Sunday, February 24, 2019

Axe City - three



Ext. Toronto downtown. Day

The  youngish man trudges along the slush-soupy sidewalk. Out of the corner of his eye, the brick red ziggurat of the Metro Toronto Reference Library. On an impulse (telling himself he has to use the washroom), he enters.

Ont. The library. Day.

A moment later.

In the vast atrium, people are everywhere at a series of communal desks. They are students, mainly. A group he not only belonged to not so long ago, but that he keeps phasing in and out of.





Axe City, two


Ext. Street, downtown Toronto. Day.

The youngish man emerges from a subway station that’s connected to an aging but still popular shopping mall. Grayness is everywhere: inside the building and on the noisy, slush-soaked street. But so is the busyness; the chronic energy of the city.

The young man walks down the street.


Sunday, February 17, 2019

Finn Harvor - art CV (abridged)

CURRICULUM VITAE

FINN HARVOR


I am a writer, artist, film-maker and occasional musician. I have had art-work in several group shows, mounted two solo shows, written and performed stage work which was in turn videotaped, and made my own movies. My interest in art-and-text work goes back many years, initially to involvement with underground comics (bandes dessinées).

As a professional writer, I have published articles in several Canadian, Korean, British and American publications (both online and in print). My freelance career has spanned many years, and I have worked in many mediums: from writing to radio broadcasting to script-writing for films and theatre. Academically, I have presented papers to conferences in Jember (Indonesia), Helsinki, Kuala Lumpur, Osaka, and Oxford, and have written on Thomas De Quincey, William Blake, Yoon Heung-gil and Richard Kim, as well as analyses of changes currently taking place in the publishing industry. I have proofread children's books in Korea and edited countless student essays.

Below is a selection of my accomplishments.

SmartFilm Website
Dec. 31/18
Link to “Portrait of C”, as well as poster art for three other projects.

InShort Film Festival
Lago, Nigeria
Sheraton Hotel, Lagos
December 17/19
Fourteen movies selected as semi-finalists with laurels, including “The Violence of Sadness” and “Meat”
[Only finalists screened]

Athens International Video Poetry Film Festival (Athens, Greece)
Winter 2018 (December 17, 2018)
Screening of "Portrait of C" [finalist]

North by Northeast [curated gallery event]
December 7, 2018, London, UK
Screening of “Meat”

North Bellarine Film Festival
November 16, 2018
Drysdale
Screening of “Makin' Shelter”

Conference on the Image
November 2, 2018
Hong Kong, Baptist University
Pop-up gallery
screening of “Insects' World” [premiere]

Rabbitheart Film Festival
Worcester, Massachussetts
Autumn 2018
Screening of “The Wargasm” [curators' choice]

O'Bheal Videopoetry Festival,
Autumn, 2018
October 14, 2018, Cork, Ireland
Screening of “Portrait of C” [finalist]

O'Bheal Videopoetry Festival, Cork, Ireland
Autumn, 2018
October 14, 2018, Cork, Ireland
Screening of “The Violence of Sadness II” [finalist]

The Silk Road Videopoetry Festival
June 21, 2018
National Library of the Republic of Kazakhstan, Almaty
Screening of “The Violence of Sadness II” [finalist]

Athens International Video Poetry Film Festival (Athens, Greece)
Winter 2017/2018 (January 19/20, 2018)
Screening of "The War on Smog" [finalist]

MIX Conference, Bath Spa University
Bath, UK.  (July 10 - 12, 2017)
Screening of "The Carpet 1" [finalist]

MIX Conference, Bath Spa University
Bath, UK.  (July 10 - 12, 2017)
Presentation: "Feeling Need" (July 10)

MIX Conference, Bath Spa University
Bath, UK.  (July 10 - 12, 2017)
Presentation: "Toward an art of the Anthropocene" (July 12)

Poetry Film Live
Bristol, UK (spring, 2017)
Online screening, publication of Refugee-ism.

