The MFA Integrated Media graduate showcase was eye-opening. All the work displayed was intriguing, but several stood out. Unique works that come to mind are the experimental films about Medellin, Colombia and the mother/daughter struggle with husband/father, in addition to the documentaries about taxi drivers, an aging man from Romania, and the playgrounds on NYC. These projects seemed especially thoughtful and engaging.
I liked each of these pieces because each director had their own signature. There was a resounding voice, and message, behind these creative presentations, and that's why they were embedded into my memory. I was able to learn a lot about the artists and their subjects. This made the presentation all the more exciting. I enjoyed the entire show from start to finish.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
Listening vs. Hearing: The Soundwalk
I spent a soundwalk, invented by musician and former professor R. Murray Shafer, in a familiar place. I did so thinking it’d be more interesting to try this exercise in my own neighborhood where I don't always give full attention to the sounds surrounding me.
In some ways, West 96th & Broadway through 98th Street seems like it’ll never change. I’ve lived there all my life, and although the neighborhood has changed aesthetically over the past 19 years, the keynotes, signals and soundmarks remain the same, namely: bustling traffic at virtually all hours, hustling passersby and strolling tourists speaking countless different languages, along with blaring construction. I’ve always enjoyed these sounds, but none were new.
Though I haven't discovered new sounds, I learned that the above mentioned sounds are simultaneously keynotes, signals and soundmarks. For example, the ever plentiful horn honking is a background sound (keynote), a foreground sound intended to attract attention to either the person who cut you off or to call the attention of a pretty girl strolling along the sidewalk (sound signal), and a sound identified consciously by anyone who’s familiar with the area (soundmark).
After partaking in this assignment, I realize I often pay special attention to sound. Some days I make a conscious decision to listen, and not simply hear, this din. On these days, I don’t wear my iPod and observe and listen in order to clearly see and hear everything around me; to do, rather than then be passive.
I like soundwalks, and have apparently been doing it a long time before ever knowing who Shafer is.
In some ways, West 96th & Broadway through 98th Street seems like it’ll never change. I’ve lived there all my life, and although the neighborhood has changed aesthetically over the past 19 years, the keynotes, signals and soundmarks remain the same, namely: bustling traffic at virtually all hours, hustling passersby and strolling tourists speaking countless different languages, along with blaring construction. I’ve always enjoyed these sounds, but none were new.
Though I haven't discovered new sounds, I learned that the above mentioned sounds are simultaneously keynotes, signals and soundmarks. For example, the ever plentiful horn honking is a background sound (keynote), a foreground sound intended to attract attention to either the person who cut you off or to call the attention of a pretty girl strolling along the sidewalk (sound signal), and a sound identified consciously by anyone who’s familiar with the area (soundmark).
After partaking in this assignment, I realize I often pay special attention to sound. Some days I make a conscious decision to listen, and not simply hear, this din. On these days, I don’t wear my iPod and observe and listen in order to clearly see and hear everything around me; to do, rather than then be passive.
I like soundwalks, and have apparently been doing it a long time before ever knowing who Shafer is.
Monday, May 4, 2009
JUST DO IT
http://img.ffffound.com/static-data/assets/6/c46a2948274bf35958a010c5b97188b99251a3b5_m.jpg
Media design, “design that carries information,” is everywhere. It’s in billboards, television advertisements, posters, websites, and everywhere else one can imagine. It’s so imbedded in our way of life, we forget to recognize it. Take, for example, that Nike check the entire world has been familiarized with for the past 30 odd years. This winged goddess of victory has millions across the world sporting the famed logo. Regardless of socio-economic class, race, ethnicity, religion, and age – many share in common “the check”. So, one of many reasons I chose this ad is because, through its aesthetics and use of a prevalent logo, it makes a bold statement.
The composition of the ad is very well balanced. Aside from the large red check, its use of color is muted. The typography is simple: black, bold and sans serif. All these traits are what lie in the attractiveness, despite the boy’s action or setting, in this picture. A sickly kind of gray, with subtle tints of yellows and greens, make up most of the color. The black boy and the black writing, separated by the large check that’s discreetly placed almost in the center of the two, make the picture pop. The significance of the piece is the boy’s acting out the message in the text, and the fact that, symbolically, both share the only two colors in the whole picture that match. Given the criticism from human rights organizations that Nike has faced since 1996 due to its continuous employment of children in sweatshops, it’s not surprising that the artist chose a boy who resembles one of many destitute Pakistani children who toiled in the Nike, Inc. Pakistan sweatshops.
