In his lecture on the Diary Film, how does Jonas Mekas distinguish a written diary from a film diary? In what ways do his films document both objective reality and Mekas’s own subjective reality? Why are “non-professional” techniques important for this filmmaking process?
Jonas Mekas explains that in a written diary one will sit down, usually at the end of the day, and reflect upon the events of the day. Alternately, with a film diary, the goal is to capture the author/cameraman's feeling at the moment of filming. With a written diary, one has the advantage of thinking and considering how one feels about a certain topic before committing it to paper. On the other hand, a filmed diary requires the filmer to be in the moment, such that whatever they are feeling or thinking in that moment comes through on film, or whatever they decide to film becomes telling of their emotional state.
Mekas' films are objective in the sense that what he is filming does, in fact, exist. His films of New York include trees, streets, any number of things. He shows New York as it is. However, hs films are subjective in that what he decides to show represent his own version of New York. Mekas states that friends of his who had seen his Diaries preferred his version of the city. "This is not my New York," he quotes them as saying. "In your New York I'd like to live. But my New York is bleak, depressing..." Mekas singles out a particular tree, which most would not consider representative of New York City.
We can see this idea at work in many other directors' works. Spike Lee's view of New York is decidedly different from that of Woody Allen or Martin Scorsese. No two people see anything, even their city, the same way. While the buildings, the people, everything is all there, the feeling with which these films are made are all from a different perspective and mood. And even though directors like Woody Allen or Spike Lee make straightforward narratives rather than personal diaries, they remind us that even a polished product like Manhattan or Do the Right Thing can show the same city or street corner in drastically different lights.
Diary films need a sort of 'non-professional' technique, because in essence, these are images from the filmmaker's eye, what s/he sees. If a person decides to shoot something using a dolly rig or crane, the object in frame won't change, but it's meaning, the emotion it instills, will change. Fancy camerawork, lighting setups, and any number of other altering factors work agaisnt the 'real life' aspect of whatever is being filmed. It helps that something be shot simply, because less of the artifice of filmmaking intrudes upon the object itself. Shooting an image without a tripod, handheld, brings it closer to being a 'real life' portrait. This way, the camera is physically in the operator's hands, and we then also get their own personal movements worked into the shot itself. This is as personal as a diary film can get.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Portland, Oregon Cinema Project
The Portland, Oregon Cinema Project seems to be more geared toward year-round screening blocks rather than festival-style competitions. The program's website states: "Through screenings and lectures we work to foster an informed viewing public that will support the wider circulation and critical appreciation of film and video art." According to the program's website, the Cinema Project has been running since Autumn of 2003, showcasing work from Chris Marker, Stan Brakhage, Robert Todd, and many others. Here are a few notable films that the Cinema Project has screened:
There's A Pervert In Our Pool! by Martha Colburn (1998), 2:30 min.
An animated short depicting a wild pool party full of exotic animals and celebrity figures to the rapid-fire poetry of Fred Collins. The film uses a 'flat-puppet' style of animation similar to Terry Gilliam's Monty Python cartoons. This one seems to be in the same vein as "Christmas on Earth" in terms of content, but more along the lines of "Cosmic Ray" in terms of attitude. The clip linked above does not appear as explicit as anything in "Christmas on Earth" or "Flaming Creatures", but it has a bizarre sense of playfulness to it.
Live to Tell by Benny Nemerofsky Ramsay (2002), 5:30 min.
The initial concept, a man dancing/reacting to Madonna's "Live to Tell", doesn't sound like a terribly interesting piece. But the film is presented as footage from sixteen different surveillance cameras, which might place this in the vein of performance documentation discussed in the Mekas reading. This film won two prizes: the Experimental Prize, Hamburg Short Film Festival 2003, and the Kassel Videofestival Stipendium Prize 2003.
In My Language by Amanda Baggs (2007), 8:35 min.
This is another film that more explicitly documents real life, in this case the life of an autistic person. Here, the video's creator demonstrates the kind of personal language that someone with autism might develop and use, then presents narration explaining it. While playing at festivals such as the Cinema Project, this video can also be found on YouTube, and has been featured on CNN.
Curious About Existence by Duke and Battersby (2003), 11 min.
This video short is split into four segments, each depicting a kind of curiosity about the world around us. I am recommending this film, because it takes a different approach to the sort of 'multimedia' experimental pieces we have seen thus far in the class. Poetry readings, animation, and classroom footage make up the elements of this film.
There's A Pervert In Our Pool! by Martha Colburn (1998), 2:30 min.
