~ Animation ~
Dog by Richard Scott
An animation by Kate Jessop:
A young man comes to terms with his sexuality and confronts his bully in his home neighbourhood of Merton (London).
Specially commissioned for the Southbank Festival of Neighbourhood 2013, adapted from the poem by Richard Scott.
Click through to Vimeo for the text of the poem (or watch the newly uploaded version with subtitles).
Âne Dormant / Donkey Sleeping by Jacques Prévert
A charming animation made for French television in 2014 by Caroline Lefèvre. (There’s also a version without subtitles.) It’s one of thirteen shorts made by different directors for the collection “En Sortant de L’École,” a televised tribute to Prévert. For more on the making of Âne Dormant, see the blog.
A Petty Morning Crime by Georgi Gospodinov
Bulgarian writer Georgi Gospodinov‘s poem in an utterly brilliant animation by Asparuh Petrov and the Compote Collective. Here’s the description from Vimeo:
А murder in the second degree, that doesn’t cut down the guilt…
04:01′ / DCP / 2015 / directed by Asparuh Petrov
“A Petty Morning Crime” is based on the original poem by Georgi Gospodinov of the same title. The film is part of the visual poetry project “Mark & Verse” produced by Compote Collective.
It was selected for ZEBRA 2016 and featured as a film of the month at PoetryFilm Kanal. Here’s the conclusion of their essay (worth reading in its entirety), via Google Translate:
A Petty Morning Crime convinces on all levels: from the voice, the sound design, the integration of the writing into the picture and the manner in which the poem is adapted visually. The adaptation retains a certain piece of work without falling into the illustration trap. The abstract figures, the spatial elements and the strong noises and sounds divert the attention of the viewer from the direct correspondences of word and image, and open his eyes to the special cinematic pictorial language, as much as the text also the everyday and banal pages of life poetry.
Transmission by Chris Sakellaridis
A gorgeous animation by Afroditi Bitzouni accompanies a recitation by the Anglo-Greek poet Chris Sakellaridis. The echo effect makes it a bit hard to understand at first, but the text is included at the end of a review at The Creators Project, which begins:
Animated paper cutouts a la Henri Matisse come together to form a visual representation of a poem influenced by the Greek mythological character Orpheus. In Transmission, illustrator and animator Afroditi Bitzouni interprets Chris Sakellaridis’s poem of the same name through a form of collage animation. The seamless fluidity of Bitzouni’s animation resembles the work of Matt Smithson in his Decoding the Mind video. Taking cues from a chilling score by John Davidson, Bitzouni creates fragmented landscapes and abstract humanoids from scraps of colored paper. The majority of the cut outs are grain layer construction paper while others look like they were taken from a magazine or book.
The film is part of the 3361 Orpheus project,
an experimental performance, that combines poetry, music, animation, dance and opera. Ιt draws inspiration from a range of retellings and adaptations of Orpheus’s myth.
The performance’s concept is based on a triptych. The dismemberment and subsequent journey of Orpheus’s head from the river Evros to the island to Lesvos and the creation of his Oracle near the Petrified Forest. The spatial, disembodied, satellite voice coming from the constellation Lyra, where the lyre was placed after his death. The fate of Orpheus’s limbs, buried near Mount Olympus.
The main characters in the narrative are Hermes, in his capacity as psychopomp and transporter of dead souls; Eurydice, recounting her own experience, in the form of shade and dryad, as well as memory; and Orpheus with his lyre, which is seen as a fourth character, a creature alive with its own vital energy.
This is Bitzouni’s second appearance at Moving Poems. Back in 2014 I shared her animation of Night by Tasos Livaditis, a video from Tin House magazine’s late, lamented videos section, Tin House Reels.
Known Unto God by Bill Manhire
British animator Suzie Hannah teamed up with New Zealand’s poet laureate Bill Manhire for this poetry film, part of the Fierce Light series co-commissioned by 14-18 NOW, Norfolk and Norwich Festival and Writers Centre Norwich. It was “Voiced by Stella Duffy, with Sound Design by Phil Archer,” says the description on Hannah’s website, which continues:
Mud and and pigment animation interpreting Bill Manhire’s poem about tragic death of youths in WW1, comprised of 14 short epitaphs for unknown NZ soldiers killed at the Somme, and for unnamed refugees drowning as they flee from wars now, 100 years later.
