A film projection shows a woman sitting by the water. In “her back” is the shadow of a female figure who conjures radiant golden clouds of dots and balls of lines into the frame with her hands and is even able to blot it out. The magical trailer for the “Tricky Women” festival was made by manually editing the image and sound sequences recorded by Moïa Jobin-Paré when she was artist-in-residence in Vienna.

Rectangular shapes in luminous colours proliferate in a black void. They resemble phosphenes, the subjective perceptions of lights that can appear when we rub our closed eyelids. Coloured round surfaces circle each other, even though they live in separate graphic worlds. Lillian Schwartz, pioneer of computer animation, uses the EXPLOR 2D programming language to simulate strange and fantastic galaxies.

The aeroplanes are stationary, nothing moves, nothing takes off at the US military airbase in Arizona – until a young woman in a white dress begins to jump on a trampoline outside the fence, framed by an idyllic sunset. She conveys her story from the silent offscreen – only through subtitles. Having come from Saudi Arabia, she is stuck in the US because her father stole her identity papers. So homesick that she is considering drastic measures to get back home, she almost enlists in the military. But the US Army is suspicious and would not station her, a risk factor, anywhere near the Middle East. But there is a Baghdad in Arizona, too …
Artist Samar Al Summary’s work is an investigation into systems of power. She does not only talk about herself, the prejudices and obstacles she faces as a Saudi woman, but also about the crash of two Iraqi air force pilots who were to be trained by the US Air Force but never made it home either. In her dramatically condensed film essay, she takes up the symbolic fight – both against gravity, which she can at least temporarily defy by using cinematic means, and against patriarchy. The latter, however, is not so easy to fight.

An Athenian filmmaker is struggling with insomnia and seeks help from a tarot reader. She says that when she does manage to sleep, her dreams are strange, she dreams of her childhood apartment, where everyone has turned to stone. Yet such surreal thoughts hardly sound outlandish given the current state of Greece: petrified monuments to past glories as far as the eye can see, even as any sort of movement in the present has slowed to a standstill. She sets out to understand this curious paradox, dipping into literature, fiction and documentary to do so, disparate elements given unity by playfulness, political sensibility and shimmering celluloid.
Conversations with locals on the streets of the Greek capital about the nature of statues; the 1944 manifesto by poet Yorgos Makris that proposed blowing up the Parthenon and the groupuscule that now seeks to complete his work; the story of the political prisoners forced to rebuild the same monument in miniature; a rogue Caryatid now discovering love. Such times are hard to make sense of, whether in Greece or beyond, and perhaps there is only one way to proceed, to move forward, to live: everything bit by bit. “When will we gather the world together piece by piece?”

A Soviet figure skater, a female Yugoslav sex partisan, a Vietnam veteran, Father Stalin and the Austro-American orgasm researcher Wilhelm Reich rumble in the belly of this film. Some people believe that Dušan Makavejev invented subversion in the first place. He exploited the gaps of freedom in the Yugoslav brand of socialism and developed an exceptional cinematic model which irritated both the dos and don’ts of the medium as well as those of political unambiguousness. The Western world was amused by this collage of feature, documentary and sexual education that transgressed all boundaries of ideology and modesty, but the tolerance of the Yugoslav censorship authorities was overstrained – at least temporarily. The 1971 screening ban was lifted in 1986. In 1988, Makavejev returned to Yugoslavia from the West.

Powerful poetry in image, word and sound – Max Ferguson’s work is a rough diamond that testifies to an emotional, unpolished force and whose light is refracted in many colours. Mixing elements from photography, painting and collage with short video sequences, Ferguson finds strong verbal and visual images to mark the tipping point between physical desire and emotional violation.
Rough aesthetics and a gloomy atmosphere reminiscent of early underground films are combined with extreme delicacy and a constantly alert, almost animalistic curiosity. They manifest a very contemporary female self-image. The balancing act between pain and self-respect takes place in a sound cosmos of electronic thunder and nervous buzzing. While the brawny truck cannot leave its lane, the deer follows its instinct and finds a (new) way, even if it must learn from the wolf.

At first everything in this music video by the London duo Sculpture is two-dimensional. But better duck down while watching! On intricately composed levels of space, graphic elements whiz wildly past your eyes and broken beats whistle violently past your ears. Zyprazol is medicinal, a mind-expanding drug – just like the animation records made by Sculpture.