The Firth is the most recent piece from the renowned moving image and poetry project, Filmpoem, founded in 2010 by artist, editor and director, Alastair Cook. As with so much of the work from Filmpoem, The Firth is a moving and beautiful piece of work. The film-making team here also includes regular collaborators, Luca Nasciuti (composer) and James William Norton (cinematographer). All three are based in Edinburgh.
The film draws on two poems by Scottish writer John Glenday, who also voices them for the film. They are from his collection, The Firth (Mariscat Press, 2020). His comments on them:
salve regina is a rebirth poem, of course, but based on the story of my brother almost getting washed out to sea on a home made raft when he was about ten or twelve. The coastguard found his raft, with his clothes on it, in the middle of the estuary, and assumed he had drowned. It’s also a poem of escape from the family, in a way. Some part of him walked home naked, another part never went home again.
dune grass in january is a portrait of my mother, who appears and reappears in The Firth, and I suppose by extension, a portrait of that typical, restrained, self-sufficient Scottish personality. Troubled, but untroubling. Approachable but prickly at times.
Moving Poems has previously shared more than 50 films from Alastair Cook, a major figure in poetry film world-wide.
The full title of this videopoem is Four Attempts At Making A Human – (not) after the Popol Vuh. In recent days it was announced as the winner of the poetry film competition at the revived Drumshanbo Written Word Weekend in County Leitrim, Ireland.
Writer Dylan Brennan and film-maker Jonathan Brennan are the creative duo behind the piece. From their statement at Vimeo:
Popol Vuh is an ancient Guatemalan/Maya text. It is the origin story of the Maya people. In it, the Gods make several attempts at creating humans using a variety of materials: from mud or clay to wood and corn. However, each of these substances prove unsuccessful until they try to make humans out of corn. Finally they succeed.
The poem is in three parts, each with a different tone and pattern on the page. The video recreates this using three sections, each employing a different technique from handheld to stop motion animation to kaleidoscopic effects. Subtle sound effects feature in sections one and two.
Poet and film-maker Colm Scully adjudicated the competition. From his statement on the winning film:
Perhaps about fertility, perhaps a dystopian Frankenstein like horror with a twist at the end, it worked beautifully. Partly filmed in Leitrim Four attempts at making a Human deserves rewatching over and over again, and the visual impact forces rereading of the very powerful poem.
Congratulations to the winning artists and organisers of the event, a further development in the culture of poetry film in Ireland.
Written in a free-associative Australian vernacular and littered with local references, Cultural Submissions is by Caroline Reid in Adelaide. It evokes episodes in places on either side of the continent and the endless drive between the west-east poles of Perth and Melbourne.
For the video, Caroline speaks the prose-poetic text in a downbeat drawl, layered in a call-and-response fashion by sound engineer Jeffrey Zhang. This heightens the sense of thoughts rolling over each other and subjects changing as if melting in mid-sentence. Film-maker Patrick Zoerner brings together a series of slowly dissolving images that provide a poetic visual space for the voice to take centre stage.
Cultural Submissions can be read on the page at Verita La. It is from Siarad, a collection of Caroline’s poetry and prose published by ES-PRESS in 2020. The video was part of an interesting program curated by Jacqui Malens for the 2021 Poetic City event in Canberra.
Moving Poems has previously featured three other videos from Caroline’s writing.
“The United States themselves are essentially the greatest poem.”
– Walt Whitman
The Greatest Poem is a project involving many collaborators. At the heart of it is a spirited and uplifting poem by Philippa Hughes. The film-making is a composite of many short animated pieces by different artists, brought together into a consistent whole by Elyse Kelly. A statement about the film:
“The Greatest Poem” is inspired by the words of Walt Whitman who believed that the power of poetry and democracy are derived from their capacity to make a unified whole from diverse and sometimes contradictory parts. In this spirit of diversity and unity, the film was made into a beautiful whole by a team of 20+ artists, from around the U.S. and world, posed around the question “What does it mean to be American?” – source
FULL CREDITS:
Writer: Philippa Hughes
Director: Elyse Kelly
Voice: Raechel Wong
Music & sound design: Cathead Noise & The Lunar Year
Sequence Directors (in order of appearance): Rohan McDonald, Nazli Cem, Zoë Soriano, Eric Larson, Catalina Matamoros, Cynthia Chu, Yoon Su Lee, Nijah Brown, Sofia Diaz, Mithra Krishnan, Jackson Ammenheuser, Megan Jedrysiak, Matea Losenegger, Angela Hsieh, Ana Mouyis, Sara Spink, Selina Donahue, Dena Springer, Dorca Musseb.
