ONE
The "Kino-Eye" of Dziga Vertov
This is a frame grab from the last shot of Russian experimental filmmaker Dziga Verov’s 1929 homage to the cinematographer, Man with a Camera. The film is a metaphor for the cinematographer as voyeur and documenter of the world at large, the Kino-Eye, the artist who observes life’s passing parade and transforms it through his alchemy into entertainment.
When I began film studies at USC, it was not my intention to become a cameraman, an editor, a director, or any of the hands-on jobs of movies’ creators. My cinematic heroes would not have been Gregg Toland, Sam O’Steen or David Lean—but Andre Bazin, French film theorist and scholar, a veritable godfather to the New Wave. Bazin died at age forty on November 11, 1958, the day after Francois Truffaut began filming The 400 Blows. Truffaut dedicated the film to him.
Film Writer Andre Bazin.
I first learned Bazin’s name while watching The 400 Blows. An ever-growing interest in film history led me to read the dominant scholarly film magazine of the time, Film Quarterly, where I found Bazin’s ideas discussed endlessly. After exploring his sometimes arcane theories in whatever English translations were available, I became intoxicated with art (foreign) cinema. Here is one of Bazin’s memorable quotes:
The fantastic in the cinema is possible only because of the irresistible realism of the photographic image. It is the image that can bring us face to face with the unreal that can introduce the unreal into the world of the visible.
Such a seeming linguistic paradox is stock in trade of Bazin’s writing style. (After posting this essay I received a note from my friend the photographer Raymond Cauchetier, the subject of a multi-part essay I wrote some months ago. Raymond has spent much of the past several decades photographing the sculptures of Romanesque churches. He informed me that Bazin had all but given up film writing near the end of his short life– and had dedicated himself to a film proposal on the Romanesque churches of Saintoge. The article was published in Cahiers du Cinema. I will soon be writing of this period of Cauchetier’s work.)
When, several years later I entered film school it was with the intention to write about film, not as a film reviewer, a mere regurgitator of plotlines and performances, but as someone who would study film images and “critique” them. I aspired to be for an embryonic American New Wave what Bazin had been for the French (ah, such youthful presumptions). Well, not only were Pauline Kael, Andrew Sarris, and Manny Farber already harvesting that not yet ripe fruit, but when I took one of the entry level film courses it changed my life: Introduction to Cinematography. That’s when my fanciful notions of “cinema” ran smack up against the hard work of actually creating images. I soon found out how much more challenging yet absorbing it is to make images rather than write about them.
TWO
A little more than a year ago Martha Winterhalter, publisher of American Cinematographer magazine asked me if I would help provide content for the ASC website by writing a blog. I had written for AC magazine in the past, as well as for other publications, but I had never considered writing to a schedule—that it would be nothing but an onerous task. But Martha agreed to let me write about whatever I wanted to in the arts—not just cinematography, not even just film, but whatever topic pulled my sometimes eclectic musings into focus.
Thus, John’s Bailiwick was begun on September 19 of last year; it was so dubbed by Martha and AC editor Stephen Pizzello. So far, I have made about 75 entries. You can access any of them by clicking “All Posts by Date,” just above my thumbnail photo:
John Bailey’s Bailiwick—All Posts by Date link
Recently, I looked back at part of the first posting, a declaration of intent. Here is what I first wrote:
So, while this modest blog will not presume to define any statement of principles or be a platform for semi-emetic jeremiads about how the industry is going to hell in a hand basket, I do hope to discuss some of the issues that face us all as filmmakers as an ever accelerating cycle of development, praxis, and obsolescence nudges at our backs with the force of a runaway SUV.
What I did not realize at the time was just how far this personal reach would go, especially into photojournalism, an abiding interest. Nor did I have then any inkling of what crucial issues for cinematography would emerge with 3-D feature films and the emergence of DSLRs for movies. And it has been an amazingly rich year for photography exhibitions, none as emotionally moving as the current one at the Getty Museum, Engaged Observers, the subject of a recent essay.