Society of Comparative Literature (Seoul, South Korea)
October, 2016
Screening of "Sound into World"

Athens Poetry Film Festival (Athens, Greece)
Autumn, 2016
Screening of "Baram CVII" [finalist]


Pacifism21, 15 January 2016

“Narratives of Ignorance”. An article on North Korea and its perceptions in Western media

link:

http://pacifism21.org/narratives-of-ignorance-how-we-fail-to-see-north-korea


Pacifism21, 25 January 2016

“Yi Mun-yol's literary appointment with North Korea”. An article on Korean writer Yi Mun-yol.

link:

http://pacifism21.org/yi-mun-yol-literary-appointment-with-north-korea


Rabbit Heart poetry film festival, October 2015. Four videopoems screened as non-finalists.

“Conversations in the Book Trade”

Articles, short stories, and poems published in many publications, including The Canadian Forum, This Magazine, The Brooklyn Rail, Eclectica, Former People, and elsewhere.

Conference presentations to academic conferences in Oxford, Bath, Liverpool, Berlin, Dubrovnik, Osaka, Youngju, Seoul, and Hingston Kong.

An ongoing online project comprised mainly of interviews with publishers and critics, including Phil Marchand and Judy Stoffman of the Toronto Star (separate interviews), Ian Brown of the Globe and Mail, TVO and CBC, Richard Nash of Soft Skull Press, Fred Ramey of Unbridled Books, Jennifer Barnes of Raw Dog Screaming Press, Jennifer Banash of Impetus Press, Bev Daurio of Mercury Press, and Scott Esposito of Conversational Reading, among many others. The site has received mention, among elsewhere, in the literary blog of Peter Stothard, the editor of the Book Section of the London Times.

http://conversationsinthebooktrade.blogspot.com [original site]

Other

I have also worked won grants and awards from the Canada Council, Ontario Arts Council and Toronto Arts Council, The Hart House Review and Arthur (the newspaper of Trent University). I have a BA (Cultural Studies) from Trent University, and an MA (Interdisciplinary Studies) from York University. I am working on three interlinked novel manuscripts, and have had group and solo shows of my art.

Hong Kong, stills



Wednesday, February 13, 2019

Axe City - a screenplay story



Fade in.

TORONTO. EXT. LATE DAY.

It is close to quitting time for most of the city's office workers. But for others -- a special sub-group of wage-slavery -- the day is just beginning.


KIPLING SUBWAY STATION. INT. LATE DAY.

A middle aged man (who does not look middle age) makes his way toward the subway platform.



Sunday, February 10, 2019

Brian Fawcett - novelist, poet, critic, magazine publisher




Brian Fawcett - novelist, poet, critic, magazine publisher
[Interview conducted in October, 2012-revised in 2019]
 
1 V. S. Naipaul declared there are not any important writers anymore, Philip Roth predicted the novel will become a cult activity, Peter Stothard has asked if fiction writing simply used to be better, Cullen Murphy, David Shields, Lee Seigel, and Geoff Dyer have all stated that non-fiction is superior to fiction. The list of people of letters who apparently have lost faith in literary fiction goes on and on; it is clear that an elementary questioning of the novel is not a passing cultural phase. Furthermore, the short story seems to be under siege as well: many agents and multinational publishers do not handle/publish story collections, small magazines seem perpetually underfunded, and a YouTube-ification of text and image seems to be taking short narrative in new directions.

What is your opinion? Do the novel and the short story have a future?

First of all, Naipaul was right, and Roth was, too. I think that the novel already is a cult activity, one that has become an economic cult among publishers and writing schools. Hard to say what Peter Stothard is on about, but it seems to me that the best fiction writing is being done for television limited series, and that it’s as good as any fiction ever written. We’re experiencing both technological change and cultural shiftings, so of course everything is changing.

The simple answer is that the novel hasn’t had much of a future since the invention of motion pictures, and the short story has been on borrowed since the invention of television. And then there’s non-fiction, which is perhaps the most epistemologically silly and at the same time most unambitious commercial genre publishers have imposed on writers. What does “non-fiction” mean? That by default, the genre it describes must be factual and true? That writers are thinking in those brainless commercial terms is shameful and self-destructive.

