Field Reports, Part II: Journal readings.

Just for reference, my journal is Senses of Cinema.

One article that I read and found interesting was about James Bond. The title is "You Know My Name: On Beginnings and Replications in the New Bond", and it was written by Jeffery Bunzendahl and Robert von Dassanowsky. Overall, this article definitely represents a certain side of Senses of Cinema (focused on narrative film work, in modern day). This article drew me in because I've always been a fan of James Bond for a long time. The authors brought up a lot of good points about the direction the character and the franchise are taking at this point. They discuss how Daniel Craig's "new" Bond exists in a seperate yet parallel world in the Bond time continuum. Obviously, the new Bonds are set in modern day with modern day locations and technology, as opposed to the Cold War backdrop of many of the other Bonds (Connery, Moore, Dalton). So how can Casino Royale be a prequel to all the others if it's set in a time after them? The authors also brought up a theory that Craig's Bond could hypothetically be the son of the "true" James Bond. This would account for difference in time periods between the films (that is, if creators want to keep the elastic time of the Bond series together). Barbara Broccoli (as producer) has stated that there won't be any remakes of older and classic Bond films, as they are "part of Bond history". They are only going to make new stories following the tradition that the new Casino Royale set up. And Daniel Craig has apparently signed on for four more films, so it seems they will have a new "mini" franchise on their hands. Another interesting point brought up is that James Bond, or 007, is just a code name and concept given to a particularily adept agent. And this would mean that Craig is a completely new person to assume the "identity" of a James Bond. In Casino Royale, "He [Bond] admires the 1963 Aston Martin ( from Goldfinger) in an unspoken moment of hidden knowledge that alters Craig’s face dramatically. The sudden realization seems less focused on the car, but with its human connection – that of a previous owner perhaps – a memory he shares with the audience". This is an example of what the authors try to do with this article. They theorize on who or what Bond really is. If Craig is a completely new person as "James Bond" then, according to this quote, he still has some innate knowledge of Bonds past or some trait of the character that has run throughout its history going all the way back to Sean Connery. Overall, this article was really interesting - especially to a fan of the Bond series. I had never really put this much thought into how the new Bond relates to the old one. But in reading this, my mind has certainly been opened to many possibilities.

Another article wasn't so much an article as it was a career biography. In each issue, Senses of Cinema does a profile on one or two film directors. And the one that I read was on Peter Jackson, as written by Matthew Stephenson. I was somewhat aware of Jackson's career trajectory, but not in the detail that this profile gave. This was a very interesting look into how Peter Jackson got involved in filmmaking and how his early films shaped his later success. I always enjoy reading about other filmmakers/directors seeing as this is a fate I hope for myself. I am very eager to here from these filmmakers so I can try to understand the process from someone who has done it. What makes Peter Jackson so intriguing is how his started off in extremely low-budget gore movies (Bad Taste, Braindead) and how he ended up on the highest of ends with The Lord of the Rings. One thing I admire Jackson for is his do-it-yourself attitude toward filmmaking. I believe all of his films have been made in his home country of New Zealand (as he kind of refuses to get caught up in the Hollywood fast lane). For his zombie movies, all of the creations were made in New Zealand and everything was shot there. He told New Zealand stories to the world, such as in Heavenly Creatures. But it's amazing because this do-it-yourself approach carries all the way through the massive Lord of the Rings project. Everything was done in New Zealand by a mainly Kiwi crew. The special effects were produced by WETA Digital, Jackson's home-based effects studio. The article describes the production of Lord of the Rings as "very much like that for a small independent film". This, to me, is truly incredible. I love the fact that a such a big budget epic can be conceived, filmed, and produced away from Hollywood with a sort of small town mindset - and to have it become the success and masterpiece that it did, well that's all the more admirable. At the end of the article, it talks about how Jackson wouldn't mind returning to the splatterfest horror movies that made him in the beginning. That fact that he would want to return to his roots after all the great success he's had is really cool.

Field Reports, Part I: Reacting to the act.

