Film on Film Reference

Film on Film / There are no moving images in cinema. The mind is the great animator of the seemingly invisible stream of still frames that outwit and mystify human perception. With the advent of cinema at the end of the 19th. Century, photography was redefined through the simple mechanics of the rate and method of display of the image in time. Still photography and cinema soon drifted apart and offered very different expressions of our cultural and social realities. The work here is a conscious effort to rejoin them at a point of their declining materiality and transformation into an electronic medium. In examining various film archives and mining my own collection of films for discrete moments of narrative and diagnostic value, I have used the still image to dislodge and reconfigure selected fragments of film generally obscured, buried or so insignificant as to be invisible within the flow of the cinematic source from which they are taken. Events as mundane as a woman blinking or as unsettling as a man caught on film leaping to his death all conspire to provoke our notion of film, its structure and properties, while triggering our memory of cinematic archetypes and vivid personal experiences in viewing films of all kinds, from safety films in elementary school to familiar classic feature productions in a movie theater. The maze of detail offered by all optically realized images seems to feed an insatiable curiosity about the expressive surface of the way things appear on film (still or movie.) In looking more quantitatively rather than subjectively at the films, the element of time emerges as the fulcrum of many of the pictures and represents a very tangible and objective means of measuring certain fugitive moments located within the intentions of the filmmaker. Although in photography the connection between image and machine is well understood, we’ve come to appreciate the overlay of scientific precision and technological objectivity with caution as historian Donna Haraway has suggested “Our machines are disturbingly lively and we ourselves frighteningly inert.”