“Just do it”, we’re urged day after day, time and time again. With such persistently persuasive salesmanship, I can’t blame the kid for listening.
Media design, “design that carries information,” is everywhere. It’s in billboards, television advertisements, posters, websites, and everywhere else one can imagine. It’s so imbedded in our way of life, we forget to recognize it. Take, for example, that Nike check the entire world has been familiarized with for the past 30 odd years. This winged goddess of victory has millions across the world sporting the famed logo. Regardless of socio-economic class, race, ethnicity, religion, and age – many share in common “the check”. So, one of many reasons I chose this ad is because, through its aesthetics and use of a prevalent logo, it makes a bold statement.
The composition of the ad is very well balanced. Aside from the large red check, its use of color is muted. The typography is simple: black, bold and sans serif. All these traits are what lie in the attractiveness, despite the boy’s action or setting, in this picture. A sickly kind of gray, with subtle tints of yellows and greens, make up most of the color. The black boy and the black writing, separated by the large check that’s discreetly placed almost in the center of the two, make the picture pop. The significance of the piece is the boy’s acting out the message in the text, and the fact that, symbolically, both share the only two colors in the whole picture that match. Given the criticism from human rights organizations that Nike has faced since 1996 due to its continuous employment of children in sweatshops, it’s not surprising that the artist chose a boy who resembles one of many destitute Pakistani children who toiled in the Nike, Inc. Pakistan sweatshops.
“Just do it”, we’re urged day after day, time and time again. With such persistently persuasive salesmanship, I can’t blame the kid for listening.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Pasolini's Roma
Mama Roma, directed by Pier Paolo Pasolini, is an acclaimed Italian neorealist film that employs strong cinematographic techniques to tell its story. Tonino Delli Colli, the cinematographer, uses framing, lighting, and camera lenses and movements in a magnetic way that draws one into the film. Pasolini’s vision and direction of Mama Roma, combined with Colli’s cinematographic expertise, renders a bold and unique work that triumphantly stands apart, but on the same level as, the many great works created by such names as Federico Fellini, Vittorio DeSica, Roberto Rossellini, and Luchino Visconti.
What separates this Pasolini film from others made by the aforementioned directors is Pasolini’s ability to mesh Italian neorealism with an almost French New Wave touch. This stylistic mesh is especially evident in the scenes when Mama Roma, played by ever captivating Anna Magnani, is walking through her former prostitute haunt in Rome. In these tracking shots, a method typical of the French New Wave, Magnani walks down the street and toward the camera, as it tracks backward with her. The background that is Rome at night is shrilly dark and dreary. Voices and footsteps echo resoundingly and, although a black and white movie, Pasolini emphasizes the world in this scene by making everything a slightly sharper black and white, with sparse grays. The only illumination on the street and its characters is from the seeming thousands of streets lights. There is an endless, almost abyss like, feeling to these images, undoubtedly due to mise-en-scène and use of a wide-angle lens. All of it rings true to the film’s voice. Still, it’s difficult to clearly articulate such mood. Furthermore, the composition is not only startling because of its interminable reverie appearance, but also because these shots are preceded with day shots, creating a dramatic sequential juxtaposition. Nonetheless, the startlingly drastic change, in addition to the overall look of the shot, creates a mysterious and exciting mood that is characteristic of Pasolini.
“Jarring” is synonymous with “Pasolini”. He loves to stir the audience with what he puts on screen, but he does so with meaning. There are no arbitrary actions simply for the love of shock factor, and for this reason much can be learned from Pasolini’s technique. Throughout Mama Roma, he stays true to each persona, even that of the Italy he depicts. I wholly believe in this film from start to finish, just as I did with Amarcord, Ladri di biciclette, Roma, città aperta, and The Damned.