It’s shameful because we’re accepting the terms of an industry so incompetent  that it has managed to turn books into the least valued cultural item produced by Western civilization, and it’s self-destructive because we’ve let industrial book publishers turn writers into museum widgets while we’re still living and breathing.  

A part of this is the imposition, during the post-Soviet capitalist ecstacy of self-congratulation, of the marketplace as the sole model for cultural and educational activities. That has transformed most fiction writing into arid exercises in conventional behavior—trying to please novel-reading little old ladies who want to escape their dowdy lives with Robert McKee-grade mechanical nonsense. The other part, as hinted above,  is a more or less inevitable degradation of the importance of written literature in the face of technology-driven forms of narrative—television series drama (which is approaching a golden age), motion pictures, the Internet, and really, the nightly news, which has writers making up arbitrary narratives about how human reality is unfolding, and at a minute-by-minute speed that authenticates it as fact to the unwary. I’m not a supporter of Donald Trump, but he’s onto something with “fake news”.  I’ve been saying for decades that most news is at very least ideologically constructed and at worst systematically falsified.

All the evidence suggests that what people think of as “literature”—the novel and the short story as cultural artifacts—will end up as a minor heritage activity with little or no cultural impact. I’m probably closest to the position David Shields has, which is that both fiction AND non-fiction are epistemological absurdities, and that the boundary between them was always a cultural illusion, one that we should get over.

I think there IS a way of writing that does have cultural relevance: it’s in that edge of postmodernism that never got far beyond the experimental and the precious, but which I still think holds all of postmodernism’s mineral core, where writers seek a paratactic depth and transparency that allows readers to move as quickly as the human mind now naturally moves while being completely clear about where the contents are coming from and how they’re being deployed. I’ve probably written about 15-20 passages across my various books that succeed at this. It’s really hard work, but it’s also a huge amount of fun. The Spanish writer, Javier Cercas, is probably the most successful writer who regularly achieves this, most recently with Anatomy of a Moment

Will e-technology alter the very forms of the Novel and short story? If so, how?

I think electronic technology has already altered the forms with movies and series television. If you’re talking about E-technology as e-books or screen-reading on the Internet, that’s a more complex issue. E-books work, sort of, and they’ll get better, maybe, and so they might even end up supplanting 20-30 percent of the paper-based book trade. That’s quite a lot less than people thought it would get a few years ago, and the paper-based book trade itself has shrunk noticeably during that time for a raft of reasons that have nothing to do with the presence of E-books.
Personally, I don’t see any of those artifactual and industrial issues as terribly consequential. There remain lots of interesting sentences to be written, and an infinity of worthwhile thoughts to think and to string together into coherence, and that’s what writers need to be thinking about.

A serious danger, meanwhile, lies in the activities of Google and the text mash-up crowd, who are going to, if they get what they want, undermine the evidential and referential systems upon which Western civilization is based.  What’s at risk here is something a hell of a lot more important than books and book publishing: at risk is the rule of law and our judicial systems, which can’t operate without rigorous rules of evidence, precedent, and authorship. What happens to individual authorship is an element in this, but the fate of “literature” isn’t. How e-books will change conventional novels is relatively speaking, also of small moment. Literature and some of its forms are relevant solely because it remains the most effective device for long-form thinking that exists outside scientific research collectives. And long-form thinking is what got human beings most of the good things civilization has created. If we lose it, we’re just a bunch of over-sized baboons, monkeys and lemmings.  Or denizens of a Google campus. 

2 Are the very significant structural changes taking place in the publishing industry having an effect on novel or short story writing? If so, how?

The imposition of the market model is winnowing out writers or publishers who aren’t terminally conventional or independently wealthy. And it’s contributing to the general dumbing down of readers. The current publishing system is both intellectually and economically incompetent, which may be why it’s in a state of collapse.

3. Is the cutting back of mid-lists and a general cautiousness about taking risks on new or relatively unknown writers affecting the caliber of writing that does manage to get into print?

