https://redrice.net redrice Wed, 22 May 2024 14:34:13 +0000 https://redrice.net en http://redrice.net/Touch-of-Presence Wed, 22 May 2024 14:34:13 +0000 redrice 453066 Bodywork / Touch of Presence® I have long been a grateful recipient of many kinds of bodywork, since 1997 when a slightly mystical Swiss masseuse restored in two short sessions a badly sprained ankle that had kept me housebound for weeks, and for which medical science could apparently offer me nothing except more prolonged and painful immobility.&nbsp; When I moved to Brussels in 2000, lower back pain, aggravated by the rigors of handheld camera work, meant I continued to be a regular client for many different bodyworkers and movement teachers - from osteopathy to Pilates, and from Alexander Technique to Ilan Lev Method, TRE® or Gaga dance.&nbsp; I am very grateful to them all for everything they showed me about how to become more fully embodied, and more fully myself - as well as for my comparitively pain-free existence today. In 2018, I came to craniosacral therapy largely by chance. I was looking for a way to make a film about therapeutic touch which would include me studying some modality for myself, so as to gain insight into the perspective of the practitioner, not just the client. Craniosacral work did not only resolve an immediate pain issue I was having - a small injury to the neck following a slightly reckless contact improvisation session. It also, over time, helped me unwind long-held physical tensions I was not even aware that I was carrying, and settle my nervous system, so that I began to experience the whole of life from a new “baseline”, with less perceptual and emotional “noise”, and greater sensitivity and awareness.&nbsp; In 2019, I started studying the Biodynamic Cranial Approach with its founder Giorgia Milne, graduating from her first Touch of Presence® intensive for practitioners in June 2022. Since then, my interest in cranial work has become an enthusiasm in its own right, independent of whether I one day make the film I once imagined, or not. In the summer of 2023, I began to offer Touch of Presence® sessions free of charge to anyone who is interested at Les Magnolias, Brussels. And in 2024, I will begin assisting Giorgia on her introductory courses in Europe.&nbsp;“Craniosacral” refers to the fluid system - literally, the cerebrospinal fluid that bathes the brain and spine - whose rhythms mediate between body and mind (or spirit), and between the individual life and the larger field of shared reality. “Biodynamic” refers to the insight we owe to the father of cranial osteopathy, William Sutherland, that the application of “external force” to correct a lesion is often, or perhaps always, less effective than - and often contradictory with - the unfolding of the system’s own intelligence, or what his close colleague Rollin Becker termed, the “inherent treatment plan”.&nbsp; And that the only thing needed to allow that unfolding, is the compassionate presence of a truly neutral, non-judgemental witness. Touch of Presence® approaches cranial work in the spirit of Sutherland and Becker, as an act of humility and deference before the subtle forces of Nature that are constantly at work in all of us, and which flourish best when the practitioner gives up “doing”, “diagnosing” or “treating”, and is simply and fully present to whatever is unfolding. The practitioner “listens” with their hands to whatever rhythms or patterns may arise, while cultivating a state of “neutral”. These rhythms can be sensed anywhere in the body, or even “off” the body.&nbsp; By modelling a responsive style of non-doing for the client, the practitioner offers them a different experience of how they can relate to themselves that encourages self-acceptance, and cultivates the pre-conditions for healing. Working in silence, largely without words, the brain is able to rest, and the whole system can begin to repair and recover, at whatever level(s) it needs, from the many forms of imbalance and disconnection that are endemic in the society around us. *** Since March 2022, I have also been training with Karen Whalen and Roberto Larios in their evolution of Eugene Gendlin’s focusing work, as a Relational Wholebody Focusing professional. I have a daily meditation practice, and