Cinesonic
4:
Between Sound & Music
JODI BROOKS Worrying the Note: Mapping Time
in the Gangsta Film Friday June 22nd@
12.30pm Treasury Theatre - lower plaza, 1 Macarthur St, Melbourne
The
gangsta film of the late 1980s and 1990s heralded what has frequently
been referred to as new wave of young black American filmmakers and
quickly became a focal point for questions around black nationalism
and its inscriptions of black masculinity and for discussion of the
function of the ghetto in both the public imaginary and in black popular
culture. Much of the critical debate around the gangsta cycle has focused
on its (assumed) claims to an authentic black urban experience and what
Sharon Willis has called the 'documentary effects' of these films. In
this essay I examine some of the ways that the gangsta film simultaneously
deploys and destabilizes these documentary effects, most significantly
through the ways that it plays with generic clich?s. Arguing that the
gangsta film mobilizes the clich? as a kind of arrested image and stages
its collapse, I approach these films in terms of their articulations
of time and historical experience. In this paper I argue that rhythmic
play-stretching, delaying, anticipating and eliding the beat-plays a
significant but overlooked role in the gangsta film: it underlies the
pacing of the image, performance, and editing in these films and is
central to their structuring of time. These are films in which time
fractures, repeats, stretches, collapses and in which different rhythmic
structures are set against each other both across the body of the films
and within particular scenes. Drawing on Arthur Jafa's proposal of a
black film practice structures through the tonal and rhythmic practices
of black popular musics and focusing on films such as Friday, Dolemite
and Set It Off, this paper examines the gangsta film in terms of questions
of rhythm and affect and argues that what many of these films stage
is the affective outline of missed experience.
Referenced
films: Friday, Dolemite, Set It Off
©
Jodi Brooks 2001
KATHRYN
BIRD Mouthing and Hong Kong Cinema Friday
June 22nd @ 2.30pm Treasury Theatre - lower plaza, 1 Macarthur St, Melbourne
This
clips-based presentation will investigate what makes sound in Hong Kong
cinema and which sounds seem to matter. It will listen for the sounds
for hard and soft bodies, and the sound-embodiment of bodies that routinely
operate vertically as well as horizontally. It will dwell on a performer
whose voice is so soft he canÍt stand up, and another who has made a
career of inarticulacy. It will explore vocalising, the relevance of
the match between voices and lips, and what else mouths are for in Hong
Kong Cinema.
Referenced
films: Days Of Being Wild, Happy Together, Chungking Express, Iron Monkey,The
Bride With White Hair, Swordsman , Heroic Trio, The Blade, Way Of The
Dragon (Return Of The Dragon), Enter The Dragon, Big Boss, Rumble In
The Bronx, The Man From Hong Kong, 36th Chamber Of Shaolin, Broken Oath,
Legend Of The Seven Golden Vampires, The Sword
©
Kathryn Bird 2001
McKENZIE
WARK The E.R.-Effect: The Sound of Ambient Suffering
Friday June 30th @ 4.30pm Treasury Theatre - lower plaza, 1 Macarthur
St, Melbourne
With the arrival of 'home theatre' and the 'home entertainment
centre', some television producers are making more of an effort to make
TV sound interesting. A good case in point is the hit TV drama ER. Set
in a hospital emergency room, ER makes extensive use of diagetic sound.
Every machine within the frame clicks and beeps and pulses. Rhythms
are generated by these plausible noises, but so too are dramatic counterpoints
and surprises. In keeping with much of the unspoken tone of the show,
human feeling and suffering is expressed through the language of technology.
In the sound, as in the narrative and the images, one is drawn toward
an emotional relation to an other through the intermediary of the machine.
The show is a textual analogue for television itself, as an empathetic
machine, but a machine nonetheless. In this paper, so classic examples
of this ER-effect will be explored in detail.
