Showing posts with label juxtapose. Show all posts
Showing posts with label juxtapose. Show all posts

Friday, May 25, 2012

Juxtaposition, continued (sort of)

Back in my student days, I used to make these surrealist movies (I did say I liked surrealism).  Mostly they were short, like 3-6 minutes.  I had to make at least 6 per semester, but there were no other requirements, no assignments, no specific hoops to fly through.  But if I start the story there, I'm getting ahead of myself.



The first video I ever made, with a borrowed video camera, contained music I borrowed too.  Better to say, music I stole.  Jazz, Classical, Avant-garde Electronica, all blended together with the "live" sound thanks to a borrowed mixer.  It was okay.  The first version was way too long at 18 minutes, so I had to cut it down to 6 minutes and it was almost watchable at that length, just don't ask me to watch it now, lol.



What I noticed though, was that the music really carried the thing.  Take away the stolen melodies and the whole thing would fall flat on it's face.  There's a quote which I first heard attributed to Kubrick, but which I've never been able to verify, "Film is 90 percent sound."  I keep that quote close because I agree so thoroughly with it.  I would also amend it to say, "And film is 80 percent music."



If you have ever seen the 1984 production of Dune, Produced by Dino De Larentis and compare it to the 1980 production of Flash Gordon with the same producer you can kind of see a petri dish of this phenomena.  Without getting too far into it, I consider Flash Gordon to be a successful, if flawed movie, and Dune to be a failure, without flaws.  I'll go further and say Dune is a much better made movie than Flash Gordon, but Flash Gordon is much more enjoyable to watch.  The reason the better film is not as good, in my opinion is in the scores of the two films.  Queen's score for Flash Gordon improves a weak film and really drives it forward.  Toto's score for Dune brings the film down and wrecks a superior effort.

Recognizing that the strength of my first video relied so heavily on music, music that I didn't produce, I decided, if I was to make any more video, I would have to start producing my own music.  So, with no training at all, and no clue, and being kind of tone deaf, I started to make music.



That early stuff is worse than any video I ever made.  It's not just unlistenable, it's downright annoying to hear, it grates on the ears.  The event I credit most with helping break me out of the terrible musical rut I was in was learning about John Cage's compositional process, casting sticks using the iChing.  His process was completely random.  It liberated me because it made me believe I couldn't make any mistakes, if random chance could be used to write music, then mistakes were an impossibility.  As soon as I wasn't afraid of making mistakes, I got more adventurous and the music I produced became more interesting.

I continued to do my little musical experiments (that's really what they were), and record them to tape.  I produced hours and hours of material.  On rare occasions, I produced something I liked, and anything I liked would be cataloged on a series of "Master" tapes I began to make.  By the end of this way of working, I'd produced three 90 minute "Master" tapes containing music of various lengths, tempos, and moods.  I would describe most of it as Avant-garde Electronica with contemporary classical ambitions.  There were a few pop oriented tunes as well, but not many.

The only time I have ever visited a large film production facility, one of the more interesting things to me was the music room, essentially, a room with a sound system and two walls filled with CDs (this was a while ago).  The room existed so directors and producers could go find music for their projects.  I always wondered how they picked which CDs to include in the room, if it was dependent on some licensing agreement.  The only time I tried to arrange legal borrowed music for a video I was producing, the record company sent me a large package of CDs from their second tier artists.  Artists who would love to be included in a movie sound track, even for very little money.  The exposure is often invaluable to them and hence they are willing to come cheap.



The three "Master" tapes I produced became my "music room" for my videos.  Each time I finished editing a new video, I would peruse my music tapes looking for something interesting to include.  Very rarely, I would score a specific music work for a specific video.  Going back to that first video I made, using "found" music seemed to add depth to the work and I liked that process.  The difference was, now the "found" music was music I had produced earlier, at another time and place.

And this gets back to the idea of juxtaposition.  Taking music recorded months earlier in a different emotional state, different time, different place and adding it to a just completed video creates a moment of juxtaposition.  Similarly, I have taken my own writings from years in the past, poetry and essays from high school, for example, and used them, word for word, to make new things, videos, songs, etc  . . .  Once I was doing this series of miniature photographs in my apartment.  Obviously, I couldn't include a "real" sky, because I was indoors, but I remembered this series of cloud paintings I'd done with pen and ink, years earlier.  I scanned those and used them as the "sky" in the miniature photo series.  I once wrote a poem, years later, made an art book of the poem, years later, made a video based on the art book, and am now considering using the same poem as lyrics for a song in the retro project.  I wouldn't call it a good poem either, but I like it, obviously, since I keep returning to it.

I think it's often the case, that our own creations from the past offer the easiest and most personal means of creating juxtaposition in current work.  You could even say, past work is a treasure trove to be mined for value in the present.  It enriches and adds depth.  It's like working with an independent clone of oneself.  All the benefits of "design by committee" with none of the negatives, after all, you can be a dictator over your past self, but I would say you, and more importantly, your work, benefit by being a benevolent dictator in that relationship.

