Six emergent filmmakers present their short, experimental works.
Connor Warnick / The Colorless Creek / 2018
The Colorless Creek depicts Suza, 53, in a therapy session reflecting upon the loss of her sight. As she speaks, we see fragmented flashbacks which tell another story on their own. Eventually, the memories, timelines, and visions each wash away into the infinite flow of the creek.
Liam Wrubel / ships riding on the seine at rouen / 2018
ships riding on the seine at rouen is a meditation on two characters and the twilight of their tenuous, romantic relationship; but this film is no more about the story than the images that tell it, or refuse to. Sometimes the characters and their narrative disappear, and in their place are magnified studies of objects, space, and found images.
Emily Greenberg / Worm Scene / 2018
Worm Scene is an elliptical musical. Lovers engage in dialogue with objects of emotional significance—a feather duster, a couch, a can of worms. These seemingly benign objects try to explain themselves. Sounds made on organ and Serge synthesizer.
Sabrina Kissack / Sweet Embrace / 2018
Sweet Embrace is an attempt to paint the remnants of spectacle in a slow moving and inconclusive world. The characters exist in a state of obsessive observation, edging towards what they are drawn to but never taking it. The event does not occur on screen, but there is a sense that it has already happened. Perhaps it has happened in the dimension we can see and perhaps in another that has overflowed into the the world of the film. The glitter, the jewels, the hair, the blood, the paint, the glove all serve as markers of the event. They are not meant to be symbols, but rather objects presented to create their own outline of a ghostly body and time. They are what has been left over to observe. The camera moves slowly in search of violence and conclusion, yet it only lands on fragments. It finds pieces of the bodies and what may have fallen out of them.
Mariana Sánchez Bueno / To My Mother / 2018
This film tells the fragmented story of a missing person through the already broken memories of those who recall the uncertain specificities of disappearance. In 1986, forced disappearances weren’t unusual in Colombia. Some were product of the guerrillas, some of the paramilitary, some the military, and some of them simply a consequence of an unapologetically violent situation that left no room for suspicion. In the decades in which violence became the norm, many disappearances were left unanswered and unquestioned. In June of 2017 I set out on the journey of uncovering the story that has haunted my family since 1986, when my grandfather went missing. As I began to look for traces of my grandfather’s story in the landscape, in the city’s architecture and in my family’s words, I realized that I naively believed I could be the one to resolve the past.
Conor Williams / WATER’S EDGE / 2018
WATER'S EDGE is a diary film of sorts that I began to form after my childhood friend Thomas O'Rourke died by suicide in 2016. This event shocked me and forced me to examine my own brushes with suicidal intent. About a year after Thomas' death, my aunt was diagnosed with brain cancer. We were not very certain just how much time she would have left. This film shows myself and other people in close proximity to me quite nakedly, at a time where everything seemed weighed down by loss and uncertainty, managing somehow to reach out and accept life's light.