Leevi Pienihäkkinen
Leevi Pienihäkkinen
Leevi Pienihäkkinen’s tight experimental short documentary Peace and Silence dives into the Helsinki night, exploring the darkened city with fresh eyes. The familiar spots of the city centre flash in the images, but something is different. The everyday becomes weird, details…
Leevi Pienihäkkinen

In the summer of 1900, the first film camera was purchased by Mozaffar ad-Din Shah Qajar for Iran, and immediately the first Iranian moving images were captured by this camera. These images, in an obsessive manner, have embodied the mesmerized gaze of people. In the span of 79 years since the purchase of this camera, Iran has undergone two revolutions and two coups, and throughout all these moments, the camera has been present as the recorder of people's mesmerized gazes. These mesmerized gazes are in a way as if they are the ones looking at us, not the other way around. It seems like these gazes are trying to convey something, but what? No one knows. Now, we gaze at those who have gazed at us from a distant time.

"Slaughter" is an experimental short film that delves into the archival and historical footage of the Iranian Revolution in 1979, depicting a symbolic narrative surrounding the ritualistic act of animal sacrifice, known as "Besmel." It serves as an allegorical representation of a nation's sacrifice amidst the backdrop of political transformations.

Latest installment from the on-going collaboration between filmmaker Paul Clipson & musician Jefre Cantu-Ledesma. Paul's Super8 films, shot entirely in New York City, channel the blissed out states of color drenched psychadellia explored by Brakage as well as lovely black and white still life's that reminisce on Ozu's 'pillow shots' & Chantel Akermans monumental portrait of Pre-Giuliani New York 'Letters Home'. Jefre's music is culled from the same sessions that launched his 2007 release on Students Of Decay 'Shinning Skull Breath', (the two share a track in common). Billowy clouds of distorted guitar expand out into long passages of muffled static and fuzzed out melody.

Every winter, a small town in Castilla-La Mancha called Luzón transforms into a little hell. Its inhabitants, dressed as devils, venture into the darkness and roam its streets with horns, bells, and smeared with soot. Una dança non sancta could have been just an anthropological documentary. Instead, it delves into the inferno with the town’s residents to participate in and immortalize this unholy ritual.