began attending satsang with Naropa in August 2023. To book a cranial session in Brussels with me, please write to relationalwhole(at)gmail.com. Bodywork / Touch of Presence® I have long been a grateful recipient of many kinds of bodywork, since 1997 when a slightly mystical Swiss masseuse restored in two... http://redrice.net/We-are-going-to-edit-a-film Wed, 20 May 2020 14:24:31 +0000 redrice 368052 We are going to edit a film When I first started looking through the video archive which Juan Javier had brought back from his many expeditions to the Lambayequehighlands, my immediate reaction was that these videos had not been made with a film in mind. Instead, they struck me as essentially an ethnographic research tool -- a means for him to capture data that he would need, and which he might otherwise miss out on, or forget. They seemed highly focused on providing information, and not so much on capturing a moment, a gesture, an atmosphere, a relationship. The way the camera could be turned off and on abruptly with no concern for establishing place or time, the way it was often placed on the first available surface, to keep half an eye on the scene, while Javier went closer to his informant to record his or her answers in more detail with his voice recorder, the way that every piece of video was dense with discourse or with codified action, while all the empty moments that make up the larger (and often the more interesting) part of life were omitted, cast off -- all this made me think that it would be very difficult to work with this material in the way that I was used to working. My usual approach to editing documentary film is to proceed by subtracting from the raw footage as much information as is possible, until I reach a point where what remains is balanced nicely on the edge between meaning and not-meaning. But in these videos, there was so little space given to anything that was not meaningful, that it seemed almost impossible to create from them films which invited the viewer to imagine their own meanings, rather than just receive, and submit to, those of the anthropologist and/or his Cañarense interlocutors. Their obvious richness and clarity as a source for ethnography was achieved at the expense of the opacity of intentions and confusion of motives on which my own work as a filmmaker depends. I am used to working with material which - whether I have generated it myself or not - puts the relationship between the filmmaker and the other people present directly into play, and which does so in particular through attention to those moments that seem the most banal or insignificant -- those moments when the way in which “nothing” happens suggests, more strongly than words or obviously meaningful events can, a certain unique texture to a shared world. I knew that Javier’s relationship to the people of these villages had been rich, varied and often quite intense, from the many stories he had told me. But as I worked through his archive, this almost undiluted emphasis on the ethnographically useful in his choices of what to film and when to start and stop the camera rose up almost like a wall, blocking my obvious sightlines, both to the ethnographer as co-creator of the world he moved through, and to the everyday matrix of life in these villages in its lived concreteness. It was only when I came on the videos Javier had made during a series of recording sessions of local songs and music he had organised that I suddenly felt the ethnographer’s archive open up to the filmmaker’s eye. Here was a radically different situation. Where in the other videos,the human relationship always seemed constrained or marginalised by the focus on cultural facts, which encompassed principally speech and a relatively small range of densely codified practices (song, music, ritual), here the primary relationship constituting the situation was not one that Javier had shaped, even if it was he who had chosen it. Here, it was what happened between the people of the villages of Cañaris and Incahuasi on the one hand, and the recording engineers who were visiting from Lima on the other, that was crucial. Once the informalrecording studio had been set up (in a school classroom, or on the premises of a local radio station ), Javier’s role was