dir. Paige Sarlin, Video, Color, Sound, 30 minutes

A meditation on the transformations of perception produced by loss, Paige Sarlin’s [six years] marks the sixth anniversary of the filmmaker and musician Tony Conrad’s death with an assemblage of documentary images and sounds created in the apartment in Buffalo, NY where Sarlin and Conrad lived together.
On the night Tony died, Paige played cello to him for hours as his breathing slowed and changed. [six years] contains excerpts from that audio recorded at Hospice Buffalo and explores the capacity of expanded cinema to function as a holding space for grief.
This video is meant to be watched while holding a balloon. Supplied by the filmmaker, this prosthetic provides access to the deaf and hard of hearing. It also amplifies the somatic resonance of the piece.
To feel … hold balloon.

Image Description: A pair of white balloons occupy two seats in an empty movie theatre. One reads: [six years], the other, “to feel … hold balloon.”
ACCESS INFORMATION:
Balloons must be provided for theatrical screenings.
Contact p.sarlin@gmail.com for specially printed balloons.
The first section of the film is open-captioned.
Visual description is also available as audio file and/or braille transcript.
CREDITS:
Breath: Tony Conrad
Cello: Paige Sarlin
Editing: Paige Sarlin
The demolition of the Millard Fillmore Hospital Building was taped by Paige Sarlin
and Tony Conrad on October 3, 2015.
All other images were filmed and edited by Paige Sarlin between April and July 2022. Audio Mixing: Paige Sarlin & David Grubbs – Emotional Support Dog: Tillie Olsen Conrad
VISUAL DESCRIPTION of OPENING of [six years] :
A white balloon appears in front of a clouded window that frames an expanse of blue sky above a green patch of urban skyline. The camera is jostled and two white arms appear from off-screen to take hold of the ballon and write with a black marker: “This video contains amplified drone.”
The film cuts to a white balloon with new black text handwritten on it “and Audio recorded at Hospice Buffalo Hospice.” A hand turns the balloon to reveal more white blank space and writes: “To feel … hold balloon.”
Hands try to hold the balloon still. And then retract, taking the balloon off-screen. A row of modern buildings, a parking lot, and a few green trees become visible through the dirt-glazed window. Black text appears over the scene accompanied by a voice over:
[middle-aged female voice with an american accent] The images in this video were recorded at 1290 Delaware Avenue, Buffalo, NY, in the apartment where I lived with Tony Conrad until his death on April 9th, 2016. On the day Tony died, I played cello to him for hours as his breathing slowed. This soundtrack includes excerpts from that audio recorded at Hospice Buffalo along with two duets we recorded in our home. On the sixth anniversary of Tony’s death, I began filming in my living room. I placed the camera in the spot where we had taped the demolition of a hospital building years earlier…
The image becomes darker, then brighter, and brighter again as the camera exposure is changed until the screen finally goes grey-white.
Swirling dark-grey dust fills the screen — and slowly, edges of light from a dim sunrise appear and disappear into a roiling cloud of grey-white dust and air.
[a single cello note is bowed tentatively and increases in volume, punctuated by very soft breathing]
The white-grey dust begins to settle very slowly and reveals a muted scene of a partially demolished building filling the left side of the screen — surrounded by a large parking lot where water sprays on the wreckage and workmen appear dwarfed by the trucks and heaps of beams and rubble. A single tree covered in dust stands on the edge of the work site — and an urban skyline of low houses lines the upper third of the frame — as grey clouds stretch length-wise obscuring a dim sunrise.
CUT TO an image of a living room with three dirty windows. The camera moves and settles on a frame and remains still as dust settles.
One red futon. One grey loveseat where a medium-sized black dog is sprawled with four paws visible and head in profile. A coffee table. Three stacks of books. Nine plastic toucans on the window sill. A dozen half-dead plants. Bright-white sunlight fills the windows while sharp shadows cut across the dusty surfaces.
38 shots of this one living room follow. Some static and slow — others with slight movements – pans — or adjustments. Objects appears in close-up and medium shots: a tattered rug. a linen blanket. an empty loveseat. A black dog enters and leaves the frame. More dust. As the final breath fades, a close-up of a white record album with the name Tony Conrad embossed on it fills the screen. A white hazy screen fades to a pure white background. the title [six years] italicized and in brackets appears in black. Silence accompanies the end credit title cards that contain black text on white backgrounds.
VIMEO LINK (email p.sarlin@gmail.com to request password)