traveling thru with eyes closed tight
(map #2 – january 03 thru january 06)
35mm (1.37), colour, sound, 4 mins, 2006
made with the support of lift & the
new directions in cinema series 2006
a yellow field meets clear blue
a mist of water over bright green grass.
a well worn sidewalk in grey and white.
a lone black crow on a sandy beach.
a lowering sun fades into the sea.
Is it a perceptual documentary? Not a faithful record of what was
right there in front of her but instead a record of the mechanisms
of memory itself. The sound of a car issues and there is darkness,
perfect and unrelieved. On the soundtrack there are Spanish voices
and music from across a square. People are meeting, and then, without
warning, nearly two minutes into the movie the pictures arrive, like
a wayward uncle come too late for an important lunch, breathless
and speaking about everything at once, as if to make up for the hour.
The first image shows the wing of a plane, and then a backlit street
with a small grey car pulling out, a tree, a telephone pole, a field
of flowers, tram wires, further views of the country. Each lasts
only a few frames, one erases the next in a blur of moments which
will not be stilled and calmed and remembered. They exist in a democracy
of time, these landscapes and cityscapes, and so become indistinguishable.
A democracy of forgetting. There are views of the water, the beach,
cars, again the plane (is it the same plane? Or is this another trip?
Are we moving forward (is there progression?) or are we caught in
an infernal cycle of repetitions? Tropical plants, alleyways, and
then it’s winter, this has to be Toronto, the city we share
(are cities shared, like meals?) and then it’s over. Though
the sound runs on for another minute or so in the darkness, the darkness
again. She’s been away but she’s returned, home again,
managing to hold onto nothing, Or perhaps the memory of memory… wasn’t
there something about? A glass half full and half empty. Twice upon
a time. [Mike Hoolboom, 2007]