Post by Boz on Oct 26, 2006 9:20:58 GMT
Considering the general philosophical nature of some members here, as well as the fact that I know at least a couple of us are enrolled in college level film courses, I figured we could have a space to share any of our assigned writings about film and/or film theory. It's 5:15 am, and I just finished my most recent film essay. If you'd like to read all 1500+ words, be my guest. And I enourage you to post some of your own work as well.
Topic: The Untutored Eye
First, describe, the mode of vision that Stan Brakhage calls "the untutored eye" (as outlined in Metaphors on Vision). What are the differences between seeing with an "untutored eye" and seeing with a typical "Western compositional" eye? Next, offer some suggestions as to what role cinema can play in fostering and/or impeding said way of seeing. Would you say that a film can contribute to our learning (or unlearning) how to see? Finally, choose two films from the second unit of the course and consider the role that each has either in challenging or in consolidating dominant habits of perception. What is the cultural significance of such work?
When Stan Brakhage conceived what he considered to be the purest form of vision, possible only with “the untutored eye,” he sought to remember, or perhaps imagine, experiencing sight for the first time. Whether or not we can fathom it in our present positions, all humans, in our infancies, possessed what Brakhage speaks of; a process of seeing which gave no restrictive mental connections to objects or visual phenomenon upon the instant of seeing that entity.
In the excerpt from his article, Metaphors on Vision, Brakhage brings into discussion multiple instances of visual phenomenon that we as humans have been trained, whether intentionally or not, to ignore. We come to assume that our sense of sight is to be used exclusively for recognizing and interpreting actual, tangible objects that can be touched. When we think of seeing, we will often mentally connect this idea with our sense of touch, despite the fact that we use our eyes to see other things, non-tangible things, such as rainbows, smoke, clouds, or things of that nature. While these are things that can be seen, they can not be touched, in the traditional sense of the word, but since these types of examples are few and far between, and the general rule is that what can be seen can be felt, than these exceptions are often forgotten.
We also traditionally interpret things that can be seen as entities that exist in the outside world that we must have our eyes open to recognize, but Brakhage seeks to expand the boundaries of our expectations for sight here as well. He argues that all visual phenomenon, from daydreams, to imagined situations or objects, to nightmares, to light patterns we see with our eyes closed, should all be classified and considered under the same terms as our perception of tangible objects. Brakhage refers to this system of classification as “the development of visual understanding.” This is a process that begins the moment we first open our eyes after birth, and continues to develop and mature over the next several years, but according to Brakhage, this is a process that eventually ceases to proceed. Vision, he argues, dies off early in life, and is one of the first precursors to ultimate bodily decomposition, and eventually, death.
It is the element of language that is the key factor in determining the difference between the untutored eye and the typical “Western compositional” eye. Brakhage defines the latter as a sense of vision that has been nullified in a way. When we are infants, we rely solely on our visual concepts of entities to distinguish them from one another, and because we have little power for memory at such a young age, we are under the sensation of constantly being greeted with new visual stimuli. Also at this age, we have little way of knowing how to differentiate between entities we can see with our eyes open, and things we can see with our eyes closed, in our mind’s eye so to speak. Brakhage has come to hold the opinion that because at this stage of our existence, we place no mental boundaries or limitations on what is defined as seeing, we have no preconceived labels for objects or other visual phenomenon, and everything is always new to us, that we are in possession of the purest form of vision, that which takes all into account, and gives the same degree of attention to all entities.
Upon the eventual introduction of language into our mental capacities, we subconsciously begin to associate verbal utterances, patterns of speech, with tangible objects and alternate visual stimuli. Brakhage has decided that through this gradual process of mentally labeling everything, we begin to lose touch with the actual detail of the entity in question, whether it be the varying colors in a field of grass, the multiple shades of blue in an afternoon sky, or slight variations in an object’s size over an extended period of time. These inconsistencies, these many different variations of light patterns, are lost to the human upon the introduction of the spoken word, as they come to be unfairly classified and assumed. The grass is green, the sky is blue, and that’s that.