Referenced
show: ER
©
McKenzie Wark 2001
SIMON
FISHER-TURNER Music for the films of Derek Jarman Friday June 22nd
@ 7.30pm Treasury Theatre - lower plaza, 1 Macarthur St, Melbourne
In
the hip blurred world between rock and dance, there are two schools
of 'film music'. One is the popular 'ambient' fraternity of composers
and musicians who mimic film music, writing for 'imaginary films' and
layering textures reminiscent of Brian Eno's early forays into Satie-esque
ambient music. The other is a much smaller collection of composers and
musicians who actually transform such work for films. In the gulf that
still separates the filmic sensibilities of musicians from the musical
aesthetics of directors, Simon Fisher-Turner's work is a rarity
Listening
to either a Simon Fisher-Tuner CD (there are many) or one of the many
films containing his music, one is struck by the rich indistinction
between musical atmospherics and narrative orchestration. A film composer
who is more at home in the studio than the concert hall, Fisher-Turner
brings a sonic awareness of musicality which allows his work to blend,
bleed and bend with the full spectrum of the film soundtrack. Drawing
equally on noise, rock, electronica and lounge, his work is eclectic
in its instrumentation and multi-faceted in its narrational approach.
While boasting an impressive track record with a number of international
independent directors, it is Simon Fisher-Turner's work for the late
Derek Jarman that typifies the ongoing potential his work holds for
expanding the contemporary film soundtrack. From the intricate 'musicscape'
of THE LAST OF ENGLAND to the distilled quietude and momentary bombast
of BLUE, the Fisher-Turner/Jarman collaboration stands as an impressive
example of how 'ambient' can work within the core of a film rather than
standing outside, mimicking its evocative sonic textures.
Referenced
films:Caravaggio, The Last of England, Edward II, Young Soul Rebels,
The Garden, Blue, Nadja, Loaded, Croupier
©
Philip Brophy 2001
PHILIP
BROPHY Body
Mats & Super Slams: Sport, Sound & Violence
Saturday June 23rd@ 12.30pm Treasury Theatre
- lower plaza, 1 Macarthur St, Melbourne
The body in space occupies two primary states: it can be an object without
contacting form - floating in atmosphere, checked by gravity, gripped
by substance, floating via boyancy - or it can be an object in contact
with form - slammed to a wall, brushed against a cheek, rammed into
a car, smashed through a window. The life of a body can be conceived
as a cancatenated flow between movements-to-impact and repulsions-from-impact.
The sound of the externalized body-object in audiovisual media is similarly
divided between sound and silence; between a percussive rupture and
a diffused atmosphere of non-eventfullness; between a collision of the
human and the numbing pre-delays and after-shocks which hold the actor-lump
as a body-object for the orchestration of dramatic effect. Just as that
blow on the head divides your life into a period of innocence before
the fateful incident and a period of trauma suffered after its explosive
occurrence, cinema often applies the ramp-up/ramp-down model directly
to the physicality of its characters' dramatic shaping.
From Curly Howard's skull conks to Bruce Lee's trapezius ripple to Robert
DeNiro's fist pummels, the cinematic body is an engorged and phantasmagoriacal
drum kit imagined somewhere between the minds of Harry Partch and the
Marquis deSade. Much of cinema can be aurally perceived in relation
to this notion of the body as a marker for distinguishing pre-hit and
post-hit states. Musicals, for example, celebrate the freedom of not
being caught between these two crucial states. Its utopian aura is the
feeling of not being struck down and pummelled by force, of deftly escaping
all impact. At the other extreme, horror films luxuriate in the pathological
fixation of penetrating and being penetrated. Their dystopia is aurally
unleashed by erasing the space between points of impact, so that one
is being struck incessantly, unremittingly, eternally.
Such openly orgiastic celebrations of bodily nature in the cinema have
noticably withered during the 90s. Unobserved and unheard by many, the
pornographic impulse (also a 'repulse' and 'expulse') had relocated
itself in televisual spectacles like WWF in the early 80s, leaving sportscasting
to extend the cinematic trajectory of the body on the televisual small
screen rather than the cinematic big screen. In outdoor stadiums and
indoor arenas, bodies make the sounds they should be making in the cinema.
