~ The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross ~
Drawing from a wide range of poetry films, an award-winning artist and animator looks at what works and what doesn’t work, and why.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “Ursula”
Ursula
poem by Robert Peake
film by Robert Peake and Valerie Kampmeier
2013
Ursula reminds me of a time when the world was adjusting to the aftermath of World War II. This videopoem has the feeling of the Beat era. I love the grainy black-and-white imagery, the car and street video played in reverse.
I love the bear metaphor. Women aren’t usually referred to as bears, at least to my knowledge. I suppose bear is a term for a woman whose ethics are questionable. However, I feel the images of the bear and woman at the end could work better if they were interwoven from the beginning rather than left at the end. It’s almost as if the artist is making sure we understand the symbolism. I think he should give his audience more credit. I’m sure we would get the meaning without having to be told. It’s nice footage and should be utilized throughout the video. This would give the visual a stronger presence. Sometimes this particular medium gets choppy. I would rather see the artist perceive the work more like a painting rather than a puzzle.
Black and white, a car video in reverse, Ursula is a real “dame.” She is the quintessential babe who travels through a Kerouac novel—And The Hippos Were Boiled In Their Tanks comes to mind. (That’s the book he co-wrote with Burroughs.) She is a tough-cussing, cigarette smoking, hard-drinking, die-young broad. Ursula is the meat and potatoes of a generation that rejected the post-WW II suburban Americana to live the subterranean lifestyle. Ursula is nostalgia at its best.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: Martha McCollough
When I fall in love I fall hard. Such is the case with Martha McCollough. Recently Dave Bonta posted Break & Remake, one of Martha’s outstanding video poems. Not wanting to review something that was so close to having been published, I went to Vimeo and checked out her other work.
The other night I went to the opera and saw Lulu by Alban Berg with sets by William Kentridge. I love opera, but the main reason why I went was to see Kentridge’s sets. His use of typography, animation, and black and white imagery (drawings and video) was outstanding and set the tone for the time in which it was written. It was DADA (my favorite art movement) in its entirety. I felt like I was there in the 30s right before the fascists dubbed all experimental and political art Degenerate. I won’t go into critiquing Lulu. It was an amazing moment.
The real star here is Martha McCollough. Her use of type and collage allows us to enter into a world of pop culture, oppression, and high art. Much like Lulu, her flawless use of movement captures that wonderful feeling of nostalgia. To me, Martha is timeless.
I will not single out one piece to analyze and critique. I think the entire collection of videos should be watched. In viewing the progression of Martha’s work, I have found an artist who understands the marriage of video, illustration, fine art and poetry.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “Millionaire”
Millionaire
Poem by Mab Jones
Animation by Lauren Orme and Jordan Brookes
Dedicated to (about) the poet Johnny Giles
2015
A love poem in every sense of the word, Millionaire is uncomplicated and embraces the value of being in love. This video poem is wonderful and exquisitely charming. Unpretentious and lovely, it gets the point across without being sappy or corny.
I love the simple frame-by-frame line animation. The motion aspect is wonderful, but when I close my eyes and just listen to the audio, the poem still works. Every aspect of this video poem can stand alone, but all together, it is a very special treat.
There is nothing complicated about this piece and that’s why it works. No kitchen sink, just plain and uncomplicated. Millionaire follows the theory and quote by Mies van der Rohe: less is more. So many times, we as artists fall in love with our work and want to incorporate every detail. This is not always necessary in order to get one’s point across.
Millionaire is a true love poem. It is stunning in its plainness and doesn’t waver. There is not much else to say, just a beautiful piece.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “Andrew Wyeth, Painter, Dies at 91”
Andrew Wyeth, Painter, Dies at 91
Poem by L. S. Klatt
Film by Tom Jacobsen
Motionpoems 2012
This delightful videopoem glides along on a journey that inescapably comes to an end with the death of the great artist, Andrew Wyeth.