I really enjoyed my trip to the museum. And I found all of the works in Act/React very intriguing to experience in person. There were a couple that stood out to me. Scott Snibbe's "Deep Walls" was one of these. Being able to work with this piece was fun above everything else, and I feel that's what the artist wanted. There was a small group of people around this work at the time. I watched the other people for a few moments to see what they would do. Some were hesitant (perhaps not shy, they just didn't quite know the piece worked). But some people started walking in front of the screen immediately. It was interesting to see what people did - some just walked while others made funny motions. Eventually, after seeing what the few people there would try, I myself started going across the screen. I probably went about four or five times. I tried to do something completely different every time. After I went, I stood and watched peoples' reactions to what was on each individual screen. I could overheard one person pointing out one of the squares I created. This is a very odd yet rewarding way to experience. It really couldn't be any more different than just looking at a sculpture or painting (although those have their merits as well). With "Deep Walls" there is a sort of three-way interaction going on. It is between myself, the others, and the work. The work itself prompts myself and others to interact with it and become artists ourselves. And by doing so, myself and others not only become artists of sorts, but we also satisfy the work's expectations and make it complete.

The other piece in Act/React that really made an impression on me was Janet Cardiff's "To Touch". First off, I really liked the concept (as strange as it was). I like how the room with the table was totally isolated from the other installations. That made it more personal and affecting. Even though there were only about three or four people in there when I was, the great surround speakers made the room seem much busier. Although it's interesting to note that, despite the room seeming more full, the sound clips emitted from the table were very intimate and confessional-like. It works on two levels in that way. I liked that fact that this work required the sense of touch to function. Having to make contact with the piece truly defines the idea of interactivity. It also ties in with Duchamp's quote. Without anyone interacting, the work is basically just a table sitting silent in a room (not much to it). But when even one person enters and touches the table, the true nature of the work is realized. Having physical contact with art is something that everyone should experience. It really changes the way one thinks about what art is. When we see a great painting, we are prohibited from touching it. But with "To Touch", we are prohibiting from not touching it.

Overall, the Act/React show was very memorable. I only wish there had been more pieces to interact with. There was one thing I thought I'd mention. I wish we hadn't seen the video in class of how all the pieces worked. This didn't necessarily ruin the experience, but it sort of took some of the discovery and genuineness out of it. It would have been nice to walk into the exhibition and experience everyone without any prior knowledge.

On a completely unrelated note, when I was at the museum I also went through the Sensory Overload exhibition. The "Infinity Chamber" was awesome, as was the "Matrix XV". Those, especially the former, were really something special to experience.

Paper #1

PAPER ONE: THE CREATIVE ACT
the spectator and the filmmaker in ‘the bear garden’


“All in all, the creative act is not performed by the artist alone; the spectator brings the work in contact with the external world by deciphering and interpreting its inner qualification and thus adds his contribution to the creative act.”
– Marcel Duchamp, the Creative Act, 1957