An interesting idea to consider in relation to Brakhage’s opinions within the context of the study of film is what correlation the two may have; how might they influence one another? Watching a film, at its most fundamental, is the interpretation of light patterns being spewed forth out of a projector, onto a blank canvas, and reflecting back to our eyes. Narrative films, as an episode of visual information, present similar opportunities to view objects and other visible phenomenon, just as in the course of everyday life. While this process may seem to only be furthering the decay of our appreciation of the act of seeing, as it is a simple mimicking of actual situations, we must examine the context and manner in which the way we are seeing the things on screen has been perhaps heightened and altered.
Often times, because of artificial lighting or complex camera techniques, ordinary objects and places can be seen in new or intriguing ways, and in some cases, the way in which entities are filmed make them nearly unrecognizable, such as if something was filmed in an extreme close up. This distortion of the cinematic image, in some cases, allows us to revert to a way of looking at things, an unbiased and unassuming way of looking at things, that is perhaps what Brakhage meant when he spoke of the untutored eye. Also, avant garde and abstract film must be considered. By presenting the viewers with unrecognizable shapes, light patterns, and images, or by putting a twist on something ordinary, avant garde and experimental filmmakers also seek to expand the parameters of what is generally considered visual stimuli.
Two such films of the abstract genre that portray distinct characteristics that appeal to Brakhage’s school of thought are Jordan Belson’s 1969 film, Momentum, and Kenneth Anger’s 1963 film, Scorpio Rising. Momentum is a short series of indistinct images that somewhat resemble outer space phenomenon set to an eerie soundtrack. By creating a generally paranormal atmosphere and tone for the film through his use of extensive darkness and unrecognizable visuals, Belson effectively forces his viewers to look inward and examine their own physical and emotional reactions to the film in order to gain some sort of perspective on what its’ intentions were.
Belson strings together an episode of distorted and strange visuals, and as a filmmaker he’s most likely well aware that his viewers will not have readily available verbal descriptions of what they’re watching. It is this aspect of the film that most clearly relates to Stan Brakhage’s opinions in the aforementioned article, as Belson has essentially pushed his viewers towards reverting to a sort of pure, untutored style of seeing, wherein they have little idea what the meaning may be behind the images displayed before them. Like an infant, they are now left to interpret the visual stimuli based simply upon the emotions it instills in them, and they are left free to examine every minute detail of the photographic image. Like recognizing every different shade of green in a field of grass, the viewers can now notice minor discrepancies and changes in the indescribable images of the film, as they are no longer mentally bound by their verbal descriptions for recognizable objects, considering there are none present.
Despite being drastically different from Momentum in not only style and visuals, but in the mode of filmmaking itself, Kenneth Anger’s film, Scorpio Rising, is still classified under the avant garde genre. Scorpio Rising shows us the preparations and rituals of a group of uber-masculine members of a biker gang. The two key elements of Anger’s film that relate to the statements made by Brakhage are the lack of dialogue, or language, and the distortion of common visuals. What at first appears to be a simple film about biker gangs in the late 1950’s eventually morphs into an out of control, in your face mixture of sex, death, violence, religion, drugs, and Nazis. Although Anger doesn’t expand the possibilities of cinema or do much in the way of creating a pure cinematic image (at least with this film), the extreme sense of disorientation, confusion, and shock that his film is and was undoubtedly met with gives him some credit in challenging his viewers to watch with Brakhage’s untutored eye. By presenting us with common visuals at first, with only vague, underlying homosexual undertones, Anger succeeds in lulling his viewers into a position of complacency and safety. They continue to watch with what Brakhage calls the Western compositional eye, making over-simplified assumptions about all that they see, but when Anger attacks and discards these preconceived notions in such a sudden manner with the introduction of the orgy scene, he, like Belson after him, forces the viewers to examine their own emotional reactions to the visuals before them. Considering they feel as if their trust has been violated in a manner of speaking, they can no longer rely on the image alone to provide them with all the information about the film. Anger forces his viewers to make connections, forces them to contemplate what they are viewing, and in this way, succeeds in challenging the complacency of using the normal style of seeing.