Visually this film is a real treat for me. I work with the same program Tom Jacobsen uses, Adobe After Effects. Jacobsen succeeds beautifully at weaving in the software while allowing the imagery to follow the words. The images reveal aspects of Wyeth’s work, creating an exquisite statement.
Continuity is a huge issue for me. Jacobsen’s use of two very different art forms, drawing and photography, is successful: the two seamlessly overlap without distracting the viewer. There are times when an artist will throw in a photo for whatever reason, and it doesn’t always work. But in this film it helps to create a painterly rhythm. The use of abstract forms such as ink drops also adds to the flow, assisting the foreground images as they reveal the spoken words.
I love the music, and I think it’s a good fit. But however slight a criticism it may be, I could do without the sound effects. Why throw in the kitchen sink when the piece is so pleasing and pure?
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “Death And Co”
Death And Co
Poetry by Silvia Plath (“Death & Co.”)
Directed by David Lobser
Produced by Troublemakers.tv for The Poetry Movement, the Josephine Hart Poetry Foundation
2015
Death And Co is so damn creepy and disturbing that it makes my skin crawl. I love it. The animation is awesome. I’m still trying to figure out how it was done. My guess is the artist(s) used Maya or Cinema 4D. The dark, atmospheric quality gives the viewer a feeling of being in a dreadful, unearthly place. Plath leads us into this strange and unsettling world where there’s no turning back. Like it or not, we must deal with living in her bitter reality.
Sylvia Plath’s prophecy offers us a disturbing glimpse into a place where suffering is the only feeling that exists. It’s both sad and enlightening, but unless you’re a lover of darkness and dystopian forecasting, this is a very hard place to sit and digest. It’s as if we were able to insert a camera into Plath’s mind and capture her nightmares. This video is successful in exposing just that.
Is Plath a soothsayer? Possibly. As we know, she suffered from depression and committed suicide at the age of 30. The Vimeo description of this poem states that she suffered from postpartum depression. I’m not a mental health clinician but upon reading a bit about her history, she had made several attempts at suicide. This leads me to believe she was bi-polar. However, at the end of the day Plath was and still is one of America’s greatest poets regardless of what demons haunted her. Perhaps without this infliction, or inspiration if you will, the world would have been robbed of a literary great.
I also would like to give credit to Troublemakers.tv. They did a fabulous job in capturing the unsettling genius Sylvia Plath is known and admired for.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “Scalia’s Poetry Slam”
View on Vimeo or at Daily Kos (which includes the text of the found poem).
Scalia’s Poetry Slam
Animation by Mark Flore
2015
For many years I made a living poking fun at people. And why not? There was money to be made and I was good at it. I’m still pretty good at it but now I’m a bit more reluctant to parade my sarcasm and wit for fear of backlash. There are those who misinterpret humor, sarcasm, satire, etc., but as the saying goes, fuck ’em if they can’t take a joke.
That being said, this week’s (bi-monthly) review is an animation that pokes fun at Supreme Court Judge Antonin Scalia—as well as the poetry community. The creator Mark Flore takes a political stand and combines it with slam poetry. The result is hilarious.
Scalia’s Poetry Slam is well done, unpretentious and fun. It reminds me of how unassuming animation on TV used to be when I was a kid. Aside from the process being labor intensive (artists would hand-draw every movement), I assume there was a time factor involved as well. The cartoons were created for network television and clients can be demanding. The artists had to get the message across using a minimal amount of movement. This applied to some animation houses but not all (Disney had larger teams and produced multiple projects). Much like the cartoons of yesteryear, this one gets the point across without all the bells and whistles. I like to compare it to the style of humor in a New Yorker cartoon: it’s the old less-is-more theory. The piece relies on simplicity to carry the joke. Scalia’s Poetry Slam does a good job in embracing irony and helps put a smile on one’s face, reminding us not to take ourselves too seriously.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “At The Same Moment”
https://vimeo.com/68786837
At The Same Moment
Animation by Ezra Wube
2013
Let me begin by saying that although I appreciate the craft, I am not a poet. That’s why I partnered up with Nicelle Davis and assorted other poets to illustrate books and video poems. I visually interpret their words and manipulate the images to move in sync with the audio, thereby merging the two art forms. This is what video poetry is all about, the combination of visual, audio and time.