Additional design: Darren Enterline
The project was commissioned by Arena Stage in Washington D.C.
Every Word I Say to You is a simple yet deeply touching piece by Paloma Sierra, a Puerto Rican writer, translator and film-maker. She describes the video:
The poem is inspired by my family’s experience living with Alzheimer’s. Since my grandmother’s diagnosis in 2015, my father and his siblings have dedicated themselves to ensuring my grandmother receives all the love and care she deserves. This poem is for them, my grandmother, and the many families who are living with Alzheimer’s.
Designer Supawat Vitoorapakorn, in Queensland, Australia, is credited with animation for the video. Music is by US composer, Andrew Abrahamsen.
It received funding from by City of Asylum in Pittsburgh and Carnegie Mellon University, Frank-Ratchye STUDIO for Creative Inquiry.
Dave Bonta and I were recently discussing via email the films of Mike Hoolboom. Mike is one of my most-admired film-makers and very highly regarded world-wide in the experimental film arena, where my own roots as a film-maker lie. I first discovered his work at an experimental film festival in Madrid in 1994 and it hit me like a revelation. So I’ve been keen to share his work here at Moving Poems, and have shared two of his films before.
Dave found this one, Be Your Dog, before I did. As is often the case with Mike’s work, there is a wrenching sense of sadness here, with dark observations about humanity and an allegorical approach that is both fantastical and deadpan, as well as absurd and tragicomic. I find the latter qualities especially in the way the main visual subject in this film is the film-maker himself, seen far in the distance, almost a speck, and steadily walking away from us without appearing to move at all.
Dave and I were both enthusiastic about the idiosyncratic way Mike makes this film almost completely from a single shot, but Dave wondered if it could be a could be called a poetry film. Indeed, every time I share one of Mike’s films with the readership of Moving Poems, I have the same hesitation.
And yet, Mike’s spoken narrations are highly poetic, and Dave and I both share an interest in stretching the boundaries of what might fit a definition of poetry film. I do get frustrated with the idea that a film in this genre needs to be faithful and subordinate to a poem that is basically traditional in form. From my point of view, we’ve had more than a hundred years of avant-garde art exploding these kinds of restrictions and so why keep poetry film inside such an old-fashioned box.
In any case, genres are ultimately just concepts, grids to place over the top of creative works in order to make them categorisable to our top-heavy minds and their craving for order, shoulds and should-nots.
As always, when writing in a personal way like this, I get to a point where I start to doubt all I have said. After all, everything I have written here indicates my own top-heavy mind, my own craving for order, along with an artist’s contrary need to rebel against a sense of limitations. In addition, I’m probably just banging on about stuff I’ve said here before.
Up until now, I have not written in this personal kind of way at Moving Poems, but Dave also reminded me recently that this site is essentially a blog where personal approaches to writing are more than permissible.
To end, here is Mike’s brief description of Be Your Dog:
A palm tree-gilded road in rural Cuba is the setting for a meditation on a dog’s life. Traffic flows accommodate the uneasy terrain, the fellow travellers, as if we were all in this together. After Iggy Pop, the balm of Adorno.
Recusio Redacted is a film by Helen Dewbery, from a poem by Jacqueline Saphra. The poem appears in the collection Dad, Remember You Are Dead, published by Nine Arches Press.
Helen will be familiar to followers of Moving Poems from her earlier films previously shared here. Aside from being a marvelous film-maker, she is co-editor with Chaucer Cameron of the online journal Poetry Film Live.
