Freyaskatt

In general, the soundtrack is comprised of three parts according to the plot. In the beginning, all we hear are ambiance sounds, foley, dialogues, body props, and other props, just like in any standard movie. Interesting to note that in the first part of the soundtrack all sounds seem to be slightly washed out, implicit and faded. This corresponds mainly to the long and medium shots that reflect the action. The fading background sounds are emphasized by bright and expressive inserts with classical music. The use of classical pieces here provides a special elevated mood. For example, in the scene with open-heart surgery.

In scenes where the tension begins to rise, the composer uses the dissonant sounds of the accordion. The distorted and dark accompaniment by Janne Rattya brought out delicately into the background offers an additional layer of intensity and dread.

Basically, the sound of the first part of the film can be called naturalistic and quite standard for the horror films of a ‘new wave’. The only difference is the use of accordion which gives a rather unusual sounding.

Starting from the 41st min, the soundtrack changes. Sounds acquire greater clarity, higher levels of volume, and more expressiveness. For the first time, we hear the main "ominous" theme of the film which has been played on strings (cello). This corresponds well to the increased use of close-ups. Sounds are becoming more and more abstract occupying more space and conveying the feeling of chaos and growing fear. The layer with industrial sounds is introduced as well. Although the scenes themselves are quite peaceful, all sound design makes the picture look very cold and sinister.

Further, the range of threatening sounds expands. The sounds of the environment and even the dialogues are drowning in this deluge of abstract sounds. The dialogues are brought out into the subjective space of the heroes’ perception and everything feels like in a dream.

An interesting scene on 46 min, where teenagers ride on a bike through the night city. This romantic scene is suppressed by the completely abstract ominous sound of orchestral instruments, dissonances of strings, drums, interspersed with pauses of complete silence.

There is also an amazing scene of a car that drives through the suburbs in complete silence. This looks so surreal and we could feel how the protagonist is completely immersed in the inner world of fear.

In the dialogues of the second part of the film, the sounds of the surroundings become as convex and picturesque as possible. We feel very close to the characters. At the same time, a greater distance between them may be felt even more despite the close-ups and soulful dialogues. This masterfully shown contradiction between objective reality and what actually happens is largely conveyed through sound.

In the climax, which is the third part of the film, we notice that all the accents and dissonances grow at their maximum, moving like waves - sharply decreasing and reappearing. Long drones on one note of strings, flutes, and the cries of a piano. Harsh and unpleasant visceral body sounds. All this makes the viewer feel monstrously tense.

The final scene also uses classical pieces that give the horror events shown a sense of the contradictive sublime, even transcendental awe.

Eventually, this unique soundtrack ruled the film’s atmosphere to the level that it has become a unique and strong dramatic theatrical play. An interesting rethinking of an ancient myth.

If you watch a film without a soundtrack, however, then I’d say it would feel differently, just as one of these high-quality thrillers made in Hollywood. Although it would seem insanely drawn out and even boring somewhere.

In ‘Ascension’, viewed from underwater, a male figure violently crashes into a stillness of water and hovers in cruciform. Lit by horizontal beams of blue light, the figure sinks then rises and sinks again. We could see the crucifix twice, the first time when he crushes into the water, and at the end, when he ascends to the surface, and we could see the cross in surface reflection. The movement of the body in water is shown as extremely slowed fall and ascension, same with the sound which is also slowed down to a level when it becomes low and ethereal.

This work has multiple meanings, as the human body may be translated as a vessel or a physical node of connection charged with the invisible divine presence. In ‘Ascension’ we see how this spiritual notion informs casual space: sinking body fluctuates in a pool, and water and body serve as a portal into a sacred reality that transcends space and time.

Here Viola symbolically evokes the self-emptying paradox (kenosis) at the heart of Christianity: the ever-living God freely becomes mortal, diving down (in the person of Christ) into a broken world of temporality and death, giving his life in order to rescue fallen humanity, leading them back to eternity.

