Jennifer Juniper Stratford
Director
In some ways Lost in Linear Valley is a tech-demo gone wonderfully wrong. JJ Stratford’s formal exploration of the LZX Video Synthesizer and the Fairlight Computer Video Instrument (CVI) resulted in a suite of 10 short experimental videos questioning obsolescence and early video aesthetics. At first glance, one could mistakenly take this work to be a study of dead-media fetishism. However, one watches this suite unfold into a delicate investigation of the limits of technology, and the potential those limits enable. Through the use of preset wipes and crude RGB color palettes, Stratford uncovers hidden potential in what otherwise would be considered a long-outmoded device for creative expression. In doing so, the typical subversive gesture of using obsolete technology that occurs within contemporary art is supplanted by an earnest exploration into a crucial link between early video aesthetics and current technologically inflected imagery.
Director
In some ways Lost in Linear Valley is a tech-demo gone wonderfully wrong. JJ Stratford’s formal exploration of the LZX Video Synthesizer and the Fairlight Computer Video Instrument (CVI) resulted in a suite of 10 short experimental videos questioning obsolescence and early video aesthetics. At first glance, one could mistakenly take this work to be a study of dead-media fetishism. However, one watches this suite unfold into a delicate investigation of the limits of technology, and the potential those limits enable. Through the use of preset wipes and crude RGB color palettes, Stratford uncovers hidden potential in what otherwise would be considered a long-outmoded device for creative expression. In doing so, the typical subversive gesture of using obsolete technology that occurs within contemporary art is supplanted by an earnest exploration into a crucial link between early video aesthetics and current technologically inflected imagery.
Director
In some ways Lost in Linear Valley is a tech-demo gone wonderfully wrong. JJ Stratford’s formal exploration of the LZX Video Synthesizer and the Fairlight Computer Video Instrument (CVI) resulted in a suite of 10 short experimental videos questioning obsolescence and early video aesthetics. At first glance, one could mistakenly take this work to be a study of dead-media fetishism. However, one watches this suite unfold into a delicate investigation of the limits of technology, and the potential those limits enable. Through the use of preset wipes and crude RGB color palettes, Stratford uncovers hidden potential in what otherwise would be considered a long-outmoded device for creative expression. In doing so, the typical subversive gesture of using obsolete technology that occurs within contemporary art is supplanted by an earnest exploration into a crucial link between early video aesthetics and current technologically inflected imagery.
Director
In some ways Lost in Linear Valley is a tech-demo gone wonderfully wrong. JJ Stratford’s formal exploration of the LZX Video Synthesizer and the Fairlight Computer Video Instrument (CVI) resulted in a suite of 10 short experimental videos questioning obsolescence and early video aesthetics. At first glance, one could mistakenly take this work to be a study of dead-media fetishism. However, one watches this suite unfold into a delicate investigation of the limits of technology, and the potential those limits enable. Through the use of preset wipes and crude RGB color palettes, Stratford uncovers hidden potential in what otherwise would be considered a long-outmoded device for creative expression. In doing so, the typical subversive gesture of using obsolete technology that occurs within contemporary art is supplanted by an earnest exploration into a crucial link between early video aesthetics and current technologically inflected imagery.
Director
In some ways Lost in Linear Valley is a tech-demo gone wonderfully wrong. JJ Stratford’s formal exploration of the LZX Video Synthesizer and the Fairlight Computer Video Instrument (CVI) resulted in a suite of 10 short experimental videos questioning obsolescence and early video aesthetics. At first glance, one could mistakenly take this work to be a study of dead-media fetishism. However, one watches this suite unfold into a delicate investigation of the limits of technology, and the potential those limits enable. Through the use of preset wipes and crude RGB color palettes, Stratford uncovers hidden potential in what otherwise would be considered a long-outmoded device for creative expression. In doing so, the typical subversive gesture of using obsolete technology that occurs within contemporary art is supplanted by an earnest exploration into a crucial link between early video aesthetics and current technologically inflected imagery.
Music
The pineal gland — otherwise known as the “third eye” — has long been considered a centre for navigation, and helps to maintain the body’s circadian rhythms. In JJ Stratford’s “Worry Is A Horizontal”, which was created using her custom software The Pineal Paintbrush, a resonance wave stimulates an affected person’s pineal gland, providing a transdimensional rendering of existence outside the scope of accepted reality.
Director
The pineal gland — otherwise known as the “third eye” — has long been considered a centre for navigation, and helps to maintain the body’s circadian rhythms. In JJ Stratford’s “Worry Is A Horizontal”, which was created using her custom software The Pineal Paintbrush, a resonance wave stimulates an affected person’s pineal gland, providing a transdimensional rendering of existence outside the scope of accepted reality.
Director
Field recordings are interpreted through various analog experiments until a synergy is formed between the two mediums. This video in particular experiments with the stillness in video and the halfway point between a photograph and the moving image as well as real time painting with the use of an electronic paintbrush.
Director
Sound : Sun An
Video: JJ Stratford
Director of Photography
Award-winning actress and filmmaker Chloë Sevigny returns to the director’s chair bringing her own instinctual depth and glamor to the short film Lypsinka: Toxic Femininity, a singular work centering around downtown legend Lypsinka, the surrealist and iconic stage creation of John Epperson. Inhabiting the words of Hollywood icons from Judy Garland to Joan Crawford trapped in an airless world of old-fashioned TV glamor, Lypsinka guides us through her fever dream as she grapples with her psyche as a celebrity.