Christine Lucy Latimer

The transparent, holographic portions from Canadian dollar bills are contact printed on to 16mm film. A cameraless, dizzying closer look at the monarch, maple leaves and colonial structures that secure and validate our legal tender.

"Years ago, my mother sold her house in Woodstock, Ontario. Hundreds of high dynamic range digital photos were taken to provide to the real estate agent for the online sale listing. The images were left on an SD card that was strangely stored and subject to firmware incompatibility (or some other manner of environmental degradation). Disassembling each damaged, barely-there high dynamic range photo into its light and dark component parts, I built a VHS cascade of house pieces (never quite reconstituting what was). " –C.L.L.

"Years ago, my mother sold her house in Woodstock, Ontario. Hundreds of high dynamic range digital photos were taken to provide to the real estate agent for the online sale listing. The images were left on an SD card that was strangely stored and subject to firmware incompatibility (or some other manner of environmental degradation). Disassembling each damaged, barely-there high dynamic range photo into its light and dark component parts, I built a VHS cascade of house pieces (never quite reconstituting what was). " –C.L.L.

Biografía de Harry Alan Potamkin

This film rephotographs over 200 internet-sourced images of ‘Macbeth ColorChecker’ cards on to super-8mm cyanotype emulsion. Macbeth Cards (precision tools in colour film processing), were a popular accessory for small-gauge Kodachrome filmmakers in the 1970's. They have since been re-adopted by contemporary digital photographers, who use them to compare lighting scenarios on internet blogs and forums. Tracing the history of the colour calibration card through many lenses, I effectively remove all colours, save one.

A durational feedback-variation study using a found VHS banjo lesson cycled through a (mostly broken) betamax deck. A distorted hearkening to the various 'lessons' of youth combines with inquiries surrounding learning, training and the mastery of a medium. The project’s length and pacing simulates that of a childhood music lesson: 40 minutes that feel like a lifetime. (The project title is a notation taken from banjo music tablature, denoting that a C chord is played with fingers on the 2nd, open, 1st and 3rd frets of the instrument).

This hybrid project uses a cell-phone to document a series of colour plate advertisements from The 1957 Photographer's Almanac. The footage is then transferred to 16mm film, presenting the advertised technologies of 1957 (coincidentally, the first year a digital image was ever generated) through simultaneous analog and digital lenses. History is collapsed in a comment on the changing terminologies of lens-based practice. (The film's title is taken from the title of an essay appearing in the Almanac, authored by its collected editors).

Cell-phone video footage of exploding fireworks is processed and extended through a series of VHS feedback loops. What was once a momentary blast becomes drawn out in time, emphasizing the beauty of pyrotechnic light, while juxtaposing analog and digital video artifacts.

A simultaneous low-definition/ high-definition spastic depiction of an attempted journey to the beach on my sister's birthday. Windshield wipers punctuate and jump-cut our rapid movement through white-knuckle moments of abstraction.

Two found companion 16mm film prints (salvaged from the garbage at the National Film Board of Canada) are simultaneously reunited in a coda to their original composition. The image is worked in multiple generations through betamax and VHS tape decks to weave threads of video artifact into the celluloid fabric.

A video that electronically twists the fates of witches, monkeys, apparitions and conjoined bald men. Created with found VHS footage.

1950s, 16mm swimmers dive unknowingly into video-infested waters…

This film seals under perforated 16mm splicing tape all of the fruit flies that drowned in the vinegar trap on my kitchen counter last summer.

Using glue and 16mm splicing tape, I place over 1500 individual super 8 film frames from a decimated home movie one-by-one on to clear 16mm film. The resulting floating film-within-a-film becomes a jarring landscape that prioritizes the structure of the super 8 frame over its photographic contents.

This film and video hybrid depicts a rainbow digital apocalypse looming directly outside a floating cinema entrance-way.

This film uses video footage captured from the surgeon’s microscope during Latimer's father’s laser eye surgery. The footage is transferred to16mm colour film negative, printed, edge-fogged and brown-toned. Clinical and impersonal video documentation transforms into an intimate hand-made celluloid exchange with Latimer's father’s watchful yet un-watching eye.

This hybrid film/video uses a toy pixelvision camera to document a dual-projection of a found 16mm film and a liquid light array. The 16mm film was salvaged from a mutoscope, a turn-of-the-century device outfitted with an eyepiece in a (sometimes coin-operated) mechanical cabinet that enables a viewer to have a private film-watching experience. The footage, shot in the home, is of a late-1940's woman undressing slowly for the camera (and its operator). Between found film, the perpetual movement of abstract light, the degraded pixelvision image and the particularities of documented 1940's female sexuality, these juxtaposed projections move through a panoply of interpretations surrounding resurrection and decay.

VHS footage of a digitally scrambled cable TV kickboxing fight is transferred to 16mm B & W film negative and printed by hand. Digital interference foregrounds and destroys the representational action, creating a rhythmic, abstract tonal landscape.