An animated short depicting a wild pool party full of exotic animals and celebrity figures to the rapid-fire poetry of Fred Collins. The film uses a 'flat-puppet' style of animation similar to Terry Gilliam's Monty Python cartoons. This one seems to be in the same vein as "Christmas on Earth" in terms of content, but more along the lines of "Cosmic Ray" in terms of attitude. The clip linked above does not appear as explicit as anything in "Christmas on Earth" or "Flaming Creatures", but it has a bizarre sense of playfulness to it.
Live to Tell by Benny Nemerofsky Ramsay (2002), 5:30 min.
The initial concept, a man dancing/reacting to Madonna's "Live to Tell", doesn't sound like a terribly interesting piece. But the film is presented as footage from sixteen different surveillance cameras, which might place this in the vein of performance documentation discussed in the Mekas reading. This film won two prizes: the Experimental Prize, Hamburg Short Film Festival 2003, and the Kassel Videofestival Stipendium Prize 2003.
In My Language by Amanda Baggs (2007), 8:35 min.
This is another film that more explicitly documents real life, in this case the life of an autistic person. Here, the video's creator demonstrates the kind of personal language that someone with autism might develop and use, then presents narration explaining it. While playing at festivals such as the Cinema Project, this video can also be found on YouTube, and has been featured on CNN.
Curious About Existence by Duke and Battersby (2003), 11 min.
This video short is split into four segments, each depicting a kind of curiosity about the world around us. I am recommending this film, because it takes a different approach to the sort of 'multimedia' experimental pieces we have seen thus far in the class. Poetry readings, animation, and classroom footage make up the elements of this film.
Friday, February 8, 2008
John Cage, Robert Rauschenberg, and "The Event"
Describe your response to the description of "The Event" organized by John Cage.
Based solely on the descriptions of "The Event" from Off the Wall, it seems as though nobody knew quite what to make of it. As the author explains, Martin Duberman gathered five different recollections from five different people. This, of course, says something about the art of "The Event". No two people see art the exact same way.
Despite this, what is described in this passage does seem like a truly bizarre experience. A hollow square of in-turned chairs, John Cage lecturing from atop a ladder, Rauschenberg playing records on a fifty year-old Victrola, poetry readings, Cage's music played on piano, and a number of other performances are described as having taken place.
It is not clear whether or not these pieces all took place at once, or if they occurred in succession. Surely, not everything could have happened at once. That might have completely detracted from the experience. It would seem to me that the best way to perform something like this would be to have maybe two or three things going on at once, if only to keep all the pieces from jumbling together.
As Tomkins claims, "The Event" is allegedly the first 'multimedia spectacle' ever performed. To any viewer, this might have been a truly unheard of experience. But I'm sure those present, the first people to witness such an event, were moved in one way or another. Whether it was extreme confusion, applause, laughter, or anger, this seems like the kind of event that one does not simply walk away from cold.
Based solely on the descriptions of "The Event" from Off the Wall, it seems as though nobody knew quite what to make of it. As the author explains, Martin Duberman gathered five different recollections from five different people. This, of course, says something about the art of "The Event". No two people see art the exact same way.
Despite this, what is described in this passage does seem like a truly bizarre experience. A hollow square of in-turned chairs, John Cage lecturing from atop a ladder, Rauschenberg playing records on a fifty year-old Victrola, poetry readings, Cage's music played on piano, and a number of other performances are described as having taken place.
It is not clear whether or not these pieces all took place at once, or if they occurred in succession. Surely, not everything could have happened at once. That might have completely detracted from the experience. It would seem to me that the best way to perform something like this would be to have maybe two or three things going on at once, if only to keep all the pieces from jumbling together.
As Tomkins claims, "The Event" is allegedly the first 'multimedia spectacle' ever performed. To any viewer, this might have been a truly unheard of experience. But I'm sure those present, the first people to witness such an event, were moved in one way or another. Whether it was extreme confusion, applause, laughter, or anger, this seems like the kind of event that one does not simply walk away from cold.
Monday, February 4, 2008
"Scorpio Rising", Avant-Garde, and Kitsch Culture
Re-visit Banes's discussion of Scorpio Rising and Greenberg's distinction between avant-garde and kitsch (p. 104-105). Why does she argue that the film is "neither fish nor fowl," meaning somewhere in-between avant-garde and kitsch?
"Kitsch," states Banes, "is the culture of consumption, easily digestible since it is already predigested..." By this note, Scorpio Rising can be said to be said to be partially kitsch, as it is offers a (relatively) linear narrative accompanied by thirteen popular songs from the era. By technicality, the film offers what most people desire out of a film: a story told through parameters understandable by most audiences with an appealing soundtrack. However, it isn't as simple as that. As Banes illustrates, the film's narrative is fragmented. While it does tell a story from beginning to end, it tells this story in a decidedly 'avant-garde' manner. By jumping between parallel actions, the gaps in time are hard to notice, but they are very much there.
