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...Welcome way back. As you will discover, there is a theme that dominates this yearās festival ö history. From the Inside Out Queer Youth Digital Video Project 5th Anniversary Compilation, to the Aboriginal Program featuring the work of Thirza Cuthand and Zachery Longboy, to the White Light curated series of films and videos from 1930 to 1990, to the bizarre Anti-Queer Films from 1950 to 1990, all of these programs take us on a journey through time, place, circumstance, and situation.
Sure, the context is Īhistoryā, but the subjects, ideas, politics, and perspectives of many of the films and videos that make up this yearās festival are timeless and relevant, and remind us how powerful and revealing the moving image has been and continues to be for both queer artists and audiences, and how the bigger picture of what we call queer and popular culture has absorbed it all.
As the title of the Special Programs series evokes, this White Light was artists exposing the varied landscapes of queer artistic experimentation, and the personal which was and became so very political and critical in bringing about social change and awareness.
This shining of the light on brave new ideas and aesthetics, and on issues political, fostered the first film festivals some 30 years ago. The explosion of festivals worldwide in the late 80ās and early 90ās is a testament to not only the popularity of queer film and video, but to the universality of the subjects and ideas found within them. At one point, we were are all able to find and see ourselves on screen and, perhaps more importantly, to discover new ways of seeing the world around us.
Speaking of festivals in the context of time, as I went about planning for this yearās installment of Queer City Cinema, I was inevitably drawn towards my own history with queer film and video, namely the first Queer City Cinema in 1996, which was preceded by research and travel to festivals and distribution centres across Canada and the USA. Those Īvirgin daysā were intensely, profoundly and both figuratively and literally eye opening. Not only was I experiencing for the first time the thrill of queer collective viewing with hundreds and sometimes thousands of eager viewers (letās just say the task of finding a seat in a packed hall was not unpleasant) I also met many artists, programmers, organizers, and distributors who have contributed, in fundamental ways, to the evolution of both my Īselfā and Queer City Cinema.
Thus, the six individuals who have been invited to guest curate for the Special Programs section of this yearās festival have been met along my fairy way, and have contributed once more through their personal and impassioned selection of films and videos. As their programs trickled in, I was struck with how their own histories and experience engendered their selections. I suppose when one is dealing with ideas related to the delineation of time you not only take a look at the work, you take a look at yourself as well.
Unfortunately, with the planned panel discussion cancelled out of fiscal necessity, we will not have the opportunity to hear further insights from this group of committed vision makers and cultural commentators. For the panel, I was anticipating discussion about not only each of their programs, but their take on what they see happening Īout thereā now in the world of queer film and video. Admittedly, this current state of affairs in queer image making played a major part in my reasons for doing this about face and retreating to the programming of historical works.
The position of queer image making and watching has certainly evolved or, one might argue, regressed in the past several years. As the production of feature length queer moving images continues to become more prolific, popular, and with that, a commodity of sorts, more and more queer festivals are tending to embrace this development by programming predominantly features. A welcome arrival for some yet a growing concern for others as the appearance of short personal works is becoming a rarer occurrence. The obvious questions emerge ö have we sold out?, or is this an indication of progress or a pleasurable consequence of our Īmovementā? But in which direction are we going? As always, time will tell.
In the meantime, along with the rare opportunity to look, listen, and learn, I would like to suggest that perhaps we take the time to retrace our proud steps back to a place where cinema truly looked queer to the eye and spoke deeply to the soul.
Gary Varro Artistic Director |
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