“I a most wretched Atlas, the huge world, / The whole huge world of sorrow I must carry / Yea, the unbearable must bear, though meanwhile / My heart break in despair.“1 The young poet Heinrich Heine versed these lines of despair between 1823 and 1824. In 2013 the British

The unknown, the foreign, the strange – all are abstract ideas rife with abysmal depths. Far too easily do we tend to abuse them as projection screens for our own fears and desires, while merely speculative causal chains deliver proof of the bounds of our knowledge. There are many present-day

Jarmila Mitríková and Dávid Demjanovič were born in the mid-1980s in Czechoslovakia, a land and political system that no longer exists today. And yet much has remained, which like a common red thread of past times, trails through the present of their homeland: buildings, everyday objects, memories, stories, traditions and

Glistening waves flicker across the screen, rhythmic drumming resounds off-screen, followed by a catchy piano melody. Cut. A man’s sporty silhouette stands before the sunset on the beach, then enters the striking voice of the rock star Jimi Jamison: “Some people stand in the darkness…”, and across the screen in