Cataract by Daniel von Sturmer
A basketball is thrown against concrete, a teddy bear bounces on a trampoline, ants shuffle on the ground, fireworks shoot into the sky. Across 81 screens at Anna Schwartz Gallery, you’ll find 81 contained and completely unremarkable short films, each a few seconds long. Some are staged, some are caught in the moment, and none are cinematically realised. They’re all plainly shot on an iPhone, and with all the screens laid out in a huge grid, it looks like an Instagram profile writ large.
The mundane images loop, sync up and interact in unpredictable ways.
With no context or explanation, your eyes drift toward the more mysterious images: rain through the glare of a street light, ink blots on a page, hazard tape blowing in the wind. The brain curates a little show within the cacophony.
Upstairs, a light dances across the wall. Then it’s a straight line, cut up by the uneven ceiling, by a hanging power cable, by the shape of the door. The room is completely empty except for a little knee-heigh robot swinging around in the corner, projecting sequences of light.