Meek
Poem by Harry Martinson
Film by Ana Perez Lopez
Voice by Johnny Carlson
Oloström is a municipality in Sweden where Ana Perez Lopez did an artist-in-residency. Much like any town or area it boasts of generations that chose to stay, thus preserving its culture—unfortunately not without sacrifice. This is the focus of the video poem Meek.
Oloström could be anywhere. I would compare it to Pittsburgh, but I assume it’s much more visually appealing. This is my guess. I would like to think that Lopez is trying to convince us that there is an aspect which is intriguing, even though it has succumbed to the modern age. All in all I think her interpretation of the poem is dead on. It sheds a light on how modernization has made life in Oloström mundane. “But Oloström grew with a factory, a building where everything from pots, bullets and cars can be made.” (A quote from her Vimeo description.)
Ana chose to animate Meek using a cut paper/wood block style. It’s monochromatic, blue and white, scratchy, and the entire look lends itself to simple computer and/or traditional animation. I suppose the sheet music floating in the background is the same we hear in the video poem. It’s a nice design element, but since I don’t read music, for me it remains a mystery. I’ll take her word for it because it is graphically uncomplicated, which reinforces the message, thereby making Meek a very powerful work of art.
Visit Ana Perez Lopez at Vimeo.
The Mysterious Arrival of an Unusual Letter
Poem by Mark Strand
Film by Scott Wenner
Voice by Don Drive
Recording by Kelly Pieklo
Motionpoems 2013
I love animated videopoems. This appreciation developed while I was growing up watching cartoons with my favorite baby sitter, the television set. Although most animated videopoems cannot be compared to Heckle and Jeckle or Bugs Bunny, they still bring back memories of my formative years, eating Wonder Bread and butter sandwiches. The shows that I watched were filled with sarcasm and also had a dark side. When I look back, one could say that they were for the most part inappropriate and violent. That’s the down side. The up side is that they helped shape my sick sense of humor. Perhaps watching cartoons prepared me for adulthood. It’s sad to think of Tweety Bird as a role model.
The Mysterious Arrival of an Unusual Letter is exactly what I’m talking about in terms of it having a hint of darkness. The design is well done, the timing is perfect and the art is beautifully animated. The first scene involving the graffiti subway is a nice touch. I won’t bother to compare it to When At A Certain Party In NYC. Both are on the same level in terms of excellence. Both are wonderfully executed and although seemingly simple, they’re amazingly complex. Again the animation is flawless and I am still trying to figure out which program Scott Wenner used. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s some kind of 3D aspect in After Effects, but that’s a technical question we animators like to ponder.
The poetry is wonderful. The ending is a bit of a surprise, but not really. So many times we expect more from a situation and are left hanging. Although the character is plain in appearance he remains expressive and possesses an amazing amount of emotion. This coupled with the poetry makes this videopoem outstanding.
The Mysterious Arrival of an Unusual Letter tells a story that leaves you dangling. We are experiencing a small yet unsettling trip through limbo, which is perhaps closer to reality than we would like to be. It’s sort of like reading a book and having the last page torn out. I could bring this review full circle and continue to talk about how my childhood was shaped by Walt Disney and Looney Tunes, but hopefully by this point my taste in animation has become a bit more sophisticated.
When At A Certain Party In NYC
Poem by Erin Belieu
Animation by Amy Schmitt
View at Motionpoems
This has to be one of the most charming video poems I have seen so far.
For starters, the animation is delightful: well stylized and flawlessly (graphically) designed. I am not usually a huge fan of Adobe Illustrator (I believe that is the program Amy Schmitt used to create the artwork for the animation), but in this case the simplicity of her art complements the poem perfectly. The speed and timing with which the graphics are deployed is seamless. The imagery doesn’t overshadow the poem but brings out the poet’s sense of humor. I could go on and on about the execution of the art, but long story short, it’s great.
The dryness of the poetry and the innocence of the art combine for a perfect fit. Our main character will never be part of the New York scene. She leaves the city not necessarily defeated, but with an acquired knowledge and awareness. It’s the realization that it’s all a bunch of bullshit, so why bother?