At The Same Moment is exactly that. It is a video poem that incorporates time and visual art, yet successfully transcends the absence of words. Again, I am not a poet, but watching this piece I feel as if I can write my own, thus allowing me to shift seamlessly from illustrator to writer and then motion artist.
At The Same Moment consists of stop motion animation paint on a single canvas. Personally I think it takes a lot of guts to paint, photograph and cover the images with new ones. Every image is well done, and they have a beautiful quality to them. It reminds me of the artist/animator William Kentridge who draws an image in charcoal, photographs it and erases it but not completely. He continues to draw over on the same paper, leaving a ghost of his images.
There is something to be said for painting. For me, good painting is uplifting and bad painting is annoying. This coupled with movement is perhaps how this type of art should be displayed, on a monitor in someone’s home, office, museum, etc. It would be a wonderful alternative to static art.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “Ursonate (an excerpt)”
https://vimeo.com/66612735
Ursonate (an excerpt)
Poetry by Kurt Schwitters
Film by William Shum
2013
According to the description on Vimeo, this is
A short excerpt from Kurt Schwitters’ sound poem, “Ursonate”. The typeface was created from scratch and inspired by the “Merz” art Schwitters created, hence the name, “Merzy”.
Kurt Schwitters, along with Hugo Ball and Hans Kasper Ivan Karp, was a major pioneer of sound poetry. This art form gained recognition in the early 20th century. A product of Dada, sound poetry has been popular in several movements and has successfully influenced and moved into postmodernism. I would say with confidence that its influence has also made its way into hip-hop and rap.
Dada is probably my favorite movement. There were so many rules that were broken. It gave significance to graphic design, paving the way for it to become a viable art form and not just a vehicle for advertisements. Dada allowed for experimentation. I believe this way of thinking was the result of World War I and its aftermath. Artists always have a lot to say but at this point in time, there wasn’t much to lose and Europe was in the process of trying to recover. Needless to say, the impact of history will always be significant because we use art to record our culture. That said, I will get on with my opinion of this mini masterpiece.
Ursonate is one of Schwitters’ better-known works. The video by William Shum is an excerpt from the poem. The typeface may be the first created from scratch and used in a video poem. What I like most about this piece is the fact that it is stimulating and I have no idea what the poet is saying. I don’t need to know. The message comes across perfectly through the images and the recording of the sound, which is Schwitters’ voice.
I love the black and white video; the imagery of toys (by the way, I had the Charlie Weaver Bartender toy that appears in the beginning of the video) interlaced with street scenes, dogs, and stoop-sales continues to enhance the feeling of a time that, although not too long ago, is rapidly dissolving. The type flies in, out, overlaps—creating a flow that keeps us at this point in time. The subway scene at the end is a very nice touch. This too has sound, which although it isn’t made up of words, seems to complete the video very nicely.
If sound poetry was invented for performance, then video poetry could be a feasible fit. It’s as if the two genres were made for each other.
Here’s what the Wikipedia article on sound poetry says about the poem:
Schwitters composed and performed an early example of sound poetry, Ursonate (1922–32; a translation of the title is Original Sonata or Primeval Sonata). The poem was influenced by Raoul Hausmann’s poem “fmsbw” which Schwitters heard recited by Hausmann in Prague, 1921. Schwitters first performed the piece on 14 February 1925 at the home of Irmgard Kiepenheuer in Potsdam. He subsequently performed it regularly, both developing and extending it. He published his notations for the recital in the last Merz periodical in 1932, although he would continue to develop the piece for at least the next ten years.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “Meek”
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 Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “The Mysterious Arrival of an Unusual Letter”
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.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “When At A Certain Party In NYC”
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.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “Hold Me, the Walls are Falling”
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.
