What does the silver screen screen? It screens me from the world it holds – that is, makes me invisible. And it screens that world from me – that is, screens its existence from me.
Stanley Cavell, The World Viewed
The Eleventh Film
The first public film screening organised by Auguste and Louis Lumière took place on December 28th 1895 at the Salon Indien du Grand Café in Paris. Eleven short films were on the bill that night. Each film was 17 meters long, which, when hand cranked through a projector, ran approximately 50 seconds. Only ten films are listed for posterity.
- La Sortie de L’Usine Lumière à Lyon (Workers Leaving the Lumière Factory ) (46 seconds)
- Le Jardinier (L’Arroseur Arrosé) (The Gardener, or The Sprinkler Sprinkled) (49 seconds)
- Le Débarquement du Congrès de Photographie à Lyon (The Disembarkment of the Congress of Photographers in Lyon) (48 seconds)
- La Voltige (Horse Trick Riders) (46 seconds)
- La Pêche aux poissons rouges (Fishing for Goldfish) (42 seconds)
- Les Forgerons (Blacksmiths) (49 seconds)
- Repas de bébé (Baby’s Breakfast) (41 seconds)
- Le Saut à la couverture (Jumping onto the Blanket) (41 seconds)
- La Places des Cordeliers à Lyon (Cordeliers Square in Lyon) (44 seconds)
- La Mer (Baignade en mer) (The Sea/Bathing in the Sea) (38 seconds)
The eleventh film was called The View of Pazuzu returning to the World – a desert scene, with a half-buried broken statue and the wind blowing. It ran for only one second and was not noticed by the audience.
At the very moment that cinema was born the world’s fate was sealed and so the birth of one thing brought about the death of another.
With a new portal open, the passage from Beyond becomes possible once more.
Here’s the first in a new series of short posts shared on my YouTube channel and elsewhere. VIRO has got to number 89 in the Amazon charts and I wanted to say thank you very much to everyone who has helped to get the book up the charts. Of course, this is the point at which there is an obligatory series of words pointing you towards a series of links where, should you care to, you could purchase untold copies of VIRO. If that is how you feeling towards the whole project then please feel free to click the image below.
Have a lovely day.
Thank you very much
Following on from yesterday’s post I thought you would all like to see another film in the new series created by the rebel|robot|mcs (note the new spelling). This is the video to accompany their second track in the SIXTEEN series two16 inspired, once again, by the sounds made by analogue film paraphernalia. This particular film really gets to the heart of the project and I think promises much more to come.
For those of you worried that those rhythm-crafty beatsketeers DJ Slo-Mo, Nuclear Boy and R-Man (better known as Rebel Robot MCs) had fallen by the way the wayside I am thrilled to share this tweet I came across this afternoon. Inspired by ‘the noises made by analogue film paraphernalia’ the track one16 and the video that accompanies it makes me think that the Rebel Robot MCs are maturing as a collective. Who knows where this new direction will lead them?
‘The implied presence of the rest of the world, and its explicit rejection, are as essential in the experience of a photograph as what it explicitly presents. A camera is an opening in a box: that is the best emblem of the fact that a camera holding on an object is holding the rest of the world away.’
Stanley Cavell, The World Viewed: Reflections on the Ontology of Film, Enlarged Edition (Harvard University Press, 1971, 1974, 1979), p. 24
‘dose it sound like the hornets are saying asshole to any one?’
Sydney Rosales quoted on Kage848, 7 Days to Die Alpha 11 Husband & Wife Multiplayer/ Let’s Play (S-9) – Ep. 13 – ‘Unlucky Thirteen, YouTube, accessed 28-4-2015
In my other life I am rapidly approaching the start of the semester (again) and so my thoughts turn once more to what I will be doing in my classroom. In place of the book that I never started to follow the first book that I did manage to complete – details of which can be found here and here – I have been (spasmodically) running a blog called From Robin Wood to Robin Askwith. Here is where I have been compiling, dumping or indeed simply forgetting about things that (may) relate to my research interests. In many ways this blog still exists simply to taunt me by reminding me of where I am and where I thought I would be all those years ago as I started my undergraduate degree at the University of Kent. Nevertheless, I do occasionally return to the blog to see how it is getting on (almost) without me.
While I was there this morning I found this; a feature-length tribute to one of the heroes of the Golden Age of British Wrestling, Mick McManus. If you are wondering who I am talking about then you really should click here.
This tribute probably serves several functions, most notably as a simple cinematic exploration of duration and endurance. The film was inspired by a class discussion on what makes films unwatchable. I certainly think that this film goes a long way to answering this question.
I could tell you that this film is an audiovisual reflection on certain forms of masculine spectacle and I suppose that it is (to a certain degree). I have used it in class before but not as a contribution to any seminar on British popular culture. I normally tend to use this film as a means of getting a reaction and it certainly does always manage to provoke a response from the class it is inflicted upon. The film is a good conversation starter and a good conversation ender at the same time.
I’m not suggesting that you should watch it – I just thought it might provoke a response. I’ll leave the final words here to Roland Barthes:
A boxing match is a story which is constructed before the eyes of the spectator; in wrestling, on the contrary, it is each moment which is intelligible, not the passage of time.
Roland Barthes, ‘The World of Wrestling’, Mythologies, 1972