Rebeka Mór’s animated dream is inspired by the colourful cube houses of Hungary
Atmospheric, dreamy and visceral, Rebeka’s new film is based on a collective memory – featuring soundbite interviews, Hungarian religious iconography and 3D scanned versions of her friends.
- 26 February 2020
- Ayla Angelos
- Reading Time
- 4 minutes
There’s a lonely woman sat on a bench. It’s snowing, and there’s a warm gleam of light coming from inside of the house. This is the opening scene of Rebeka Mór’s new short film, Delirium, that sees an atmospheric, digital landscape come to life through 3D software.
The digital artist, born and raised in Hungary, went to a traditional art school during her teenage years, where she learned the ropes of model drawing, bookbinding, illustration and painting. “I wasn’t introduced to digital techniques, so I pictured my future career as being pretty different,” she tells It’s Nice That.
After becoming aware of the possibilities achieved through digital art, Rebeka packed her bags and moved to the Netherlands, where she’s currently based and studying animation at the Willem de Kooning Academy in Rotterdam. “My interest shifted from drawing to 3D digital software when I was struggling to find my voice as an animator,” she continues. “I loved drawing but I had realised that I didn’t enjoy the process of hand-drawn animation.”
After landing on 3D digital animation as her medium of choice, Rebeka began to evolve her practice. She cites her creations as having a “dreamy, mysterious feeling [that’s] always present,” achieved through an experimental approach to 3D software. She builds on these surrealist worlds that are undeniably colour soaked: “I use colour and lighting as a tool to set the right tone and immerse the viewer.” And rightly so, because within Delirium, the viewer becomes instantly transcended into the hypnagogic lands of Hungary.
GalleryRebeka Mór: Delirium
Rebeka explains how Delirium is a visualisation of a collective dream. The process involved interviewing people about their own dreams, then utilising the audio clips as “puzzle pieces” to construct and deliver a new narrative. “I really enjoy talking to people and I use it as research for my concept,” she tells us. The initial concept derived from an exchange with friends discussing their dreams – something that she realised is a good conversation starter due to the fascinating stories that come of it.
While conducting the talks, there wasn’t a clear motive nor endpoint in mind, instead, Rebeka just listened. “When editing the audio and trying to make it coherent, I noticed that there were reoccurring themes such as a home or a specific part of a house,” she adds. “I decided to build a house that contains these dreams, to let the viewer move through the environment and explore it.”
Entering the house, you’re greeted by a plate of shiny peas, mash and sausages, patterned carpet, a melting chair, religious iconography and various other thoughtfully placed motifs. There are characters here, too – one sits at the stove sipping a hot drink – that are 3D scanned versions of her friends, constructed at her house in Rotterdam. “They are memory pieces melting together with the dream, making it hard to tell what is real and what’s fantasy,” explains Rebeka, drawing from the notion that our dreams are often a mix of memories and imaginary scenarios, “I thought it would be interesting to explore this notion.”
Referring to her aesthetic, Rebeka explains that the film pulls direct inspiration from Hungary and, in particular, the ways that it has influenced the artist’s identity and the work that she creates. She also grew up in a religious family which, despite it not being a large part of her life anymore, is something that she still sees and refers to in her memories. “The spark to make this film was during my trip to Hungary last summer,” she notes. “After living abroad for years, this was the first time that I got to spend a longer period in my home which allowed me to reconnect with it.” This meant that she was able to turn a fresh gaze onto her familial surroundings, witnessing a new-found beauty in it all and, in turn, creating something magical from her observations.
Continuing on this topic, Rebeka states how the house in this animated dream is influenced by Hungarian villages. “I wanted to visualise stories of other people as if they were my memories. The cube houses (also known as Kádár-Kocka) in Hungary are renowned for their bright colours and are decorated with abstract shapes, paintings or mosaics. I feel close the aesthetics and I liked the idea of recreating something old with new media.”
As for the future, Rebeka will continue to work with this medium – she’s still quite new to the digital art world, so it’s more than exciting to see where things go from here. “It’s fascinating to see how much there is to learn,” she concludes. “To fully master one software would take years, and by that time there would probably be a new one to use.”