Online Projects

Kadist Video Library: Online Video Exhibitions

The Online Video Exhibition series activates a new venue for the presentation of contemporary video art. Each exhibition is organized by a different curator from around the world, and brings together artworks selected from the Kadist Video Library (KVL) and other wide-ranging video sources.



Curated by Monica Narula, artist and curator with Raqs Media Collective
Available to stream August 1 to August 31, 2019

With works by
Alexandre Arrechea
Bady Dalloul
Fang Lu
Haroon Gunn-Salie
Hayoun Kwon

Click to view full program information

A telegram (Greek tele: distant and gramma: letter) is a written message transmitted by using an electric device. These are usually transmissions of urgencies and anticipate a response. The urgencies could be of major or minor fluctuations, within the humdrum or delirium of living, making, and departing. To this belongs a sense of a halt, and a movement; a pause and a decision, a call, and a mobilization. In the five works here, we will sense distant and intimate worlds, who pull us towards themselves with an affectionate, yet disobedient embrace.

Haroon Gunn-Salie’s short film presents a series of temporary artworks by changing the ‘Zonnebloem’ road signs in central Cape Town to read ‘District Six’. Zonnebloem renamed (2013) is an attempt by Gunn-Salie to change apartheid and colonial heritage that dominates popular memory in Cape Town and South Africa through aesthetic and social intervention. A punctuation in time and place that opens both the idea of an alternate universe, as well as a different reality to the present one.

Hayoun Kwon makes an account of a Nigerian called Oscar, exiled in France, which confronts a historical and social reality with a personal and intimate testimony. The film Lack of Evidence (2011) is constructed through sequences juxtaposing different realities and then by becoming a mise en abîme of the story. The image becomes an elastic characteristic memory and recalls the process of reconstitution. From another perspective, this film questions what constitutes proof and whether this artistic reconstitution of a traumatic event could be used as evidence—whether art can even have an “objective” dimension.

Fang Lu films inside an abandoned museum, creating a scenario where instructed actors gesturally mime scenes from news and journalistic images outside China. No World (2014) points to the changing roles of the camera from a device originally invented to memorialize a moment, to a tool that situationally creates an event. The performance of violence, conflicts, and human relationships in the confined space blurs the boundary between the gallery and everyday life, between staged performance and documentary footage. It also opens the question of what it is that the next generation sees in its relation with the technologically mediated ‘event’.

In Scrapbook (2015), Bady Dalloul writes a letter to the viewer, imploring the witnessing of what we assume, but cannot know. In Hiroshima, Dalloul came across the story of Sadako, a young girl who suffered from leukemia as a result of the atomic bomb dropped on the city on August 6, 1945. While dying, she recalled the ancient legend that a person who makes a thousand origami cranes will have their greatest wish granted. Placed between the origami on yellowed pages in the scrapbook that makes the skin of the film, are texts and images combining reality and fantasy as they address questions of war, and political, military, and economic decisions, and their impact on the fate of individuals.

And, finally, in Alexandre Arrechea’s work White Corner (2006) he seems to be unwittingly attacking himself, a poignant comment on fear and the failure to recognize similarity in “otherness”.

All these works ask of us not for a simple withdrawal into introspection, but an awareness of the corners and edges of our slowly moving world. It is up to us—then—how we plan to respond.

—Monica Narula

Artwork Details
Haroon Gunn-Salie, Zonnebloem Renamed, 2013
Single channel video, 1:30 minutes
Courtesy of the artist, KADIST collection

Hayoun Kwon, Lack of Evidence, 2011
Single channel video, 9:20 minutes
Courtesy of the artist, KADIST collection

Fang Lu, No World, 2014
Single channel video, 18 minutes
Courtesy of the artist, KADIST collection

Bady Dalloul, Scrapbook, 2015
Single channel video, 48 minutes
Courtesy of the artist, KADIST collection

Alexandre Arrechea, White Corner, 2006
Single channel video, 8 minutes
Courtesy of the artist, KADIST collection

About the Curator
Monica Narula is an artist and curator with Raqs Media Collective. She formed Raqs in 1992 with Jeebesh Bagchi and Shuddhabrata Sengupta. The word ‘raqs’ in several languages denotes an intensification of awareness and presence attained by whirling, turning, being in a state of revolution. Raqs Media Collective takes this sense of ‘kinetic contemplation’ and a restless and energetic entanglement with the world and with time. The members of Raqs Media Collective live and work in New Delhi, India.


