Videospread goes on air!

Videospread is happy to present «Television Schizophrenia», in collaboration with Danish artist group TV-TV. The program will be broadcasted on Kanal Kobenhavn (Copenhagen, Denmark) September 26th 2007 at 11pm.


The program presented at this occasion is based on the thematics of cinema and television series, and questions the influence that televison has had on our culture, the ambivalent relationship we (us spectators) have (created) with the object and its content.

The artworks of Guillaume Paris, Fabrice Reymond, Virginie Yassef and in Bonus Julie Sorin, invite us to view strangely familiar images in a new perspective…

Image drift

It is said that it was in the Surrealists habits of walking into cinemas at random, sitting down, watching a few minutes of the film being screened and suddenly moving-on to another movie theatre; they would then walk-about in the streets of Paris guided by the only feeling of freedom, just as if the movie had been a moment in reality amongst others. Of course, what fascinated them in cinema was neither its artistic pretensions, nor its sophisticated machinery, but rather the strange freshness of the tales it told, the absurdity of its tricks and technique, and most of all its capacity of reconstructing mechanically the banality of life. As an awakened dream, cinema came to reveal the irrationality of mankind, the confusion of its senses and mind, divided between the understanding of the world and its doubles.

Nowadays, much more than cinema, television has imposed itself in our lives, and the force of its images and messages has made its functioning and incoherence less and less entertaining. Television can make a spectacle of nothing; it likes to give meaning to its sets and scenes by a purposeless addition of symbols of all sorts, and to its programming by a frenetic succession of clips.  Zapping is no longer a stroll through images in a Surrealist-like mood, but rather a headlong rush, an attempt to escape their impact; caught by television’s relentless demands, we lack time or opportunities to divert its flow.

The videos broadcasted on Kanal Kobenhavn are all related to the “cinematographe’s” ancient dreams. Virginie Yassef shows written descriptions of burlesque movies scenes, Julie Sorin reviews the classic “movie kiss”- yet scandalous at its first appearance on a screen -, Guillaume Paris re-interprets experimental and abstract cinema and Fabrice Reymond’s “cinéma générique” recalls by its “amateur” quality, the Lumière operators’ first magical takes or Georges Melies’ short films.
Silent, somewhat unspectacular, otherwise abstract, in an extreme slow motion, acceleration or jolt, they do not respect the logic of television standards but revive a slight feeling of madness, which is precisely what the Surrealists appreciated in moving images. It is a particular way of pointing out ordinary things, of putting into light the nondescript, of monumentalizing daily life – without having the pretension of adding meaning artificially or superimposing significance. Guillaume Paris, by exaggerating the hypnotic effects of the screen, and Fabrice Reymond when filming a buoy suddenly appearing as a sunset on the sea, free their images from television economics. While watching Virginie Yassef’s verbal descriptions of burlesque misunderstandings and re-appropriation of objects, slowly appears the distance to be taking with the screen: alike Buster Keaton or Charlie Chaplin at odds with the industrial world, alike the Surrealists laughing at the silver screen, it is our turn to counteract the importance of television, to find unexpected ways to watch it, to consider it with detachment.

Benjamin Thorel