Talking of the technical side, it should be noted how perfectly works the dramatic focussed lighting with water setting. The lighting is set that it illuminates only the part of the water that surrounds the figure. My guess is that Viola used a focussed source of light and light control flags for the rest of the pool to cut down unnecessary diffusion of light and create a central focal point. The key light is placed from above the surface whereas the camera sits underwater statically. This allowed for illumination of the silhouette and revealed the texture of water bubbles in front of the figure. Exquisitely beautiful, this light illuminates the surface above the figure, giving the space even greater depth.

It should also be said about the depth of the black-blue tone that Viola managed to achieve in surrounding waters. I think this was achieved using light flags with certain hue and following post-processing of colours. Overall, the moving imagery looks like a ‘portrait painting’ similar to the Old Masters paintings with their ability to rule the depth and saturation of colour.

In ‘Ascension’ the sound is processed in accordance with the idea of manipulating the perception of time. It is slowed down to such a level that it acquired an unearthly quality. We feel as though we are in timeless space or maybe an afterlife. Amazing video.

As both artists have completely different body complexion and motoric skills it allows them to create an unusual symbiosis of a ‘pseudo-pair’ where partners complement each other well.

The performance lasts 30 minutes, including scenes with sound effects and the ones where we could hear only human voices. That serves successfully for putting right accents on important moments and manipulates our attention.

The piece consists of scenes where the characters could sit on chairs or stand on stage as if speaking to the public or journalists. Further, they are shown in profile in a low-key light, actively debating with each other. 

These scenes are interspersed with intriguing episodes that show subjective perception of how characters can perform their functions, being limited by something (e.g., the scope of their ‘political’ powers). Within the show, these restrictions are brought to an absolute and represent a limitation of the ability to physically control their bodies. As such the characters roll across the stage, forming chaotic and sometimes even creepy bodily compositions.

For more intensity, these sequences are entwined with a sort of ‘battle’ on markers. The characters being playing politicians, draw plans while interfering each other, crossing out what is written by the other side and confusing the whole process of ‘making plans’. Literally, we could see chaos on a verbal level that is an outcome of previous “subconscious” level (where bodies were rolling).

Within the show, the lighting is often set as on a theatrical stage or a TV program. However, there are sequences where characters use only gestures without saying anything. In this case, the low-key light is designed to emphasize the expression of gestures. I found it beautifully done.

Going to the soundtrack, it is an acoustic ambient that, at certain moments, powerfully sets the uprising tension and controls major narrative rhythms.

As to the editing, in the last scene I have noticed that they used the split screen and masking, so that the characters could be on the same level and say different things at the same time. It is also interesting to note that each of the characters would look at their own camera and they are lit in slightly different ways. 

My general impression from the performance was that the artists deprived the social role of ‘politician’ from its meaningful semantics, while trying to depict only politician's body language in different situations. It has done to such an extent that it is now perceived almost as a mental illness where a person is able to recognize objects but cannot identify them because of the brain injury. It is a strange and unpleasant feeling. We all know that politicians rely heavily on non-verbal body language to successfully achieve their goals. This video performance brings this to the point of absurdity and exposes the cynicism of manipulating the human psyche.

As I have experienced this work online, I would not say it would be different if to watch it in person, as it is screen-based work. Unless we mention the importance of cultural environment of physical festival in which this video piece would be a part of.

Here is the link to the performance:

https://bleedonline.net/program/becoming-the-icon/becoming-the-icon-film/

Following are the stills from the performance:

My attempt to replicate the lighting in reference scene 2

Blade Runner (1982) ~ reference scene 1

Blade Runner (1982) ~ reference scene 2

My attempt to replicate the lighting in reference scene 2

Technically speaking, the piece has 51 cuts. It is interesting that it has a mathematically determined frequency of cuts which tends to change during the video, thus creating specific punctuation. It starts with the establishing shot that is 10 seconds long, then switching between the shots rhythmically, gradually increasing the shots length from 3-4 seconds to 5-6 seconds. During the first minute, we could see two sequences when shots change every second, and they are coloured differently to other footage.

