It Dawned on Me

To produce speech, a set of mechanisms must be brought together. What is the normal articulation for speech? How to produce the sounds that make it up in the correct way? A physiological analysis of the aspects of speech shows us how: the jaw must move in a certain way; the air must be expelled from the lungs in another. Based on the concepts stated in the film "Normal Speech Articulation" (1965), produced by the University of Iowa (USA), we intend to reflect on the way women have been represented, and consequently educated, over the years, both in film and in the media. Largely composed of archival footage, this film intends to make evident, through a montage inspired by Structuralist movements, the violence of this education.

A hen questions the meaning of her life on a farm.

Las Preguntas que Perdimos

Ellie Epp’s 12-shot study of a soon-to-be-demolished public bath in London, which “maps another way out of structural film toward a cinema of delicate implication".

Outtakes, commentary from Zefier's third film: Jo; or The Act of Riding a Bike.

Jo; or The Act of Riding a Bike is Zefier's third film.

The horses in Denys Colomb Daunant’s dream poem are the white beasts of the marshlands of the Camargue in South West France. Daunant was haunted by these creatures. His obsession was first visualized when he wrote the autobiographical script for Albert Lamorisse’s award-winning 1953 film White Mane. In this short the beauty of the horses is captured with a variety of film techniques and by Jacques Lasry’s beautiful electronic score.

This film was made out of the capture of a live animation performance presented in Rome in January 2005 by Pierre Hébert and the musician Bob Ostertag. It is based on live action shooting done that same afternoon on the Campo dei Fiori where the philosopher Giordano Bruno was burned by the Inquisition in 1600. A commemorative statue was erected in the 19th century, that somberly dominate the market held everyday on the piazza. The film is about the resurgence of the past in this place where normal daily activities go on imperturbably. The capture of the performance was reworked, shortened and complemented with more studio performances.

A seagull, a dog, a child, a call to prayer; Looking through a window, the corridor of a train, the wall of a medina; Everyday life is momentarily paused through the eyes of a stranger in an unknown land.

This short film is part of Karpo Aćimović Godina's experimental and documentary work in 1970s Yugoslav cinema. It extends his interest in regional identities, minorities, and the visual traces left by different cultures on Yugoslav territory. The film offers a journey through examples of architecture, decor, and objects related to Islamic tradition in the former Yugoslavia, such as mosques, ornamental elements, and calligraphy. It explores how this art is embedded in the region's history and in the daily lives of the communities that produced it. It is an observational film, without a dramatic plot, functioning primarily as a "visual essay" on the material culture of Islam in a Balkan context. The tone is analytical and contemplative, closer to a cultural study or a poetic inventory.

An experimental short film about what one can observe from a balcony overlooking Avenida de América, Madrid.

An exploration of the individual components that make up a jazz improvisation, told in 13 parts.

An experience of a camera swinging in different gestures facing the optical distortion of the Sun. The last appearance of the smudge.

“Beneath the Concrete, The Forest” is a short experimental documentary that takes us inside an ongoing struggle inside the city of Atlanta, GA between two sides to determine the future of Weelaunee, the biggest contiguous urban forest in the country.

Sara and Alberto spend their days at home. They look out the window and watch: spring is approaching and the sun is setting later and later. Alberto entertains himself by playing with the light, the shadows and the nooks and crannies they leave on the living room. Sara goes out on the balcony in the evenings and examines the neighborhood with her camera. When they are in bed, they talk about what worries them. About job expectations. About being creative and why keep trying, if someone else has done it before you. About living in confinement, but at the same time, realizing that things haven't changed as much as they seem.

Using archival iPhone footage of both the places my father and I call home and our childhood photos, this work collages time and space, traveling from 1975 to 2022 and from Havana, Cuba to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and in between. His home is my home, and my home is his.

Two women in a living room: smoking, playing cards, listening to the radio. As often in Dwoskin’s films, the use of masks, make-up and costumes allows the characters to playfully transform themselves. Shot in colour film, C-film exuberates swinging London energy. In the second part of the film, the women appear to be watching the rushes of the film on an editing table. ”We are making a movie” we hear them say. As Dwoskin points out, “C-film asks how much is acting acted”, an ongoing question in Dwoskin’s cinema. Produced by Alan Power, with Esther Anderson & Sally Geeson.

Filmmaking icon Agnès Varda, the award-winning director regarded by many as the grandmother of the French new wave, turns the camera on herself with this unique autobiographical documentary. Composed of film excerpts and elaborate dramatic re-creations, Varda's self-portrait recounts the highs and lows of her professional career, the many friendships that affected her life and her longtime marriage to cinematic giant Jacques Demy.

During the pandemic, a 14 year old boy remains stuck in his school dormitory while his mother tries to contact him.

A film essay that intertwines the director's gaze with that of her late mother. Beyond exploring mourning and absence as exclusively painful experiences, the film pays tribute to her mother through memories embodied by places and objects that evidence the traces of her existence. The filmmaker asks herself: What does she owe her mother for who she is and how she films? To what extent does her film belong to her?