Light Matter is Co-Programmed by James Hansen & Eric Souther
Program One: Where Were We?
Friday Nov. 12th, 5:30PM
Stephanie Barber, USA, 2020, 9 min
The horizon, where the sky and the earth meet, is always elsewhere, is a promised place where these two elements come together. a metaphor, an orienting, a promise of transition, change, transcendence. a place where the corporeal and spiritual meet, or are cleaved apart.
here, the space between narrative and documentary, fact and fiction, is literally scratched between two voices, also cleaved apart or brought beside. jayne love reads a text i wrote for her––short sentences on the concept of the horizon and the briefest suggestion of narrative collide with pieces of richard (oswan) williams’ beautiful, rum-fueled living room sermons to me.
i lived, for a few months, in richard, and his wife mary’s, apartment, the site of their voodoo spiritual temple in new orleans. of course, as priests and priestesses richard and mary spoke often of death, transcendence, ethics and health. our days were slow and filled with philosophical rumination, richard, a brilliant old man schooling a young wandering wonderer. i recorded most everything on cassette tapes back then and some of those have made it here to the present. to this horizon we’re at now.
Connie Coleman & Alan Powell, USA, 1981, 3 min
Hot Pink was produced in 1981 at the Experimental TV Center in Owego, NY and post produced at WXXI television the same year. Connie Coleman and I went that particular residency to completely focus on learning the computer interface to the Experimental Television Center analog video system. Quickly the computer crashed and we left to own devices to improvise with live cameras and analog synthesizers. The piece is constructed by an oscillator driving four B&W video cameras through a Jones video sequencer, Jones Keyer, and Jones colorizer. The cameras were focused on close ups of Connie Coleman’s and Alan Powell’s mouth. For three to five minutes we blew kisses back and forth. The keyers put various combination of keys putting one mouth inside of the other. The video was bathed in various shades of highly saturated pink. At WXXI we speeded up the ending and added a still frame to variation in the rhythm. The piece has been in numerous video festivals and museum shows including the ETC archive video collection. The video has been censored numerous times because the gatekeepers can’t figure out what they are seeing.
Simon Liu, Hong Kong, 2020, 13 min
British Colonial-era structures overlook scenes in the aftermath of civil unrest as Hong Kongers work to retain some semblance of normality. The sound of petty arguments from local TVB soap-operas of the 80s are put in concert with captive animals, political graffiti and desolate highways. Suspension cables and ship anchor lines reveal a fragile urban anatomy; the structures that keep the city moving along. As civic functions grind to a halt, the limits of our empathy and control come into question. As the days teeter toward an uncertain future, Happy Valley cinematically probes the role of the so-called “little things”. A rendering of the perseverance of spirit in Hong Kong - an attempt at irony that can’t help but be emotional.
Laura Kraning, USA, 2020, 4 min
Fracture mines the slips between stillness and motion, as cracks and fissures of bark and stone are spliced and layered, frame by frame, intersecting slices of time. Gathered and assembled over two years, the scarred surfaces of tree limbs and stratified rock collide with slabs of marble and clusters of moss, crystallizing into a flickering mirage of radiating branches and splintered veins of iridescence.