The message is very specific in terms of coming from a place like the Midwest and going to NYC. In other words, it’s basically a reality check. Belieu points out the pretentiousness of the whole hipster-scene phenomenon, which has gotten completely out of control. As a matter of fact, as long as I can remember, every scene has gotten out of control whether it’s the hipster regime, area- or zipcode-envy. People dream of coming to a place like New York for countless reasons. Some seek stardom and others are just looking for a more accepting lifestyle, a place to fit in. When they arrive, they either feel right at home or on another planet. I myself, a native New Yorker, ironically can relate to the Midwesterner who decides not to stay. I like to take a step back sometimes and observe the people who have come to my home town, agree to pay the high rents and act out their fantasies—which may or may not include someone like me, for of a whole slew of reasons. It is this trite behavior that Belieu has exposed and pokes fun at. Her vision makes me to laugh, and I could not agree more.
The music is great and adds to the nostalgic, late 50s-early 60s, plastic backdrop. I love this video poem. It’s superbly done on every level.
Hold Me, the Walls are Falling
Poetry by Robert Krut
Directed by Nick Paonessa
Embracing the decrepit Downtown Los Angeles imagery brings a nostalgic tone to Robert Krut’s poem, Hold Me, the Walls are Falling. Like so many other big cities, DTLA is falling into the Condo Cancer syndrome of gentrification. “Hold me, hold me because when we look up this will all be gone”, like so many other places whose charm was sculpted by preceding generations. The formula repeats itself: allowing an area to tumble into seediness, sometimes due to a failing economy. Then it’s rediscovered by artists, chop shops, ninety-nine cent stores, and vagrants. Cheap rents and larger spaces is the reason why these places are so attractive.
The street scene is typical. The “illegals” are the ones who are visible along with people who have time to spare and addictions to feed. They can still find low-wage work in sweatshops that will also fall victim to urban renewal.
It’s just a matter of time before this landscape disappears and is eaten up by large corporations, only to make way for more luxury housing or another Disneyland, where the “hipsters” will live six in a room, because it’s the next “cool” neighborhood to inhabit.
I feel the poem is very much in sync with the imagery. It’s telling us that we can’t stop the inevitable. But for this particular moment in time, the calm before the storm so to speak, we can dwell in its loneliness and enjoy the pause before it moves into its next phase.
In a Tub
Poem by Amy Hempel
Directed by Ryan MacDonald
In a Tub is simple yet captivating. The poem offers a solution to our fast-paced world. Found footage of a family vacation is interlaced with Ryan MacDonald’s images. What appeals to me is the use of that crackling noise that one hears on an old LP that has been played over and over since childhood. The imagery is old and fragile, which is visually appealing. The footage is compromised, scratchy, damaged and blurry, and the saturation is high. This gives the work an abstract quality that so many other poetry videos miss.
Amy’s reading of the poem is a bit robotic, but I find her pacing a luxury. I am impressed with the fact that she is alone and searches for places where one can be comfortable, even if it’s interrupted by the goings-on of the surroundings. We can still observe our lives as if we were in a film, or in this case a video. And In a Tub is all about observation and its relationship with water and silence, which at times can be very soothing and is probably the most important aspect, hence the title.
The poem was commissioned for the Juniper Literary Festival, 2012.
Hat-tip: “Poem as Screenplay: Six Video Collaborations“
dollhouse
Poem and film by Shabnam Piryaei
We witness the devastating aftermath of war. I think this subtitle in and of itself is a powerful opening statement for dollhouse and perhaps it should have stopped there.
In all fairness I find the video too long and the poem too short. Somehow it doesn’t match up. The visuals are also quite effective, but knowing a bit of technology, I think it could have been pieced together more effectively. It’s obvious that Piryaei was using green screen, which should have or could have been made to look seamless. The color saturation is high and should have been adjusted. I love the sea of dolls, but again if the poem had been longer, the piece would have had more of an impact. The whole piece should be cut in half. I think we get the point within the first 2 ½ minutes.
I found the cries for Momma a bit melodramatic and again I would have been happier with more words rather than sailing through a poorly shot video.
Democracy
Poem and performance by Leonard Cohen
Directed by Mark Pellington
See also the music video.
I have only known Leonard Cohen as a singer/songwriter. To my surprise I came across his video poem titled Democracy.
Cohen is an outstanding poet and I have been a devoted fan since my adolescence. However I have never seen or heard him just read his poetry, not without musical accompaniment, which was and remains the perfect blend by which Leonard Cohen presents himself. Neither genre supersedes the other. He is indeed an icon and has influenced an entire generation.