They roam, rove and rush across spaces, through fields, along channels,
betwixt zones, over lines - always making noise and always generating
sound.
Sport is good because it is - like all prime pornography - a hulking
shell of narrative: pumped up and hollowed out; exasperated and expectorated.
Better, it melds body image and body sound into a televisual artifice
which mocks the competitive 'realism' in which sportsfans become so
embroiled. And best of all, its classical gladitorial battles (as idealized
by WWF) drag cinema's grand ideals of narrational form onto the body
mat where they belong.
Referenced
films: WWF, XFL, FA Cup, Song of Youth (1933 Winter Olympics), Flashdance,
Godzilla Vs. Megalon, Gangster Soldier, Batman (1966), Raging Bull
©
Philip Brophy 2001
JAMES
LASTRA Sound Design & the Wagnerian Impulse - or, The Fate of the Senses
Saturday June 23rd @ 2.30pm Treasury Theatre - lower plaza, 1 Macarthur
St, Melbourne
The
advent of sound design in the late 1970s reawakened cinema's Wagnerian
ambitions to provide the total artwork of full sensory immersion. As
directors and sound designers grappled with the techniques and meanings
appropriate to the new audio-visual form, they simultaneously reinvigorated
debates about the relationship among the senses themselves and between
the sensory perception and technological forms. Following Adorno's analysis
of Wagner's project, this essay investigates the place of modern sound
design within a history of the senses, and within a politics of representation.
Francis Ford Coppola's Apocalypse Now thematizes issues central to this
account (the alienation and fragmentation of the senses, the compensatory
production of phantasmagoria, the aestheticization of violence, etc.),
but it also works out its own formal responses to them.
Referenced
films: Apocalypse Now, Forrest Gump
©
James Lastra 2001
ASHISH
RAJADHYAKSHA Post-dubbed Sound in Indian Cinema
Saturday June 23rd @ 4.30pm Treasury Theatre - lower plaza, 1 Macarthur
St, Melbourne
A
discussion of the Indian cinema's general tendency for dubbing everything,
and its consequent elimination of all ambient sound. The result of this
tendency is that everything appears to emerge from a single sound "source"
whatever the diegetic "location" of the shot. (Indian cinema - including
the documentary - has never, ever, used the concept of ambient silence.)
This somewhat quixotic practice in fact offers the clearest definition
for the category of the "character" of the fiction - the narrative space
from where the character speaks - and in turn allows a conduit by which
a range of musical and theatrical practices get smuggled into the cinema,
and deal with its endlessly dynamised - therefore endlessly problematic
- vanishing point. We know that the absence of a perspectival tradition
in Indian art has led to many controversies around how it may work with
narrative at all, and more specifically with the 'character in/of the
fiction'. The coming of sound in fact changed, and transposed this visual
aspect into a problem of sound.
Referenced
films: to be confirmed
©
Ashish Rajadhyaksha 2001
SKIP
LIEVSAY Designing Sound for Spike Lee,
Martin Scorsese & the Coens Saturday June 23rd@ 7.30pm Treasury Theatre
- lower plaza, 1 Macarthur St, Melbourne
The
world may think of Hollywood as the mainspring for all that is both
the classical and modern American cinema, but numerous filmmakers and
craftspeople have drawn clear distinctions between movies made in Los
Angeles and those made elsewhere throughout the USA. Just as there are
many who choose to work within and from LA, there are a sizeable number
who are based in America's notorious metropolis, New York. Directors
like Martin Scorsese and Spike Lee are noted for their relationship
with NYC, and many other notable directors have commented on the difference
they enjoy in working 'away from Hollywood'.
For
over 15 years, Skip Lievsay's sound post-production company C5 has been
based in New York. This in itself may not appear significant Ü until
one notices that Skip Lievsay has sound designed, 6 films for Martin
Scorsese, 7 films for Spike Lee and 8 films for the Coens, as well as
having worked on a number of films with John Sayles, Errol Morris, Barry
Levinson, Jonathan Demme and Robert Altman. With a CV boasting work
completed more for directors than producers or studios, Skip's experiences
and views on sound post-production provide a rare insight to the audiovisual
matrix of contemporary American 'auteur' filmmaking. It is particularly
in his work with Scorsese, Lee and the Coens that Skip has had the opportunity
to develop a dialogue with directors whose authorial traits are well-noted.
