It’s cold. The faint glow of a few space heaters doesn’t stand a chance in the high-ceilinged hall and 12,000-square foot area of the New York Center for Media Arts (NYCMA) in Long Island City.

I think I was 16 when I had my first experimental film experience. Shortly after my mother told me the story of how my father managed to seduce her into his downtown apartment (on the 5th date) with promises of a private 8mm film screening of Fritz Lang’s Metropolis, I convinced my father to haul out the projector.