Pablo Marín

A film about friendship. A portrait of Claudio Caldini.

“Like all humans, we were cruel to animals. Now I try to expiate, the best I can, all the damage I was guilty of in another time.” –Axel Munthe (from the book Zoología lírica)

Lines of light, ink and blood draw a dark map of southern introspection.

Marín parcels a self-portrait in a geometric motif, formed by vertical and horizontal 360-degree pans from a rooftop in Buenos Aires.

Fragments of a journey in which the geographical exploration merges with little emotional bursts, like panels of a map folded into each other and impossible to separate. A concentration: Berlin, Buenos Aires and the chaotic chances of building something close to a cartography of remembrances.

Multi-exposed images of Colorado Springs in which everything put there by nature and men converge unordered and free. Dedicated to Chris, Frank and Jesse.

A film about friendship. A portrait of Claudio Caldini.

“Like all humans, we were cruel to animals. Now I try to expiate, the best I can, all the damage I was guilty of in another time.” –Axel Munthe (from the book Zoología lírica)

Lines of light, ink and blood draw a dark map of southern introspection.

Marín parcels a self-portrait in a geometric motif, formed by vertical and horizontal 360-degree pans from a rooftop in Buenos Aires.

Fragments of a journey in which the geographical exploration merges with little emotional bursts, like panels of a map folded into each other and impossible to separate. A concentration: Berlin, Buenos Aires and the chaotic chances of building something close to a cartography of remembrances.

Multi-exposed images of Colorado Springs in which everything put there by nature and men converge unordered and free. Dedicated to Chris, Frank and Jesse.

A bunch of movie trailers drawn out of circulation, therefore detached from their commercial objective are reedited and manipulated through cuts, burns, chemicals and multiple techniques until they reach an extraordinary (yet naturally filmic) audiovisual abstraction.

A silent city symphony, projected from gorgeous black and white 16mm film. Materia vibrante lets the resonating frequencies of the urban environment create the inaudible hum that keeps the engines of society running, absent of the inhabitants running around like little ants toiling away.

Fully filmed and edited using a super-8 camera, Resistfilm moves between structure and poetry, playing a multiple game of masks and superimpositions that underline the organic character of celluloid.

No synopsis available yet.

Natural and mechanical forces of power intertwined through structural observation.

The first part of a series of diary films made according to structural parameters and completely edited in camera was shot entirely by single frame and varying the zoom lens to create a surrounding and vibrating 360 view of my city, as seen from my rooftop.

Made strictly by opposing AMIA’s “Disaster Recovery for Films in Flooded Areas” this film was kept under water until its emulsion started to melt, then removed, tightened up and finally dried directly by the sun. The result is what you see, a film trailer, reborn from its very same ashes, in which the few small portions of “images” that remain are overcome by the freed, colorful chemicals. Blocking is, thus, an homage to all the footage lost by the unpredictable dangers of nature and, at the same time, a true song to the beauty in destruction.

TM stands for “tuyo/mío” (“yours/mine” in Spanish): an idea related to found footage practice but also to the hypnotic rhythm of 35mm film frames cut in half by a 16mm film projector. What you hear is what you originally saw.

A layered attempt at daily life: home, clouds, and the river in the background.

Super8, b&w, 2024

Sentimentally turbulent images prompted unconsciously by the end of times. A picture of light and water... and there's some blood in it too, given the course of human events. At some point I will have no choice than to call this a political film. "This storm is what we call progress." -Walter Benjamin

An abstract telegram : fragmented memories of living in Argentina's zip code 1640.

No synopsis available yet.

A snow ball holds an anthology of detachments in its core. A found and personal footage alphabet designed to abandon the stillness of the archive and become active.

A masked film camera gate and a rewound Super 8 roll achieve a multiple (triple) frame of my working space and materials shot frame by frame.

Hand held shots of my house and family cuts to a long take portrait of a cat.

“Fire insubstantial, sacred and enclosed, earthly fragment to the light exposed.” - Paul Valéry, The Graveyard by the Sea (1920). [Punto de vista]