~ 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: “In a Tub”
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“
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “dollhouse”
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.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: Leonard Cohen’s “Democracy”
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.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “Hurricane”
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.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “Only the Lonely”
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.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “Highway Coda”
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.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “Östersjöar” (“Baltic Seas”)
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.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “Despot’s Progress”
I’m still looking for collaborations to write about, so poetry filmmakers and videopoets: please send me links to your work! Today’s collaboration involved two different filmmakers’ responses to the same poem. First, propaganda cartoons (thank you Walt Disney) compiled by Othniel Smith make a stirring backdrop for Robert Peake‘s poem “Despot’s Progress.”
I would like to begin with a bit of history. Walt Disney was pro-American and produced a number of propaganda animations depicting Hitler and the Nazi party as buffoons. Unfortunately his patriotism irrationally carried over into the 1960s. This resulted in not allowing people to enter Disneyland if their hair was too long. (This was sparked by protests against the Vietnam War that I believe he felt were anti-American.) If memory serves me correctly, Disney enforced a rule limiting the length a man’s hair could to be in order to enter the theme park. Call it discrimination, but it’s an interesting example of what the times were like, and I believe makes the interplay of audio and visuals here even more poignant. Since Disney was calling the shots, does that mean he was right in inflicting this regulation on his clientele? If he had prejudice against hippies with long hair, I wonder who else he didn’t like?
I happen to love cartoons, especially old Disney and Warner Brothers. This blended with Peake’s poetry makes a brilliantly chilling observation of injustice and intolerance. The poem speaks sarcastically of totalitarianism as something we must adhere to. Images of Donald Duck saluting and trying to conform “comically” support this theory, but as you can see it is not funny. The cartoons just make it palatable and easy to swallow. This piece points us in the direction of taking an otherwise unrealistic depiction (the actual animation) to reveal the nightmare that eventually came to fruition. I think the question that should be asked is, when it comes to being prejudiced, what is the real difference between Disney and Hitler? I suppose we can say it was six million Jews, but what about the haircut? The atrocities committed by Hitler were undeniably more severe than Disney’s point of view and perhaps I should not compare the two, but let’s not dismiss the last section of the cartoon, when the baby duck bursts out of the egg saluting “Sieg Heil!” To me that’s where it actually begins.
No matter what kind of discipline you practice, art is a very powerful medium. This couldn’t be more relevant to what happened at Charlie Hebdo last week. Je Suis Charlie!
Music/concept/editing by Swoon; footage: coxyde 1951 AB (IICADOM 903 at the Internet Archive).
Then we have Mark Neys A.K.A. Swoon‘s interpretation, which is equally chilling. The use of vintage footage puts me on the edge of my seat. The music gets under my skin and I can’t help but feel this is the second before a disaster is about to occur. I find in Swoon’s piece the end is very different. There is no baby Hitler being born, just anticipation. What is next? And is there a next? Perhaps a bomb will drop or a tsunami will wash away the mother and child, leaving us with basically the same outcome. The world has changed and continues to change.
See also Robert Peake’s blog post, “Two Views of ‘Despot’s Progress’ (Film-Poems).”
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “Ballad of The Skeletons”
This historic collaboration between Allen Ginsberg (1926-2007), Philip Glass and Paul McCartney was a low budget venture. Gus Van Sant who had ties to the Beat Generation directed it. I happen to love Van Sant’s work, which includes Drugstore Cowboy, Good Will Hunting and Milk. It aired on MTV making Ginsberg one of the oldest artists on the network at the time. This in and of itself is an accomplishment since MTV is primarily youth-oriented. It’s also a good way to acquaint an audience not necessarily familiar with a very important part of our culture.
Glass and McCartney carry the music and Ginsberg the poetry. The recording was produced by Lenny Kaye (Patti Smith group) along with an array of musicians.
