Stephanie Barber is an American writer and artist. She has created a poetic, conceptual and philosophical body of work in a variety of media. Many of her videos are concerned with the content, musicality and experiential qualities of language. They ferry viewers through philosophical inquiry with the unexpected oars of play, emotionalism, story, and humor.
Barber's films and videos have has been screened nationally and internationally in solo show and group shows at MOMA, NY; The Tate Modern, London; The Whitney Museum of American Art, NY; The Paris Cinematheque; The Walker Art Center, MN; MOCA Los Angeles, The Wexner Center for Art, OH, among other galleries, museums and festivals.
Her videos are distributed by Video Data Bank and her films can be found at Canyon Cinema and Fandor.com. Her recent book Night Moves was published by Publishing Genius Press in 2013, other essays, stories and poems have been published in books, magazines and online journals.
James Glisson at Artforum wrote "...the films of Stephanie Barber engage universal themes—time, death, memory, forgetting, frustration." and Ed Halter at Afterall Online wrote "Barber...approaches cinema as a philosophical toy, intimately small, in which the play itself generates both pleasure and insight."
Her first feature, DAREDEVILS premiered at the New York Film Festival's "Views from the Avant-Garde" and will screen at The National Gallery in DC in September 2014.
Barber is currently a resident artist at The Mt. Royal MFA for Interdisciplinary Art at MICA in Baltimore, MD
Andy's Palm Reader
andy got in a cab.
it was almost like an suv cab and he was alone.
the suv-ing of the cab made him even more alone.
andy was always alone speeding down the
los angeles highways in the joy of salt.
the cab driver was a big fan of andy's
tv show and told him how he
watched, with his family, on a rug made of circling braids.
braids made of fabric the family had had.
andy was listening to the cab driver and drawing
braids on his leg.
we just want to be loved. thought andy.
andy's long hair tangled with his long long beard
in the salt wind of the air flowing through the suv.
the cab driver said about the light from the tv
that it was hovering on his daughters' faces.
andy was the light
hovering on the cab driver's daughters' faces
as they sped towards the ocean where andy's palm reader lived.
A Dock And A Mural
every crab shack
in florida will now be held in contempt.
(held responsible for the music that shack plays)
(and the way that music makes you and me feel)
(the sexualized distress.)
simply existing within the american borders will
no longer absolve them of their sandy carelessness
and the way their promise of an escape hatch
turns so rapidly to desperation.
it is a lack of faith makes the days
(those joyed and those
so very long and waiting.
lack of faith and presence of desire.
excess of remembering.
they turn their wrists towards the gods.
the grey presses upon the soft and steady pulse.
the soft and steady pulse,
like radio—sending, relaying, calling.
the velocity field for sound waves is irrotational—
though unamplified it calls.
a call is a sonic seeking.
the vanity of seeking
heard with fingers. haptic heraldry!
in the finally so dark night.