MUSEUM OF MOVING IMAGE
When we visited the Museum of Moving Image, we were taken on a brief tour of most of the exhibits, and were given an opportunity to participate in a couple of hands-on experiences. We first visited the camera exhibit, which was divided into two parts: film cameras, and TV cameras. While I'd known there were differences in how a movie was filmed vs. how a show was filmed, there was one particular fact that stood out to me that I hadn't given much thought before: film required, well, film, while TV broadcasted electronically. While the cameras used for movies were generally a reasonable size, the cameras used for TV were huge. I imagine that's because of the massive CRTs they needed to operate. The other thing that I found interesting was how technicolor worked; two strips of black and white film (sensitive to red and blue light) were overlayed behind a red and blue color filter, while a third strip was fed into the mechanism separately (behind a green filter). It looked super complicated and intricate, but the color itself that was projected from the film and filters was quite stunning.
Another thing that should've been common sense but didn't actually click until it was explained was the necessity of life masks when creating facial prosthetics for actors to wear. Clearly, makeup art can be incredibly intricate and time-consuming, especially when doing highly detailed work. Why I had envisioned that an actor would be willing to sit in a chair for six hours every day they had to shoot a scene while the MUAs did their thing, I'll never know.
While there, I had played around with one of the zoetropes on display. We'd already learned a bit about zoetropes (and how the persistence of vision creates the illusion of motion) in class, but it was neat to actually see it in person and experience it for myself. Another thing that I enjoyed wasn't a hands-on demo, but rather part of a documentary that showed just how complicated it is/was to effectively maneuver Jim Henson's Muppets, particularly the large ones that required multiple people to move various features and parts of their body. I also watched other people participate in a few things, the coolest of all being ADR; folks trying to get their voices to line up with the mouth movements of the actor was pretty hilarious.
SEQUENCE ANALYSIS
WNTTAK from Sarah Reysen on Vimeo.
The rest of this scene plays out with much less abrupt cuts, starting with a medium shot of Kevin. We then transition to a medium close-up of his face along with Eva's disembodied hand. This is followed by a jump directly into an extreme close-up of Kevin's mouth as the audience gets clued into the heinous plans he hopes to enact before the weekend. The camera is then placed much further away, facing him at about a 45° angle from the back. We're then treated to a long shot of Kevin as he glares at where the rest of his family has seemingly congregated without him before the door closes, ending the scene.
SOUNDWALK
Astoria is my neighborhood. It's where I was born, it's where I was raised. I've lived here for 22 of my 25 years on earth. Yet I've never taken the time to fully appreciate it, to take in the atmosphere just for the sake of it. So I decided to take a mid-morning walk.
There was a divide: in some parts of the neighborhood, there was little activity, and so I mostly heard birds chirping, cars passing by, and the wind blowing leaves across the sidewalk. In the more populated area, there was a cacophony that made it hard to concentrate: chattering crowds waiting in line for brunch, clanging silverware in the outdoor eateries, idling garbage trucks, honking horns, motorcycles tearing through the streets, children yelling and laughing simultaneously, music blaring from cars and storefronts... trying to pay attention to them all that once was an overwhelming experience. Despite that, some sounds stuck out to me. One of the most distinct was that of St. Joseph's church bells, which rang every hour, on the hour, but at other times, too. There was also the horn of the freight train that passed by shortly after I began my walk, something I only occasionally hear at night. Remember that line anticipating brunch that I mentioned? Nobody could ignore the booming voice of the man standing outside, joking with the patrons and corralling them in when their tables were ready.
While I know I've heard all these sounds before, I always try to tune them out. It was interesting to purposely listen to them for once, although I'm not sure I'd do it again - it was difficult to "slow down psychologically" when so much was happening all at once. Maybe a soundwalk in a different neighborhood would be more relaxing.
There was a divide: in some parts of the neighborhood, there was little activity, and so I mostly heard birds chirping, cars passing by, and the wind blowing leaves across the sidewalk. In the more populated area, there was a cacophony that made it hard to concentrate: chattering crowds waiting in line for brunch, clanging silverware in the outdoor eateries, idling garbage trucks, honking horns, motorcycles tearing through the streets, children yelling and laughing simultaneously, music blaring from cars and storefronts... trying to pay attention to them all that once was an overwhelming experience. Despite that, some sounds stuck out to me. One of the most distinct was that of St. Joseph's church bells, which rang every hour, on the hour, but at other times, too. There was also the horn of the freight train that passed by shortly after I began my walk, something I only occasionally hear at night. Remember that line anticipating brunch that I mentioned? Nobody could ignore the booming voice of the man standing outside, joking with the patrons and corralling them in when their tables were ready.
While I know I've heard all these sounds before, I always try to tune them out. It was interesting to purposely listen to them for once, although I'm not sure I'd do it again - it was difficult to "slow down psychologically" when so much was happening all at once. Maybe a soundwalk in a different neighborhood would be more relaxing.
ARTIST STATEMENT
Let me preface this: I'm
not an artist. Not yet, at least. Maybe someday, but let me not get ahead of myself
here. I’m but an undergrad student with a background rooted in the application
and theory of “soft”/social science. For most of my life, I've been obsessed
with knowing why things work, rather than how they
work. I’ve spent so much time analyzing the work of other people and leaving it
at that, when I could just as well be drawing from them and creating something
of my own; it’s not like I don’t fantasize about it all the time, being a
creator, an innovator, an actual multimedia
artist.
As a matter of fact, I find myself
inspired by practically everything, from stories to music to conversations
heard in passing to even the more mundane aspects of everyday life. (But
especially music, if I’m being honest – a resonating song can turn into a scene
that plays in the back of my mind as I listen.) I’m in a constant state of fascination
with the world and the people in it, even if it’s not always necessarily the good sort of fascination. I want to
touch upon as many things as I can with what I make – both the real and the
surreal, the logical and the absurd, the good, the bad, the ugly. I want my
work to be layered, to be textured; I want it to feel modular, where every individual
piece has a specific purpose on its own as well as in the larger picture, even
if that purpose has no deeper meaning than “it looks good next to this other
piece.”
I’m not yet an artist. But maybe
someday I will be. At the very least, I could say I gave this whole “creativity”
thing a shot.
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