Illuminating Journeys: A Review of ‘Tracing Light’ at DOK Leipzig

In a delightful twist reminiscent of the whimsical observations that Nora Ephron delighted in, we find ourselves embarking on a journey through light—that elusive marvel that either illuminates our world or, quite literally, lets us dive into the mysterious shadows. Thomas Riedelsheimer’s latest documentary, Tracing Light, takes us on a deep dive into this fascinating concept, mixing science with art in a way that's almost like pairing peanut butter with chocolate: unexpected yet oh-so-satisfying.

We start with a provocative quote from Albert Einstein: “The most beautiful thing we can experience is mystery.” Oh, how well this aligns with the inherent complexity of light! As we gallivant through the film, we may find ourselves picking up a few tidbits about physics—nothing too daunting, mind you—but Riedelsheimer, in his charming style, knows just how to balance a dose of knowledge with a dash of beauty. It’s accessible science wrapped in the warm blanket of artistry.

This film is the third in a trilogy that began with his 2004 exploration of sound—Touch The Sound, which had the audacity to profile a percussionist like Evelyn Glennie—followed by the visually stunning Leaning Into The Wind in 2017, focused on the land artist Andy Goldsworthy. And now, Riedelsheimer brings us light, showcasing an eclectic mix of contributors ranging from physicists to artists. It’s a melting pot of perspectives that lets us consider light’s full spectrum (pun intended!) and what it means to us helpless humans.

Anticipate a visual feast, as Tracing Light juxtaposes the awe-inspiring with the mundane. Rainbows and auroras dance across the screen, but don’t underestimate the intrigue of light playing coy on the edge of a bathroom mirror or pirouetting through a jade water bottle. It’s here, in the details, where Riedelsheimer shines—he captures beauty in moments that might pass most viewers by, much like an unnoticed glance from a lover or the quirk of a café barista that suddenly feels like art.

Meanwhile, the UK artistic duo known as Semiconductor approach the serious business of light at the Advanced Research Centre in Glasgow, where they interview Professor Daniele Faccio about light “as a material.” His playful declaration that “Photons are buggers” captures that charming blend of wit and scientific inquiry that Ephron would applaud. Wouldn’t you love to sit in on that chat? You might leave with more questions than answers, but that’s part of the allure, isn’t it?

We journey with Riedelsheimer as he veers off to Germany, where artists Johannes Brunner and Raimund Ritz find enthusiasm while playing table football with lasers (seriously, who knew physics could be this much fun?). And let’s not forget Julie Brook, a British land artist whose remarks about her tranquil masterpieces seem to echo the sentiment of searching for meaning within the chaos of existence.

In galleries filled with light-bending installations, the interaction between the viewers and the art becomes almost poetic. Bodies reaching out to touch an ungraspable beam of light feels profoundly human, a reminder of our instinctive need to connect with the unconnectable. Riedelsheimer’s films have always hinted at transformation—the eternal push and pull of change, the dance of seasons. In this light foray, we realize light itself is the pivotal transformer, capable of vivifying landscapes or, intriguingly, remaining unseen yet ever-present.

The score—crafted by Riedelsheimer’s regular collaborator, Fred Frith, along with the talented gabby fluke-mogul—echoes this blending of the concrete and the ephemeral, introducing strings that are both classic and transcendental. It’s an audible dance, just as much as the visual one that unfolds before our eyes.

And while Tracing Light dives into the philosophical appreciation of light, it cleverly brushes against the “evolving ideas” in scientific discourse. As physicists audibly marvel at the breakthroughs light might soon bestow upon us—who knows what wonders lie ahead? Perhaps the real mystery, as it so often is in life, lies just beyond our reach, glimmering invitingly and beckoning us to explore further.

As we await its release in German cinemas in January 2025, remember: light may be a complex phenomenon, but it’s also a shimmering reminder of our perpetual curiosity—a sentiment that resonates with the very essence of life itself.