The Skin of the Eye

Katarina Hruskova / Laura Fitzgerald / Bernd Oppl / Laure Prouvost / Julie Born Schwartz / Patrick Goddard

Initiated by Elisabeth Molin

The cinema is an art deco, vast but intimate, soft almost, with the red velvet chairs, the curtains in deep red and the yellow tinted lights raising perpendicular from the floor. There is a silence in the cinema before an 80’s love song is blasting out of the speakers causing everyone in the audience to turn their necks and look left, almost looking for something in the darkness. The curtains are pulled aside and the projector spills light particles onto the canvas, it’s an abstract image of the sun, blurry almost, piercing the edge of the eyes, as if the screen just lost definition or your eyes just melted, became opaque. The yellow is both illuminating and sick, as if the colour of the eyebrows were the colour of the socks, this moustache you keep swirling with your fingers tips, a wet surface, bathed in light, defined by reflections and this omnipresent beat of cell phones, cells transforming in your Membrane you say, as you blink your eyes involuntarily, before you gape them wide as the projector beam, and you dance with your body, a motorization of sorts, an automation, these pixels swinging from side to side, swimming sideways through your veins, a sticky burning sensation. A tiny fly enters the cinema and gravitates towards the centre of the space, circulating, dancing almost in front of the white screen. Two kids on the floor are trying to capture its movement in their kaleidoscope - repeated endlessly- red velvet chairs, the flickering lights, faces with eyes staring upwards, the colour of the skin changing from yellow to blue to green, the sound of someone coughing and an old man who has fallen asleep on the asphalt. Kapow. The poster reads above him, stone white, withered leaves, the sound of popcorn and the smell of plastic burning around the street lights, in continuous red, a waiting for something that never happens. Hello says the ladies in lies, they bow and nick their heads, almost mechanically to follow the movement of the chameleon on the screen, still, slimy, sucking, spastic, spontaneous they agree and walk out.
The Skin of the Eye, Elisabeth Molin

Patrick GoddardPatrick Goddard

Free Radicals, 5.55 min

Katarina Hruskova Katarina Hruskova

I carry a tiny knife, 9.18 min

Laura FitzgeraldLaura Fitzgerald

Brian Rock, 8.16 min

Bernd Oppl Bernd Oppl

Passage, 1.51 min

Laura ProuvostLaura Prouvost

It, Heat, Hit, 7.12 min

Julie Born Swartz Julie Born Swartz

I had an expectation that it would fade, 5.45 min