If there is an visual art equivalent to the contemporary notion of the 'Slow' (in movies and music, for example), then Zarina Bhimji's exhibition currently on show at Whitechapel Gallery should be the modern parameter. In this beautifully sculpted landscape that meanders through four galleries, including custom-built auditoria for a series of Bhimji's films, this exhibition of photography, video and object is an effusively effective mediated meditation on politics and representation.
On display here is the artist's latest film, Yellow Patch. A haunting soundtrack pervades through classically-staged shots of the decline of the former British Empire in India. The destitute finery stretches from the India of Bhimji's parents to her native Uganda, also formerly under the Queen's commonwealth, and also having been stealthily removed since. Idi Amin's dictatorship meant that Bhimji's family could no longer settle in the country and in the decay that his rule managed, Bhimji records times was, times passed and what does not remain.
But these are all inferred. Bhimji's skill is to not make politics overtly-politicised. What we have are the remains of a personal - and national - cultural history gone to wrack and ruin. What Bhimji gives us is not her opinion, it's evidence of experience. It's a tender ghost, and it's heartbreakingly beautiful.
Zarina Bhimji is at Whitechapel Gallery until 09 March.
