Light Matter Film Festival 2024

<p>The intrusion in the physical and material body, articulated around three instructions. It represents a progression in the search within, driven by the need to pierce through the flesh and opacity of the body to uncover what resides inside, whether out of morbid curiosity or as a form of love. One can only love what one knows. Discovering that interior &mdash; bloody, organic, dark, and secret &mdash; lays the foundations of self‑love.</p>

<p>A film about the female gaze and self-acceptance. In spring 2023, a physical illness forced me to re-examine my relationship with my body. Scars, spots, skin, hair, and my unflattering voice, everything belongs to my body.</p>

<p>Tan/Vatan -Body/Homeland- is a collaborative experimental film. It is a conversation between two women and their intimate experiences of love and life. The film embodies a symbolic form borrowed from the origin cultures of the artists, in India and Iran. Tan and Vatan are mutual words in Hindi and Persian, sharing the same meaning and pronunciation. Artists utilize the language, the medium, and their bodies to connect and visualize their experiences while engaging with the mechanical and physical experience of 16mm and handmade film</p>

<p>A rainy morning in Rio de Janeiro; film as a membrane, a memory veil, imprinted by the body and the environment. The title is a reference to the performative cloaks/capes of the late Brazilian artist H&eacute;lio Oiticica, made of various materials including fabric, paper, and plastic. This handmade film is made with reclaimed pigments and physical processes including contact printing, scratching, peeling, spraying, and staining.</p>

<p>The home destabilised by outside forces of capital is accompanied by a relentless percussive rhythm.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Arder en deseo&rdquo; is the result of a Super8 cartridge shot in April 2023 in Santiago de Chile, materializing three different desires for three different images: the first scene depicts &ldquo;Plaza Dignidad&rdquo; from various angles (the starting point of the Estallido social of October 18th 2019); the second is a quote of Hippolyte Bayard&rsquo;s photographic self‑portrait posing as a drowned man from October 18th 1840; and the third shows two empty chairs in connection with the first scene of the empty monument. Using the &ldquo;obsolete&rdquo; medium of analog film, the work creates a temporal anachronism, a technological ellipsis, in which memory, oblivion and disappearance enter into poetic dialogue fifty years after the Chilean coup d&rsquo;&eacute;tat.</p>

<p>The Deers suggests an image of a gender-polarized society unevenly marked by history. Archival footage of ceremonies from the era of the Uruguayan dictatorship and harsh military exercises clash with intimate images of sleeping girls with intertwined hair, linguistic exploration of fragile bodies, and still-lifes of set tables frozen in time. The film oscillates between the collective memory of dictatorship and everyday intimacy, between power and vulnerability.</p>

<p>The found fragments of exile bring life to an unfinished film started by a Brazilian artist who lived in Los Angeles. Working under a pseudonym, the unknown filmmaker lingers on absences, empty landscapes and disembodied voices. These visual vacancies act as apparitions of a distant Brazil wrought by US Imperialism and military dictatorship. An unfinished piece, the film portrays the lingering fragments of work as dispersed as the diasporic maker.</p>

<p>Across the first minute of Isaac Sherman&rsquo;s A Shifting Pattern, brief filmic phrases&mdash;close views of flowers and buds, each between 1 and 5 frames&mdash;appear at irregular intervals, generally in the range of every two seconds, as the soundtrack hums with outdoor ambience. A single, quick synth tone signals a turn: the montage accelerates, drawing the Markopoulos-style opening into outright flicker (Sherman continues to make precise use of black frames, creating a dense composition of afterimages, layered and fugal), as saxophone and flute join the synthesizer and field recordings in a similarly accumulative arc that moves from sparse 3-note phrases into a full arrangement which sounds like the record Laurie Spiegel never released on Mego. The botanical world is among the more common subjects for the flicker film, but when matched with the witty sense of fleeting pleasure imbued by the soundtrack, Sherman&rsquo;s sumptuous and extravagant floral still lives&mdash;with their deft handling of light and shadow, of contrasts in color and scale&mdash;feel appropriately fresh. &mdash;Phil Coldiron</p>

