OBSERVATIONS
REFLECTIONS
LINK TO PRACTICAL TASK
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1afCAnAQ9QHd0G_s-0lRP4wnfdNx_zs58?usp=sharing
OBSERVATIONS
REFLECTIONS
LINK TO PRACTICAL TASK
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1afCAnAQ9QHd0G_s-0lRP4wnfdNx_zs58?usp=sharing
PRACTICAL TASK AVAILABLE AT:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1afCAnAQ9QHd0G_s-0lRP4wnfdNx_zs58?usp=sharing
The aim of the practical film-making task was to create a rendition of a real and present observation of my particular subjects of interest, which at this time happens to be people and behaviours, while respecting the community, not being intrusive and not being obstructive to people as they conduct their daily business and affairs. In an ideal scenario, this would have been carried out in a purely authentic fashion by which locals may have been filmed in their day-to-day life, however with the aforementioned intentions in mind and time constraints to consider, such was unachievable. In light of this, I chose to endeavour to recreate a real, observed moment and attempt to reflect my own perception of such including how my thoughts wandered as I experienced the moment and how I re-imagined the moment in memory. In order to achieve this while maintaining as much accuracy to the original experience as possible, I chose to adopt an approach to conceptualising and producing that is similar to that which I adopt when writing an observation. This encompassed allowing the experience to form a memory which I then revisit for a period (in this case a couple of days) and slowly refine to the most important points or period of interest before taking action towards recreating the memory.
The exact observation chosen was not one which I had previously written due to, as mentioned, a desire to stay true to my processes thus far. I had recently noticed a pair of young teenagers at the local corner-store ordering several coffees too many between them and a small plate of food which the ate as they waited. I wasn’t able to recreate the bare bones of this observation exactly, and used only one individual instead of two, however I feel that the general integrity of the idea and point of interest was maintained. In not recreating the moment exactly, I found myself able to be receptive to the circumstances which prevailed at the time of filming as I was removed from the desire to produce a black-letter recreation. Such led me to the decision to incorporate music into the final piece, for at the time of filming what was played at the store had grabbed my attention and felt fitting to the moment (although this also led to my paying lesser attention to the overall continuity in audio across my clips as I thought that the original audio would simply be discarded).
While I feel ultimately that a greater attentiveness to the unfolding events would have been to my benefit still, I am satisfied with the degree to which the sequence has reflected my perception of the initial event however feel also that the act of reconstructing this event as I did was perhaps a hinderance. As mentioned in my previous reflection, I am in deep consideration of the balance between objectivity and subjectivity and am left wondering if the product is still truly observational or if it has become too subjective. Additionally, I find myself wondering if, in re-creating an observation, the piece could have been shot and constructed to reflect this observation more effectively or more cinematically within the time constraints and limitations imposed by the environment and my own intentions.
Narration in writing and in media as a whole is an unavoidable feature intrinsically linked with the process of story telling. Although the greater portion of the narration discussed in the tutorials is the literal act of employing dialogue so as to contextualise visuals, I have been turning over the idea of narration as more or less a synonym to story telling. Much of the relationship between narration/the narrator and the story can be considered as a relationship between subjectivity and objectivity, where narration is the vehicle by which a story is transformed from an objective occurrence to the subjective recount of that occurrence. While I am very much interested in the relationship between the subjective and the objective when considering the recreation and representation of a subject/event/observation, the consideration of the act or practice of narration is difficult to address as I find it to be rather complex with respect to its relationship to perspective. When it comes to observational writing in particular, to lend excessive character to the narrator, whether this be achieved in directly acknowledging the point of view and context of the narrator or in indirectly creating this character in the means and language by which the observation is constructed, I am uncertain as to what degree the active inclusion of subjectivity is appropriate. To acknowledge the inevitable bias and subjectivity with which representation and translation of life experiences is intertwined is arguably an important aspect of observational writing as it informs the reader as to the lens through which representation is achieved and therefore may enable a better understanding of the reality of the event, however to allow the bias and subjectivity to become of immediate importance to an observation as a piece of writing arguably also reduces the degree to which it may be considered as genuinely observational by facilitating the dominance of subjectivity and therefore obscuring the objective reality.
The immediate consideration of narration in tutorials, however, and the viewing of the relevant clips in class has shed some light on the balance between subjectivity and objectivity. Of particular interest was the clips from the documentary film, Die Getraeumten (2016). In what was viewed of the film, not only is it the documentary approach and therefore sustained attempt at objectivity seemingly kept central throughout, but what is observed and documented is the relationship between actors and how the audience’s subjective perception of such is defined by the way the dialogue and discourses between a third party frames this relationship. In this, not only is the objectivity maintained to such a degree that the piece may be considered still a documentary, but the impact of subjectivity is both immediately acknowledged and manipulated. I am uncertain at this stage as to how I can make my understanding of this film and the approach to narration within immediately applicable to my own writing process as I continue to grapple with the balance between objective and subjective, however it is comforting to see that both can co-exist as important elements when adopting an observational approach.
