For my next shoot I took inspiration from photographer Julian Bittencourt and his series In a Window of Prestes Maia 911 Building, which documents the inhabitants of a squatted building in Sao Paulo, Brazil. I had the idea of trying a shoot which had a more 'exotic' feel, maybe suggesting a location in a warmer climate. My friend who agreed to model for me is Brazilian and I discussed ways of hinting at his hometown in the picture. I wanted to see if I could spread the theme of my project globally, to pose a question which affects people all over the world, not just cities such as London.
In hindsight I don't find this shoot that successful, and maybe this is because the idea was becoming diluted. I am again slipping into a general view of people living around the world. I will stick to more focused narrative and one location.
Looking through my early sketches for this project, I came across one I made for a photograph to be taken from above, of an unusually small room with a figure lying on a bed within, looking in the direction of a window. The scale of the room would mean that the bed took up most of the space, with very little extra floor space available. There would be a narrative, in that the person, a woman, would be on the phone, or reading, or staring whistfully out of her window. I initially envisaged it being part of the story of my film, in which a man isolates himself but still attempts to have some sort of relationship, or even love affair using technology. However looking at it now, out of context, I am drawn to the potential stillness of the image, and it's unconventional and slightly voyeuristic point of view. It also has that 'doll's house' element which I picked up on earlier with the example of Wes Anderson's explicit breaking down of the 'fourth wall'.
I followed up this idea and made a set in my friend's workshop (he is a carpenter) using mostly recycled materials and freestanding wall units which he makes as part of his business. For the decor and props I intentionally chose quite old items and a colour scheme that would not be specific to any place. I found books, knick-knacks, and old phone, and picture frames in my grandmother's garage.
Contact sheets for my 'small room' shoot
I took the photos on film, on my medium-format Bronica. I like shooting on film partly for the slowness and careful consideration of each shot but also for its aesthetic quality. Another reason, is that ultimately I would like to try experimenting with an installation idea whereby I can utilise positive (slide) film, however for now I am simply making some test shoots to develop my idea further.
Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window really utilises and
emphasises film and photography’s capacity for voyeurism. It can be argued that
the mediums are natural instruments for voyeurism and our desire for
observation at a safe distance.
Gail Albert Halaban and Georgio Barrera take this
concept to an almost literal conclusion by photographic scenes where we can see
directly through people’s windows and into their homes.
With Charles, Matton’s work, we are shown places which are
made as small-scale models, but with an unnerving sense of detail and realism
(aided by the fact that there are no people present. The fact that the rooms
are empty adds to their mystery. Matton’s motivation for making and
photographing his model spaces was to bear witness to “what seems”. They would
‘hold a mirror up to the real’. It is a luminal quality which I find
fascinating. Like Hitchcock’s apartments in Rear Window (they were not real but
a huge purpose-built set), the artist has total control in creating a space for
which they can create their own ‘before’, ‘after’, as well as running
narrative.
Director Wes Anderson is known for creating entire fictional
worlds in which the stories of his films can play out. His most recent, The
Grand Budapest Hotel, skips through time and shows the hotel of the title as it
looks in two separate eras. Anderson took total control of everything, from
sets, to costumes, to the graphic design on cake boxes. All normal as far as
films go, but in his case the designs are fabricated entirely for the story.
A
great use of set design is in his film ‘The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou’ where
an entire boat is constructed without ‘the fourth wall’ so the camera can glide
between cabins and sections, showing us where everything is located, as you
would expect in an architectural cross-section. Only here the scene is played
out live, with characters on the boat going about their business. It is a
technique most commonly seen in comic books, or cartoons, and suits the quirky
‘Boy’s Own Adventure’ style of narrative.
Having written stories myself, I have always enjoyed creating photographic worlds which are entirely fabricated, but retain some semblance of reality. I like the ideas of 'timeless' places as well as locations which are not determined, but take as their inspiration various locations I have either been to, read about, watched in films, or even dreamed about.
My project will use this sense of an undetermined place and time, as I am continuing on the idea of making a social comment through a fictional place, like all good science fiction.
A scene from Alfred Hitchcock's Rear Window (1954)
Part of Charles Matton's 'Enclosures' series. A perfect scale model.
A model room, seen in it's enclosed box. (Charles Matton)
The boat scene from Wes Anderson's 'The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou' (2004)
Rear Window (1954) Directed by Alfred Hitchcock. [Film]. USA: Paramount Pictures.
