The Magic Flute by Stephen Mathewson
This extract from my short documentary about artist Stephen Mathewson captures one of those rare moments where humour, imagination, and conceptual depth all align.
It’s a perfect example of the kind of intimate, revealing footage that makes the work of a documentary videographer so rewarding. In this scene, Stephen reflects on an accidental sculpture titled Magic Flute, created from packaging materials—and in doing so, offers a window into his entire artistic worldview.
“The packaging that all the paintings came on were a plastic tube and cardboard tube glued together. It ended up looking like a flute somehow abstractly so we decided to paint it gold and call it Magic Flute.”
It’s a classic Stephen Mathewson moment: playful, surreal, and deceptively profound. A plastic and cardboard tube becomes the most incredible flute in the world—not because it works, but because it doesn’t.
Making the Invisible Visible
Stephen goes on to describe how the original idea was simply to place a small card on the wall that said “Magic Flute”—no object, no literal flute, just the suggestion of one.
“No flutes of regular flutes but the magic one is invisible.”
What I love about this extract—and what made it essential to include in the documentary—is the way it captures Stephen’s instinct to subvert expectations. His work is rarely about producing traditional outcomes. Instead, he foregrounds the process, the gesture, and the conceptual leap. As a documentary videographer, I found it fascinating to capture that tension between the physical and the imagined—how something unseen could be more powerful than anything we could show directly on camera.
The Absurd as Art Practice
Filming Stephen is always a process of staying open. His stories spiral, loop, and land unexpectedly. In this clip, the “flute” evolves from a painted prop into a commentary on ambition, imagination, and the joyful pointlessness of some creative acts.
“This one turns into the magical… 20 billion pound flute… the most incredible flute in the world and it’s beyond Magic.”
As a documentary videographer, I’m always drawn to this kind of reflection—not just because it’s funny, but because it opens a wider space for thinking about what art can be. The Magic Flute is deliberately non-functional: it’s unplayable, its holes are too big. But that’s the point. If it could somehow play, Stephen says, it would produce “an amazing loud deep enjoyable sound… a new meaning to flute music.”
These are the kinds of layered, unexpected insights I aim to uncover through my work as a documentary videographer. Whether filming in studios, on location, or in makeshift galleries, I try to create space for artists to express thoughts that don’t always surface in formal interviews or written statements.
Filming with the Sony Z5
This was the first documentary I filmed using the Sony Z5. It was an upgrade at the time—my first proper step into professional video after using borrowed or consumer-grade gear. The Z5’s image quality, onboard XLR sound, and compact form made it ideal for the shoot. I was still learning how to operate it confidently, but Stephen’s warmth and unpredictability turned the shoot into a playful experiment. That feeling of discovery—the camera, the artist, the space—was something I hadn’t experienced in quite the same way before.
We shot handheld, using available light inside Stephen’s cluttered, welcoming studio. The Z5’s flexibility allowed me to quickly adapt to his spontaneous way of talking and moving. This was not a setup with lighting rigs or shot lists. It was about responding to the artist in the moment—and trusting the gear to keep up. It was a fitting first run for a documentary videographer interested in capturing spontaneous, intimate moments of artistic expression.
About the Documentary
The full (short) documentary will focus on Stephen Mathewson’s upcoming solo exhibition “My Heart Spins on the Grill” at Fishmarket Gallery in Northampton. The show is set to bring together Stephen’s site-specific paintings and quirky performance ideas, culminating in a celebratory “Grill Party” opening event—a traditional American-style barbeque complete with live music and surreal humour.
The exhibition promises to weave together eccentric fictional characters—such as Charles, a man haunted by his father’s murder, and Cat Fischermann, a comedian who faked his own death—alongside playful, improvisational installations that invite audiences to reimagine what an art space can be.
This is exactly the kind of story I seek out as a documentary videographer—unsung, unconventional exhibitions full of life, imagination, and artistic risk. It’s not just about documenting objects on walls; it’s about capturing ideas in motion, the humour and honesty that sit behind the work, and the artists who often go unseen.
If you enjoyed this extract, keep an eye out for the full documentary. You can also explore more of my films about artists and exhibitions here:
👉 alanfentiman.co.uk/vimeo-videos/artist-films/