{"id":3537,"date":"2002-05-19T15:00:16","date_gmt":"2002-05-19T14:00:16","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/?p=3537"},"modified":"2018-01-25T15:01:03","modified_gmt":"2018-01-25T15:01:03","slug":"intervention-and-processing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/2002\/05\/19\/intervention-and-processing\/","title":{"rendered":"Intervention &#038; Processing"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"text-align: center;\">ngg_shortcode_0_placeholder<\/p>\n<p><strong>INTERVENTION &amp; PROCESSING<br \/>\nSunday 19 May 2002, at 3:00pm<br \/>\nLondon Tate Modern<\/strong><\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\">The workshop was an integral part of the LFMC and provided almost unlimited access to hands-on printing and processing. Within this supportive environment, artists were free to experiment with technique and engage directly with the filmstrip in an artisan manner. By treating film as a medium in the same way that a sculptor might use different materials, the Co-op filmmakers brought a new understanding of the physical substance and the way it could be crafted.<\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\"><strong>Annabel Nicolson, Slides, 1970, colour, silent, 12 min (18fps)<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>Fred Drummond, Shower Proof, 1968, b\/w, silent, 10 min (18fps)<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>Guy Sherwin, At The Academy, 1974, b\/w, sound, 5 min<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>David Crosswaite, The Man With The Movie Camera, 1973, b\/w, silent, 8 min<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>Mike Dunford, Silver Surfer, 1972, b\/w, sound, 15 min<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>Jenny Okun, Still Life, 1976, colour, silent, 6 min<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>Lis Rhodes, Dresden Dynamo, 1971, colour, sound, 5 min<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>Chris Garratt, Versailles I &amp; II, 1976, b\/w, sound, 11 min<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>Roger Hewins, Windowframe, 1975, colour, sound, 6 min<\/strong><\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\">Annabel Nicolson pulled prepared sections of film (which might be sewn, collaged, perforated) through the printer to make <em>Slides<\/em>. Fred Drummond\u2019s <em>Shower Proof<\/em>, an early Co-op process film, exploits the degeneration of the image as a result of successive reprinting, intuitively cutting footage of two people in a bathroom. Guy Sherwin uses layers of positive and negative leader to build a powerful bas-relief in <em>At The Academy<\/em>, while Jenny Okun explores the properties of colour negative in <em>Still Life<\/em>. Considered and brilliantly executed, <em>The Man with the Movie Camera <\/em>dazzles with technique as focus, aperture and composition are adjusted to exploit a mirror positioned in front of the lens. For <em>Silver Surfer<\/em>, Mike Dunford refilms individual frames of footage originally sourced from television as waves of electronic sound wash over the shimmering figure. Contrasting colours and optical patterns intensify the illusion that Lis Rhodes\u2019 <em>Dresden Dynamo<\/em> appears to hover in deep space between the viewer and the screen. Garratt\u2019s <em>Versailles I &amp; II <\/em>breaks down a conventional travelogue into repetitive, rhythmic sections. Roger Hewins employs optical masking to create impossible \u2018real time\u2019 events which, though prosaic, appear to take on an almost sacred affectation in <em>Windowframe<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\">Screening introduced by Lis Rhodes.<\/p>\n<a onclick=\"wpex_toggle(894764644, 'PROGRAMME NOTES', 'Read less'); return false;\" class=\"wpex-link\" id=\"wpexlink894764644\" href=\"#\">PROGRAMME NOTES<\/a><div class=\"wpex_div\" id=\"wpex894764644\" style=\"display: none;\"><\/p>\n<p><strong>INTERVENTION &amp; PROCESSING<br \/>\n<\/strong>Sunday 19 May 2002, at 3:00pm<br \/>\nLondon Tate Modern<\/p>\n<p><strong>SLIDES<br \/>\nAnnabel Nicolson, 1970, colour, silent, 12 min (18fps)<br \/>\n<\/strong>\u201c<em>Slides <\/em>was made while I was still a student at St.Martins. Like the sewing machine piece, it was one that just happened. By that time I was immersed in film and I always seemed to have bits of film around in my room, on the table, everywhere, always little fragments. I had slides of my paintings and I cut up the slides and made them into a strip. Imagine a 16mm strip of celluloid with sprocket holes: Instead of that what I had was a strip \u2013 just slightly narrower \u2013 without the sprocket holes and the slides were just cut into bits, just little fragments and stuck in with other film as well, and also sewing (this was before <em>Reel Time<\/em>). There are bits sewn with thread and some bits with holes punched in. It was a very natural way of me to work, coming from painting, just working with something I could hold in my hand was somehow less threatening than working with equipment. I think I was much more confident working with something that I could grab hold of, so I made this strip and then the film was really created in the contact printer at the Co-op. Normally you would have your raw negative and your emulsion and its literally in contact, the light shines through it and you make a copy, but I had this very thin strip, which I held in the contact printer and I just manoeuvered it. I could see what I was doing because there\u2019s a little peephole you can look into so that you can see each image. It amazes me now that I could have ever done anything like that, I couldn\u2019t possibly go within a hundred yards of doing it now. But I did it then and <em>Slides<\/em> was what came out of it.