That isn’t quite what’s happening. Before you even get there, you have to address the ongoing problem of over-production across the publishing industry, the most telling and accurate emblem of which is that if you find a box abandoned on a street corner, the box is most likely to be filled with books. Second, inside the industrial model, there are plenty of nuances. Mid-list is a highly moveable feast, one that shifts year-to-year. It’s been a big boon for the last decade to young writers coming out of the creative writing factories, because they’ve primarily been taught how to market themselves, and how to be acceptably conventional. More recently,  minority writers, (in Canada, particularly aboriginalwriters) have been having lots of publishing success, if not always sales success. Publishers are desperately looking for “new, fresh writers” because that’s novelty is a fashionable marketing category, particularly inside a system that’s dysfunctional. But really, if, as a writer, you’re just trying to get laid by the market, why not do real estate, where there’s real money to be made?

4 Do you have an author's website? Does it help you sell books?

No, and no. But I do recognize that it has become the equivalent of having a Visa card: if you don’t have one, you lose elements of full citizenship. My test for this is simple.  Can you find an author’s website that isn’t so crudded with self-congratulation and exaggeration that you feel like barfing after 20 seconds?

5 How do you feel about running an author's website? Do you feel it’s a labour of love or an annoying imposition? Or something else altogether?

I don’t have one, so I can’t say. But I’d think putting one up and updating it every time someone winks at you has to be an ongoing humiliation for any sane writer. Author websites are kind of poster children for the venality of the Internet. Blowing your own horn, once upon a time, automatically got you a reputation as an asshole. I’ve got better things to do than to spend my days secretly updating my Wikipedia entry, or trying to pump smoke up people’s behinds with an author website.  
 
6 Is the selection system for novel and short story manuscripts fair? Should it be made blind?


No, and No. On the first question, no, because it can’t ever be fair. Human beings are social, and thus gossip and sleep with one another and talk and think and do elementary detective work, and so pretending that you’re blind doesn’t work, as anyone who’s ever been on a literary jury knows very well. No to the second question because the alternative to having authors judge one another is to put it in the hands of bureaucrats and their systems. That’s the last thing we should do with literature.

I’ve been on several juries with a blind manuscript selection process. The reality is that the jurors all know who 2/3rds of the writers are, because good writers write distinctive sentences. As a juror I went out of my way to point that out, along with who most of the writers in the competition were. That got me permanently blacklisted from subsequent literary jury duty, but it did get the best manuscripts on the table.

Rick Salutin once remarked that there are only about 900 people in Canada, and that they all know one another—or should. He was talking about Canada as a cultural community. You can foam at the mouth about how shocking and appalling this is, but it won’t change it, and if you erect a bureaucracy aimed at preventing it, you’ll end up in Stalin’s lap with a bunch of tight-assed dickheads telling us what to think and say and do, and there’ll still only be 900 people in the country—and this time, they’ll all be bureaucrats and commissars. We’re not far off that right now, actually.

7 According to media reports, e-book sales now represent a significant percentage of overall sales.


They’re lying about this if they’re still claiming that. And it doesn’t matter, anyway. Small bookstores, when they still existed, saw e-books as a threat to their survival, but they were wrong. The real enemies in Canada were Heather Reisman and Amazon—in that order. Reisman went out of her way to destroy the independent bookselling sector, and has subsequently—mostly out of indifference—has helped bankrupt many of the small publishers in the country, and to turn the funding agencies against them.  There’s no really pleasant future scenario for any of this, but at the same time, it isn’t as dire as it seems. Print people, it turns out, aren’t going get old and die, and there remain lots of reason for publishing books—just not to get rich and/or famous by doing it.

8. Are you enthusiastic about e-books?

No. But not for the reasons you might guess. What worries me about the e-book industry, and its ugly twin electronic self-publishing, is that it will put an end to the editing of books. That would be an intellectual catastrophe, because many self-published e-books right now are really just long blogs, which is to say, they’re mostly unedited. You can see the effect of this already in the U.S. where publishers—even the major ones—are demanding that books arrive already edited. That’s a terribly slippery slope.

9. Do they hold the potential for a renaissance in literary publishing?

Only if you believe in the old Kerouac “Firstthoughtbestthought universe, which I think may have been the greatest disaster to have befallen intellectual life in the late 20th century. I happen to love being edited, for the simple reason that two minds are always better than one.