The film has been selected for screening at the following: 14th London Short Film Festival 2017, Aesthetica Short Film Festival 2016, O Bhéal Poetry Film Festival 2016, Zebra Poetry Film Festival 2016, Interfilm 32nd International Short Film Festival Berlin 2016
“Known Unto God writes the epitaphs to the lost of our world: those fallen soldiers of the Somme whose bodies were never found; those refugees of today who drown seeking a better life for themselves and their families. Bill Manhire and Suzie Hanna have created a bold and powerful memorial to the voiceless, and a reminder that WW1 was a conflict that shook the entire world, and that our lives have grown ever more interconnected since. ” Sam Ruddock, Writers Centre Norwich
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “It turns out”
It turns out
poem and film by Martha McCollough
2012
Martha McCollough is one of my absolute favorite artists. It turns out is another one of her pieces that is over the top.
She combines one voiceover that uses echo with another that is just plain-spoken. And she gives us two formats in one, the written work and spoken word. It’s as if they are two separate poems. Could it be one is imagined and the other based in reality? What is the message? We ask for help, but does it exist?
There’s a nice collage effect, interlacing texture with line animation and design. I love the voiceover. Images of a floor plan are juxtaposed with talk about no help from a help desk. I often feel that way. Are we to assume that we must venture on alone? Could she be talking about immigration? Electing Trump? Trying to escape from the horrors of war and reality? We are left to fend for ourselves, applying her words however we can to assist us on our journey. Have technology and the media impaired our senses and way of being? Or am I reading too deeply into what has been in front of us all along?
We see imagery of people running, wolves running towards them — a metaphor. There are so many questions to be asked in such uncertain times.
So how does one go about critiquing a work that is perfect in its imperfection? It turns out does seem somehow very fitting for the post-election funk we are feeling. Can we call it prophetic? Is this what people have been trying to say all along? It makes me wonder what is real and what has been manipulated to appear so.
Interrupted Nap by bpNichol
Another short excerpt from Justin Stephenson‘s terrific film The Complete Works, based on the poetry of bpNichol. (See my post of the “White Sound” excerpt for more about the project, including my thumbnail review of the film.) “In this segment, Nichol reads his visual text, Interrupted Nap. The film translates the reading into an animated sequence,” Stephenson notes on Vimeo. He also has a post on the film’s website which goes into more detail, and includes images of the source text (click through for those).
Interrupted Nap is a recording from the 1982 collection, Ear Rational. In it we hear snippets of a narrative, “Once upon a time…,” which are interrupted by bursts of vocal sounds. It sounds as if the narrator is having difficulty telling the story. The word “aphasia”, the inability to make sense in language or of language, appears at the end of the piece. In Interrupted Nap, either the listener has receptive aphasia, or the narrator has expressive aphasia.
The source text is a series of visual panels that appear to have been reproduced from pages on which someone has used a magic marker to write. The marker has bled through each page to the subsequent pages onto which new material has then been written.
Nichol presents the text as if his visual and speaking faculties operate like the head of a magnetic tape recorder, reading and speaking the information on the page including the “noise” from the marker bleed.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “Forgetfulness”
Forgetfulness
poem and voiceover: Billy Collins
animation: Julian Grey of Head Gear
part of a series produced by JWT-NY
2007
We are brought into the reality of forgetting what we once enjoyed. What was once important, now a memory… at best.
Sometimes I feel guilty writing a good review. I assume my readers prefer to be forewarned concerning a video poem that is sub-par so as not to waste their time. I know I do. There are times when I will forgo watching a film or reading a book that was panned in the media. But when I stumble upon a work that I believe is worth noticing, I can’t help but sing its praises. Such is the case of Forgetfulness by former U.S. poet laureate Billy Collins.
Forgetfulness is a visual treat. Animator Julian Grey of Head Gear employs the old-film technique that gives the video an overall feel of nostalgia. Technically the video appears to rely quite heavily on its use of masks. This helps to make images disappear and assists in building movement, thereby contributing to its fast pace and timing.
Grey incorporated a small amount of animation, which blends in very nicely. I like to call this method altered video. (Perhaps I am coining this phrase because I Googled it and there doesn’t seem to be a concrete definition. Well, at least not where Google is concerned.)
