Customize Consent Preferences

We use cookies to help you navigate efficiently and perform certain functions. You will find detailed information about all cookies under each consent category below.

The cookies that are categorized as "Necessary" are stored on your browser as they are essential for enabling the basic functionalities of the site. ... 

Always Active

Necessary cookies are required to enable the basic features of this site, such as providing secure log-in or adjusting your consent preferences. These cookies do not store any personally identifiable data.

No cookies to display.

Functional cookies help perform certain functionalities like sharing the content of the website on social media platforms, collecting feedback, and other third-party features.

No cookies to display.

Analytical cookies are used to understand how visitors interact with the website. These cookies help provide information on metrics such as the number of visitors, bounce rate, traffic source, etc.

No cookies to display.

Performance cookies are used to understand and analyze the key performance indexes of the website which helps in delivering a better user experience for the visitors.

No cookies to display.

Advertisement cookies are used to provide visitors with customized advertisements based on the pages you visited previously and to analyze the effectiveness of the ad campaigns.

No cookies to display.

Listening to the Space in My Room

Informations

Année : 2013

Pays de production : Suisse

Durée : 19mn

Format : 16 mm

Générique

Réalisation : Robert Beavers
Image : Robert Beavers
Son : Robert Beavers
Montage : Robert Beavers

Synopsis

« Imaginez quelqu’un qui fasse bouillir toutes les sensations fugaces, les routines, les souvenirs et les émotions qui font d’un foyer un foyer, en une réduction pleine de saveurs intenses, et vous commencerez à comprendre le cinéma épatant de Beavers. Lui et ses colocataires sont cristallisés au travail : la caméra oscille au rythme des mains d’un vieil homme jouant du violoncelle, observe une vieille femme qui entretient son jardin depuis l’intérieur d’une maison sombre ; reflète Beavers lui-même qui passe en revue les photogrammes du film pour arranger ses coupes somatiques. Les pistes de son et d’image finement intercalées ne respectent aucun standard de continuité et pourtant il y a quelque chose d’immédiatement compréhensible dans ce chant exquis du corps dans l’espace. » Max Goldberg, Fandor.

“Imagine someone boiling down all the impermanent sensations, routines, memories, and emotions that make a home a home into an intensely flavourful reduction, and you begin to understand Beavers’ stunning film. He and his housemates are crystallized at work: the camera sways with the hands of an older man bowing his cello; observes an older woman tending her garden from inside the darkened house; mirrors Beavers himself examining individual frames of film to stage his somatic cuts. The intricately interlaid tracks of sound and image do not abide any standard measure of continuity, and yet there’s something immediately comprehensible in this exquisitely tuned song of the body in space.” Max Goldberg in Fandor.