Megan and Murray McMillan
are artists in Providence, RI.

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All images by Megan or Murray McMillan unless otherwise noted.

Film and Video

Thinking about Film

Thinking About Video

Donnie Darko (2001)

Darko1
[source]

Darko2
[source]

Donnie: Why do you wear that stupid rabbit suit?
Frank: Why do you wear that stupid man suit?

Donnie Darko is number 73 on my [work-in-progress] Favorite Films List. It's darkly mysterious but not horror--think Time Bandits (1981).

Last night we watched the newly released limited edition with extra scenes with director commentary (on the extra scenes only). This is a must-see for Darko fans. The director, Richard Kelly, lowers his cards enough to reveal exactly what this extremely enigmatic film was designed to symbolize.

Although this might come as a shock, it turns out that Donnie Darko's medication is actually only placebo sugar pills--so, apparently, all of the surreal events are not merely in his head. A second key note: Kelly thinks of Frank the rabbit as "divine intervention." Kelly explains in the notes that he wanted the film to "leave room for interpretation" so most, if not all, conversations about God were removed in the final edit.

The only remaining divine intervention clues in the movie are subtle: the movie Donnie leaves to burn the child pornographer's house down is The Last Temptation of Christ.

Wes Anderson's Hotel Chevalier

Hotel1

Hotel2

We like Wes Anderson, so it's a given that I'd approach Hotel Chevalier, a loosely constructed prologue to his new feature film The Darjeeling Limited, with fan-like appreciation instead of hard criticism. I like the emotional complexity of his characters. I like the tender sensitivity to poetry and metaphor and ultimate, weary optimism of his films. I like the careful compositions of each frame and the painterly attention to the smallest set detail. I also like the sophisticated use of color, which comprises a subtle code that transitions from film to film consistently.

I can think of no other contemporary director that evokes Hictchcock's sensibility better than Anderson. See Hitchcock's use of color as an emotional device in Marnie, or the complex character development of Vertigo, North by Northwest, or Psycho.

Hotel Chevalier has all my favorite Anderson trademarks. In its 13-minute duration, Anderson establishes mood, character, location and sparse background details... and little else. This is not a plot-heavy short, but few of his films are. What happens, really, in Rushmore, or The Royal Tenenbaums, or The Life Aquatic, except the slow transition of difficult interpersonal relationships heading towards imperfect resolution?

Although I've read strong criticism of Hotel Chevalier and suspect there will be more directed towards the upcoming The Darjeeling Limited, and while I can see the critics' main point — that Anderson is using the same bag of tricks all over again to lesser effect — I remain a loyalist.

Ultimately, I think that Wes Anderson is an artist's filmmaker. He is slowly and consistently developing a cohesive body of work that, like Hitchcock's, will include some works that are better than others. Taken as a whole, though, I think they will be among the defining films of our time.

You can see Hotel Chevalier for free on iTunes.

Related: Murray on The Life Aquatic with Steve Zizzou, and my reminiscence on a Dallas all-boys school and Rushmore.

The Art and Making of The Children of Men (2006)

Cmen1
[source]

Cmen2
[source]

Cmen3
[source]

Children of Men (2006), directed by Alfonso Cuarón (Y tu mamá también, 2001) is an intelligent action treat with ideal casting, strong dialog and inspiring sets. It happens in the future but is not science fiction. It's a combination of Brazil's atmosphere and rhythm, Blade Runner's hectic casualness and Jean-Luc Godard's Week End surreality. Of note, is how the movie nods to contemporary art, with famous works littered throughout in comic contexts.

Tech-heads will enjoy this short clip on how they choreographed a robot camera mounted inside a moving car (how fun would it be to work with a HUGE budget?).

Bom Yeoreum Gaeul Gyeoul Geurigo Bom (2003)

Spring1

Spring2

Spring3

Bom Yeoreum Gaeul Gyeoul Geurigo Bom, Korean for Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter and Spring, is the best movie I've seen this year. It's about two monks on a floating monastery, but it's really about being human. A robust delight for your Netflix cue.

The Solution to Showing Video Art

Couch

One of the problems with video art is that there's no good place to see it in established exhibition venues. There's the monitor-on-a-podium strategy. Then there's the darkened-cordoned-off-space-and-projected-onto-a-wall strategy. Both have their problems: light control, space occupation, how the video piece interacts with other artwork.

But perhaps the biggest problem with video art exhibition is the simple fact that hardly anybody wants to stand there and watch a time-consuming video when you can zoom through a gallery and take in the static work at 30 seconds-per. Sure, there are people who do stand there and stick it out, but my guess is they do it because it's broccoli. You know it's good for you, and that your body will thank you for it later, but it's not nearly as appealing as chocolate cake.

Video art is here to stay, and what's more: it's good stuff. So it's not the artwork that's unappealing, it's the presentation. It's the choice between standing in a dark room for an indefinite period of time, or squinting at a small tv screen stuck in some corner by the bathroom (MOCA!). If it's the presentation that's the problem, then whose responsibility is it to begin to make changes as to how we exhibit video art, the institution or the artist?

Should the artist make demands about presentation? Does that mean that the artist is responsible for providing the equipment? Does that mean that the artwork is not just a DVD that's handed to a curator, but it's a high lumen projector, audio equipment, speakers, a DVD player, a surface to project onto, and an instruction sheet stipulating the exact distance between the projector and the screen. Oh, and instructions about the precise calibrations of the projector — and the DVD with the artwork. It's a tricky question.

