Scott Barley

Darkness has crept in. The hours pass quietly. A window ajar. A shadow observes the moonlight from the window.

It is nightfall. A hunter lurks in the darkness, wandering further towards the impenetrable. Do the meanings lie in the stream, in the mountains, the stars, or in the death of things?

The tension between the natural and industrialised world depicted through abrasive superimpositions.

Two separate, yet poetically connected films that act as a threnody on nature. Mikel Guillen's film is dedicated to the artist, Hiroshi Sugimoto. Scott Barley's film is dedicated to the artist, Vija Celmins.

A commissioned music video for Emmit Fenn’s instrumental track, Wind.

The shadows of screams climb beyond the hills. It has happened before. But this will be the last time. The last few sense it, withdrawing deep into the forest. They cry out into the black, as the shadows pass away, into the ground.

The shadows of screams climb beyond the hills. It has happened before. But this will be the last time. The last few sense it, withdrawing deep into the forest. They cry out into the black, as the shadows pass away, into the ground.

The shadows of screams climb beyond the hills. It has happened before. But this will be the last time. The last few sense it, withdrawing deep into the forest. They cry out into the black, as the shadows pass away, into the ground.

Secret ladder. Borne from firmament. Stone, atonal waters. Chorus of silent hands. A vanishing act. Night is burning. Night is burning white. Flesh, a white fire. Avian. Given. Secret ladder. Mirror, become mirror.

Scott Barley and Mikel Guillen’s second collaboration, The Emerald Fire is inspired by the eleven Hijabaat (veils) of Sufism, feminine divinity, ascension, and the mereology of reality and experience itself.

Scott Barley and Mikel Guillen’s second collaboration, The Emerald Fire is inspired by the eleven Hijabaat (veils) of Sufism, feminine divinity, ascension, and the mereology of reality and experience itself.

Scott Barley and Mikel Guillen’s second collaboration, The Emerald Fire is inspired by the eleven Hijabaat (veils) of Sufism, feminine divinity, ascension, and the mereology of reality and experience itself.

A dance between moon and ocean, forests and rivers. A short film by Scott Barley, originally made for a "half moon phase" sequence for Tadhg O'Sullivan's essay film, 'To the Moon' (2020). Shot on iPhone Xs with various rephotographing techniques, combined with superimposed drawings and paintings by Scott Barley. Released as a standalone short film in 2024 as part of 'Short Films (2012–2020): Solo Works by Scott Barley' on Blu-ray.

Several figures move through the darkness on a cliff-edge. An inaudible conversation near the brow of the cliff may be the cause for the group to disband. The rest of the film follows the solitary journey of the youngest member of the group, until she rests; where land meets the sea.

Several figures move through the darkness on a cliff-edge. An inaudible conversation near the brow of the cliff may be the cause for the group to disband. The rest of the film follows the solitary journey of the youngest member of the group, until she rests; where land meets the sea.

Through a structuralist and simultaneously ambiguous form, the image's reality treads closer to the abstract, leaving the sunset and trees behind. As we enter the image's gloaming, it reveals its true eye: reality's pure haptic energy, where there is nothing but sonorous light, and the dregs of the Unknown.

Through a structuralist and simultaneously ambiguous form, the image's reality treads closer to the abstract, leaving the sunset and trees behind. As we enter the image's gloaming, it reveals its true eye: reality's pure haptic energy, where there is nothing but sonorous light, and the dregs of the Unknown.

The Mouth screams. It swells, hunting the night like a snake in the dark. The laceration tears through the stars, devouring its meal. In an infinite womb, limbs drift suspended, like flies in a giant spider web. An infinite sea of pale flesh. Death’s renewal awaits, as the bodies pass into the void.

The Mouth screams. It swells, hunting the night like a snake in the dark. The laceration tears through the stars, devouring its meal. In an infinite womb, limbs drift suspended, like flies in a giant spider web. An infinite sea of pale flesh. Death’s renewal awaits, as the bodies pass into the void.

A thirty second tracking shot, moving toward, beneath, and away from a large tree at night is abstracted by slowing the original footage down to 360 minutes, rendering the movement in the shot imperceptible to the naked eye. "I wanted to undo all that is conventionally considered cinema, to reveal the tensions between still image and moving image, stasis and movement, space and temporality, the perceptible and the imperceptible." — Scott Barley

A thirty second tracking shot, moving toward, beneath, and away from a large tree at night is abstracted by slowing the original footage down to 360 minutes, rendering the movement in the shot imperceptible to the naked eye. "I wanted to undo all that is conventionally considered cinema, to reveal the tensions between still image and moving image, stasis and movement, space and temporality, the perceptible and the imperceptible." — Scott Barley

The second feature-length film directed by Scott Barley.

The second feature-length film directed by Scott Barley.

The second feature-length film directed by Scott Barley.

Waves run across the surface of the sea. A blanket of fog has descended, shrouding the far side of the water in dark mist. We hear a disturbance in the sea's surface, out of our line of sight. A man staggers into view. He is stranded. Alone. He searches for answers; in the water, in the woodland, in the hills. He finds none. As he wanders deeper into the darkness of the forest, questioning his fate and destiny, he thinks back and reminisces over fragments of his life, and what has been lost. As time passes, the man finds a cabin. He feels uplifted at the thought of shelter from exposure to the elements that he has endured. Inside the shack he encounters a book that he had lost days before. He attempts to find solace in the book's pages; memories of days passed by. It consumes him. He accepts his spiritual end. It comes full circle.

Waves run across the surface of the sea. A blanket of fog has descended, shrouding the far side of the water in dark mist. We hear a disturbance in the sea's surface, out of our line of sight. A man staggers into view. He is stranded. Alone. He searches for answers; in the water, in the woodland, in the hills. He finds none. As he wanders deeper into the darkness of the forest, questioning his fate and destiny, he thinks back and reminisces over fragments of his life, and what has been lost. As time passes, the man finds a cabin. He feels uplifted at the thought of shelter from exposure to the elements that he has endured. Inside the shack he encounters a book that he had lost days before. He attempts to find solace in the book's pages; memories of days passed by. It consumes him. He accepts his spiritual end. It comes full circle.

Upon liminal spheres where dreams are woven, Adrift between stars and the trees, I pass closer to the golden dawn. There’s a warmth beyond the shadow. I feel the aurum under my eyelids, And I hope the birds will sing. Oh, I hope I will hear the birds sing... Perhaps a knowledge that never comes. for David Robert Jones (8th January 1947 - January 10th 2016)

Upon liminal spheres where dreams are woven, Adrift between stars and the trees, I pass closer to the golden dawn. There’s a warmth beyond the shadow. I feel the aurum under my eyelids, And I hope the birds will sing. Oh, I hope I will hear the birds sing... Perhaps a knowledge that never comes. for David Robert Jones (8th January 1947 - January 10th 2016)