before it began

2019, navajo canyon open space park, kumeyaay land
single channel video projected onto a white sheet on a clothes line

the video is shot in an open space park that is surrounded by the suburbs, or vice versa. the greenery is interrupted by telephone poles that seemingly go on for eternity and homes that disappear into the sky. the camera does not move while a subject moves in, out, and around within the field of space. the subject is small against both the space and the human presence.

the figure interacts and changes with four different versions of it’s self. the video is broken up as the subject dances and slices through the park. watching becomes intentionally jumpy and not as fluid as movements would originally go for just one of the subject’s self. the subject disappears in some instances but certainly leaves a footprint across the park.

the video is projected onto a sheet that hangs from a tweed clothesline. the sheet billows and moves within a space and the projector is covered with a welcome mat. the video becomes difficult to decipher with the uneven surface of the sheet, and thus the unmentioned perils of the suburbs, and the tiny nightmares that occur within the homes and minds that reside there. the space was never really to be claimed by individuals to reside, but yet somehow millions have done just that.

the video speaks of human presence within space, and within a space they claimed as their own. the subjects multiple standing presences interact with just as much action as the slicing presence and both are small against the daunting field that existed long before they did. even without the actual subject, the homes and endless telephone poles prove that the space is forever interrupted. the multiple self’s and uneven surface of the sheet speak to the strong roles being played and the weak mentality forced upon a presence within the suburbs. the video and topic are hung out to dry through the projection and taken out from the place that it has long been swept under the rug.






Mark