<p>Migrating from the Amazon basin across northern Illinois, a flock of chimney swifts flutter without perching, using a natural form of radar to navigate. The pulse of infrasound from deep ocean waves vibrates the ground and emanates up, guiding the birds amid disrupted air.</p> <p>Open space heard becomes turbulent, resonant space. Various forms of tuning elicit a strained acoustic ecology between altitudes.</p>

<p>In 2000, the International Union for Conservation of Nature officially declared the Kauai Oʻō extinct. All that remains of this endemic bird of the Hawaiian island of the same name is the recording of its singing by ornithologist David Boynton. Between territories and treetops, I&#39;m still looking for a trace of the vanished birds.</p>

<p>The plants and TV screens in Nam June Paik&rsquo;s TV Garden (1974) maintain their current images without dying, rotting or breaking down through behind-the-scene maintenance and technological replacement. The chickens, virtually released in TV Garden by the artist, are also isolated from other living species or external changes, and live forever free from evolution, reproduction, creation or decomposition. This all seems to symbolize a future utopia in which the ecosystem is won over and maintained by technology. By borrowing the voice of artificial intelligence the Moojin Brothers ask humans who blindly accept technology without resistance if such an immortal life is what they really want to manifest.</p>

<p>Humanity approaches in an ineluctable wave of uncertainty, hope and inevitability. A ferry crossing in Mumbai stands here for all such places and times of human expansion and human vulnerability.</p>

<p>A silent city symphony, projected from gorgeous black and white 16mm film.&nbsp;<strong>Materia vibrante</strong>&nbsp;lets the resonating frequencies of the urban environment create the inaudible hum that keeps the engines of society running, absent of the inhabitants running around like little ants toiling away.</p>

<p>In Bolivia&rsquo;s rural desert, where the most important present is that of the wind moving among potato flowers and animals, the people who work the land, those who built ancient artifacts and sacred objects and the musicians who play monse&ntilde;ada, in the city streets have one thing in common&mdash;manual labor.</p>

<p>A video translation of one of my action art scores for trans* becoming. The text featured in this animation is the text of the score and it is drawn over cytoscopic footage of my urethra and bladder. This video was originally produced to be shared as part of artist Chelsea Thompto&#39;s experimental AR project &quot;Transcode Gallery.&quot; This version has not been screened publicly and features a new audio score. The score is part of my artist book, &quot;Nightmares and Dreams on Progesterone: Action Art Scores for Trans Becoming,&quot; set to be published by Late Night Copies in 2024.</p>

<p>Reversed infrared footage of a thermal body print on a hardwood floor. Bodies and Heat. Color and Light. It&#39;s toasty.</p>

<p>MOON MOTH BED is a surreal, symbolic, and experimental short film about destruction, rebirth, and collective consciousness. Inspired by Donna Haraway&rsquo;s ecofeminist writings and panpsychic philosophy, this live‑action film collages imagery of real luna moths hatching from their cocoons amidst an ethereal video dream‑world. The film is cocooned within an atmospheric soundscape of rumbling thunderstorms, textured sounds, and twinkling temple bells. In the film&rsquo;s culminating visual sequence, a deus‑ex‑machina device enters to conjure chaos; in response the video dream‑world comes alive with sensual flows of honey to restore peace. The video concludes with circle‑shaped imagery to symbolize rebirth and conjure hope.</p>

<p>Fragmented Signals 22 explores the errors that occur during digital playback. The video captures digital corruption on a video wall.</p>

<p>Cloud Film meditates on the calming effects of watching clouds, while also demanding action to combat our impact on the environment. It calls attention to a loss of control as the clouds turn into a storm, reflecting the momentum of climate change. As clouds float on screen, fluctuating between different frame rates, this film calls attention to its handmade form through the use of cameraless techniques such as ray-o-gramming, optical printing and hand processing.</p>

