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Fugazi

dir. Patrick Boehmcke

9:14 minutes

 

Fugazi is a video I made. Here are some thoughts I have on it.

 

Thought 1: I try to avoid censoring myself when I work. Holding my tongue is a practice that comes all too easy to me. It’s often crippling.

 

Thought 2:  This video, structurally, is pornography. More emotionally engaging, yes. Far less using, without a doubt—but scene for scene this is a work that builds intensity with the intention of releasing it all in one quick, messy money shot. (Side-thought: This is not a video about sexuality or a sideshow for what some may perceive to be sexual deviancy)

 

Thought 3:  I’ve had friends tell me it was difficult for them to sit through the opening monologue. Some of them even turned it off. Rightfully so. It’s a deeply awkward piece of work. The subject of the video—who I affectionately refer to as Claire—is confused. The poor girl has no idea what she’s doing.

 

Thought 4:  There’s a very human quality to analog technology and the PXL-2000 is a nasty little piece of work. If I was a camera this is the camera I would be. The digital image can be quite human too if one applies the right amount of pressure. Both are used to Claire’s advantage.

 

Thought 5:  Great ideas seem to form as new insecurities are uncovered. This is absolutely a personal work. The things I that I’m not able play out on the screen are things that immobilize me in my own life.

 

Thought 6: The Internet never fails to terrify me. It is the dumping ground of the subconscious. Suburban life is equally terrifying for the opposite reason.

 

Final Thought: The act of obscuring is an act of self-defense.

~ Patrick Boehmcke

 

About Patrick Boehmcke

Patrick Boehmcke is a video artist and filmmaker currently based in Philadelphia and studying at the University of the Arts.

Click on a title to read more about each film.

 

Welcome Home 

Plastic 

Fertile Crescent

Bammy’s Dad

Fugazi   

Sunshine for Breakfast 

Deprave

Real Ethereal

Series 1

Curated by Alexis Mayer & Joshua Martin

92 minutes

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