The rapidity of experimental narrative 180s produces in me a kind of frenzied cognitive whiplash.
I dreamed unhappy things!
The first time I watched this (two years ago?) was late at night in the back room of a specialty salt facility. An old print on original film played through a rickety projector. The perfect way to experience this odd and inspiring semi-documentary. Smithson's deadpan delivery reminds me of listening to John Ashbery reading his poems aloud. I was enthralled.
The film is fascinating companion to the monumental piece out in the Utah desert, which my father and I made…