Through the Hells of Animation 1

A nervously vibrating camera, a rubber duck being beheaded by algebra. Short and with a vengeance, David Lynch lights a beacon against the school-inculcated view of the world.

The small creature seems in need of love, until it comes snarling round the corner, chasing you on its short legs through the empty suburb. Unease starts to spread.

Symbols from the depths of our soul follow their own logic. With the help of a dream machine, a man is confronted with the personal myths that he has long carried around subconsciously.

A girl affected by ostracism creates a little demon. Mental pain becomes a dominant identity figure that seems impossible to get rid of.

She opens her arms wide: Crossing from an unbearable reality to the world of magic sometimes takes only the snap of a finger, sometimes several press-ups.

A collage whose sounds seem indefinable and yet organic. Pauline Oliveros’s piece needs no images; they intuitively appear by themselves before our inner eye.

Björk’s figure seamlessly transforms into fantastic organic shapes, while her singing wipes the slate clean: tabula rasa, a free space for children to blossom and make their own mistakes.