In saying that the film is "neither fish nor fowl", Banes is not suggesting that Scorpio Rising is neither kitsch nor avant-garde, but rather both simultaneously. The film is avant-garde in its approach to kitsch. Scorpio Rising offers pop tunes, clips from biker movies, and all kinds of images from the pop culture of the time. In combining and assembling all of these pieces together, the film creates an new, alternative meaning. So by regurgitating pop culture at all, Greenberg might consider Scorpio Rising 'kitsch'. However, with the way in which Kenneth Anger meticulously edits his footage/music together, a new meaning emerges. So by utilizing kitsch culture to produce new art, Scorpio Rising can also be considered 'avant garde'. It is an imitation of kitsch in order to make a statement about it.
This notion of imitating and reconstructing popular culture lives on through not just film, but also digital media. The internet is littered, almost to the breaking point, with re-edits and fan-dubs, parodies, jokes, and all kinds of reworkings of what we consider pop culture. Through image editing and the addition of the "William Tell Overture", David Duchovny suddenly finds himself in a frenetic pie-eating contest. By looping a clip from a Betty Boop cartoon and adding a distinct piece of music, we find a walrus at a seafood buffet. Or, if you'd rather see Die Hard as a silent film, YouTube users will gladly oblige you.
But while the multitudes of internet users have embraced this culture of kitsch manipulation, a scant few have been able to transcend it and create something that might be considered 'avant garde'. This internet culture is, as Greenberg might put it, is "full of effects, rather than causes." This is true, as the end result of art is the inevitable imitation of it. Modern kitsch culture relies entirely on (relatively) high art from which to draw inspiration. Greenberg suggests that kitsch is the arena for which the masses can fight the elite culture. I think this is largely true. For all of its memes, jokes, and fan-dubs, little (if any) of what one might find on the internet would be considered art by anybody. So until the internet can produce a Scorpio Rising of its own, we'll just have to settle for flash cartoons.
"Kitsch," states Banes, "is the culture of consumption, easily digestible since it is already predigested..." By this note, Scorpio Rising can be said to be said to be partially kitsch, as it is offers a (relatively) linear narrative accompanied by thirteen popular songs from the era. By technicality, the film offers what most people desire out of a film: a story told through parameters understandable by most audiences with an appealing soundtrack. However, it isn't as simple as that. As Banes illustrates, the film's narrative is fragmented. While it does tell a story from beginning to end, it tells this story in a decidedly 'avant-garde' manner. By jumping between parallel actions, the gaps in time are hard to notice, but they are very much there.
In saying that the film is "neither fish nor fowl", Banes is not suggesting that Scorpio Rising is neither kitsch nor avant-garde, but rather both simultaneously. The film is avant-garde in its approach to kitsch. Scorpio Rising offers pop tunes, clips from biker movies, and all kinds of images from the pop culture of the time. In combining and assembling all of these pieces together, the film creates an new, alternative meaning. So by regurgitating pop culture at all, Greenberg might consider Scorpio Rising 'kitsch'. However, with the way in which Kenneth Anger meticulously edits his footage/music together, a new meaning emerges. So by utilizing kitsch culture to produce new art, Scorpio Rising can also be considered 'avant garde'. It is an imitation of kitsch in order to make a statement about it.
This notion of imitating and reconstructing popular culture lives on through not just film, but also digital media. The internet is littered, almost to the breaking point, with re-edits and fan-dubs, parodies, jokes, and all kinds of reworkings of what we consider pop culture. Through image editing and the addition of the "William Tell Overture", David Duchovny suddenly finds himself in a frenetic pie-eating contest. By looping a clip from a Betty Boop cartoon and adding a distinct piece of music, we find a walrus at a seafood buffet. Or, if you'd rather see Die Hard as a silent film, YouTube users will gladly oblige you.
But while the multitudes of internet users have embraced this culture of kitsch manipulation, a scant few have been able to transcend it and create something that might be considered 'avant garde'. This internet culture is, as Greenberg might put it, is "full of effects, rather than causes." This is true, as the end result of art is the inevitable imitation of it. Modern kitsch culture relies entirely on (relatively) high art from which to draw inspiration. Greenberg suggests that kitsch is the arena for which the masses can fight the elite culture. I think this is largely true. For all of its memes, jokes, and fan-dubs, little (if any) of what one might find on the internet would be considered art by anybody. So until the internet can produce a Scorpio Rising of its own, we'll just have to settle for flash cartoons.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Jonas Mekas on Freedom
On p. 168, Banes outlines four aspects of freedom advocated by Jonas Mekas in his writings on underground film in the Village Voice. What were those four aspects of freedom, and what obstacles did filmmakers face when attempting to pursue them?
