beyond magazine

Small and Round: Jeremiah Ketner

The cover of Beyond Issue 14: Possible Worlds is a thing of beauty - a front and back wrap around painting by Jeremiah Ketner.  I never get tired of looking at it. It makes me happy. His new Small and Round website is also a thing of beauty. Go. Look. 

Form/Content

I asked Doug some questions in response to his world animation series. I am increasingly frustrated with seeing things that are made for a certain format in an inferior format  - a film made for the theater seen on a computer monitor or television screen. I wonder sometimes if it is better to see these things through levels of windows darkly -like paintings reproduced in books - or not at all since form is content.

Doug responded:

I am a firm proponent of the very real aesthetic differences between film and video; no matter how good the quality of the latter, the texture, grain, greyscale and resolution does not compare. Also film displays via a shutter and video displays via scan lines, so the actual delivery of the image (and subliminal feel) is different.

That being said, I'm a proponent of watching movies however one can, with the implicit understanding that anything less than celluloid is inferior and if you really like the movie in question, you'll keep an eye out for a film projection of it. I go to a lot of film screenings here in Los Angeles of movies that I already own on DVD, just to see and experience them on celluloid, which is always a new--and often revelatory--experience. (Contrary to what you might expect, it's the slow, quiet, meditative films that suffer the most on small screens.)

Of course, there is a line to be drawn somewhere between quality and opportunity. Occasionally, I'll come across a DVD that I think is so sub-par that I really can't watch it in good conscience. On the other hand, I have a few ultra-rare movies on video that I know I will die before I ever get a chance to see them on film, so I slug through them, keeping in mind that I'm only seeing a rough facsimile and not an original.

You'll definitely get better resolution through a monitor rather than a standard TV. But video projectors are really coming down in prices, too, even though they can still be prohibitive. But some stores sell them with a built-in DVD players for around $800. Projectors won't increase the resolution, but they will totally amplify the atmosphere (and save space by getting the idiot box out of your living room).

I also asked about watching the subtitles rather than the English audio track.

As to subtitles, I always prefer subtitles because it preserves the original voices and nuances of the film in question. I myself don't feel like subtitles are a distraction, but I've watched well over a thousand subtitled films through the years, and I think my brain has adapted to the process pretty fluidly. Sometimes, I honestly can't recall if a film was subtitled or not. No doubt it's a learned skill.

But as I mention on the blog, I do appreciate good dubs for little kids who can't read or can't read fast enough. I do think kids should be exposed to subtitles early on, though, and hopefully accept them as a natural aesthetic. I still have fond memories of showing my four year old niece "Hedgehog in the Fog" and reading aloud the subtitles to her like a storybook. She loved it. My brother and his wife read the silent intertitles of "Prince Achmed" to their kids, and had a grand time. Every now and then, my niece stills asks me, "Uncle Doug, remember "Hedgehog in Fog"? She never says, "What was that weird movie you showed me with subtitles?"

Doug writes about film in our magazine and at his blog, Film Journey.

Dwelling In Possibility

We called Issue 14 Possible Worlds and it became a collection on what hope could create. The voices were varied - from incredible photographers, illustrators, musicians and writers to the birds in our alley -everyone had something to say about seeing what was possible.

Contributing Editor Deegy continues the conversation. He lives in Vancouver, working at a crisis shelter for youth.  He is a lover of community, music and art and can't kick the habit of cooking all things Jamie Oliver.

Dwelling In Possibility

I dwell in Possibility -
A fairer House than Prose -
More numerous of Windows -
Superior - for Doors -

Of Chambers as the Cedars -
Impregnable of Eye -
And for an Everlasting Roof -
The Gambrels of the Sky -

Of Visitors - the fairest -
For Occupation - This -
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise -

Emily Dickinson, American poet (1830-1886)

I escaped to a greasy spoon diner after work yesterday, had some eggs, sausage and toast, and finally cracked open the book, The Impossible Will Take A Little While, this time to forge past the introduction.  Diane Ackerman's essay A Slender Thread, around a call she fielded at a suicide hotline, really encouraged me.  She writes:

As Emikle Sola once said, some mornings you first have to swallow your toad of disgust before you can get on with the day. We choose to live. But suicidal people have tunnel vision - no other choice seems possible. A counselor's job is to put windows and doors in that tunnel.

Her thoughts struck home, as our shelter encounters many suicidal young people every month. A few of my co-workers have even chased some clients from the door to the nearest bridge and pulled them to safety. Thankfully, like Ackerman, we do have the opportunity to punch some holes of light into these tunnels of despair, and on the odd occasion have a chance to hear that some of these youth, at some point, do move beyond their suicidal ideations with some help and counselling. Last night, one youth I had worked with months earlier, who still drops by for food and to talk from time to time, stopped by in a drunken stupor to thank me for helping him find a counsellor who he really connects with. It was a strange encounter, knowing he was still dealing with much pain but was a little farther along since he first came to us, when he was so eager to jump off the nearest bridge.