<p>Consider is an analog, imageless film that critiques the distorted portrayal of war in television media, focusing on the contrast between the harsh reality of the Gaza genocide and its televised representation, as observed from afar by the artist in Brazil. Through a series of physical perforations in the film, each puncture allows light to pass through, symbolizing the martyred civilians of Gaza. These points of light resemble distant stars&mdash;numerous, yet beyond full human comprehension&mdash; conveying both the vastness of the loss and the inadequacy of televised images to capture its true scale. The film challenges the reduction of these lives to mere statistics, urging the viewer to engage with the martyrs as luminous presences, while recognizing that the full reality of this ongoing genocide remains beyond the capacity of visual representation.</p>

<p>The film weaves &ldquo;Poem for Three Voices&rdquo; by Bhanu Kapil and dropped frames of a VHS tape of &ldquo;New York: A Documentary Film&rdquo; by Ric Burns to comment on the tape&rsquo;s decaying state and somatic experience of living in New York.</p>

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<p>Silence IV (Լռության կաթիլային) is an introspective audiovisual work created during the nine-month blockade of Artsakh (Nagorno-Karabakh) in 2023. Caught between the tension of alarming news from home and the calm of everyday life abroad, Anna Grigorian turns to art to process the split between two realities&mdash;war and exile. Using only a cellphone camera and flashlight, she transforms familiar interior surfaces into shifting landscapes of light and shadow. The film serves as both meditation and self-portrait, exploring identity, displacement, and the inner dialogues of diaspora life.</p>

<p>A film motivated by nothing (but daily life and (my) vision). It represents nothing, it signifies nothing. There&rsquo;s no hidden meaning, no defined subject, no predetermined objective. Inside and outside. Just angles, textures and flashes of color. A whole different empire of vision, impossible to be put into words. &ldquo;Nothing&rdquo; as anything outside common visual knowledge, anything that defies the logic of naming the world; a possibility for a new way of thinking; of dealing with our visual world.</p>

<p>An Islands&#39; diary, told through the sombre but loving portrait of its oldest inhabitants. The Galapagos Islands and their majestic tortoises suffer the same fate of exploitation and disfigurement as the influence of humans on this once pristine and untouched corner of the world develops and devours. This film is the first &#39;chapter&#39; of an ongoing adaptation of Herman Melville&#39;s 1849 novel about the islands, The Encantadas.</p>

<p>Untitled (A Study in Refraction) explores form, color, and motion in a dark space. Shot on an iPhone11 using multicolor string lights and different household glassware.</p>

<p>An homage to Stan Brakhage&rsquo;s &ldquo;Mothlight&rdquo; (1963) and cybernetic computer art, made with errors produced by deliberately breaking contemporary &lsquo;generative AI&rsquo; video tools.</p>

<p>A revenge fantasy. A corrupted &amp; glitched daydream. A futile endeavor to cope with visions of terror&hellip; Sunflower Fields Forever! I cut scenes from various films by necrorealist filmmaker Yevgeni Yufit into a new narrative influenced by the pain unleashed by Russia&rsquo;s recent invasion of Ukraine. This new cut was data moshed and printed with an inkjet printer. As I allowed the ink cartridges to run empty, the prints and colors became faulty, adding another layer of glitching. For some scenes the prints were manipulated even further by collaging, applying water to the ink or using sticky tape to tear off parts of the images. The sound too is made entirely with sounds found in the same films which I collaged and manipulated as well.</p>

<p>Traces of the Unreal was created while digitizing an analogue film. As sunlight filtered through the reel, its reflections moved across the table, creating spontaneous light performances. Through real-time video effects, these fleeting reflections were transformed into abstract forms, while the accompanying soundscape was generated from the same visual and audio materials. The work becomes a meditation on transformation &mdash; from light to image, image to sound &mdash; blurring the boundaries between analog and digital perception.</p>

<p>The film opens with a black board and white title, accompanied by a 440 Hz square-wave control signal. A blue screen with slight grain appears, then a bass-drum-like beat begins and the colour shifts between blue and red, passing through various hues. The irregular rhythm, tempo undulations, stroboscopic effects and sudden jumps reflect a kind of electrical or mechanical anxiety. After two minutes a black screen and control signal interrupt the process before it returns.</p>