10. Or are they over-rated and too susceptible to piracy?

I don’t care about ratings or piracy. I care about the demise of editing. That’s a cultural catastrophe.

11. What do you think of literary prizes? As Jason Cowley has commented, they reduce our culture's ability to think in a critically complex fashion? Do they suggest, “this book is worth reading and all these others aren't?”

That isn’t the problem with prize culture. The problem with it is that prizes always reward conventional behavior. And that has led to a situation where books being published are run through the prize mills, and if they don’t get nominations or wins, the publishers abandon them, and the morons who run the chain bookstores, people who have expertise in marketing are people who don’t read, and so don’t order them. Meanwhile, the books that win prizes nearly all disappear within a few years, because they’re conventional and mediocre. This is, by the way, more true in Canada than in any country in the English-speaking world, and it’s become utterly toxic. We need to worry less about prizes and more about the stupidization of the public realm that this is part of.

12. Philip Marchand once stated, “Not even the most fervent partisans of Canadian literature will say that Canadians have done fundamentally new things with the novel form, or changed the way we read in the manner, say, of a Joyce, a Kafka, a Nabokov, or a Garcia Marquez. Marchand is correct as far as *perceptions* go; Canadian writing is not considered formally or stylistically groundbreaking. However, is this in fact the case when one regards our de facto production? What examples can you think of (including your own work) which would suggest otherwise?

I know and respect Phil, but he does read with eye-flaps on, and with a fixation on the novel as a form of expression.  There’s lots of experimental Canadian writing.  I’m guessing you never saw Gender Wars: A Novel & Some Conversation about Sex and Gender: 1994, Somerville House. If you want radical with the novel form, that has it, in both content and graphic representation. But it didn’t succeed as “prize” fiction, because the critics didn’t know how classify it? Was it fiction? Yes, some of it was. Was it non-fiction, Yes, a lot of it was. What they couldn’t handle was that it was as crazy as it gets and travels at four times the speed of most novels. I also thought that Ondaatje’s Coming Through Slaughter, George Bowering’sBurning Water and later, Pinboy and Barbara Gowdy’s We So Seldom Look on Love were ground-breaking by any International standard. Phil’s beef is with the Jane Urquhart/later Ondaatje universe, along with every nominee/winner of the Giller since it began, of which his description is accurate. What he doesn’t say (even though he knows the truth) is that conventionality is what literary prize culture begets.

12. What are you working on now that you're excited about?



The Epic of Gilgamesh According to Enkidu, where the production issue is whether or not I can know enough to be able to finish it. I could finish it as conventional literature, but I'm just not a temple priest, and they’re the ones who wrote all the other versions of the epic. I’m trying to figure out what they didn’t say, which what Enkidu saw and thought, and what he knew about Gilgamesh. 

Saturday, February 09, 2019

Baram Writer - stills and video link

These are from a series of nature videos entitled the "Baram" series. Some of the text in these movies is quite short; rather like a form of haiku. Furthermore, I also experiment with language, and sometimes split up words from one language (or more) in order to create new word combinations, and therefore new “language ideas”.

The movie is also an "authorial movie" -- that is, it is a work with literary qualities (It has a poem in it), and it is also a solitary production. That is, it is a movie in which one person did all the work, and as a result, the movie reflects the sensibility of one individual rather than a group (as is the norm in movie-making).

*

Celles-ci sont tirées d'une série de vidéos sur la nature intitulées "Baram". Une partie du texte de ces films est assez courte. plutôt comme une forme de haïku. De plus, j’expérimente également le langage et sépare parfois des mots d’une langue (ou plus) afin de créer de nouvelles combinaisons de mots, et donc de nouvelles «idées de langage».


Le film est aussi un "film d'auteur", c’est-à-dire qu’il s’agit d’une œuvre aux qualités littéraires (il contient un poème) et qu’il s’agit également d’une production solitaire. C’est-à-dire qu’il s’agit d’un film dans lequel une seule personne a fait tout le travail et, par conséquent, le film reflète la sensibilité d’un individu plutôt que celle d’un groupe (comme c’est la norme dans la réalisation de films).

