Blake Williams

Flashes of Victorian domestic surfaces and geometric shadows transform the physical world into a somber, impressionistic abstraction, while elsewhere a spectre emerging from the depths of German Expressionism reminds us that what goes up always comes down.

Audrey lives alone in Paris after moving there to tend to the home of her recently deceased friend, Juliane. Moving through the days without motivation or a sense of purpose, she tries to re-establish her footing in the world by beginning video correspondences with two filmmakers—Burak, who lives in Istanbul, and Blake, who lives in Toronto. This exchange of words and footage initiates a healing process, but the nature of the interaction is not what it seems.

Moves through various modes of software and internet aesthetics, framing images of sublime landscapes and flying vehicles (airplanes, space shuttles, UFOs), pseudo-handheld glimpses of the world and digitally animated fireflies.

Shot in and around the Laberint d’Horta in Barcelona, the film charts several journeys into the garden in search of its centre, where a statue of Eros waits. As the film navigates the maze’s false pathways, its recursive structure begins to crack, and a mysterious underworld floods its gates.

A consumer grade DLP projector is powered on without a signal.

A man sees mountains and sets out to recreate them. During a traverse across the Western United States, we observe familiar sites in a new light, and the world gets lost in the fold.

Studio experiment with fluorescent lights, aperture settings, and a very smooth tilt.

A found footage film in three movements, drafting arrangements of motion with stasis, police with the policed, and reds with blues.

An anaglyph 3D found-footage film. None of the source material was shot stereoscopically; rather, the 3D effects are reliant on the phenomenon of motion parallax. Via its time delay strategy, visual depth illusions manifest themselves (or not, in some cases) through horizontal motions in the camera and/or its subjects. Clips of trains, space shuttles, beaches, and cyclopes butt against one another to present a doleful impression of mutated technologies, gestures, and species.

Pictures of blooming cherry blossoms, radiant colour fields, and domestic miscellany are re-photographed off the screen of an obsolete televisual device. Images rise upward, the left greets the right, and a new season arrives, telling an impressionistic story of transition, unity, and companionship.

As a major storm strikes Texas in 1900, a mysterious televisual device is built and tested. Blake Williams’ experimental 3D sci-fi film immerses us in the aftermath of the Galveston disaster to fashion a haunting treatise on technology, cinema, and the medium’s future.

An offscreen 16mm film projector pans its light across a studio, passing over a bouquet of yellow daisies. The 24fps flicker clashes with the 30fps recording by the video camera, creating a phasing pulsation in the light. The video repeats again and again, doubling in speed with each successive play.

An anaglyph 3D found-footage film about folding — folding paper, folding land, folding video planes, folding timelines — channeling the recorded history of the Grand Canyon and the history of stereoscopic cinema into a five-and-a-half-minute stream of images and sound. Partially inspired by the work of the “grandmaster of origami,” Akira Yoshizawa (1911 – 2005).

A trek down the entire length of Coorow-Latham Road – a small, barely inhabited path in Western Australia, about 250km north of Perth. The camera faces forward at the beginning, then slowly pans to the left over the course of the journey until it finally settles on a rear-view gaze of the road travelled. Images acquired from Google’s Street View application.