In the realm of sound-design, it has been acknowledged time and time
again how important it is to have a type of 'dialogue' with the director
of a film. Like film composers, sound designers relish being brought
in on a job early Ü even at script stage Ü rather than receiving a phone
call 3 weeks from final mix. And numerous sound designers have noted
how that it is only through having more time to discuss their ideas
with a director do they then contribute interesting, integral and vital
work for a film. Skip Lievsay's work is proof of this. From his supply
of intricate shapes, gestures, movements and moments of multi-leveled
sound editing and mixing in Scorsese's GOODFELLAS, to his carefully
modulated sonic nuances in Demme's SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, to the gorgeous
detail and ambience in the Coen's O, BROTHER WHERE ARE THOU?, Skip Lievsay
stands as a major figure in that strange beast labelled 'Hollywood cinema'.
Referenced
films:O, Brother Where Art Thou?, Last Temptation of Christ, Crouching
Tiger Hidden Dragon, Silence of the Lambs, Miller's Crossing, Raising
Arizona, Raging Bull, Jungle Fever, Malcom X, Barton Fink, Hudsucker
Proxy
©
Philip Brophy 2001
MEGAN
SPENCER Shout It Out Loud: The Voice of the Documentary Subject
Sunday June 24th @ 2.30pm Treasury Theatre - lower plaza, 1 Macarthur
St, Melbourne
The
VOICES of the central Queensland people featured in the Australian documentary
Cunnamulla caused a cultural 'stir' when the film was released early
this year. This paper aims to look at the voice of the documentary subject
with reference to not only Cunnamulla but a range of other documentaries.
It is an area which this writer believes is often under-analysed and
marginalised within the confines Australian International Documentary
Conferences and industrial non-fiction forums. The paper will examine
and explore how the voice of the documentary subject can be defined,
analysed and interpreted; how it sounds and manifests and where it can
be identified and located within the film's text and subtext; its power
on the audience; its transcendent and transgressive potential and its
importance in defining the documentary - the film - in which it sits.
And, the reception and 'resistance' these voices sometimes receive from
audiences, the media, the film industry and cultural commentators.
Referenced
films: Cunnamulla, We The Children of the 20th Century, Killing Time
(from First Person SBS video diary'series), Crazy, Benjamin Smoke, Drinking
For England, Grey Gardens, Fishtank, Pie In The Sky: The Brigid Berlin
Story, Dream Deceivers, When I'm 21, Subway Cops and the Mole King,
A Pair of One, various video diary material.
©
Megan Spencer 2001
AUSTRALIAN
INDUSTRY SESSION SUE BROOKS, RICHARD LOWENSTEN & MARK SAVAGE Directing
for Sound & Music: Discussing the Australian Feature Soundtrack
Sunday June 24th @ 4.30pm Treasury Theatre - lower plaza, 1 Macarthur
St, Melbourne
This
panel session will discuss how Sue Brooks (Road to Nhill), Richard Lowenstein
(He Died With A Felafel In His Hand) and Mark Savage (Sensitive New
Age Killer) have dealt with sound and music in their current//recent
feature films. Issues to be discussed by the directors include: MUSIC:
How was a composer decided upon? At what stage was the composer secured?
Were parts of the score available during the edit? Did any ideas for
music change from script through to post-production? How did you go
about choosing songs for the film? SOUND: How was a sound designer or
editor chosen? Was the sound post facility an important consideration
in the choice? Did the sound designer/editor do any work in tandem with
the picture editor while you editing the film? SOUND & MUSIC? What was
it like handling the combination of sound and music during the final
mix? Referenced films: Road to Nhill (Sue Brooks), Sensitive New Age
Killer (Mark Savage), He Died With A Felafel In His Hand (Richard Lowenstein).