To complete my Bachelor of Arts with a focus on film, I designed a video sculpture titled Haut (Skin).
I was fortunate to have an amazing team supporting me in bringing this ambitious project to life.
Production Period: August 2018 – February 2019
Three-channel narrative video sculpture, approx. 26 min, approx. 75x95x110 cm
Short Description:
Haut is a symbiosis of video, wood, and canvas—a three-channel video sculpture exploring love and jealousy within a polyamorous relationship. It is an attempt to present a narrative within a video sculpture, not as self-referential video art, but as a love story told through a modern triptych.
A piece that stands as an object: closed, revealing only the hexagonal structure and the painting—or opened, where pressing the top activates the film. The story follows the artist Ben, whose new muse, Magdalena, disrupts her relationship with Hedda and Paul.
Alongside the installation, I wrote a thesis titled The Narrative Video Sculpture – When Performing Arts Seek to Marry Visual Arts.
Cast: Nina Siewert, Mirjam Birkl, Lisa Marie Hahn, Jonathan Peller
Director of Photography: Océane Maître
Production Design: Iris Zimmermann
Editor: Kai Bestek
Titels & Support: Lucca Donalies
Set Sound: Linus Gramm
Support in Carpentry: Max Hinger
just to name a few involved!
Reflections on the Video Sculpture:
My bachelor film was shown on three screens—but it wasn’t just an installation, nor was it a random collection of screens, three projections, or three smartphones placed side by side. It was precisely these three screens, framed in wood, mounted on a hexagonal base that housed the computer. The screens were movable.
At the beginning, or whenever the film wasn’t being watched, they remained closed—forming a triangle, like a modern triptych. To watch the film, the viewer had to approach it, touch it, open the two movable screens, and then press a button to start the playback.
Presenting the film across three channels didn’t just add spatial depth to the apparatus—it also altered the nature of montage itself. Unlike traditional single-screen works, where editing occurs solely in time, here, it unfolded in both time and space.
A film about a polyamorous relationship destroyed by the partners’ own jealousy is best experienced in a small, intimate group—perhaps three people, or just a handful. It is something private. The object itself feels private. Initially closed, it requires the viewer to engage with it physically, to open it. And once opened, they are inside—inside the sculpture, inside the relationship.
