Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Blog #3
Jesper Just, 'Bliss and Heaven'
Jesper Just presents his audience with beautiful wide shots of wheat fields, necessary close-ups and Olivia Newton John's 'Please Don't Keep Me Waiting.' Add little ambient noise and a platinum wig and you have 'Bliss and Heaven,' a short that should be confusing, but instead leaves it's viewer in a euphoric wonderment. Maybe euphoric is a bit much, but I couldn't help but leave that little space in the museum without a smile on my face, and not caring that I didn't know why I was smiling. Just's lack of sound is what makes his film. He open in a giant wheat field, and we see just one man, a younger gentleman wandering around, you'd think he is lost, but really, I think he just doesn't know what he's looking for. We just hear the necessary noises: a little wind, the truck pulling up with a 'manly' man walking out and back into the cab of his truck suspiciously.
Reading a few reviews, it seems most of the audience was expecting a thriller, but with it's soft ambient noises and clear blue sky day, it is more mystery. When the young man goes into the truck, is when the sound and visuals really work against each other, in a good way. We see a theater, and then the truck driver dressed in a white women's blouse, a flowing scarf, a platinum wig, but his jeans and work boots are curiously left on. All this is in silence, except the loud (and by loud, I mean obvious) but silent confusement that the young man has.
Then we hear a music beat, we, along with the young man, aren't scared by the noise, just intrigued, and soon enough, the truck driver sings. Though slightly monotone, there is still emotion in his voice, and again, we are left wondering why he is singing, who he's singing to. Though the music slightly builds up, it is mixed with once again, these wide shots of both men in the theater, we see the flowing scarf in the fake wind, close-ups are shown of each man's emotion in their face, then something happens, and the music doesn't blur, but it feels like it as the man stops singing and the shots become blurred themselves, he seems stricken, falling to the floor, a look of something, but what, on his face.
It is heartbreaking yet beautiful, and again, like every other shot, questions are coming into mind. Did he see the young man? Is that why he's stopped? He's embarrassed? Is the young man who he was waiting for? Is the young man the answer to his singing 'Please Don't Keep Me Waiting?' We never know as the curtain draws and the young man sits in silence, a mysterious grin, then stands up and applauds. I mentioned earlier that the visuals and sound were against each other, but that is what makes the film work. We are shown a hefty, sweaty man, and then we hear some catchy love song. Then we are shown these beautiful wide shots of the theater and a scarf flowing, but we hear this low deaf tone voice singing. The reason I loved this piece was because it all seemed like it should be confusing, but it wasn't. Just allowed the visuals to speak, and then the audio when it was its turn. You left with all these questions, but yet the piece was satisfying because they weren't questions about frustration, more about interest and maybe even being nosey.
Salla Tykka, Cave Trilogy
In Salla Tykka's Cave Trilogy, I feel she uses sound the same way Just did in 'Bliss and Heaven,' in that there was a lack of sound that juxtaposed with the visuals. Like Just, there is no dialogue in any of the three shorts within Cave, but simply a few ambient noises and then a dramatic score. In Lasso, a woman goes to the back of a house and seems to be watching, unnoticed, a man practicing a lasso routine to none other than to a song called 'Lasso.' The music is slow and dramatic, just simply musical notes, and the man's routine is in slow motion, and she watches quietly, with interest, but not revealing too much. As the music builds, the motion is still slow, but the camera moves when the gentleman moves. In 'Thriller,' music is used a little differently in that it creates suspense rather than this almost old epic feeling that 'Lasso' had. She matches the little twitches in the music in conjunction with the little twitches the actors have in their performances like when the man goes to the door and the girl glares in his direction. The only problem I had with her use of 'Thriller' was that the music was so recognizable that it distracted from the film. In the second half the music is not as recognized and flowed well with the visuals, but the Michael Myers music is so well known as the Halloween theme that it owned the visuals instead of complimenting them. The slower part of the Halloween theme again, isn't as recognizable or prominent in itself that it complimented the scene better, the little girl running through the tall trees, the cold air showing on her breath. In the final film, 'Cave,' the visuals owned the music in this case. If you asked me what the music was like, I'd have to look at my notes. But that doesn't take away from the film as it was shot in a coherent and visual pleasing way. This woman who looks like she is about to be devoured from this big black cave instead becomes like a part of it, putting her hands in the water, watching the drillers in a almost despising way.
Tykka is definitely a good storyteller in that I enjoyed the three shorts (not that if I don't enjoy it it isn't good) and wasn't left confused or unfulfilled, but the music and sounds choices were either a hit or miss. In Lasso, the dramatic music went well with the slow and just as well dramatic action, but in Thriller, the music was too distracting since it was so recognizable and took away from the visuals which were excellent in themselves, and in the case of 'Cave,' the sounds didn't have much of an impression at all, but like with Thriller, Tykka was lucky that the visuals were interesting and fulfilling on their own.