Cosmic Mumbo Jumbo

Curated by Erin Christovale
Available to stream June 29 to July 29, 2019

With works by
Adah Glenn (aka AfroPuff™)
Danielle Dean
Dineo Seshee Bopape

Click to view full program information

“I had no systematic way of learning but proceeded like a quilt maker, a patch of knowledge here a patch there but lovingly knitted. I would hungrily devour the intellectual scraps and leftovers of the learned.”
Ishmael Reed, Mumbo Jumbo

Cosmic Mumbo Jumbo was a public access television show that aired in Los Angeles from 1997-2007. Produced by Adah Glenn (AfroPuff productions) at Time Warner Access Studios in Marina Del Rey and Hollywood, the show featured the radical musings of SnakeDoctor, an artist and philosopher based in the historically Black arts community of Leimert Park. The episodes, which totaled in seventeen, often featured SnakeDoctor in his signature top hat either flanked between his paintings of astral Black bodies swirling in adinkra symbols or pacing in front of a greenscreen mimicking the schizophrenic output of a news cycle.

Public access television, which was established by the Federal Communications Commission in the 1970’s, provided a unique space of uninterrupted mass media that was created by and for local citizens around the country. SnakeDoctor utilized this platform to critique and speak on a range of topics including self-help and transformation tips, the state of Black capitalism, how to embrace the calling of being an artist, and conspiracy theories regarding politicians being replaced by aliens.

In the online program, segments of various episodes are tethered together by the animated works of artists Danielle Dean and Dineo Seshee Bopape, who employ strategies of collage and sonic interventions to comment on mental frameworks, the origins of capitalism, and object-oriented ontology. Their works act as stand-ins for commercial breaks, whose textured advertisements become ambiguous, mimicking a digital scroll of images that hide political gestures in their visual folds.

Danielle Dean’s hand-drawn animation, True Red (2016), features an amorphous red and black shoe modeled after what was marketed as the “Vampire sneaker,” released in 2003 by Nike. True Red is a part of a larger project called True Red Ruin that traces the origins of capitalism and objecthood to sites such as Elmina Castle, which was erected by the Portuguese in present-day Ghana and was a pivotal stop in the Trans-Atlantic slave trade. In the piece, The Vampire sneaker oozes of blood and oil as it shapeshifts into various objects including a castle, a Black power fist, and even a Chinese factory worker to consider the various levels of exploitation that major corporations engage in.

Dineo Seshee Bopape’s video, why do you call me when you know i can’t answer the phone (2012), named after the chorus in Joan Armatrading’s love song, The Weakness in Me, features a kaleidoscopic loop of objects ranging from scientific instruments, trashcans, rotary telephones, clocks, clipboards, and a whole host of animals. The piece begins with a large, white egg that fills the screen until it is met with a sonic rupture that produces a globe from the egg’s core, prominently featuring the continent of Africa. Bopape, whose larger practice also includes sculpture, installation, and multimedia filled environments, created this video in part as a way to respond to her father’s onset of Alzheimers and to emphasize the nonsensical relationship of language and images.

Cosmic Mumbo Jumbo presents a landscape of moving images housed in both the pursuit and historical underpinnings of the African Diaspora through various formats. The overall meditative quality of the program builds a bridge between SnakeDoctor’s lengthy monologues and the cyclic visuals of Dean and Bopape to invoke the loop, the remix, and the inherent rhythmic nature of an interconnected experience.

—Erin Christovale

Artwork Details
Adah Glenn, Cosmic Mumbo Jumbo Episode 2, 1997
Single channel video, excerpt 0:00 – 11:24, total runtime 11:24 minutes
Courtesy of Adah Glenn

Danielle Dean, True Red, 2016
Single channel video, 3:45 minutes
Courtesy of the artist, KADIST collection

Adah Glenn, Cosmic Mumbo Jumbo Episode 18, 2007
Single channel video, excerpt 0:00 – 12:52, total runtime 7:07 minutes
Courtesy of Adah Glenn

Dineo Seshee Bopape, Why do you call me when you know I can’t answer the phone, 2012
Single channel video, 10:42 minutes
Courtesy of the artist, KADIST collection

Adah Glenn, Cosmic Mumbo Jumbo Episode 1, 1997
Single channel video, excerpt 22:00 – 28:28 – TRT 6:28
Courtesy of Adah Glenn

About the Curator
Erin Christovale is co-founder of the experimental film program, Black Radical Imagination, and Associate Curator at the Hammer Museum in Los Angeles.