I dwell in Possibility -
A fairer House than Prose -
More numerous of Windows -
Superior - for Doors -

Of Chambers as the Cedars -
Impregnable of Eye -
And for an Everlasting Roof -
The Gambrels of the Sky -

Of Visitors - the fairest -
For Occupation - This -
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise -

Emily Dickinson, American poet (1830-1886)

I escaped to a greasy spoon diner after work yesterday, had some eggs, sausage and toast, and finally cracked open the book, The Impossible Will Take A Little While, this time to forge past the introduction.  Diane Ackerman's essay A Slender Thread, around a call she fielded at a suicide hotline, really encouraged me.  She writes:

As Emikle Sola once said, some mornings you first have to swallow your toad of disgust before you can get on with the day. We choose to live. But suicidal people have tunnel vision - no other choice seems possible. A counselor's job is to put windows and doors in that tunnel.

Her thoughts struck home, as our shelter encounters many suicidal young people every month. A few of my co-workers have even chased some clients from the door to the nearest bridge and pulled them to safety. Thankfully, like Ackerman, we do have the opportunity to punch some holes of light into these tunnels of despair, and on the odd occasion have a chance to hear that some of these youth, at some point, do move beyond their suicidal ideations with some help and counselling. Last night, one youth I had worked with months earlier, who still drops by for food and to talk from time to time, stopped by in a drunken stupor to thank me for helping him find a counsellor who he really connects with. It was a strange encounter, knowing he was still dealing with much pain but was a little farther along since he first came to us, when he was so eager to jump off the nearest bridge.

Friday Roundup: brains

The All About feature in our issue on Beauty with an illustration by our friend Aaron Leighton.

Neuronatomist Jill Bolte Taylor talks about the insights gained during her own stroke. (18:44)

Games for the Brain

Savant Drawings (5:12)

Original Frankensteins: 4 and final bits.

Part 1.
Part 2.
Part 3.

The final two films in the conclusion of Doug's series on world animation:

• Motion Painting No. 1 (Oskar Fischinger, 1947) Fischinger was a pioneer of experimental, nonrepresentational animation (he was a major inspiration for Fantasia, a film he worked on before parting ways with Disney), and this final masterpiece is available on a DVD entitled Oskar Fischinger: Ten Films, an excellent introduction to his career.  Motion Painting No. 1 is like an oil painting come to life, with graceful lines and shapes growing and expanding frame by frame to Bach's majestic "Brandenburg Concerto no. 3."  In 1997, this visually arresting 11-minute short film was added to the US National Film Registry for culturally, historically or aesthetically significant films.

• Le Roi et l'oiseau (aka The King and the Mockingbird) (Paul Grimault, 1980) I kind of fibbed at the beginning of this article; I'm sneaking a European DVD in here for adventurous readers.  This film hasn't been released on video in North America, which is a crying shame since it's not only an exhilaratingly surreal fairy tale, but it was also a major influence on Takahata, Miyakazi, and legions of other filmmakers.  Witness the film's elaborately stylized castle, giant robot, sweet romanticism and lyrical beauty.  Sometimes copies of this show up on Ebay, or if you have a multi-region DVD player, you can order the French DVD from any number of e-tailers, but know that the DVD does not contain English subtitles.  However, the visual and narrative sweep are so compelling, they probably won't be missed.

Original Frankensteins continued: Part 3

Part 1.
Part 2.

Doug Cummings of Film Journey, the Beyond magazine feature and the blog, continues his recommendations on world animation.

• The Man Who Planted Trees (Frederic Back) Like ever-shifting color pencil sketches, Canadian Frederic Back's work comprises some of the most beautifully rendered and thematically sensitive filmmaking around.  This is merely one of his masterpieces, an enchanting fable about a man who single-handedly, through long years of quiet toil,  reforests an entire region in France, which immeasurably improves the lives of its inhabitants. Based on the story by Jean Giono, this classic short film boasts a sensitive English narration by Christopher Plummer.

• Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind (Hayao Miyazaki, 1984) Many Westerners know Miyazaki through his Academy Award-winning Spirited Away, but that's only the tip of the iceberg, and fortunately Disney has released a whole series of his films on DVD with good English dubs (for the little ones) as well as subtitles. My first exposure to his work was Nausicaa, his second feature and a sprawling science fiction epic of a post-apocalyptic world in which humans compete for dwindling resources against giant insects and destructive technologies.  So many of Miyazaki's themes are here: ecological harmony, the need for human cooperation, flying ships and air battles, and a messianic figure uniting the world.  The film was based on his manga, which he continued to write and illustrate well into the Nineties, which is available (and highly recommended) as a massive, much more elaborate seven-volume comic series.

• My Neighbors the Yamadas (Isao Takahata, 1999) Back to Takahata, who offers this brilliant and affectionate tribute to the modern nuclear family--think of it as The Simpsons with less scatological humor and much more heart.  Drawn with a wonderfully minimalist sketch style, this examination of the pratfalls, surprises, iconic situations, and paradoxes of family life manages to be hilarious without resorting to cynicism, and inspirational without resorting to sentimentality. If you've ever wondered what daily life is like in Japan, you might be surprised to discover how amazingly similar it is to your own.  A very special film.