The first of Mekas' four aspects of freedom was "the Baudelairean content of bodily perception, often through polymorphous perverse sexuality" (Banes, 168). In other words, the ability to express oneself in a frank yet sexual manner was paramount. This was, of course, found in poor favor with the general public, and some films that expressed open sexuality were considered obscene. These films flirted with the line between art and pornography, and seemed to relish the fact.
Another of Mekas' beliefs on freedom was "the freedom of low budgets" (Banes, 168). This is illustrated through Mekas' assertion of the quality of Jack Smith's Flaming Creatures, which according to Banes cost a mere $300 to make. Mekas claimed low budgets were the "freedom of the underground filmmaker," as it meant the filmmaker was not tied in any way to capitalism or greed. Also, in a strictly fiscal sense this proved useful, as a profit was all but guaranteed, though it did not detract from the art of the piece itself. Finally, this meant that the artist was forced to be creative when using his/her miniscule budget. This encouraged the artist to be radical, different, and just simply artistic.
A third of Mekas' beliefs on freedom was the rise of female filmmakers. Mekas believed these directors brought a new kind of sensibility to filmmaking. As Banes puts it, Mekas "predicted that these women would liberate cinema from the machismo of industry production" (Banes, 168). He went on to say that bringing women into cinema meant that notions of art were changing, and a plethora of other ideas and viewpoints were being added to the mix at an exponential rate. Women, he said, would inspire a sort of democracy in the filmmaking world.
Finally, Mekas saw freedom in the "liberation of cinematic technique" (Banes, 168). In other words, Mekas believed that cinema was not bound by the strict conventions of Hollywood filmmaking. Narrative filmmaking did not necessarily have to follow a simple A-to-B approach. The Avant-Garde prided itself on implementing filmmaking techniques to alternative effects, and Mekas suggested that this was a means for people of the era to express themselves in new directions with new things to say.
Ultimately, the point is about personal freedom, and the art of filmmaking allowed for this in a way never seen before. It allowed for movement, imagery, and performance to dictate the message or theme that was conveyed to the viewer.
The first of Mekas' four aspects of freedom was "the Baudelairean content of bodily perception, often through polymorphous perverse sexuality" (Banes, 168). In other words, the ability to express oneself in a frank yet sexual manner was paramount. This was, of course, found in poor favor with the general public, and some films that expressed open sexuality were considered obscene. These films flirted with the line between art and pornography, and seemed to relish the fact.
Another of Mekas' beliefs on freedom was "the freedom of low budgets" (Banes, 168). This is illustrated through Mekas' assertion of the quality of Jack Smith's Flaming Creatures, which according to Banes cost a mere $300 to make. Mekas claimed low budgets were the "freedom of the underground filmmaker," as it meant the filmmaker was not tied in any way to capitalism or greed. Also, in a strictly fiscal sense this proved useful, as a profit was all but guaranteed, though it did not detract from the art of the piece itself. Finally, this meant that the artist was forced to be creative when using his/her miniscule budget. This encouraged the artist to be radical, different, and just simply artistic.
A third of Mekas' beliefs on freedom was the rise of female filmmakers. Mekas believed these directors brought a new kind of sensibility to filmmaking. As Banes puts it, Mekas "predicted that these women would liberate cinema from the machismo of industry production" (Banes, 168). He went on to say that bringing women into cinema meant that notions of art were changing, and a plethora of other ideas and viewpoints were being added to the mix at an exponential rate. Women, he said, would inspire a sort of democracy in the filmmaking world.
Finally, Mekas saw freedom in the "liberation of cinematic technique" (Banes, 168). In other words, Mekas believed that cinema was not bound by the strict conventions of Hollywood filmmaking. Narrative filmmaking did not necessarily have to follow a simple A-to-B approach. The Avant-Garde prided itself on implementing filmmaking techniques to alternative effects, and Mekas suggested that this was a means for people of the era to express themselves in new directions with new things to say.
Ultimately, the point is about personal freedom, and the art of filmmaking allowed for this in a way never seen before. It allowed for movement, imagery, and performance to dictate the message or theme that was conveyed to the viewer.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Equality
"In the chapter "Equality," Sally Banes outlines three ways in which the ideal of equality guided artistic activity in the Greenwich Village art world. Explain these three areas of influence (see subheadings for the chapter) and relate them to the films we've seen so far."