effectively reduced to that of an intermediary, a facilitator, and a marginal one at that. Instead of recording and questioning people about their own rituals, he had become the cause of their confrontation with a much stranger and much more rigid ritual than any they enacted in their normal lives: that of the hi-fidelity recording engineer, with his inexplicable instruments, his incomprehensible instructions, and his maniacal search for an impossible, even ludicrous perfection, summed up here in the single, utopian word: “Silence”. By being decentered, Javier’s camera ceased to be the instrument of his own scientific research, and became instead a witness to a bizarre series of mutual misunderstandings which he had himself helped to set in motion. And since the greater part of the recording sesssions were taken up with the search for an elusive studio-like silence in a village full of inquisitive children, rambunctious animals, and unpredictable motor traffic, much of what was filmed was, by default, the act of waiting. Waiting for the conditions to be right, for the engineer to give an initially incomprehensible sign, waiting for that sign to be understood and acted on, waiting to perform alone and sober for the microphone and its technological eternity an action that would otherwise only be done among friends, in the comfort of someone’s home, surrounded by the warm buzz of conversation and laughter which rarely make a pause, accompanied by dancing, and pursued through the haze (mellow or vivid) of the special kind of drunkenness produced by the constant flow of locally-distilled alcohol from small plastic water bottles. In these videos, something different emerged.&nbsp; Awkwardly observing this scene, largely unable to intervene to change it or to soften the blow, forced to wait like the villagers for the engineer’s inscrutable decisions, to tolerate these brusque invasions of a space he had himself helped to define, Javier and his camera were no longer trapped in a dyadic confrontation between the ethnographer and his “informant”, but instead found themselves displaced to one apex of a triangle. And where his feelings might pull him to defend, if not identify with, the villagers in the face of the apparent absurdity, even indignity of this process, his actual practice as he filmed these sessions - and his instrument, the camcorder - despite their relative technological modesty, place him clearly on the same side as the recording engineers. As an anthropologist, he too was committed to trying to “capture” something, even if that meant, in the process, distorting it, uprooting it, even perhaps destroying it... When I discovered these videos - a couple of hours embedded in the middle of an archive of more than a hundred hours in total - I suddenly knew that it was possible to make something out of this footage. That inside the ethnographic record, a cinematographic adventure was embedded. For in these videos, the processes of meaning typical both of ethnographic research, and of filming itself, are reconfigured. Instead of being simply a material notation of words and gestures which might otherwise be lost to the ethnographer’s other recording devices, and which are in any case destined to be reexpressed through the discourse of “scientific” writing, the act of filming here becomes the concrete registration of three, very different, but equally acute forms of tension: — that of the recording engineer whose professional pride is at stake, and who has a very difficult job to do, in far from ideal circumstances, and in a very limited space of time; — that of the villagers who pass before the engineer’s microphone, who have to reproduce a song or a dance or a musical air for an invisible audience, as if it was something that existed in itself, independent of the context of its performance; — and that of the ethnographer who wants the results of the recordings, both for his research, and as a witness to the beauty of these songs and music which he has felt, but who maybe wishes he could have the end without the means - without having to impose this alien process on these people to whom he feels responsible, and whom, in several cases, he now considers friends. As a result, these videos condense a complexity of feelings and