Thursday, December 3, 2009

BP#5: Artistic Statement



My goal as an artist is to make movies with merit, legitimate films that have some basis in the eternal structure of storytelling: an emotional arc with regards to story and character. A theme and a situation are the backbone. A character is placed within it, and the journey leads to catharsis. The audience, having viewed my work, will consequently be for the better or the worse - hopefully for the better. However, a film may have a story to tell that does not have a happy ending. Some days, it feels appropriate for me to think that only sad stories can be told, for there is so much I see wrong with the world I am living in. Of course, on other, happier, days (fewer, in truth) there arrives a desire within me to comment on that as well – to reflect on what I experienced and why it had the effect that it did.

Money is nice, and I would like some, though comparisons made between any work I have completed for profit and work I have done solely for my own sake reveal instantaneously that my personal satisfaction derives not from monetary gain but from enlightenment and inspiration stemming from my own imagination and creativity. When I create something that has substance, and time has passed for me to view it on its own terms, I am able to instill a level of self-reflexivity, which allows for a deeper understanding and grasp of the qualities of humanity than any other craft I have ever focused on. Yet, the work itself also reveals truth; pre-production is an opportune time for research and discovery in any field written for any particular script: on any given day, I may suddenly be prompted to inquire into the life of a doctor or detective, as a professional and, more significantly, as a human being. How someone in another role or occupation of life operates intrigues me, and the work that I do satisfies and sometimes even gives me the first necessary push into the commencement of such detailed introspection.

At this moment of my life, I am in awe of all other art forms. I once believed that cinema reigned supreme amongst them, but slowly I began to learn that certain moods or reactions can only best be emulated and performed in their appropriate mediums, such as stage work or the everlasting tactile handiwork of homemade crafts. Currently, my interests lay in these other arts as well as film, no longer confined to the restrictions of just any one method, and while I may not be as apt to perform so well in these other territories, my desire and curiosity of the human element is nevertheless continually spurred onward in the purest devotion to self-expression, the one trait I have always carried and always will.

EC: Short Piece From an Essay on 10.2 Surround Sound


Prior to the release of George Lucas’ Return of the Jedi in 1983, theaters were designed with little thought pertaining to the reproduction of a film’s soundtrack. THX brought a devotion of maintaining the exact same mixes sent out from studios by calibrating theaters to a certain paradigmatic design; thus, everyone could hear the same film. Shortly after came 5.1 Surround Sound, the methodical placement of speakers around a viewer, immersing them within the world of a story. With the inclusion of developments by Dolby and various other companies, audiences now find themselves living within the world of modern sound technology. Today, obstacles regarding frequency limitation no longer exist. Bit depth and dynamic range, the perception of the lowest sound a human can hear in relation to the highest, has been vanquished. Theaters can now play recordings so well captured that it can become difficult to distinguish what is real and what is fantasy. With such tremendous accomplishments, one must ask, “To where is it leading?” This question was posed to Mr. Holman, and he responded by saying that “the one thing we need is spatial differentiation. This can be separated into two distinct parts: Imaging and envelopment. Imaging: the sense of placing sound in space; and envelopment: the sense of being immersed in that space." He mentioned that this could be accomplished through a simple, “logical logarithm,” one applicable to speaker position and quantity. From 5.1 one moves to 10.2, ten speakers and two subwoofers precisely calculated to engulf an audience and erase all effort to resist suspension of disbelief.



The idea in developing 10.2 is to essentially “fill in the holes left by 5.1,” to ensure that sound remains unbroken, a single invisible bubble from one end of the room to another, thereby solidifying an audience’s absolute acceptance of the world which has been brought to them. In addition to the front speakers used by 5.1, 10.2 implements four more directed towards the front of the viewer, a left center and a right center at roughly 45 degree angles from the screen, and two atop the original left center/right center speakers (much of our spatial discernment stems from these overhead locations). Positioned directly to the left and right of the viewer are the two subwoofers, placed on the floor; and directly behind the viewer is a new central back speaker, allowing sounds to pan more smoothly from left to right. The last addition, and the most interesting, is a pair of heightened speakers situated over the subwoofers. Each of these speakers is actually two, facing opposite directions perpendicular to the direction of the screen. These speakers pump out “fill tracks.”