1) "Equality Levels Differences" - This essentially says that no one part of the body or part of the world should hold artistic priority over any other. As Banes puts it, "There may have been differences, but there was equal opportunity for all." We can see this ethos in practice in films such as Yoko Ono's "Four", which offers the viewer an up-close look at a series of naked rear-ends. Male, female, toned, flabby, none of these criteria matter, as we are shown all kinds of behinds in all of their unpolished glory.
Andy Warhol even incorporated this into his lifestyle, as any person entering his Factory community would eventually find their way into his art, be it painted canvas or on film. Much like Ono's "Four", Warhol's film "Kiss" features several different people kissing on-screen. Most, if not all, of these people were undoubtedly members of Warhol's inner circle (or even his periphery).
2) "Equality Celebrates the Ordinary" - Just as how leveling difference allows for anything to be considered art, this takes the next step and actually relishes that 'anything'. Pieces such as John Cage's 4'33" level the playing field, so to speak. As with the previously mentioned Cage piece, ambient sound is allowed the same privilege as the composer's work, and even becomes a part of the composition.
On film, this practice can be seen in many of the Flux Films by George Maciunas and Yoko Ono. In "Eye Blink", a simple blink of the eye becomes an exercise in witnessing the human face in action. At two thousand frames per second, an eye blink lasts for minutes, forcing the viewer to take in and study the simplest of motions. Failing that, the viewer then might begin watching the film grain, among other things, in order to pass the time until the blink is complete and the film is over.
3) "Equality Creates Model Structures - Here, equality encourages the use of disparate images or items to create new concepts of art. The sculptures of Robert Rauschenberg are prime examples of this, where objects such as stones, pillars, and tires are incorporated into his art. As Banes describes this style, "The format evokes a mental landscape, a grab bag of unconscious memories and experiences that seem of equal importance." In other words, this art still stirs emotions and brainwaves in the viewer, just through a different series of correlations and understanding.
A good example of this on film might be Paul Sharits' film "Dots 1 & 2", in which frames of black and white dots are juxtaposed continuously on film. Separately, they are simply two dots. But as they are arranged on film, they create a mesmerizing blend of color, shape, dimension, and pattern. This structure allows for an almost infinite number of possibilities, as almost anything can be turned into an experimental film if edited properly (see "Word Movie", also by Paul Sharits).
1) "Equality Levels Differences" - This essentially says that no one part of the body or part of the world should hold artistic priority over any other. As Banes puts it, "There may have been differences, but there was equal opportunity for all." We can see this ethos in practice in films such as Yoko Ono's "Four", which offers the viewer an up-close look at a series of naked rear-ends. Male, female, toned, flabby, none of these criteria matter, as we are shown all kinds of behinds in all of their unpolished glory.
Andy Warhol even incorporated this into his lifestyle, as any person entering his Factory community would eventually find their way into his art, be it painted canvas or on film. Much like Ono's "Four", Warhol's film "Kiss" features several different people kissing on-screen. Most, if not all, of these people were undoubtedly members of Warhol's inner circle (or even his periphery).
2) "Equality Celebrates the Ordinary" - Just as how leveling difference allows for anything to be considered art, this takes the next step and actually relishes that 'anything'. Pieces such as John Cage's 4'33" level the playing field, so to speak. As with the previously mentioned Cage piece, ambient sound is allowed the same privilege as the composer's work, and even becomes a part of the composition.
On film, this practice can be seen in many of the Flux Films by George Maciunas and Yoko Ono. In "Eye Blink", a simple blink of the eye becomes an exercise in witnessing the human face in action. At two thousand frames per second, an eye blink lasts for minutes, forcing the viewer to take in and study the simplest of motions. Failing that, the viewer then might begin watching the film grain, among other things, in order to pass the time until the blink is complete and the film is over.
3) "Equality Creates Model Structures - Here, equality encourages the use of disparate images or items to create new concepts of art. The sculptures of Robert Rauschenberg are prime examples of this, where objects such as stones, pillars, and tires are incorporated into his art. As Banes describes this style, "The format evokes a mental landscape, a grab bag of unconscious memories and experiences that seem of equal importance." In other words, this art still stirs emotions and brainwaves in the viewer, just through a different series of correlations and understanding.
A good example of this on film might be Paul Sharits' film "Dots 1 & 2", in which frames of black and white dots are juxtaposed continuously on film. Separately, they are simply two dots. But as they are arranged on film, they create a mesmerizing blend of color, shape, dimension, and pattern. This structure allows for an almost infinite number of possibilities, as almost anything can be turned into an experimental film if edited properly (see "Word Movie", also by Paul Sharits).
Saturday, January 12, 2008
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