Dominic Angerame (b. 1949)
Deconstuction Sight (1990)

1990 | 14 minutes | B&W | SOUND

"A somber, gong-like tone opens DECONSTRUCTION SIGHT: the first image is a small light in darkness, a delicate flicker that grows to become a welder's torch. We are led into the film by a suggestive imagistic shorthand: 'the rise of man' is attended by the building of structures, and cities, a montage of the emblems of civilization. The end of the film brings a series of unnerving images - one reminiscent of an eerie jack-o-lantern from childhood memory: a skyscraper looming in the night, a bank of windows lit up like its gaping mouth. As fog and clouds rush in fast frame across the sky for a dizzying, synesthetic effect, Kevin Barnard's soundtrack pounds an urgent wail to the rhythm of climax spending itself in question, in philosophical ambiguity, not release. An almost palpable centrifugal force seems to move the final moments of the film into a spinout.

"This is history without narrative, an abstract summation of what happens when human beings move stuff around and make something of it, grow tired of what they've made and demolish it using other things they've made, and then start all over again. What we build, what we destroy, what we find useful to do both, how we let our interaction with them describe what we call human - these are some of the ideas Angerame's DECONSTRUCTION SIGHT suggests."

- From an essay by Barbara Jaspersen Voorhees, 1990