Monday, May 21, 2012

Juxtaposition?

I had this incredible idea.  I mean, thought it was an idea for something new and different, by which I mean, an idea for a new and different song, or the starting point for one, but then, something else happened.

I'm still working on the Retro Project, which was originally going to be a single song for a compilation of 80s inspired/produced songs without guitar, but it's looking like it will be at least an EP and maybe a whole album.



In addition, I'm working on an album called: "The Orange Album, Kaossilator + Kaoss Pad".  What's different about the orange project, from everything else I've done, is, it's all improvisational.  There is no plan for any tune, just an unscripted jam using two instruments.  I may later add vocals, but that too will be improvisational.  The real beauty of this project is that it takes 3 minutes to make a 3 minute song.  If I add vocals, it takes 6 minutes to make a 3 minute song.  You can do the math for songs of other lengths.  But the point is, it's a very fast way of working.  And, like the retro project, it takes me out of my comfort zone, and uses process to redefine the way I make music.


The idea I had over the weekend was to apply some of the process of the Orange Album to the Retro Project.  Since I am using the Casio VL-1 as a drum machine for some of the Retro Project tracks, I thought it might be a fun challenge to incorporate the most boring rhythm included in the machine; "March".  BTW, you cannot program your own drum beats with the VL-1, you are limited to the pre-programmed ones.  To make them interesting, you have to filter.  The "March" is a 1-2 pattern of a bleep and some noise.  It sounds like this: bleep, crunch, bleep, crunch, bleep, crunch, etc . . .  Not very interesting, unless you can filter it to make it interesting, which is exactly what I intended to do.


In a previous post, I mentioned the Classic Albums episode for Fleetwood Mac's Rumours album.  One of the more interesting songs, in terms of how it came about, was The Chain.  It started life as a heavy up tempo jam between John the bassist and Mick the drummer, but that all it was, there was no intro, or opening.  Stevie Nicks offered a song she was working on, to serve as the intro to their jam.  If you listen to the song, you can hear where her contribution ends and the jam begins, but, if you don't know the story of the song, it flows so naturally, you can't imagine the one part existing without the other.  They feel organically linked, even though they were authored by different people at different times in different places.



This is kind of what I was referring to, in the title, juxtaposition.  When you take to completely unrelated things and put them together in a work of art.  The surrealists did this most obviously, but their version of juxtaposition makes no attempt at reconciliation.  Unlike The Chain, where the two parts are seamlessly tied together, in surrealism, the unrelated things maintain their distinctness.  It's often compelling, and can be used to make very interesting arguments using metaphor, but one could also call it lazy.  I'm not suggesting surrealists are lazy artists, but relying on shocking juxtaposition for the sole value in one's art certainly seems lazy.



One of my first experiences in "Art House" cinema was attending a documentary and retrospective of the collaborative film work of Dali and Buñuel.  Based on my fuzzy memories, it seems Buñuel said they should make a movie together and Dali was up for it.  Dali described a dream of Ants walking on his hand and/or a razor cutting open an eyeball, but complained it wasn't enough material to make a movie with.  Buñuel dismissed his fears and said it was plenty to make a movie with.  Watching the film right after that interview, I have to conclude, Dali was right, those two shots do not justify the whole picture, but Buñuel was right to think that they were enough of a starting point, because both images were very strong.


What the filmmakes completely failed to do, in my opinion, was to develop ideas springing from those images and incorporate them into some disturbing, but more logical whole.  They might argue with me, that incorporating the images "logically" would undermine the whole point of surrealist film, and they might be right.  But I think they would have a much stronger film if it could be both logical and surreal.  I think the American filmmaker, David Lynch has got the mix of logic and surreal right a few times in his career, to very strong results.  But I digress.





So I opened up my music software, Logic, to start a new project, an improvisational one, using the VL-1's rhythm section, but whenever you open Logic, it opens the last project you were working on.  In this case, the first song from the Retro Project, which I have, for the moment, titled, I C U.  And then it dawns on me, maybe, instead of doing this on a new project, maybe this with be the winning rhythm for I C U.  And it was.  So, something I was intending to use for a different song, wound up being incorporated into the current song, and making it so much better.  I got rid of a bunch more temporary tracks in the sketch version of the song, and figured out what the bass line would be.

I finally was able to lay down the first layer on my old cassette 4 track, incorporating, VL-1 drums, Synsonics drums, and the bass timbre I described in the first post about this project.  Listening to the playback in analog was so sweet.  I hope it continues to go this well.



Going back to "less is more" vs. "more is more", if it's more of the same, then less is certainly more, but if it's something different, an inspiration from another place and time, more is more. I always try (but often don't succeed) in trying to have three distinctly different inspirations for each project.  Putting them together, in the same project, is what I think of as juxtaposition, though I try to really integrate them, opting away from the surrealist model.  But I love surrealism, though, that's a post for another day.