Bruce McClure doesn’t make films, he performs them. Most movies are frozen on celluloid or written on videotape. McClure’s don’t exist until he creates them in the theater. Twirling knobs, flipping switches, and adjusting lenses, he coaxes a bank of whirring projectors into producing images impossible to record: moire patterns dancing in mid-air, a glowing orb rising from the surface of the screen, prismatic bursts flashing about the room. Based in Williamsburg...
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