“At 7:45 p.m. I was shot in the left arm by a friend.”

– Chris Burden

A movie made or set in Canada for Victoria Day (Canada)

“sroena evor ssiapon”

– Pierre Trudeau

Joyce Wieland's heart and camera travel from the Canadian east coast all the way to the west. Cars drive by, suns set, suns rise, and Pierre Trudeau's motto rings on in 537 permutations.

A scratch video from 1984 on the date George Orwell died (1950). Date of production is either 84 or 85.

Midnight: it's Hogmanay in Scotland.

“There's no clue to the identify of Franz Kindler; except one little thing. He has a hobby that almost amounts to a mania: clocks.”

– Mr. Wilson

The Clock takes place over – and lasts – 24 hours, with each moment either being shown in a film still or mentioned by characters during a scene. In total, there are over 12 000 scenes edited into Marclay's tour de force.

Christmas lights for National Christmas Lights Day (USA)

 

It took experimental filmmaker Marie Menken three years to shoot Lights. From midnight until 1 AM, she filmed New York's window displays during the holiday season, using her camera, motion, colour, and available light sources as her paintbrush.

“There is no why for my making films. I just liked the twitters of the machine, and since it was an extension of painting for me, I tried it and loved it. In painting I never liked the staid and static, always looked for what would change the source of light and stance, using glitters, glass beads, luminous paint, so the camera was a natural for me to try—but how expensive!”

– Marie Menken, c. 1966

Filming at night helped to avoid unwanted interruptions of people and cars, but turned out to be problematic for her hand-cranked #Bolex, which kept stalling in NYC's icy winter nights.

Within the boundaries of Sharon Lockhart's static camera, girls from Goshogaoka junior high school practice basketball. In six uninterrupted 10 minute scenes, we see them warm up and train several typical moves, shots, and blocks. With the camera set in one position, some of the action happens off-screen, resulting in unrehearsed synchronised choreography.

“All is falling”

– Bas Jan Ader

American artist Matthew Barney dreamt of playing #AmericanFootball at Yale. His body, too short for the demanding game, became his personal battleground by way of torturous prosthetics and art performances testing its endurance. A fascination with biology – he considered medicine as his profession – is a recurring motif in his art. This will teach us that stage 1 of the cremaster cycle is the moment when the cremaster muscle – the muscle in the biological male responsible for the ascent and descent of the testes – is at its most ascended or undifferentiated state.

 

Cremaster 1, the second of the five part Cremaster cycle (1994—2002), is set at the Bronco Stadium in #Boise, #Idaho, Barney's hometown. Due of his personal connection with the place he was able to secure the stadium for a lush musical revue, complete with chorus girls and Goodyear #blimps. Instead of cheerleading yells and the crushing noise of chronic traumatic encephalopathy, we find ourselves quietly poised in an airship high above the field.

 

In each airship there is an ethereal woman (both played by gender-ambigious Marti Domination), arranging and rearranging grapes in intricate shapes, illustrating the development of the foetus from non-gendered to male. Below on luminous blue AstroTurf, the chorus line follows the same patterns.

 

Cremaster 1 is arguably the most accessible instalment of the cycle. Everyone, even if not familiar with the name Busby Berkeley, recognises the kaleidoscopic choreography. And those who have never watched a game of football in their lives, may pick up the subliminal patterns created by men dressed to overemphasise their already excessive masculinity.

Synchronous to the screening of a film that wasn't, Derek Jarman's Blue was broadcast on radio and television. Those who tuned into the radio could request a special card printed in that most spectral of colours, International Klein Blue, a blue that according to its creator Yves Klein, has “a quality close to pure space” and “immaterial values beyond what can be seen or touched”.

“You say to the boy 'Open your eyes'. When he opens his eyes and sees the light, you make him cry out, saying 'Oh, Blue, come forth! Oh, Blue, arise! Oh, Blue, ascend! Oh, Blue, come in!'.”

– Nigel Terry

Submerged in #blue, seeing through what was left of Jarman's eyes, we live through the artist's life, and love, and loss. When you leave the theatre, put down that card, you're temporarily blinded by the physiological afterimage of a devastating disease. What remains is the voice of a filmmaker who lost his sight.