If you have started only recently to read these weekly essays or if there are some you have missed that may be of interest, I am taking the next two weeks to highlight some that have been more popular, as well as ones that have permitted me to focus the passion I have for certain artists. I will list these articles only by their dates of appearance, and not by any personal predilection. There will be a short introduction to each, with the link to the full essay, and with a photo or a video embedded.
THREE
1. (September, 16) Director Roy Andersson’s work has fascinated me since I saw Songs from the Second Floor at an AMPAS screening at the Goldwyn Theater. It was Sweden’s official entry for Oscar consideration in 2000. Just this last fall I was able to meet and interview Andersson at a MOMA retrospective of his work.
“The Swedish Comedian An Oxymoron” post link
2. (September 23) An impromptu concert by famed violinist Joshua Bell in a Washington, D.C. subway station was the subject of a thoughtful article in the Washington Post, and on NPR, about how our manic rush to and fro makes us often immune to beauty around us. Journalist Gene Weingarten wrote the story behind the story. The essay also includes a link to his complete article.
3. (October 2) Steve McCurry, famous for his photograph of the Afghan girl with green eyes that first appeared in National Geographic magazine discussed the demise of Kodachrome. Several months ago, he made national news again as his was the last roll of Kodachome to be processed.
“Product Recall: Kodachrome Fades” post link
NPR.org “Exposed: The Last Roll Of Kodachrome” article link
4. (October 9) Irving Penn, legendary photojournlist and fashion photographer, died at age 92, a few days before this essay appeared about an exhibition of early work, Small Trades, at the Getty Museum.
Irving Penn, “Lalibu Warrior, New Guinea.”
5. (October 23) An exhibition of recent acquisitions by New York City’s Morgan Library prompted me to write about the vulnerability of our paper history in the great libraries and archives of the world. It suggests that these same issues are applicable to our film and video history as we move deeper and deeper into digital acquisition and storage systems.
“Slow Fires and the Morgan Library” post link
The Long Room, Library, University of Dublin.
6. (November 2 and 5) A fall visit that I made to the toxic and abandoned mining town of Picher, Oklahoma prompted a two part (with a later third one) examination of the history of mining in a small community, and of the human cost of our indifference to the environmental consequences.
“Orval Ray Last Man Standing in Toxic Town—Part One” post link
“Hoppy” Ray’s Mining Museum, Picher, Oklahoma.
7. (November 9 and 12) An exhibition at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art of Johannes Vermeer’s paintings, highlighting a loan of The Milkmaid from the Rijksmuseum, gave me an opportunity to examine in detail The Sphinx of Delft in a two part essay.
“The Sphinx of Delft—Part One” post link
Johannes Vermeer, “The Milkmaid.”
8. (Nov.30) Roots singer Iris DeMent has long had an avid base of knowing admirers; but she continues to elude pop mainstream country/western fans. Every musician in Nashville, to whom I mentioned her while we were filming Country Strong last winter, knew and loved her music. The essay I wrote about her elicited some of the most heartfelt response of anything I have done. She continues (according to her posted schedule) to make appearances at smaller venues around the country, even as fans await a long anticipated new CD.
“Higher Ground—Iris Dement’s Journey to Self” post link
(Next week, I will continue this review of a year’s essays with a look at the four part study of Karl Struss, who began a career in photography as the last of Stieglitz’ Photo-Secessionists. After WWI he moved to Hollywood where he became along with Charles Rosher the recipient of the first ever Oscar for cinematography for Murnau’s Sunrise. In the fifth decade of his career Struss went to Italy to photograph films in 3-D.)
There will also be a look back at Frank Hurley’s Endurance photography, Manny Farber’s film criticism, Elliott Carter’s 101st birthday, Monet’s Haystack paintings at the Art Institute of Chicago— and more.
Dear John ,
Congratulations for this first year of wonderful essays .
I’ve discovered several artists through them and you’ve also reminded me of others that are permanent references .
I can imagine how hard it must be to write against the schedule but I just can say : Keep on the hard work . Your readers benefit from your knowledge . Thank you from your generosity sharing it with all of us . Take care .
Dear John,
This is a wonderful way to re-introduce the Bailiwick this fall to those who will be discovering it for the first time. For all of us who regularly love to spend time with your thoughts and discoveries this is like having a virtual contact sheet. We can refocus our feelings about the artists you’ve done so much to highlight and reflect anew on the issues you have shared.
