Phil Collins: "This Unfortunate Thing Between Us" at Chapter (invigilation)

I really enjoyed this bizarre, immersive video installation. Previously I shunned video as an enjoyable form of visual art; I've never felt at ease standing in front of a screen in a gallery space with a pair of headphones on. This work, however, is shown in two caravans parked out the front of Chapter, with a cosy atmosphere inside that welcomes the viewer and supplants their curiosity with a feeling of bemusing nostalgia.

The piece is part of Collins' participation in Artes Mundi 5, alongside other work showing in the main exhibition at the National Museum Wales, in Cardiff.

Admittedly, most visitors were inclined to stop only for a few minutes, or even just poke their head, whimsically, around the door; maybe the subtitled German makes it a little unapproachable to the passive viewer, or perhaps an hour is too long to dedicate to a (relatively) little-known artist. Perhaps I would do the same had I not been voluntarily invigilating for the evening. However, after a brief read of the piece's description and a first watch of the entire piece, I was fascinated by its concept and production.

In the context of the caravan installation at Chapter, we are shown a recording of the original live screening of 'TUTBU TV' in Germany last year. The piece parodies the genre of the teleshopping channel, as we are confronted by the salesperson-presenters, live callers and displays of the 'products' on sale. Also provided is a Muzak-style soundtrack by Gruff Rhys and his band Y Niwl.

The premise of the TV station is to sell 'life experiences' at the knock down price of 9.99€ (discount available for students and the unemployed, of course), turning memorable moments into commodities for the couch-surfing consumer. On offer is the chance to tell your friends and family how much you hate them while on your deathbed, a live Stazi-style interrogation and - most sensationally - the chance to star in your own Period-drama graphic sex scene.

It's all highly comedic; there is a live studio audience and the actors, their scripts and even their costumes exude a sense of self-deprecation that is hard not to enjoy. We might see it as modern-day, mass-market escapism but, as the press release goes, perhaps it's actually "a glimpse of what may well prove to be the future of consumerism".