33,384.6 m²

Two black, vertical, slightly unstable lines initially bisect the image space. In old cinema, before digitization, these could have been tracking lines. Simona Obholzer’s 33,384.6 m² also occasionally evokes thoughts of classic animation, as it unfolds throughout in the tension between a dynamically shaped, almost drawn (or cut-out?) foreground and a flat, largely static background. The camera itself does not move; the cinematic frame is always fixed – yet it contains nothing fixed. The changing cloud formations that occupy most of the image space are not clearly localizable anchors in the world, but merely contingent patterns, random images that have no connection whatsoever with the foreground.

The lines soon reveal themselves to be wires, yet never lose their graphic qualities. The forms become more complex. Couplings, loose suspensions, ever more massive loads being lifted – always along a vertical axis, into, through, and out of the picture. Are they being swung? As much as it appears that the movements we see are due to gravity and centrifugal forces, this ultimately remains speculation: our perception is based on our cognitive ability to imaginatively expand the image that Obholzer is presenting, perhaps envisioning a structure “high above” as the origin of all the lines. If we instead focus solely on what is visible, we can only conclude that the various lines and shapes that wander across 33,384.6 m² connect the upper and lower edges of the image, initiating a communication that is simultaneously visual and physical, but ultimately purely cinematic. Nevertheless, as the title already suggests, solid ground emerges off-screen where none existed before. (Lukas Foerster)

Translation: John Wojtowicz