The poem was first published in 1995, two years before Ginsberg’s death. The footage of Ginsberg reminds me of the time I saw him at the old Chelsea Hotel picking up his mail. We nodded to each other. I could see he was in pretty bad shape. To approach him would have been an intrusion. As far as I was concerned the acknowledgement was as good as an autograph. This was a special moment for me, and probably an everyday occurrence for him. Such is the price one has to pay for being a celebrity. I’ve also had the pleasure to see him read. Needless to say I’m a big fan.
I love and admire all three artists, but their collaboration created a bomb. To begin with, I adore the use of old footage but the interlooping of Ginsberg’s image in my opinion doesn’t work. I know it’s Ginsberg’s poem, I know, I know. So use Ginsberg as a weave. His image feels too disconnected. It’s as if Van Sant threw him in from time to time just to remind us this is Allen Ginsberg and how important he is. Even if it was low-budget, I think he could have done a better job. The vintage material Van Sant used is pretty powerful on its own. I would have liked to see it used as a backdrop with just Ginsberg’s voice. Another thing I would like to point out is the fact that in the so-called Vietnam Era we had the first war that was televised on a daily basis, thereby desensitizing us as a generation along with generations to come. Perhaps seeing this on a larger screen would have more of an effect, but for the small screen it’s almost dismissible.
The point of the poem as I understand it references the Mexican Day Of The Dead and refers to our figureheads and society as no more than skeletons that are posed, thus leading us to think they are doing something that will improve our lives. I would have liked to see more skeleton and Dead references used. It comes in only at the beginning and if you haven’t noticed by now, I’m a stickler for continuity. This is a very significant piece. If it were revisited today, perhaps it would have more of an impact on me personally. It hits me intellectually but not emotionally. Again, I love Ginsberg with his fuck-you attitude. Although dated I would have liked to be punched in the gut, where it really hurts, making me puke, rather than leaving me feeling detached.
There are two versions. The second is Ginsberg reading and McCartney playing guitar, filmed by one of McCartney’s daughters (which one I don’t know). This poetry video is a performance. I think I like it better than Van Sant’s attempt, which seems to have everything thrown in including the kitchen sink. This to their credit is pure and unpretentious.
Special thanks to Open Culture.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “Affects of Gravity”
Poet Chris Tonelli sent me this article regarding his collaboration with Boston-based performance artist/activist Andi Sutton.
A brief explanation of the video poem: Tonelli and Sutton collaborated on a piece that involved replacing a voiceover on a ride in an amusement park. They substituted Chris’ poem for music that is ordinarily played over loudspeakers. The ride chosen was the Gravitron, which is based on centrifugal force. “The Sculpture In The Memory” is the name of the poem.
Chris recorded the voiceover, which substituted for the music normally used to attract customers and sell tickets. This was a three-day event.
Affects Of Gravity allows the masses to experience high art without the stigma or fear of appearing ignorant. The fact that music is usually played on rides in amusement parks is indeed part of the attraction to the ride, but when replaced by Chris’ poetry, a third aspect is created. This reaches a population that would ordinarily shy away from anything highbrow such as installation art, therefore allowing the average person to gain an elite cultural understanding at least for a brief moment. I’m sure if people were listening, they would realize that the poem is about the Gravitron experience. But for most people the original intent was to enjoy the actual ride. This is the reason why people frequent amusement parks. The sound continues to remain a backdrop.
Sutton’s video in my opinion is perfect. It captures the gritty atmosphere of a seedy amusement park. There is an air of sleaze and perversion that is amplified, which personally leads me to a place my parents warned me about. For me it is nostalgia at its creepiest. I suppose some people would equate this to a fear of clowns.
This is a wonderful performance piece and I love it when artists think outside of the box. By incorporating the two genres, poetry and installation, they have created a fresh experience and perhaps gained a new audience as well.
I emailed Chris and asked him to further explain the project. These are his words:
I was giving a reading at the Plough & Stars (I think) in Cambridge and Andi was in the audience. And she approached me after the reading wondering if I wanted to collaborate on something based on the poems that I had read…13 weird poems (a chapbook called FOR PEOPLE WHO LIKE GRAVITY AND OTHER PEOPLE, Rope-A-Dope Press) told in the voice of Gravitron, the carnival ride. The bizarre thing about that is, the poems were based on an art installation I’d experienced at MASSMoCA, not an experience I had at a carnival.
