This film picks up from the snail telegraph’s last known location (a Parisian sports hall); philosopher and snail Justin Erik Halldór Smith is our escort through the technological premise of the device and the ruse it generated.
The snail telegraphy was built in 1883. This was the first technology deemed capable of wireless communications but also a complete and utter scam. The device’s inventor Jules Allix fused action at a distance and animal magnetism to tap into the romantic era’s pulse, capitalising on the rise of the occult to reach the unknown by attempting to harness the sympathetic bonds of mated snails.
Utilising before slowly disarming the familiar tropes of the traditional documentary (the expert male voice), The snail telegraph is invisible but gently asks for your attention through subtitles and the sound space. It points the lens back out, looking for sympathy and interpretations of technology in the sports that once surrounded it.
While this device no longer exists, it inspires us to look for technology in places where it might seem absent.
The device’s inventor Jules Allix fused action at a distance and animal magnetism to tap into the romantic era’s pulse, capitalising on the rise of the occult to reach the unknown by attempting to harness the sympathetic bonds of mated snails. Today, witchcraft has returned as we scramble to create new patterns of understanding, in this climate where the old narratives are failing, politically/socially and sympathy is still being sought. We want more natural forces to come to light, to connect the disparate strands and answer the irrational.
Through this work (video, installation and textile work), I hope to harness these contrasting elements but also keep them from intersecting, separating the strands like the snails were themselves.