Visually, with the exception of the backdrop (flag changing into a bar code at the end), Democracy reminds me of a static poetry reading. Not much movement going on. Perhaps all we need is to watch Cohen stand there, and be the spoken-word artist. He does it very well. There is something to be said for letting purity be the platform and downplaying the drama. The camera plays a significant role in this by switching to close-ups of Cohen, zooming in and out, silhouetting, and coming back in while respecting the graphic element of the piece. This works well, and as we know, his words carry the weight. His voice is juxtaposed, rough but smooth, and he reads with feeling. The bar code provides the perfect ending to this political statement. The background music in my opinion is as important as the visual, which makes them combined vehicles that work well together. I only wish I knew what he is fondling.
This video poem was part of a series called The United States of Poetry, produced by Bob Holman, Josh Blum and directed by Mark Pellington for PBS. Sixty poets were featured, among them, Allen Ginsberg, Lou Reed, Lawrence Ferlinghetti and Ruth Forman.
An interesting bit of information that I learned is that former president Jimmy Carter became the first U.S president to write a book of poetry: Always a Reckoning and Other Poems, published by Crown in 1995 and illustrated by Sarah Elizabeth Chuldenko. (Crown also published Jimmy Stewart and his Poems, which I happen to have illustrated.)
Bob Holman’s website will give you more of an idea of the series.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bo3nurjgADY
Hurricane
Poem and video by Doctor Buckles aka Tattooedloverman
This video is about a dream I had this year that impacted my life immensely. It is experimental. It took me weeks to get it made using iMovie and is quite a bit different from how it started and I envisioned.
Doctor Buckles aka Tattooedloverman is quite the artist and poet. His drawings are spectacular and are a welcome addition to the video. I also love the combination of the little bits of video he incorporates.
The problem I have with Hurricane is the software used. iMovie is O.K. for fooling around and quick editing, but as the main base of movement, doesn’t do the rest of the project justice. The use of fades, ripples and whatnot is a bit cheesy. Using these effects at times makes the words hard to read. In some cases they fly by too fast and it doesn’t give the reader enough time to read the text. The timing could be better as well.
At first I couldn’t see the value of the mixed media. Then after watching it a few times I started to get into the actual video/drawing mix. As I said before I do love the videos. They give the viewer a nice break from the seriousness of the poem.
Just because something is available, keep in mind that throwing in everything but the kitchen sink doesn’t necessarily make for good art. It’s fun to fool around and watch the your images spin, but I would rather focus on the drawings and video with no or limited effects. I think the transitions could match up better as well. Also, I’m not too keen on filters on the photos either. If the photos were sketched out, it would give the piece a whole different feel. I would rather see the drawings and words done in a simple fashion.
In my humble opinion, leave the bells and whistles at home and get back to your core. I know it’s fun to play around, but decent art is the key. If one is seriously going to expose their soul to the world, why not make it a more worthy piece. I look forward to the next one with more drawings and less iMovie clutter.
Only the Lonely by Marie Craven
Poem and reading by Neil Flatman
Music by Dementio 13
When I first viewed Only The Lonely it reminded me of Marina Abramovic’s work. The message and performance is enticing. However, I find most performance art to be lacking in substance and execution. In this case it does not take away from the underlying theme, which I believe to be uneasiness.
A young woman sits in the middle of a white room. It’s apparent she is filled with anxiety as passers-by speed along. They can probably feel her discomfort thus making her unapproachable. Perhaps her presence is so visibly intense they are afraid to engage on any level.
In terms of the video, again the feeling of angst comes across well. The fact that we have to move through the world is frightening, even if we are just sitting still.
The composition seems to be intentionally centered. Personally I would rather have the artist make better use of the female image, possibly close-ups and various camera angles. This would make it much more dramatic. It’s a short video, and I think too much time is wasted using the zoom. Judging from the wall hangings I assume she is in a gallery performing. I would rather experience her in an airport or office building where people come and go only because they have to. In situations such as these, we accept the sterile atmosphere. A location such as an airport or hospital would connect more to life, rather than staring at a bunch of blank canvases and ignoring a person sitting in the middle of a room. I presume that was the artist’s intention. She is part of the exhibition and the attendees are not comfortable connecting with her on any level.
The avoidance of contact by the audience makes Only The Lonely a thought-provoking piece, but I think it could be stronger. Getting the point across is key, but I do wish the artist had taken it a step further and pushed the envelope. The music is really nice but it doesn’t fit the mood. If this piece is about pain and anxiety then the other media should support it. I feel as if the artist is holding back. Give me something I can latch onto and remember, like a nightmare that keeps reoccurring.
