Siempre vuelvo y no voy por miedo a irme otra vez (2022)
archival home videos, bird sound, universe sound / 02:59
The video, in essence, becomes an organic blend. Using the small book as a foundation and script, the artist realized that the majority of the images described were connected to nature. This made perfect sense to her, as she understood that it is in nature where we coexist, and it was there that she shared those experiences with her grandmother. It is also the place where her grandmother now rests. For the sound in this video, the artist conducted various tests until achieving the desired result. Her aim was to create an atmosphere where the visual image and the sound were not entirely connected—something decontextualized that would generate a mysterious space. Initially, she experimented by using only the sound of birds, a recording made in the garden of her home.
This sound completely evokes nature for her, a state of absolute relaxation and contemplation. When she integrated this sound with the video, she realized something was missing. Therefore, she decided to mix it with the sounds from her family archive videos, which included family dialogues and background noise. Only these sounds, along with the birdsong, were audible. The videos of the newly created archive from this year were muted, as she considered that the images of nature required nothing more than the sound of the birds. Finally, she mixed the sound with recordings of the universe obtained from NASA.
Just as files and records crumble and decay, and computers become infected with viruses that corrupt or render archives inaccessible, so too do our memories. In a sense, all memories are forgotten. Memories are built on loss. When we remember, we rescue forgotten experiences from oblivion. They need to be rescued because they have come to an end. These experiences are complete and have been consigned to memory. (Shields, David. Reality Hunger. 2015. Chapter: "Memory," 76.)
Siempre vuelvo y no voy por miedo a irme otra vez (2022)
archival home videos, bird sound, universe sound / 02:59
The video, in essence, becomes an organic blend. Using the small book as a foundation and script, the artist realized that the majority of the images described were connected to nature. This made perfect sense to her, as she understood that it is in nature where we coexist, and it was there that she shared those experiences with her grandmother. It is also the place where her grandmother now rests. For the sound in this video, the artist conducted various tests until achieving the desired result. Her aim was to create an atmosphere where the visual image and the sound were not entirely connected—something decontextualized that would generate a mysterious space. Initially, she experimented by using only the sound of birds, a recording made in the garden of her home.
This sound completely evokes nature for her, a state of absolute relaxation and contemplation. When she integrated this sound with the video, she realized something was missing. Therefore, she decided to mix it with the sounds from her family archive videos, which included family dialogues and background noise. Only these sounds, along with the birdsong, were audible. The videos of the newly created archive from this year were muted, as she considered that the images of nature required nothing more than the sound of the birds. Finally, she mixed the sound with recordings of the universe obtained from NASA.
Just as files and records crumble and decay, and computers become infected with viruses that corrupt or render archives inaccessible, so too do our memories. In a sense, all memories are forgotten. Memories are built on loss. When we remember, we rescue forgotten experiences from oblivion. They need to be rescued because they have come to an end. These experiences are complete and have been consigned to memory. (Shields, David. Reality Hunger. 2015. Chapter: "Memory," 76.)