relationships between the ethnographer/filmmaker and the people whose culture he wants to study and “preserve” in a way that I have rarely seen. And they do so through means that are almost entirely non-verbal. While words do play a role in the absurdist comedy that is enacted here, most of the work is done, not by the outsiders who are moving around and talking, but by the villagers themselves, even as they are imprisoned in these fragments of extreme immobility and silence. Through these multiple demands -- for silence, for them not to move, for them to keep a constant distance from the microphone, for them not to make noises with their legs or hands -- the forces in play here conspire to reproduce something like the conditions that obtainedin the early years of still portrait photography, when very long exposure times would oblige sitters to hold the same pose for an unnaturally long period without moving, thus turning the simplest of expressions and gestures into a complex, demanding and highly rhetorical performance. The ways in which the musicians and singers of Cañaris and Incahuasi accept, assume and reinvent this constraint in between takes, speaks to a world of attitudes, intentions and practices, which have nothing to do with producing quality audio recordings, and which we can hardly begin to imagine, but which perhaps do have something to do with some of the words these poses might make resonate for us: dignity, patience, resistance.&nbsp; — * —&nbsp; Starting from these videos, then, which became the film We are going to record, I was able to work my way back into the other material which had seemed to me at first too straightforwardly “informational” to be interesting. Viewing it again, through the glass provided by this first film, I was able to locate in it something of the same sensations and values I had found in the performances the people of Cañaris and Incahuasi gave of themselves, as well as of their music, in the recording session footage -- and also something of the video maker’s silent solidarity with them, that I now saw as underlying Juan Javier’s ethnographic restraint. I was helped in this also by Juan Javier’s constant, and supportive, presence in my editing room in Belgium, where he often showed a more dispassionate and more critical relationship to the material he had filmed than I myself did! From this starting point we were able to progress easily to the idea for Of guitars and men, as a film that would be the opposite of We are going to record, in its garrulousness, its bawdiness and lack of self-restraint (and which would also allow us to hear some of the music that we had been deprived of in the earlier film, but this time, in something more like its natural context of drink, dance and sexual boasting). And from here, it was not a far step to imagining the concept for Rituals, as a film which would take advantage of the lack of contextualisation in the archive footage itself to construct a sort of ethnographic Groundhog Day, in which the annual ritual calendar of several villages could be condensed into a single, constantly repeated diurnal cycle, and in which Christian myths, pre-Christian practices and modern forms of music and entertainment would coexist peacefully, though not necessarily coherently. However, the other big discovery I made was when Juan Javier and I came to work on the two films that frame the installation, and in particular on the first of these, Cristobal and the mine, a story told in the first person by a semi-fictional anthropologist. These films were intended to address the issue of how to represent the mine that did not yet exist, and so could not have been filmed while Juan Javier had been working there. As we constructed a narrative that would make it possible to see the customs, rituals and practices that the other films document not simply as interesting or valuable in their own right, but also as on some level directly opposed to the kind of “development” that was being foisted on the region against the will of many of its inhabitants, I realised that in We are going to record we had already created a microcosmic portrait of the collision between the people of the Lambayeque highlands, and an alien, invasive, and (from their point of view) entirely unnecessary