Visual Arts II: Sculpture, Film, Architecture & More

Not so obscure-- I have seen it broadcast on public television, more than once. I never read The Trial, though I did read Kafka's novel Coming To America (IIRC), which was not particularly good; of course, I've also read his short story, The Metamorphosis.

I was not especially impressed with the film, based on The Trial-- Orson Welles' shared view on the matter, notwithstanding. While Welles was, no doubt, intelligent, that does not equate with having impeccable artistic tastes, or a superceding opinion, on all matters concerning film which (as goes for art, in general) is a medium for which any judgements are unavoidably, to an significant extent, a reflection of personal tastes. Of course, though, because of his success in the medium, people will be likely to defer to his judgement. If, however, success is synonymous with credibility in such matters, one could merely cite the opinion of Steven Spielberg or Kirk Cameron, both of whom have had far more film success than Welles' ever did (as have many others), and who likely differ from Orson, in their opinions.

I regard Welles, as somewhat of a pretentious windbag. I would recommend to you, the 2008 film, Me and Orson Welles, except it seems, from what you've said, you have no way to view a movie, unless it is shown on TV. But keep an eye out, because television is where I had seen it.

 

What meaning did you take, if any, from the display? What concept do you think the artist had in mind?-- I will share my own interpretation, after you weigh-in.

How would you distinguish something like this, artistically speaking, from a fireworks display?

 

It looks, to me, like the artist wishes to evoke a biological image, of organic life-- I picture slugs and the like, on a rotting wooden board, damp and aged.

 

I can't say I agree with Welles' assessment of The Trial, either. Despite his praise of the film I don't think it holds a candle to Citizen Kane. Thanks for the trailer and your thoughts on The Graduate.

Unfortunately, I have to run, so I'll get back with you on the other posts later.

 

@Talon ,

I had to post this clip, I just stumbled upon-- it is of a film that I've never seen, but which I know is highly acclaimed, as being ahead of its time: Metropolis.

The twist here, which might interest @Steve N , is that the 1927 movie clip has been colorized. The wild thing, is that it could almost pass for a modern music video.









Compare this (relatively) more recent video.





Though obviously, one must also credit the more current video makers, for emulating older film footage.

 

In the immortal words of Marshall McLuhan, the medium is the message.

Unfortunately, I don't know what the parameters of the video installation competition were, however, what I can deduce is that we are dealing with a very narrow range of media in an installation format, so when I look at this piece, I view it within that specific context and leave my considerations and expectations of other art forms - film, painting, etc. - at the door.

Artistically speaking, I look at it in much the same way I look at an abstract painting or experimental film. On a broader level, I can look at all of them in the same way I can look at an individual flower and appreciate it for what it is, not what it isn't.

 

It's bizarre seeing an old B&W classic like Metropolis colorized. It's an interesting video and that scene is particularly well suited for what was done with it, but otherwise I have issues altering media like that. I would be no more interested in watching a full-length colorized version of Metropolis than I would be interested in watching a full-length colorized version of Casablanca, The Grapes of Wrath or Citizen Kane. Sacré bleu!

 

In stark contrast to the cold, sterile interior it is installed in....

 

I can't believe I forgot about this film - Koyaanisqatsi (1982). I first saw it when I was a poor starving art student many moons ago and I've hardly given it a passing thought since then. Ron Fricke's cinematography is absolutely fantastic:


Director: Godfrey Reggio
Cinematography: Ron Fricke
Music: Philip Glass

I gotta get this into my personal collection stat....

 

Here are two other films by Ron Fricke - Baraka (1992) and Samsara (2011) - that I haven't seen, but they appear to be just as good as Koyaanisqatsi, if not better:

 

Full length:



Sweet....