Anyway, what we settled on was replacing the typical pop music that would be played inside the Gravitron with a recording of me reading the poems. This was at the Topsfield Fair…Massachusetts’ big state fair. So we asked the operators how much we’d need to pay them to do this (how much they thought it might cost them in ticket sales), we priced the cost of a bus to get people we knew out to the fair (in case NO ONE at the fair wanted to ride it), and applied for a grant from MIT for like 3K and got it! So I had the poems recorded, we went to the fair and made the switcheroo, and Andi filmed it…capturing the responses of the riders, etc. Her thing as an artist is confronting people with art, not in a typical art setting, but when they aren’t necessarily expecting it, out in public.
Here’s a review of the project. An excerpt:
[W]e were prepared to pay more attention to the poetry than the kids around us. And they were all kids, talking loudly, full of sugar and giddy with a day at the fair. They could not have cared less about the poetry and sound recordings, and Colin even noted how they seemed to be trying to drown out the sounds by stamping their feet.
Yet, when the ride started to spin and there was nothing but the whir of the motors, the sound of the recordings and the pull of gravity, something seemed to change. Tonelli’s voice, the voice of the Gravitron, spoke with authority. The machine demanded our attention, pulled at us and spoke to us at the same time. For that brief period, the length of one midway ride, our small group of artists and children understood the Gravitron in a way that I doubt any of us will understand any other carnival ride.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “Poem of the Spanish Poet”
The Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Mark Strand (1934-2014) gives an amazing delivery of the reading of his poem, Poem of the Spanish Poet, caught on film by director Juan Delcan and animated by Delcan and Yun Wang.
Let me begin by saying that overall this is a stunning piece. It is beautifully shot and captures the intensity of Strand’s persona while he reads and dreams of a more romantic existence as a Spanish poet, rather than an American one. Again handsomely shot and exquisitely designed, the animation is without question a wonderful addition. Within its simplicity, Poem of the Spanish Poet evokes a feeling of melancholy we so often dwell in and fall in love with.
I really love the piece as it is but I feel it’s divided. Starting with the animated title, I wanted the drawings/animation to be the backdrop of the video. At first I was a bit disappointed but because the cinematography is so stunning, I readily accepted the switch. Then suddenly halfway through we are back to watching an animation. The question is do we need both, or should the artist just have chosen one or the other? In using both, can the video be blended in a way where the switch isn’t as abrupt? I have watched this several times and I want the director to tell me what aspect of the piece is more important, film, animation or both?
Another question is: do we need to switch back to film and see the poet at the end, or can we just be satisfied with his voiceover flowing across the illustration? When combining film and animation, one runs the risk of it being a crap-shoot—it can be wonderfully woven or a complete disaster. Needless to say it is not an easy task to accomplish. Delcan chose to give equal time to both art forms. This in my opinion breaks the continuity of the piece.
However, upon further interpretation, perhaps this division was part of the overall game plan. According to the poem, the poet moves into writing a poem, giving us a poem within a poem. This may be the reason why the video is deliberately divided. It’s as if the poet is a time traveler stepping from reality into the abstract. In which case this would make perfect sense. As I said before, combining genres can be very tricky. I for one would like to see a smoother transition.
Juan Delcan is best known in poetry-film circles for his animation of The Dead by Billy Collins, which has over 800,000 views on YouTube and won the main prize at ZEBRA Poetry Film Festival, Berlin, 2008.
The Dead possesses a certain charm that is lacking in Poem of the Spanish Poet. Again, this may be due to the way video and animation were combined in the latter. In The Dead, Delcan fully employs movement and camera angles, whereas Poem of the Spanish Poet feels a bit stiff and contrived.
I suggest watching Poem of the Spanish Poet more than once. You be the judge.
Thanks to Motionpoems.
