"Your nimble feet make prints in my sand"

Six months and change after the release of Bjork's video collection for her latest full-length, Medulla, I finally caught up to receiving it amongst the endless list that is my Netflix queue. Receiving my e-mail notification that it'd be next in line, I asked myself how many videos from the collection I'd actually caught via Internet or television so far.


Although thoughts on this DVD release are well past the point of anyone caring, I'd still like to add my two cents.

Similar to the beauty of the "Pagan Poetry" video for 2001's Vespertine, the enveloping "Oceania" video (which you can view, here) features a diamond-studded Bjork dancing (interpretively!) in an underwater setting amongst an array of CG creatures. "Who Is It?" is a case in which Bjork uses an alternative version of the track to make a video, one that happens to be twee as all hell, as she scampers around a barren landscape in a dress made of silver bells, while little children dressed in similar garb move around like lost synchronized swimmers out of water. "Triumph Of A Heart" you may have caught on TV, as its ludicrous story of wifebeater-wearing cat and Bjork (whose character is a mix of Party Girl a la Parker Posey vs. trashy, alcoholic trailerpark chic) are lovers in quarrel, and night of rebellion on her part brings them back together. (It's cool until the cat grows to human size and starts "dancing" with her in their living room. Wtf ever, B.) "Desired Constellation" is a song that focuses heavily on the lyrics by having a minimal aesthetic - stars and the constellations they form when viewed with different outcomes of the paths that are drawn between them. And tadpoles. (I think.)

Oh yes, and floating limbs. Can't forget that.

All is well, until we get to "Where Is The Line?," a track that features Mike Patton, Rhazel, and the Icelandic Choir on vocals, and the video becomes a interpretive dance gone wrong. In a barn, Bjork is weighed down from head to toe with sacks, and from underneath her emerges a human being slathered in white paint and placenta-like gel coating its skin and oozing from its mouth. Throwing itself around to the jagged arrhythmia of the song, it is eventually covered in the barn's hay, and...well, maybe it's best for both of us if you seek it out yourself.

There are times that I understand the intricacies of Bjork's work, and others that I am simply left questioning my decade of devout fanaticism towards Bjork's art.

If you're not familiar with Bjork's career, Medulla and its video collection may be a bit too bizarre. If you're a veteran to her releases, however, it's an imperative task to get as intimate with her visual endeavors as with her sonic ones.

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