 

Last week I happened to stumble across this in the Arts section of The Wall Street Journal - the MOMA is currently running a fascinating exhibit, Eye Candy: The Coming of Color, on the colorization of early films prior to the development of Technicolor. Not only will film buffs find this interesting but folks like @Steve N who are into colorizing photos might find it interesting, too. Some of the films are quite old - early 20th Century - and use a variety of different coloring techniques The MOMA's web page covering Eye Candy discussing some of the techniques used in each film they are highlighting:

Presented in conjunction with the gallery exhibition Before Technicolor: Early Color on Film, this series documents the history of efforts to bring color to motion pictures. Highlighting the use of tinting, hand- and stencil-coloring, and the early experimental systems that predate Technicolor, the series offers restored versions of shorts, features, and avant-garde animation from the United States, France, and Britain, in 17 programs of works produced between 1894 and 1937.

https://www.moma.org/calendar/film/5599

Here are a few stills:


Le Tour du Monde d'un policier (1905)


The Loves of Cassanova (1927)


King of Jazz (1930)

 

While I think my feelings about colorizing old films, generally, match your own-- nevertheless, this exhibit is certainly very timely, to our discussions, in this and the other graphic arts thread. And, as someone who finds interesting, the mechanics behind visual imagery, there is an appeal to the idea of better understanding this technology, through examining its earlier, evolutionary forms.

 

The MOMA is showing Eye Candy along with another longer-running exhibition called Before Technicolor: Early Color on Film which showcases some very old silent films, such as The Infernal Cave (1905):



and The Voice of the Nightingale (1923):



More at the Before Technicolor web page:

https://www.moma.org/calendar/exhibitions/5603

 

With Eye Candy and Before Technicolor, we are obviously a LONG way from the computer generated imagery and color you see in today's films, which have gone completely overboard in some recent action films.

Just for fun, here's a more modest example of CGI from Ang Lee's wonderful film Life of Pi (2012), which won the Oscars for Best Director, Best Cinematography, Best Visual Effects and Best Original Score:

 

I went ahead and sprung for a DVD of director Tarsem Singh's The Fall (2006) and my only regret is that I haven't seen this relatively unknown gem on the large screen.

Nevertheless, as many cinema buffs indicated, Colin Watkinson's cinematography (and color) is marvelous, and I was surprised at how good and unpredictable the story/screenplay was. The film was shot at breathtaking locations and contains spectacular sweeping cinematography in the predominantly outdoor story/fantasy sequences combined with intimate interior scenes shot in the hospital where the two protagonists, Roy and Alexandria, are temporarily residing.



And there's a lot more great shots that didn't make that video.

Here's an interesting little blurb about the film from Wikipedia:

 

Recently, The Wall Street Journal published a photo of a restorer cleaning Michelangelo's David on its cover, and while I couldn't find it online I thought it might be fun to post a couple pictures that enable people to appreciate the scale of the sculpture:





To think that was once a massive block of marble...

 

I ran across an article in The Wall Street Journal recently about the current exhibition of Camille Claudel's sculpture at the Art Institute of Chicago, running through February 19. As you might you see in her work, Claudel was a student of Auguste Rodin, and she worked and modeled in his studio, ultimately becoming his muse and lover before their relationship turned sour. When looking at their work it's sometimes difficult to tell who was the master, Claudel or Rodin.

Here's a brief bio:

Camille Claudel: The Tumultuous Life and Incredible Work of a French Sculptor
https://mymodernmet.com/camille-claudel/

Here's a couple links to the exhibit at the Art Institute of Chicago, featuring her most famous work The Waltz (1889-1905), of which there are several versions:

Camille Claudel
Oct 7, 2023–Feb 19, 2024
https://www.artic.edu/exhibitions/9714/camille-claudel

Camille Claudel through Five Works
https://www.artic.edu/articles/1069/camille-claudel-through-five-works

Here are a few of my personal favorites, first The Little Lady, a marble sculpted in 1896:



Next, the Young Roman, a plaster of her brother that Claudel also painted to simulate the oxidized surfaces found on Ancient bronzes (c. 1881-86):



Finally (for this post, at least), a detail of her bronze Bust of Auguste Rodin (1888-89), where you can really appreciate her painterly Impressionist technique: