Distribution

An introspective documentary that connects the cinema space and the ritual of watching with memories and dreams.

The people are in turmoil. The ground from which their enchanted garden grows trembles. Between bushes and trees, beds and wells, everyone here has lost their way on their own. Their eyes look for paths, their hands try to remember. Sometimes they catch sight of something. Sometimes they listen attentively. They hear a whispering, a soft promise. They follow the petals downriver. Onwards.

Sky over Swiss mountain peaks, wood, clouds, sneakers swirling, falling, bobbing and weaving through the air, solo, in groups, in flames, with flowers, cushions, gold coins, weightless supercars; someone is constantly racing on a bike down a high-rise towards the urban abyss… light, floating and dramatic at the same time, like Giger’s composition, which the film images do not want to dominate but to merge with.

In a not-too-distant future ravaged by climate crisis, a team of scientists analyse archival footage of farmers from the past in an attempt to understand their connection to the land.

While they are working together in the garden, two sisters set off on a disturbing journey into their childhood to track down continuities of National Socialist education ideals. How much was their upbringing influenced by the Nazi manual The German Mother and Her First Child, which continued to be published until 1987 with a changed title?

A tour of a universe shaped with the voice, where you go up and down, where you should interact without saying everything.

In Dream In Dream, a flowing, surreal world of dreams unfolds. Places and figures from colourful snippets of collages constantly reassemble themselves. The main figure in the video tumbles from scene to scene in Alice in Wonderland fashion. She meets patchwork beings such as a mirror with legs; she wanders through a wood and traverses an apple. A dream in a dream in a dream.

History revolves around the Alexander Column on Palace Square, as if it were a cursed axis of time.

A marvellous biopic about the most successful living painter. The AI hybrid film explores painting caught between creativity, capital and spirituality in an era of artificial reproducibility. Gerhard’s revolutionary squeegee technique inspires artists worldwide, is adapted and marketed, while the mythos of the ‘genius’ is written into a uncontrollable generic chain of creation.

This video combines the Dadaistic art of Jonathan Meese with DJ Hell’s musical homage to Kraftwerk. It shows how the protagonists are cleansed by the theft of the biggest commercialisation of art. Only through machines are we finally completely cleansed – until the ultimate cleansing during the transformation into stardust.

Slowly, the bow of a ship pushes its way into the picture, filmed from above, from the bridge onto the ship deck. A variation of tuba sounds, Groombridge 34, played and composed by Carl Ludwig Hübsch, accompanies the continuously changing deck situation of a tanker, with its pipes, painted surfaces and further details, up to the fading away of the swirls caused at the stern by the ship’s propeller in the Rhine.

Crawlies is a soliloquy based on voice recordings of my schizophrenic uncle – an audiovisual exercise of mise en abyme that weaves a sensorial patchwork of memories from my childhood.

The memory of a day at work, capitalism, the snake biting its own tail. It was a dream. We get together among migrant friends, revelry and laughter. She tells us another memory; it could also be a dream. People from different places talking to each other at the train station, various stories flowing like the river.

Using found footage from a CCTV recording, combined with a composed collage, Duoni creates an audiovisual dialogue that intertwines recordings of various emergency calls with the art song Lorelei. The video explores the persistent issue of gender inequality throughout the centuries.

K-BOB STAR turns a Korean grandmother into a fictive K-pop icon. The film combines pop culture with personal stories and interrogates concepts of age, work and femininity. The film uses performance and re-texted and reinterpreted songs to crack stereotypes and opens new perspectives on generations and identity.

The voices we hear are completely AI-generated – a deliberate device through which machines seemingly offer themselves to take over ruling the world. To make this current discourse less heavy and to create contrasts for further thought, we have given the AI-music in the video a counterbalance in the form of a handmade, analogue world of robots. Here, we found it important to cite popular future visions from the past: are we moving towards a utopia or a dystopia?

Two childhood best friends reconnect in Phnom Penh after years of separation. Chay, a Phnom Penh resident, helps Lyer, who comes from the countryside, get a job as a projectionist in the city. A film screening prompts them to wonder about their future together.

The song and, above all, the accompanying video were made in 2024 during Jeremias Heppeler’s residency in Tatsuno, Japan. There is much vacant housing in the small town; many life histories have left only traces. This circumstance, along with the marked belief in (nature) spirits, is addressed in looking @ ghosts by means of abstract dance, animation and masks.

Mkoum is about a community that is constituted by celebrating and dancing together, paying respect to those who have gone and preparing a new ground for those arriving. It is a community that has to be recreated at every moment. There are no secrets, but many things have to be learned.

1.5 years after fleeing Russia for being queer, filmmaker Maksim Avdeev breaks the silence with their nationalist father over the phone. Through this distant dialogue, Maksim embarks on a soul-searching journey to bridge the gap between them, navigating the complexities of love, acceptance and the relentless pull of conflicting truths.

‘The world will little note, nor long remember, what we say here.’ (A.L., 1863)

 At the Lincoln Memorial in 1939, a second unit filmed scenes for the Hollywood classic Mr. Smith Goes to Washington with a double and extras. The succession of the rejected sequence shots subverts the usual film narration: plot is not advanced here. The neo-classical architecture is simply the setting for a recurrent ritual. The attendance of the unprepossessing protagonist dissipates between the columns in the hall. Often, he remains in front of the monument of Lincoln as if he himself were turning into a statue.

A fairy tale tells of twins: one believes in property, the other rejects it. Their conflicts lead to their dividing the world in two and arguing so violently that one of them is torn into a hundred pieces. Documentary footage weaves the fantastic story with the present and creates a bridge to today.

Prayer for Taiwan is an audiovisual composition. The melody is based on Bądarzewska’s Maidens Prayer, which is used in Taiwan as a signature tune for rubbish collection. As a result of the reappraisal of the history of the military dictatorship under Chiang Kai-shek, many of his sculptures have been removed from public spaces and reinstalled at Cihu Memorial Sculpture Park.

A music video about people with different realities, and pigeons.

A film student shoots his first short films on Super 8, while lamenting not having a single moving image of his parents.

When we are ill, all, all we want is not to be ill anymore. The filmmaker sees a swan on the duck pond and dreams with long Covid of the realm of the healthy. An essay about enchanted invalids and dreaming birds.

There was a plan to build a cinema in the cliffs – it might have been here. Sinkhole is a poetic response to the archive and oral histories of Tyneside Cinema, an independent cinema in north-east England which has faced many waves of crisis. Through imagined vignettes, Sinkhole meditates on grand visions and being near to collapse.

Uprooted and regrowing; winding through the veins of a building. A cleaner and a student, two itinerant women, met. She crossed, she crossed, they crossed... ‘But life continues,’ she said.

Philipp Gufler’s short film is made up of a performance by the artist and film scenes of archive material relating to queer and transgender content. Divided across two sides, in the 19-minute piece we witness explicit, low-threshold expressions of sexuality that breaks with the norm.

‘I embrace strangers, I lose my friends.’ Dependent, but always wary of thousands of ‘friends’. A back-and-forth of closeness and distance, division and multiplication, uniformity and difference. The ego between humanity and troll army, algorithmic propaganda and community, as a commodity in the escalation machine of the internet.

The overall theme of Vernacular Dreamscapes is nature as a zone of the unknown and uncanny, an alien and alienated territory, a deserted zone. This is counteracted by the appearance of dreamlike and absurd phenomena and inscrutable cavernous architecture. A stringent plot is never revealed; reality remains vague. The zone is inhabited by places, dreams, voices, supernatural creatures and artifacts.

The traces of three characters, Maria, Daniel and Jackpot, can be read as an experimental coming-of-age film. The stories merge autobiographical and fictional elements into a dense poetic space, showing the interactions between personality development, family influences and social constraints. What effects do intergenerational traumas have on the psyche, on desire, on the construction of our identity?

20-20 is a compilation of 5 short, video-journal reflections on 2020. Each was created as Karen Trask’s contribution to an exquisite corpse video project called 2GatherApart. Organized by a group of Montreal artists, it was a way to stay connected and creative during the pandemic. 20-20 is a personal and humorous look at an unusual year.

At Aunty Gladys’s funeral, Archer Pechawis heard a tap on the window – it was a bear named Jesus... an allegory for religious interference, with an aching yet humorous look at estrangement and mourning for the loss of someone still living.

The Ladies eat, the gentlemen beat.

There is a good girl. And there is the Internet. This might seem weird but this might be real.

Using an experimental approach to green screen, Maxim Franks has created a kaleidoscopic film for the song Almost Puppet. Together, the video and song explore the themes of identity and self through the perspective of the cat puppet Puppet Ginger, with particular emphasis on the fragility of consciousness.

An old orchard through the seasons, organ music, a 17th-century classification of plants, porcelains with floral motifs: Arbor, Cremium, Frutex, Herba attempts to convey, through the use of different representations, a way of inheriting a landscape.

The people are in turmoil. The ground from which their enchanted garden grows trembles. Between bushes and trees, beds and wells, everyone here has lost their way on their own. Their eyes look for paths, their hands try to remember. Sometimes they catch sight of something. Sometimes they listen attentively. They hear a whispering, a soft promise. They follow the petals downriver. Onwards.

Park. Apartment. 6-core processor. My avatar learns a backflip.

“Blacktivist” reflects on police brutality, selective enforcement, and the right of self-defence. Scenes reminiscent of the aesthetics of conventional music videos come together with found footage, documentary shots and 3-D animations.

A woman hurls lightning bolts; ghosts gather about her and want to bring her under control. She fights her way through until the ghosts fall silent.

Tired of being despised by his colleagues – a bunch of lowbrow office machos – Mr. Lorenz opposes them and designs his own evening adventures. Free from all constraints and insults, he devotes himself to the charm of the night, of alcohol and karaoke bars.

When the mayor of a little village decides to take in forty refugees, a wave of dislike and hatred befalls him and his family. The short animation tells of a fight against fear and the courage to stand up for your convictions despite the threat of one’s life.

People tend to hurt each other, leaving long-lasting wounds, and this is no different amongst families.

It is not clear what is up and what is down. Gravity is suspended. Only the moment provides orientation – in brief, we are left clueless.

The small cruelties of a subliminal fog roll in. A pandemic thwarts intimacy. Perched from their little planets, this cast of wildly colourful creatures question their futures and navigate the longing for connection. This is the fifth collaboration between Jessie Mott and Steve Reinke.

‘Copyshop’ accompanies Berlin-Köpenick rapper Romano on a voyage of discovery to Hong Kong, where he reviews his past as a copy shop employee in Berlin. It’s all about megacities, stereotypes, creative spaces, rap music, Romano’s copy shop biography and the copy of the copy of the copy ...

