Four Chambers

An exploration in narcissistic desire, a kind of autoeroticopsis in being the subject of desire for yourself.

Why do we like to be called Mommy? The archetype of mother looms over us across cultures, it’s powerful and ubiquitous so it’s unsurprising that it can show up in our sexual psyches.

The thiasus, was the ecstatic retinue of Dionysus.

You're watching everything pass you by but you're separated, removed from the outside world by a pane of glass, sealed in your own private reality. Time moves differently inside. You're able to observe and be observed by other drivers that pass but you're each just watching from inside your own tiny parallel universes. Surrounded by these endlessly travelling lights and shadows, ghosts of the outside creeping in. Inside a moving prism of glass and mirrors reflecting cycling scattered images from another time and another place.

There's something so special about adult films pre internet digitization, VHS tapes copied and circulated in your community, mailing lists and screening parties and brown paper bags were the distribution model. The intimate privacy of a time capsule contained in a black plastic film cartridge, hidden in the back of a drawer, labelled as something inconspicuous so as not to arouse suspicion - hidden treasure.

The intersection of Femininity and The Grotesque, when femme-ness, glamour, glitter is exaggerated to the point of excess, stomach-turning glistening, gluttonous, grossness. Gorgeous with emphasis on the gorge.

This is an exploration of screens and how they translate the visceral flesh of sex and bodies and what that now means today in an age of digital pornography. In short, fuck being reduced to 'muse' - in art, in porn, in life, whatever.

A Botticelli made flesh, two artist’s models in the studio sitting for a painting, laid out in the sun. Marble statues draped in sheets, wetness and warm summer air, gold, green grass on skin, the hum of insects.

The process of turning base material into gold, the philosophers stone. A metaphor for the way certain acts and bodily materials are treated as obscene and base and how powerfully transcendent they can be transforming them into elixir, into gold, something precious.

Flux is the conduit for transference of energy.

Set in the 1600s, a group of women are filled with an uncontrollable desire to run, touch, and tear themselves apart

Transgression in the form of unyielding bodies melding together and the rebirth of self it causes

Hazy, dreamy, breathlessness. Gasping, exhaling.

Softness and wetness and opening yourself up. About consuming and feeding, being merged and joined. One consuming the other, both folding into each other, temporarily one.

Sleep is such a vulnerable state, it requires a complete letting go of control. Slipping out of waking consciousness into another world. A world controlled by an unpredictable subconscious that loves to play tricks on you. Watching someone fall asleep is to see them move through different states of being, exposed and unaware.

It’s about the pull, the draw, of the visceral sensation, the gravitational pull towards the centre of the black hole. So potent that it’s magnetism has an effect even when it’s not necessarily you engaged in the physical action. The call of the void.

Sex 'fuses' bodies, entering, penetrating, consuming, holding, manipulating physical forms to remove any space left between us, pushing through spacial boundaries to experience an intense and vulnerable closeness and combination. 'Fuse' also references electricity, electrical currents and overload, whereas Carolee Schneemann shot her film Fuses in 1967 on analog 16mm celluloid we make films, fuck and communicate using digital, electronic devices, currents flowing across continents onto screens - now more than ever in the wake of the pandemic. A film made in lockdown isolation that honoured the potential future collaborations missed and explored new ways to fuse and fuck across distances. Bodies projected over and merging, the light from them captured through lenses into binary, transmitted across distances into shimmering pixels on screens thrown in beams of light onto and into another body.

Indulgence in it's first form

Exploring porn performer Carmina's complex relationship to her Mexican/French heritage saturated in Christian iconography and ideas of purity and what it means to be a “good girl” Her upbringing merged with the culture of her porn community and her bisexuality to explore what it means to exist simultaneously in those spaces, without feeling like you totally fit into any. Shame and sex and freedom and acceptance in the shadow of the history, iconography and symbols that have surrounded her her whole life.

It wasn't night and it wasn't day, but some lurid third interval that had suddenly slipped between them and would never end.