*

Questi sono tratti da una serie di video naturalistici intitolati alla serie "Baram". Parte del testo di questi film è piuttosto breve; piuttosto come una forma di haiku. Inoltre, ho anche sperimentato il linguaggio e talvolta ho diviso le parole da una lingua (o più) per creare nuove combinazioni di parole e quindi nuove "idee linguistiche".


Il film è anche un "film d'autore" - cioè, è un lavoro con qualità letterarie (contiene un poema), ed è anche una produzione solitaria. Cioè, è un film in cui una persona ha fatto tutto il lavoro e, di conseguenza, il film riflette la sensibilità di un individuo piuttosto che di un gruppo (come è la norma nel film).

*

Estos son de una serie de videos de la naturaleza titulados "Baram". Parte del texto en estas películas es bastante corto; más bien como una forma de haiku. Además, también experimento con el lenguaje y, a veces, divido las palabras de un idioma (o más) para crear nuevas combinaciones de palabras y, por lo tanto, nuevas "ideas de lenguaje".


La película es también una "película de autor", es decir, es una obra con cualidades literarias (tiene un poema) y también es una producción solitaria. Es decir, es una película en la que una persona hizo todo el trabajo y, como resultado, la película refleja la sensibilidad de un individuo en lugar de un grupo (como es la norma en la realización de películas).

*

이들은 "Baram"시리즈라는 일련의 자연 영상물에서 나온 것입니다. 이 영화의 일부 텍스트는 매우 짧습니다. 오히려 하이쿠의 형태와 같습니다. 또한, 나는 또한 언어를 실험하고 때로는 하나의 언어 (또는 그 이상의 언어)에서 단어를 분리하여 새로운 단어 조합을 만들어 새로운 "언어 아이디어"를 만듭니다.


이 영화는 "저작 영화"이기도합니다. 즉, 문학적 자질을 가진 작품 (그것은 시가 있습니다)이며, 독창적 인 작품이기도합니다. 즉, 한 사람이 모든 작업을 한 영화이기 때문에 결과적으로 영화는 그룹이 아닌 한 개인의 감성을 반영합니다 (영화 제작의 표준처럼).

*

Это из серии видеороликов о природе под названием «Барам». Часть текста в этих фильмах довольно короткая; скорее как форма хайку. Кроме того, я также экспериментирую с языком и иногда разделяю слова из одного языка (или более), чтобы создать новые словосочетания и, следовательно, новые «языковые идеи».


Фильм также является «авторским фильмом», то есть произведением с литературными качествами (в нем есть стихотворение), а также одиночным спектаклем. То есть это фильм, в котором всю работу выполнял один человек, и в результате фильм отражает чувствительность одного человека, а не группы (что является нормой в создании фильмов).

*

これらは「バラム」シリーズと題する一連の自然のビデオからのものです。 これらの映画の一部のテキストはかなり短いです。 俳句の形のように。 さらに、私は言語でも実験し、新しい単語の組み合わせ、したがって新しい「言語のアイデア」を作成するために、1つの言語(またはそれ以上)から単語を分割することもあります。


この映画は「作家の映画」でもあります。つまり、文章を書くことの質の高い作品であり(詩があります)、また一人の人間によって行われる作品でもあります。 すなわち、それは一人の人がすべての仕事をした映画であり、その結果、映画はグループではなく一人の個人の感性を反映しています(映画製作の標準と同様に)。

*
这些视频来自一系列名为“Baram”系列的自然视频。 这些电影中的一些文字很短; 相当像一种ha句形式。 此外,我还尝试使用语言,有时会从一种语言(或更多)中分离单词以创建新的单词组合,从而创建新的“语言创意”。


这部电影也是一部“作者制作的电影” - 也就是说,它是一部具有写作文学品质的作品(它里面有一首诗),它也是一个人独自完成的作品。 也就是说,这是一部电影,其中一个人完成了所有的工作,因此,电影反映了一个人而不是一个团体的敏感性(这是电影制作中的常态)。


*




YouTube link: https://youtu.be/fkhlaEn8qew

Last Question of the Evening - still


Friday, February 08, 2019

Baram Writer - a screenplay-story


These are from a series of nature videos entitled the "Baram" series. Some of the text in these movies is quite short; rather like a form of haiku. Furthermore, I also experiment with language, and sometimes split up words from one language (or more) in order to create new word combinations, and therefore new “language ideas”.

