Angus Boulton: Restricted Area At the Wapping Project, London E1, until 2 July
Angus Boulton's three films at the former Wapping Hydraulic Power Station all feature Soviet military installations from the Cold War, which are now abandoned and semi-derelict.
With its worn walls and retained machinery, the old power station suits them well.
The films are more about atmosphere than architecture, as Boulton's camera prowls around these once-guarded precincts, almost lost in the forest, that still have an aura of clandestine activity as they moulder and disintegrate.
They lend themselves so readily to film that the person with the camera can hardly go wrong - perhaps the real challenge is to find the sites and negotiate access, which no doubt takes perseverance. But with a mixture of leisurely pans and pauses that explore these compounds in a careful, measured way, making details tell, Boulton's folms are really evocative. Their soundtracks contribute too, though the triumphalist Russian choir in one of them, its song swelling and fading in the empty rooms, is perhaps a little glib.
And Boulton's latest work, The Russian Palette, is very much about architecture after all. It presents a series of redundant gymnasiums, which Boulton describes as 'curious oases of vibrant colour among the routine grey and camouage of military sites.' Shot from a fixed viewpoint looking down the central axis of each space, they dissolve slowly into one another, with continual permutations of structure, light, colour and the traces of time - as if in a special supplement to Pevsner's A History of Building Types.