Review of:
David Banash, A Natural History of Consumption: The Shopping Carts of Julian Montague.
Earlier in the semester when I was looking for a journal to review, the link to Julian Montague shopping cart guide was the closing deal, so I figure, why not read what this journal had to say about his project? Most of the articles in the journal seem to be very critical and use psychological spins so lots of googling on names and words were done on my part, but David Banash's review of The Stray Shopping Carts of North America was very straight forward and not hidden behind big words and 'look what I know' anecdotes. He starts with what I thought of too when I first visited Montague's site, that this wasn't just a one dimensional spoof on scientific studies, nor was it a too-deep-for-its-own-good look at America materialism, but rather an investigation and commentary on consumerism and a 'sense of play' as Banash simply puts.
The way Banash even summarizes Montague's classification system and book is simple and playful, you can tell Banash is not judging Montague's work but is rather intrigued and entertained. Montague's website and book (though I haven't seen the whole thing, excerpts are available and are pretty much like the website) has little explanation, but just enough that you understand his intentions and realize it is more than just a fun little project.
Banash writes, 'The images of carts abandoned, decaying or used for various purposes invoke with quiet insistence the decidedly absent and ghostly people who use them.' Though it sounds a little overdramatic, especially how he writes after that about homeless and those without access to cars stealing these cars for basically support, he summarizes Montagues simplicity of having the images speak for themselves. The carts are pictured as they were found, so it causes the viewer to create it's own backstory, because no one really knows how that cart got there.
Though Banash doesn't seem to judge Montague's intentions, he does judge the photographs. He again writes about how these shopping carts seem to only benefit, if you will, the poor and homeless. Apparently only poor or homeless people use mass transit.
But by the end of the review, I am friendly with Banash again as he wraps up his own interpretation of the study saying the carts are 'as though they moved through the world singly or in herds as natural and living creatures' and it 'produces a powerful estranging effect, and it dramatizes our own status as the objects of the vast and inhuman machinations of commodity culture.' Ironic that he uses 'dramatizes' in a close to overdramatic observation, but I couldn't have concluded Montague's work so clearly myself.
Jesper Just presents his audience with beautiful wide shots of wheat fields, necessary close-ups and Olivia Newton John's 'Please Don't Keep Me Waiting.' Add little ambient noise and a platinum wig and you have 'Bliss and Heaven,' a short that should be confusing, but instead leaves it's viewer in a euphoric wonderment. Maybe euphoric is a bit much, but I couldn't help but leave that little space in the museum without a smile on my face, and not caring that I didn't know why I was smiling. Just's lack of sound is what makes his film. He open in a giant wheat field, and we see just one man, a younger gentleman wandering around, you'd think he is lost, but really, I think he just doesn't know what he's looking for. We just hear the necessary noises: a little wind, the truck pulling up with a 'manly' man walking out and back into the cab of his truck suspiciously. Reading a few reviews, it seems most of the audience was expecting a thriller, but with it's soft ambient noises and clear blue sky day, it is more mystery. When the young man goes into the truck, is when the sound and visuals really work against each other, in a good way. We see a theater, and then the truck driver dressed in a white women's blouse, a flowing scarf, a platinum wig, but his jeans and work boots are curiously left on. All this is in silence, except the loud (and by loud, I mean obvious) but silent confusement that the young man has.
Then we hear a music beat, we, along with the young man, aren't scared by the noise, just intrigued, and soon enough, the truck driver sings. Though slightly monotone, there is still emotion in his voice, and again, we are left wondering why he is singing, who he's singing to. Though the music slightly builds up, it is mixed with once again, these wide shots of both men in the theater, we see the flowing scarf in the fake wind, close-ups are shown of each man's emotion in their face, then something happens, and the music doesn't blur, but it feels like it as the man stops singing and the shots become blurred themselves, he seems stricken, falling to the floor, a look of something, but what, on his face.