Jacqueline Saphra is a playwright as well as a poet. Her writing has been shortlisted for the T.S. Eliot prize, among other honours. She lives in London and teaches at The Poetry School.
This beautiful video of Alice Oswald‘s Mist is by Aodhagán O’Flaherty, a film-maker previously unknown to me. The poet is very well known, especially in UK, but the film is one of those random discoveries that sometimes happens when wandering the web.
I found in my searches that Aodhagán O’Flaherty is Irish-born, now Berlin-based. I found no other videos from him, and so it seems all the more surprising that this one has such an assured and affecting way with images, editing, rhythm, sound and narration. Of course, it helps as well that the poem is so wonderful. It can be read on the page here.
Because Goddess is Never Enough draws its inspiration from the life of Austrian-born dancer, choreographer, actor and painter, Tilly Losch (1903-1975). The film is a collaboration between film-maker Jane Glennie and writer/performer Rosie Garland, both award-winning artists in the UK. The subject is the representation of women artists in history, especially the ways their stories have been footnoted in relation to famous men. One of the film’s lines about Tilly’s place in history: “blink and you’ll miss her”.
From the web page for the film:
Tilly Losch was an Austrian dancer who worked with prominent, and cutting-edge, choreographers and artists in the UK and the US, from the West End to Hollywood. She was also a choreographer in her own right, who later turned to painting.
Through moving images and poetry Glennie and Garland investigate the elusive and fragmentary nature of Tilly’s life, evoking the spirit of the 1920s–40s when she was at the peak of her fame.
The film is about self-worth, the authentic self, and the credibility of creative women – Losch was someone who was at times exploited yet determined to maintain a path of her own making despite the obstacles that were very much present in her era… highlighting how far women have come in 90 years, and yet how far they still have to go to get recognition and true independence.
Jane Glennie’s film-making most often involves rapid animation of still images, creating a highly dynamic sense of cinematic motion. At ten minutes duration, this is her most ambitious film to date, involving thousands of her own photographs, meticulously layered with contrasting rhythms that underscore voice and text.
Rosie Garland’s expressive narration of her own poem is highly effective. Her voice alternates with that of Alison Glennie, equally as effective in the first-person sections that evoke Tilly speaking for herself. The overall soundtrack is mainly just the two voices accompanied by textural sound effects. This minimal approach proves an excellent stylistic choice.
All the different elements of the film combine organically and assuredly, suggesting a great collaboration between the artists involved. Because Goddess is Never Enough is a unique evocation of one woman’s creative life and by extension the lives of so many creative women throughout time.
Caroline Reid‘s marvelous poetry and performance combines with film-making by Patrick Zoerner in this videopoem, To Touch & Taste a Comet. The poem can be read on the page at Cordite Poetry Review. It is the first in a collection of Caroline’s prose and poetry titled Siarad (a Welsh word meaning to talk, to speak). From a review of the book by Alison Clifton in Stylus Lit:
Reid’s poems and short stories are allegorical in their impact: seemingly mundane events are elevated to the symbolic and the sacred… While Reid’s striking similes and surprising metaphors are a true joy, her observations about the human condition are also brilliant – in turns poignant and pointed… To find novelty in the commonplace, seek the exceptional in the banal, and write thought-provoking observations without resorting to cliché – these are remarkable skills.
Last month we shared another of Caroline’s outstanding collaborative videopoems, murder girl gets wired.
In Requiem for a spoken word, a short poem by Marc Zegans comes into play with experimental computer animation by Jim Hall. Both artists approach their work with a jazzy, improvisational openness that makes for a quirky videopoem about a single word.
A number of Marc’s collaborations with different film-makers have been shared before here at Moving Poems, as well as an interview with him by Dave Bonta.
This video came to my attention while scrolling the list of finalists at the 2021 Ó Bhéal International Poetry-Film Competition in Ireland. It is also published on the website of +Institute for Experimental Arts in Athens, which runs the video poetry festival there each year.