Prophecies for the Second Machine Age

Curated by Erika Balsom
Presented in collaboration with VIDEOCLOOP
Available to stream March 11 to May 11, 2019

With works by
Pedro Neves Marques
Nira Pereg
Mary Helena Clark
Diana Fonseca Quiñones
Beatriz Santiago Muñoz

Click to view full program information

We tend to think of violence as something fast, like the crack of a bone. In fact, it can be a wearying creep, an attrition proceeding at a pace so decelerated as to trouble apprehension. What Rob Nixon calls ‘slow violence’ poses a problem for representation, for it is neither punctual nor spectacular. Staying out of frame, it is prone to being forgotten or naturalized, even if its effects are everywhere. It defies the simple assignment of beginnings or endings. For Nixon, phenomena such as climate change and ocean acidification exemplify the ‘long dyings’ of slow violence, but the concept is one with a vast purchase, naming the temporal distention of insidious harm, the dull damaging of life that occurs not as emergency but as habit.

The five works of ‘Prophecies for the Second Machine Age’ offer imaginative responses to the problem of confronting the nonevent of prolonged injury as it occurs at the intersection of the natural and the artificial. In an era of automation and ‘smart’ machines, when rationalization triumphs and technology causes as many problems as it solves, what futures await vulnerable bodies and environments? What catastrophic pasts have they already endured? These artists turn to poetic condensation and oblique metaphor to approach these questions, cultivating mood rather than communicating information.

The programme begins in a nimbus of anxiety. In Pedro Neves Marques’ The Pudic Relation Between Machine and Plant, a mimosa pudica recoils from the sterile touch of a robot’s hand. Nira Pereg’s 67 Bows presents a horrific vision of flamingos, trapped in the sad enclosure of the Karlsruhe Zoo, dancing to the sound of gunshots in a choreography of fear. In both works, encounters between non-human life and manufactured artefacts figure as metonyms of a wider trauma that defies easy representation.

Mary Helena Clark’s Delphi Falls gestures to the conventions of narrative cinema, but the plot has been lost, leaving in its wake only chilling hints of unknown events. A varied inventory of camera movements shifts between the impossible perspectives of machine vision and the potential of an anthropomorphic gaze. In a four-minute long take near the film’s end, the pressures lurking within this mysterious world, so suffused with intimations of danger and confusion, are made manifest on a human face, culminating in a silent scream.

Diana Fonseca Quiñones’s Los Amantes proposes a moment of pause that is at once an acknowledgement of ephemerality. As two matches burn together in close-up, the elemental fascination of fire is doubled by the hallucinatory appearance of human forms, pressed against one another, bending together before final extinction. Beatriz Santiago Muñoz’s La cabeza mató a todos closes the programme with a gesture of repair. From within an enchanted night, the film casts a spell of resilience and contestation in the face of techno-imperialist domination. The title, literally ‘the head that killed everybody’, refers to a shooting star, understood in Puerto Rican mythology as a bodiless head, crossing the dark sky to signal the arrival of chaos. Here, against the machinery of war, in the heat of dance, time bends towards another future.

— Erika Balsom

Artwork Details
Pedro Neves Marques, The Pudic Relation between Machine and Plant, 2016
Single channel video, 2:30 minutes
Courtesy of the artist, KADIST collection

Nira Pereg, 67 Bows, 2006
Single channel video, 5:51 minutes
Courtesy of the artist, Braverman Gallery (Tel Aviv) and VIDEOCLOOP

Mary Helena Clark, Delphi Falls, 2017
Single channel video, 19:58 minutes
Courtesy of the artist, KADIST collection

Diana Fonseca Quiñones, Los Amantes, 2007
Single channel video, 38 seconds
Courtesy of the artist, KADIST collection

Beatriz Santiago Muñoz, La cabeza mató a todos, 2014
Single channel video, 7:30 minutes
Courtesy of the artist, KADIST collection

About the Collaboration
Prophecies for the Second Machine Age is the first in a series of collaborative curated online programs that constitute the new Kadist Video Library – VIDEOCLOOP initiative. The initiative stems from broader reflection on the different modes of distribution and circulation of the moving image in the age of digital dissemination and the Internet era. Through the engagement of internationally renowned curators, researchers and artists, the initiative provides a shared space for critique on contemporary creation and wider access to works in the KADIST video collection and LOOP’s online archive.

About the Curator
Erika Balsom is a senior lecturer in Film Studies at King’s College London, specializing in the study of the moving image in art. She is the author of Exhibiting Cinema in Contemporary Art (Amsterdam University Press, 2013) and Circulation: Art, Reproducibility, and the Moving Image (Columbia University Press, forthcoming), and the co-editor of the anthology Documentary Across Disciplines (MIT, 2016). A frequent contributor to Artforum, her work has appeared in numerous exhibition catalogues and publications including Afterall, Screen, Sight and Sound, and Cinema Journal.