The song by Tall Juan dedicated to all those people who live in the street. Made with acrylics, pastels and pencil on paper.

‘Issues / often have two sides / You can turn them to suit yourself / War is suddenly called peace / shells Leonids / My sofa has a problem with me //’ A rubber slipper, sickle and hammer, mosquito spray, a foot mat with the Little Mole on it, an egg cutter and several other things while away the time on planet Earth at five past 12. With excerpts from Koyaanisqatsi, Zabriskie Point, Terminator and other found footage.

An ageing rock star, his own zenith in the rear-view mirror, living isolated between Louis II and Louis XIV, less sun, more sunset. Rocko Schamoni as Rocko Schikano and the question of what might have been.

That’s the toilet, right? And what should be done here? This toilet is already fully designed. What else am I supposed to do here? Be an fine design or what? So what comes out of this toilet? It's a toilet bowl. Three different odours come out of it or do they go in? Three components.

The possibility of (re)constructing human history now no longer takes place in archives alone; it has instead moved into the realm of rubbish. But what if, under modern concepts of an efficient recycling system, there is no more waste? Then the past of our present will no longer be detectable in the future. In order to survive, rubbish must therefore seek alternative places of refuge...

Petra wants to relax, Martha is anxious and Maria simply doesn’t get up. The waves rush, and the lapdog gives in. It is hot and the wound is gaping.

In a silver catsuit and with a cigarette Sandra Hüller plays a superhero, whose glorious days seem to be long gone. The personal song deals with love, missed chances and finally letting go. These topics also appear in the video, with communication (or its absence) playing a central role, too.

Doors of Reception is a collage of door sounds from various science fiction films, creating an abstract sound painting of opening and closing colour fields. A recurring theme of the genre is passing through doors and being locked in or locked out on one side or the other, a condition that became the painful reality for many in times of the pandemic.

This is my second VR project, which combines imagery, dance and installation to create a kind of dialogue. It is an attempt at a directorial approach that falls somewhere between film and theatre. All of the scenes are taken from the paintings of Edward Hopper. This version is specifically designed for theatrical release.

In the nest of the sun, Xolotl, Huitzilin and Xochitl meet to recover the dance of radiation, whose colourful heat stirs the new fire of their cosmic dance.

Disguised as a straightforward promotional music video, an iconic 1970 performance by a messianic Elvis Presley is transformed by editing and music into a dark meditation on addiction and the hollowness of celebrity culture.

Grandma grows a pair of wings and transforms into a human bird. She steps out of the darkness of a tunnel into a desolate, misty landscape. She is above clouds, floating into where birds soar, above ground as bodies in levitation. The video tickles our senses and emotions towards losing our sense of gravity.

The electromagnetic landscapes of Sao Paulo and Rio de Janeiro go on an irregular basis and it is possible to see what’s outside the frame. This image hacking is connected to the poem “E se Jesus fosse preto” (And If Jesus Were Black) by the Brazilian poet Bruno Negrão, who proposes a new way to imagine some of our ingrained beliefs.

An Afghan hound, oscillating between ancient breed and modern day Instagram model, poses in all its mysterious glory.

The people in the video 'FragMANts' worship their consumer goods like religious cult objects. The religion venerated here is that of capitalism, which reveals itself to be superficial and meaningless. The believers of this religion are only uprooted fragments of themselves.

Frau Michels is on the way to her physiotherapist, who makes the heart of this married woman flutter. But there is no trace of him.

An image of the history of the universe, from the perspective of a solitary human being living in a single room apartment, passing a birthday while going through slide photos of movies.

Sometimes it is a smell | A fibre a ray of light | A beech leaf that falls at your feet | A raindrop on your shoe | An eyelash on your cheek | Everyday snapshots | You recall details | Five ten twenty years later | The shooting stars of what is past | In the disused tunnel of the conscious |

The lyrics illuminate the juxtaposition between Europe’s closed-door immigration policies and the free global movement of consumer items. Visually, we are invited into the world of the successful elite where every key position is occupied by – supposedly – immigrants.

‘The older I am, the smaller the pixels become. It attracts me, but why? I take off, I fly.’

Junkerhaus is shot in the residence of Karl Junker (1850 -1912) who dedicated his life to building his house in Lemgo, Germany. Reflections, projections and changes in light form abstract shapes which animate surfaces and structures, producing a psychological portrait that offers a new appreciation of Junker’s architecture as a mystical and visionary experience.

Upright video of a mobile phone that is filming a band and turning it into art.

Two lovers explore a patterned jungle world and meet some animal friends along the way.

Four friends sit in the Platz der Kulturen square in Cologne’s Finkenberg district, looking for the right words and punctuation for a text message that is never to be sent.

The camera moves in on a disturbingly normal home, closer and closer; the door opens as if by magic, and the camera flies through a maze of repetitive rooms. The start becomes the ending and the ending becomes the start.

I always make choices and take action. But sometimes, my heart and body are drawn to something before thinking in the head. Then I change my shape and reach an unknown place. I can’t control where I go.

Despite its fierce winds and dangerous waters, the Strait of Gibraltar has increasingly become the route of choice for migrants using Morocco as a gateway to Europe, making the mouth of the Mediterranean Basin into a tragic site of hope and death.