<p>This film explores the &ldquo;forms of the visible&rdquo; as anthropologist Philippe Descola puts it. Images educate the eye to see the world. The invention of perspective led to the invention of landscape painting and the contemplation of the distant. An animist&rsquo;s vision (which considers that non-human things have a spirit and a social life) operates on different scales. A close-up view reveals relationships between things. This film questions perception. The optical tracking shot, whose focus varies incessantly, modulates the viewer&rsquo;s gaze. The eye&rsquo;s path is deregulated, and the transition from macro to micro breaks the illusionist view and eliminates all perspective. No special effects are applied to the image : the plastic approach stems from the alteration of the video playback codec. The deteriorated video file fails - just like the deregulated eye - to render an illusionistic view. The explosion of color and the organic movements of pixels reveal a new possibility of looking.</p>

<p>Rip, cut, paste, repeat. Tape-stry is a short animation designed with Japanese washi tape being directly applied to 16mm film leader. Washi tape is a recent invention, created in the mid-2000s, and is known for its variety of colourful decorative designs, ease of use and having a sticky quality that leaves no residue. Inspired by the pattern films of Jodie Mack and Scott Fitzpatrick, this film layers numbers, cartoon cats and geometric shapes, and text. Artist Abby Brock created animated titles and an original flute soundtrack to accompany the film. The audio mirrors the layering and patterns of the washi tape through a stacked, non-melodic woodwind sound, while the fast-paced animation follows the abruptness of the visuals. Tape-stry is a playful manipulation of rice paper tape: rip, cut, paste, repeat.</p>

<p>Streaks of iridescence and dull clatter disintegrate the brutalist architecture of Albany&rsquo;s Empire State Plaza in Laura Kraning&rsquo;s ESP as modernist structures glitch, smear, and flicker through the intervention of a faulty inkjet printer, rendering the capital city into a pulsing monochrome tesseract, a sinister grid of light and noise.</p>

<p>Elegant and rigorous, while surprisingly playful, Chis Kennedy&rsquo;s Go Between observes the Brisbane River, passing boats, and cars on the William Jolly Bridge through an intoxicating play of masking and superimpositions.</p>

<p>The shape of light that seeps through the trees and the texture of the sand that passes through them.</p>

<p>A hand becomes the protagonist in a subtle, tactile exploration of the city of Barcelona&mdash;seen through the intimate lens of female artisan workshops, where the texture of touch, craft and labor shape the city&rsquo;s invisible interiors.</p>

<p>Inspired by a Bill Viola essay which relates three different kinds of &lsquo;video black&rsquo; to closing one&rsquo;s eyes, sleeping, and dying, this work thinks those states of darkness through rapidly failing and increasingly unsupported electronic equipment. Briefly remembered fantasy images, soft crackles of chromatic snow, and explosions of violent feedback form a death dream of analog video.</p>

<p>Taking inspiration from 20th-century avant-garde experiments in graphical sound generation, the entire image in O/S functions as an optical soundtrack. Abstract motion becomes sound. What you hear is what you see.</p>

<p>This film is a tribute to the influential artist and mentor, William Pope.L, following his passing on December 23, 2023. The narrative begins with a timelapse of a spathiphyllum plant, named WILLIAMBABE, purchased on the day of his death, symbolizing the quiet persistence of life and memory. The film transitions into a space shaped by two of Pope.L&rsquo;s works, Cliff (2012) and Better (2013), evoking a haunting yet reflective atmosphere.</p>

<p>Playful formalism at the coast. A film about two people shooting the same horizon and the staccato experience by which we piece together knowledge of place. Informed, but jumbled, the empirical, the guidebook, a scrap of interpretation board. A half remembered history class, a transliterated place name.</p>

