Again on the train I am surrounded by bubbles of personal space. This train is not quite as packed as the last, however, with everyone seeming to fit in quite comfortably. There is a drowsy atmosphere. Again it is a Monday, people have been torn from their weekend luxuries and hurled into the daily grind. One four seater hosts two sleepers on one side, a schoolgirl on the aisle sure and a middle aged man by the window. The latter is resting against his knuckle, which repeatedly slips from the ledge it rests on, dragging itself from his forehead to his cheek in a way that looks like he is punching himself in his sleep. The schoolgirl sits with her head thrown back, unmoving in her slumber, with earphones in each ear. Perhaps she is not asleep at all, and is only deeply entranced by the music she is listening to. Opposite them on the window side there sits a young man with green headphones on, who hasn’t shifted his gaze from a single point out the window for the entire duration of the train ride. His music seems to keep him persistently upright and rigid. The train shakes a little more ferociously than it has on the trip thusfar and suddenly this drowsy nook of the train is jolted awake, now faced with the necessity of assuming the Monday identities that their weekend is still so desperately trying to pull them away from.

The film: A four seater on a train, a glimpse into what each is internally experiencing intercut with their joined experience on the train. The dreams of the schoolgirl and the middle aged man will be displayed, as well as the thoughts of the others. The train will play a part throughout, waking the passengers up every now and again and forcing these focal characters to momentarily leave their internal worlds and acknowledge one another.

I haven’t really paid much of an interest in the olympics at any point in my life, although it is entirely unavoidable now. Its ubiquity on social media through trending articles, pieces of footage and people’s discussion extends its spectacle into the social sphere to the point where you really can’t have one without the other. I found myself explaining a series of olympic-themed memes to my girlfriend, my explanations bolstered by a substantial amount of information regarding the events that each of the memes were drawn from – knowing as much as I did, I may as well have just watched the olympics.

This is the first time that’s happened to me – that is, becoming at all informed about the olympics. My identity has become so intertwined with its online counterpart that any event that takes the virtual world by storm becomes a part of my vocabulary by default. I contribute to the global conversation without even meaning to do so, caught in a web of memes with no hope of escaping it.

Another gloomy Monday, another overflowing express train into uni. After a few stations I shuffled over into the aisle to let more hoards on board. I had quite little space to move around – even less than the aisle allowed – because of all the knees in the way.

The need for personal space makes for an interesting arrangement on a packed train: in a group of 4 seats, the two sitting on the window side will typically have their knees in front of them but slightly skewed to avoid the knees of the person opposite them, while those sat in the aisle seats generally have their knees tilted out into the aisle so that they’re at least slightly facing away from those next to them.

It almost seems choreographed because it’s just so natural for all of these regular train passengers. The moment anyone steps onto the train, they instinctively move into their position and delve as deeply into their personal space as they possibly can, hastily plugging earphones in and gluing their faces to their smartphones.

A network of bubbles so intricate that we hardly ever notice it, if at all.

Sitting in the Building 9 common room, I noticed a lanky guy hurriedly pace in and set up his laptop. He began furiously typing and checking his watch every so often – it was clear that he had something due in an upcoming class. After about 5 minutes he seemed to be getting into the zone and stress levels appeared to be reducing. It wasn’t long before this was disrupted by someone who took a seat opposite him and began chatting. After about a minute of small talk it became apparent that this was an old uni friend, someone he had shared a class with earlier in the course and had since drifted apart from. At first the small talk was pleasant and after the first minute it seemed to begin easing to a halt, only to be kicked back into overdrive as the old friend played the nostalgic stories card.

The lanky guy’s genuine laughter gradually became increasingly artificial as his answers dropped from sentences to breaths of acknowledgement. The old friend didn’t seem to pick up on these cues and continued to chat away. Watch checks became more frequent. The due time drew nearer. There was a moment of hope as the old friend slowly withdrew his laptop from his bag, only to be diffused as he placed the closed laptop onto the table and showed no sign of opening it, relaxing back into his chair. The lanky guy eventually gave in and snapped up his laptop, muttering something along the lines of “yeah man good to see you, just gotta head off to class but I’ll catch you around”.

After the lanky guy left, the old friend sat at the table with a closed laptop, scrolling through Facebook on his phone before packing everything up and leaving about 10 minutes later. I wonder if he roams around uni in between classes, seeking out people he knows to smother with small talk.

A mother swoops into the florist to get the gift out of the way.

Her eyes scan the orchids, placing price above petals. She weighs up size while weighing down the curiosity of her children, whose eyes are wonderfully fixed on the terrariums.

