A brief approach to the meaning of “The touch in cinema” in the survival of the archive in Harun Farocki’s: Der Ausdruck der Hände (The expression of hands)
Silveira, Rodolfo Nuno Anes (2018) Breve aproximação ao significado de “O toque em cinema” na sobrevivência do arquivo no filme de Harun Farocki: Der Ausdruck der Hände. Revista Eikón, jornal on semiotics and culture. ISSN 2183-6426. 3, (9), Janeiro-junho. 93-99. DOI: 10.20287/eikon-n03-a09
The archive plays a very special role in the cinema of Harun Farocki (Nový Jicin, Neutitschein, Sudetengau: now Czech Republic). In his training as a director at the German Film and Television Academy Berlin (dffb), he was strongly influenced by Bertolt Brecht and Jean-Luc Godard, who contributed significantly to his first non-narrative films/essays on the politics of images. The film Der Ausdruck der Haende (30 min. Video-BetaSp, 1:1,37 ) 07.09.1997), produced by Harun Farocki Filmproduktion (Berlin) for WDR – Westdeutscher Rundfunk, gathers different readings (in single scenes of film history) in which hands organize the image and the narrative. Through the analysis of a documentary film by Harun Farocki, an attempt is made to approach the meaning of “touch in cinema”.
Keywords: anachronism, memory and survival of the archive
O arquivo tem um papel muito especial no cinema de Harun Farocki (Nový Jicin, Neutitschein, Sudetengau: hoje Républica Checa). Em Berlim, na formação como realizador na Academia Alemã de Cinema e Televisão de Berlim (dffb), foi bastante influenciado por Bertolt Brecht e por Jean-Luc Godardque muito contribuíram para os seus primeiros filmes/ensaios não narrativos sobre a política de imagens. O filme Der Ausdruck der Hände (30 min. Video-BetaSp, 1:1,37 ) 07.09.1997), produzido por Harun Farocki Filmproduktion (Berlim) para a WDR – Westdeutscher Rundfunk, recolhe várias leituras (em cenas individuais da história do cinema) em que as mãos organizam a imagem e a narrativa. A partir da análise a um filme-documentário de Harun Farocki esboça-se uma tentativa de aproximação ao significado de “o toque em cinema”
Palavras-chave: anacronismo, memória e sobrevivência do arquivo
Harun Farocki is more of an archeologist (of history) than a filmmaker. He explores the history of representations in order to question and challenge them. He is a dedicated researcher, able to explore the history of the moving image, and he knows how to involve the viewer’s eye, asking him to participate in the construction and analysis of the images. His work is a manifesto, an attitude that an artist can and should adopt when questioning reality.
Der Ausdruck der Hände was shot in 1997 and many say it is reminiscent of Hartmut Bitomsky’s video essays. In each case, Farocki uses an installation of two video monitors – as many as one person can operate with their hands – to annotate various clips from feature films and documentaries with his explanatory voice. He also uses other media (books, especially “Gestology and Acting for Film Actors”  by Dyk Rudenski) as a block on which he sketches the main settings; and with his own hands he illustrates in a representative (and active) way what is happening on the video screens. The result is a fragmented narrative around the motto “The Hands”. In this sense, the hand is not only a vehicle for sign language, but also a working tool.
2. Analysis of the documentary film: Der Ausdruck der Hände
The film begins with an analysis of a sequence of conflicting shots.
In an excerpt from Samuel Fuller’s Pickup on South Street (1953), Farocki emphasizes the importance of the dramatic construction of the scale of the shots, as well as the essential role of the hand and face in the chosen scene: a man seduces a young lady on the subway. The young lady is attracted to him and does not even notice that the evasive hand of the thief seizes the contents of the bag she carries on her shoulder. The face, a plan so beloved in cinema, lies, says the opposite of what the hand does; thus the instinctive sincerity of the hand is reinforced, an essential element of the dramaturgy.
|Figure 01||Figure 02||Figure 03|
“The thief makes a careless face as the hand tries to approach. The hand does something different than the face suggests. The thief opens the woman’s purse, the woman opens her lips, then it appears that the thief has opened his lips. The woman looks seduced rather than robbed. The hand commits a crime and seems to create a seduction” (Farocki, 1997: 2’43”) (Figure 1, 2, 3).
By drawing the most important settings on a block, Farocki analyzes and deconstructs the scene. He involves us and thus gives us the opportunity to participate in his research.
