An insect’s eye, ASMR, supernature, anthropocene futures, inhuman geographies, mantis meets man, deromanticised environments, portals, crunchy sticky soundscapes, made in confinement.
The camera usually symbolises the human eye. We see; it’s our sovereign prerogative. But nature didn’t evolve to meet human desires. Capitalism forces a liquidation of natural phenomena into resources.
Human geography researcher Amelia Hine presents a different story – one where the insects are in charge. What is an insect’s view of the world? What if humans are the objects, not the subjects? How does the bee co-evolve with the flower? How would you go about your day dodging buildings, vehicles, trampling feet? How do you copy yourself when the grass and the meadows are replaced with suburbs and carparks?
Insects aren’t like people. But they are the centre of their world, as humans are the centre of theirs. In the falling, buzzy, collaged animation Metamorphosis #1, insects adapt and thrive as apartments rise and poison gas floods the air. Tiny humans morph into six-legged creatures, their eyes swell to buggish proportions. Cicadas clutch a tower, like King Kong.
Finally, the insect invasion is here, and we can relax – their remaking of the world is a far lovelier scenario than those presented in the 1950s insect horror films (“crawl-and-crush giants clawing out of the Earth from mile-deep catacombs!”). It’s an anarchy of rogue growth, a liberating upside-down perspective.
About Amelia Hine
A researcher in human geography, Amelia Hine creates moving collages about the experiences of nonhumans like insects and rocks, and their relationship with landscapes crafted by people.
Metamorphosis #1 is part of