Ultimately, the cultural significance of films such as these cannot be underestimated. Cinema is still in its infant form as a means of artistic expression, and considering it is still nearly exclusively used to replicate other forms of art such as theater and painting, the parameters of film must be expanded for its’ true potential as a unique exhibition to be reached.
Topic: The Untutored Eye
First, describe, the mode of vision that Stan Brakhage calls "the untutored eye" (as outlined in Metaphors on Vision). What are the differences between seeing with an "untutored eye" and seeing with a typical "Western compositional" eye? Next, offer some suggestions as to what role cinema can play in fostering and/or impeding said way of seeing. Would you say that a film can contribute to our learning (or unlearning) how to see? Finally, choose two films from the second unit of the course and consider the role that each has either in challenging or in consolidating dominant habits of perception. What is the cultural significance of such work?
When Stan Brakhage conceived what he considered to be the purest form of vision, possible only with “the untutored eye,” he sought to remember, or perhaps imagine, experiencing sight for the first time. Whether or not we can fathom it in our present positions, all humans, in our infancies, possessed what Brakhage speaks of; a process of seeing which gave no restrictive mental connections to objects or visual phenomenon upon the instant of seeing that entity.
In the excerpt from his article, Metaphors on Vision, Brakhage brings into discussion multiple instances of visual phenomenon that we as humans have been trained, whether intentionally or not, to ignore. We come to assume that our sense of sight is to be used exclusively for recognizing and interpreting actual, tangible objects that can be touched. When we think of seeing, we will often mentally connect this idea with our sense of touch, despite the fact that we use our eyes to see other things, non-tangible things, such as rainbows, smoke, clouds, or things of that nature. While these are things that can be seen, they can not be touched, in the traditional sense of the word, but since these types of examples are few and far between, and the general rule is that what can be seen can be felt, than these exceptions are often forgotten.
We also traditionally interpret things that can be seen as entities that exist in the outside world that we must have our eyes open to recognize, but Brakhage seeks to expand the boundaries of our expectations for sight here as well. He argues that all visual phenomenon, from daydreams, to imagined situations or objects, to nightmares, to light patterns we see with our eyes closed, should all be classified and considered under the same terms as our perception of tangible objects. Brakhage refers to this system of classification as “the development of visual understanding.” This is a process that begins the moment we first open our eyes after birth, and continues to develop and mature over the next several years, but according to Brakhage, this is a process that eventually ceases to proceed. Vision, he argues, dies off early in life, and is one of the first precursors to ultimate bodily decomposition, and eventually, death.
It is the element of language that is the key factor in determining the difference between the untutored eye and the typical “Western compositional” eye. Brakhage defines the latter as a sense of vision that has been nullified in a way. When we are infants, we rely solely on our visual concepts of entities to distinguish them from one another, and because we have little power for memory at such a young age, we are under the sensation of constantly being greeted with new visual stimuli. Also at this age, we have little way of knowing how to differentiate between entities we can see with our eyes open, and things we can see with our eyes closed, in our mind’s eye so to speak. Brakhage has come to hold the opinion that because at this stage of our existence, we place no mental boundaries or limitations on what is defined as seeing, we have no preconceived labels for objects or other visual phenomenon, and everything is always new to us, that we are in possession of the purest form of vision, that which takes all into account, and gives the same degree of attention to all entities.
Upon the eventual introduction of language into our mental capacities, we subconsciously begin to associate verbal utterances, patterns of speech, with tangible objects and alternate visual stimuli. Brakhage has decided that through this gradual process of mentally labeling everything, we begin to lose touch with the actual detail of the entity in question, whether it be the varying colors in a field of grass, the multiple shades of blue in an afternoon sky, or slight variations in an object’s size over an extended period of time. These inconsistencies, these many different variations of light patterns, are lost to the human upon the introduction of the spoken word, as they come to be unfairly classified and assumed. The grass is green, the sky is blue, and that’s that.
