Motions takes human trafficking and contemporary slavery as its focus. Human trafficking is an accelerating form of crime and is a world-wide problem. It is one of the darker outcomes of globalization, the breakdown of the nation-state, and increasing ease of travel.
Static and moving, variable and sequential, the piece presents programmed text, image and music fragments to evoke the subjective experience of enslavement in motion. No single ‘page’ is ever the same, but the work moves forward with a linear progression.
the project is on the web at: http://taylorstreetstudio.com/motions/
written, designed and coded by Will Luers
An insomniac writer moves to a small coastal town to investigate the work and disappearance of a cult web artist. Like the subject of his research, he can leave nothing outside the narrative: lists, blog entries, mobile photos, loops, and draft sketches of stories.
This multimedia fiction, in which no single page is ever the same, explores the liminality of the “web book” as a space between abundance and loss, novelty and familiarity, integration and dispersion.
by Will Luers (video) and Roger Dean (sound)
2013 | 6min
Hypnagogia is a state between wakefulness and sleep, in which dream-like impressions may cross the mind.
The video was constructed specifically for the live performance by austraLYSIS (an ensemble of trumpet, piano, and live electronics) at the Sydney Conservatorium of Music on November 30th , 2013.
Film of Sound, my collaboration with sound artist Roger Dean and poet Hazel Smith will play at the Experimental Film Festival Portland 2013, a small, but enthusiastic fest in my hometown. The screening night is Friday May 24th at the Clinton Street Theater.
Film of Sound
10 minute, single channel video
Artists: Roger Dean, Will Luers and Hazel Smith
an australLYSIS commission
Film of Sound is a semiotic surface, a skin of image and text on the body of sound. Constructed out of collaborative, indeterminate and remix processes, layers and juxtapositions of disparate media hint at a narrative trajectory — a sleeping man, an evening in a hotel room, and a journey across vast and challenging spaces. But the incipient narrative constantly breaks down into disordered memories of violence and repression, undefined threats, splintered subjectivities, analog and digital glitches.
The reason to read Autoportrait is to savor the shocking precision—a guillotine’s—of its rapid cuts between unlike ideas, and to savor the actual information offered about the textures and peculiarities of a specific consciousness.
“Parataxis” : the juxtaposition of two or more sentences without a conjunction.
“I came. I saw. I conquered.” is a common example of a paratactic statement. A list of events, where the missing “then” is supplied by the reader/listener. By removing the conjunction, the swiftness, ease and shock of the sequence comes alive.
Cinema editing is naturally paratactic. Continuity (or discontinuity) is worked out spatially with lines of action, graphic matches/contrasts. For example, a cut from night to day is paratactic code for: “the next day.” But there is another kind of literary/cinematic parataxis. The listing of items–objects, thoughts or events–without regard to narrative conjunction. The art of Whitman, Joyce, Stein, Beckett; of Perec, Barthes, Ruiz, Ashbery, Brainard. More recently in the work of David Markson, Édouard Levé, Diane Williams, Laird Hunt and Danielle Dutton.
In the past months, I have been writing about plot and database narrative for an upcoming paper; wondering if it is possible to have a narrative without temporal conjunction: this happened, then this happend.
I have been inspired by Danielle Dutton’s SPRAWL. Not exactly stream of consciousness, the work is more of an interface to the material and thought stuff in the life of suburban woman. There is no development, no hierarchy. The words themselves sprawl across justified, non-breaking pages. If there is an implied conjunction, it is the word “and. ” Everything is equal to everything else. Pleasure, wonder, ache, sadness comes through exploring the text, seeing its patterns, dipping into its flow, recognizing the strange incongruities of material life, and the deep longing for the immaterial.