Snow falls. Eyes gaze out the window, crossing with the moon, while another eye, capturing that gaze, trembles. At the crossroads of glances that can never meet, the film moves on its own. The camera faces the window, and the projector casts its light onto the screen. Between misaligned eyes and...
While images are forgotten and returned to memory in a spinning motility, the empty point of view returns to the viewer and repetition returns to the uninterpretable dimension.
This is a white screen. The projector turns the color wheel to release the color. Depending on the shutter speed, a white-hidden spectrum is exposed on the screen. Like Shepherd's notes, which rise endlessly, the white screen continues to rise. The color wheel keeps spinning and the screen is still...
The eye contacts through the membrane. When the direction of the gaze lies at the boundary of neutrality, the act of seeing develops itself. The time between moving somewhere in the repetition of the background and rising, the image operates on its boundary.
The projector extends itself beyond a mechanical device: it transforms into a living entity, reanimating the collective memories of its audience. Through Kwon’s live manipulation of flickers and intervals, the cinematic apparatus gains autonomy, continuously looping and coming alive. Using a...
The shape of the projector's light as it passes through the shutter speed control. There is an expanding space between the light that is absorbed and the light that is sucked in. The action of seeing occurs at that boundary.
Audiovisual performance artist and filmmaker Kwon HeeSue creates an expanded cinema work that explores the maximum possibilities of film projection from minimal conditions. By turning the projector light toward the lens and altering the shutter speed, she plays with light, shapes and colours,...
