FOR PROGRAMME OF FILMS
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C O N T A C T
sandy@londondancefilmfest.com
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ARTICLE 1
ON THE DEVELOPMENT OF DANCEFILM AS A CINEMATIC GENRE
In all its variety of forms and expressions, dance on film is celebrated and exhibited worldwide at over 45 specialist Dance Film Festivals every year from Anchorage to Athens.
Dance and Screen have been so inextricably linked since the beginnings of cinema that audiences and even many dance makers almost take them for granted.
Perhaps this familiarity contributes to why the dance film ‘genre', in relation to other cinematic endeavour, continues to remain under-developed as a singular creative medium. This immaturity has certainly impoverished the growth potential for a nascent critical language or a coherent democratic means to set in place uncontentious qualitative criteria.
Historically, dance on film has developed in a series of fruitful parallel paths. These range from late 19th century silent animations, through acclaimed and much lauded populist movie musicals, simultaneous with the making of less renowned but nonetheless important experimental "moving-image"-on-film work. All of this leavened by periodic forays in documenting many aspects of the above.
Many of these latter alternative directions have been the progenitors for the work increasingly found in art galleries, interactive choreographic design, video backdrops for live performance projects and a host of other creative manifestations. They form the bedrock of what is arguably regarded as the avant-garde of contemporary-dance based dancefilm, “post-modern” moving–image video and film work, also ambivalently referred to in certain scholastic circles as “post-choreographic” work.
This includes but is not limited to physio-kinetics, animation techniques, plasma-based movement-triggered clairvoyant technologies and audience controlled outcome projects, inter alia,. All of the areas of creative endeavour outlined above, overlap according to the tools of choice for the dance film maker, irrespective of the dance language in which they choose to work.
The vitality of this scene is reflected in the many celebrations of the work of the early pioneers such as Maya Deren, Anna Sokolow, Jose Limon et al.
Whilst acknowledging the inherent value of the edgier, intellectually and emotionally demanding innovations as unimpeachable standard bearers for the avant-garde, and even trend-setters for the vanguard, it is unarguable that the ongoing clamour for attention by the "new" has engendered a consequential skewing of support down a cul-de-sac of creative innovation for its own sake.
Too often this “innovation” is at the expense of audience accessibility, a measurable demonstration of skills or even an acknowledgement that public funding processes require accountability and statutorily scrutinised representation across entire creative horizons to avoid colonisation by vociferous, self-referential and occasionally militant minority-interest groups.
Dance film makers of every creative inclination have learned much from the clash between Hollywood commercial imperatives which drove the inventive, if overblown, creations of Busby Berkley, Hermes Pan, Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly, Bob Fosse and Powell and Pressburger who created The Red Shoes, et al.
Setting aside the vestiges of camp and banality however, these old-school film choreographic outings offer university courses in the essential qualities of breadth in cinematic vision and quality in choreographic expertise - surely the key DNA strands of “Dancefilm”.
Making “new” art and forging ahead with an avant-garde requires breaking the rules.
Breaking them however, requires a prior experience and firm grasp of their existence and function.
Irrespective of medium or message, presentational art forms by definition, are those created for presentation; whether they exist for the purposes of entertainment, enlightenment, education, the elevation of the condition humaine or can be mindlessly stashed under the stairs by some conceptual art fascists as merely “decorative arts”.
In a presentational context, audiences for the dance film form deserve to expect basic “rules” such as notions of Aristotlean unity and avoidance of poorly articulated or ill-considered visual metaphors. Furthermore, within an art form based on specific sets of technologies and technical expertise, a sine qua non for all practitioners within the snythetically nominated artform known as "dance-film", should be a demonstrable grasp of the fundamentals of cinematic framing and camera choreography.
These creative parameters, provide a contextual landscape within which to set a wider set of frames of reference and enable the deeper penetration to the heart of every art form. This is a necessary process akin to assisting children to develop the skills to separate colour spectra in order to avoid daubing everything grey-brown. This, better to facilitate the entry-skills to make meaning through a myriad set of possible abstract forms, ideas, or narrative and conceptual devices.
Affordable cine-clone and digital video technology, currently allows potential dancefilm makers at every level, the opportunity endlessly to experiment in how to achieve a complete and satisfactory synthesis of the skills outlined above, with minimal expertise and at almost nil cost but time.
Thanks to instant online, free Flash-conversion technology, and ever ready supplies of highly trained and inevitably “available” dancers, short dancefilms can be storyboarded, choreographed, cast, shot, edited and distributed online in fractions of the time, cost and resources previously required.
Encouragingly there is a glimmer of a sense of a “dancefilm” making community.
