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2005, screeningLive search( total items: 15 ) (Why do I keep going) ForwardGoing forward feels good. With the wind in your hair on the deck of a ship or the platform of a railway carriage - when the landscape begins to pass more and more quickly before your eyes, your body knows that you are heading for the future. But why does it feel so good to be moving forward? (Why do I keep going) Forward begins with this question, immediately linking the feeling of going forward with 'progress'. While images recorded from trains, boats and planes pass us by, we can hear someone thinking aloud; someone who is asking himself questions. Questions about our love of nature and of culture - as sources of harmony and civilization. Because, do nature and culture not obey the same laws as we apply to the economy? FakturaFaktura is a work that explores a series of virtual environments, focusing on the infinite variety of forms and textures one might find. Morphing, evolving abstract objects appear against a backdrop of evocative music that sets the tone and affect of each scene. The piece develops over a 9-minute time frame, yet presents a timeless, shifting and (perhaps?) disorienting experience to the viewer. Cross ContoursCross Contours explores a variety of nearly identifiable icons and images and develops numerous associations among them. The work is in three sections, with each retaining the same color space despite the appearance of new or transformed objects and forms. The music adds an affective layer and helps control the work’s dramatic development. Dies IraeSpecial MentionBy taking us on a dense and multi-layered, beautiful travel through all the world's infrastructure, Périot leaves us puzzled by ending on the dead-end street of a former world-war II concentration camp. , remember Living a Beautiful LifeSpecial MentionA subtle confrontation with the unbearable lightness of perfection, leaving us in a state where one can only yearn for sin.. In 'Lord of the Flies', William Golding describes a group of children being washed ashore on a desert island, where they design their own social structure as if it were a natural process. It is remarkable to witness how quickly the theoretical ideal formulated by the children becomes blemished. Their society degenerates into a very cruel, unjust and violent one. As introduction to Living a beautiful life, Schnitt shows a fragment from Der Katzenprinz, a Czech-East-German film made in 1978. Here, as in a vision, we see the reverse; cheerful, naked children living in a paradise where even wild animals are free from cruelty. The fragment is rather over the top, and, due also to the imagery, recognizable as an exponent of 1970s ideas on freedom and happiness. Which in turn confronts us with the fact that, by now, these ideas have become rather tainted and have been superseded by sense of reality. Although? Has anything taken their place? CounterThis is a work based on found footage. Schreiner extracted sequences with numbers from many movies, both classic and obscure. Using these short fragments he compiled a countdown starting from the number 266. A strong effect of suspense is created, the tight-paced montage holding the viewer's attention. Cultural QuarterSphinx AwardA piece that raises ethical questions on social voyeurism as well as social behaviour. Looking at the surveillance-like images, edited in a very subtle yet very manipulative way, we stand perplex on the social interaction of an unspecified suburb community, witnessing what seems an almost common routine and leaving us with feelings of disconnection, despair, and an overall state o shock, of not understanding the reality that is presented in front of us. By registering a daily reality that we usually want to close our eyes for, Mike Stubbs confronts us with a meticulously detailed social drama and manages to open our eyes in a most powerful and sustaining way. Cultural Quarter presents the relationships of observation in the city to its citizens, whilst begging ethical questions about surveillance, the gaze and human behaviour. It exposes some of the gaps between developers' dreams and citizens' perceptions of what cultural space means and how to use it. FossilizationIn Fossilization video is used as a kneading machine. Layers of images are moulded into a sticky mess that absorbs and attracts everything it touches. It's an apocalyptic endgame starring several cars, some human remains and maybe even some wishful thinking of on a moody, rainy day. A hermetic meditation on the happy decay of Western civilization it blends oil addiction, social segregation, speed, mass tourism and mass media into a dirty pixel cocktail with a sour aftertaste. Warning Petroleum PipelineSpecial MentionA computer animation that strikingly shows us the impact of an ever-increasing dependence on our energy- and production-based society. The movement of information across the worldwide web is invisible. Bits and bytes slip soundlessly through slender cables, to arrive, in no more than a split second, at the computer for which they are meant, where they can be used again at the click of a mouse. In contrast, the movement of oil is a messy and ponderous affair, which makes huge claims on the landscape and built-up areas. Bulky, rusty pipes traverse the fields, while trucks and tankers toil slowly over roads and oceans, accompanied by the threat of pollution and explosion. Both processes have drastically changed the world, and continue to keep economic and political relations on the alert. With its black-and-white collage-like images, 'Warning Petroleum Pipeline' is reminiscent of art that, in the early twentieth century, was intended to depict the destructive power of the emerging heavy industry. Can I have two minutes of your time?Starting from the continuous filming of a clock's display for two minutes, the video was processed in a realtime-programming-environment for video. The individual frames were then printed on paper and subsequently redrawn frame by frame in charcoal and oil paint. Scanned back, the frames were animated as the final video. The goal of this video was then to explore the idea of time in the crossing of analogue and digital techniques: starting from 2 minutes, reducing the video to 6 single images and then expanding it once again to 2 minutes, restoring the loss of quality introduced by the digital/mechanical manipulation trough the use of diverse analogue/manual recreations of each discrete frame. In the end, the symbolic representation of time is no longer readable but time and the mechanisms for representing and capturing it are felt all along the piece. Tunnel VisionIn cinematic films, the relationship between camera and viewer is usually more or less one to one: the camera shows what the viewer would be seeing if he were in the place of action. And indeed, the viewer usually imagines a body attached to the camera, a body that behaves exactly like his own. This body can turn its head or bend its knees; it can come forward to take a closer look or step back to get an overview. Jasper van den Brink takes pleasure in letting this imaginary camera-body perform the impossible. In Tunnel Vision it is floating and tumbling through a road tunnel, holding on to the belly of a turning cement mixer. In this way, using effective camera positions rather than special effects or complex digital tricks, he undermines the one-to-one relationship with the viewer. (Netherlands Media Art Institute, Vinken & van Kampen.) Sliding WhitesSliding Whites is a poetic work that deals with coincidence and structure. Almost like a research project that tries to analyze the relationship between human movement and a technical structure (the monitor screen in this case). It is most joyful to watch the elegant and constantly changing movements. The author successfully seduces us to listen to his poetic rhymes in white. |