A nice comparison of these “fill speakers” would be a glass of ice. Say the glass is full, though absolutely no air is to be allowed within it. In order to occupy the areas between the ice, the glass is filled with water. In the context of sound, 5.1 has issues panning and fluidly completing the movement of an effect from one speaker to another. In order to disguise the pan and prevent the audience from noticing a “jump” between speakers, fill sound is emitted throughout the entire room by the aforementioned extra speakers, in the process obliterating the notion that any single speaker exits whatsoever.

10.2 is most definitely achieving its objective of furthering the cinematic experience, and standardization has already been set, an option now found in media programs such as QuickTime. A few theaters in the U.S. even have the system installed, though as of yet, no 10.2 feature films have been released (though there has been a short or two). Nonetheless, upon experiencing the demo, which includes an expansive concert hall performance of Handel’s rousing "Hallelujah Chorus," as well as a lighting fast, ubiquitous bouncing ping-pong ball swerving from one corner of the room to the next within a quarter of a second, it is undeniable that one forgets he or she is merely sitting in a sparse, 30 X 20 foot dead-air room.

BP#6: Group Art Project

I was recently a member of a group called the Ravens. We united our mighty powers of art-making for a short period of time in order to forge a single project entitled “The Cask of Amontillado.” The work was an amalgamation of different fields, inclusive of the singular abilities inherent in each of us: two actors, an illustrator, and a filmmaker.

“Cask” is an adaptation of the Edgar Allan Poe short story of the same name. In order to grasp the eerie mood and sense of looming doom, we decided on working with a visual piece of poetic imagery rather than purely mainstream cinematic techniques. The initial step was in capturing the foundational elements of the piece: the environment and its players. I was not personally involved in this step, but, by recounting what my partners have told me, it was something similar to this: the illustrator of the piece took the actors into his basement and took still pictures of them with a digital camera. The outfits they wore were their normal clothes, and the location was not dressed for the period in which the story takes place.

Afterwards, the illustrator imported the pictures onto his computer, printed them out, rotoscoped them (i.e. drew over them), and scanned them back onto the computer. With the illustrations, he added hand-drawn costumes and period piece décor.

My contribution began at this point. I had one of the actors meet with me so that I could record her narration (a bit of dialogue from the original short). I also added sound effects (both found and recorded by me) to the images, then cut the shots together in an editing program, forming an aural environment for the project and making sure it flowed smoothly in regards to narrative progression.

The artists I worked with each did a fantastic job, and I believe the Ravens accomplished their objective: to artistically recreate one of Poe’s most chilling short stories.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

BP#2: The Beaux' Stratagem



Last night, I attended the open dress rehearsal of a USC School of Theater fueled play entitled The Beaux' Stratagem. It is a very old play, scribed sometime in the 18th century by George Farquhar, and though it was not rewritten by the school's director (a jolly professional-actor-turned-professor named Michael Keenan), it was "adapted" in 2000 for more contemporary audiences. The dialogue in particular has been retouched, as far as I could tell, sometimes breaking the century-old age barrier for the possible sake of youthful inclusion.

While I thoroughly enjoyed the play (I don't have the opportunity to attend many), I have to note that the newer material was a bit annoying at times (notably in the character of Lady Bountiful), sometimes taking me out of the moment entirely, an issue stemming from a break in flow of streamy period dialogue to modern, lazy American English. Nevertheless, the beauty of the original environment and the dramatic girth of the plot shone bright throughout.

As for the actors: all students of the School of Theater, all brilliant, two in particular:

Peter Erian, dressed in regal garb and furnishing a mean goatee, evokes the spirits of Captain Hook and Frank Zappa, an eccentric, wide-ranging performer who stole the show every moment he appeared. He sense of character was complete and concrete, as was the interpretation of Cherry, the naive inn-taker's daughter, one of promiscuous tastes and witty speech, fulfilled to the fullest extent by Veronika Dash.


