No Impersonator , Perpetrator

Performance video about a holiday romance at St Ives, Cornwall.

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A film about friendship and the occasional loneliness.

Locked away but not away; somewhere nearby but unreachable, a periphery so notfaroff it's always in sight.

Return to 'burn' only to find out you're already in that urn.

(Some of us) Still run down the same [mental&emotional] streets we revered/reproached/replaced as children.

Part of a collection of restored early works by Nam June Paik, the haunting Beatles Electronique reveals Paik's engagement with manipulation of pop icons and electronic images. Snippets of footage from A Hard Day's Night are countered with Paik's early electronic processing.

A film that places the bright and dark sides of life close together. From an understatement beginning, the movie drives up to an ecstatic highlight with a love act between two young people. The orgasm becomes an enormous image flow into the crematorium's death machine.

Shortly before his death, Romitelli together with his friend Paolo Pachini and the poetess Kenka Lèkovich, resurrected the dream of a total scenic art (a furnace of sensations, they called it, an_ initiation rite_) in the manner of the Futurists: rhythms and gleams of light striking metals (for the video part), poems in iron and chrome singing of fusion with matter (Kenka Lekovich), acoustic/electric music highly amplified, filtered, spatialised, in as artificial a manner as possible. An Index of Metals bears vigorous witness to this determination to go beyond: sizzling orchestration, electric and psychedelic; a voice which plays on effects, murmurs with reverb, cackles into a megaphone, screams like a pop star; and an electric guitar score of a kind that no ‘serious’ composer has ever written, sliding across an infinite range of tones with a lightness of touch and blurring of contours.

It's time the times met each other over & over.

Don't ask me why, but I feel we're about to cry trying.

Say Om as you reach home only to realize you never really left/stopped saying Om.

Abandoning the Abaddon-loathed abandoner opens plenty of reclaimed... everything(s).

Rather pointless, rather stilted, fetid; not what we want us going after.

3 minute experimental film.

10 minute experimental film. Warning: this video involves frequent strobing.

James Sumner directs and animates the entire Dirty Projectors’ The Getty Address.

A film in five different sections, each containing a different soundscape by Ostrowski. Hand painted film, intense exposure, morphing textures and shapes into a seamless whole; geometrical games sabotaging themselves; and the incessant lure of the abstract paint drift. The soundscapes, of course, build up like fountains of picture, oscillating between contemplative sculptures with electronically manipulated strings and harsh noise attacks on our senses. Despite the use of sound as a central filmic element, Cyanonide stands as a proof of the enduring influence of Brakhage on american avant-film.

A young girl’s fiery dance, accidentally caught on 16 mm film in the street. The viewer is confronted by the sacrificial and the passionate, the strong and the fragile, the fleeting and the eternal. These are the faces of femininity.

As technology accelerates, our species' collective imagination of the future grows ever more kaleidoscopic. We are all haunted by temporal distortion, perhaps no more than when we attempt to remember what the future looked like to our younger selves. As the mist of time devours our memories, the future recedes; each of us burdened by the gaping mouth of entropy. Yet, emerging technology provides a glimmer of hope; transhumanism promises a future free from mortality, disease and pain. Does our salvation lie in digital simulacra? We're here to sell you the answer to that question, for the low, low price of four hundred and seventy seconds.