Kelek (1968)

A long take from a basement window onto the street. Slow fading in and out of the Brüderstraße in Hamburg (where Nekes lives). A take looking from a girl's belly onto her legs and her dress. Then vagina and penis, how they complement each other. The 60 minute film is silent. The screen, as in earlier Nekes films, turns into the canvas of a painter. One is not looking into an imaginary room, one sees a flat surface which is divided, and replaced by another canvas with every cut. One impression is foremost: rigorous, cold calculation. The film stands like a monolith. Immovable. It is so very much image that it eludes adequate verbal description. One has to see it.