"Untitled" (Perfect Lovers)

Felix Gonzalez-Torres
These two identical, adjacent, battery-operated clocks were initially set to the same time, but, with time, they will inevitably fall out of sync.

Proposed sites for recording

Campanile di San Marco

London Eye

Edinburgh Castle

3D No glasses

Cheers Faith

Isometric II

Isometric

Wraparound Vision

The compound eye of the Antarctic Krill

Euphausia superba

Gold

Most Blue Skies - Lise Autogena

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uQQcCHvP_Eo&feature=player_embedded

Sky Blue

Exchange Tower

Exchange Tower - 19 Canning Street, Edinburgh's tallest commercial building. Film recorded from a window on the top floor.

Arthur's Seat

Technical Difficulties

Horizonless

And the sea, too, is flat. I know it sounds ridiculous to say this since all seas are flat – but this sea's flat in the most amzaing way. Picture a frozen bay extending in a pure white out from the quayside. Picture skaters endlessly circling, pirouetting, gliding around it, passing the odd ship held firmly in position by the ice. And don't picture some chocolate-box Bruegel vignette: this frozen landscape isn't social like his – it's otherworldly, shapes and movement all becoming abstract as they open out to white infinity. The land segues seamlessly into the sea, the sea into the sky, which is white too. I've just spent the pest part of two hours sitting on a bench looking for a hinge: a line to the horizon, some kind of limit. But I couldn't find one. There's just space, and then it kind of disappears into itself. I keep thinking of the ellipse into which Maňásek's saint gravitated – anit-gravitated rather.

I'm in my hotel, getting ready to go out again. I'm hooked on this horizonless horizon. When I was staring at it earlier, beside the harbour walls, a group of young men had etched out, by scraping hockey sticks against the ice, a large rectangle, twenty by ten metres, and then subdivided the rectangle into half blocks and semicircles, reclaiming from the tabula rasa of ice a hockey courts across whose surface their sticks fires a round puck towards goals that had no nets. I watched them for a while, then left my bench, stepped down onto the frozen bay an walked a little way out. The skaters' blades had inscribed coruscating gyres, spirals and intersecting circles on the ice: concentric, eccentric, irregular, you name it. As I walked out further, slipping a little but soon finding my feet, the markings grew less frequent. Still no hinge. How far out do you have to go to find one? I'm obsessed by this question. Basic visual laws require there to be some kind of edge, somewhere. I want to go and find out where it is. I've come back to my room to fetch a warm jumper – and of course to write you this letter which I'll post from a cute little mailbox on the quayside. Then it's out again into the white...

Men in Space

Tom McCarthy

Coincide

concurrent

simultaneous

coincide

Easyjet 3D

Grace Weir

2000 Video, 9‘40“

Forgetting (the vanishing point) is a long take of a cloud dissipating in real time. It lasts 9 minutes and 40 seconds.

The work references a demonstration by Brunelleschi in the 15th century. Brunelleschi, while devising an apparatus for viewing his painting of an image of the baptistry in Florence, did not render the sky above the baptistry in paint, rather it was executed in silver leaf so that, acting as a mirror, it would capture the reflections of the real sky passing over the heads of the viewers staring into the optical box of his perspectival construction.

The specificity of cinema is its unfolding of the image in the real time that becomes the lived time of the work. In an intimation of the real, the cinematic image addresses the time of the in-between in which something is being actualized, the time it takes for something to happen.

“Time becomes a subject because it is the folding of the outside and, as such, forces every present into forgetting, but preserves the whole of the past within memory: forgetting is the impossibility of return, and memory is the necessity of renewal.” Gilles Deleuze, Foucault.

2001, 16mm film, 5’

Two films, 5 minutes each, shown simultaneously as two projections on opposite walls.

Two simultaneous films each 5 minutes, shown as two projections on opposite walls.
Around now consists of two films playing simultaneously, each 5 minutes long. One film is a single take shot while flying 360˚ in a perfect circle around a cloud. The other film is the same circle but filmed facing the opposite direction, out into the surrounding skyscape while flying around the cloud. The two films are projected simultaneously on opposite walls of the gallery. In projecting simultaneously the two viewpoints, the installation 'Around now' explores the act being carried out. The gallery becomes the space in-between, the ‘cut out’ circle of the path taken, which we inhabit as viewers. As opposed to the end points (A and B) the middle or journey is prioritized.
In the unfolding of an event, there is a time of actualisation, of occurrence. The specificity of cinema is its disclosure of the image in the real time that becomes the lived time of the viewer, the mapping of one time onto another. Cinema carries out a suspension of the world and ‘it is the suspension of the world rather than movement, which gives the visible to thought, not as its object, but as an act which is constantly arising and being revealed in thought’.

http://www.graceweir.com/

Trevor Paglen

http://www.paglen.com/

All fascinating stuff. Currently part of 'Free', an exhibition about the internet and information at the New Museum New York.

More treats from MoMA

Loie Fuller

Paul Sharits - Ray Gun Virus

Alex Prager at MoMA

Watch Despair here.

Part of New Photography 2010 at MoMA

New York