7:00pm Sunday 29th June 2008
at A Perfect Drop
5 Howe Street, Daylesford, Victoria, Australia
London has long been a hub for Australian film and video artists as much as Australia has become a home for many British ones. This screening features four artists working in film or digital video who each have shifting connections with both places. Curated by sue.k. and Steven Ball.
liverpool223355 sue.k. 28 mins, video, UK, 2006
Cryptic Burgess Dub Steven Ball 12 mins, video, UK, 2006
The Surface Marcus Bergner 16 mins, video, Australia, 2004
Laurel's Handle Mike Leggett 10 mins, video, Australia, 2004
steps---89 sue.k. 17 mins, video, Australia, 2003
28 mins, video, UK, 2006
Shot at the height of summer in 2002, liverpool223355 captures the brilliance of light on an almost deserted nighttime platform at Liverpool Street Station, London. This work, more than any other produced by sue.k., references its materiality by introducing the primary colours of video, blue, red and green, and black and white in positive and negative in a series of still frame insertion within the edit weave. These are used to reference points in space and time determined by the subjective process of filming the original video material. The audio is edited in a way whereby it further extends the experience of space and time by announcing each introduction of a series of colour or positive and negative black and white.
Cryptic Burgess Dub
12 mins, video, UK, 2006
Dubstep meets experimental video meets cryptology. Electronic video manipulation follow dub music processes producing visual distortion, echo and reverb. Like much contemporary dubstep music this evokes the grimy South London summer, as pavements melt, the humidity rises, a steamy fug settles and the city slows into an uneasy and frazzled hallucinatory dub daze. The image track provides a background rhythm to an experiment testing a proposition that the cryptic in experimental art might not simply be subjective obfuscated poetical aestheticism, or self-reflexive formalism, but a vehicle for the transmission of statements which, from a current paranoiac 'homeland security' purview, could be considered as sensitive, even dangerous.
16 mins, video, Australia, 2004
The object (made) of after-images, The Surface has been made from liquid paper, white light and over 300 discarded 16mm educational films. It was screened as a work-in-progress in Los Angeles, two years ago and immediately after the screening, Berenice Reynaud, within the guise of a highly eloquent and charged set of reflections, explained how she thought the images in the film appeared fixated on death and ruination. At another art school screening of this work-in-progress, this time at the VCA in Melbourne, Chantal Faust enquired about what she thought were the persistent and subtle erotic, or haptic, elements within the same images.
Both of these observations, or comments, accurately and appropriately go someway in identifying two of the underlining preoccupations, or thematic tenets, that the film work has been investigating. For, among other things, it has fixated on exploring the distinctively embodied, fragmented and compelling form of visuality exclusively accessible to the event of viewing film. And, which are aspects, and qualities, central to the radical aesthetic associated with experimental cinema. Screening here is a digital transference and restoration of the ruined remains to cinema's recent past.
10 mins, video, Australia, 2004
The materials that construct an image on the screen - light, dark, colour, sound - move in relation to each other to construct a cinematic spectre. The shapes take on form which may have a bearing upon our memory of, encounters with, past perceptions. A hand, a handle, movement, transporting us across the dimensions of the screen, from the space of an image to a place of reminiscence. The banality of everyday activities, operations, procedures interact with memories of intimacy, distance, presence.
These shifting and confused gusts of memory never lasted for more than a few seconds; it often happened that, in my brief spell of uncertainty as to where I was, I did not distinguish the successive theories of which that uncertainty was composed any more than, when we watch a horse running, we isolate the successive positions of its body as they appear upon a bioscope.
Marcel Proust 'Swanns Way - In Search of Lost Time'.
17 mins, video, Australia, 2003.
A flight of stairs, eight trips down and eight trips up. steps---89 captures the mood and sense of agitation experienced within Londons Underground network.