This Was Meant To Be The(!) Reflection But I Got Lost

In the beginning this studio was a blur, a slap in the face to the comfortable life. Adrian dropped statement after statement questioning this or that, things we’ve become accustomed to – stories, anthropocentrism, agency – buzzwords that would eventuate into whole thoughts, a reworking of synapses. Starting a new semester is always a difficult task given the new faces and new content, and finding one’s footing can be daunting. Crisis. Panic. Worry about the future – what the hell am I gonna be when I grow up? I’ve learned that, although you may aim for a single path, you are bound the hit a crossroads at some point, probably even two or three or four. The media program graduates X thousand amount of students who can do what you can do, so you’ve gotta get that one step ahead. Realise that the doing – the recording of the doing – is more important than the end result. Verbs, not nouns.

Ultimately this studio helped me challenge the world, challenge my perception of things – myself, mostly, and where and how I fit into the scheme of things – challenge narrative, challenge schooling. I fear that I will find it hard going forward without a teacher who understands things like Adrian does. I would like to continue this studio and this learning about agency and materiality maybe forever, or at least until I have properly comprehended these strands that are left fraying in my brain. This is starting to feel like a sappy ending to a rom-com. Side note: I should’ve taken more (better) notes. If I’m really dedicated, I should compile a bunch of notes on this subject, draw from the blog and get to the nitty gritty of what I really find interested. If I’m really dedicated I should take a look at that note-taking method that Adrian left a comment about on my blog. If I’m really dedicated I should hold onto these thoughts, these new ideas about relationality and find ways to import them into my work. I’ll miss this studio.

Step 1: bullet journal.

Final EoN Notes (big fat sad face)

  • Triage – doctors, Google
  • Google algorithm is based on the internet being a meshwork, not a hierarchy (not based on traffic) – the most links into the site = the higher the rank in a search. Determined by relationality.
  • Relations confer the value. The artefact matters, but you won’t get traffic because of your great work, but because of the meshwork of links that feed into your site.
  • Skills:
    • Iterate, iterate your work in cycles. First drafts are rubbish.
    • Notice your strengths and weaknesses. Recognise weaknesses, spend your effort doing what you’re good at.
    • Dealing with ambiguity and uncertainty (exquisite corpse) – this is the studio summarised.
    • Revised: materiality, relationality, agency – posthumanism (like postmodernism, “what is now to think beyond the human”)
  • Soft skills:
    • Blogging! is a soft skill. All the things we just read out (participation) are soft skills.
  • Automation: IFTTT. Ok, cool. Don’t reinvent the wheel. I’m using this.
  • Blogs are not for polished, finished things. They’re for works in progress (I’m a psychic! See: blog title)
  • Perfection getting in the way of good. “Putting perfection ahead of everything means that nothing will get done, or started.” This needs to be put to the front of my brain.
  • Sparkling wine ✓
  • Aw man, last class. I get too attached to studios. It hurts to tear myself away!!!!!!!!

Tues

Documentary practice focuses on the specific. It may make general claims but it ties these to the specific. Contemporary documentary is usually ‘arty-sociology’ or ‘arty-politics’, according to Adrian.

Epistemological act of violence in taking someone’s story and creating one of these documentaries. Insistence on narrative arc is inherent in this person’s life (digital storytelling). Manipulation of subjects for professional gain.

Become more specific. Go more narrow. Break it down to its parts.

Better soundscapes played with voice, eg. alliteration. Treat voice as something to be manipulated, another part of the soundscape.

Ants are more or less communists.

Technology is not separate from the human as it is spoken about in readings. Humans have always been technological.

Take one (narrow) part of the German soundtrack and enlarge it visually – bring Qs and problems on Thursday.

Fix the problems from your first soundscape in the next one – redeem yourself.

Qs: How do you make a list, a video list? What makes a good list? What makes a good list visually?

Creativity requires restraints. A six string guitar can’t make every sound in the world.

Landscape Suicide

Adrian brought up James Benning in class on Thursday. This switched the reminder button back on which beamed the title “LANDSCAPE SUICIDE” in big neon lights intermittently, kinda like a combination of the genesis of Dirk Diggler in Boogie Nights and the blinking ‘SILENZIO’ sign in Berberian Sound Studio, but in a less sensationalised, less wow!-producing motion. So, in reality it only popped up for a second and I had since forgotten about it.

I woke up late this morning, feeling lethargic and with a resounding sigh at having to write this essay (that my brain keeps sparking off randomly about with great thoughts that soon get forgotten — PSA: get that little notebook you were talking about in that other blog post). I felt like watching something. And then the neon lights flickered for a second and I found my answer.

Landscape Suicide, directed by James Benning in 1987. My friend had given me and another friend an .avi file a couple of years and of the group of the three of us — one welcomed it with open arms while the other’s attempts to decipher it were fruitless — I was the only one who hadn’t seen it yet. And thankfully so. I feel like right now was the perfect time for me to have watched it. The version of me before I started this studio would definitely have taken up arms with my friend who drew nothing out of the film.

