Stoned
Stoned begins in silence. An image of a Buddhist monastery—a long stone corridor lined with receding columns—appears to jerk forward and slightly recede, or move tremulously back and forth. The single high notes of a piano begin to sound in a halting counterpoint to the agitated image, which fractures into a grid of rapidly pulsating segments. Cho's flickering digital manipulations disrupt the viewer's experience of processional space; his complex layering of highly saturated images results in a weave of frenetically vibrating architectural elements.
Storyline
Stoned begins in silence. An image of a Buddhist monastery—a long stone corridor lined with receding columns—appears to jerk forward and slightly recede, or move tremulously back and forth. The single high notes of a piano begin to sound in a halting counterpoint to the agitated image, which fractures into a grid of rapidly pulsating segments. Cho's flickering digital manipulations disrupt the viewer's experience of processional space; his complex layering of highly saturated images results in a weave of frenetically vibrating architectural elements.