The life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (2004) Directed by Wes Anderson [Film]. USA: Touchstone Pictures.
Matton,
S. and Virilio, P. (2011) Charles
Matton:Enclosures. Paris:Flammarion.
“Living in the box is an instance of sanity. It is crazy, but only crazy to the extent that the housing market is crazy. I think it’s a smart solution to the situation that happens to work for me and may work for other people.” I read about the story of Peter Berkowitz, the 25 year-old freelance illustrator who took to living in a custom-made box in the living room of an apartment in San Francisco in order to save money. He paid $400 a month rent, but was forced to 'move out' of his box due to health and safety regulations.
He makes a detailed costing of his unorthodox way of living on his website.
Berkowitz sites Japanese capsule hotels as an influence and this is something which originally informed my idea of an enclosed living space for my 'isolated man' film.
"If some problems can not be avoided, make them comfortable. Intervention that, parodically, speaks about people forced to live in extreme conditions, even coming to live in manholes. An example of inspiration is Bucharest, where more than 600 people live underground, in the sewers."
Biancoshock
Borderlife is a series of outdoor installation works by artist Biancoshosck. They are reappropriated manholes made to look like inhabitated spaces. The scale and detail make the work appear bizarre, but there is a serious message behind the works, drawing attention to living conditions, particularly the issue of hundreds of people living in the sewers of Bucharest.
These are sketches for a narrative which I would like to create in the form of a short film.
As I've worked on my project, I have found myself feeling that it is running away from me a little, and so I wish to reign it in by keeping the subject matter more personal and more focused. My idea of creating multiple dwellings and creating a vast cityscape started to feel a little overwhelming and I became worried that it was more of great sociological study and less concerned about people as individuals.
Reflecting on my practice and my working methods, I realised that I become more enthusiastic about personal stories, and about the plight of individuals. I am still intent on investigating the subject of urban living of the future, but I prefer to focus it through small, particular situations and events.
This is why my project has changed direction. Looking back on my notes has led me to writing a script for a short film. It is about a man who increasingly isolates himself from the world into ever decreasing spaces, while still attempting to live a normal life and have a relationship. The sketches and scenario are below.
Short Film ECU of an electric screwdriver screwing into a wall. CU of man’s face as he concentrates, finishes, and steps back. A light from above shines on his face and he looks up. CU from below looking up of a small square skylight. We can see the moon. Snow begins to fall. MS. The man stands in a tiny room which becomes darker as the snow settles on the skylight above, blocking the only source of light. He immediately reaches down to a lamp and turns it on, then sits down in a small armchair wedged in the corner of the room. He picks up a book from a table by his arm and begins to read. Camera pans across and around room 360degrees, revealing possessions on tables/shelves: books, crockery, bedlinen, radio, pictures, writing materials etc. We notice that the only door has been permanently boarded up. CU of the bulb in the lamp fizzing out. CU of man’s face, very dimly lit by whatever moonlight can still make it through the skylight. Fade out. Fade in. CU of man’s face, lit by warm light. He moves towards camera and out of focus. MS through doorway of apartment. Man moves past, along corridor. He is sitting in a large box on wheels with only his head visible from the top. He moves out of shot. There is the sound of electric wheels and cogs turning. He reappears, and waits in kitchen doorway looking in. CU of toaster. ECU of man’s hand, inside box, moving a switch. CU of toast popping out of the toaster. CU of the man smiling. His eyes look across. CU of the hob, a coffee pot on one of the electric rings. Camera pans across to the knob, which turns by itself. Cut to CU of man’s face looking straight on as he munches (presumably toast). He finishes, and his eyes look sideways. A woman’s hand, holding a napkin, appears and dabs his chin. CU of his hand inside the box as he flicks some other switches. Ms. We can see that the woman’s hand is in fact a fake hand, attached to retractable device, like that of a shaving mirror but much longer, which moves the hand back into a hole in the wall, which is then covered by a painting. Fade to black. Fade in. LS of a park. The man, still in his box with wheels, moves clumsily down a path. MS. Man facing camera. He stops as he sees something. CU of a woman looking at him, her head protruding from a similar box. MS. We see the whole of the box the woman is in. CU of the man’s face. He looks a little embarrassed, nervous. He looks as if he is about to smile. Cut to black. Fade in. CU. Man’s face. He is lying down. Shot from above. He is on some kind of bed but there is a wall directly on either side. He turns his head to one side. The wall he faces has a round attachment with holes and looks a bit like a speaker. He hesitates. ECU. He whispers ‘I love you’. We don’t hear him, but we can read his lips clearly. CU. Camera shooting down from above pans across ‘through’ the wall and along wires and cables, sparks, switches, electrical noises etc into darkness. It then fades into a ‘speaker’ in another wall. CU of speaker. A robotic voice says ‘I love you’. The camera pulls out to reveal the woman, also lying down in a tiny space. She turns her head away from the speaker and smiles. MS (from above) The man lying in the narrow confined space. He finishes eating something, staring ahead absent-mindedly. He picks up a glass of water next to him. MS from the side. We realise the space he is in is like a tunnel. He moves his head up as much as he can to take a sip of water. Puts it down. Switches off the light. He then shuffles himself along in the direction of his feet until his whole body slides downwards into another equally confined space. Here he reaches for a blanket, all the time remaining lying down, and covers himself, ready to sleep. He moves himself a little to get comfortable, before reaching for a cord and turning off the light. Black. The End.
