Four Sided Tape
Here, Peter Campus explores video, not as a demonstration of special effects, but as a way of placing his own body in the presence of an immediate double. He creates succinct and metaphorical visions of the duel between man and his image, between part and whole, where the medium acts not as a mirror, but as a double of the mirror. Through four sequences – feet, torso, face, and hands – Peter Campus systematically confronts a physical body with its immaterial double, linking one to another in a conjoined relationship, and manages, through a very precisely framed composition, to make the borders nearly indiscernible, so that our own position in relation to this image remains irreversible. In the end this situation of fundamental indecision is resolved by means of a turnaround, a fracas, a rupture, a radical shift that repositions the body in its original space.

East Ended Tape
The face of a woman is slowly covered by a shadow, like a partial eclipse. This shadow is her own hand (a hand that somehow seems to belong to someone else), emerging out of nowhere, yet belonging to her own body.
A man covers his face with a translucent piece of plastic, a gesture that makes him gradually disappear, veiling him, rendering him opaque, mummifying him. The same woman's face doubles, splits into two spaces that constitute a single image. But the two hemispheres break apart continually in a simultaneous rotating movement, without ever being able to come together again. 'I' is always another, an inaccessible image. Then, from behind a thick fog, the artist's face vanishes. The man is still there, present behind the image. Four fragments without words, which stare at a being in a world of disappearances, veils, and masks, and of loss of identity.

Third Tape
Three fragments, three video portraits, reworked in a synthesised version according to expressionist, cubist and surrealist techniques. Three faces that cross the history of modern art; three faces that cut, fragment, and submerge into the material of the video, like a mirror or a memory of art, and that, through their 'impossible' points of view, and ambivalent and discordant angles, place the viewer within a paradoxical space.

Six Fragments
Through the sudden appearance of text, fiction, actors, and a kind of theatrical composition, this film leads to a radical shift within Peter Campus' body of work. Compared to his experimental approach to the medium and to the intimate world of the studio and performance, this film emerges as a form of transition. It reveals his desire to attribute more to video than simply video itself, using it instead as a tool for narration or a means of storytelling, and here as a dream of escape, loss and abandonment.

Stéphanie Moisdon
Translated by Jo Garden