I can see them wondering what those cacti feel like – if it’ll hurt to give them a pat; if they’ll be brave enough to muster the pain in front of their sibling. Soon enough, thought evolves into action and a hand lowers into the bowl before being swatted out by the mother, who continues to round up the kids and point them in the direction of the counter.

She instructs me to box the orchid as she continues along her trajectory over to the $7 gift cards – no, she thinks, before noticing the $4 gift card rack and hurriedly scanning these for something suitable. She juggles cash, keys and the card, scribbles an empty message and pays before abruptly sweeping out of the store with kids in tow, who clumsily navigate their way out of the forest.

This course has already offered the opportunity for me to gain technical production and camera skills that I was lacking before. As I found out in my individual exercise, I have a fairly good sense of how to set up the EX3, with a solid gain in my ability to recognise good exposure and an understanding of how to actually employ the zebra tool.

I chose the doorway that I shot in the exercise as it created the opportunity for multiple spaces to be in frame (i.e.: the space as it appears in the frame before the doorway and through it) and the misleading depth of the space through the doorway. In the first shot I attempted to time it so that I could capture some people walking in the courtyard through the door – a couple walked past but that was all. For the second one I asked a man sitting nearby if he would walk back and forth a couple of times with some sort of purpose. My instructions were quite vague so his actions were too, but some of the impromptu decisions he made invited nice moments – the main being when he chose to look up and his face was met with warm light.

In reflection I probably would have spent more time adjusting the focus in order to give more depth to the frame as it seems a little flat as I watch it back. I would also consider either giving more or less instruction to a future participant as it is slightly uncomfortable watching someone perform in such a way that they only vaguely know what they’re doing.

I declare that in submitting all work for this assessment I have read, understood and agree to the content and expectations of the assessment declaration.

After one dog decided it was satisfied with us and carried on to the next thing, another would charge towards us. Our picnic blanket eventually became a minefield of guacamole, crumbs and saliva. As frequently as dogs came from one direction, engrossed players of Pokemon Go came from the other. It soon became clear that this was because the only two sorts of people occupying the park were those walking their dogs or playing the immensely popular game. There were even moments of crossover: several families strolled past, the parents walking the dogs with the children lagging behind deeply concentrated on catching Pokemon.

It wasn’t only children obsessing over the game. Roughly 10 metres away from my picnic rug, a couple of 30-somethings were stumbling back and forth and noting each other’s progress in the game. It seemed as though they had been playing for quite a while, as one of them mentioned something about a Pokemon they had caught earlier by the playground, which was at the other side of the massive park. Chances are they made the trip to the park specifically to play the game.

Does it really engage you with your environment if you’re just going where the game begs you to for rare Pokemon? These 30-somethings weren’t gazing off at the beautiful shimmering lake, or the swaying trees, but rather circling the same patch of grass for awkwardly long periods of time. It scarily recalls the gameplay of the original games themselves, where all too often you would find yourself in the same nondescript grassland for hours to encounter an obscure Pokemon to brag to your friends about the next day.

I became aware of an extremely drunken man when my girlfriend introduced me (or rather insisted that I stand beside her) to him. He was a Jeff Bridges lookalike, with the hygiene of The Dude and the fashion sense of Rooster Cogburn.
“Jazz, man … Uh, the kids, they’re lookin’ for somethin’ fresh, y’know, and like, what you’re doin’, you’ve got it, it’s there, y’know”

This was the central message that took him roughly 2 minutes to articulate to us. It was flattering, albeit mainly incomprehensible, so we thanked him and parted ways. We had a laugh and didn’t think too much of it, until I was reminded of his presence throughout the rest of the evening as he yawped whatever bizarre sounds he felt the need to (the most frequent sounding like the call of an ill bird). He spent the majority of the performance that followed ours incoherently babbling to the lady on the door taking tickets, who ultimately was reduced to tears after having to put up with this guy for so long.

Who once was harmless; at worst an embarrassment, was eventually repulsive. He had made his way around the room, accumulating a trail of upset that elongated behind him until it couldn’t be ignored. His presence both filled and contaminated whichever space he entered. Oblivious and consumed by his inebriation, the man damaged an experience of which he wasn’t really present.

I thought I’d reflect upon all of the footage and investigations I’ve undertaken this semester in relation to my Week 7 prompt/presentation. I’ve really enjoyed doing it; it’s opened my eyes to a completely different way of making which I guess is the point of the studio. That being said, now reading back over my Week 7 presentation I have definitely strayed quite a bit from my initial intentions. 

