An essay on absence and looking at the world. Fragments and images of precarious urban life. “A film made from the same material with which you make silence after a snowstorm. A sweet suspension, pushing each image towards eternal space. I tried to find a fundamental word, and I did not succeed. Each image in the Cantata approaches and penetrates this word, which I do not yet know. The film is woven from things that are true, speaking about it means distorting it, making it banal. All one can do is contemplate it. Accompany the experience and draw close to that part of it which is still trembling.” (Santiago Loza)

Play is een virtuoze montage van found footage waarin het publiek bekeken wordt. Girardet & Müller creëren een fictieve theaterruimte en een fictief evenement met een zorgvuldig opgebouwde spanningsboog...

In a book filled study, a poet journeys through the images of his post card collection, an extremely kitsch representation of Austria. We follow the poet in a film about narrative, memory, and the transience of language and images.

Sixty images of watches and clocks; sixty cinematic situations. Linear time, deconstructed space.

With her growing archive of urban images, Els Opsomer comments on and interprets global reality, which she juxtaposes with personal integrity. Also in this video letter, that she made with amateur software. In a personal report of a short visit to Palestine, she translates the lines of the letter to her friends into extensively processed and edited photos. She tries to transcend her impotence in this way.

Enlighten collages found images of scenes of lightning taken from a variety of existing films. The images are not ‘filmed from reality’, but were artificially produced for those films.

The Glass Wall started as a performance in which two people were permanently in contact with each other through a mobile with a headset, and gave each other orders. In the film, we see two girls cautiously but curiously making each other’s acquaintance. Their conversation soon turns to a charged role play in which sexual tension and manipulation are dominant. The spontaneous balance of power between the manipulator and victim evolves into a delicate understanding.  

It begins in a tunnel, this journey to the inner world. We are in a city in Mexico during a festival, but at the same time in the depths of the consciousness of a man who is descending further and further into the underworld. His voice describes how his eyes become sensitive to the darkness, as sensitive as a wound is to salt. How he falls endlessly, and how his body becomes longer than his mind can grasp. While he is talking, the people up in the streets are gathering to celebrate their rituals. Priests are leading a procession to the church, children are beating the drums. Rows of legs shuffling in step, like a centipede in a strange costume. Cocks are adorned with pairs of silver claws, while men are showing off their feathers. The Apocalyptic Man is a hypnotic mix of images, sounds and spoken text. Diaz Morales based his story on Los Siete Locos (The Seven Fools) by Roberto Arlt, a political novel set in early twentieth-century Argentina. Just as in this novel, the man's physical and mental state forms the oppressive undertone to what is happening aboveground.