With the film Betrayed by a Handprint (1908) by D.W. Griffith, the importance of montage as well as the illusion it creates is questioned. Recall that the only close-up and the first close-up in the history of cinema is that of the hand (“Hand”). A woman in pajamas balances on the window sill to hide jewelry (which she stole from the apartment next door) in a soap: this is an action film (“Handlung”) . In montage, which was still underdeveloped in Griffith’s work, it is difficult to identify the image fragments (sections of the overall plan, now the normal narrative of cinema) that are necessary for an effective understanding of the film’s plot. In other words, the action and conflict of the scene were conveyed through exaggerated and flawed pantomime. Farocki introduces sign language through the book “Introduction to Sign Language and its Exploration”. The language (“which like any other is strange to those who do not know it”)  uses the hand as the primary tool of communication at the service of the human being. The dialogue is constant; the expression of the hand has continuous meaning: “Frozen hands should think about the tool of service that hands are”  (figures 4 e 5). The uselessness of such an instrument translates the condition of human dependence on this coupled tool.
|Figure 4||Figure 5|
“Here a man is trying to warm his hands, which have become numb. The frozen hands cannot hold the match, their only chance to warm themselves. The numb hands should make you think: What a useful tool the hands are! What the human hand means is misrepresented here” (Farocki, 1997: 6’56”).
In the excerpt from Alfred Hitchcock’s North by Northwest (1959), the elemental function of the hand is emphasized. In the mountains, in one of Hitchcock’s most exciting and famous scenes, Cary Grand, clinging to the edge of a cliff, tries to save Eva Marie Sant, who, about to fall, asks for help by offering him her hand. The scene is interrupted as soon as the pursuer spots her and steps on Cary’s hand. There remains the notion of a chain of life linked in the final bulwark of survival: the hand is the last resort, it is the link to life. The transitivity of objects eternally connected to the hand plays a dominant role in the cinematic narrative. On one of the monitors we see four pairs of hands exchanging money with each other one after the other. It is a clip from a propaganda film of the USA (1934 to 1937), in which the mass acquisition of labor is advertised. The money circulates in the hand that can do anything. The duality of the expression of the hand is once again described in the book “Gestology and Representation for Film Actors” . From this point, the author begins to study human interaction in relation to the position of the hand: the palm (the inner part) is sensitive and fragile and has the function of protecting and caressing; the back of the hand (the outer part) is dry and strong and has the function of protecting and defending.
This is the duality represented through the images below: respect and intimacy (figure 6), aggression and caress (figure 7).
|Figure 6||Figure 7|
The revolution in Jean-Luc Godard’s Le Petit Soldat (1963) brings forth the fist as a symbol of strength and resistance. The closed fist (with the back to the person shown) is synonymous with threat; turned over, the hand shows the weak part; held up, raised, it says that it is not afraid and is determined to fight; it is thus synonymous with revolution, the opposite of threat. The hand can be turned and viewed from all sides; it is the only part of the body that can be admired from all perspectives. It can be a place for the eyes, as if it were a mirror; it can be a writing surface, a canvas, or a stage for an imaginary world. For the viewer, it is much more than a hand; it is what the eye can imagine.
The famous scene from Un Chien Andalou (1929) by Luis Buñuel illustrates this feeling masterfully: the actor looks expectantly at the tingling in his hand (Figure 8). Farocki illustrates and synthesizes it pedagogically by writing the three possibilities on his palm: Paper, Stage, and Canvas (Figure 9). In this case, Farocki says, although it is a large palm, it cannot be said to be an action film. The actor’s gaze transforms into Buñuel’s film as he admires the spectacle taking place in the palm of his hand (“stage”). So there is no “Handlung”, that is, no action with the hand.
|Figure 8||Figure 9|
In the same book “Gestology and Acting for Film Actors” , declares the intention to create a new sign language for film actors. He also announces the opening of a school for actors that did not exist before (1997). In connection with this information, Farocki again shows a series of images that refer to propaganda films of the United States (1934-1937), in which he underlines, through a careful selection, the will to promote the function of the hand at work. According to the film clip and in his opinion, the function of the hand at work is very limited: Holding, grasping, bringing (“hinlangen, greifen, bringen”). The author of the book even proposes a curriculum in which the study of Taylorism and the economics of movement is considered important in the third semester. Farocki criticizes the scientific, irrational, and dehumanized attitude of the principles of Frederick Taylor’s management theory: the introduction of the stopwatch in factories, the optimization of workers’ movements for greater efficiency, etc. He also says that until now (1997) the relationship between the movements of the work gesture and the gesture in the cinematic narrative – the hand that plays the piano, the hand that works – the pianist and the worker – has not been taken into account.
