Lee A. Ritchie

Through a plastic bottle of cleaner on the windowsill. Ambient sound.

Through the window. Silent.

Rapid montage of still images assembled from detritus dumped off my camera roll, collected over the past five to ten years. On completing the film, I subsequently experienced an inexplicable spontaneous bout of involuntarily selective amnesia, wherein I completely forgot my iPhone passcode and had to erase everything on it without a backup. Thus, these are some of the only images rescued.—Lee

Through a glass of beer on the windowsill. Ambient sound.

Homage to Robert Breer’s 'Homage to Jean Tinguely’s Homage to New York.'

Through a plastic cup of iced coffee on the windowsill. Silent.

Through a plastic bottle of cleaner on the windowsill. Ambient sound.

Through the window. Silent.

Rapid montage of still images assembled from detritus dumped off my camera roll, collected over the past five to ten years. On completing the film, I subsequently experienced an inexplicable spontaneous bout of involuntarily selective amnesia, wherein I completely forgot my iPhone passcode and had to erase everything on it without a backup. Thus, these are some of the only images rescued.—Lee

Through a glass of beer on the windowsill. Ambient sound.

Homage to Robert Breer’s 'Homage to Jean Tinguely’s Homage to New York.'

Through a plastic cup of iced coffee on the windowsill. Silent.

After a poem by Emily Dickinson. A collage disaster film and experiment with various zones of materiality: ice, lava, land, sea, and sky. All found footage lifted from the internet.

Repurposed footage from a Chevron-sponsored National Geographic nature documentary.

An experiment in activity, dedicated to Jean-Luc Godard and assembled in the immediate wake of his death on September 13, 2022. The only known footage of Marcel Proust is repeated through a sequence of digital abstractions and accompanied by the music of Gabriel Fauré, followed by video footage shot on iPhone 12 mini between North Carolina and New York City, 2021-2022.