9.13pm
When sitting in the back courtyard at night, it is important to be quiet, he says. The chatter of six people might disturb the neighbours or add to the frustrated sleeplessness that living along the highway inevitably brings.
So the booming voices of five twenty year-old men sitting around an outdoor coffee table on mouldy sofa’s and plastic outdoor chairs become softened. Their well-practised stature, squared shoulders, puffed chests, becomes slackened under the cover of a dark night. There is no moon and no lamps, the nearest porch light lies 10 odd metres away and is filtered by a lattice of bricks, an outdated white feature piece that’s a few pieces short of a wall.
Everyone looks more closely at each other, everyone pays more mind to what is said and those words which would otherwise be lost to drowning by music are caught.
10.07 am
An old woman, 85 or so, sits on a plastic green lawn chair with her back to the sun. The slanted morning rays catches the outermost of her short white hairs, warms her back and shoulders and signals the days beginning. Amongst a yard of overgrown grass, white weeds, yellow weeds and budding roses she slouches into herself and into her lawn chair. Her green sweater, although landmarked by a rim of gold, is a camouflage that eases the distinction of her shape with those of her garden. She is still, calm, quiet, at peace and disturbed only slightly by the gentle breeze as it drifts from the river and up the suburban street.
Reaching down into the grass, she procures a small dish, a crucible for a slice of bread, takes a bite, dusts the crumbs from her fingers with a gentle swipe of each against the other, and replaces her plate amongst the overgrowth. Realising the warmth, she removes her dark green sweater. Slowly, a bright white t-shirt is revealed. Once again, she slouches into her plastic lawn chair.
It is a warm morning for August.
They’ve shaved their head.
It looks nicer now
“I like the change”
It feels better somehow
It’s darker on their skin
a halo of brown
against blue eyes
that softens harsh looks
on a baby face.
There’s something of excitement,
more livid, more vivid,
then when I saw you last.
It’s a busy time
Does time ever really move fast?
There’s something about your eyes.
Maybe it’s just the hair
or something about the warmth in the air
and the change of light
to summer’s golden glow,
although it’s only spring.
Let’s pretend
it’s summer instead.
Foreign babble carries down the street from the storefront of a restaurant on the outskirts of a modern mall. Belissimo. An old Italian man’s words, completely unintelligible to the ordinary passer-by. Standing in front of the closed glass doors of the most popular pizza-pasta in the area, he examines closely the partially-filled food cabinet at the recently installed take-away bar, before making a sweeping inspection of the street-side table arrangements. He gesticulates wildly, arms reaching outwards on either side with graceless extravagance, across the pavement and towards the cabinet, magnifying his stature of 5’4″ by multiples with increased breadth. He’s raving loudly to a young waiter behind the wall of glass.
His back turned from the street and his face away from the public eye, all there is to reveal this unusual Italian is his reflection. The polished windows expose his unkemptness, his untidied hair, his marked trousers, his untucked shirt now only partially obscuring a protruding stomach that is evidential of perhaps years of love of food and wine. The transparent shadows of the reciprocal world captured on the glass reveal the slighted young man, confused and concerned, perhaps without a grasp on what it is that his elder is trying to communicate.
In the experience with writing observations as a class, or at least what I have seen of it, there appears to be a tendency towards a shorter form. For myself, this arises largely from two factors; one is the supposition that capturing the moment at which an observation is realised, particularly when it is fleeting, should be done in short form so as to reflect the fleeting-ness of the realisation. Another is the fact that those clips shown to us throughout the course of our classes are typically of a short form, due largely to their being excerpts from a larger piece or compilation. While the latter is not indicative of an explicit form which an observation should adopt and the aforementioned does not necessarily encompass the realisation of fleeting observations but may also apply to the realisation of things observed over several minutes or an extended period of time, I feel as though I have allowed myself to be overly groomed in favour of short-formed observational writing.
Observational-style pieces by Italo Calvino (Moon in the Afternoon, The Cheese Museum and The World Looks at the World), however, serve as a contradiction to this supposition. These pieces have disrupted my expectations of the ‘normal’ form of observational writing by virtue of their length and the use of several pages to address a duration period which, if I were to attempt to represent in writing, I would have written of in a few short paragraphs at the most. Yet, without being excessive in length, these pieces engage in an appropriate expansion of time to allow for a more detailed and careful elucidation of the subject. This is accompanied by what would seem to be an inevitable reduction of the pace of action within the piece which, in turn, gives rise to the representation of what may be taken for the realisation of an observation (which may still have been fleeting) in such a fashion that suggests against fleeting-ness.
