u n r e m e m b e r i n g video/audio installation
This was not the video I had intended to make. But lost in contemplation, running through my original intention one bright blustery Sunday morning, my thought processes were interrupted by an overheard conversation. Bamboo, sunlight and a stiff south easterly were vociferously conversing on the wall in my hall. I filmed it. I then filmed directly back out through the window into the dazzling sunlight piercing and bursting through the bamboo overloading the sensors in my camera. The results are what you see.
What you hear developed as an idea from the sound recording I made in which there almost appeared some sense of content to the insistent whisperings between the breeze and the bamboo. Somehow, my not 'speaking the language' seemed an advantage - it made me concentrate on the poetics of the sound - the rises and falls, nuances and inflections. I asked myself a question, "is it still poetry when you don't understand the words?"
The explosive imagery felt like neurons firing in response to some redolent event - rememberings bursting to the fore. But it was the quietening as they fell back into the distance that held me. There appeared an acquiescence to these unrememberings, then an unremembering of the unrememberings and then, as if anew, a re-remembering.
1 in 6 people over the age of 80 in the UK live with dementia in one form or another. Living in a world of remembering/unremembering , input from the outside often seems like listening to a different language. However, there comes a stage of bitter sweet amnesia when not remembering not remembering enables some re-enjoyment of the poetry of life - even with no understanding of the words.