(This series wraps up tomorrow.)

Original Frankensteins continued: Part 2

Part 1 here.

Doug of Film Journey continues his recommendations on world animation:

• Haibane Renmei (Yoshitoshi ABe, 2002) If Fireflies sets the standard for dramatic anime features, this astonishing 13-part miniseries--made for Japanese television--is the most novelistic anime I've seen. It's also a highly sophisticated spiritual allegory with a quiet lyricism worthy of such master filmmakers as Yasujiro Ozu and Robert Bresson. The protagonists are young girls mysteriously hatched from cocoons into a rustic village with its own system of rules, and the plot revolves around the girls coming to grips with their barely-remembered pasts, their relationships with each other, and their ultimate purposes in this new world. This is essential viewing; the series' creator, Yoshitoshi ABe, is definitely a filmmaker to keep an eye on.  (For more info, check out Beyond friend John Torvi's review, here.)

• The Hand (Jiri Trnka, 1965) Moving, for the moment, outside the Japanese film industry, this classic 18-minute short film by by a great Czech stop-motion animator is a scathing, allegorical critique of totalitarian orthodoxy. It's available as part of a collection of films entitled The Puppet Films of Jiri Trnka.  "Puppets" in this case are highly intricate figurines, and in The Hand, Trnka's last film, an anonymous Artist wants to create his art but a giant Hand demands that he sculpt a replica of itself. (If you'd rather watch the film online, click here.)

• Time Masters (aka The Masters of Time) (Rene Laloux, 1982) French animator Laloux made a name for himself with the psychedelic political allegory Fantastic Planet in the early '70s, and this later space opera (largely produced in Hungary) teams him up with the famed comics and movie illustrator "Moebius" (Heavy Metal magazine, Alien, TRON). A young boy is stranded on a remote planet buzzing with giant hornets, but an adventurer traveling through space comes to his rescue. The plot is perfunctory, but the imaginative settings and rich designs are combined with a funky art house vibe that lends it thorough originality.

Original Frankensteins Continued: Part 1

From Contributing Editor, Doug Cummings:

With every Film Journey article, I find myself in a space battle. That is, what to add and what to cut, to be brief but informative, in-depth but accessible. And my latest article was no exception.  In "Original Frankensteins," I comment on seven giants in world animation--Ladislaw Starewicz, Lotte Reiniger, Alexander Alexeieff, Yuri Norstein, Norman McLaren, Stan Brakhage, and Don Hertzfeldt--but could have included so many more major figures. Consider this post an addendum; here I briefly mention (alphabetically) ten more films currently available on DVD that represent the work of animation masters.  (So get your Netflix or Zip.ca or whatever queues ready...and don't hesitate to share your reactions and comments with Beyond.)

• Barefoot Gen (Mori Masaki, 1983) This adaptation of Keiji Nakazawa's famous autobiographical manga is based on his experience as a child in Hiroshima the day the atomic bomb was dropped. Though it doesn't shy away from relaying its share of eye-witnessed horrors--strikingly and nightmarishly illustrated--it also contains a surprising amount of broad, earthy humor and a strong critique of Japan's wartime political structure.

• Grave of the Fireflies (Isao Takahata, 1988) Though Takahata was co-founder of the popular Studio Ghibli with Hayao Miyazaki, he still remains the lesser known of the two filmmakers, which is unfortunate. Without downplaying Miyazaki's brilliance, it's safe to say that Takahata (who has a degree in French literature) has focused more on everyday subjects, mature themes, and visual experimentation, often to spectacular results. Fireflies, which tells the tragic story of two young WWII orphans trying to stay alive in firebombed Tokyo, is widely considered his masterpiece. With a depth and sensitivity equal to the best live action, this unforgettable film is a dramatic high point for the animation genre.

(More recommendations tomorrow.)

Beyond magazine content: Continued.

Sometimes there is only so much that we can place in the paper version of the magazine and we are happy to continue to share our content here at the Beyond blog. All this week Doug Cummings our Film Journey writer adds to "Film Journey: Original Frankensteins" which appeared in Issue 16: Small. Enjoy and feel free to add your thoughts.

The truest of things.

You may have read our interview with hip hop artist K'naan in the latest issue of Beyond. His thoughts on doing "more deleting and less saving" when learning about other cultures are still with us as we work on other bits for upcoming magazines.

After traveling in Mali for a few days, K'naan spoke of making music with local artists.  In this video (Wrap Up) he speaks of being inspired:

This is the right vibe. Good spirit. Good people. A  community of serious musicians who live for the music, who live for sound you know. A lot of people I've met are not necessarily thinking of platinum records or anything like this. They just live to make some music. They live to make sound. They travel around the world and meet other musicians and have clever little things to show to each other. Very passionate about their thing. This is where you find the truest of things in a way. It's not connected to commerce. I'm not mad at making money but it can't be that you create something genuine if your beginning is thinking about the outcome of a financial kind of gain from that thing that you create. At least, it's not going to be art.