Now if I could only get that Roy Orbison song out of my head.
Highway Coda by Matt Mullins (Mull)
Poem and video by Matt Mullins
Music by Michael Pounds
I usually look for collaborations between a video artist and poet, but in the case of Highway Coda, the poet Matt Mullins wears both hats. The visuals are a perfect setting for his poetry. The music by Michael Pounds complements the splendor of this piece. That is the actual partnership. It’s a wonderful soundtrack that takes an otherwise mundane journey and turns it into an adventure, allowing us to visit the past by way of entering lost time.
Concerning the video, the burn filter that Matt applies along with sound effects throws the viewer into a mid-20th-century atmosphere, very cool and nostalgic. The use of looping and reversing of the driving section of the video follows the poem perfectly, thus causing the rhythm of the piece to be emotionally disquieting yet engaging.
I love the unconventional visuals such as garbage and abandoned cars that the poet uses to symbolize icons and landmarks. A good example is the Chinese food container that was taken away by a crow. At first I was confused as to why he chose to show us wings and the crow. But when it’s explained that the crow took the container, realistically it makes perfect sense and adds a bit of humor. This is exactly what a scavenger would do, pick garbage and hold it in high regard as if it found a pot of gold.
There is a part of me that wants to know where the artist is driving, but then I ask myself does it really matter? He may just be coming or going from someplace routine. The impression I get from the video is that the artist resides in and identifies with the past. That’s his perception of life. This to me is what On The Road would look like if were made into a video poem.
Editor’s note: “The Art of Poetry Film” will be on hiatus for a week or two as Cheryl begin a three-month artist’s residency in Heidelberg, but she assures us she’ll still have time to write columns once she settles in, so filmmakers and videopoets may continue to contact her with suggestions of collaborative projects to review.
http://vimeo.com/ondemand/ostersjoar
Watch the full-length film at Vimeo On Demand (enter the code “movingpoems” for a free, 2-day rental through Jan. 31).
Poem by Tomas Tranströmer
Filmed by Eva Jonasson and James Michael Wine
Original score by Charlie Wine
Longwalks Productions website
This is probably the longest yet most beautiful video poem I have reviewed so far. Since I am primarily a visual person, the video/graphic aspects usually spark my interest first. That’s not to say that the poem is not equally as important, but sometimes when the two are placed together one overrides the other.
This is not the case in Baltic Seas. It is lengthy and slow, which allows the viewer to take in every aspect of what it has to offer. It tells a story in six parts. Although many images are repeated, each section has its own canvas. We are on a life-long voyage. The first part is about the ship. The poet conveys it as an organism with power and purpose, taking its passengers in the hopes that they will obtain the knowledge this particular journey has to offer.
Section Two opens with images of a graveyard and speaks of an island with trees. Its focus is an old woman’s melancholy, remembering her past. We are led into a combination of life and death, “we walk together.” Then there is talk of war. The visuals are of the Nazi invasion, described as “a gust of wind.” “Terror confined to the moment” — in other words, this too shall pass. We see a memorial stuck into the sand. It’s a mine reminding us of a time when darkness had fallen. This should not be forgotten. Unlike most memorials it is quiet and gentle, thus allowing the theme to continue to unfold in a graceful manner.
In Section Three we are again reminded of the passage of life, through images of a baptismal font. The story carved is biblical, but the poet then speaks of numbers. The filmmakers use the Hex Color/binary code to illustrate this. It’s set into the sky, thereby continuing the passage of life, bringing us from antiquity to the post-modern world. Even the sea and its island cannot escape time.
Baltic Seas is a constant reminder that we continue to come full-circle. The environment changes and yet remains the same. It clarifies the lives that were lived and the ones that were lost, as remembered by the old woman. She, the old woman, through loss of family and her own death has somehow risen above it.
This is one video poem not to rush through — and not to be missed. You need to spend time and enjoy every aspect. It is to be digested rather than guzzled, like a fine wine. My only concern is that we live in a world where most people have the attention span of a gnat. My question is, in our overly caffeinated society, who has the thirty minutes?
Invest the time; you won’t be sorry. It’s a work of art you will remember for a very long time. If you are someone who is involved in making video poetry, it is something to aspire to.