Most of my videos are of lost and forgotten places, and while visiting these places I have often pondered the people that once inhabited them. Who were they…where are they? To a large extent they are here. These are the inhabitants of my “drowned worlds.”
The film’s themes are startlingly relevant today: the intersection of commerce, politics and entertainment; the cynicism of the entertainment industry about the intelligence of their audience.
The film is full of misunderstandings and half-spoken thoughts and desires….And yet, the real joy of the film is the moments of understanding between people.
“The time has come, I believe, to listen in silence to our own song, to try to express our own personal vision, to define our own sensibility, to make our own way. Let us learn to look, let us learn to see, let us learn to feel.”
The joy of sharing the fruits of our garden with my family in our wild and teeming summertime yard. Listening to music and talking, and feeling grateful for all of it.
She doesn’t have a voice in their presence. What we get instead is the rich, intelligent voice of her thoughts and her memories.
More and more, Pennhurst’s amazing true story is is becoming buried. I like to think my little film is helping keep it alive.
He wasn’t scared of them, but he had a feeling of powerful things and deep things. He said that we need to find a way to look at the cave paintings. Where would he start to search for this new way of looking? Everywhere.
These phantasms are concocted from a little kernel of conscience, or guilt, or fear, or loneliness. Sometimes others see them, sometimes they don’t, they’re shifting and dreamlike, and they operate according to their own rules. They’re unreliable narrators. They’re wise or foolish, in turn; they speak in riddles, they speak a questionable truth, changing and suspect, like all truths.
An art exhibit comes to rest in an abandoned New Jersey Neighborhood
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