music video type inspiration

Mint Chicks - Enemies from Ruban Nielson on Vimeo.

visuals

development

actual
ideaideaideaidea:
a narrative visual expression of music
(a music video)
with a song made by my friend taylor, living in portland, known as quietly bright

the song is here:
http://www.myspace.com/quietlybright

it's called "spirit"


taylor wrote a story with another one of my friends, ben, and the story became a song
(i'll post the original story once it gets e-mailed to me [tonight])
the story was written with the song and visuals in mind
the song and the story and the visuals are sum parts of a total idea
a multifaceted expression

the story (as i've heard it) is a pretty straightforward (albiet strange) narrative, but my purpose
in doing this project is less the perfect realization of a specific narrative and more about process.
the intended, overall message of the project, to me, is encouraging others not to limit themselves creatively -
to write stories or songs that are absurd, don't make sense, don't follow typical structures
to make things and not worry about illusory ideas of good and bad, but to indulge
in creativity, as an end, not a means. i think taylor's song is kinda weird in a lot of places, and i have
an attraction/repulsion reaction to most of the sounds in the song, because they are, for the most part,
electronically generated using a keyboard or a computer, and i think they definitely sound like that kind of
source, which i want to categorize as uninspired or lacking in creative ambition. but my attraction comes in the
way that taylor embraces those sounds and finds them liberating instead of limiting. my attraction comes in
his sincerity, making sounds and noises that may sound cheesy or funny and embracing that potential cheesiness or that humor. i know it's because i know taylor, and i know his facial expressions and mannerisms, but when he sings "i don't know" "i know" i can see his face, and i can see how he makes those sounds, and it's impossible to make those sounds without committing to it. you can't make them while winking, or with your tongue in your cheek. you have to stick your lips out and suck your cheeks in and feel it in your throat.

to me, the most exciting art happens along thin lines, or borders between (seeming) opposing sides, like good and bad, adult and childlike, political and private. i'm willing to try to walk those lines, to not feel like i always gotta be walking toward "good" art (aesthetically solid, conceptually airtight?) but maybe roll around in the "bad" too, maybe tiptoe along the border, maybe figure out there's no border at all, that there's no difference. the point is, i'm willing to accept whatever happens, to create and deal with the results and create some more. i'm not working project to project. my art is not riding on one assignment. my creative horizons aren't limited by expectations. i think if you're willing to explore, to pursue creation and make the rest up as you go along, you'll find the details fall into place, or fall of the map, or do whatever is that they're gonna do.

for my final project, i will complete the visual component of this idea,
with the collaborative input of other people interested in the creation
of the visuals and the total project. the visuals will be a collage of
hand drawn components, stop motion photographic animation,
video footage, and digital manipulation

creative sessions will be held with all interested individuals, and materials (construction paper, blank paper, magic markers, ink, paint, brushes, pens, pencils, sticks, camera) will be supplied
toward the creation of visual building blocks, to be constructed by me, later, in final cut

constructors:
ben pierce
monica brown
colby painter

each person will get a segment or segments of the song to visually represent

creative sessions will be held:
thursday 16 (video footage will be planned this day)
sunday 19 (video footage will be shot this day)
tuesday 21 (if necessary, future sessions will be scheduled on this day)

ideas

one: pointing. the camera points. the operator selects from the world and with the camera points. a series of pointings - wide shots which include context zoomed into tight shots which exclude context and emphasize subject, or object. representing the deliberate action of selection.

two: motion and light. an aesthetic study of light in motion, created by various types and temperatures of light filtered through objects and surfaces of varying movement, form, and opacity.

three: burning all illusions: experimental propaganda, a visual and auditory guide to self help and the search for meaning, as well as exploiting the human capacity for bewilderment. the only adventure left. on: making choices, self-determinism, the scheduled appearance of hallucinatory visuals, appropriation, distortion, and hoping truth shows up.

with the moon

the main, only character is lying on the ground, below the trees, below the sky, below the moon, having a conversation. he is engaged in a conversation about himself and his dreams. he is having a conversation about himself and his dreams in order to understand his self. he speaks to the moon, and the moon speaks through the wind, or perhaps not at all. perhaps he is only thinking, but as he stares at the moon, he imagines the moon is speaking, too. he imagines the moon is speaking, too, because it is easier to answer to an outside voice than to himself. he does not understand the inner language of his self yet, so he uses a perceived other to probe him from outside. the moon's questions give contour to the borders of his self. the moon's questions find doors and pathways which lead inward, toward the inner geography of his self. the wind caresses the physical border of his self, his skin, separating him from the ground and the leaves and the trees and the moon and also the wind. but in his mind, he is the moon, speaking to him from the sky, so he is not separate at all, because he speaks through the moon, and he touches his own skin with the wind. the moon asks him who he is, and he cannot answer, because he does not know. his lips open to respond, by instinct, but he has no sounds to push through his mouth. his eyes are open. he has been staring at the moon for some time. the moon thinks for a second, strategizing some other way to know this person. the moon asks "what do you dream of?" this time, he is not dumbstruck. he recalls his dreams in his mind, brief fragments of dream memory, from the previous night, as well as recurring images, scenes that have played out many times in the sleepy theatre of his mind. he is having sex with a beautiful girl. he is a passenger in a car driving on an endless highway, towards a vague but pressing destination. the driver has been his mother, an ex-girlfriend, and a shadowed figure, obscured by his mind. he is bathed in feathers and light. he is thrown into the water. he is sitting on a hill, overlooking an endless landscape, in a place he has never been. he opens his eyes, and the moon is silent.

colby's memory

The ground cools my bare arms, my bare legs, my bare neck, which glow with a radiant warmth given by an afternoon of sun shone directly onto my skin. My eyes are closed but I can feel the moonlight press down upon the lids, drawing my eyelashes inward, toward dreams of stars projected by my brain. A midnight breeze rolls lightly through the curls in my hair, falls over my forehead, kisses my lips, ruffles my shirt. An engine grumbles past, coughing along the pavement, malcontent and impatient.

I hear a voice.

The voice is a presence of indeterminate origin, but whether it comes from within or without, from now or beyond, above or below, it is familiar. The voice is made of words I know, ideas I recognize, dreams I have had, desires I understand. This voice is my heart, this voice is my brother, this voice is myself, this voice is the voice, speaking the only words that can be spoken. The voice is a lullaby, but I do not fall asleep. This voice is a lullaby that awakens me from a dream and draws me further into this moment. I am the branches above me, and the sky above the branches, and the stars above the sky, and the possibility beyond the stars.

re: manifesto

I felt vulnerable. When reaching out, there's always uncertainty and fear, because others always have the choice whether to accept or reject the invitation. I felt vulnerable, but I think that's ultimately the position I want to put myself into, because the underlying idea of my manifesto is inclusiveness, to work together as a community which shares common beliefs. If I'm not vulnerable, how can I expect anyone to accept my invitation to cross the distance that divides us. I have to be willing, first, to offer myself completely, in the midst of all my uncertainty and fear, to show that I am not afraid, and that I am certain of the way forward, which is together.

I'm very interested in creating work like Jill referenced - the early 60's get a bunch of friends together with whatever material we got and whatever location we can find and make something happen. I think I know enough excited, creative, willing people to make something happen, and more specifically to make something happen that we want to share with others. The other, integral, part of the manifesto is the sharing - communication, having something to say, something worth saying and worth sharing