&#8221; \u2014Annabel Nicolson, interview with Mark Webber, 2002<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>Slides <\/em>develops a simple and elegant tension between stasis and apparent motion, between surface and depth, and between abstract colours \/ shapes and representational imagery. Ironically, the material pulled through the printer this time is not found-footage posing as original material which is utilized in the way found-footage had been used by others. The film thus engages the entire concept of \u2013 in David Curtis\u2019 phrase \u2013 \u2018the English rubbish tip aesthetic\u2019 which embraces, in part, the theory that anything that can travel through a printer and\/or projector is film material for a film and for cinematic projection. The valueless becomes valued. Nicolson asserts the preciousness not only of her original material but also that material in its transformations, and by extension the potential preciousness of all perception. In this respect the film moves away from the rigorous ascetic strategy and is more indulgent of the pleasure of vision\u2026\u201d \u2014Deke Dusinberre, Perspectives on British Avant-Garde Film catalogue, 1977<\/p>\n<p><strong>SHOWER PROOF<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>Fred Drummond, 1968, b\/w, silent, 10 min (18fps)<br \/>\n<\/strong>\u201cSONF SOUND TRACK SYNC? SPASH BTHA BATH GURGLE WATER \u2013 how real \u2013 pure film \u2013 or a report \u2013 situation examined by camera \u2013 but false \u2013 contrived realism is not a true record of spontaneous actuality \u2013 this could never be? enough to contrive (the camera makes every situation an arrangement), then edit out as much obvious contrivance. It is only a FILM.\u201d \u2014Fred Drummond, original production notes for <em>Shower Proof<\/em>, 1968<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFred Drummond has made a series of short single and double-screen films that explore visual rhythms and the potentials of the printing process. They are non-narrative, careful orchestrations of repeated loop footage. <em>Shower Proof<\/em> is printed on increasingly high-contrast negative. The image grows from the abstract, yet plainly anthropomorphic, steadily through to the personal, yet non-specific \u2013 we see neither the man\u2019s nor the woman\u2019s face in detail \u2013 and back. The film explores the relation between form and movement. The visual rhythm is so strong that despite the film being silent the viewer has a strong aural impression.\u201d \u2014Verina Glaessner, \u201cDirectory of UK Independent Film-Makers\u201d, Cinema Rising No.1, April 1972<\/p>\n<p><strong>AT THE ACADEMY<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>Guy Sherwin, 1974, b\/w, sound, 5 min<br \/>\n<\/strong>\u201cIn making films, I am not trying to say something, but to find out about something. But what one tries to find out, and how one tries to find it out, reveals what one is saying.\u201d \u2014Guy Sherwin, Arts Council Film-makers on Tour catalogue, 1980<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>At the Academy <\/em>was made during a period of raiding laboratory skips for junk film. It uses a very simple and highly unprofessional homemade printer. The found-footage was hand printed by winding it on a sprocketed wheel through a light beam. Because the light spills over the sound track area, the optical sound undergoes identical transformations to the image. I programmed the printing so that the image gradually builds up in layers superimposed, slightly out of phase, moving from one up to twelve layers. This has the effect of stretching or decelerating individual frames from 1\/24 sec to 1\/2 sec, causing them to fuse with adjacent frames. A separate concern in the film is the game it plays with the audience\u2019s expectations.\u201d \u2014Guy Sherwin, A Perspective on English Avant-Garde Film catalogue, 1978<\/p>\n<p><strong>THE MAN WITH THE MOVIE CAMERA<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>David Crosswaite, 1973, b\/w, silent, 8 min<br \/>\n<\/strong>\u201cCrosswaite\u2019s <em>Man with the Movie Camera<\/em> is a particularly elegant film. By mounting a circular mirror a little before the camera, so that it only occupies the central area of the screen, and another mirror to the side, the camera and the cameraman may be seen as the central image, with the other features of the room visible around the circumference. The film is complex in spite of the simplicity of the set-up, which is only slowly grasped. Particularly succinct is the way in which the effect of manipulating the camera, like changing focus, is seen in the image simultaneously with a view of how it is brought about. There is no other \u2018content\u2019 than the functioning of the camera itself, seen to be sufficient and even poetic.\u201d \u2014Malcolm Le Grice, Abstract Film and Beyond, 1977<\/p>\n<p><strong>SILVER SURFER<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>Mike Dunford, 1972, b\/w, sound, 15 min<br \/>\n<\/strong>\u201cA surfer, filmed and shown on tv, refilmed on 8mm, and refilmed again on 16mm. Simple loop structure preceded by four minutes of a still frame of the surfer. An image on the borders of apprehension, becoming more and more abstract. The surfer surfs, never surfs anywhere, an image suspended in the light of the projector lamp. A very quiet and undramatic film, not particularly didactic. Sound: the first four minutes consists of a fog-horn, used as the basic tone for a chord played on the organ, the rest of the film uses the sound of breakers with a two second pulse and occasional bursts of musical-like sounds.