technology. Arguably, ethnographers and sound recordists do less damage than open cast mines and industrial refineries that use poisonous chemicals to strip economically valuable minerals out of raw ore. And the growing conflict that finally tipped the people of Cañaris and Incahuasi over into direct action obviously presents a far more radical and more brutal assault on their ways of life than anything which anthropology and its adjuncts might do on their own. Still, how far can we reasonably isolate one process from the other? After all, anthropology as a discipline was born alongside colonialism, and anthropologists have often - sometimes unwittingly, sometimes all too willingly - served as ancillaries in the secular war between industrial society and the cultures and communities that stand in the way of its expansion. Not only that, but the minerals necessary to build the microphones and laptop computers, and the video cameras, and the cars and airplanes that brought them all this far, all come from mines like the one that is being planned in Cañaris. Culture - our culture, the culture of those of us who make such films, record such music, write such scholarly tomes, and conceive, organise and visit such installations - is not a random sequence of isolated artefacts. Despite and through its diversity and multiplicity, its basic building blocks are always already a concatenation, an assemblage, and these assemblages implicate us, whether we will or not, in a thousand absent realities, including many that we would doubtless rather deny or ignore. Taken together, then, the videos that make up The Owners of the Land essay a new path through some of these assemblages, one that I hope may enable new relationships to appear, and new connections to be made. I hope, in particular, that they can help us gauge the reserves of patience and tolerance which must have been exhausted to bring the people of these villages in northern Peru to the point of taking direct action against the combined muscle of a small, but by their standards fabulously wealthy, international mining company, and the Peruvian state, along with its allies in the dominant media. Above all, in their dramatisation of this conflict as a collision, not between “tradition” and “modernity”, but between meaningful, joyous and fleeting human interactions on the one hand, and on the other, the sterile and mortifying reduction of such relationships to “products”, “objects”, “recordings”, “data”, “documents”, and “videos”, that can be commercialised to enthusiasts of world music and exotic cultures, “conserved” in museums and archives with a view to some mythical immortality, or circulated for more high-minded forms of “exchange” through academic and artistic circuits, I hope that these videos can help us understand more than simply what may be at stake in conflicts between local communities and extractive and other capital-intensive industries, in South America, and elsewhere. For the problem is not just that “traditional” ways of life (whatever they may be) are being lost to “development”. The problem is that we ourselves (whoever we may be), to the extent that we allow ourselves to be reduced to mere spectators, may find ourselves losing the capacity (or the skill) to recognise and defend those forms of spontaneity, conviviality and self-reliance without which no way of life that we may inherit or invent, however ancient, or however recent, will be worth the candle. Peter Snowdon, Brussels, 27 September 2013 We are going to edit a film When I first started looking through the video archive which Juan Javier had brought back from his many expeditions to the... http://redrice.net/Crossing-the-line Wed, 20 May 2020 12:47:44 +0000 redrice 368037 Crossing the line (2002)&nbsp; &nbsp; Jon Jost in conversation with Peter Snowdon and Katia Rossini Peter Snowdon 1 · Crossing the line: Jon Jost in BrusselsIn 2001, shortly after I first arrived in Brussels, my friend Jonathan Murphy invited me to interview the American filmmaker Jon Jost for the now-defunct English-language magazine, The Bulletin, where he was arts editor. The result was the beginning of both a long collaboration with The Bulletin, and a long friendship with Jon, whom I came to consider as, in many ways, my