In a film entitled Play of Hands  there are no faces, only images of hands to support the plot. The first image is that of a pianist, who in Farocki’s opinion is the main “labor” worker in cinema. “The cinema shows the pianist’s hand as appetizingly as the hand that grips a revolver” . In a concise and general analysis of the strategy of the individual images of the same film, one finds a common denominator: the function of the hand as a montage-deciding element. The images function like a guessing game. You understand what is shown and immediately fulfill the function. The exception is one of the images in the film: the hands of a mother clinging to an iron bed, trying to overcome the pain of childbirth (Figure 10). This image, Farocki says, would also appear in a film in which the hands are not the central object.
The birth produced two sons, one of them a pianist, who later lost a hand in the war. This misfortune of life left him forever and ever with a hook at the end of his arm as a bargaining chip. Once again, Farocki’s explanatory voiceover clarifies the basic framework of a pianist’s playing. When it comes to piano playing, most cameras tend to cut off the hands from the rest of the body (Figure 11). Peter Lorre’s The Beast with Five Fingers (1946) is a fine example of a hand failing a man. A pianist who has lost his hands in an accident is sewn to the hands of a man accused of murder. These strange hands, with their murderous instinct, make themselves independent and take over his will. In an image from Luis Buñuel’s Un Chien Andalou (1929), we see a man looking at a severed hand in the middle of the square and poking it with his cane. Farocki compares how many hands are severed in war or on camera (Figure 12). The hands of the pianist and the factory worker (Figure 13), which are separated from his body, also simply perform the desired service. In the Army Pictural Service – Signal Corps propaganda film Hands (1944), this relationship is evident: the film begins with the pianist’s hands and ends with those of the military worker.
|Figure 11||Figure 12||Figure 13|
In the advertisement the call to action is striking:
“Hands paralyzed by pain are disabled hands that can never do normal things. Such hands should be snatched from such people. Close your hands – clench your fist. The strong hands of America, more fists of rage. The hands of millions of workers who give their skill, their love, their strength. Hands that grind, fit, hammer, shape, cast, test, build, fight. Hands for the final blow. Let us get it over with!” (Figure 14) (Army Pictural Service, 1944) (Farocki, 1997: 22’07”).
Farocki sketches a piano keyboard and the pianist’s hand on the pad. He then introduces a new sequence of images from a Nazi propaganda film: Workers watching machines make weapons. For Farocki, it is interesting to see the oil-smeared hands of these workers gliding with gentleness over the newborn war material. It is a ritual, then, as an excerpt from a book on archeological laws suggests:
“Touch, as a mere gesture of touch, is originally a magical action. This is the most obvious and ancient form of swearing. A pagan magical object cannot be caressed or held. Only through touch does it acquire the status of the enchanted” (Schwerin, 1943) (Farocki, 1997: 23’53”).
This film was released following the bloody battle of Stalingrad in 1943. Farocki considers that “for the workersthere is every reason to use magic gestures.” The film excerpt is interrupted when the weapons manufacturing machine suddenly stops. On one of the monitors, images are circulating from a magazine-weekly on European culture produced by the Nazis in March 1945. In this video you don’t find “blown-up houses, soldiers, warehouses, dead people or cars. Back are the workers, back is the dexterity at your fingertips.” All you can see, in a small workshop, is a builder turning wood into violins.
Farocki draws and analyzes the two images (the pianist’s hand and the military man’s hand sliding war equipment under his fingers) (Figure 15) to prove that cinema is not a medium of touch, but is based on vision. “Most tactile sensations are translated into looks in cinema”
Farocki’s hand comes into the picture in a strange way, as if it were a crab (Figure 16). He says that “every child imagines a hand that runs away and does forbidden things”. The opening sequence of Samuel Fuller’s Pickup on South Street (1953), in which the young woman attracted to the subway is stolen by the seducer, is replayed. As if it were an illusion, the same scene now has a different meaning. All finger movements are controlled by a new perception that runs through the entire documentary (Figure 17).
|Figure 15||Figure 16||Figure 17|
The evil autonomous hand in Peter Lorre’s The Beast with Five Fingers (1946) is also nailed to the piano in retaliation. Not putting up with this snub, it sets the house on fire and strangles its owner: “the hand that brings death.” (figure 18). We immediately see a scene from a western: the hand grabs the rifle and shoots a cowboy who falls lifeless to the ground and drops the iron bullet that was hidden in his hand, i.e. “the hand that announces death”. (figure 19). On the opposite monitor, a starving soldier is shot as he reaches for a can of food: “The will leaves the body, the hand loses its grip.”  (figure 20).
|Figure 18||Figure 19||Figure 20|
Farocki (whom we see in the reflection of the monitor) repeats the same scene, this time a little slower, as if to show us the most important thing in the hand; and every time the hand drops it, “the essence of life is free”.