It is heartbreaking yet beautiful, and again, like every other shot, questions are coming into mind. Did he see the young man? Is that why he's stopped? He's embarrassed? Is the young man who he was waiting for? Is the young man the answer to his singing 'Please Don't Keep Me Waiting?' We never know as the curtain draws and the young man sits in silence, a mysterious grin, then stands up and applauds. I mentioned earlier that the visuals and sound were against each other, but that is what makes the film work. We are shown a hefty, sweaty man, and then we hear some catchy love song. Then we are shown these beautiful wide shots of the theater and a scarf flowing, but we hear this low deaf tone voice singing. The reason I loved this piece was because it all seemed like it should be confusing, but it wasn't. Just allowed the visuals to speak, and then the audio when it was its turn. You left with all these questions, but yet the piece was satisfying because they weren't questions about frustration, more about interest and maybe even being nosey.Salla Tykka, Cave Trilogy
In Salla Tykka's Cave Trilogy, I feel she uses sound the same way Just did in 'Bliss and Heaven,' in that there was a lack of sound that juxtaposed with the visuals. Like Just, there is no dialogue in any of the three shorts within Cave, but simply a few ambient noises and then a dramatic score. In Lasso, a woman goes to the back of a house and seems to be watching, unnoticed, a man practicing a lasso routine to none other than to a song called 'Lasso.' The music is slow and dramatic, just simply musical notes, and the man's routine is in slow motion, and she watches quietly, with interest, but not revealing too much. As the music builds, the motion is still slow, but the camera moves when the gentleman moves. In 'Thriller,' music is used a little differently in that it creates suspense rather than this almost old epic feeling that 'Lasso' had. She matches the little twitches in the music in conjunction with the little twitches the actors have in their performances like when the man goes to the door and the girl glares in his direction. The only problem I had with her use of 'Thriller' was that the music was so recognizable that it distracted from the film. In the second half the music is not as recognized and flowed well with the visuals, but the Michael Myers music is so well known as the Halloween theme that it owned the visuals instead of complimenting them. The slower part of the Halloween theme again, isn't as recognizable or prominent in itself that it complimented the scene better, the little girl running through the tall trees, the cold air showing on her breath. In the final film, 'Cave,' the visuals owned the music in this case. If you asked me what the music was like, I'd have to look at my notes. But that doesn't take away from the film as it was shot in a coherent and visual pleasing way. This woman who looks like she is about to be devoured from this big black cave instead becomes like a part of it, putting her hands in the water, watching the drillers in a almost despising way.
Tykka is definitely a good storyteller in that I enjoyed the three shorts (not that if I don't enjoy it it isn't good) and wasn't left confused or unfulfilled, but the music and sounds choices were either a hit or miss. In Lasso, the dramatic music went well with the slow and just as well dramatic action, but in Thriller, the music was too distracting since it was so recognizable and took away from the visuals which were excellent in themselves, and in the case of 'Cave,' the sounds didn't have much of an impression at all, but like with Thriller, Tykka was lucky that the visuals were interesting and fulfilling on their own.
Review of:
David Banash, A Natural History of Consumption: The Shopping Carts of Julian Montague.
Earlier in the semester when I was looking for a journal to review, the link to Julian Montague shopping cart guide was the closing deal, so I figure, why not read what this journal had to say about his project? Most of the articles in the journal seem to be very critical and use psychological spins so lots of googling on names and words were done on my part, but David Banash's review of The Stray Shopping Carts of North America was very straight forward and not hidden behind big words and 'look what I know' anecdotes. He starts with what I thought of too when I first visited Montague's site, that this wasn't just a one dimensional spoof on scientific studies, nor was it a too-deep-for-its-own-good look at America materialism, but rather an investigation and commentary on consumerism and a 'sense of play' as Banash simply puts.
The way Banash even summarizes Montague's classification system and book is simple and playful, you can tell Banash is not judging Montague's work but is rather intrigued and entertained. Montague's website and book (though I haven't seen the whole thing, excerpts are available and are pretty much like the website) has little explanation, but just enough that you understand his intentions and realize it is more than just a fun little project.
Banash writes, 'The images of carts abandoned, decaying or used for various purposes invoke with quiet insistence the decidedly absent and ghostly people who use them.' Though it sounds a little overdramatic, especially how he writes after that about homeless and those without access to cars stealing these cars for basically support, he summarizes Montagues simplicity of having the images speak for themselves. The carts are pictured as they were found, so it causes the viewer to create it's own backstory, because no one really knows how that cart got there.
Though Banash doesn't seem to judge Montague's intentions, he does judge the photographs. He again writes about how these shopping carts seem to only benefit, if you will, the poor and homeless. Apparently only poor or homeless people use mass transit.
But by the end of the review, I am friendly with Banash again as he wraps up his own interpretation of the study saying the carts are 'as though they moved through the world singly or in herds as natural and living creatures' and it 'produces a powerful estranging effect, and it dramatizes our own status as the objects of the vast and inhuman machinations of commodity culture.' Ironic that he uses 'dramatizes' in a close to overdramatic observation, but I couldn't have concluded Montague's work so clearly myself.
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