Open Call for Video Submissions for the Joining Hands project

September 1, 2021 to October 1, 2021

 

 

Sophia Naz and Caryn Heilman/LiquidBody

invite camera artists from all over the globe to submit videos for inclusion in 

Joining Hands, an interactive video installation inspired by Sophia Naz’s poem “Hands” with original world music composed by Nana Simopoulos.

 

Submission Guidelines 

Videos do not need to be literal representations of the poem text, we welcome poetic visual expressions of any style as long as they convey a sense of the dynamic movement of the poem.

 

Videos should not exceed 5 minutes in length.  They should be 1080p or higher.  We should be able to accept any format including 360 video.  

 

By submitting a video, you agree that you are the owner of the video and that you grant us the nonexclusive right to include your submitted video or any portion of it, in this work Joining Hands.  You are also granting us the right to exhibit the work and to use any portion of the work for advertising and promoting the work or as a sample of the work of Sophia Naz or Caryn Heilman/LiquidBody.  Contributors retain rights to their video, and do not, by being included in the work, own any portion of the work Joining Hands.


Videos should be submitted via the form below

Deadline for submissions October 1, 2021

 

Sophia Naz

 “Hands” 

If your hands could smell you’d be an octopus
every surface scent a million stories
the stealthy stickiness of slugs would seep
epics in the drama of the underbrush
melting stalagmites show and tell
in your digits, earth as Mnemosyne
If your hands could smell, the suck
of subway cars would stop you
dead in your tracks to decode
teeming conduits, lighting up
nosegays on your fingers
newborn bouquets, archaic attar
Each night, etymology of odor
would allure you, greedy as Prometheus
but unable to steal
the summer of a firefly
the distant musk of a star
If your hands could smell, you’d speak
in canine, each pole and passing bush
whisper, each sniff you’d get the snitch
of neighborhood carousing in high fidelity
Until weary of invisible graffiti
scroll of metropolis unfolding
in endless olfactory braille
you’d head for the woods, hoping
trees were not such talkers
or at least would shoot
the breeze between sentences
How long did you walk? It’s hard
to tell, but when you fell palms down
cupped hollow as a flute upon
the ground, you understood

How the void makes music possible
and history had it wrong
it was not Earth who bore witness
it was your hands, all along.

Contact Us

When you submit your video, you will get a confirmation that your form has been received.  You will also receive an email with the details you submitted.  If you have any trouble with the form, or have questions, feel free to reach out to us.  We are excited to be creatively engaged with you!

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