Since 2017 the two giant panda bears Meng Meng and Jiao Qing have been
hired out to the Berlin Zoo from China. Unfortunately for the Zoo, this
profit seeking attraction did not work  – in fact, it
worked backwards. Meng Meng, the female panda will only walk backwards.
Kerstin Honeit’s video aligns Meng Meng’s protest with other
performances of protesting bodies using movement in public space to
address grievances

Prayer for Taiwan is an audiovisual composition. The melody is based on Bądarzewska’s Maidens Prayer, which is used in Taiwan as a signature tune for rubbish collection. As a result of the reappraisal of the history of the military dictatorship under Chiang Kai-shek, many of his sculptures have been removed from public spaces and reinstalled at Cihu Memorial Sculpture Park.

While non-binary representations are rare, Lou talks about their relationship to gender, clothes, and other markers.

A man walks through the forest and tries to find berries. Instead, he finds an empty French dressing bottle. A genie comes out of the bottle and grants the man three wishes. The man uses the wishes traditionally but constantly resorts to bad language which the genie does not approve of. So the man is going to learn a lesson.

When we are ill, all, all we want is not to be ill anymore. The filmmaker sees a swan on the duck pond and dreams with long Covid of the realm of the healthy. An essay about enchanted invalids and dreaming birds.

Girardet's visual transfer of Second Chance Man, "a song about risk" (Stuart Staples), is part of The Waiting Room Film Project, a track by track interpretation of Tindersticks' latest album by various directors.

‘Sento’ is a Japanese public bath. This particular public bath features fascinating details such as a wall-size print of  Mount Fuji, pop yellow plastic washbowls, asymmetrical mirrors and other things fusing in a dance.

Behind the term ‘sensitive content’, behind this symbol of the crossed-out eyes, in this Deep Blur, two real eyes have been erased by the violence in the Middle East.

In 2021, hundreds of thousands of people took over the streets in Brazil, in the midst of a pandemic, to protest against the Bolsonaro government. Inspired by Joyce Wieland’s 1973 film of the same name, Solidarity portrays these protests by focusing on the expressiveness of human hands rather than Wieland’s feet. Gestures of affection, resistance, protection, joy or repression are revealed in these images made in Super 8 mm Ektachrome.

When I started living alone and decorating my room with flowers, I started to get excited. There are many beautiful flowers outside, but is this someone else’s property? Even if they look like weeds, they might be someone's pleasure to pass by here, so I end up buying flowers at the florist. I wonder if flowers are something you buy with money.

A chubby, red-headed, mini-anarchist is about to become your idol. A sweaty, round-faced, pre-teen boy is our protagonist. Walking amongst ruins in his trackies, he smokes, stuffs his face repeatedly and pulls out some pretty mad shapes.

Welcome to St. Mickeyland! In painting-like tableaus, a reservation inhabited by cartoon and media icons is displayed. The assembled characters are in search of meaning in life, reflecting on their creation in the honeypot of capital. While Snow White learns stand-up paddling, Winnie-the-Pooh gives birth to a descendant, adding a dash of humanity to the fictional shell.

A present-day adaptation of an old story from Utsjoki, Sápmi. It is a legend of the director’s relative, Ovllá-Ivvár Helander, about what he did during the Spanish flu epidemic in 1918 in Utsjoki. Ovllá-Ivvár decided to fool Death and take his fate into his own hands. The protagonist of the film is walking in Ovllá-Ivvár’s footsteps.

A trip on public transport in Vienna here becomes a special research expedition, as the filmmaker Michael Heindel approaches the trivial things of everyday life with conceptual enthusiasm. His protagonist and visual focus is an amorphous being; it emerges from the fragile black in a dirty white. There are traces left by bodies, smears found on panes of glass and other surfaces in the public space.

The transparent, holographic portions of Canadian dollar bills are contact-printed onto 16 mm film. A camera-less, dizzying closer look at the monarch, maple leaves and colonial structures that secure and validate our legal tender.

„You can always be in two places at once, did you know? The real world and the magical world." 

The voice on the phone whispers in your ear -there's a way to alter reality. A journey through Graveyards, unknown waters, poems, dreams and wishes, telling us that what we long for is waiting for us and that we can meet it in our very own underworld. A film in love, like a prayer, an attempt to reclaim of what seems lost, to open the gateway and enter the real world.

A woman wants to get up. But the chairs she is sitting on won’t let her go. The woman’s room becomes her universe and the way out of it is, of all things, the armchairs.

The video 'Three Casualties' is an investigation of three movie scenes, showing stunts that lead to the deaths of the stunt doubles performing them. In some cases these scenes were left in the films so that a large audience simultaneously witnessed an actual death as well as a fictional one on screen. 

Medieval time travellers on a short visit to the future, so-called present and not-so-grey prehistory encounter burgers, SUVs, esoterics and a mammoth before (spoiler alert) returning to the past.

Accompanied by a lilting soundtrack, characters wander through London's concrete jungle as an unknown female voice reflects on the current state of the city and imagined future.

Rufus Wainwright turns himself into a fictional character based on the editor-in-chief of Vogue, Anne Wintour. A commentary on life in a reality that can be artificially altered and on the price of fame.

In the middle of the night, a broken farted finds music in the arms of beautiful strangers.

An actors’ tutorial about crying fake tears on camera. Ten actresses don’t only explain, how to make oneself cry in ten easy steps, they also give their best to demonstrate it.