cinematographic mentor. Jon was in town for a series of retrospective screenings at the Cinema Nova, contrasting his older work on celluloid with his newest adventures in “digital cinema”. The latter works, especially the more abstract ones, affected me deeply. After finishing the short piece that appeared in print, I found myself not only with a long recorded interview that touched on many subjects that fascinated me, but which would have left a broader, non-cinephile audience cold, but also with a “bootleg” registration of the fascinating - and sometimes fractious - public conversation that had taken place on evening in the basement bar of the Nova between Jon and the programmer Katia Rossini. When I learned that Jon was going to produce and exhibit the multi-screen installation Trinity at ZKM in Karlsruhe the following year, I proposed providing an edited version of our conversations to accompany the event. Recorded at the Cinema Nove and the Hotel Van Belle, Brussels, on 28 and 29 April 2001. Produced by Peter Snowdon for the Necessary Press.&nbsp; Presented by ZKM, Karlsruhe, to accompany Jost’s installation Trinity, 28 October - 3 November 2002. First broadcast on KMSU-FM and KMSK-FM on 27 December, 2002.&nbsp; Running time: 63’04”. Thanks to Jon Jost, Katia Rossini, Hippolyte Waldman, Jonathan Murphy, Margaret Rosen, David R. Israel, OtherShore, Craig Groe and John Sherwood.&nbsp; Crossing the line (2002)&nbsp; &nbsp; Jon Jost in conversation with Peter Snowdon and Katia Rossini Peter Snowdon 1 · Crossing the line: Jon Jost in BrusselsIn... http://redrice.net/Writing-about-the-Uprising Wed, 20 May 2020 09:46:03 +0000 redrice 368030 About The Uprising Interviews (selected) Pamela Cohn, interview with Peter Snowdon for BOMB Magazine, 20 February 2014.&nbsp; Farah Clémentine Dramani Issifou, interview with Peter Snowdon (in French) for Belleville en vues / Médiapart, 18 November 2014. Catherine Ermakoff et Ulrike Lune Riboni, “Filmer pour agir sur le présent, entretien avec Peter Snowdon” (in French),&nbsp; Vertigo,&nbsp;2015/1 (n° 48), 17-30 (paywall). Reviews and articles (selected) J;Hoberman, “‘The Uprising,’ a Masterpiece of iPhone Cinema“, New York Times, 5 April 2020.Katarzyna Ruchel-Stockmans, "The Performativity of Mobile Cameras in New Image Wars," in Visualizing War: Emotions, Technologies, Communities, edited by Anders Engberg-Pedersen and Kathrin Maurer&nbsp;(Routledge, 2018), 110-126. Dork Zabunyan, The Insistance of Struggle (IF Publications, 2019), 109-112. (Originally published in French as L’Insistance des luttes. Images, soulèvements, contre-révolutions, De l’Incidence Editeur, 2016).&nbsp; Julie Savelli, “Peuples de l’image” (in French),&nbsp;Entrelacs, 12, 2016. Gabriel Bortzmeyer, “dépli de peuples” (in French), Vacarme, 74, 2016.&nbsp; Florian&nbsp;Krautkrämer, “Revolution Uploaded. Un/Sichtbares im Handy-Dokumentarfilm” (in&nbsp; German),&nbsp; Zeitschrift für Medienwissenschaft, 11/2 (2014), 113–26. Rodolphe Olcèse, “The Uprising de Peter Snowdon” (in French), A bras le corps, 3 September 2014.&nbsp; Jon Jost, “New York, New York”, cinemaelectronic, 20 February 2014. See also the doctoral theses of Kênia Cardoso Vilaça de Freitas, Gabriel Bortzmeyer and Rolophe Olcèse, available through Google Scholar.&nbsp; About The Uprising Interviews (selected) Pamela Cohn, interview with Peter Snowdon for BOMB Magazine, 20 February 2014.&nbsp; Farah Clémentine Dramani Issifou,... http://redrice.net/Home Wed, 20 May 2020 09:33:27 +0000 redrice 368026 Peter Snowdon Films Installations Writing Other Bodywork Info Peter Snowdon Films Installations Writing Other Bodywork Info http://redrice.net/Visceral Wed, 20 May 2020 09:13:11 +0000 redrice 368023 Visceral (2018) - photo series <img width="5472" height="3648" width_o="5472" height_o="3648" src_o="https://cortex.persona.co/t/original/i/32e32310d9ad0c1dfbc845c10f9c4cfe3b8051181e862d347cfa818e4f77cef2/01-DSC00658-Tri-X.jpeg" data-mid="925771" border="0" /><img width="5472" height="3648" width_o="5472" height_o="3648" src_o="https://cortex.persona.co/t/original/i/49eda7ecc60d3fce095d1ce56dca5c049a1e72e9d6a02ca89b74e50f491368da/00-DSC00624-fuji-pinhole.jpeg" data-mid="925770" border="0" /><img