Une Mission Ephemere

EPFC | January 5th, 2018

Guest Curator: Will Rahilly
The Month’s Theme: Intersections of 3D and Reality

#1 • Piotr Kamler • Une Mission Ephemere

Where are we? In the clouds, towards the end of a red-eye, looking out of the window of our plane—and then, the most primitive of spheres, surely a friendly one, appears and promptly sheds itself into our morning coffee cup.

It seems our handle-less saucer is filled with a dense array of sugar cubes. They flip and toil into a blank Rubik’s Cube—always intricate, always solved—then, a momentary wall of 60s stock photography from seemingly nowhere (an advertisement for the ideal breakfast) precedes the emergence of a smooth, droid-like character. We zoom/enhance into the granular detail. The cascading! The flipping of limbs! His wand divining new shapes that rear and plunge like breaching whales. Intricate, multi-dimensional pendulums clack in his face to keep the time, a metronome that keeps us alert for our lack of caffeine. Seconds pass.

What is our mission exactly? It doesn’t matter. It’s only a moment, or in this case, about 8 minutes of moments neatly stacked into a rhythmic vision. Why do we breath? It doesn’t matter. Concentrate on the film. We are watching some stunning, bespoke three-dimensional renderings. How are they made?

I have no idea how Piotr Kamler, born in 1936, made such an out-of-time masterpiece in 1993—as Groundhog Day lurked around the corner, plastering the walls of cities with its dopey clock poster. Is it partially digital? The specular shine on the text looks notably mathematical, though filtered through film. Still, I like to instead imagine that the author had seen these ‘3D’ graphics and, in an attempt to make remake them—much like cargo cults mimicking western machinery—etched them through ceaseless manic labor.

The droid summons an entire fortress of cubes that ruptures and settles. The sphere moves back out of our line of vision. The skies are clear. I can get on with my day. Though, I would welcome this clockwork each and every morning until I can see it as clearly as the artist did and finally move on.

Spirit Quest

EPFC | December 12th, 2017

guest curator: Lorenzo Gattorna

dedicated to the act of skateboarding and, especially, those eyes behind the lens…

Spirit Quest
The new movie by Colin Read

“A journey through nature, time, and space,” as Read says. Colin has been killin’ it lately and this video is paramount to his practice. Animation meets animorphism. Found footage flows with powerful maneuvers. Photochemical artifacts face fast-moving concrete. Jump cuts and multiple perspectives are palpable, perfectly placed. Split screen and single screen together again. He is phenomenal with fish-eye, and without fail, compliments his surroundings wherever, whenever. Here is a part featuring Vincent Touzery. “Open your eyes,” as the intro goes.

Marvelous Movie Mondays

EPFC | December 5th, 2017

guest curator: Lorenzo Gattorna

December’s Theme: WOOD PUSHERS
dedicated to the act of skateboarding and, especially, those eyes behind the lens.

I have been riding a skateboard for the past twenty years. The challenges and creativity, the calm and chaos coming out now are sick. Approaches to architecture and social spaces continue to shift. The cinematographic process is in flux and f*cking awesome. The camera and concave have been in wedlock for decades, and their intensity and intimacy do not get much play. Here is a chance to revel in the experimental, extraordinary world of wood pushers.

A video by William Strobeck for Supreme/Thrasher

Strobeck abstracts figure and ground, and appreciates the oddities of daily life witnessed while on the deck. His long lens and slow motion tactics defy the longstanding traditions of fisheye and time remapping most associated with skateboard videography. His musical accompaniments also sync to and sway from the complex yet fluid movements documented. I have been so psyched on Fat Bill’s work since Alien Workshop’s Photosynthesis from 2000…

Ghosts Before Breakfast

EPFC | November 28th, 2017

Guest curator: Andy Spletzer
Theme: Experimental Films are Funny

One of the first art movements to embrace film was also one of the funniest, probably because, like with all other art forms, they refused to take it seriously: Dadaism. In 1927 or 1928, Hans Richter created “Ghosts Before Breakfast,” the story (as much as there is one) of time passing, hats flying, tea trays crashing, a bowtie with a mind of its own, and any number of other seemingly disconnected images.

I think it’s the joy of experimentation that I respond to, the sense of fun that is exuded as the Dadaists created and crashed surrealistic images into each other. Last spring for the Seattle International Film Festival I programmed a fun and funny tribute to 100 years of Dadaism called “A DAD” by Austrian filmmaker Robert Cambrinus, and I would have linked to that here if the dang film was online.

However, if there’s one thing that I realized after choosing this month’s theme, it’s that, even though there are funny experimental films out there, the fact of the matter is that there should be so many more! Humor is an attitude, a playful spirit, a smart deconstruction of an existing form, a lightness made from love, not a dismissiveness.

I’m sure there’s plenty of funny experimental films out there that I have yet to see, and lots of my favorite filmmakers (Guy Maddin, Peter Tscherkassky, Kelly Sears, Lewis Klahr, George Kuchar, Arthur Lipsett, Craig Baldwin, so many others) use humor in films that aren’t really comedies. So if you, PERSON WHO IS READING THIS, if you are a filmmaker, I just want to remind you don’t have to take your art so damn seriously all the time!



EPFC | November 14th, 2017

Guest curator: Andy Spletzer
Theme: Experimental Films are Funny

Some things (jokes, movies, etc.) are funny because they’re true. Such is the case with Matt McCormick’s THE SUBCONSCIOUS ART OF GRAFITTI REMOVAL (2001), a tongue-in-cheek tribute to art documentaries. The movie compares the squares of paint that city workers use to cover up graffiti to the work of modern artists like Rothko. Through Miranda July’s narration, McCormick posits that graffiti removal is a subconscious art, “a product of artistic merit that was created without conscious artistic intentions.” Not only that, but this is an important art movement. It’s a persuasive argument.

The reason the short documentary works so well is that its ultimate message is that art is everywhere, that human beings create subconscious art on a daily basis, and all you have to do is open your eyes to see it.

Matt McCormick is a Portland, Oregon-based filmmaker whose work has consistently balanced sincerity with a sense of humor. His latest feature-length documentary BUZZ ONE FOUR recently played this venue.

I encourage you to watch this doc and then check out his back catalog.