What separates this Pasolini film from others made by the aforementioned directors is Pasolini’s ability to mesh Italian neorealism with an almost French New Wave touch. This stylistic mesh is especially evident in the scenes when Mama Roma, played by ever captivating Anna Magnani, is walking through her former prostitute haunt in Rome. In these tracking shots, a method typical of the French New Wave, Magnani walks down the street and toward the camera, as it tracks backward with her. The background that is Rome at night is shrilly dark and dreary. Voices and footsteps echo resoundingly and, although a black and white movie, Pasolini emphasizes the world in this scene by making everything a slightly sharper black and white, with sparse grays. The only illumination on the street and its characters is from the seeming thousands of streets lights. There is an endless, almost abyss like, feeling to these images, undoubtedly due to mise-en-scène and use of a wide-angle lens. All of it rings true to the film’s voice. Still, it’s difficult to clearly articulate such mood. Furthermore, the composition is not only startling because of its interminable reverie appearance, but also because these shots are preceded with day shots, creating a dramatic sequential juxtaposition. Nonetheless, the startlingly drastic change, in addition to the overall look of the shot, creates a mysterious and exciting mood that is characteristic of Pasolini.
“Jarring” is synonymous with “Pasolini”. He loves to stir the audience with what he puts on screen, but he does so with meaning. There are no arbitrary actions simply for the love of shock factor, and for this reason much can be learned from Pasolini’s technique. Throughout Mama Roma, he stays true to each persona, even that of the Italy he depicts. I wholly believe in this film from start to finish, just as I did with Amarcord, Ladri di biciclette, Roma, città aperta, and The Damned.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Last Thursday I took a trip to the Museum of the Moving Image. What separates this museum from most is its interactive quality. Some displays have the “look, but don’t touch” policy, but others allow hands on experience. I pressed a button and peered into a remake of Thomas Edison’s kinetoscope. Eugene Sandow was flexing his muscles for me. Other early film innovations I participated in were the thaumatrope, zoetrope, praxinoscope, and mutoscope. The mutoscope was best. Similar in cumbersome size to the kinetoscope, it’s like a giant flipbook machine. Turning the crank on the side of it, a set of spinning photographs, each slightly different from the next, sit on a drum inside the cabinet and give the impression of motion. Cranking away, a lunar capsule landed in the eye of a surprised moon. It was the noted scene from Georges Méliès’ Le Voyage Dans la Lune (A Trip to the Moon), 1902.
My giddy tour guide ushered us through the museum. While pointing out archaic cameras, microphones, and countless other equipment, he gave a brief history of each device’s doings, successes and failures. Between his explanations and my par takings, I discovered how novel this technology was in its time. I had fun with each, regardless that it’s no longer new technology, and realized how exciting this was during its grand premiere.
All aforementioned equipment, and countless more, pioneered media production and made it what it is today. Good thing, too. I much prefer a feature length ninety-minute story, uncranked, to a feature length fifteen-second scene, cranked. Can you imagine cranking your way through something like Tikhiy Don?
My giddy tour guide ushered us through the museum. While pointing out archaic cameras, microphones, and countless other equipment, he gave a brief history of each device’s doings, successes and failures. Between his explanations and my par takings, I discovered how novel this technology was in its time. I had fun with each, regardless that it’s no longer new technology, and realized how exciting this was during its grand premiere.
All aforementioned equipment, and countless more, pioneered media production and made it what it is today. Good thing, too. I much prefer a feature length ninety-minute story, uncranked, to a feature length fifteen-second scene, cranked. Can you imagine cranking your way through something like Tikhiy Don?
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
The Welcome
Hey! Serendipity is my first blog, created for class, where I'm to "write weekly responses to class readings, screenings, trips and presentations." I realize that at first reading this may sound stale. I pulled it directly from my syllabus.
My name is Wanjira and I'm a sophomore level film major. This site is designed for my Media & Film in a Digital Age class. My professors think blogging is a good way for me to keep a diary, so to speak, about the aforementioned. The sweet thing about having a blog is it's convenient for them, and whoever else cares, to read it and see my responses. I'll try my best to make my entries interesting by employing my charisma and wit into my writings. Naturally, assuming I have any. Here goes...
My name is Wanjira and I'm a sophomore level film major. This site is designed for my Media & Film in a Digital Age class. My professors think blogging is a good way for me to keep a diary, so to speak, about the aforementioned. The sweet thing about having a blog is it's convenient for them, and whoever else cares, to read it and see my responses. I'll try my best to make my entries interesting by employing my charisma and wit into my writings. Naturally, assuming I have any. Here goes...
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