Benning has been described as “a quiet, unassuming investigator of filmic ontology” (shoutout Senses of Cinema). In Landscape Suicide, his camera sits static. He lets the frame unfold by itself — watching, waiting — but interrupts the scene with blackouts, not even second long cuts to black. At first, it’s disorientating in its aggression but once you find the rhythm inherent in the cuts it makes the experience all the more engaging. A reviewer on Letterboxd links this effect to the human act of blinking, where doing so causes you to “lose an almost indivisible amount of time” — “blink and you’ll miss it”, they say. As the film unfolds as an ‘investigation’ of sorts, this effect is at its most vital during the interview scenes — reenacted with sheer brilliance by Rhonda Bell and Elion Sucher, who portray small-town high-school killer Bernadette Protti, and infamous murderer Ed Gein, respectively — where the importance of collecting and literally seeing the truth is essential.

Benning’s images bear resemblance to Bogost’s reading of Stephen Shore’s ontographical photograph. Indeed, ‘the Shore ontograph takes things already gathered and explodes them into their tiny, separate, but contiguous universes’ and through Benning’s recording of rural America, his static frame seeks to emulate this and explode the relations of Americana, to uncover the truth in the mundane. His documenting is unbiased (he gives equal time to small time high school killer as he does body snatcher Ed Geins) as he plays out both halves of the film in the most parallel of fashions. The result is truly mesmerising. It’s more dense than I can describe in a couple hundred words.

So, the answer to all this is to accidentally turn your alarm off, sleep in until 11am and hope that you wake up and remember about that movie that your friend put on your hard drive that one time, and it might help you collect your thoughts on philosophy and ultimately help you write an essay.

From now on, I’ll be sure to replace the batteries in the neon lights in my head so that these ideas don’t blow out in the future.

Noticing

Photo taken at 1am-ish from window of friend’s apartment in the city. So many lights on. So many people working in their own little circle. Makes you feel small, no? There’s no air-con, so the door stays permanently open, and filters so many nighttime sounds in. Makes me feel small, yes.

Participation (or lack thereof)

  • Make notes on the readings. Attempt the Cornell note-taking method for one reading. See if this works.
    • Ok, I did make notes on the readings but I would have liked to expand on them more than just highlighting. Cornell note-taking method did not come up, I forgot that amongst blogging and everything surrounding this class I have two other classes that needed attending to. I’ll try better next week.
  • Socialise – make an effort to talk to others. We’ll see.
    • I should’ve specified that this meant to others in class. That did happen, although it was mostly around groupwork. My group is cool. I was particularly social outside of class though which perhaps explains my lack of participation in the other areas.
  • Start assignments earlier. Start this assignment today (Thursday). Work on it for at least an hour each day (7 hours minimum all up) until next Thursday.
    • Welp, this was a bold statement. I think 7 hours was possibly a little much for such a light assignment, but I also felt that I didn’t contribute as much to the groupwork as I could’ve. Still, we’re only a third of the way through this semester.
  • Familiarise myself with content, definitions, concepts. Re-re-read Bogost. Read a chapter at a time. Go back to Rushkoff and read 2 chapters again.
    • If by ‘re-re-read Bogost chapter 1 and read 2 chapters of Rushkoff again’, I meant read Bogost chapter 2 and maybe come back to some parts of it throughout the week then I would have 10 points. But for now, I’ll settle for 3/10. So much to read, so little time (to get inspired to do so).
  • Refine documenting/filmmaking skills. Practice doing things outside of classwork. Document things unrelated to assignments. Make these into blog posts, 3 by next Thursday.
    • This kind of happened, the 1/3 of these ‘noticings’ still remains in draft mode but I promise I’ll finish it today. A lot of other thinking happened. I should carry around a little notebook to counter my forgetfulness.

I give myself a generous 4/10 for this week.

What do I think I learnt today? (yesterday)

Today’s lesson (yesterday’s lesson; refer to previous blog post(/s) about being slack, and attempting to find (and fail) the need to blog ASAP) taught me that our technical media (cameras, recording devices) are nonhuman, indifferent sampling machines which still leaves me with questions. Our devices may not be concerned with what they record and can’t discriminate based on this, but ultimately who presses record? Who sets the 5 minute interval timer that captures these whales? Who assembles the footage into an actual ‘documentary’?

Johnathan Harris seems like an incredibly interesting guy (I hope one day he comes knocking at my door and chronicles a story about how we are long lost relatives) and part of me aspires to create something as he has done.

An excuse to use a Business Fish sticker

Much of the theory that makes up this studio is based around removing the human from the centre. This involves recognising that everything has its own agency, and that we as humans are operating alongside an almost infinite number of other things. Our next project involves creating what is effectively a documentary about something: a locale, an item; something that has its own agency yada yada. The problem occurs when we think about documentary or the act of documenting. Aren’t these actions inherently human? The equipment we use, the cameras, the microphones, the computers (and all the hundreds of tiny parts inside each of them); are they not man-made things? How does one go about creating an ontography about something if by doing so we are intrinsically putting a human mark on it? Is the idea of ontology not born of human thinking?