We haven't gone viral.

A reference system shows the question to all answers: the filter bubble, the fake news, the algorithm and Henry Maske.

An introspective documentary that connects the cinema space and the ritual of watching with memories and dreams.

The people are in turmoil. The ground from which their enchanted garden grows trembles. Between bushes and trees, beds and wells, everyone here has lost their way on their own. Their eyes look for paths, their hands try to remember. Sometimes they catch sight of something. Sometimes they listen attentively. They hear a whispering, a soft promise. They follow the petals downriver. Onwards.

Sky over Swiss mountain peaks, wood, clouds, sneakers swirling, falling, bobbing and weaving through the air, solo, in groups, in flames, with flowers, cushions, gold coins, weightless supercars; someone is constantly racing on a bike down a high-rise towards the urban abyss… light, floating and dramatic at the same time, like Giger’s composition, which the film images do not want to dominate but to merge with.

While they are working together in the garden, two sisters set off on a disturbing journey into their childhood to track down continuities of National Socialist education ideals. How much was their upbringing influenced by the Nazi manual The German Mother and Her First Child, which continued to be published until 1987 with a changed title?

A tour of a universe shaped with the voice, where you go up and down, where you should interact without saying everything.

In Dream In Dream, a flowing, surreal world of dreams unfolds. Places and figures from colourful snippets of collages constantly reassemble themselves. The main figure in the video tumbles from scene to scene in Alice in Wonderland fashion. She meets patchwork beings such as a mirror with legs; she wanders through a wood and traverses an apple. A dream in a dream in a dream.

History revolves around the Alexander Column on Palace Square, as if it were a cursed axis of time.

This video combines the Dadaistic art of Jonathan Meese with DJ Hell’s musical homage to Kraftwerk. It shows how the protagonists are cleansed by the theft of the biggest commercialisation of art. Only through machines are we finally completely cleansed – until the ultimate cleansing during the transformation into stardust.

Slowly, the bow of a ship pushes its way into the picture, filmed from above, from the bridge onto the ship deck. A variation of tuba sounds, Groombridge 34, played and composed by Carl Ludwig Hübsch, accompanies the continuously changing deck situation of a tanker, with its pipes, painted surfaces and further details, up to the fading away of the swirls caused at the stern by the ship’s propeller in the Rhine.

Crawlies is a soliloquy based on voice recordings of my schizophrenic uncle – an audiovisual exercise of mise en abyme that weaves a sensorial patchwork of memories from my childhood.

The memory of a day at work, capitalism, the snake biting its own tail. It was a dream. We get together among migrant friends, revelry and laughter. She tells us another memory; it could also be a dream. People from different places talking to each other at the train station, various stories flowing like the river.

Using found footage from a CCTV recording, combined with a composed collage, Duoni creates an audiovisual dialogue that intertwines recordings of various emergency calls with the art song Lorelei. The video explores the persistent issue of gender inequality throughout the centuries.

K-BOB STAR turns a Korean grandmother into a fictive K-pop icon. The film combines pop culture with personal stories and interrogates concepts of age, work and femininity. The film uses performance and re-texted and reinterpreted songs to crack stereotypes and opens new perspectives on generations and identity.

The voices we hear are completely AI-generated – a deliberate device through which machines seemingly offer themselves to take over ruling the world. To make this current discourse less heavy and to create contrasts for further thought, we have given the AI-music in the video a counterbalance in the form of a handmade, analogue world of robots. Here, we found it important to cite popular future visions from the past: are we moving towards a utopia or a dystopia?

Two childhood best friends reconnect in Phnom Penh after years of separation. Chay, a Phnom Penh resident, helps Lyer, who comes from the countryside, get a job as a projectionist in the city. A film screening prompts them to wonder about their future together.

The song and, above all, the accompanying video were made in 2024 during Jeremias Heppeler’s residency in Tatsuno, Japan. There is much vacant housing in the small town; many life histories have left only traces. This circumstance, along with the marked belief in (nature) spirits, is addressed in looking @ ghosts by means of abstract dance, animation and masks.

Mkoum is about a community that is constituted by celebrating and dancing together, paying respect to those who have gone and preparing a new ground for those arriving. It is a community that has to be recreated at every moment. There are no secrets, but many things have to be learned.

A fairy tale tells of twins: one believes in property, the other rejects it. Their conflicts lead to their dividing the world in two and arguing so violently that one of them is torn into a hundred pieces. Documentary footage weaves the fantastic story with the present and creates a bridge to today.

Prayer for Taiwan is an audiovisual composition. The melody is based on Bądarzewska’s Maidens Prayer, which is used in Taiwan as a signature tune for rubbish collection. As a result of the reappraisal of the history of the military dictatorship under Chiang Kai-shek, many of his sculptures have been removed from public spaces and reinstalled at Cihu Memorial Sculpture Park.

A music video about people with different realities, and pigeons.

When we are ill, all, all we want is not to be ill anymore. The filmmaker sees a swan on the duck pond and dreams with long Covid of the realm of the healthy. An essay about enchanted invalids and dreaming birds.

There was a plan to build a cinema in the cliffs – it might have been here. Sinkhole is a poetic response to the archive and oral histories of Tyneside Cinema, an independent cinema in north-east England which has faced many waves of crisis. Through imagined vignettes, Sinkhole meditates on grand visions and being near to collapse.