\u201d \u2014London Film-Makers Co-operative distribution catalogue supplement, 1972<\/p>\n<p>\u201cScientific or objective reality is based on repetition or frequency of observed data. It has been postulated that any unusual event which occurs only once cannot be observed. Organisation of space is determined by a continuous reference to the relationships between the observer and the observed data. \u2018Objectivity\u2019 is a function of frequency, continued frequency implies permanence and therefore objectivity. Frequency is determined by the organism. The perceptual threshold of a human being is approximately 1\/30th of a second. Perception is a product of frequency which is a product of perception.\u201d \u2014Mike Dunford, \u201cConjectures and Assertions\u201d, Filmaktion programme notes, 1973<\/p>\n<p><strong>STILL LIFE<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>Jenny Okun, 1976, colour, silent, 6 min<br \/>\n<\/strong>\u201c<em>Still Life <\/em>moves towards later stages of transformation than the earlier films and substitutes positive for negative camera stock in the conventional negative-positive process of filming and printing: the filmmaker then attempts to reinstate some sort of representation of reality by painting the fruit in front of the camera its negative colours; but the burnt-out shadows and black highlights consistently prevent any illusionistic interpretation of the space within the frame while also asserting the processes involved.\u201d \u2014Jeremy Spencer, \u201cFilms of Jenny Okun\u201d, Readings No. 2, 1977<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMy films, photographic constructions, and paintings all stem from similar concerns. They are attempts to integrate the structural aspects of an event\/landscape with the structural aspects of the medium involved. This integration of structures is aimed at creating a balance with no one element overstated, no one part dominant. My own participation is emphasised in this process \u2013 just as scientists now acknowledge that their own existence cannot be ignored in the calculation of experimental data. The subjects that I choose are not those that most easily suggest a filmic structure but are subjects which cannot be verbalized. For me, film is a language with which we can study our own visual thought processes. Each new film can create its own language for this visual discussion and can be explored and contained within its own terms.\u201d \u2014Jenny Okun, Arts Council Film-Makers on Tour catalogue, 1980<\/p>\n<p><strong>DRESDEN DYNAMO<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>Lis Rhodes, 1971, colour, sound, 5 min&nbsp;<br \/>\n<\/strong>\u201cThe enduring importance of Lis Rhodes as artist and film-maker is attributable to her quiet and powerful radicalism. Rhodes\u2019 work juxtaposes an artistically and theoretically rigorous practice with passionate commitment. She has developed a mode of film-making inspired but not enslaved by feminism, which has sustained and grown regardless of fashionable trends in art and representation.\u201d \u2014Gill Henderson, A Directory of British Film and Video Artists, 1996<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSounds are affective. Images are instructive. In reversing, turning over, the notation, or perhaps the connotation of images and words, it becomes alarmingly apparent that words (and not only in their relationship with sentences) are to be believed, or not, and are therefore emotional. This is why lots can be said and nothing happens, or nothing is said and a lot happens. One person\u2019s word against another\u2019s. The answer and the question occupy the same space. They are already familiar if not known to each other. Emotionally they live within the same political order, that is, of manipulation and persuasion. Images do not \u2018say\u2019. They are instructive. They are said to \u2018speak for themselves\u2019. And I think they do. Seeing sense is a rare occurrence, in itself. There is little space for reflexive meaning in reflection. The one is the other, if not in geometry, certainly in time. The values of a social system are continuously displayed and reproduced. Repetitive distribution re-enforces acceptance, protectionism masquerades as \u2018free\u2019 choice. But the explicit nature of images always remains implicit. You can look at them. They are made to look at you. Even chance cannot avoid recognition. Abstract or configured instruction is within the image. Even nothing much is something. Meanwhile the needle goes round and round the record irrespective of the recording. Tape wraps round the head and the disc spins. \u201cRead my lips\u2019, he said. Hopefully, we didn\u2019t bother. Seeing is never believing, or lip sync a confirmation of authenticity. But the combination of instruction and affectivity is very effective. Anything can be sold in between, anything that necessitates the political construction of emotion. In a series of films and live works I have investigated the material connections between the film image and the optical sound track. In <em>Dresden Dynamo<\/em>, the one was the other. That is \u2013 what is heard is seen and what is seen is heard. One symbolic order creates the other. The film is the score is the sound.