Kov o kov
Greta StocklassováMum is. Mum lives. There’s a scar on her chest, but don’t pay any notice. There’s a heart inside that is beating. Metal against metal. A mechanical aortic valve to replace the one that was all used up. The film poem.
Mum is. Mum lives. There’s a scar on her chest, but don’t pay any notice. There’s a heart inside that is beating. Metal against metal. A mechanical aortic valve to replace the one that was all used up. The film poem.
A box of 254 postcards at 1 CZK apiece. Dozens of senders but only one addressee. A portrait of the unknown recipient culled from 50 years of birthday and Christmas greetings. An attempt to put something static into motion, to make something flat deeper, to put life into something dead.
Medium Grey.
Stockholm – Prague. Mother and daughter trying to shorten the distance between them through video calls. But the geographical distance isn’t the only thing they have to overcome. The dissolution of a home and a formation of another in three shots.