Uprooted and regrowing; winding through the veins of a building. A cleaner and a student, two itinerant women, met. She crossed, she crossed, they crossed... ‘But life continues,’ she said.

Philipp Gufler’s short film is made up of a performance by the artist and film scenes of archive material relating to queer and transgender content. Divided across two sides, in the 19-minute piece we witness explicit, low-threshold expressions of sexuality that breaks with the norm.

‘I embrace strangers, I lose my friends.’ Dependent, but always wary of thousands of ‘friends’. A back-and-forth of closeness and distance, division and multiplication, uniformity and difference. The ego between humanity and troll army, algorithmic propaganda and community, as a commodity in the escalation machine of the internet.

The overall theme of Vernacular Dreamscapes is nature as a zone of the unknown and uncanny, an alien and alienated territory, a deserted zone. This is counteracted by the appearance of dreamlike and absurd phenomena and inscrutable cavernous architecture. A stringent plot is never revealed; reality remains vague. The zone is inhabited by places, dreams, voices, supernatural creatures and artifacts.

The traces of three characters, Maria, Daniel and Jackpot, can be read as an experimental coming-of-age film. The stories merge autobiographical and fictional elements into a dense poetic space, showing the interactions between personality development, family influences and social constraints. What effects do intergenerational traumas have on the psyche, on desire, on the construction of our identity?

There was a plan to build a cinema in the cliffs – it might have been here. Sinkhole is a poetic response to the archive and oral histories of Tyneside Cinema, an independent cinema in north-east England which has faced many waves of crisis. Through imagined vignettes, Sinkhole meditates on grand visions and being near to collapse.

An introspective documentary that connects the cinema space and the ritual of watching with memories and dreams.

Two childhood best friends reconnect in Phnom Penh after years of separation. Chay, a Phnom Penh resident, helps Lyer, who comes from the countryside, get a job as a projectionist in the city. A film screening prompts them to wonder about their future together.

In a not-too-distant future ravaged by climate crisis, a team of scientists analyse archival footage of farmers from the past in an attempt to understand their connection to the land.

A film student shoots his first short films on Super 8, while lamenting not having a single moving image of his parents.

There was a plan to build a cinema in the cliffs – it might have been here. Sinkhole is a poetic response to the archive and oral histories of Tyneside Cinema, an independent cinema in north-east England which has faced many waves of crisis. Through imagined vignettes, Sinkhole meditates on grand visions and being near to collapse.

An introspective documentary that connects the cinema space and the ritual of watching with memories and dreams.

Two childhood best friends reconnect in Phnom Penh after years of separation. Chay, a Phnom Penh resident, helps Lyer, who comes from the countryside, get a job as a projectionist in the city. A film screening prompts them to wonder about their future together.

In a not-too-distant future ravaged by climate crisis, a team of scientists analyse archival footage of farmers from the past in an attempt to understand their connection to the land.

A film student shoots his first short films on Super 8, while lamenting not having a single moving image of his parents.

A fairy tale tells of twins: one believes in property, the other rejects it. Their conflicts lead to their dividing the world in two and arguing so violently that one of them is torn into a hundred pieces. Documentary footage weaves the fantastic story with the present and creates a bridge to today.

The traces of three characters, Maria, Daniel and Jackpot, can be read as an experimental coming-of-age film. The stories merge autobiographical and fictional elements into a dense poetic space, showing the interactions between personality development, family influences and social constraints. What effects do intergenerational traumas have on the psyche, on desire, on the construction of our identity?

When we are ill, all, all we want is not to be ill anymore. The filmmaker sees a swan on the duck pond and dreams with long Covid of the realm of the healthy. An essay about enchanted invalids and dreaming birds.

While they are working together in the garden, two sisters set off on a disturbing journey into their childhood to track down continuities of National Socialist education ideals. How much was their upbringing influenced by the Nazi manual The German Mother and Her First Child, which continued to be published until 1987 with a changed title?

The people are in turmoil. The ground from which their enchanted garden grows trembles. Between bushes and trees, beds and wells, everyone here has lost their way on their own. Their eyes look for paths, their hands try to remember. Sometimes they catch sight of something. Sometimes they listen attentively. They hear a whispering, a soft promise. They follow the petals downriver. Onwards.

Sky over Swiss mountain peaks, wood, clouds, sneakers swirling, falling, bobbing and weaving through the air, solo, in groups, in flames, with flowers, cushions, gold coins, weightless supercars; someone is constantly racing on a bike down a high-rise towards the urban abyss… light, floating and dramatic at the same time, like Giger’s composition, which the film images do not want to dominate but to merge with.

A tour of a universe shaped with the voice, where you go up and down, where you should interact without saying everything.

In Dream In Dream, a flowing, surreal world of dreams unfolds. Places and figures from colourful snippets of collages constantly reassemble themselves. The main figure in the video tumbles from scene to scene in Alice in Wonderland fashion. She meets patchwork beings such as a mirror with legs; she wanders through a wood and traverses an apple. A dream in a dream in a dream.

This video combines the Dadaistic art of Jonathan Meese with DJ Hell’s musical homage to Kraftwerk. It shows how the protagonists are cleansed by the theft of the biggest commercialisation of art. Only through machines are we finally completely cleansed – until the ultimate cleansing during the transformation into stardust.

