An orangeish-red field of colour with a graphic which is not immediately recognizable, accompanied by the soundtrack´s electronic fields: falcon begins with a static and visually arresting image which is soon transformed. The colour turns to white and then pink, yellowish green changes to orange and red. This takes place parallel to the vibrating soundtrack. Parts of images are affected by these colour modulations, resulting in various degrees of intensity. Only gradually does it become obvious that the strange symbol is the abstracted picture of a jet´s cockpit: Falcon is both a bird of prey and the name of the F-16, a jet fighter.
The foundation employed by Karø Goldt is a representational image, a photograph which had been altered on a computer. The subject´s symbolic character was intensified through reduction and abstraction, and the result is reminiscent of X-rays or thermographs, which refers to the existing relationship to other devices that produce images. The use of colours, some of which cover the image´s surface evenly, some of which are frayed at the edges, is evocative of the medium of painting, especially "Colour Field Painting" and its adherents Mark Rothko and Barnett Newman.
In falcon too abstraction is not employed to produce geometric shapes but as a diversion to coloured spaces and their transcendent quality. The potential for this perception is intensified by the soundtrack which - as in her earlier videos - was developed by rashim in a constant exchange with the artist.
The harmony of the acoustic and audio levels and the conscious integration of formal references to other visual media make Karø Goldt´s work a fascinating contribution to contemporary digital video production.
Translation: Steve Wilder
Slowly changing, mutating, a color-field video. The digitized image evolves and pulsates with the soundtrack. It is no longer a representation of a Falcon F-16, not even a real object anymore, just a series of vectors, areas of varying color intensity. Goldt´s piece is cold and detached from the organic world. The only human traces are a darker strip of color, intersecting the jet fighter right where the pilot would be exposing the ghost in the machine, and the throbbing digital dust of the soundtrack, recalling a stuttering heartbeat, arush of blood.