One in which young dancemakers from all dance disciplines are increasingly interested and are becoming sufficiently humble to learn more about the processes involved in film making prior to unloading unformed ouevres upon an unsuspecting world.
There now need to be more facilities of a less rarified, exclusive and scholastic structure put in place to build confidence, knowledge and platforms where access can be gained to mentors and teachers with a broader set of cinematic, directorial and choreographic skills and aesthetics, with the experience, style, expertise and the generosity to coherently and freely share this knowledge.
There needs to exist a common ground and language to foster ideas of how to develop clearly articulated overall ideas and design, a healthy understanding and respect for cinematic technique and when the project requires, choreographic design, clear notions of what constitutes maturity of approach and a collective disinclination to allow artists to continue to grow up on the paid-up time of audiences.
Future technology and audience development
The advent of boutique digital cinemas in most of the local regional arts centres, means that ever increasing exhibition and audience development opportunities now exist.
At the risk of a blinding glimpse of the obvious, in order for a true evolution of Dance-Film, the primary need is to facilitate resources to exhibit an ever wider spectrum of dance on film far more often, to far more people.
Allied to the power of accessible and inexpensive marketing channels, including increasingly, the online world, inevitably this will open up a wider and more informed critical debate and expose audiences to the possibilities of dance film across a broad horizon.
In time, a virtuous circle of greater awareness, focused marketing, steady income and support from developing ever broader audience bases and the ensuing motivation and resources for ongoing productivity from all areas of the “dance” and “moving-image” world will logically follow.
Dance on film will never supercede live dance. Film, while exciting and stimulating for many reasons, cannot replicate the unique, tangible frisson that can occur between well-made live performances and their audiences.
Dancefilm, however, possesses all of the potential to speak to audiences in an utterly different and satisfying way, which Andrei Tarkovski’s uniquely describes as the “poetics of cinema”.
Our task as dance film practitioners of every creative hue and inclination, over the coming years, is to work together to find a common language in which to speak with and to our several, different but nonetheless equally important constituent practitioners and audiences and strive to cross fertilise our activities at every opportunity.
We must be vociferous in urging all those interested and involved in dance on film, whether practitioner or audience to support these endeavours and be rigorously interrogative of the motives and imperatives of those who demonstrate a disinclination so to do.
Sandy Strallen
Curator - LIDFF 2007
ARTICLE 2
ON MAKING "THE RAIN"
A FILM MAKER'S DIARY BY GRETA SCHOENBERG DOCUMENTING THE PROCESSES OF MAKING PONTUS LIDBERG'S "THE RAIN" IN STOCKHOLM IN 2006
Studio Rehearsals
In the nonlinear process of film making, elements of the whole must be broken down into fragments like the seemingly disjointed pieces of a puzzle. Over ten years, each minute detail of this film took shape in director/choreographer Pontus Lidberg’s mind until it existed completely pre-edited, the puzzle fully assembled before his cast and crew arrived. This allowed him to be impressively organized in the studio, preparing dancers for the tightly scheduled filming week to come. Over several months, the sequences were created as a whole, then broken down into mini-scenes, where camera angle and tight spacing were built
into the choreography. From broad traveling steps with long reaching limbs to quiet close- ups of a single hand or ear, the work was made entirely for the camera.
With a strong education in music, Pontus set precise counts and phrasing, drilling the dancers in unison on phrases they had in common. Although they’d never actually perform these phrases together, the footage of them dancing individually would need to be edited together without interruptions in rhythm or tempo. Music would be played from speakers on only some of the sets, while for others the dancers would need to rely on an internal rhythmic memory.
The dramatic sensibility required for film is different from that of most dancer’s training for stage. Their expressions and gestures must be exaggerated enough to read from the balcony of an opera house. Pontus favors subtlety, choosing stolen glances between characters and simple human gestures over melodrama. Thus he needed an elite cast of dancers who were not only solid technicians, but well-rounded artists mature and intuitive enough to contribute something more personal. Drawing from eclectic sources, he has a keen eye for finding just this rare breed. The ensemble proved to be exceptionally professional, braving the elements and unusual challenges within the film’s premise for five soggy days of filming.
Filming Day One: Street Scenes
Cast and crew gathered at 10 pm on Bastugaten, a timeless cobblestone street winding steeply uphill to meet church spires silhouetted in the slow summer sunset. Grips dressed in full firemen’s gear hoisted sprinklers up high poles to drench this warm night with the wintery rain that would permeate every moment of the film. There were twenty four scenes to shoot before 5 a.m., each requiring specific timing to catch the natural light for “dawn/dusk” or “night’” shots. There were unexpected challenges like illegally parked vehicles, distracting signage, and most disturbingly, open windows directly in the line of fire for full torrential flooding. One unsuspecting elderly woman’s apartment was inadvertently drenched and a couple crew members had to run upstairs to mop her apartment at two a.m.. Taxis regularly insisted on driving directly through the set, and since the street could not legally be blocked, everything had to be called to a halt, cast and crew peeling to the sides as if children playing a ball game in the street.