Originally I spoke about wanting to use the camera in ways other than directing attention, eg: creating a meditative effect or simply presenting subjects in such a way that they can expose themselves naturally. This was something that I think I followed through with. Each piece of footage I took focuses on certain aspects of the environment / subject that it depicts without being incorporated into any sort of overarching structure or narrative. These pieces are ambient and contain natural action – that is, action that is not at all motivated by me or the fact that it is being filmed. This was an interesting experience for me as it cultivated skills that I hadn’t really isolated that much before: the ability to react to and capture moments as they unfold before me, and noticing more broadly. In other words, I feel as though I have exercised the ability to adapt to my surroundings as a filmmaker, rather than just adapting my surroundings.

Now for the stuff that didn’t quite go according to plan. For a start, I had considered experimenting with both choreographed and impromptu footage, where I would have coordinated some scenes or actions to film to then contrast with unplanned versions of the same scenes. This would have allowed me to focus on what stands out in both instances and how they can each be effective approaches in capturing activity. I didn’t end up choreographing anything at all, mainly because I became bored of that idea. I had already begun filming things to see what would happen and was hooked on that, so it felt like a step backwards to try to integrate that original idea.

I had planned to work with all sorts of uni equipment – cameras, booms and the like – in order to hone my skills as a filmmaker and director. This was another thing that did not come to fruition. The ‘Tram’ footage that I took on my iPhone and initiated my investigations was at first just a draft piece of footage, a quick way to record an idea, but admittedly I became semi-obsessed with the aesthetic of the iPhone portrait frame. I grew attached to the idea that the iPhone is the most relevant medium to use as it is the device that possibly defines this generation. Unfortunately this meant that I was not able to improve a great deal behind the camera, but it did give me total freedom to respond to my surroundings whenever inspiration struck and the chance to think about different ways of approaching composition.

Although I did depart from a decent amount of what I had originally intended to include, I don’t think I could have gone about these investigations in a better way. I stated that I wanted to explore the ‘multitude of ways to communicate an idea, person or a place … with the possibilities of cinema as a medium of movement in mind’ and that I was ‘concerned with what there is, rather than why it is there’. These were the core prompts I challenged myself with, and I think that the material I ended up producing and the growth of the investigations addressed these prompts well. I captured the idiosyncrasies of everyday environments, using motivated frames to communicate what can be engaging about the environments depicted and the potential of the portrait frame.

Most of my footage focused on how each of these environments contain a series of spaces that each involve distinct and independent activity which we intuitively connect when we see them come together as a whole, ie: within a piece of footage. For instance, the ‘Train Station’ and ‘Tram’ shots (included below) show how many spaces interact with each other to create an experience (perceiving things moving away through the window of a train/tram creates the experience of movement), although the activity in one space more often than not will not interact with the activity within another space (people scrolling through Facebook are not observing the outside of the tram and therefore are not engaging with that space). Generally, the simple act of filming moments without planning beforehand allowed me to focus on what there is, rather than why it is there – to look at what is happening in as many ways as I could.

Which leads me to possibly the main epiphany I reached in the conduction of these experiments – that I was not just capturing ideas, people and places, I was capturing moments. This is exactly what happened to Cuaron when blood spattered on the lens in Children of Men, which is where I drew inspiration from for these investigations. So in short, I’d call that a success.

Trains (Multiple Platforms) from Timothy Palstra on Vimeo.

Tram from Timothy Palstra on Vimeo.

 

Rearview Mirror from Timothy Palstra on Vimeo.

Heading into this investigation, I had an idea that I would be working with friends and family in that I would be seeking ways to represent them and/or their unique qualities through sustained long takes. I also considered working with others in the class or in the course and assembling little crews to get better at coordinating and directing a group of people.

I eventually decided that the latter didn’t really fit into what I wanted to do, especially considering that a lot of the material was dependent on it not being preconceived. This was a shame as I enjoyed working with others in class however I think working independently gave me the chance to solidify what I was actually investigating and gaining out of this semester.

My initial idea for working with friends and family is something I might yet pursue, admittedly I was just so interesting in focusing on moments and environments that I just kept going along with that. That being said, I did experiment with making abstract portraits a few times but none of them were quite as captivating as the other takes I had done. See below for a quick example of a way I might go about representing people in the future – in this instance, Lara didn’t know that I was filming her which was the point, I just wanted to capture the moment of her talking and doing what she was doing at the time in a way that wasn’t obviously constructed.

So generally I was a lone wolf for this one. I’m glad that I went about it in the way that I did, it has made me a lot more confident in being experimental with film and following my gut in determining what to film. It has also established a new way of making for me which is to use my iPhone to capture a moment when the thought strikes me, a process I intend to use to build up an archive of like material to hopefully create bigger and better works in the future.

Lara portrait from Timothy Palstra on Vimeo.