<p>What if the rock could be a lens? And if it&rsquo;s not a question of if, but when? Braided Sand considers the geologic materiality of imaging and communication technologies. There is no glass lens without sand, which itself is the result of millions of years of geologic activity. Filmed at a sand mine, a glass factory and a nanotech laboratory, Braided Sand moves between observation and abstraction, juxtaposing human and geologic timescales, plunging the viewer into churning industrial environments to lay bare the weighty earthly bases of seemingly invisible and immaterial infrastructures.</p>

<p>A film about two people shooting the same horizon and the staccato experience by which we piece together knowledge of place. Informed but jumbled, the empirical, the guidebook, a scrap of interpretation board. A half‑remembered history class, a transliterated place name.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Here are some Images&rdquo; is an short film exploring the interplay between internal and external images, using hand-processed 16mm footage and musings on perception and memory.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Happy ending&rdquo; is part of the ongoing project &ldquo;Glossolalia&rdquo;, which proposes the construction of a common place by subverting the individualistic tradition of the road-movie. Taking as its motto the fiction of a couple who find an idea of ​​home on their road trips, the video explores the place of duration in an unrepresentable space beyond the resolution of the happy ending (a convention that marks the end of the dramatic interest of a story). Through repetition and looping, it plays with the archetype of the tunnel (a space of transition and transformation), remaining in a state of transition, between escape and ecstasy, light and darkness, speed and continuity. Unpredictable elements such as reflections and optical effects, radio sounds and interferences, laughter and breathing, become symbols of being on the road, where directions are influenced by</p>

<p>A dissection of the phases of holding (or not) onto composure while challenging gender norms</p>

<p>Digital footage of the river near the filmmaker&rsquo;s childhood home is laser-printed directly onto 16mm film, creating a shifting, liquified halftone. Memory dissolves into the texture of time. The printing bleeds onto the optical sound strip, the image obscuring the soundtrack. The landscape is impossible to return to.</p>

<p>A film where an alley acts as a calendar, charting the progression of a year. Grace Mitchell</p>

<p>Artist Jolene Mok contrasts the movements of Hong Kong&rsquo;s sparrows with different forms of local transport in response to Hong Fu&rsquo;s poem &lsquo;Suppose a Few Birds Fly By&rsquo;</p>

<p>A tessellating flicker film that seeks to undo the cold, impersonal architecture of the city by dousing it in organic and domestic forms. Featuring a collaged soundtrack of spam phone calls, pulsing synth chords, bagpipe drones, and a lullaby sung to the filmmaker&rsquo;s daughter while in‑utero.</p>

<p>Of this alternative &ldquo;world&rdquo; that seems to open up when dancing: it is about its temporary nature. The &ldquo;other place&rdquo;. This &ldquo;world&rdquo; that is known to be temporary, in which relationships with others seem to become more intense and important precisely because of its temporary nature. An instantaneous and ephemeral community: It is there and it is then.</p>

<p>This film poem was created during Juhannus, the Finnish celebration of the longest day of the year, using cyanotype, a contact copying process that uses light-sensitive iron salts in contact with UV light to create typically blue prints of objects. The illuminated shapes of leaves, stems, twigs, and fluff wander across the film material with increasing intensity, occasionally interspersed with flashes of blossoming flowers and a girl. The visual composition is accompanied by a delicate soundtrack composed of insect voices, the rustling of grass, and occasional jingling.</p>

<p>Slideshow reveals moments in time in the lives of strangers. Strangers to me, but maybe not to each other. Found in a Berlin flea market in the 1990&rsquo;s, these slides originated in the DDR (East Germany):an embossed DDR decorates the top of many of the vivid plastic slide frames. The slides&rsquo; photographic images were made of ephemeral materials. As objects, they have a certain graphic power, especially when illuminated on a light table. Scattered among the boxed-up slides were also a few educational slides highlighting working sites. Additionally, there seem to be a few commercially produced images of soldiers, the border&mdash;these were in cardboard slide frames and may have been produced by West German companies. Time and place are suggested&mdash;sometime before 1989, when the wall came down. Working with the slides, I came to feel that I knew some of the people. Many emerged across multiple slides. But I can only know their traces.</p>

