Upon entering the gallery, viewers are prompted to grab a set of headphones and immerse themselves in the duo’s high-velocity, madcap world. The majority of what is on display comes from video shot inside the temple, but it also draws on footage shot in the artists’ Burbank studio, on a road trip taken after the Venice Biennale, and clips from a grabbag of other time periods—some dating back to Trecartin’s high school years. Through editing, Trecartin mixes scenes from across the archive of footage that he and Fitch have created over the course of their long collaboration. When the video cuts away to a new shot, it’s hard to tell whether the scene is starting over, picking up where a previous one left off, or moving on to a new one.
At the temple, Fitch, Trecartin, and dozens of collaborators crowded into the building with GoPros, Handycams, DSLRs, drones, tripods—more or less every contemporary video capture technology available. Each person took on new and old vestiges of the artists’ ever-evolving, slippery characters; clad in shoddy costumes, wigs, and beauty products, they faced off against each other, wielding these different recording technologies. The plot they build is challenging, often slipping off into tangents and introducing new personalities. The acting is energetic, as individuals slide between roles constantly, destabilizing any sense of a fixed cast of characters. It almost feels as though the actors are trying to change faster than capture devices can record them.