~ Video Library ~

A Poem for A, by Harold Pinter

I like the silent-movie style of interrupting the action with text. I wonder why more videopoems don’t adopt this style?

This is the work of independent filmmaker Justin Anderson, and is dedicated to Roksanda Ilincic. The Vimeo page contains complete credits as well as the following artist’s statement:

This film takes its structure from a short love poem by Harold Pinter written in 1974 about Lady Antonia Fraser his then lover and subsequent wife. She is and was the ‘Light of his Life’. In making this film I was trying evoke some of the feeling of the mid-seventies YSL, a beautiful girl with a rich dark skin wearing a dress that seems to emit light, she is hit by cracks of sunlight. This a very formal film about colour, form and minimal movement. Roksanda Ilincic is designer I greatly admire; her work is very sculptural, feminine and has a real filmic quality.

Paraguas (Umbrella) by Alfredo Boni de la Vega

A jazzy illustration by Barcelona-based L’esstudi of a haiku by Mexican writer Alfredo Boni de la Vega (1914-1965). I like the video better than the poem itself, which strikes me as being too metaphor-laden to qualify as a real haiku:

Flower of sadness
that opens when tears start falling
from the sky.

Sometimes a Man, by Rainer Maria Rilke

The joint reading by Zach and Larry Grossberg is especially charming here, but the animation by Francesca Talenti is nice, too. The translation is by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy.

Ballad of the Skeletons by Allen Ginsberg

This is basically a glorified music video from 1997, directed by Gus Van Sant — but with music by Philip Glass and Paul McCartney, and spoken word by none other than Allen Ginsberg. I got a charge out of seeing him dressed as Uncle Sam, though by the end of the video I was beginning to tire of the poet-as-prophet schtick.

Incidentally, Howl, the movie, directed by Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman, is set for release in September. That should breathe some new life into the Ginsberg cult.

Hotel by Guillaume Apollinaire

The filmmaker is Ahmet Tigli, about whom I was able to discover nothing in English. I’m not sure who authored the translation, but here’s the original:

Hôtel

Ma chambre a la forme d’une cage,
Le soleil passe son bras par la fenêtre.
Mais moi qui veux fumer pour faire des mirages
J’allume au feu du jour ma cigarette.
Je ne veux pas travailler — je veux fumer.

Portobello by Morgan Downie

Another film by Alastair Cook for the This Collection project of 100 videopoems about Edinburgh, and his second in collaboration with Morgan Downie — the first was Scene.

Five limericks by Edward Lear

This is “Nonsense Poems,” by Francesca Talenti.

Green Grass by Michelle Firment Reid

Artist Michelle Firment Reid is both the poet and producer here; Austin Tollin handled the cinematography and editing. (via The City Breath Project blog)

Summer Grass by Carl Sandburg

“Imagery and sound by Megan Stewart.” (View more of work on Vimeo.)

Haiku (This cold winter night…) by Yosa Buson

Amusing little animation by Paul Watts, who seems to have remembered what so many Western haiku-appreciators do not: that irreverence is central to the form (it was a reaction against more serious renga poetry).

I Don’t Fear Death by Sandra Beasley

Sandra Beasley is both poet and filmmaker here. This is one of three videos she made for poems from her prize-winning collection I Was the Jukebox. (She also blogs.)

My Story is Not My Own by Steven McCabe

The most ambitious film by a poet for his own poem I’ve yet seen. It even has its own website; go there for the complete credits. Here’s McCabe’s description of the poem and the project:

At the moment of the fatal shots Jacqueline Kennedy was seen fleeing into prehistory, dancing ritualistically, time-traveling to the wild-west and documenting landscape. The film’s running time of 11:22 mirrors the date of the events precipitating the film’s thematic concerns.

‘My Story is Not My Own’ intertwines art forms; featuring four performers (including two dancers), narrators reciting poetry, one singer chanting Javanese-inspired incantations, electronic-ambient music and ‘found’ Super 8 footage from Kashmir in the 1960s.

The film blends scenes of journey, intimations of ritual, emotionality and American political history within an overarching sense of earth’s mystery. Personal and national grief juxtapose with archival footage of distant landscapes evoking a sense of loss.

Archetypal images of grief pervade the film’s imagery via the symbols of starfish, stones and veils. A mythological texture envelops the various manifestations of the ‘widow.’

Wearing her pink outfit, from that tragic day in 1963, she bursts through a saloon’s swinging wooden doors followed by the swelling ocean crashing wildly in faded footage. Linked to nature her story is truly not only her own.

‘One string snaps, this is the sound of what was new, and the oldest vibration of all, following its twin.’

‘My Story is Not My Own’ is a first film from a poet remembering the ‘feeling’ of November, 1963. Watching black & white TV with his mother nearby tending to small children. The film makes an unspoken connection between chemical attacks on the jungles of Vietnam which soon followed and the spirituality of disappeared Neolithic culture.