Man on Wire

I was moved by what Philippe Petit says about the moment he stepped on the wire between the Twin Towers: while he was aware of the extreme danger, it was impossible not to take the step. The statement says much about the spirit of his endeavour: there is hubris, perhaps, but also a sense of humility; a knowledge of his own vulnerability and a willingness to put it on the line to create a moment of size, of poetry. It is the smallness of his figure against the skyscrapers that makes the event so remarkable.

9/11, though never explicitly mentioned, has an underpinning presence in this film: we see the Twin Towers in the process of construction, the great structural ribs - later so painfully exposed - erected with such optimism. I was reminded of the images of the 9/11 'jumpers'. Philippe Petit, of course, succeeds. I found this a strangely healing film.

There is a scene in the documentary where Petit carries his then girlfriend, Annie Allix, piggy-back across the practice wire. I was reminded of the day when a young funambule student called Jade did the same for me and thereby cured me of my fear of height. I was studying corde lisse, vertical rope, at the French national circus school, a place that took Circus more seriously than anywhere else I had been to. The heights at which I had to work were, accordingly, 'proper', but to me, mind-boggling. I developed crippling vertigo; the fear itself became fearful, for an aspiring aerialist like me it was akin to sickness.

One day Jade volunteered to carry me across his high-wire. I trusted his undeniable skill and confidence, and some of it must have rubbed off on me. That night I dreamt that I was piloting a small plane into an azure sky; the day after, I was able to put aside my fear. Incidentally, Jade himself was an obsessive admirer of Philippe Petit.

Joseph Kittinger

In 1960 the pilot Joseph Kittinger carried out what must surely be the ultimate fall. He travelled in a balloon to 102,800 feet (31,330 m) - the outer edge of the earth's atmosphpere - and then threw himself out into space. Eventually, at 18,000 feet (5,500 m) he opened a parachute, but most of the journey he spent in free fall.

It is said that, as he jumped, he was sure he would die; and that for him the most testing part was not the thought of death, or the physical pain, but the extreme loneliness at what is really the edge of the world. Even if I didn't know about the background to this image, I would guess that it portrays someone who is risking his life - survival does look unlikely.

In my opinion, the most stunning part is that he came down largely unscathed, took part in a number of similar adventures and is apparently still alive to date. Sometimes life really does tell the best stories - Münchhausen, eat your heart out.

Sam Taylor - Wood

Just like Paddy Jolley's mattress photograph, this image offers a lot more questions than answers. How was this photograph made? Is it a real-time shot or was it staged, Jackie-Chan - like, with wires? On another level, why did the woman stand on the chair? Will she break a leg? On yet another level, what and who does she stand for? Immortality?

Of course the answers are well-known, but I find it so much more pleasurable to pretend ignorance and to speculate.

Denis Darzacq

Denis Darzacq's series La Chute (The Fall) depicts young people falling in urban environments. He persuaded street dancers to pose, asking them to look expressionless. Apart from being a series of stunning, stirring, poetic images, it is a political comment about a generation in freefall.

His comment is: 'I like the fact that you can read into these photos whatever you want. Will we let them hit the ground? Will anyone rush out to scoop them up?'

Catherine Yass/ The Human Cannon Ball

Catherine Yass's photographs taken out of a lift are well known. The blurred buildings, zooming past the camera, are also an image of falling - our falling.

This still from Yass's film 'High Wire' depicts a funambulist, a high wire walker. High wire walking is the last circus discipline left where performers still risk life and limb with no safety net, so we don't have to. The funambulist here is Didier Pasquette, one of the very few left in the world. During filming, he had to turn back after a few steps. Apparently it was too windy, but no explanation is given in the film or notes. Strangely, way this work encompasses failure as much as audacity.

I saw the human cannon ball perform his act at the Cornwall Show last year. Four counties clubbed together to bring him over from the States. I was very touched by his act. There is something strangely life-affirming about someone who will get himself shot 80 feet up, until he becomes literally a dot in the air - a truly pointless and heroic act.

I like the multi-exposure element of the photograph - it reminds me of Muybridge's horse shots - but it doesn't sufficiently convey the outrageousness and loneliness of the endeavour. Yass's image shows that element much better.

Pascual Sisto

Pascual Sisto's Video works are hilarious. 'No strings attached' features a miraculously animated, kicked-around plastic chair that hardly touches the ground, '28 Years in the Implicate Order' an unsettling car-park video quote. Viewing his work, even in small streaming size, has an strangely physical effect. There is a lot of slapstick.

I was unable to embed video pieces here, but they can be viewed at www.pascualsisto.com.

Bas Jan Ader 2

Bas Jan Ader let himself fall out of trees, off roofs, and into this canal. He also made himself cry in front of the camera. In his films the discomfort is very apparent. I like the tragic, melodramatic element in his deliberately hurting himself and not enjoying it, and somehow managing to make it look like an accident. He reminds me of a sad clown or a fallen aerialist. He eventually perished in a small boat on the ocean - only the boat was found - the final and ultimate misadventure.


A re-enactment of Bas Jan Ader's canal piece. It's a shame that the Serpentine is not as deep as the Amsterdam canals, but in a way this makes it almost funnier.

Paddy Jolley

This image really intrigues me. Who dropped the mattress, and from what height? The ceiling can't be that high so where is the person or machine that suspended the object before the fall? I like the irony too - we would normally expect something else to fall onto a mattress or mat.

Bas Jan Ader 1

Tears and snot are falling. They remind me of Ian Davenport's paintings. Or should that be vice versa?