The movie is also an "authorial movie" -- that is, it is a work with literary qualities (It has a poem in it), and it is also a solitary production. That is, it is a movie in which one person did all the work, and as a result, the movie reflects the sensibility of one individual rather than a group (as is the norm in movie-making).

*

Celles-ci sont tirées d'une série de vidéos sur la nature intitulées "Baram". Une partie du texte de ces films est assez courte. plutôt comme une forme de haïku. De plus, j’expérimente également le langage et sépare parfois des mots d’une langue (ou plus) afin de créer de nouvelles combinaisons de mots, et donc de nouvelles «idées de langage».


Le film est aussi un "film d'auteur", c’est-à-dire qu’il s’agit d’une œuvre aux qualités littéraires (il contient un poème) et qu’il s’agit également d’une production solitaire. C’est-à-dire qu’il s’agit d’un film dans lequel une seule personne a fait tout le travail et, par conséquent, le film reflète la sensibilité d’un individu plutôt que celle d’un groupe (comme c’est la norme dans la réalisation de films).

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Questi sono tratti da una serie di video naturalistici intitolati alla serie "Baram". Parte del testo di questi film è piuttosto breve; piuttosto come una forma di haiku. Inoltre, ho anche sperimentato il linguaggio e talvolta ho diviso le parole da una lingua (o più) per creare nuove combinazioni di parole e quindi nuove "idee linguistiche".


Il film è anche un "film d'autore" - cioè, è un lavoro con qualità letterarie (contiene un poema), ed è anche una produzione solitaria. Cioè, è un film in cui una persona ha fatto tutto il lavoro e, di conseguenza, il film riflette la sensibilità di un individuo piuttosto che di un gruppo (come è la norma nel film).

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Estos son de una serie de videos de la naturaleza titulados "Baram". Parte del texto en estas películas es bastante corto; más bien como una forma de haiku. Además, también experimento con el lenguaje y, a veces, divido las palabras de un idioma (o más) para crear nuevas combinaciones de palabras y, por lo tanto, nuevas "ideas de lenguaje".


La película es también una "película de autor", es decir, es una obra con cualidades literarias (tiene un poema) y también es una producción solitaria. Es decir, es una película en la que una persona hizo todo el trabajo y, como resultado, la película refleja la sensibilidad de un individuo en lugar de un grupo (como es la norma en la realización de películas).

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이들은 "Baram"시리즈라는 일련의 자연 영상물에서 나온 것입니다. 이 영화의 일부 텍스트는 매우 짧습니다. 오히려 하이쿠의 형태와 같습니다. 또한, 나는 또한 언어를 실험하고 때로는 하나의 언어 (또는 그 이상의 언어)에서 단어를 분리하여 새로운 단어 조합을 만들어 새로운 "언어 아이디어"를 만듭니다.


이 영화는 "저작 영화"이기도합니다. 즉, 문학적 자질을 가진 작품 (그것은 시가 있습니다)이며, 독창적 인 작품이기도합니다. 즉, 한 사람이 모든 작업을 한 영화이기 때문에 결과적으로 영화는 그룹이 아닌 한 개인의 감성을 반영합니다 (영화 제작의 표준처럼).

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Это из серии видеороликов о природе под названием «Барам». Часть текста в этих фильмах довольно короткая; скорее как форма хайку. Кроме того, я также экспериментирую с языком и иногда разделяю слова из одного языка (или более), чтобы создать новые словосочетания и, следовательно, новые «языковые идеи».


Фильм также является «авторским фильмом», то есть произведением с литературными качествами (в нем есть стихотворение), а также одиночным спектаклем. То есть это фильм, в котором всю работу выполнял один человек, и в результате фильм отражает чувствительность одного человека, а не группы (что является нормой в создании фильмов).

