Friederike Pezold

A woman, whose origin and destination are unknown, walks from morning until evening through the streets, going past the crazy things of life (from the modernization of the data processing of dogs to the rationalization of the length of spaghetti), and she needs a macabre sense of humor to stand everything she sees. The daily passage of one absurdity after the other.

Pezold is quite serious when she calls for a revolution of the eyes. In our depressingly digital day-in day-out, we have unlearned how to see; we merely register a restless flow of data. But looking, watching means something else: it means appreciating what's in front of us, taking the time to let a presence unfold its meaning(s). Quietness helps. And so, with Revolution der Augen, we are invited to return to the origins of cinema and its initial promises, with the experience and knowledge gained through all kinds of media over some six score years. It's tabula rasa time!

A young woman is fed up with the usual consumer's television and begins to make her own television, or more correctly, closevision. She is now a reporter who wanders around Berlin with her camera and 'telecasting apparatus' on her back. Her livingroom has been transformed into a studio and here the different programs are assembled and aired: statements, interviews, realistic and phantastic programs.

With a video camera, the filmmaker observes piece by piece her body, its forms, movements and sounds. In shots with the forcefulness of graphics, the viewer willing to do so can experience seeing and hearing anew and discover adventure in the everyday.

A series of six, roughly ten minute body art videos - selected from an original twelve - produced by Friederike Pezold between 1973 and 1977, and originally shown as an installation in 1977. Each video features a part of Pezold's body up close in black-and-white, slowly moved and molded over the runtime.

We all know this unbearable feeling when our work is treated like dirt by some fool, for remarks of fools are nothing but dirt, but still they make us furious like hell and we are paralyzed by anger which we try to conceal from othersm so this anger goes round and round in our heads: "The Hidden Labyrinth of Horror"