This quote can really be applied to any art form, as long as it requires spectatorship of some sort. In this case, applying Duchamp’s to film really depends on what the spectator takes from what they see and what the filmmaker chooses to show to the spectator. In examining Andrea Leuteneker’s The Bear Garden, an interesting thought process occurs. In its entirety, this film is a visual and sonic assault of many images that conjure up various and different feelings depending on the viewer.
Firstly, with the title The Bear Garden, the filmmaker is immediately putting an idea or an image into the viewer’s mind (assuming the viewer knows what a ‘bear garden’ is or was). Anyway, when seeing this title, one might think the film is trying to symbolize or represent the experience of a bear in one of these ‘gardens’ through the images on screen. Maybe this is what the filmmaker intended, how could anyone really know without directly speaking with her? However, I think that other meanings can be drawn from this film. It’s very possible the filmmaker wanted to obscure this and make it slightly confusing. One thing that the filmmaker does not give us is any dialogue that might clear up what the film is about. The viewer is left simply to work on his or her own to try and decipher the meaning. In this sense, by not making it clear at all what this film is about, Leuteneker is directly inviting the audience into the creative act. If any viewer wants to have an idea of comprehending this film, he or she must attempt to interpret the striking imagery given. The beginning of the film gives the viewer a lush field of flowers accompanied by ominous clanging bells (it’s almost like a toll of death). I personally don’t think that this film is supposed to show mentally what a ‘garden’ does to a bear. It shouldn’t be taken literally like that. Instead, the title seems to provide an initial feeling of darkness or perhaps despair. When it’s all said and done, this film does go through a dark and somewhat violent journey. After the field of flowers, the audience slowly descends downward – first through the earth into a cavern of sorts and then eventually into a daunting abyss below. What follows is an overwhelming and terrifying onslaught of abstract images dominated by blacks and reds. On top of the images, there is constant noise – a various mash-up of eerie ambient sounds and others that I couldn’t even identify. Overall, the combination of these two is unsettling. I think that the filmmaker uses the above techniques to try and prompt the audience and elicit a certain response from them. To me, the film takes the audience on a trip into hell. The rapidly projected images conjure up ideas of fire, blood, and pain. The entire middle section of this was abstract juxtaposed on more abstract. Yet, this was incredibly effective. I was more or less on the edge of my seat for most of the film. The filmmaker is challenging the viewer to brave through this hellish portion just as the film itself is – once the viewer makes it through, the film calms quite drastically. The images still remain dark, but most of the menacing red color and the disturbing sounds are gone. I feel like the film ends in a sort of purgatory. Once it has dragged the audience through the deepest pit of hell, it sort of leaves them to ponder in an empty room. The ending of the film could equal solace, but it also has a kind of loneliness to it. The important part of this is the space and ability to ponder what has just happened. The filmmaker intentionally made a film that shocks the viewer with intense imagery and ends with reflection time. It’s important because we the viewers have to consider what the message or ultimate meaning of The Bear Garden is.
There aren’t a whole lot of gaps in this film. However, the images that are strung together are just abstract enough to make it difficult to know exactly what the filmmaker is saying with this piece. The film then becomes a good candidate for applying Duchamp’s ideas. The Bear Garden definitely benefits from having the viewer add his or her interpretation. The film doesn’t directly lead to any distinct conclusions, but it does permit the audience to derive their own conclusion. A film like this could be very hard to elicit meaning from if it weren’t for the memorable imagery that it provides. It is absolutely through these images that the filmmaker hopes or even expects the viewer to interact with and understand the film.

Field Reports, Part I: Art encounters.

I went to the screening of Iverson White's new short film, Self-Determination. All in all, I really enjoyed it. It was very well structered and make great use of its short running time. The most amazing thing about it to me was the incredibly spare use of dialogue. Almost everything in the film was conveyed through actions and expressions. This was especially interesting to me personally because I took Iverson's screenwriting class last semester. In that class, he mentioned several times that a mininum use of dialogue helps a film become better. With less dialogue, the filmmaker is forced to rely on the acutal workings of cinema (moving pictures) to tell a story. It is much more difficult to think this way in making a film, but if it is done correctly, the end result is rewarding. Being able to tell a story with just images for the most part is qutie impressive. And that is exactly what I took from Self-Determination. The story and the characters' emotion were perfectly captured with little or no dialogue. That also speaks to the performances of the actors. The lead actress did a very good job portraying her character and her character's feelings on a purely visible level without saying much. This ties in with several of the films we've seen in class, many of which don't have dialogue of any kind. Films such as 5:10 to Dreamland, Valse Triste, Mothlight, and The Bear Garden. None of these films had dialogue and thus told a narrative of sorts through only images (accompanied with music, of course). But it is an interesting concept that less is more. With no dialogue, the viewer has to figure most everything out for themself. They have to think in order to take what is necessary from a film. I think this kind of work is essential for a film to be considered a work of art. It's the interaction between the viewer and the maker which creates the artistic relationship and the rewards of understanding. If everything is spelled out or spoon fed, then there really is no reason to watch anything. That was the main idea I took from the screening.