Lost dreams is made out of those little remnants of images,from a single glance to a detailed moment, of those women from youth’s love and young dreams. They are woven together, like fragments of the mind, and from the ends of film to the corners of the frame, into a memory of them. They are once again embraced and, if only briefly, poetically honoured. Read More »
Intoxicated by My Illness (in which images photographed by several people are extensively superimposed) loosely and dreamily tracks a phase in Dwoskin’s recent life that took him from medical examination to intensive care.
Mostly it is a reverie about erotic fantasy – especially the excruciating, poignant ambiguity of bodily sensation strung out between intense pain and exquisite pleasure, between the figures of the nurse, who might be imagined as a bondage mistress, and the bondage mistress, who touches the ‘dominated’ body in the most tender way imaginable. Dwoskin periodically overlays known ‘movie music’ in order to ironically foreground his own ‘self dramatisation’, all the while drawing us into a rare and precious intimacy in extremis. Read More »
It is quite revealing how complex the simple form is. Shot one to one, a girl is confronted with nothing more than her thoughts. In the period of watching her (while she is looking at you) her expressions and movements turn into a ‘mirror’ for the viewer to experience his or herself. The experience is solely emotive between you and her, and occurs in “real” time. (Stephen Dwoskin) Read More »
A girl is attempting to seduce the beholder : the camera. A visual conveyance through material – film and paint – as the seduction progresses she becomes more covered in paint – representative of the beholder. Read More »
“My grandfather was a charming artist and he would have acted if he had had an audience. In this film, taken from family images, it is a simple pear that is the object of his panache.” Read More »
`Suddenly and sadly my dear friend Frances died. At that moment of loss I needed to hold on to her. The film is just that.’ Read More »
‘An ode to my father, and perhaps to all fathers. Called a “moving painting” by my sister, the film blends found family footage of the young and the ageing father. It takes the tiny gestures of daily life and turns them into the monumental moments of tenderness and respect.’ Read More »