Watching these two clips back to back, there a feeling of this hidden narrative that haunts both films (Perhaps more for Singin' in the Rain than for Mulholland Dr.) It is our human nature to find a connections to and make sense of what we are seeing. When viewing them in this order, I don't attribute Lina Lamont's expression of anxiety to the curtain being lifted from the stage and being exposed, but to what happened to the singer in Mulholland Dr. Whether or not it was Lynch's intention to directly reference Singin' in the Rain (does anyone know?), this comparison definitely speaks to the power of the film archive as a ever changing meta-narrative.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Film Archive as a Meta-Narrative
I was listening to Filmspotting the other day---its a great movie podcast by the way---and I happened to catch a tidbit about this strange connection between a scene from David Lynch's Mulholland Dr. (2001) and the ending of Singin' in the Rain (1952):
Watching these two clips back to back, there a feeling of this hidden narrative that haunts both films (Perhaps more for Singin' in the Rain than for Mulholland Dr.) It is our human nature to find a connections to and make sense of what we are seeing. When viewing them in this order, I don't attribute Lina Lamont's expression of anxiety to the curtain being lifted from the stage and being exposed, but to what happened to the singer in Mulholland Dr. Whether or not it was Lynch's intention to directly reference Singin' in the Rain (does anyone know?), this comparison definitely speaks to the power of the film archive as a ever changing meta-narrative.
Watching these two clips back to back, there a feeling of this hidden narrative that haunts both films (Perhaps more for Singin' in the Rain than for Mulholland Dr.) It is our human nature to find a connections to and make sense of what we are seeing. When viewing them in this order, I don't attribute Lina Lamont's expression of anxiety to the curtain being lifted from the stage and being exposed, but to what happened to the singer in Mulholland Dr. Whether or not it was Lynch's intention to directly reference Singin' in the Rain (does anyone know?), this comparison definitely speaks to the power of the film archive as a ever changing meta-narrative.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Narrative Breakdown and Restructure
The view of the set is made visible. We are watching a movie.
Have a gander everybody:
Here, Aitor Gametxo reorganizes the film "The Sunbeam" from 1912 by D. W. Griffith into the prefect six-rectangle grid “doll-house” where the movements of the characters are perfectly choreographed to interact with the hidden structure.
In this Rear Window timelapse, Jeff Desom dissects the scenes from Hitchcock's film and---since everything was filmed from pretty much the same angle---he was able to match them into a single panoramic view of the entire backyard with the order of events staying true to the movie's plot.
Especialy in early cinema, the camera rarely moves from the position of 180 degrees from the subject and is typically inter-cut with the occasional medium shots and closeups. Because of editing, the spatial structure of a film is often not noticeable when it constantly cuts back and forth between shots. These are fascinating examples that breakdown and reveal the surprisingly simple way of how well known filmmakers compose various shots to explore location within the narrative.
Have a gander everybody:
Here, Aitor Gametxo reorganizes the film "The Sunbeam" from 1912 by D. W. Griffith into the prefect six-rectangle grid “doll-house” where the movements of the characters are perfectly choreographed to interact with the hidden structure.
In this Rear Window timelapse, Jeff Desom dissects the scenes from Hitchcock's film and---since everything was filmed from pretty much the same angle---he was able to match them into a single panoramic view of the entire backyard with the order of events staying true to the movie's plot.
Especialy in early cinema, the camera rarely moves from the position of 180 degrees from the subject and is typically inter-cut with the occasional medium shots and closeups. Because of editing, the spatial structure of a film is often not noticeable when it constantly cuts back and forth between shots. These are fascinating examples that breakdown and reveal the surprisingly simple way of how well known filmmakers compose various shots to explore location within the narrative.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
I Was Here
And by "here," I meant the Shire. It is a reminder of human mortality. Things never remain in a fixed state. A fruitless attempt to leave evidence, yada yada yada . . .
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Monday, October 15, 2012
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Christian Marclay and his Telephones
Telephones (1995) by Christian Marclay
There are only so many ways you can answer a telephone.
The appropriation of Cinema in art has been around for a while, but it never seems to go out of style. Using cinema (or television) as an archive of human history gives us an idealized and somewhat condense view of society. Even basic human activities (waking up, getting out of bed, eating, etc.) are captured and preserved on film and we tend to see similarities in the presentation of those activities across many different films. It creates its own dialogue out side of narrative, one that considers the whole scope of film history parallel to human history.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Masanobu Hiraoka
Uneasiness and triangle from masanobu hiraoka on Vimeo.
The transformations are amazing here. Also checkout Hiraoka's recent endeavor:
Sincho.tv from masanobu hiraoka on Vimeo.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Strangely Hypontic
I came across this today
http://www.yooouuutuuube.com/v/?width=192&height=120&yt=zQSJKCkZ8sI&flux=0&direction=left_up
Remind you of another post?
Small fragment of a lost film in Kinemacolor
From "How to Live 100 Years" (1913)
Lost films have a truly enigmatic quality. It is evidence of the past, documentation of the work of the film makers, actors, artist, never to be seen again. Fragments are found here and there, but they are tantalizing artifacts that make one dream of what could have been.
Here is an attempt to preserve this film (thanks http://www.yooouuutuuube.com), to make it last a little be longer.
http://www.yooouuutuuube.com/v/?width=192&height=120&yt=zQSJKCkZ8sI&flux=0&direction=left_up
Remind you of another post?
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
What Comes After Remix? (A Remix of the Remix?)
Alice Remixed by Pogo
Here is the remix of the remix:
In Lev Manovich's 2007 article "What come after Remix," he proposes that this is the age of remix culture. It most certainly is, and still lingers today. Music, video, fashion, food, architecture --what have you-- has been in someway remixed re purposed into something new. Our world history is an archive. Why not use it?
Marcel Duchamp - Fountain, 1917. Sculpture
Looking at the art world, it is a technique (also known as appropriation) used time and time again but never ceasing to find new combinations, new languages expressed through re-contextualizing the visual. A notable early example is Duchamp's Fountain, in which a urinal is magically "turned" into a work of art through the artist intent (whether seriously or jokingly) and most importantly, the placement of the object in a new context. In this case from the bathroom into the museum.
But what comes after remix? This is the question Manovich asks but does not answer. It is too soon to tell or it may have already happened and no one has yet to notice. Have we reached the pinnacle of our visual production? I don't think so. But if remix isn't the end all of our cultural visualization, it is certainly a powerful tool to influence the next.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Rebeca Méndez
At Any Given Moment, Grass #1 from Rebeca Méndez on Vimeo.
Movement created by nature and captured brilliantly by Rebeca Méndez.In her series, Méndez "explores issues of perception, specifically our relationship to technologically mediated nature."
(http://cargocollective.com/rebecamendez/About-Rebeca-Mendez)
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