In what is both a culmination and a departure, Sharon Lockhart’s EVENTIDE (2022), is a meditative, non-narrative long shot that uses choreography to explore landscape, communal relations, solitary searching, psychic endurance, and the play of light moving through darkness. Locating drama in the real-time shift of evening fading into night, this is perhaps Lockhart’s most optical and painterly moving image to date, composing figures, scenography, and soundscape into allegory and abstraction. The artist’s investment in forms of dance in previous works is felt here, too, as the initial appearance of an individual slowly builds into a culture and a gathering. An astounding number of stars emerge bright in the dusk sky, blazing as a distant corollary to the growing constellation of roving bodies scanning the rock-strewn beach by cell phone light for what we do not know. The streaking of shooting stars and gliding of satellites throws the otherwise measured pace into relief. Shot on the Swedish coast with a close-knit group of friends Lockhart has been involved with for years, EVENTIDE is concerned with the future and what it might hold.

2022

2014

Sharon Lockhart

Lynne films her daughter Maya in 16mm black and white film, at ages 6, 16 and 24. At each iteration, Maya runs around her mother, in a circle – clockwise - as if propelling herself in the same direction as time, forward. Conscious of the strange simultaneous temporal landscape that only film can convey, we watch Maya in motion at each distinct age. Museum of the Moving Image Lynne Sachs Retrospective; Onion City Film Festival; Northwest Film Forum; Mill Valley Film Festival; Revolutions Per Minute Film Festival; Exground Film Fest Wiesbaden, Germany; Cork Film Festival, Ireland.

2021

Lynne Sachs

My daughter’s name is Maya. I’ve been told that the word maya means illusion in Hindu philosophy. As I watch her growing up, spinning like a top around me, I realize that her childhood is not something I can grasp but rather - like the wind - something I feel tenderly brushing across my cheek.

2001

Lynne Sachs

In the summer of 2019, his family's trip was the last one with their father, husband, or father-in-law. My father-in-law passed away one day in January 2021 when it was snowing. I looked up photos and videos of him with my wife and fixed my gaze at the record of the trip two years ago. His body was with us, but often his mind was beyond our reach. What was he looking at, how was his time going?

2021

Jeon Junehyuck

Filmed in one shot at a sacred site on the Upper Suriname River, the minor secrets of a Saramaccan animist everyday are revealed as time itself is undone.

2011

Ben Russell

“(with the brouillard series), walking trajectories from Larose’s parents’ house into a lake nearby are superimposed onto a 1000-foot strip of 35 mm color reversal film. With the aperture just slightly opened, only the brightest spots of each walk leave a trace on the strip. On the screen we see a landscape of pulsating light that is both concrete and abstract at the same time, drawing attention to the material and chemical processes of the medium as well as the visceral qualities these can produce. A phantom ride where the phantom seems to be both the camera that registers as well as the world it records.”
-Alejandro Bachmann

Alexandre Larose

The work(ing device) that resembles a clock does not allow the fixed time to be fixed, in order to perceive time sense of the machine. It is not a sort of clock that assumes and measures the absolute time, but the image itself which arises from the power operating under the film and the relationship with the power. The image, which is the reality itself, cannot be divided by a membrane of celluloid. Which exists as being real oscillates between the area of the virtual and the realm under the physically acting film.

2022

Wang Jieun

“My daughterʼs name is Maya. Iʼve been told that the word maya means illusion in Hindu philosophy. In 2001, I photographed her at six years old, spinning like a top around me. Even then, I realized that her childhood was not something I could grasp but rather – like the wind – something I could feel tenderly brushing across my cheek. Eleven years later, I pull out my 16mm Bolex camera once again and she allows me to film her – different but somehow the same.”

2012

Lynne Sachs

Directorʼs Choice Award – Black Maria Film Festival.

Saint Petersburg School of New Cinema

Kinora Film Foundation