<p>Shot over a period of three years in a single interior space, this film explores the limits of perception through the textural surface of expired film stock and layered images. Ephemeral moments meld into voids of grain.​</p>

<p>The Interior Frontier operates in a confused time-state of period dress and modern society, between fact and fiction; dealing with silence as sound, the invisible war of female life, tornado as existence, and the world&#39;s largest hand dug hole.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Assis (Seated)&rdquo; is a highly condensed experimental moving-image work by Pierre Yves Clouin, comprising a 1-minute composition filmed in Paris (2022). The film invites attentiveness to stillness and absence: its frames withhold narrative, invite the viewer to dwell upon withheld gesture and suspended presence.</p>

<p>Niagara pays homage to the Hudson River School landscape painting of the same title: swirling colors and shapes evoke the grandeur of its namesake waterfall. Produced while Artist in Residence at the Institute for Electronic Arts at Alfred University, and made using Lumia, a Sandin Image Processor, and a BPMC HDK-01 digital glitch processor, the imagery evokes the flows and turbulence of falling water in motion. The continuous stream of the digital-electronic signal becomes a mirror for the flow of water and passage of light (Lumia) that is both the vehicle of presentation and the initial subject matter being transformed.</p>

<p>Reporting from the Ghost Cities of the Metaverse explores empty and ineffective metaverse platforms using video, social media relational aesthetics, and live streaming performance/discussions. These artistic forms serve to critique techno-feudalist fantasies by examining the siloing of creative possibility in real time using glitch processing and dialectical argumentation in text and sound.</p>

<p>Deep Time of Latent Space relates the strata of human activity within large language models as another layer of the Anthropocene, which places AI into the realm of geological thinking that spirals into deep time and broadcasts into the future.</p> <p>The AI narrator takes us through the most incomprehensible moments of our history starting with the big bang, creation of earth, and the start of life. It uses its generalized knowledge to resolve our grasp of these moments into data-visualized images. It does so with confidence and a little bit of attitude, however, it tends to hallucinate. These hallucinations shine a light on what is needed to create a more ethical and accurate AI.</p> <p>The Jefferson Project at Lake George uses specific and local data to understand the impact of human activity on fresh water, and how to mitigate those effects. A short interview with Dr. Jeremy Farrell shares how the Jefferson Project uses machine learning to create predictive models for understanding the patterns of past and reaching into the future to assist in preservation. A useful model for understanding the value of the local and self-generated databases.</p> <p>Lake George was also chosen as a site of deep time and for its art historical significance. At the birth of geology in the nineteenth century the emerging science was in vogue. Many painters from the Hudson River School including John Frederick Kensett, Thomas Cole, and other painters painted portraits of rocks at the lake&#39;s shores. This point of time marks a transformative shift away from the biblical 6,000-year age of the earth to the conception of deep time that spans billions of years. Its implications allow for long-term thinking today. Another component to help guide the future of AI.</p>

<p>Paradise is our earth. It is located in the midst of the impressive nature and rich biodiversity of Kenya. An experimental film tells the story of Adam and Eve&rsquo;s earthly return to paradise with the help of a small wooden garden house that falls from the sky. Inside are two urns containing the ashes of the two bodies of the couple, who loved each other unconditionally and lived happily together in Kenya for half a century until they died together.</p>

<p>&ldquo;Katpar&rdquo; posits an alternative history of the material culture of the region between the Great Steppe and the Tien Shan mountain chain. It presents a &ldquo;fiction‑artefact&rdquo; album of objects ranging from nails to large‑scale production buildings and high‑tech machines, all of which reflect the forms (fold‑qatpar) shaped by the tension between local nature and culture over centuries</p>

<p>Part of an on-going hand-process project that echos 17th century Chinese novels and the current political plights. Drifting from being controlled and out-of-control, from film negative to positive, from compositional clash and evasion, the film applies labor-intensive processes, questioning suppression choreographically</p>