That last frame grab from Man with a Movie Camera reminded me of the unforgettable image that Bunuel crafted of slicing an eye open during the beginning of Un Chien Andalou. In that film he created a fantastical experience where seeing as believing was no longer relevant to our understanding. Whether we act as keen observers or alchemists turning dreams into entertainment there is always a deep need to create transgressive imagery. I am glad you included Andre Bazin’s quote about the photographic image. It is a perfect and lasting summation of how cinema fulfills our need to bear witness in a world that continues to reveal new secrets and mysteries about the workings of our inner lives.
It is so important that you always share with us where and how you found a path to your life in film. Each of our journeys to the film world can seem so vastly different but it is very reassuring when we hear about the moments we share in common. A love and fascination for film history brought me to discover, collect and share with people anything I had about foreign and essential cinema. Before I ever had access to the film themselves I use to spend hours tracking down rare books on film at my university’s library in Tulsa. It was there that I first found Michael Powell’s A LIFE IN MOVIES and MILLION DOLLAR MOVIE and Satyajit Ray’s collection OUR FILMS, THEIR FILMS. Those especially gave me direction and guidance to everything that it would take to have a career in film. It was intoxicating and since I couldn’t find those books elsewhere at the time I contemplated lifting them from the university library. After a while I decided not to because it would have deprived other students of cinema from discovering those heartfelt pages written by Powell and Ray.
I hope you always find ways to create images that will speak directly to people and resonate long afterwards through their lives. Your photojournalism essays are some of the strongest sections of the Bailiwick because they deal head-on with artists and their worlds. There is an immediacy to reading about their process in creating their works.
I have shared your review of these eight essays with film classes here and other colleagues who are part of the arts scene in Abu Dhabi. I must say that the Karl Struss and Rossellini essays were some of my favorites and worth reading again and again. The look at Picher, Oklahoma took me back to when I had visited the place in 2005 and 2006. I know that many people from my university community in Tulsa appreciated each of the individuals parts you dedicated to shining a light on the people of that community.
I am so grateful that you always bring your keen observation and heartfelt concern to every passage you create within the Bailiwick. They are a much needed encouragement to beautiful lives and artists that we might otherwise never know. Peace be to you.
Thank You, Sir, for an extremely enjoyable and educational year. To use the word “blog” in reference to Your work here seems demeaning. Please convey my gratitude to Martha Winterhalter, too.
I look forward to every publication for another year. Hopefully You do not judge the readership by the quantity of replies, many times I refrian from posting least i sully Your pages with small talk.
Dear John Bailey,
I discovered the french theorist, Andre Bazin, when I was told to read “What is cinema?” (truly an essential book to anyone who is taking their first steps in the study of the seventh art). More than the content of the book, getting to know Bazin led to me to the finding of the other two edges of the triad behind the original author “cinema theory”, respectively Alexandre Astruc and François Truffaut.
The first, Astruc, wrote the essay “Caméra-Stylo”, in 1948, where he developed the concept of the Camera-Pen, a vision of a cinema free of the concrete restrains of the narrative structure, where images would become a form of creation as flexible and subtle as written/spoken language itself. This powerful notion of a new way of seeing/making cinema eventually led to François Truffaut manifesto “Une certaine tendence du cinéma français”, published in the Cahiers du Cinéma in 1954, where the apology of the director as a screenwriter, as an author, gained definite strength and visibility.
“The film of tomorrow appears to me as even more personal than an individual and autobiographical novel, like a confession, or a diary. (…) The film of tomorrow will be an act of love. (…) The film of tomorrow will not be directed by civil servants of the camera, but by artists for whom shooting a film constitutes a wonderful and thrilling adventure.”
François Truffaut in “Une certaine tendance du cinema français”
The poetic vision of Truffaut struck me like a thunder. To a personal, and great friend of mine, it became the clear reason to make cinema. To me, it was also crystal clear, I couldn´t express myself, neither as a scriptwriter, nor as a director, but I could allow others to have a proper visualization of their diary. I could help materialize their act of love. I wanted to be a cinematographer.