OPEN STUDIO: ARTIST-IN-RESIDENCE
JUNE 22 to JULY 26, 2019
ABOUT THE ARTIST / ANNA HAWKINS
Anna Hawkins (b. Baltimore, USA) is an artist working primarily in moving image and installation. Her recent works glean examples from the realms of art history, Youtube tutorials, fail video compilations, and horror film to examine how screens and the internet impact seeing, learning and intimate spheres of daily life. She completed a BA in Art History at the University of Pittsburgh and received an MFA from Concordia University. She has recently exhibited solo projects at Centre Clark (Montreal, CA), The Bows (Calgary, CA), the Musée d’art contemporain des Laurentides (St-Jérôme, CA), and the Art Gallery of Alberta (Edmonton, CA). Her works have been shown and screened internationally at the UCLA New Wight Biennial (Los Angeles, USA), the WRO Media Art Biennale (Wrocław, PL), LUX (London, UK), and the Rencontres Internationales Paris/Berlin. She is currently an Assistant Professor in Studio Art at MacEwan University on Treaty 6 Territory ᐊᒥᐢᑿᒌᐚᐢᑲᐦᐃᑲᐣ Amiskwacîwâskahikan/Edmonton, AB.
ARTIST PROJECT / BLUE LIGHT BLUE
"Blue Light Blue" is a 16mm film and video project that was scripted and shot in Sackville during my residency at Struts in the summer of 2019. In the work, the particular frequency of blue light that is emitted from the backlit LED screens of cellphones, tablets and laptops is cast as the antagonist in a pseudo horror film where screens masquerade as mirrors or windows or light sources, all the while surveilling us as we gaze into them.
Trailer for Blue Light Blue, 4K video and 16mm transferred to digital, 00:15:19, 2021
Soundtrack by Anna Hawkins and Collin Johanson
QUOTIDIAN / TEXT BY GEORDIE MILLER
at feverish intervals. what is this sickness, this paroxysm? daylight
all night long. the song of the taxidermized sparrow now belongs
to those who listen in different frequencies. to be busy being more
present in the future. these intimacies with catastrophe. break the
spell of countless sentinels. candles reduce themselves to lessons on
appearance and essence. the poplar branches are a cracked mirror.
curtains of smoke hanging on 500 million years of buried sunshine. a
bowl of delicious dislocation. chopped up in abstraction. a patchwork
of jagged, broken states of attending. who took your time? but you must
recall the last unmediated dusk. the neighborhood band played that
union city tune. words in air drifting across the front lawn where
you’d assembled yourselves. tunnel to the other side. you were a crowd
of one, eyeballs on the sky. on the edge of town. inside the best view.
when we’re still feeling sentimental about darkness tell us that story
set somewhere they’d never seen any stars. on a planet with six suns.
the terror of an eclipse. the madness of mistaken annihilation. how
does it end again? don’t look it up. you can stay here, unrenounced.
hundreds of millions of individuals precipitously began spending many hours
of every day and night sitting, more or less stationary, in close proximity to
flickering, light-emitting objects. fettered not tethered. more of the same
-ness. attention attention, leashes unceasing. all the simulation leaves
out is the thisness. this unfinished bone-house. this tangerine peel a
rope swing. this dragonfly guides you through the glitches. lamp
smashers out-of-time you toss rocks at the gallows, aiming for the
head. no one else to demand the night. an army of shadows will never
be defeated. stalking the property relations, blocking the road.
tangled up in suburban macabre. the sidewalk a belt of gravestones.
unmarked is the opposite of exist. non-consensual continuity. the one
where you’re alone together without warning on the high dyke
behind the industrial park, barefoot. that path between the hay fields
and the riverbed. what’s coming for you is coming for you, the long
grasses clamouring. it’s too late to say. we must not be dreaming.
—with additional words by Richard Seymour, Debbie Harry, and Jonathan Crary.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR / GEORDIE MILLER
Geordie Miller is a poet who dreams of a world without wages.
STUDIO VIEWS /
STILLS / BLUE LIGHT BLUE