<p>Filmed at Hongjecheon in Seoul, Mokgamcheon in Gwangmyeong, and Gulpocheon in Incheon, the film captures the impressions of three streams in three different cities. Each of the three streams intersects and overlaps with images of the filmmaker&rsquo;s own body.</p>

<p>An obsessive reverence for grime. Intimate closeups explore a laundromat in Johnson City, NY, finding beauty in the disrepair. Optically printed black &amp; white images superimposed on their color counterparts sparkle with processing errors, fetishizing the dust, the peeling paint.</p>

<p>A portrait of the filmmaker&rsquo;s mother, framed through her crystals, supplements, jewelry, healing instruments, and household adornments.</p>

<p>Sixty years ago, a 30-year-old waitress and single mother, was persuaded to engage in psychotherapy sessions on film, with three of the most influential Theorist-Psychologists of the 20th century. Reeves newest dual-projection film breaks down and expands this widely viewed work &ldquo;Three Approaches to Psychotherapy&rdquo; with an intricate superimposed montage of scenes from Gloria&rsquo;s unguarded sessions and numerous film artifacts of her lifetime: newsreels, home movies, commercials, a beauty pageant, cold war propaganda, and educational films from the 1930s-1970s.</p> <p>Sixty years ago, a 30-year-old waitress and single mother, was persuaded to engage in psychotherapy sessions on film, with three of the most influential Theorist-Psychologists of the 20th century. Reeves newest dual-projection film breaks down and expands the seminal film series Three Approaches to Psychotherapy with an intricate superimposed montage consisting of material from Gloria&rsquo;s unguarded sessions and numerous film artifacts of her lifetime: newsreels, home movies, commercials, a beauty pageant, cold war propaganda, and educational films from the 1930s-1970s.</p> <p>The Gloria of your Imagination immerses audience members in an unabashed patriarchal, nationalistic era which many U.S. conservatives are working tirelessly to recreate. Social and legal limitations of that era, which formed Gloria and the struggles of her generation, remain unacknowledged in the sessions. While the therapists seem progressively non-judgmental about Gloria&rsquo;s active sex life, there is no mention that contraceptives are actually illegal for her to take. Reeves&rsquo; original intertitle script fills in missing context and introduces Gloria&rsquo;s greater life and self: from her Polish-Catholic upbringing to marriage straight from high school to an ever-evolving single parent on a spiritual journey, living by her own principles, until an untimely death at 46 years of age.</p> <p>By projecting films that Gloria could have seen in their original 16mm format, on top of portions from Gloria&rsquo;s psychotherapy sessions, viewers absorb the culture of that era directly. Original 16mm shot by Reeves, and footage doctored with her signature Direct-on-film techniques, bring about viewers&rsquo; subjective experiences and visceral connections to Gloria&rsquo;s inner experience. The &ldquo;three Glorias&rdquo; put on display by therapists with vastly divergent methods and conclusions, are displaced by the Glorias viewers experience, and perhaps by the courageous and determined individual imagined by the filmmaker.</p> <p>Director Biography -&nbsp;Jennifer T Reeves</p>

<p>a play on the light, lost in the woods, longing</p>

<p>Birds looking anxiously at a threat beyond the frame, and then the threat arrives. Mixing a found footage educational film with sci-fi and horror traditions and hand-painted manipulation of the film stock, a familiar narrative is inverted, recontextualizing the fear of others through the anthropocentric eye.&nbsp;</p>

<p>Over the course of a few summer days, Luc&iacute;a is left in charge of a house in order to take care of a parrot. As she comes up with a small domestic routine, from the neighboring gardens come the sound of celebrations, a film and children pretending to be spies.</p>

<p>A MiniDV exposure malfunction recorded at Dettifoss on April 26, 2024.</p>

<p>mmm is an eclectic collection of the clouds captured in Japanese cinema from the 1920s to the present. Drawing inspiration from the 35mm film materials of Japanese physicist and cloud expert Masanao Abe (1891&ndash;1966) and scientist Tapio Schneider&rsquo;s apprehension of a future with cloudless skies, mmm looks at formlessness as an essential actor in the history of cinema.</p>