3. The touch in cinema
The sense of touch is represented in cinema by the hand. It carries, or must carry, the sensory perceptions in the film into images. In the history of cinema, shots have evolved on a scale of size from close-up to close-up. The human face, the most popular shot, is limited to showing what the face hides: the detail of the action and what the sensory world reveals. The hand, as the center of cinematographic interest, has the power to convey the instinct, the illusion of touch: The filmed hand challenges the imagination and creates the possibility of entering new worlds. The innate knowledge of body language translates an unconscious knowledge of the grammar of the hand. Instinct, the defender of a body’s survival, is limited to providing cues that do little or almost nothing to make us think about the necessity and adaptability of this tool. Cinema translates this language, often imperceptibly to the more distracted gazes in the movie theater that, between popcorn and lemonade, brilliantly follow the revelation of a crime or the unveiling of a forbidden love affair. It is in this vast attention span that all these subliminal messages are conveyed. Just as we do not pay attention to the doorknobs on a survey map, we often do not look at the dirt under the fingernails in a close-up of hands. The hand carries a lot of information: age, social status, mental state, physical condition, state of mind, etc. But the function it performs is much more than esthetic. It has the ability to grasp, build, seek, touch, etc. Although these qualities are underlying, visible and present, it is the movement that attracts us. The instinctive function of survival or hunting makes us smarter and more alert when something is moving. Therefore, it is easy to understand that in the scene from Samuel Fuller’s Pickup on South Street (1953), shown at the very beginning of the video essay, the focus of attention is on the action, the skill of the thief, and the coveted object: in this case, money.
3.1. Objects in transit
The transitivity of objects or the demonstrated will to have them is extremely stated in Bresson’s cinema. An author that according to Deleuze connects the small visual spaces (without premeditated connection) through the hand , highlights its function and gives it the whole main role. It is the triangle (money, victim, thief) that keeps us in anticipation and suspense throughout the film. Just as in the excerpt from Samuel Fuller’s film, the seduction scene is as detailed and well crafted as the robbery scene. It is this comparison that raises the moral question behind an action. Farocki poses the same question the moment he juxtaposes the pianist’s hand and the military worker’s hand. The actions depicted are also opposites at the same time: The possibility of an action is inherent in the will of the body and the motivations that guide it; and they support each other insofar as both choose a moral judgment: a third image, a conclusion. This is the position of the cinema spectator, who is only allowed to develop this kind of thought and therefore cannot intervene in the action or the device. That is why touches are only imaged in cinema. The cinema is connected with seeing and not with touching.
4. Anachronism and memories
Harun Farocki completely abandons (in this film) the chronological order of the selected images. Using films from the beginning of the century to 1963, with Jean-Luc Godard, various examples are presented for reflection.
However, there is a clearly defined line that runs throughout the film. Like the object of study in a scholarly article or the main character in a film story, Harun Farocki’s Der Ausdruck der Hände (1997) is structured in Syd Field’s famous three-act structure: Exposition – Confrontation – Resolution. In a brief and concise analysis, we can see in the first act a clear introduction to the object of study: the functionality, vitality and power of the hand as a tool in the moving image. In the second act, the relationship between hand and tool is confronted and the different variations of this relationship are revealed: the hand as a tool of communication, rescue, construction, defense, war, fantasy, imagination, labor, and magical touch. Farocki’s intention to construct a discourse on the film worker, the factory worker, and the war worker is possibly based on the stories told in the family about the atrocities of the Great War II and on a deep and didactic desire to clarify and expose the manipulation of images and to propose and demand a new analytical and insightful look at the production of images and actions. The third act is about mediating the dichotomy between the two worlds of life. The hand that takes life and the life that comes from the hand. The proposal for reflection is clear and explicit. So there is an order, a predefined plot, a chronological intention in the selection of the filmed excerpts.
