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"IS A JUKEBOX SADDER THAN A COFFIN?"
Using motel postcard and rapidly cut images -- decoding depth perception and creating a kind of faux 3D -- a shimmering neuro-eye-music -- the image buckles and convulses in an invented historical storm. The long vanished people in the film's motel rooms are present in the eternal now of cinema. Since so many of the motel postcards are over 20 year old -- going back in time is always sad and beautiful. When I look at the images of motel beds, neon signs, and haunted rooms, the piece always makes me think of a Susan Sontag's line about Robert Frank's photos in "The Americans." "Is a jukebox sadder than a coffin?"
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