[Doyi's Blog] First Week, First Blog...But That Film Doe

Because it’s been a week and a half since my move-in, I know that it’s around this time I should be writing about my impressions of Chicago, some initial assumptions, and later reflections. But not now. There’s just something really exciting I want to share immediately; the rest can wait a day or two.

So, what’s the news? 

Well, it might not sound as striking as I’ve introduced previously, but it was one of those slow, yet increasingly deep moments of academic awakening and inspiration. It all started with my Independent Study Project (ISP). I’m taking the Arts ISP, so my instructor, Jaxon Pallas, took me and the class to the Museum of Contemporary Art. 

Here’s me, being all touristy in front of the MCA.

Anyways, we mainly saw Simon Starling’s show, who used film as the primary medium. Among his works in the gallery, I’ve witnessed the most mind blowing piece of experimental film I have ever watched: Project Hiroshima. 

A narrator would tell the plot of a “play,” which was basically about the making and dropping of the atomic bomb during World War II. But it wasn’t that direct. He told the historical moment using another story, a traditional Japanese folklore, and somehow tied it to WWII Hiroshima. The funning thing is, the entire narration was the play. Similar to ancient Japanese Noh theatre, the play was delivered solely by the storyteller--in this case the narrator. There were no actors, no acting--at least not in the conventional sense. 

The “actors” of Project Hiroshima were different historical, popular figures (I’ll refer to them as icons) that represented the Japanese folklore characters, who then represented the actual people involved with the bomb-making (i.e. physicists, politicians, etc.). These icons ranged from James bond to Colonel Sanders. It didn’t make sense to me at first. What did Sanders have to do with Hiroshima, anyway? However, little did I know that every element, every character served as a reference to Japan, the atomic bomb, devastating post-war life, etc., in a way I had never imagined. And all this was told by one man, one narrator.

Then what was going on visually? Well, the narrator wasn’t there. Instead, an old Japanese sculptor was shown in his studio, carving wood. As the narration of the play introduced one character/ icon at a time, the sculptor made masks representing them. But other than that, the film did not show an enactment of the play’s synopsis. Visually, there were little to no display of an intro, rising/falling action, and conflict.  Here’s a picture of the guy’s work:

Honestly, Project Hiroshima was overwhelming, confusing, yet absorbing. I had to watch what was going on visually, while listening to the play-in-a-play narration of historical times and stories I wasn’t completely familiar with. When I tried to focus on what was said, I kept losing what I saw--and vice versa. Even until now, I don’t remember the details of the film. 

However, what I do remember is how creatively the “play” was executed. How it challenged what a play even meant, or is. The way it showed how heavily dependent I and other filmmakers were on visual stimulus and support to deliver a message or story. Most of all, it required constant, active--very active--mental participation from the viewer in order to more effectively consume the film’s content. Overall, Project Hiroshima was an intense brain workout: physically, conceptually, philosophically. 

I think I need more of that, considering my lazy-ass nature.

I'll end with me and the other masks. 

Until next time,

Doyi