4.1. The archive and the domino piece
The archive (an essential tool in Harun Farocki’s work) brings with it a whole set of enduring properties that allow the interpreter to take a fresh look and reconnect the past time with the present.
“The way in which the past receives the mark of a higher actuality is given by the image in which it is comprehended. And this dialectical penetration, this capacity to make past correlations present, is the proof of the truth of present action. This means that it lights the wick of the explosive that lies in what once was” (Benjamin, 1982 : k 2, 3).
Just as Walter Benjamin, walking through ruined Paris, marveled at the amount of history that lay beneath the rubble of the French capital, trying to imagine a panorama painted in the deconstructed iron landscape, so too is the film archive endowed with such an effect. It is inserted from the beginning in a city of shelves: cataloged, dated and provided with a right to remain. A film, then, is just one of the buildings in this city with one or more inhabitants, with several apartments or even just one big house: it has a history, a certain internal chronology, different from all the others. If we were to isolate a moment of this story (a living room of this apartment) and analyze it on its own, we would not understand a large part of the motivations for the actions or the states of mind of the protagonists, because a part of the plot would be destroyed. It is absolutely necessary to mention that a picture taken out of context is like a domino lying on the living room floor waiting for someone to come and tell it which box it belongs to. If we were to dig even deeper to uncover and deconstruct the idea of dominoes, we would first have to describe what a film actually is. A frame is the tiniest part of a film. In the normal format of a motion picture 24 frames per second are projected, a filmed shot is a series of frames, a scene is a series of shots, a film is a series of scenes. So the domino piece that we left on the floor is not really lost, but it is waiting for a new context. It is important to realize that from this point on, the image acquires a new intrinsic value and becomes valuable itself: “Before the image, we are always before time” (Didi-Huebermann, 2000: 9).
4.2. The internal value of the image – the survival of the archive
“Photography is the truth. Cinema is truth in 24 images,” says Bruno Forestier, the protagonist of Jean-Luc Godard’s Le Petit Soldat (1963) (a film also chosen by Farocki) in one of cinema’s most famous quotes. The point here is not to highlight the revolutionary intentions of the Nouvelle Vague, but rather to emphasize the importance of the intrinsic value of an image. The puzzle piece, even if lost and taken out of the box, contains intrinsic value and the possibility of fitting into another concatenation. By juxtaposing images, the archive potentiates its anachronistic value.
“…connection by analogy is the constituent law or principle of metaphorical thought, its nexus, since meaning arises only through the causal connection by which a sign answers, takes the place of something, produces a parallel, is the field of connection…” (Kosuth, 2006: 214).
The survival of an archive depends on its adaptability to possible reuse; on the formal competition of similar images, the novelty of the plot, and the persuasiveness of its intrinsic value. Farocki also plays with all these elements, selecting all the film clips necessary for a worthy coloring and clarification of the idea he has given. In the hands of the people lies the entire metaphorical, symbolic and timeless value of the plot. In its movement is anchored one of the most moving collective memories of humanity.
“Human reality consists only of examples and individual cases, but we understand the behaviors, gestures, and attitudes of our fellow human beings. It is therefore an analogous semiosis that cinema must provide, namely the ‘semiology of reality in its natural state'” (Aumont, 2004 : 29).
Farocki builds his plot on this intrinsic value of the image and constructs his own chronology. He takes excerpts from films from the archive of memories to create another archive, another memory: He lets them survive once again.
Strange as it may sound, a phased reading of Harun Farocki’s documentary allows us a slight approach to the concept of touch in cinema and brings it closer to the haptic concept: the result of what happens when the touch of a device triggers a visual or auditory response (which can be reduced or amplified). In fact, behind the touch of a virtual button is a concept that translates the opening of an image or a sound; an opening that can be said to live in the fingertips. The great advantage of the fine analysis of Harun Farocki’s documentary (with its emphasis on the multi-layered role of hands) is to discover the place where the specialization of hands and fingers (even of each individual finger) can be made visible as they trigger (in the film) new images and movements. A telling example is the changing behavior of the characters depending on the role of the hands.
As benjamin further writes: “The pleasure one derives from the world of images […] is nourished by a somber challenge to knowledge. (Benjamin, 1933: 230) And nothing is more necessary for knowledge than to accept this challenge (Didi-Huebermann, 2000: 180).
