Haftor and I spoke a good deal about moving image artworks. One thing that fascinates me is the fact that the form is so young that any project feels like an experiment; that the boundaries, the parameters and conventions of the medium have yet to become fully accepted let alone in any way ossified. A film maker needs always to ask themselves what is a suitable subject to be filmed for this kind of exhibition medium, and what is the appropriate treatment.

We talked about Joachim Koester, whose Tarantism (2007), like this jazz project, takes something that is generated by music and strips out the sound to create a visual spectacle whose fresh context endows it with new meaning. And I was reminded too of my conversation with Sally O'Reilly. After we had met I found myself thinking about Marina Abramović and her work Imponderabilia (1977). Haftor knew the work; he had performed a response to the exhibition From Death to Death and Other Small Tales, which is still playing for another week or so at the National Gallery of Modern Art, and which features a couple of pieces of hers.

The crux of Imponderabilia, as Sally O'Reilly explained in her talk the other day, is the reactions of the people coming into the gallery space: do they turn to face Abramović or Ulay? And do they make eye contact as they inevitably brush up against these naked, deadpan bodies? After my chat with O'Reilly about distanciation I pondered whether the work was more powerful as video footage or if the viewer saw the performance at the time it was staged. Self consciousness would meant most spectators at the original performance would have been hard pressed to watch it for long. But a camera is impersonal and soon forgotten. Its unrelenting eye enables us to study the performance as long as we wish without embarrassment. The camera transforms us into voyeurs and seems to me to complete the work, not to weaken it.