width="3648" height="5472" width_o="3648" height_o="5472" src_o="https://cortex.persona.co/t/original/i/4d6344caf3c000aaa0c29f3d2c17b2089f3130a20e7d1988f83c3f55cbe55b88/02-DSC00510-sand-dunes.jpeg" data-mid="925772" border="0" /><img width="3648" height="5472" width_o="3648" height_o="5472" src_o="https://cortex.persona.co/t/original/i/4d6344caf3c000aaa0c29f3d2c17b2089f3130a20e7d1988f83c3f55cbe55b88/02-DSC00510-sand-dunes.jpeg" data-mid="925772" border="0" /><img width="5472" height="3648" width_o="5472" height_o="3648" src_o="https://cortex.persona.co/t/original/i/375d3cf64e36872c77756f077ad76deb7eaa75ddbaba543d703f973e989705d5/03-DSC00743-sand-dunes.jpeg" data-mid="925774" border="0" /><img width="5472" height="3648" width_o="5472" height_o="3648" src_o="https://cortex.persona.co/t/original/i/bd1899bfc35a5fc82aa07a4c0231bd4a0ba4f893353b3fcebc02df2961fbaafc/04-DSC00721-kodak-32-panto.jpeg" data-mid="925773" border="0" /><img width="3648" height="5472" width_o="3648" height_o="5472" src_o="https://cortex.persona.co/t/original/i/fd4c14d394de019922cb84eff035a6adb4b941ee4b071d07a0b84d544ea77243/05-DSC00896-sand-dunes.jpeg" data-mid="925776" border="0" /><img width="5472" height="3648" width_o="5472" height_o="3648" src_o="https://cortex.persona.co/t/original/i/5eeb890b1d80d8fe5d4153a10d1416bb57d8cac4642bee83466be65b4871c84c/06-DSC00790-delta-100-pro.jpeg" data-mid="925775" border="0" /><img width="5472" height="3648" width_o="5472" height_o="3648" src_o="https://cortex.persona.co/t/original/i/6a9b08bdb5a49fc7e168f64ea92fcb83f9ef60091df2005e383d5e43234df56f/06a-DSC00565-delta-100-pro.jpeg" data-mid="925777" border="0" /><img width="5472" height="3648" width_o="5472" height_o="3648" src_o="https://cortex.persona.co/t/original/i/cf5d85707a448735390849d424053beb1e2c70979484ce7889b7bef920ae865f/07-DSC01087-pan-f-plus-50.jpeg" data-mid="925778" border="0" /><img width="5472" height="3648" width_o="5472" height_o="3648" src_o="https://cortex.persona.co/t/original/i/c355890d8fd9bfa2baf3b6152a3dae93727ea13f8f981d44269eacd7ebed1fc9/08-DSC01043-sand-dunes-2.jpeg" data-mid="925779" border="0" /><img width="5472" height="3648" width_o="5472" height_o="3648" src_o="https://cortex.persona.co/t/original/i/765f28aa49e36f52645fdf3f326d9d6f3709ae7f125f2ac42a9e3cadaef0b5ef/09-DSC01171-fuji.jpeg" data-mid="925780" border="0" /><img width="3648" height="5472" width_o="3648" height_o="5472" src_o="https://cortex.persona.co/t/original/i/d2e8d0b5a5e70a4db9bf3475dcea1b2beae36031ff5051ab0016c6f59a85ee7c/11-DSC00930-delta-100-pinhole.jpeg" data-mid="925781" border="0" /><img width="5472" height="3648" width_o="5472" height_o="3648" src_o="https://cortex.persona.co/t/original/i/e257bc79cafc669a21d073722c2c78160f2cbbc5f86843379f6d61ece7b4dc9f/10-DSC00852-sand-dunes-2.jpeg" data-mid="925782" border="0" /><img width="3648" height="5472" width_o="3648" height_o="5472" src_o="https://cortex.persona.co/t/original/i/017c7b05941f64ac6495e9d584870cff12f465a5af66d37363263cc061be263e/12-DSC01122-fuji.jpeg" data-mid="925783" border="0" />In April 2018, I spent several days filming and photographing the fourth-year visceral osteopathy class given at the Collège Belge d’Ostéopathie by Franz Buset, D.O., the co-director of the Collège. The main result was a sequence of photographs, Visceral, first exhibited as part of the exhibition INNER SENSE: Bodies at work at the Gallerie de l’ERG in December 2018, and subsequently published in the artist’s book L’Entre-Corps which I made with Laure Cottin Stefanelli.&nbsp; Visceral (2018) - photo series In April 2018, I spent several days filming and photographing the fourth-year visceral osteopathy class given at the Collège Belge... http://redrice.net/Other Wed, 20 May 2020 09:12:42 +0000 redrice 368022 Other Visceral (2018) Crossing the line (2005) Other Visceral (2018) Crossing the line (2005) http://redrice.net/07h00 Wed, 20 May 2020 08:35:54 +0000 redrice 368020 07h00-O8H00 (2012) &nbsp;&nbsp; contribution to BXL 24, second series BXL 24 | SÉRIE 2 | 07h00 - 08h00 from BXL 24 on Vimeo. For the second series of BXL 24, a collective city portrait of Brussels orchestrated for the CVB by Effi Weiss and Amir Borenstein, I contributed this one-minute&nbsp; of my friend Susie Jones doing early morning yoga in her (then) flat in Woluwé St Lambert. 