Technicolor Dream

Enigma is something of a more glamorous version of White Hole, with a wide variety of elaborate textures (often composed of iconographic and religious symbols) converging towards the centre of the screen.

An experimental film comprised of Stanley Kubrick's THE SHINING played forwards and backwards at the same time on the same screen, creating bizarre juxtapositions and startling synchronicities.

A ritual of grids, reflections and chasms; a complete state of entropy; a space that devours itself; a vertigo that destroys the gravity of the Earth; a trap that captures us inside the voids of the screen of light: «That blank arena wherein converge at once the hundred spaces» (Hollis Frampton).

Abstract video art with music composed by Philip Glass. Music by the Kronos String Quartet.

Best known for his work in video, Richard Fung has made the politics of gender, ethnicity, and sexual orientation his central focus. Chinese Characters (1986) examines the ambiguous relationship of gay Asian men with white gay porn.

'Ki or Breathing' is a spare concoction assembled from slow motion shots of nature and set to a score by the much-acclaimed Tohru Takemitsu.

White Homeland Commando takes the familiar terrain of network action drama and tilts the playing field. Reminiscent of today's popular reality-based cop shows, White Homeland Commando offers a straightforward story: four members of a special police unit investigate and infiltrate a New York-based white supremacist organization. But that is where the commonplace ends. The teleplay is shot and edited in a highly textured visual style, the colors are subdued yet somehow garish, and the sound is deliberately just out of sync with the speaker's lips. Occasional static combines with jumps in the plot — the editing is reminiscent of a television viewer flipping channels.

Deaf artist Seo Hye Lee gives new subtitles to a selection of archive films about pottery, ones which playfully examine the disparity between how people with different levels of hearing experience art.

A coyote walks through a distorted reality without color.

First single from the album "por favor, me perdoe. as más notícias finalmente chegaram" by Crise, which will be released soon.

It’s often a sense of shakiness which emerges in seeking affordable rent. Furthermore, leasing a real estate in the time of Covid it’s an enough though enterprise due to the different restrictions in moving freely and without any fear even visiting the venue, still not to mention the angst before the future that a change in life like a relocation involves so that everything starts spinning around. Such a pretty much postmodern sensation should have had Hazel in the Synecdoche, New York by Charlie Kaufman when she rents a burning house, which becomes quite her home yet with this persisting sense of precarity still not precluding to keep going. The experience is now translocated in another city, Turin. It still remains a burning house in a burning city, however it becomes home to someone.

The innovative and influential British filmmaker Derek Jarman was invited to direct the Pet Shop Boys' 1989 tour. This film is a series of iconoclastic images he created for the background projections. Stunning, specially shot sequences (featuring actors, the Pet Shop Boys, and friends of Jarman) contrast with documentary montages of nature, all skillfully edited to music tracks.

If a machine would possess a soul it might be a beach. Every single sand corn symbolizes a data-set of a memory captured in the world wide web saved deep down in the ocean. From there the bytes condense and finally reach the cloud. But how would it feel for a machine to see the glitch waves and feeling the shore stones on its case? What would be the colours of the coastline? Glitching Offshore tries to portrait the soul of an AI and the universe behind it. Glitching offshore, alike drifting away as in a psychogeographical dérive (furthermore, away from the "rive": bank) where human intentional yet chaotic action is substituted by pixels' stirrings of the soul.

As her marriage to decorated war hero Oliver draws near, well-heeled Diana moves into an apartment within an otherwise unoccupied, sprawling London house where she starts to experience strange and terrifying nightmares. But are these troubling night terrors merely the symptom of an unsettled mind, or the sign of something far more sinister at work? Hounded by a pair of sleazy journalists, Diana soon crosses paths with American tourist Jenny, who appears to have a strange connection to the foreboding house and its dark past.

This is a didactic film in disguise. A progression of brilliant geometric shapes bombard the screen to the insistent beat of drums. The filmmaker programmed a computer to coordinate a highly complex operation involving an electronic beam of light, colour filters and a camera. This animation film, without words, is designed to expose the power of the cinematic medium, and to illustrate the abstract nature of time.

Today, analogue video is attractive primarily thanks to the distinctive aesthetic quality of its pixelated image and raster errors. But for Czech artists who first explored the possibilities offered by video art in the late 1980s, this medium represented a path towards freedom. Through a portrait of her grandfather Radek Pilař, one of the pioneers of Czech video art, the director explores her own legacy of imperative creative fascination. Her film’s main story, i.e., the process of reconstructing the 1989 exhibition Video Day, contrasts this enchantment with life in the final days of the totalitarian regime, which different sharply with the adventures of those who decided to emigrate – whom the filmmaker also visits in order to discover forgotten works, get to know their creators, and re-establish broken ties.