In-Vision Video Art Festival: a Review

This Silly Little Lady went along to a night of creative short films, by the name of In-Vision. In-Vision is a Dublin video art festival, and the brainchild of an ever-enthusiastic Sinéad Keogh. It prides itself on being a non-profit grassroots festival run by artists for artists. The night consisted of screenings of 10 short films, some of which were introduced by their creators, followed by a panel discussion and brief Q&A session. Thoroughly enjoyable, In-Vision provided a rare opportunity to experience an eclectic variety of video art on the big screen, with each of the pieces varying greatly in style, era, and content.

First in the line-up was 'Limitless' by Aoife Dunne (2016). The piece is a fusion of retrofuturism, whacky Japanese influences (think Kyary Pamyu-Pamyu videos), colourful retro fashion, and a DDR-esque gaming experience. Dunne plunges you right into a digital world where you try and try again to reach the next level, in order to convey our relentless self-criticism and continuous re-invention of self. Bold and extremely fresh, I was left not quite sure what I'd witnessed but somehow glad that I had witnessed it anyway. Check out Dunne's quirky-as-you-can-get website for an insight into that feeling (www.aoifedunne.com).

Follow this link to see Limitless: https://vimeo.com/173543163

All was not so original as Dunne's work though, unfortunately. Into Gold (2018) by De.es had such promise being inspired by DreamTigers (Jorge Luis Borges) and its incredible descriptions of

a mirror as an 'impossible space of reflections' which 'prolongs the world' where 'everything happens and nothing is recorded'. However, the video consisted mostly of the much over-used imagery of a fairy-like woman (long hair, white dress - the works) wandering through a forest (because that's never been done before) carrying a mirror. 

Laura Spark's piece Cygnus (2016) proved to be atmospheric and evocative. Ciana Fitzgerald's video Reprimere (2016) didn't appear to have any connection to its intended design, the private versus the public self, and meandered so far from that stream of consciousness that it lost all meaning entirely. A piece called Shedding (2018) by Ricí NíChléirigh attempted to explore the human condition using yarn, but would the idea would have been better served as performance art - the medium didn't aid the impact in any way, rather hindering it instead.

Sorcha Kenny's piece Oh, My Roads and Their Cadence (2017) was thought-provoking, portraying a woman with her dog trekking from Dublin to her grandparents old home in Roscommon, as a form of therapy. The crunch of gravel, and the awkward greetings when passing a fellow traveller evoke powerful memories of life in the Irish countryside, and waves of nostalgia within this Cavan-raised girl (me). Oh, My Roads and Their Cadence suggests that Kenny has a promising future in film-making ahead of her. A very different piece by Kurb Junki (segments from a longer film) was made up of Hi8 recordings, whacky, comical editing, and a heck of a lot of skateboarding. Entertaining and very enjoyable, the piece might have been a bit to skate-heavy for non-skaters like me. 

Another noteworthy work was None of it Matters (1999) by Pauline Cummins. This work was made in response to live coverage of the bombing of Serbia in 1999, and to the growing phenomenon of shocking news being used as a form of entertainment. Cummins questions our increasing desensitisation to the suffering of others, using clips from movies (Tarantino was well in there), a voice recording which was originally performed live, and historic footage from WWII. One startling line from the audio recording stated: "Care? I'll show you care. I took the remote and I said let's stay in tonight and watch people die". Hard-hitting, this piece highlights the apathy of contemporary society, and drags us out of our uncaring mindsets for a few short moments. Disappointly, though, Cummins didn't appear very willing to participate in discussions, practically begging Keogh to stop asking her questions. 

Breda Lynch on the other hand, maker of The Kiss (2009), was all chat, providing insightful commentary and proving very knowledgable within her field. Lynch's piece explored censorship and queer visibility in a gothic style, with the most classic approach to experimental film of the night. 

The highlight of the night was undoubtedly Johannes Gerard's piece Dark (2017). Featuring a naked dancer improvising movements, alongside her 'dark self', set to an atmospheric soundscape, the work was entirely hypnotic. Gerard delves into the secrets, worries, and sorrows we carry around every day, invisible to those around us, whilst simultaneously exploring the impact of the concepts past, present, and future on our lives. Dark stood out above the crowd in a league of its own and entranced its viewers.

Keogh curated a fascinating and deeply satisfying evening of video art, which provided viewers with a rare and wonderful opportunity to fully experience what creative film has to offer. The festival was indubitably a success, and I eagerly await its second year - we can only hope it'll be longer, even more diverse, and as inspiring.