Curated by Lynne Sachs The moment we speak, a complex array of situations develop; language pulls the body from the oblivion of the animal world into a matrix of cultural and political relationships. This body speaks with an accent, an inflection and a gender-and is immediately inscribed by the listener. But how closely does the act of listening to a voice replicate the act of looking at the body? Is there an aural condition that mirrors the visual gaze? In Ken Jacobs's 3-D Globe (1971, 22 mins, Color) a seductive female voice treats us to an X-rated tour of the suburbs. But all of the flesh in this sexy how-to exists deep in the crevices of our imaginations. There are other lessons in Leslie Thornton's Peggy and Fred in Hell (1984, 21 mins); this time we are taken inside a house to listen to a young brother and sister, ostensibly memorizing familiar pop songs, but actually learning how to be a boy and a girl. The woman in Toney Merritt's Conquest Piece (1981-82, 5:30 mins) is also trying to speak. Earnest in her efforts, she discovers her largest obstacle is the film itself. In Hollis Frampton's Critical Mass (1971, 25 mins), a couple's explosive argument is aggressively disrupted by a manipulation of the film's synchronization. Their words and their gestures appear to be competing for the last breath of air. Jeanne Finley also explores the fragility of domestic tranquility in Beyond the Times Foreseen (1984, 10 mins, Color, Slide and tape). An omnipotent voice-over followed by palpable silence leads us to an alarming understanding of the power of the voice of authority. The male voice in Greta Snider's Mute (1990, 14 mins) disarms his audience with bold words of violence. We are left vulnerable, not unlike the female character, who is completely silent save for a written text which, in the end, may be her strongest weapon. -Lynne Sachs Lynne Sachs is a local filmmaker and instructor in Avant-Garde Film at UC Berkeley, Fall 1992, and at the California College of Arts and Crafts.