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これらは「バラム」シリーズと題する一連の自然のビデオからのものです。 これらの映画の一部のテキストはかなり短いです。 俳句の形のように。 さらに、私は言語でも実験し、新しい単語の組み合わせ、したがって新しい「言語のアイデア」を作成するために、1つの言語(またはそれ以上)から単語を分割することもあります。


この映画は「作家の映画」でもあります。つまり、文章を書くことの質の高い作品であり(詩があります)、また一人の人間によって行われる作品でもあります。 すなわち、それは一人の人がすべての仕事をした映画であり、その結果、映画はグループではなく一人の個人の感性を反映しています(映画製作の標準と同様に)。

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这些视频来自一系列名为“Baram”系列的自然视频。 这些电影中的一些文字很短; 相当像一种ha句形式。 此外,我还尝试使用语言,有时会从一种语言(或更多)中分离单词以创建新的单词组合,从而创建新的“语言创意”。


这部电影也是一部“作者制作的电影” - 也就是说,它是一部具有写作文学品质的作品(它里面有一首诗),它也是一个人独自完成的作品。 也就是说,这是一部电影,其中一个人完成了所有的工作,因此,电影反映了一个人而不是一个团体的敏感性(这是电影制作中的常态)。








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[note: this originally appeared in Dark Sky Magazine]

BARAM WRITER

EXT. AN URBAN WOODLAND. WINTER. LATE AFTERNOON.
Wind blows through trees, rustles dead leaves, makes branches sway in a creaking, slow dervish.
VO [male]: The wind has its own tone, its own feeling. It’s like … coldness, thinness.
It’s like hunger.
The wind has a body. The wind is someone.


JUMPCUT
EXT. A HIKING TRAIL IN THE URBAN WOODLAND. A MOMENT LATER.
A married couple walks along the trail. We see the wife, walking ahead.
VO: You’re someone. I’m someone.
Your body: petite, a source of warmth. A body to whom love is directed.
My body?
Wind.
That is, has been wind. Still feels like wind, but sometimes feels warmth.
I think this is the final state of love.




JUMPCUT
EXT. THE HIKING TRAIL. A MOMENT LATER.
A view of nearby apartment buildings. Several of the apartments, while still in somebody’s possession, lie empty. The buildings look spectral and aristocratic: the second homes of the well-to-do. The empty homes of the well-traveled.
The couple on the hiking trail, dressed in their simple clothes, look at the buildings.
HUSBAND [in accented Korean]: 열령 집. [”Ghost houses”]
WIFE: They go somewhere, maybe to Swiss.
HUSBAND: We should go on a trip sometime. Get away.
WIFE: I can’t. I have too much stress at hospital.
HUSBAND: I know. That’s why we should go. Your job is too difficult.
The WIFE looks at her HUSBAND. She sadly shakes her head.
JUMPCUT
EXT. THE HIKING TRAIL. A MOMENT LATER.
The HUSBAND follows his wife. He follows her along the trail as the cold sun sets.




VO: You walk along the trail, together today, but tomorrow, Sunday, you have to work an evening shift.
EXT. THE HIKING TRAIL. THE NEXT DAY. DUSK.
VO: I’m alone.
I walk along the trail. My daily exercise.
The scene is still, quiet. Thoughts pour through my head.
I’m worried about you. Your job is too hard. It’s affecting your health.
The sensation is like wind, a stress-wind, blowing the chemistry of the mind in circles.
Worries swirl like brittle, dry leaves.
A new sensation comes to me. It’s a sensation that combines worry and love. It is a sensation in the bones. It radiates through muscle, through organs, through eyes. It’s a reverse heat, as if the body burns from its core.
It’s more than heat. It’s an impact, evanescent in the world, it collides with our lives: an interior shake, an earthquake of marrow. It’s the wind of reality. And it has made an impact.
The body must withstand this impact. The body must marry the mind, tell itself the wind is weak, not the person it shakes.
JUMPCUT
EXT. THE HIKING TRAIL. A MOMENT LATER.
VO: The sun sets behind trees. Blackness descends upon the world.
The sun sets and the wind dies. It retreats to its apartments, its clouds.