An interesting idea to consider in relation to Brakhage’s opinions within the context of the study of film is what correlation the two may have; how might they influence one another? Watching a film, at its most fundamental, is the interpretation of light patterns being spewed forth out of a projector, onto a blank canvas, and reflecting back to our eyes. Narrative films, as an episode of visual information, present similar opportunities to view objects and other visible phenomenon, just as in the course of everyday life. While this process may seem to only be furthering the decay of our appreciation of the act of seeing, as it is a simple mimicking of actual situations, we must examine the context and manner in which the way we are seeing the things on screen has been perhaps heightened and altered.
Often times, because of artificial lighting or complex camera techniques, ordinary objects and places can be seen in new or intriguing ways, and in some cases, the way in which entities are filmed make them nearly unrecognizable, such as if something was filmed in an extreme close up. This distortion of the cinematic image, in some cases, allows us to revert to a way of looking at things, an unbiased and unassuming way of looking at things, that is perhaps what Brakhage meant when he spoke of the untutored eye. Also, avant garde and abstract film must be considered. By presenting the viewers with unrecognizable shapes, light patterns, and images, or by putting a twist on something ordinary, avant garde and experimental filmmakers also seek to expand the parameters of what is generally considered visual stimuli.
Two such films of the abstract genre that portray distinct characteristics that appeal to Brakhage’s school of thought are Jordan Belson’s 1969 film, Momentum, and Kenneth Anger’s 1963 film, Scorpio Rising. Momentum is a short series of indistinct images that somewhat resemble outer space phenomenon set to an eerie soundtrack. By creating a generally paranormal atmosphere and tone for the film through his use of extensive darkness and unrecognizable visuals, Belson effectively forces his viewers to look inward and examine their own physical and emotional reactions to the film in order to gain some sort of perspective on what its’ intentions were.
Belson strings together an episode of distorted and strange visuals, and as a filmmaker he’s most likely well aware that his viewers will not have readily available verbal descriptions of what they’re watching. It is this aspect of the film that most clearly relates to Stan Brakhage’s opinions in the aforementioned article, as Belson has essentially pushed his viewers towards reverting to a sort of pure, untutored style of seeing, wherein they have little idea what the meaning may be behind the images displayed before them. Like an infant, they are now left to interpret the visual stimuli based simply upon the emotions it instills in them, and they are left free to examine every minute detail of the photographic image. Like recognizing every different shade of green in a field of grass, the viewers can now notice minor discrepancies and changes in the indescribable images of the film, as they are no longer mentally bound by their verbal descriptions for recognizable objects, considering there are none present.
Despite being drastically different from Momentum in not only style and visuals, but in the mode of filmmaking itself, Kenneth Anger’s film, Scorpio Rising, is still classified under the avant garde genre. Scorpio Rising shows us the preparations and rituals of a group of uber-masculine members of a biker gang. The two key elements of Anger’s film that relate to the statements made by Brakhage are the lack of dialogue, or language, and the distortion of common visuals. What at first appears to be a simple film about biker gangs in the late 1950’s eventually morphs into an out of control, in your face mixture of sex, death, violence, religion, drugs, and Nazis. Although Anger doesn’t expand the possibilities of cinema or do much in the way of creating a pure cinematic image (at least with this film), the extreme sense of disorientation, confusion, and shock that his film is and was undoubtedly met with gives him some credit in challenging his viewers to watch with Brakhage’s untutored eye. By presenting us with common visuals at first, with only vague, underlying homosexual undertones, Anger succeeds in lulling his viewers into a position of complacency and safety. They continue to watch with what Brakhage calls the Western compositional eye, making over-simplified assumptions about all that they see, but when Anger attacks and discards these preconceived notions in such a sudden manner with the introduction of the orgy scene, he, like Belson after him, forces the viewers to examine their own emotional reactions to the visuals before them. Considering they feel as if their trust has been violated in a manner of speaking, they can no longer rely on the image alone to provide them with all the information about the film. Anger forces his viewers to make connections, forces them to contemplate what they are viewing, and in this way, succeeds in challenging the complacency of using the normal style of seeing.
Ultimately, the cultural significance of films such as these cannot be underestimated. Cinema is still in its infant form as a means of artistic expression, and considering it is still nearly exclusively used to replicate other forms of art such as theater and painting, the parameters of film must be expanded for its’ true potential as a unique exhibition to be reached.