The dancers were facing the realities of performing their studio rehearsed material in street shoes on a slippery cobblestone hill under freezing cold rain in the wee hours of the morning. Although he did everything he could to make them as comfortable as possible, Pontus would not dilute their movement to accommodate the obvious obstacles. Patient and focused through the last 5:30 am shot, they managed to maintain precise spacing, their carefully drilled rhythmic timing (now without music), and through heavy rain and blinding light managed to burst out again and again with luscious, longing movement and soft dramatic moments. It took some skill in the editing room to keep their blue lips and goose bumps out of the final edit, but they quickly earned the respect of everyone present. Those who may have questioned Pontus’ seemingly impossible vision were appeased after glimpses of this first footage.
Day Two: Hedda in the Park
Set in the oldest park in northern Europe, Hedda Staver Cooke danced her main solo material on a large grassy field surrounded by 300 year old trees. The Royal Park Authority had some concerns about the use of excessive water on the lawn, but arrangements were made and water was pumped from the park’s lake by multiple fire hoses that carried it to high sprinklers on the set. The day was off to a slow start, with a number of technical hang-ups that pushed the first take later into the afternoon. The initial shots of Hedda under a tree were exquisite, surrounding her with dappled sunlight and sparkling water drops. Then after days of clear skies, the clouds started rolling in. Maybe Joni Mitchell summoned them. Her recording of “Both Sides Now” projected across the field on speakers as she repeated the line, “but clouds got in my way”. At first it was just a matter of waiting long enough between takes until someone yelled out “Sun!” . It soon became a lost cause and supplemental lighting had to be rigged. Although it was disappointing and the effect was not quite as dazzling as imagined, Hedda danced with such abandon that one would never know she was shivering under blankets before each take.
Night scene:
Later that evening everyone reconvened in another urban park to film just one short scene of Hedda walking through a tree lined path, slowly pinning up her hair. Lamps lined the walkway and were accentuated by additional floodlights hidden behind the trees. On film the scene looks desolate, a solitary pensive moment as the character contemplates her recent loss, but actually the park was bustling with curious evening picnickers that had to be diplomatically kept out of the shot.
Day Three: Men’s Duet
Day three was the first day of shooting indoors on a sound stage at the Swedish Film Institute. The controlled indoor setting would seem to eliminate the challenges of the previous shoots, but once the sprinklers went on the floor became so slippery that capturing this highly athletic duet became more and more problematic. It took many, many takes, each section painstakingly shot one or two steps at a time. Inching ahead, one lift was attempted at least ten times as Pontus and dancer Giovanni Bucchieri slipped and slid their way through, losing each other’s grip or traction with the floor over and over again. The crew also had their hands full, a team of moppers on the ready to swab the decks between takes as veteran cinematographer Ralph Evers relyed on his many years experience to keep the quick action in frame. The set and costumes also had to be carefully monitored to maintain continuity as props were disturbed by the tumbling men and had to be precisely replaced. At one point, Pontus’ pants tore and everyone had to wait while they were mended. Within many wet hours, these two childhood friends somehow found a way to support each other and channel their frustration into an aggressive intensity that eventually made this lovers’ duet one of the strongest scenes of the film.
Day Four: Tying Loose Ends, Bathroom & Bedroom Scenes :
After reviewing the footage from the previous day’s shoot of the men’s duet, Pontus wasn’t satisfied with the framing of the ending position, as well as with a segment of the group phrase shot in silhouette that would later tie characters together. But time had been up for the day and the set needed to be struck to build the next sets. Pontus had overnight to figure out how to save these two moments.
He decided to use a corner of the new bedroom set to recreate one corner of the living room from the day before. After referring to the previous day’s tapes, props were carefully placed and light was projected on a wall through a blind-like filter to imitate light coming through the original window. With the camera at a new angle, the light would now make a full profile shadow of the men’s ending pose, projected perfectly on the wall behind them so that the moment could be seen from two perspectives simultaneously, an image stronger than the original.
Silouette:
Still missing was the important linking choreography from the silhouette section. By painting two pieces of plywood black and mounting them in front of a new bathroom set, the illusion of a doorway was created. The men danced in this door frame, which also brought a second connection of the bathroom to the living room as if within the same apartment.