Aumont, J. (2004) As teorias dos cineastas, São Paulo: Papirus
Benjamin, W. (1933) Breves ombres II [Obras Escolhidas II] , Images de pensée [Imagens do Pensamento] (pp. 143-277), São Paulo: Editora Brasiliense
Benjamin, W. (1982) Das Passagen-Werk (1927-1940), Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag
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Didi-Huberman, G. (2000). Devant le temps – Histoire de l’art et anachronisme des images: Les Éditions de Minut.
Farocki, W. E. a. H. (2004). Towards and Archive of Visual Concepts” in Harun Farocki: Working on the Sightlines.Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, Thomas Elsaesser.
Farocki, H. (Writer). (1997). Ausdruck der Hände [Video-BetaSp]. In B. Harun Farocki. Filmproduktion, für den WDR (Producer).
Field, S. (1979). Screenplay: The Foundations of Screenwriting. New York, New York, USA: Bantam Dell | A Division of Random House, Inc.
Kosuth, J. (2006) A arte depois da filosofia: Escritos de Artistas anos 60/70, Rio de Janeiro: Zahar
Rudenski, D. (1927) Gestologie und Filmspielerei. Berlim: Hoboken Press
Schwerin, S. K. v. A. a. C. v. (1943). Gegenstände, Formen und Symbole germanischen Rechts. Teil I: Einführung in die Rechtsarchäologie. Berlin: Ahnenerbe-Foundation.
Vicent, J.-D. (2010). Viagem extraordinária ao centro do Cérebro. Alfragide – Portugal: Texto editores.
Ausdruck der Hände (1997), de Harun Farocki
Arbeiter Verlassen die Fabrik (1995), de Harun Farocki
Betrayed by a Handprint (1908), de D.W. Griffith
Gefängnisbilder (2001), de Harun Farocki
Le Petit Soldat (1963), de Jean-Luc Godard
Hands (1944), de Army Pictural Service – Signal Corps
Un Chien andalou (1929), de Luis Buñel
North by Northwest (1959), de Alfred Hitchcock
Pickup on South Street (1953), de Samuel Fuller
The Beast with Five Fingers (1946), de Peter Lorre
Wie man sieht (1986), de Harun Farocki
 Rudenski, D. (1927) Gestologie und Filmspielerei. Berlim: Hoboken Press
 Palavra alemã que significa ação.
 Braem P. B. (1990) Einführung in die Gebärdensprache und ihre Erforschung, Hamburg: Signum-Verlag
 Farocki, H. (Writer). (1997). Ausdruck der Hände [Video-BetaSp]. In B. Harun Farocki Filmproduktion, für den WDR (Producer), 6’20’’
 Idem, ibidem, 7’18’’
 Rudenski, D. (1927) Gestologie und Filmspielerei. Berlim: Hoboken Press
 Rudenski, D. (1927) Gestologie und Filmspielerei. Berlim: Hoboken Press
 Das ist ein abwegiges Vorhaben, vergleichbar denen, in der Badewanne das Meer zu überqueren oder auf Händen den Kontinent. (Este é um plano desonesto, comparável àqueles na banheira para atravessar o mar ou no continente.)
Farocki, H. (Writer). (1997). Ausdruck der Hände [Video-BetaSp]. In B. Harun Farocki Filmproduktion, für den WDR (Producer), 18’46’’
 Idem, ibidem, 18’04’’
 Idem, ibidem, 19’03’’
 Idem, ibidem, 19’47’’
 Farocki, H. (Writer). (1997). Ausdruck der Hände [Video-BetaSp]. In B. Harun Farocki Filmproduktion, für den WDR (Producer): 21’28’’
 Farocki, H. (Writer). (1997). Ausdruck der Hände [Video-BetaSp]. In B. Harun Farocki Filmproduktion, für den WDR (Producer): 24’23’’
 Idem, ibidem, 25’30’’
 Idem, ibidem, 26’43’’
 Idem, ibidem, 27’07’’
 Farocki, H. (Writer). (1997). Ausdruck der Hände [Video-BetaSp]. In B. Harun Farocki Filmproduktion, für den WDR (Producer), 27’28’’
 Idem, ibidem, 28’20’’
 Idem, ibidem, 28’43’’
 Farocki, H. (Writer). (1997). Ausdruck der Hände [Video-BetaSp]. In B. Harun Farocki Filmproduktion, für den WDR (Producer), 29’02’’
 Conferência “What is a creative act?”, Escola de cinema La Fémis, Paris, 1987
 Aqui refere-se somente o modo clássico de exibição de filmes em sala de cinema.