Above all, the directing was spot-on, a humble, sweet interpretation of a period piece. With no flagrancies or overly ambitious attempts at commanding the audience, Mr. Keenan delivers a world interpreted through simple Victorian sets, amorous seduction, anticipated sword fights, and a Shakespearean conclusion. Overall, clocking in at 2 hours, this is a play well worth being told, and well worth the experience (a meager $5).

The Beaux' Stratagem plays at the McClintock Theatre:

October 21 - 7 PM
October 22 - 7 PM
October 23 - 7 PM
October 24 - 2:30 PM & 8 PM
October 25 - 2:30 PM

You can purchase tickets online at www.usc.edu/spectrum, at the USC ticket office, or you can arrive an hour before the show and put your name on the 'Rush List'.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Blog Post #1: The Art of David Lynch

Arguably one of the most eccentric and intriguing directors of the past few decades, David Lynch holds an unparalleled artistic vision stemming from a background in abstract painting, his personal exploration of moods and intentions applied most effectively within the craft of contemporary film.


Lynch’s directorial debut was an approximately seven-year struggle attempting to successfully present a post-apocalyptic nightmare dreamscape built solely on the subconscious mind. Notably, the usage of black and white superimpositions in composition and a hauntingly invasive sound design led the film, Eraserhead, to be soon heralded by filmmakers and critics (not so much by audiences) as one of the finest films ever conceived.


Falsely deemed a financial asset by the studios, Lynch was signed on to direct Elephant Man and Dune, the latter a popcorn blockbuster that he would soon refuse to acknowledge. With his burgeoning career nearly terminated from the start, he took one final chance in cementing his status as a professional filmmaker. With Blue Velvet followed critical and commercial acclaim. As a result, Lynch has been producing and directing for the past twenty years, now funding his own work with little restrictions impeding his artistic vision.


David Lynch is, at present, the most influential filmmaker and artist in my life. His work inspires one to break from molds and give pure, blatant emotional responses to life and events that we can not/are not allowed to decipher. Often, the work is confusing or even deemed incomprehensible. However, the beauty is existent within the inherent simplicity and truth, which is a fundamental trait Lynch has always carried – and refused to surrender. This successful purist attitude framed within a commercial realm in the cinematic medium is astoundingly atypical.


The themes and subjects explored in Lynch’s work are unique in such a way that conservative story structure is not adhered to in any obstructive manner. Of course, a story is still being told, with a beginning and an end, but there is no clear path from one to the other. Lynch has incorporated a surrealist painter’s attitude, relying less on character and plot than on the resultant mood, setting, and atmosphere – visceral properties experienced in a transient, episodic structure.


Commercials, a fun pastime for Lynch, are excellent examples of this due to their success of instigating an emotional reaction within the context of brevity. One such piece, which I will refer to as “The Third Place,” relies solely on communicating the experience of achieving full immersion within the world of a video game via subconscious desire and fear/hope. There is no explanation for the events of the short in an overarching sense, only an emotional pull through base audio-visual stimulants.




Ultimately, I believe David Lynch is a key forerunner of the future of visual media. His open experimentation, aesthetically as well as technically speaking, serves to give filmmakers such as myself hope in the face of highly negative concerns directed towards the cinematic medium, most notably the usage of celluloid and the attainment of a non-theatrical audience.


A strong proponent of digital, Lynch, rather than fighting the inception of a new storytelling age, embraced, somewhat recklessly, the technology, allowing a complete transition from 35mm to HD and even mini DV within the course of one film (Mulholland Drive). There was no trial and error period, safely testing the waters with a few scenes – rather, it was a unanimous, complete acceptance with no successive regrets. Such audacious, progressive behavior (noticeable also in the careers of directors such as Keaton and Kubrick) is a very rare occurrence.


Such a strong passion for one’s art with an uncompromising take on experimentation to achieve distance from the usual is a trait that I hold in high regard, and one which I, as a filmmaker, am constantly attempting to follow myself.


If interested in learning more on David Lynch, please visit: http://www.thecityofabsurdity.com/