07h00-O8H00 (2012) &nbsp;&nbsp; contribution to BXL 24, second series BXL 24 | SÉRIE 2 | 07h00 - 08h00 from BXL 24 on Vimeo. For the second series of BXL 24, a... http://redrice.net/Florennes Wed, 20 May 2020 08:28:59 +0000 redrice 368018 Ce qu’on a fait à Florennes / What we did at Florennes (2003)&nbsp; &nbsp; by les Films en compote Film diary of an anti-GM direct action, shot in Super 8 and told through the words and memories of the people who took part in it. A visit to the location of an experimental crop of genetically-modified rapeseed becomes the occasion for a long debate about the future of agriculture with the farmer who had hosted it on his land.&nbsp; A record of the inaugural genespotting action organised in Belgium by the CAGE (Collectif d’Action GénEthique). The film was put together with the assistance of several of the people who had organised and taken part in the day’s action, and the soundtrack records their memories and thoughts. Pierre Deruisseau helped us choose the music. The technical and aesthetic responsibility for the editing lay with myself and Helen Holder, but the authorship of the film was collectively ascribed to Les Films en Compote, the filmmaking wing of the CAGE, and an untranslatable play on words. This film is dedicated, retrospectively, to the memory of my friend and comrade Helen Holder, and to that of Eric van Wynsberghe, the farmer with whom we met that day, and with whom we remained in friendly contact for many years afterwards,&nbsp; both of whom passed away far too young. <img width="720" height="576" width_o="720" height_o="576" src_o="https://cortex.persona.co/t/original/i/53e1d574225af3b2409eb5f261e611676e71c0e46710d36fe2e59122853c4610/florenne-3.jpg" data-mid="925472" border="0" /> Interview about Genespotting with Sebastien Denys of the CAGE (in French). 15 minutes, DV/Super 8, 4:3, mono. Distribution: Indymedia European Newsreal 8Used by ASEED Europe to launch their 2003 European Genespotting campaign.Excerpts screened by ARTE Germany (Absolut). Ce qu’on a fait à Florennes / What we did at Florennes (2003)&nbsp; &nbsp; by les Films en compote Film diary of an anti-GM direct action, shot in Super 8 and... http://redrice.net/L-Entre-corps Wed, 20 May 2020 08:17:16 +0000 redrice 368016 L’Entre-corps (with Laure Cottin Stefanelli) (CVB Publications, 2019) <img width="2152" height="2937" width_o="2152" height_o="2937" src_o="https://cortex.persona.co/t/original/i/313012c31c115b991902fda8bd52443b1daa291375df42ec55bf4b37e69908f2/entre-22-cropped.jpg" data-mid="925811" border="0" /> In 2018, I shared the Conversation #3 residency, hosted jointly by the CVB and the GSARA, with the French artist and filmmaker Laure Cottin Stefanelli. This publication closed the year we spent in conversation with each other, and with others, around questions of how our filmmaking practices are pursued through and in relation to the body.&nbsp; The book is centered on a long conversation between myself and Laure, and also contains conversations with the Alexander technique teachers&nbsp; Athanase Vettas and Anne Danckaert, the theatre maker Rémy Bertrand, the dancers Natalie Heller and Maria Michalidou, the bodybuilder Jennifer Teuwen, and the artists Xenia Taniko and Tramaine de Senna. The texts are sometimes in French, and sometimes in English. The residency opened with a presentation of our work at Bozar, and culminated with an exhibition, INNER SENSE: Bodies at work, at the Galerie de l’ERG, at which I presented Seven duets and two solos, along with the photo series Visceral and a series of short improvised films created with Rémy Bertrand and Zootrophic.&nbsp; Along the way, I also had the opportunity to work with Rémy and with the students at ERG&nbsp;on a workshop which led to a filmed public performance under the title, Les Chaises élastiques.&nbsp; Many thanks to the different institutions that supported us throughout the year, and in particular to Cyril Bibas, Olivier Burlet, Joël Curtz, Xavier Bardon Garcia, Sammy Del Gallo, Chloé Malcotti and Anatole Israel. Special thanks to Anatole Lachassagne, who designed the book with us. The book is available for purchase direct from the CVB for EUR 25. L’Entre-corps (with Laure Cottin Stefanelli) (CVB Publications, 2019) In 2018, I shared the Conversation #3 residency, hosted jointly by the CVB and the...