Bring Me the Head of Henri Chrétien

In their sci-fi Billy Roisz and Dieter Kovacic pose a question if we will ever be able to communicate across the time and space. Inspired by the communication of cephalopods, they experiment with conveying messages using lights, colours, pheromons, sounds and movements instead of words, and they demand that we receive the signals by our whole bodies, just like octopuses.

An experimental audiovisual collaboration using audio and video mixing boards.

Who’s Afraid of RGB can be interpreted as a condensation of the romantic movie, drama, and melodrama. The black-and-white film Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? is mirrored in nine eyes and superimposed with the colors red, green, and blue. Paralleling her previous treatment of the horror film and the road movie, Who's Afraid Of RGB subjects the genres of romantic movies, dramas, and melodramas to Roiszian compression.

‘Surge’ places us somewhere between figuration and abstraction: its displayed forms defy full visual comprehension, as they stretch and snap in strict accordance with the complex beats and sheets of sound created by schtum.

Billy Roisz's TILT presents for us to see one example of such a state where something is out of whack and out of order, a constant source of new degrees of intensity. At first, there are four vertical gray elements: pulsing tubes, rods or wires that divide up the black picture. At the very beginning a kind of afterimage separates from the bundle to the far left, a bright-red vibrating shadow that then moves from one rod to the next. This feedback process continues until, after a kind of explosive overload, three flickering columns of red begin to settle between the gray tubes.

NOT STILL forms an abstract visual landscape in shades of monochrome colors, from green to red, in which found footage on celluloid flares up like a quotation from the nether world. Alienated classical film scores howl in NOT STILL’s minimalist techno soundscape, overlapping with the main motif of the record in all of its varied visual structures. VJ Roisz mistreats this just as uninhibitedly as the DJ mistreats his records. Roisz shows brief shots of film macros, tracks of animated films and a horror movie, to then unexpectedly have the leaping picture strip swallow them again. As though in a séance in all degrees of its intensity, flaring up are scraps of memory of a pop culture media history. NOT STILL enacts a clash of media in gruesome disquiet and poetic ambiance.

The material's esthetics collide with the soundtrack, which evokes the sluggish nature of the mechanical. One material screeches into another, this becomes a kind of tentative probing which is superimposed with layers of electronic noises. The spectrum of acoustic atmospheres ranges from long before the record album was invented to its current renaissance. Vaudeville shot through with elements of contemporary electronic noise. Earthy sounds, swelling and subsiding movements, gradual stops, standstills, returns and repetitions. Looped audio messages from the loudspeaker's horn which are brought into the present. Billy Roisz has on this acoustic foundation erected a visual monument to the disk which has fascinated several generations with both its contents and its form.

Several interior spaces are illuminated and sculpted through light projections and sonic accumulations. Isolated details emerge from a sea of darkness.

Whenever there´s music The Devil kicks He don´t allow music By the river Styx

paris was made as a music video for the Norwegian rock trio MoE, whose raw style is between metal and noise. "I like the anger," is roared into the microphone programmatically by the charismatic bassist and singer Guro Skumsnes Moe, who also writes the lyrics. In addition to the highly charged front woman´s raw voice, nothing more than an electric bass, guitar and drums are required to express pure anger and desperation. Roisz translates each instrument and Moe´s voice into its own visual level, and the end results are then layered visually.

In their sci-fi Billy Roisz and Dieter Kovacic pose a question if we will ever be able to communicate across the time and space. Inspired by the communication of cephalopods, they experiment with conveying messages using lights, colours, pheromons, sounds and movements instead of words, and they demand that we receive the signals by our whole bodies, just like octopuses.

‘Surge’ places us somewhere between figuration and abstraction: its displayed forms defy full visual comprehension, as they stretch and snap in strict accordance with the complex beats and sheets of sound created by schtum.

The "liquefaction of the liquid" is taken to such extremes that as soon as the guttural singing of Mopcut begins, the image space is overcome with spectral flutters and untenable fluctuations.