Video by Tom and Alex Konyves with editing by Scott Douglas and voice by Piper McKinnon. Tom interprets his videopoem for us in the YouTube notes:
This videopoem imagines a conversation, an internal dialogue between the poet and his “spirit-guide”, revealed as words typed on the horizontal rails of a fence, accompanied by a Latin club beat (Los Chicarones), and punctuated with a well-situated growl or bark.
The image of the fence suggests “the other side”; on the other side of the fence there is no dialogue, no visual text, no colour, no music — only the singular voice (Piper McKinnon) of the instinctive impulse, in black and white, in slow motion.
This video is no longer online.
“Video haiku” is a somewhat inchoate genre that overlaps with videopoetry but isn’t wholly contained by it: some filmmakers, for example, use the term for short, poetic films with three scenes reminiscent of the three lines of conventional English-language haiku (Japanese haiku are written in one line). Those that do include text often adhere rigorously to the 5-7-5 syllable pattern, but otherwise are barely recognizable as poems. This short film, however, seems based quite organically on the haiga tradition: the text is very well integrated with the single image, and the author/filmmaker — a London-based director — knows enough to disregard the three-line and 17 syllable conventions when they don’t suit their purposes. Though this is closer to a slide than a film, I think it’s worth featuring here because of the possiblities is suggests for contemporary haiku video.
Always good to see an accomplished poet who’s also adept at filmmaking. The poem is from his second book, Scary, No Scary.
Some videos are so bad they’re good; this is one of them. To say that it’s amateurishly done would be a vast understatement, and yet it still manages to be charming and eminently watchable, in part because she messes up toward the end. There’s a lesson in there somewhere. Of course, it helps that Addonizio recites the poem really well, and that she has a cute cat.
There’s a fine line between flash fiction and prose poetry, but I think this story crosses it. It was created by Australian writer Oceana Setayasha for the summer film competition at the 6S Social Network, which is associated with the popular online magazine Six Sentences [both defunct as of 6/5/2014]. And yes, it’s just six sentences long.
An enjoyable “adventure in vibration studies” from Forkergirl, who includes it in a webpage devoted to her limited fork theory. I’m not sure if this is a serious theory or a gentle parody of Thylias Moss’s academic colleagues, but it doesn’t matter. The video’s description at YouTube is delightful and worth reproducing in full:
STATUS REPORT OF A SEARCH FOR SIGNS OF INTELLIGENT LIFE WITHIN FORKING AND FORKED UNIVERSES, EMPHASIZING THOSE OUTSIDE OF SETI DOMAINS
SUBMITTED BY FORKERGIRL
So many vibrations, so many patterns of movement on so many scales in so many bifurcating systems, but at last a (temporary) match to the pattern of movement (and its associated audible and inaudible, on human scales, music) of a search for signs of intelligent life.
This status report describes the finding of a feather in a forking universe system in which the feather led to hypnosis at a bird factory presumed to be the source of the feather as no other intelligent-life constructions were observed though their unavailability for observation does not preclude the existence of other intelligent life constructions in this particular universe system. The feather itself was alive with possibilities, but as forkergirl had prior knowledge of birds, vibrations of that knowledge imposed limiting factors on those possibilities, resulting in a bounded infinity, as infinite as any other, though of a different size.
An inability to find other intelligent life constructions doesn’t mean they aren’t there and indeed could indicate that parameters of the search itself do not support finding evidence that forks so far from the parameters, the parameters cannot detect or measure presences outside detectable thresholds.
It is difficult at best to report on a reality based on hypnotic evolutions when such behaviors in many western depictions of Earth realities tend both to lack and to be unable to acquire scientific credence despite the existence of terminology for the mystical and supernatural, terms that refer to something, including, though not limited to, the substance of various forms of delusion, the mind being able to generate and sustain realities that do not require confirmation of existence from outside the mind’s imagined authority, real within the imaginary realm that (at this time) is difficult to measure though its roots are tethered to an organic and electrical human body nervous system relied upon by both objectivity and subjectivity, the empirical and the aesthetic.
The full status report is available as a PDF.
Poet and blogger James Brush’s very first go at the videopoem genre.
I haven’t made a video for fun in 16 years. Perhaps it was the time spent working on film sets in the early ’90s, but I lost interest somewhere along the way. The inspiration for this came from Christine Swint’s “Anybody’s Child” and Dave Bonta’s post on poets and technology over at Very Like a Whale. In the comments I mentioned that I have a film degree and probably should take a crack at doing a video poem sometime.
Then, this evening, I was about to post this poem along with audio of me reading. The poem started with some pictures I had taken of my guitar with the iphone Hipstamatic app, and I thought it would be cool to put one of the pictures up. Next thing I knew, I was building this video.
The “music” is something I recorded a few years back by overdubbing several tracks of me playing my guitar (well, really I was mostly playing the amplifier) and my wife’s bass. I’m not sure if it’s too loud, but I was trying to submerge the voice a little bit without losing too much clarity.
The post also includes the text of the poem. James’ film expertise really shows here, I think: the mix of sound and images is just right, and there’s just enough movement going on for this to qualify in my mind as a “moving poem,” even though, as he says, he was inspired in part by a recent, high-quality slideshow-video from Christine Swint. I love seeing poetry-blogger friends experiment with multimedia, and I’m proud of whatever small role I might have played in helping to make that happen.