The Bathtub:
Some establishing shots were needed to open the film while keeping the indoor rain a surprise until it would be revealed in the cafe. Each character was therefore introduced in a setting where water would be a natural occurrence, with Pontus in the bathtub. The shot would also create a connection between the bathroom and the living room where the men’s duet would take place. It required however, that Pontus direct the crew from the tub, which definitely brought a chuckle or two.
Bedroom Duet:
The surface of the bedroom set was again an issue for the young couple’s duet, danced by Filip Gauffin and Alicia Vikander. The choreography proved impossible in bare feet, but was manageable with rubber-bottomed socks. Rather than detracting from this love scene with the awkward look of socks, Pontus decided to take just a few wide shots showing the dancers doing only the more pedestrian movements in bare feet. The rest of the duet was shot tighter so they could wear the sticky socks for more demanding movements without the feet being seen. For lifts, Filip was wearing socks while Alicia was lifted barefoot, meaning most lifts had to be shot separately to get the framing right. In the end, the tight camera work made the scene more intimate.
Day Five: The Cafe
Everyone arrived early to an empty set that was to be the cafe. It took hours to equip the space with everything from furniture and wall art (by a local artist), to place settings, condiments and salt and pepper shakers. The bar was stocked, glasses arranged, and finally all was ready to be drenched in rain for hours on end, including a beautiful chrome espresso machine.
The ten extras were placed at tables and around the bar, and small interactions were preset so they could to be timed consistently off visual cues from the dancers. Discrepancies between takes in relation to the dancer’s movement could mean jump cuts and challenges in the editing room. For the next several hours these unsuspecting volunteers would endure cold pouring rain and drenching splashes off the dancers feet with seeming pleasant indifference. The initial novelty may have worn off after the lunch break when they had to return to their soaking wet clothes, but the end effect was a realistic bustling cafe, complete with flirting couples who provide contrast to the breakup scene of the main characters.
Most details were thought out before the rain began, including a heavier drip around Hedda’s entrance to simulate water coming off an entryway. But the hanging cafe lights began flickering as their round glass fixtures filled with water, and it was clear they had not been properly sealed. Although it would push the day back, Pontus insisted on keeping them in the set as he felt they were important to the mood of the scene. Everyone waited as they were tediously taped with plastic bags, and when done it was agreed they did add important ambience.
Finally ready to begin Giovanni’s solo, his boot broke just before the first take. He’d already worn these slightly unique boots for a short entry sequence preceding the men’s duet, so they had to be taped together for his entire splashing solo. As he danced, the newly painted floor peeled with every slip and slide, red paint chips clinging to his clothing and skin, looking like wounds that had to be removed before continuing. Luckily the effect was that of realistic wear and tear, making the cafe look more established than if it had been built that morning.
Day Six: Outside the Swedish Stock Exchange
Everyone was more relaxed this last night, with less material to get through and fewer obstacles to deal with. The only real issue was that the indoor lights of the Stock Exchange were left on, so instead of seeing large loft windows reflecting the evening sky, one saw slightly less romantic desks and computers. The shots were re-angled and again near disaster was averted. Now with room to play, Pontus had one of the mounted overhead lights rigged to flicker as dancer Yvan Auzely passed under it, creating a momentary film noir strobe effect.
Yvan had learned from his chilly filming experience earlier in the week and had an idea that was pure genius. He wore a wet suit under the business suit that was his costume and thus managed to remain warm all night. Not only did it help his comfort, it sped the process by allowing multiple takes without breaks to warm up. Poor Hedda, however, had to get back into full dress and endure the rain for one last gesture shot. Squeeling, she dipped under the downpour unseen but for her hands as they caressed Yvan’s face. The cement surface was so much more conducive to dancing, Yvan had the luxury of being able to complete full flowing phrases without interruption, giving a glimpse of how the final edited film would look, with the puzzle neatly put back together, choreography fully intact. In the wee hours of the morning everyone gathered to watch this admired veteran move, eating up space with his long limbs and lingering at the end of phrases, drawing some moments out before exploding into others. There was a little sadness in the air as Ms. Mitchell crooned one last time, and this family would have to go separate ways.
Of course, Pontus wouldn’t get away without a full cast and crew water pistol ambush.
Although she was the instigator of the sly plot, Hedda was nice enough to give him his own gun to use in his defense. His shot only bubbles.
Two months after the filming Hedda emailed her Regnet family to announce she was four months pregnant. With simple math one realized what it must have taken for her to rise to
the occasion as she did, although it does account for some of her unique glow in this film.
She and her husband Bjørn had their first child in March.
Written by Greta Schoenberg
Photos by Greta Schoenberg, Yvan Auzely, and Mathilde Dedye
COPYRIGHT: GRETA SCHOENBERG 2007 |