This realisation of the potential for the extension of observation has revealed potential avenues by which pace may be explored. Should the representation of a brief moment be extended, then perhaps manipulation in pace through structural features of writing and, in future, video editing may assist in the restoration of an understanding of the progression of time. In addition to this, such may allow for greater depth of writing and thereby more complex and detailed observations or the provocation of previously unconsidered responses from the reader such as a sense of nostalgia or pensiveness. That said, I feel currently unprepared to apply this realisation to my own work as I find the idea of producing an observational piece that is longer by such a considerable degree as the writings of Italo Calvino to be intimidating, however I hope to make attempts at small extensions in length with the aim of increasing detail and complexity.
The juxtaposition between the bright LED lights of the Transperth trains with the cool blues and greys of a late afternoon sheltering beneath a thick cloak of clouds is exhausting on the eyes and disruptive of time. As the train pummels through space, one can be easily thrust forward into the future hours yet to arrive; the movements of the slowing afternoon liveliness become lost to the blur of the sidelong movement of the train. It’s a mechanical sidewinder creeping through the suburbs and sending the world to sleep for lack of fluorescence. It is drawn to a halt due only to the need to rest.
But as the world beyond the glass panes of the snakes body emerges from blur, one can see no indication of sustained life. The realised shapes are lost beneath a colourless wash. In the attempts of contact between the desperately lonely twigs on depraved branches the haze of oncoming rain is framed. The suburbs are punctuated by a faux wall, marking the line between that which is silenced by patter and that which holds its breath.
The air in the small car is warm, the harsh sun as filtered by tinted windows and sun shields graces the grey fabric-covered dashboard as it might a parked car during European summer.
The traffic lights turn from red to green.
I understand now why people say that cars purr. The slow acceleration of the engine is met by a polite resistance from the pedal and a gently hummed awakening of the engine. Nothing like genuine German mechanics, Dad had said. Away from country-side hills and rolling greens, instead near the beach, German mechanics become a coast-goer’s dream. It used to smell like mothballs, but the coconut-surfboard-wax air freshener dangling from the rear view mirror has bound driving to the scents of summer as it has been warmed by and muddled with sunshine. Faux red poppies from who knows when are wrapped tightly around the rear-view, too. They bounce gracefully against the upper seam of the windscreen, dancing with the horizon.
On today’s episode of hack, we’re talking about…
The radio babble cuts to static as driving becomes a rolling downhill descent. The sound is lost in purrs and turning wheels.
…debt. So are we worse off…
Each bump on the road is heightened by the closeness of the car to ground, a foot or so feels like inches.
…some are doing really well…
The steering wheel turns with the same polite resistance of the accelerator. The white bonnet dissolves into the path ahead and destination is forgotten.
The process of developing a sense of personal style in observational writing without strong direction and/or examples has been an important element with respect to gaining confidence and ease in writing. While being void of such may seem counter-intuitive as it leaves one without much context as to how to approach the process, to have begun to practise writing without strong preconceptions of what the product of writing should be or what elements and characteristics are necessary for a ‘good’ observational piece has allowed for my own personal intuition and sensibilities to function as dominant sources of influence. As a consequence of this, production has not pampered an audience and expectations but rather has sought to be centralised on subjects to which I feel most strongly inclined to write about and defined by approaches which I perceive as being the most appropriate in representing these subjects. Ultimately, writing has maintained a self-serving direction as opposed to a reader-serving direction and has begun to acquire character accordingly.
That said, I acknowledge that not becoming confined to an understanding of the practise of observational writing that is defined by my methods only is equally important. While I believe that the groundwork of my own stylistic approach to observational writing has now been laid, being exposed to the styles and approaches of other students at this less-early stage has not only allowed me to have formed a ‘control’ or a point of reference against which the work of others may be compared, but has also ensured that I am better equipped to maintain personal stylistic integrity while still being aware of and considering alternative methods and approaches to production. Most immediately, reading the work of my peers has highlighted the potential for diversity in observational writing while also providing insight into some of the potential avenues for experimentation and deviation from my perception of a ‘normal’ piece. Of particular note in this is alternative approaches to structure, for the various forms adopted by others, I believe, differ considerably from my own. I hope to be able to apply some of the techniques used by my peers in their work to my own in the future while maintaining a self-serving approach to writing.