Duchamp, the father of conceptual art, Broodthaers, Meireles, Michael Craig Martin and his seminal “An Oak Tree”, Richard Long, and the amazing Louise Bourgeois — between them have produced an incredible and enduring body of experimental and boundary-pushing works of art. The argument still rages, of course, regarding our definition of art and whether these pieces should fit within those pre-defined boundaries. To me there is no argument, and the intense feelings of fascination and intrigue, the urge to delve further and deeper, are paramount — when I stand before these works there is no question of their creative integrity.

I was luck enough to be given “This Not That” for Christmas, a DVD of John Baldessari and his conceptual work since the 1960s. I visited his 2009 exhibition at the Tate Modern quite a few times, it kept just pulling me back. His earlier work, in particular the experimental work of the 60s and 70s, stands tall in the conceptual world. Every piece made me want to rush out with my camera and my brushes and play, just to try out a fraction of the ideas he pushes around canvas, film and paper.

The DVD is a fascinating portrait of the man, filmed in 2006, presented as a long interview with the artist and his friends — he takes us around National City to the places where he took the photos which formed the body of work of the same name. We see him in his studio  producing work, teaching his students, and supervising the installation of works. We even get to see archive footage of him destroying his older works in 1970. Relatively humble, Baldessari comes across as a normal everyday man, an artist for the people.

The concept which appeals to me most, the overriding theme which carries his work beyond the crowd, is the elevation of the ordinary to the extraordinary. I identify with this theme on all levels, and it’s something I have developed in my creative, photographic and written work since the 1990s, and it’s what my work has always aspired to. I hope I can do the concept justice.

But plot takes a back seat here to the minimalist characterisation and beautifully subtle cinematography — the art direction owes a lot to the style of Jarmusch and Wenders’ Paris, Texas, with long deliberate pauses in the editing and a pace that is some way beyond leisurely. This is a really “slow” film, it just doesn’t feel the need to get anywhere in a hurry. Static camera and extended sound-only black screens, together with an absence of incidental music give the scenes enormous aural detail — you can literally hear a pin drop. At the post-premiere Q&A session Eimbcke suggested that the black screens were more of an economic decision than an art directional one, but they suit the treatment very well.

This is the beauty of the movie, it’s just dripping with understated atmosphere — the handful of characters sit delicately within the arid surroundings, never feeling the need to move or talk at any pace. Favourites include the Bruce Lee obsessed mechanic and the punk shop assistant who discovers Juan’s talent for babysitting. This film won’t be to everyone’s tastes — its minimal take on plot and pace will leave many cold, but if you can stick with it you’ll discover a film with an awful lot to say about dealing with loss.

The brainchild of film-maker and curator Aaron Rose, the Beautiful Losers show revolves around the work of a group of artists, musicians and film-makers brought together by the love of making it themselves. What started as a place to hang out with each other and drink became an increasingly important gallery for emerging talent in 90s New York.

After interviewing over 70 creatives involved in the project, Aaron and his co-director had the unenviable task of sifting through the footage and telling the stories of just 12 of those people. The result of that effort is a tightly edited documentary in which each artist is given time to bring their work and thoughts to life.

Was it worth the wait? Absolutely. The film is far from perfect — others have noted that it skirts the issue of commercialism in their work and their attitudes towards it, as many were picked up by large corporations as their fame developed. There’s also a distinct lack of sculpture on show which was explained by Aaron in the post-movie Q&A being down to the fact that “we don’t like sculpture.”

But ultimately this is an incredibly uplifting, colourful and inspiring romp around the streets of New York, Los Angeles and San Francisco with a very likeable bunch of characters. There are many genuinely funny moments throughout and you’ll find yourself wanting to walk out of the cinema and pick up a paintbrush almost immediately, their enthusiasm is just superbly infectious.