9 Comments

1. 

   Lindsay Kwan on January 13, 2015 at 11:57 am

   I am reminded of how rare it is to find out what happens to those reported missing and not just because some people are never found. In the media, the loop of information is rarely closed. The missing often forgotten or replaced by a new poster. In I Have the Gun, systematic procedures for firing a gun are replayed many years later, and yet seem timeless. An endless loop versus an incomplete one.

2. 

   ingrid rose on January 16, 2015 at 5:53 am

   how pertinent oscar’s salon is! re-minding me when i prefer to forget/deny. and the juxtaposition of heidi’s ‘i have the gun’ chilling. accurate. ‘i have the gun’—let this not be our epitaph…

3. 

   Patricia Webb on January 19, 2015 at 3:52 pm

   In a weird sort of way, finding out the conclusions to some of the stories of the missing, had a deflating effect on me. Partly because they weren’t the endings I was expecting. As the narrative continued, I began to feel a sort of drudgery, a continuity of death – almost overwhelming.
   In the film, once I was somewhat used to the frenetic (almost addictive) shooting scenes, it was the unseen target that began to bother me. My mind went there, behind that wall, and disappeared. Who’s there? What’s happening to them? The targets could be anyone, and that anonymity allowed me to put myself there. Why don’t the attackers see me as human and valuable? In both pieces, that is one of the questions at the forefront for me. That and, how will I die? Who will notice. Who will hold onto pieces of me? What will die with the finding of my body?

4. 

   Marilyn Belak on January 24, 2015 at 9:22 am

   It is a time of expecting the worse and getting it. Gone is the innocence of ignorance or claiming ignorance. The third person guidance and commentary in both Betsy’s and Heid’s works is the ‘between’: the place of existential aloneness we enter with Harry Potter and his cohort at station 6.5 ~ actually not alone but with a cohort of edvardian screamers existing in the interface.

5. 

   Marilyn Belak on January 24, 2015 at 9:24 am

   Meant to say worst – but worse is what I expect so my error is likely ‘the’ and not ‘worse/worst’ ~ write on.

6. 

   Jonina Kirton on January 26, 2015 at 5:20 pm

   As the mother of a 23 year old son I often cringe when I see missing posters. I try to imagine not knowing what happened to your child, whatever their age.

   Betsy’s use of their clothing as the thread, the first thing we read and imagine is on the poster, is then also the first thing we see with the final report, somehow this puts distance between the body, the person and their name. There is a separation of facts or details from the more visceral and perhaps harsh realities of what happened to them. At first I thought oh, thank goodness, it was a hoody that was missing only to read… (May 2, 2012 in a small creek above Novran Falls…dental records confirmed his identity…ruled his death an accident). Then “Found” which first appeared to signal good news was not the news hoped for. Somehow this news seems worse without their names.

   In the piece something is always missing, details rearranged in such ways as to not allow the puzzle pieces of bodies, names, locations they were found in, manner of death and clothing plus the unknown… eye colour known to change leaves it all up in the air, surreal in nature.

   This could never happen to us… – or – this never happened. Reminds of the surreal nature of grief as you try to deny the reality of the loss.

7. 

   Elisa on February 1, 2015 at 6:24 pm

   The items of clothing initially seemed trivial or just out of context. It was the description of the eye color that provided the first clue: someone, not something, is missing. After learning more of the details I realized, the items of clothing no longer seemed trivial. They symbolized a human life, a human being and even in the case of those who were and “found,” we still don’t know what happened. It’s still out of context. Do I want to know what happened or do I just to know why? Why are you missing? Why can’t we find you? Why couldn’t we help you?

   It also makes me think about the concept of someone being “missing.” If you’re missing, someone misses you, right? But it also indicates this ambiguous state that’s neither here nor there, the signification of which is quite empty. Someone else here described a state of being “between” and I suppose this can also apply when someone or something is missing.

   With the video, I was also left with the sense that a great deal of information was also missing. I was struggling to gain clarity of the situation. At the same time, it was a familiar one. I could make guesses as to what was happening, where this was taking place. I looked at the logo of the news broadcaster capturing the footage. The voices I heard speaking sounded so calm, so procedural. It belied a scene that looked to me rather crucial and chaotic.

   Thought provoking work, here.

8. 

   betsy ala Oscar on February 2, 2015 at 10:52 am

   In this salon, both Heidi and I work with found materials pre-existing in one form that we’ve re-contextualized into another. As many of you have articulated verbally and in your posted comments, these repurposed materials of text and image jar our sense of control (What’s this about? Who are these people? Where are we going? Do I want to be here? Do I want to know?). To be at a loss: visceral uncertainty can plunge us into the magnitude of what’s been lost. Thank you for taking the risk with us.

9. 

   Bernadette on February 3, 2015 at 8:28 pm

   Whoa! That’s a powerful use of a few details to tell a much bigger story and a horrific piece of video I’d rather not have seen. In fact, I didn’t watch it through to the end.