Slowly, the bow of a ship pushes its way into the picture, filmed from above, from the bridge onto the ship deck. A variation of tuba sounds, Groombridge 34, played and composed by Carl Ludwig Hübsch, accompanies the continuously changing deck situation of a tanker, with its pipes, painted surfaces and further details, up to the fading away of the swirls caused at the stern by the ship’s propeller in the Rhine.

K-BOB STAR turns a Korean grandmother into a fictive K-pop icon. The film combines pop culture with personal stories and interrogates concepts of age, work and femininity. The film uses performance and re-texted and reinterpreted songs to crack stereotypes and opens new perspectives on generations and identity.

The voices we hear are completely AI-generated – a deliberate device through which machines seemingly offer themselves to take over ruling the world. To make this current discourse less heavy and to create contrasts for further thought, we have given the AI-music in the video a counterbalance in the form of a handmade, analogue world of robots. Here, we found it important to cite popular future visions from the past: are we moving towards a utopia or a dystopia?

The song and, above all, the accompanying video were made in 2024 during Jeremias Heppeler’s residency in Tatsuno, Japan. There is much vacant housing in the small town; many life histories have left only traces. This circumstance, along with the marked belief in (nature) spirits, is addressed in looking @ ghosts by means of abstract dance, animation and masks.

Mkoum is about a community that is constituted by celebrating and dancing together, paying respect to those who have gone and preparing a new ground for those arriving. It is a community that has to be recreated at every moment. There are no secrets, but many things have to be learned.

A music video about people with different realities, and pigeons.

‘I embrace strangers, I lose my friends.’ Dependent, but always wary of thousands of ‘friends’. A back-and-forth of closeness and distance, division and multiplication, uniformity and difference. The ego between humanity and troll army, algorithmic propaganda and community, as a commodity in the escalation machine of the internet.

The overall theme of Vernacular Dreamscapes is nature as a zone of the unknown and uncanny, an alien and alienated territory, a deserted zone. This is counteracted by the appearance of dreamlike and absurd phenomena and inscrutable cavernous architecture. A stringent plot is never revealed; reality remains vague. The zone is inhabited by places, dreams, voices, supernatural creatures and artifacts.

Using found footage from a CCTV recording, combined with a composed collage, Duoni creates an audiovisual dialogue that intertwines recordings of various emergency calls with the art song Lorelei. The video explores the persistent issue of gender inequality throughout the centuries.

Uprooted and regrowing; winding through the veins of a building. A cleaner and a student, two itinerant women, met. She crossed, she crossed, they crossed... ‘But life continues,’ she said.

History revolves around the Alexander Column on Palace Square, as if it were a cursed axis of time.

The memory of a day at work, capitalism, the snake biting its own tail. It was a dream. We get together among migrant friends, revelry and laughter. She tells us another memory; it could also be a dream. People from different places talking to each other at the train station, various stories flowing like the river.

There is a good girl. And there is the Internet. This might seem weird but this might be real.

Tired of being despised by his colleagues – a bunch of lowbrow office machos – Mr. Lorenz opposes them and designs his own evening adventures. Free from all constraints and insults, he devotes himself to the charm of the night, of alcohol and karaoke bars.

Girardet's visual transfer of Second Chance Man, "a song about risk" (Stuart Staples), is part of The Waiting Room Film Project, a track by track interpretation of Tindersticks' latest album by various directors.

Danny, Damian and Caroline pile into the house, backwards, but with a sure sense of direction. They say that they are here and that music is important to them. That it is their friend. That they dance to it, they and everyone. That they like Lilla Coke and Ghostbusters. And in summer, they picnic, sing, rattle, knit, swing, cuddle, enjoy themselves together with their house-mates and staff under shady trees in the idyllic garden that they call Reitbrook. They do not suspect that they are quoting the painting entitled ‘Le Déjeuner sur l'herbe’ (1863) by the Impressionist painter Édouard Manet.

The video is based on found footage of showering people of both sexes.

‘Copyshop’ accompanies Berlin-Köpenick rapper Romano on a voyage of discovery to Hong Kong, where he reviews his past as a copy shop employee in Berlin. It’s all about megacities, stereotypes, creative spaces, rap music, Romano’s copy shop biography and the copy of the copy of the copy ...

In the middle of the night, a broken farted finds music in the arms of beautiful strangers.

A woman hurls lightning bolts; ghosts gather about her and want to bring her under control. She fights her way through until the ghosts fall silent.

CLIMBER: “In us: the last bytes of humanity and duty, to keep them alive for those that come after us.” EURYDICE: “Climb! Don't turn round!” - “Stay at the bottom! I'll go out, the air is thin ...” – she laughs: “... and green, colour that makes assertions” – “Black blurring, flight of birds” – “Reality that we constantly concoct in the studio.”

A reference system shows the question to all answers: the filter bubble, the fake news, the algorithm and Henry Maske.

How would it be to be the richest person in the world someday? You only need enough high-resolution photos of Elon Musk and a few good moves. The rest is done by the deepfake algorithm.

NOAH explores the lives of three real people in three different cities: Montreal, London and Berlin. Utilizing the city’s aging phone booths as a focal point, the video explores how the tools we use to communicate shape the ways in which we connect to each other. When old tools disappear, those forms of connection die with them.

The video is an exploration into the human emotion of disgust. It dives into images we often avoid and recontextualizes those that usually bring us pleasure, juxtaposing delicious moving images with repulsive ones in order to bring new life to these free stock clips gathered from around the internet.