<p>Exo Gestus is an ambient experimental video exploring the way that motion sensors incorrectly track my body. An amalgamation of the glitches that occur from tracking my movements as I dance, rather than correct it, I embrace the glitches of a body that cannot be captured. My Mocap suit is too big for me. It is designed for a bigger body than mine. My body is too small even for the smallest size. Because of this, my body size creates glitches in the mocap data tracks. I embrace the glitches and dance for the sensors. The sound is a recording of my feet dragging across the floor.</p>

<p>This is a visual investigation of proliferation, growth through repetition and accumulation. Continuous expansion and endless repetition seem to be permanent fixtures of contemporary life, and this video utilizes found footage and 3D software to play with loops, repetition, and nightmarish visions of replication. Inky digital blemishes bleed into the visual collages, and wash away the image as the expanding &ldquo;carchitecture&rdquo; inevitably collapses.</p>

<p>As light passes through a screen, an imaginary cinema rises from a woman&#39;s eyes as a vision.</p>

<p>Simonsong is a video piece, a musical system that exists only through a visual process, in this case a mockery of technological hegemony in the arts, and particularly in the world of contemporary music. In the most trivial representation of the digital tool, up to 16 384 &quot;mousists&quot; (plastic mouse interpreters) play virtuosos in the way of the child&#39;s game Simon. Desktopsongs is a cycle of video pieces questioning our relationship with technology. Each work, inspired by desktop movie practice, is a musical system dependent on a visual process. The cycle includes Screensong, questioning data collection related to privacy, Simonsong, questioning technological hegemony in the world of contemporary music, and Playpausesong, questioning mass media consumption.</p>

<p>In the early morning hours, they come next to your bed and lean to your ear. A stranger&#39;s voice forces you to wake up: Do you remember what you dreamt last night? You lay frozen in fear, staring at the sunlight coming into the room through the heavy curtains. You had too much to dream last night, too much to dream. I find dreams so intriguing. Why do they reach lengths far beyond our consciousness? What is the reason for this vivid and surreal experience? Dreams have power. Especially reoccurring childhood nightmares. They speak to you, they scare you and they can make you avoid going to sleep. Dreams reveal secrets you are not aware of. What is hidden in your mind? Like a fairytale mirror, often reflecting the truth, dreams let you catch a glimpse into the unconscious world. Psychoanalysts are especially fascinated by the unsettling nature of dreams. Sigmund Freud thought that dreams are the &lsquo;royal road to the unconscious&rsquo;, revealing our deepest desires and fears. According to him, recurring nightmares provide a way of processing anxieties or difficult experiences. I have created &lsquo;Dreams From The Past&rsquo; based on my recurring nightmare about mirrors I used to see in my childhood.</p>

<p>Chroma Culture is a video work that is literally grown. The process for growth combines optical video feedback, digital video processing and projection mapping to create an evolving organic phenomena that recalls the behavior of micro-organisms in a petri dish. Three discrete chromatic feedback systems (Red, Green, Blue) exist in the same space, fighting for territory. The work is seeded using coloured laser pens, encouraging each chromatic &lsquo;culture&rsquo; to grow steadily. As each colour expands, it bumps up against another. This creates a constant flux as individual colour growth is amplified by the feedback system, yet inhibited by the other colours sharing the space. Winner of the A-Life 2020 Inspired Art Award, at the A-Life artificial Life conference in Montreal, 2020. This video is a recording of the core work, which can be adapted to a live / interactive installation, dependent on certain presentation conditions.</p>

<p>Part-Time Moon documents a fantasy of an artificial moon that is created inside the artist&rsquo;s studio. The film is initiated from glazing over on a filmmaking tool. Compared to the real moon, the part-time moon carries an anthropomorphic character: it moves, changes luminosity and color on its own. The camera chases after this organic moon from far to close. It dances, playing hide-and-seek with the camera. The film takes the apparatus usually behind the camera back to the front of the lens, producing a visual-driven narration which is out of the norm.</p>