as close as possible / as far as possible

“A production that no one will ever accuse of exploring light and movement for their own sakes. With a calculated indifference to craft, Burns celebrates himself in a portrait of the artist as a post-conceptual composite of Alfred Jarry and Ralph Nader. WHY CARS? details Burns’ strenuously bizarre campaign to establish pedestrian crosswalks in his Australian hometown, then follows the extension of his work across the globe to TriBeCa. […] [WHY CARS?] is an aggressive jumble of car wrecks, TV (interviews), scenes from loft life, and some Chinese propaganda shot off of the screen at Film Forum.” –J. Hoberman, VILLAGE VOICE

A costume designer is sent to the Catskills for an interactive theatre piece set in the 1920s. When she arrives things seem dark, strange and off. She soon realizes she is part of a student film.

1981 short film made by Nik Allday, the drummer on Cabaret Voltaire’s critically acclaimed third album ‘Red Mecca’, and features music by Allday and the Cabs’ Stephen Mallinder. The 10 minute abstract film uses raw material of video feedback and some nuclear bomb footage to represent “the cruel chaotic dysfunctional nature of the human condition with all its potential for self destruction”. Allday wanted a soundtrack that complemented the film thematically and approached Mallinder to see if he’d be interested in creating the audio.

A woman goes hunting night after night, looking for someone, anyone, to satisfy her hunger in an alienating urban landscape.

An unnamed passer-by is forced to trace a circular route inside an abandoned tram station, facing loss and time. The broken walls act as a channel, transmitting fragmentary, blurred and analogical memories. 

Andy Warhol's experimental reconstruction of the assassination of the President of the United States, John F. Kennedy, which serves as his critical commentary on the way the media presented the tragic event.

A bowl of blueberries in milk, changing light radiant on the berries and on the glazed bowl, the ever more radiant orb of milk transforming into glowing light itself, with a brief shadow coda answering the complex play of shadows. The regular pulses of light framing the looser rhythmus of the spoon, itself a frame. A charging of each of the frame's edges with its own particular energy. Within and without, whites and blues, lines and curves. The pulses of vision, the simple natural processes, lift the spirit.

A fixed camera companion to FOG LINE. Bright green leaves stripped from ears of corn, and later, the vibrant yellow ears placed steaming in the waiting bowl. Each of these actions inaugurates a period in which one contemplates an image whose steady transformation is barely perceptible–the delicate slow movement of light and shadow, the evolution of subtle steam into the film grain. A meditation on the fragile moments of corn's passage from living sun-nourished plant to food to light image. The mind attempts to grasp duration itself, to distinguish its own creating from its perceiving, but distictions blur in the wholeness of times's and consciousness' flow.

From the south of France, a science fiction film about the end of the Leisure Class and that which came to replace it.

Using only nature and his immediate surroundings, filmmaker Brandon Wilson creates an experimental documentary that ignites the imagination of wandering in nature, and creates a loving portrait to the woods he calls home. Over the course of a year, Wilson set out to document— and accentuate—his surroundings through camera filters, angles, repetition, and audio. The end result is a hypnotic journey through the hidden wonders and beauties of the Northwest forests, in vivid colors and immaculate black-and-whites.

A languid, beautifully shot collection of landscapes, edited into a whimsical and touching film.

Fuego

Someone falls off the scene and a tree is upside down. In the search for the roots, people are torn from their usual order, while in the dark connections are made. A woman tastes of the primordial soup and we end up in a system of people spinning around themselves. Only one person remains alone, but he gets unexpected comfort from somewhere.

Fragments 83 rediscovers—and repurposes—Richard Millen 1983 experimental film If You Can’t Be with the One You Love, shot in Brooklyn and the West Village in the early days of the AIDS epidemic. The resulting documentary explores the hunt for sex/love, the joy of making cinema, and the inexorable passage of time.

This movie consists of 100 frames. The length of 100 frames an analog 35 mm film is 6.25 feet = 1.91 meter. Keep other people at this comfortable distance. COVID-19 is bad! Stay safe!

Esmectatons Original Film - Regret

Glimpses of lives from a village in Assam reveal the relationship between its history and the present. People’s lives and beliefs are entangled with ecological strings , as nature stands witness to the narratives that unfolded there. A young boy, Rahul, hopes to write a book on his experience of growing up in this village. His mother, being deeply connected with nature can sense messages and signs arising from nature.. Urmila, a pregnant lady, is driven by sensorial experiences. But, In contrast to the serenity and harmonious living; there lurks a violent societal past.These peaceful and quiet lives intersect in a space where traumatic memories of death and loss in Assam’s thirty years of secessionist movement keep resurfacing.

This video art experiment and survey on human's visual and sound perception which have an influence on the way of life, national integration, and people's belief in fact. The video changes the way of human's usual perception by using a Thai ancient tale read by a calm voice, along with the annoying visual and sound.

In this short film, the French photographer, Valérie Jouve explores the way in which an era constructs countless layers of time and space without feeling any need to establish connections between them. The film is about time or, more precisely, the various times that today make up our everyday life.

This film is dedicated to Mas-Félipe Delavouët, the poet discovered by Lawrence Durrell, who wrote 14,000 verses in Provençal over a period of thirty years, and who died on November 18, 1990. "The sky, history and Mediterranean and Provençal myths are the inexhaustable wellspring of this man rooted down there, near Salon-de-Provence" (J.-D. Pollet). "Mas-Félipe Delavouët wrote five books in Provençal, 14,000 verses. A sort of "Odyssey". Of myths. What is stunning in him is that he always talks of disappearances. Cities, works, men, writings, television, etc., everything has to disappear. In order to be reborn. No pain. A sort of hand-to-hand of man and nature. During the filming, I would simply throw out some words... For example, one time I said "creation" and he said: "creation doesn't exist..., creation is before me..., I can only read creation"; this sentence describes Delavouët perfectly (J.-D. Pollet, 1989 and 1993).