The first single from the collaboration project between artist Jonathan Meese and DJ Hell, entitled ‘Dr No’, set to a collage-style video consisting of behind-the-scenes material from the studio and a variety of other elements.

Gravity by Laima Adelaide. – Screenplay by Laima Adelaide & Duc-Thi for a music video that is the music video, designed by Marc Engenhart. Because it’s all about the story... and the music!

‘Clubs aren’t crap; men make clubs crap’ – there is violence-free communication, and there is Maschinenbauergemetzel. This video is a passionate outburst, a bloody commentary on patriarchy, a fest of overreaction: uncompromising, brutal, sensual and ambivalent. Played by Amelie Kriss-Heinrich in an unusual single take.

A music video influenced (like the music) by the works of feminist writer Angela Carter with the theme of hybridity – human snails and snail-like humans, human mushrooms and mushrooms with human skin, hermaphrodites and men without genitals… Chimeric protagonists performing useless, pointless, Sisyphean tasks. Overloading the AI to make it hallucinate, thereby transforming it into a dream machine…

‘Issues / often have two sides / You can turn them to suit yourself / War is suddenly called peace / shells Leonids / My sofa has a problem with me //’ A rubber slipper, sickle and hammer, mosquito spray, a foot mat with the Little Mole on it, an egg cutter and several other things while away the time on planet Earth at five past 12. With excerpts from Koyaanisqatsi, Zabriskie Point, Terminator and other found footage.

In 1998, filmmaker Barbara Hammer had a filmmaking residency without water or electricity.  In 2018, Barbara began her own process of dying. She gave her material from the residency to Lynne Sachs who explored Barbara’s experience of solitude. Lynne places text on the screen as a confrontation with a somatic cinema, bringing us all together in multiple spaces and times.

In the year 2020, when the world was forced to ‘change’, I wanted to confirm what changed and what did not change in me. The white mask I wore became the screen projecting my past. My family is sometimes hurt, but support me as I suffer from schizophrenia. We live today while looking for the answer to ‘Who are we?’

A vacation house in a rural Swedish forest setting is observed by mysterious forces transforming into modern ghosts in city life. Shifting into forms of what we cannot yet deal with. Kaleidoscopic visuals following a constant shift between micro and macro perspective inform the form and narrative in this experimental hybrid art movie exploring film from a post-humanist perspective.

During the Russian occupation of the Chernobyl Zone in early 2022, a local informant is clandestinely filming the Russian troops. We hear the workers of the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Station discuss their experiences during the Russian military takeover of their facility – an act of nuclear terror which threatened another global disaster at this site. Past and present catastrophic scenarios intertwine in this macabre episode of the Russian invasion of Ukraine.

A young man who has just finished handling his parents’ funeral attempts to purchase fireworks for the 2023 Spring Festival, where fireworks are prohibited.

Some days she imagines that by her sheer will she can make body parts fall off of people who seem vicious to her. And some other days everyone around her looks beautiful. And when she was little, she wished that flowers would grow out of her footprints.

A woman wants to get up. But the chairs she is sitting on won’t let her go. The woman’s room becomes her universe and the way out of it is, of all things, the armchairs.

That’s the toilet, right? And what should be done here? This toilet is already fully designed. What else am I supposed to do here? Be an fine design or what? So what comes out of this toilet? It's a toilet bowl. Three different odours come out of it or do they go in? Three components.

A marvellous biopic about the most successful living painter. The AI hybrid film explores painting caught between creativity, capital and spirituality in an era of artificial reproducibility. Gerhard’s revolutionary squeegee technique inspires artists worldwide, is adapted and marketed, while the mythos of the ‘genius’ is written into a uncontrollable generic chain of creation.

Afibola is an Afrofeminist and queer Cuban activist, trying to teach their son Olorun how to grow up to be a free Afrocuban man despite the obstacles around them. In the intimacy of their community home spaces, they reflect on the difficulty of educating a black child in a racist and discriminatory society.

In 1982, the eruption of a volcano called Chichonal forced the Zoque community to relocate. Filmed over the course of six years, (((((/*\))))) captures the unique atmosphere of the Indigenous group’s Chiapas village. Gradually, political themes come to the surface. 

The magical, the dreamlike and the performative coexist in the particular world of "Las Traviesas" – a group of trans women from the Embera community, living and working in the Colombian coffee region. An aesthetic and conceptual universe with a particular stamp, in which documentary and fiction are indistinct palettes to draw the struggle to maintain indigenous identity.

Six tumbling bodies on mountain slopes of the Alps, caught between heaven and earth, among the cows and the villagers.

This film draws a parallel between an episode of Julius Caesar's "Gallic War" and a choreographed digest of the history of the Twist.

Plan B is a short dance film about waiting. A brief glimpse at three young men as they are waiting for their laundry.

‘Sento’ is a Japanese public bath. This particular public bath features fascinating details such as a wall-size print of  Mount Fuji, pop yellow plastic washbowls, asymmetrical mirrors and other things fusing in a dance.

We haven't gone viral.

What do we say when we don’t talk? "Dancen" looks at the fleeting impulses that live in between moments of the day. Their precise quality is situated between quiet habits: that is, the space inhabited by yearning, daydreams, surrealism. How would a day look made of just the meaning in between the lines, the momentary glimpses of truth?