It will allow you to run 32 bit vst's in 64 bit apps like Live 9 64 bit, Presonus Studion One V2 64 bit, etc. Serial mac lookup. If 64 bit and the M1 is 32 bit Live will not see it, you will need to do one of two things, find 64 bit version or purchase JBridge as Live doesn't have this ability. And to add to 102455's questions: Live 9 32 bit or 64 bit?

Andras Horvath is on Facebook. Join Facebook to connect with Andras Horvath and others you may know. Facebook gives people the power to share and makes. View Andras Horvath’s profile on LinkedIn, the world's largest professional community. Andras has 3 jobs listed on their profile. See the complete profile on LinkedIn and discover Andras’ connections and jobs at similar companies.

In a Different Light by Tim Falconer appeared in What´s up Yukon (May 24, 2012) My first conversation with Andreas Horvath was right after I’d seen Views of Retired Night Porter at the Dawson City International Short Film Festival. The movie is his intimate 38-minute portrait of a security guard who’d come across as a monster in From a Night Porter’s Point of View, a 1977 film by director Krzysztof Kieslowski (best known in North America for his Three Colors Trilogy). Three decades later, Horvath offered a more nuanced portrait. When I asked the Austrian photographer and filmmaker what he really thought of the man, he said starkly, “He has his contradictions, as we all do.” So I suppose it was inevitable that I would look for Horvath’s own contradictions as I spent more time with the Klondike Institute of Art and Culture (KIAC) artist-in-resident. They weren’t hard to spot—and not just in his films. Some are trivial oddities: he is, for example, a classical music lover from Salzburg who disdains Mozart, the city’s most famous son.

More interesting is his face, which always seems to serve up either a brooding grimace or a mirthful smirk. And then, when I sat down to interview him at a picnic table outside Macaulay House, where KIAC artists-in-residence stay in Dawson, he confessed to being nervous, especially because I was recording our conversation. “I can hardly say no as a filmmaker, can I?” he said, noting the paradox. “But I am just being honest, I don’t like it. I don’t like to express myself with words because you say something and it’s in black and white and for me it’s always more complex.” (Later, he added, “I’m lazy with words and I don’t care very much about talking.”) Born in 1968, he spent a year of high school in small-town Iowa. Understandably, he struggled at first because it was so different and it took a while to find like-minded people. His father, an architect and avid photographer, had given him an Olympus camera and he was more interested in taking pictures than hanging with jocks.

But he survived the alienation and loneliness and learned to accept other cultures with a curiousness that would later serve his filmmaking well. The American Midwest remains one of his favourite places to visit.

During one trip in 2003, just after the invasion of Iraq, he talked to people about the war. The result was This Ain’t No Heartland, a film that is at once angry and empathetic. The Americans he interviewed were shockingly ill-informed about what their country was doing in the Persian Gulf. But the movie—which The New York Times called “grimly funny”—doesn’t mock these people (as, say, Rick Mercer’s Talking to Americans does).