\u201d \u2014Lis Rhodes, \u201cFlashback from a Partisan Filmmaker\u201d, Filmwaves No. 6, 1998<\/p>\n<p><strong>VERSAILLES I &amp; II<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>Chris Garratt, 1976, b\/w, sound, 11 min&nbsp;<br \/>\n<\/strong>\u201cFor this film I made a contact printing box, with a printing area 16mm x 185mm which enabled the printing of 24 frames of picture plus optical sound area at one time. The first part is a composition using 7 x one-second shots of the statues of Versailles. Palace of 1000 Beauties, with accompanying soundtrack, woven according to a pre-determined sequence. Because sound and picture were printed simultaneously, the minute inconsistencies in exposure times resulted in rhythmic fluctuations of picture density and levels of sound. Two of these shots comprise the second part of the film which is framed by abstract imagery printed across the entire width of the film surface: the visible image is also the sound image.\u201d \u2014Chris Garratt, London Film-Makers\u2019 Co-operative distribution catalogue, 1977<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI was motivated originally by the prospect of being able to compose sound and visual images in units of fractions of seconds and by the tremendous ratio of magnification between the making and projection of sound and picture images. The content is not really the figurative subject matter as in some superimposed concept, but the here and now of the raw material, in making and in projection, and in the relationship between these two events in which nothing is hidden, propped up, decorated, representative or representable. (The choice of the material used was largely a matter of chance, but it is significant that (1) the original footage deals with \u2018art\u2019 and \u2018culture\u2019 in a very clich\u00e9d way, (2) we instantly relate to this whole genre of documentary rather than to the particular subject, (3) it contains virtually no subject or camera movement at all, and (4) there is an optical soundtrack, identifiable during editing only in the abstract, i.e. visually).\u201d \u2014Chris Garratt, \u201cDirectory of Independent British Cinema\u201d, Independent Cinema No. 1, 1978<\/p>\n<p><strong>WINDOWFRAME<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>Roger Hewins, 1975, colour, sound, 6 min<br \/>\n<\/strong>\u201c<em>Windowframe<\/em> is an investigation of the way in which we may perceive a specific image \u2013 that of two people, seen through a window, involved in some activity. This is the image seen at the opening of the film. Subsequent sections of the film present to the viewer differing juxtapositions of the four segments of this image which are created by the cross-bars of the window. Tensions are created between what we expect to see, and what we do see. We see the original image as a single whole. Do we perceive the manipulated sections in the same way, or are we drawn to investigate each pane separately? Can we make ourselves see the manipulated sections in the same way we see the original sequence? In the section in which the image is split simply horizontally or vertically are we able to re-establish\/re-construct the original image in our minds so that the image we see differs from that on the screen? Perhaps this film answers some of these questions; perhaps it merely raises them.\u201d \u2014Roger Hewins, Derby Independent Film Awards catalogue, 1976<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFor the best part of ten years <em>Windowframe<\/em> was exhibited as a silent film. I had, however, always \u2018seen\u2019 it as a film with sound. Indeed a magnetic stripe to facilitate this had been added to the original print of the film at the lab. However, I was unable to decide exactly what the soundtrack should be. A simple music track seemed inappropriate, too much like background music for its own sake with little relationship to the structure of the visuals, whilst attempts at a more constructed rhythmic track introduced extraneous \u2018off-screen\u2019 information taking the viewer outside of the experience of simply watching the film itself. I was looking for a soundtrack that provided an equivalence for the visuals themselves. The soundtrack on the existing print is the \u201cMissa Pange Lingua\u2019\u201d by Josquin des Pres. It was combined with the visuals in 1982. This music was in fact recorded for a later film. During the editing of this film I became interested in the \u2018out-takes\u2019, where singers had made mistakes injecting sudden interruptions in the four-part medieval harmonies. Not only did the religious music resonate the stained glass quality of the images, but also the four-part structure and its interruptions provided the auditory equivalence for the overall structure of the film.&#8221; \u2014Roger Hewins, 2002<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"#top\">Back to top<\/a><\/p>\n<p><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>INTERVENTION &amp; PROCESSING Sunday 19 May 2002, at 3:00pm London Tate Modern The workshop was an integral part of the LFMC and provided almost unlimited access to hands-on printing and processing. Within this supportive environment, artists were free to experiment with technique and engage directly with the filmstrip in an artisan manner. By treating film [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[111],"tags":[118],"class_list":["post-3537","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-shoot-shoot-shoot","tag-shoot-shoot-shoot"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3537","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3537"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3537\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3537"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3537"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/markwebber.org.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3537"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}