One of the pragmatic solutions to the problem of how people will be able to find their way in a
theatre or cinema are the small lights that, hidden in this place or that, show the audience where
to step and where not, and where to choose a chair.
Now imagine: complete darkness.
Enter.
Ask yourself to stop imagining and look at . ..... .:.:...:::ccccoCCoooo::
While looking at it, the question becomes: what is looking? At this point the guiding lights may
come back with a vengeance. Usually we look in order to orient ourselves. Either in response or
consequently, much arts is directed at disorienting ourselves.That leaves the question unanswered
as to what looking is. Still, that is one of the key questions in Pointekers work. In order to be able to
answer that question, Pointeker has to both steer away from, and connect to the average language
of cinema - and photography.The way in which he succeeds in doing that reminds one of concrete
poetry. But this is not more than a reminder. Concrete poetry was by and large a response to
something else: what we knew already. Dialectically, concrete poetry remained bound up with what
we already knew. In terms of cinema, Pointeker somehow knows how to escape that route. He doesn't
show it, though.What he shows is what appears.
We find ourselves in complete darkness.
A light shines, some lights shine: a car makes its way. Let's take that literally: 'a car makes its way'.
This is not a car that is being used to get from here to there. Making light, the car makes a way.
Other images follow: all make way.We look, caught in the light of what is being shown - and we start
to sense what looking is.
Frans-Willem Korsten