts on buses, Nectar ads and get-ready-with-me videos feel a bit weird now.
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