Two institutions come to mind that have addressed this question in innovative ways. The Orange County Museum of Art's Orange Lounge is a video art gallery with couches, chairs, desks with computers that access databases of video art, and a video installation gallery. It's in a mall. Actually, it's at South Coast Plaza, which is slightly more, hmm, upscale, than a regular mall. Nevertheless, you can pop into the Lounge after buying a ridiculously expensive pair of jeans, and chill out on a sofa while watching William Wegman's early stuff from the 70s.

The second example was an exhibition we saw last summer in Barcelona at Caixa Forum called Histories Animades, (our friend and fellow artist-in-residence Megan Lynch reviewed the show here). This animation show featured over 33 artists, and it was one of the most enjoyable exhibition-viewing experiences I've ever had.

The audience had three choices when it came to seeing the videos: all 33 were projected or displayed on monitors throughout the gallery; all 33 were loaded into a bank of user-friendly computers, and the videos could be manipulated easily (speed up, slowed down, skipped over); or you could sit in an auditorium filled with couches and pillows and watch all 33 on a loop. Murray and I spent hours there, and the time we put into it had everything to do with a successful exhibition strategy.

We have a new video work opening in a solo show at Webster University on Friday, and we've been wrestling with how to show the work in a way most conducive to attentive viewing.

We bought a couch. It's the best we can do to encourage the viewer to hang around a while: a little over two minutes, in fact. It's the length of a long pause, or a television commercial, or a trip in an elevator. Could be no time at all. Could be an eternity. It helps if you're sitting down.

HD and Video Art

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Sony VX2100

Cam2
Panasonic DVX100B

We're looking at video cameras this week and doing a lot of calculation as to what's important and what's not. With video equipment it's really easy to get less or more than you need.

For current video artists, HD is not the way to go. HD is excessively expensive, HD files are difficult to handle, the technology to record a HD disc is not even out yet and most galleries and museums use overwhelmingly non-widescreen and non-HD tvs, vcrs and projectors. I don't expect them to adopt HD for 5+ years (around 2011).

This is a great time to buy a SD (non-widescreen, non-HD) video camera. These are thousands of dollars less through sales and rebates to compete against the newer HD cameras. The older SD cameras actually have a better picture (on a SD screen) and better controls than similarly priced (but relatively low-end) HD cameras.

Two SD Cameras We Recommend for Video Art (2006)
1) Best camera for video artists on a budget: a used Sony VX2100 ($1200-$1600 used, $2200 new). Built like a tank (making it a good candidate for buying used). Wowzo low light sensitivity. Good manual controls, but famous for its automatic mode. Many refer to this as the ultimate "run and gun" camera: ideal for news gathering and documentaries when you don't have time to set up the shot. We used this camera to shoot Sea Shovel and our upcoming Bruc Fugue. The VX2100's only shortcoming is below-average sound.

2) Best camera for video artists who don't mind an extra grand in debt: the legendary Panasonic DVX100B ($3100 new). Best-in-class manual control. Extreme wide-angle lens (which means you can get away with a smaller studio). Audio that is the technical equivalent to a DAT. And it can shoot in Progressive mode--which means every frame is crystal clear with no video lines. It has excellent low light ability, however the VX2100 is better in this area by a small margin. Also note Progressive mode has a steep learning curve (you really have to stay on top of all the settings in your editor--not hard, but requires going slow in the beginning). This is the camera we used for Mountainside.

We also respect the Sony PD170 or PD150 ($2700 new), an upgraded VX2100 with XLR audio, a wide angle lens adaptor and records on DVCAM (more reliable recording, but same quality). It is widely rumored to have the same problematic audio issues, so we prefer the Panasonic DVX100B, however, If you prefer automatic controls and less techno-babble than the PD170 is your ride.

Two SD Cameras to Avoid
The Canon GL2 and the Canon XL2. Both cameras are sexy looking but have fatal flaws. The cute GL2 ($2000 new) has smaller chips than the Sony VX2100 and is nearly the same money (Canon hopes you buy a beautiful-looking camera instead of a camera that records beautiful images). The impressive looking XL2 ($3500 new) is also a tourist trap with the misleading ability to change lenses--which seems smart until you realize it's another $1000 for a lens (or $500 for the adaptor to use your Canon SLR lenses). In addition, the image chips in a XL2 are designed for widescreen, so if you want a standard-size image you'll actually get less quality (remember most galleries and museums don't have widescreen monitors or projectors). To be fair, the XL2 creates a beautiful image (we had a XL2 as the backup camera on Mountainside)--it's just not the best bang for the buck.

How to Draw a Bunny Screening & Discussion, Fri, Sept. 22

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[source]

Acclaimed filmmaker John Walter will be coming to St Louis to screen and discuss How to Draw a Bunny (2001). These screenings will serve as fundraisers for The Living Tree Mural Project, a unique, collaborative art project between St. John’s Episcopal Church and the South City Open Studio and Art Gallery.

Friday, Sept 22
The Tin Ceiling, 3159 Cherokee (at Compton). Doors open at 7:30 p.m. Screening at 8:00 p.m., followed by discussion with John Walter.

Suggested donations for all screenings: $10 for adults, $5 for students with valid ID.
To reserve spaces in advance, call (314) 772-3970 or e-mail info@towergrovechurch.org. Reservations not required.

Track Mania Ballet

Trackmania
Blackshark, 1K Project II [source]

It's about time we started seeing innovative game-based video art. The artist Blackshark uses Track Mania to create a visual ballet of swarming cars. Watch it here.

[Via Rhizome]