Saturday, December 8, 2007
Zdzisław Beksiński (1929-2005) - True Inspiration
Friday, October 26, 2007
Polish Masters of Animation Pt. 4: Julian Józef Antonisz
Perhaps a rough Google translation of the Polish Wikipedia page will clear things up...
Here’s ‘How a Sausage Dog Works' and 'Non-Camerowa.' ‘A Highly Committed Movie’ is available on PWA’s Anthology of Polish Animated Film - http://pwa.gov.pl/en/show/60/index.html
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Various Pathological Curiosities
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Polish Masters of Animation Pt. 3: Walerian Borowczyk
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Polish Masters of Animation Pt. 2: Jan Lenica
I’d read about him. I’d seen his stark, violently striking posters. Some of my major influences cited him as their influence. But, it wasn’t until recently that I finally experienced some of the most mind-numbingly brilliant animation I’ve ever seen, created by him in a period between the 1950s and the present. Jan Lenica is, without a doubt, one of THE masters of not only animation, but cinema as a whole.
The bootlegged DVD I got a hold of features four of his films, along with a mini-documentary (in Polish) of Lenica at work. The films are:
Dom, 1956 / 1958 (?)
Nowy Janko Muzykat, 1960
Labirynt, 1962
WYSPA R.O., 2001
There aren’t any clips available, or even very few stills, so I am going to direct this not specifically at each film, but Lenica’s style overall.
The earlier work is much cruder technically, but the films seem to hold much more artistic quality, working on editing nuances and interesting graphic amalgams. Lenica’s origins in poster work are very apparent in Nowy Janko Muzykat, which follows the ‘exploits’ of a cut-out figure man, who appears to have been drawn by an eight year old. The films, with the exception of the most recent - WYSPA R.O., employ collage cut-out animation, sometimes woven together by live-action shots. The entire system lends itself to a Svankmajerian feel. One comes away from Dom, which was made while Lenica was still working collaboratively with Walerian Borowczyk, looking at Jan Svankmajer’s work with new eyes, much like discovering Svankmajer AFTER the work of the Brothers Quay. It’s all a disillusioning process, down to the very core inspirations.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Ryszard Czekala
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Just Another Saturday . . .
This guy is the contemporary William S. Burroughs of hand-drawn animation! A brilliant satirist employing a genuine syntax of over-the-top violence, eroticism, and societal criticism all wrapped up in a turgid editing style. You gotta’ love it.
The Sound of Music, 1992
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Anamorphosis
- Webster’s, 1913.
During the 19th century the technique became more of a novelty feature, and dropped from the realm of fine art. Yet, not only did Anamorphosis see new life during the 20th century, from artists such as Marcel Duchamp and Salvador Dali, it has also become the basic principle behind such film formats as CinemaScope and Panavision, employing anamorphic lenses on motion picture cameras and projectors; ‘squeezing’ the image horizontally to fit into the film frame, and then ‘stretching’ it while being projected through a complementary lens during projection.
De Artificiali Perspectiva (Anamorphosis), 1991, by the Brothers Quay.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Cabinet of Curiosities
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Plakaty! Plakaty! Plakaty!
The poster shown above is by Franciszek Starowieyski, an artist who turned his skills to poster design sometime in the 60s; his amazing work reaching up to the 90s. His incredibly powerful poster for Witkacy's Beyond Reality from 1981 is featured briefly in the opening sequence of the Brothers Quay's most well-known film, The Street of Crocodiles.
I have to knock a few things off my wall and make room for a new poster soon . . .
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Something fresh.
After having only read The Metamorphosis and In The Penal Colony I must say I wasn't quite prepared for this. The diaries are written in a very elusive way: these half-fragments and broken thoughts. Yet, there is something strangely fulfilled and well-executed throughout his seemingly incomplete threads, as if the fragmentary nature of them holds the writing together in a tentatively self-sustaining manner.
I’ll post a link later when I’m not feeling so lazy, and actually have the will to search for it. Until then, here’s a cool music video of Hugh Cornwell’s Another Kind of Love directed by Jan Svankmajer.