I am a great admirer of Luis Bunuel’s work, and this is one
of my favourite films.
The film is about a dinner party set in a grand house where,
after their meal, the elegant and sophisticated guests are, for no explicable
reason unable to leave the drawing room.
The logic of the story decrees that nothing physical or
psychological is keeping each guest from simply leaving the room. They are just
unable to leave, and that is that.
Gradually, the guests become dishevelled, both in their
physical appearance and their manners, until we are witness to their basest
instincts and unrefined characters.
What I like about Bunuel’s films, in particular this one and
two subsequent ones Belle de Jour and The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, is
his perfection in creating surreal happenings in otherwise normal
circumstances. Of course it can be argued that surrealism, like dream logic,
only works when it has a basis in reality. Bunuel’s recurring themes: class,
society, religion, sex, work perfectly in his surrealist domain because they are exactly the types of
subjects which prey on people’s psyche. They are subjects which propel people
to act in the way they do, as well as to confound both their conscious and
subconscious.
The Exterminating Angel works well for me because we are
presented with how people behave in a situation over which they have no power.
We scratch under the surface, and we force people together, not unlike JG
Ballard’s High Rise, for such a time until they are no longer able to continue
with their pretences, and their human survival instinct comes to the fore.
The ‘deadpan absurdity’ Bunuel does so well is what I want
to use in my work in order to get my message across. I feel it can bring out
both the sadness and humour from the subject of isolation and modern-day
living.
El ángel exterminador (The Exterminating Angel) (1962) Directed by Luis Bunuel [Film]. Mexico: Producciones Gustavo Alatriste
“The ones who are a real danger are the self-contained types
like you.”
Taking this quote from the film ‘High Rise’ has made me
think more about my project and the direction I would like to go in. My
fascination with tower blocks, from my early childhood in Warsaw to seeing them
looming over horizons wherever I am in London, made ‘High Rise’ seem like the
perfect film to push further my ideas.
However over the past few weeks, while researching the
subject, I have felt as if I am going too far down the wrong path. Despite my
interest in huge buildings, living conditions, communist-era architecture and
so on, I have come to the realisation that I enjoy my work more when it is
focused more on the individual. My idea of a future London with tower blocks
ringed around the perimeter was meant to show how individuals would live,
however I feel the scale of the idea makes these observations less effective,
not so personal.
As a result I have taken the step of altering my idea and
focus on one person. It will still be a commentary on how people live, and will
still be a ‘science fiction’ piece, however I am keen to infuse it with a sense
of deadpan absurdity, not unlike the work of Luis Bunuel.
I have taken the concept of a ‘self-contained’ person and am
revisiting an idea I had a while ago about a man increasingly cutting himself
off from the world but still attempting to live a normal life. It was initially
a comment on social media, but having taken the advice of one of my tutors and
read Jean Baudrillard essay, ‘The Ecstasy of Communication’, I am enthusiastic
about making it into a piece on the tension between how we live and how we
would like to live.
Notes on a narrative of a man who isolates himself
Scene from Luis Bunuel's 'Exterminating Angel', a film where
a group of people are unable to leave the drawing room of a house,
for no apparent reason.
El ángel exterminador (The Exterminating Angel) (1962) Directed by Luis Bunuel [Film]. Mexico: Producciones Gustavo Alatriste
