Images of impending disaster— slamming doors, a truck careening down a hill, and a frayed, almost snapping, elevator rope— collide with the repeated image of a woman’s body, cycling toward ephemerality as the the woman disappears into the texture of the film itself. In my recent films, I have been exploring the possibilities found in merging video texture with film, creating a lush, disorienting, ambiguous film space, and an atmosphere of temporal suspension. In Terrace 49, the space is shattered further, broken into shards; as fractured as memory and as fragile as glass.
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