I love the overexposure and pastel colors that are anything but soothing, giving the video an almost creepy feeling.
The poem reminds me of growing older and losing the memories we once had. Lost are the stories, words and events that have slipped out from under us, barely a memory at best. I can’t think of a more gentle way of addressing a part of life that is inevitable.
Human by Meghann Plunkett
Andrés Fernández Cordón of the Buenos Aires-based studio Sloop animated and directed this adaptation of a charming poem by U.S. poet Meghann Plunkett. The Vimeo description notes that “We approached the production much in the same way the poem reads, step by step, drawing one frame after the other without knowing before hand where it would take us.” Plunkett provided the voiceover, and the music is by Shayfer James.
The video was featured at Luna Luna Magazine on August 30, with an accompanying appreciation by Aja Monet, a fellow poet and friend of Plunkett’s since college, as she recounts. Check it out.
The Art of Poetry Film with Cheryl Gross: “Wayne the Stegosaurus” and “Cigar Box Banjo”
Wayne the Stegosaurus
poem: Kenn Nesbitt
co-directors: Aran Quinn, Jeff Dates
3D lead artsts: Rob Petrie, Jeff Dates
produced for Motionpoems
2014
Wayne the Stegosaurus is a delightful, airy children’s poem written by Kenn Nesbitt. The animation is rendered beautifully and produced by The Mill, a Chicago-based production company.
The poem is intended for children. I watched it a few times looking for a clue if the artists were withholding a nightmare. No such luck. Just a plain and simple video poem intended purely to entertain.
The animation is delightful. Pastel hand-painted watercolors move about. The action appears to be frame-by-frame and alludes to a stop-motion effect. I may be wrong, but since this is a high-production studio, Wayne the Stegosaurus was probably completely done on computer. It’s a treat to see the artist’s hand at work and it would be nice if this had been done “old school,” but no matter how it was done, the outcome is magnificent and charming, and the viewer can’t help but fall in love with it.
That being said, there is nothing to analyze or rip apart. It’s perfect in its simplicity.
Then I stumbled upon Cigar Box Banjo by Kim Addonizio. The content is much grittier and more to my taste.
Cigar Box Banjo
poem: Kim Addonizio
voiceover: Johanna Braddy
director and sound designer: Danny Madden
editor: Mari Walker
performers: Hannah Elder, Jon Thibault, and Iere Castagne
produced for Motionpoems
2015
The editing is terrific. The footage is seamlessly woven together and reads like an indie film, powerful and poignant. It’s well done, not at all corny, and a good mixture of old and new footage. The song “Dark Was the Night, Cold Was the Ground,” written and performed by Blind Willie Johnson, is a perfect addition and allows the piece to flow very nicely. I also have to mention that the design on the entire piece is sophisticated and exciting to watch. I found it refreshing, and I have nothing negative to say on this one either. I liked watching both videos back to back.
Aside from both being poetry films, Wayne the Stegosaurus and Cigar Box Banjo are very different. Wayne embraces a colorful, safe world, while Cigar Box tells an entirely different story. But both are well written and visually outstanding — examples of video poetry at its finest.
Editor’s note: A huge congratulations to Cheryl — and to her collaborator, the poet Nicelle Davis — for having a film accepted for ZEBRA, the world’s foremost poetry film festival, for the third time in a row! Active Shooter Event will be screened at the ZEBRA Poetry Film Festival Münster|Berlin, October 27-30, 2016 at the Schlosstheater cinema in Münster, Germany. —Dave B.
Afternoon by Max Ritvo
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iv_oKqPwidA
American poet Max Ritvo‘s death of cancer at 25 was widely mourned on social media last week. As the New York Times noted, much of his work was devoted to chronicling his struggle with Ewing’s sarcoma, which he contracted at 16. The above video is one of a pair of animations by Nate Milton produced to accompany an NPR podcast, as the YouTube description explains:
Ritvo visited the Only Human podcast for the second time during what he called his “farewell tour”. His debut collection, “Four Reincarnations” will be published later this year. Listen to the episode here: http://www.wnyc.org/story/max-ritvo/
See also the other animation, “Poem to My Litter.”