Closer to the second part of the video, shots became longer, as the action is getting slower. It is determined with the narrative when all the owls look tired and sleepy. Probably, they have got tired of an owl’s dialogue. Also, the second part of the video has two comparatively long shots (one is 9 seconds, and two are 7 seconds each). They are always followed by short sequences that create a nice and interesting tempo and keep the viewer from boredom. The last shot is 15 seconds long and it was made with the dolly-zoom effect.

I assume that the repetitive structure of shots allows the artist to imitate a sense of a ‘haiku’ poem which has a certain set of writing rules. The repetition is widely used here to keep up with the narrative as well because it is presented as the idea of an ‘interview’, or a ‘dialogue’ of different birds. Repetition allows us to sustain a specific “psychedelic” atmosphere as well, given that the artist uses colour toning for some shots to deepen this reading.

Some frames were taken with camera moving, such as the one the mice, or aviary façade, or the last shot with the dolly-zoom. Moving camera facilitates the sense of a present moment in a real space where the story happens. Also, it helps to support the concept of owls talking to each other (or thinking loudly) and reveals some details of their usual daily routine (mice eating, etc.) In this regard, editing serves not only to create a poetic pattern but also helps to link protagonists in a certain relationship within one space.

As for the temporality, the cuts weave the timeline that tells the story of one summer day. Except for the beginning, all cuts made are the hard cuts. There is one transition between the title of the film and the first frame.

Without the sound, the relationship between the shots is naturally conceptual, as most of the shots are closeups; and medium and big closeups are mixed with a few mid shots. Eventually, we see different types of owls being ‘interviewed’. Such a sizing can demonstrate a variety of personalities of owls and some of their significant behaviours, like 180 degrees head-turning and a stony stare.

If we turn the sound on, however, the meaning changes. The murmuring sound of two voices creates an illusion of a dialogue. The sound is processed with a futzbox effect (as if it comes out from the old broken radio receiver). Also, it is psychedelically distorted and overlaid. Such crafting of sound allows the artist to play with the space perception and to shift the whole set into the surreal world where the owls behave almost like people. Mostly, the sound goes along with the shots, not against them.

Overall, I think it is quite an interesting example of video work, as it considers how the meaning is created through editing.

Video cameras originally designed for television broadcast in the 1960s were large and heavy, mounted on special pedestals, and wired to remote recorders in separate rooms. In the 1970s, as technology improved, out-of-studio video recording was possible with compact video cameras and portable video recorders. Obviously, miniaturisation of video devices has led to an increase in public accessibility. It allowed a lot of artists in the Bay Area to start experiments with video technology.

Most of the video experimentation was politically charged. Artists used the language of mass media broadcasting to challenge the ways official media present information to the audience, and further to reveal socio-political issues of the time. One of the projects, TVTV (by ANT Farm) aimed to create an alternative video coverage of political conventions.  Also, ANT Farm presented videos about Vietnam veterans, the case that was completely ignored by the official mass media.

Another collective of artists, T.R. Uthco, was interested in a way the meaning is constructed through visuals.  In collaboration with ANT Farm, they created such projects as ‘The Eternal Fame’, a recorded performance which was a re-enactment of the assassination of J. F. Kennedy.  Another piece was called ‘Media Burn’ – footage of American car that crushes into the wall of TVs.

Basically, most of the artistic video works produced in the 1970s in the Bay Area meant to interrogate the privileged power of mass media in order to question and re-think the objective reality of the world.

Another interesting point of artistic practice at that time was a fascination with technological possibilities of a new medium. Artists such as Skip Sweeney used a ‘feedback’, or abstract images created directly out of the TV signal, which means turning the video medium back on itself.

Today's situation is in many ways similar to the 1970s, however, I consider it much worse because the COVID-19 pandemic affected all the world economies and ignited a new round of geopolitical struggle. The artists of the 1970s put great hopes on materiality of a new technology and how it may change the world. However, the world stayed the same. 

Now when we are currently living in the Post-Internet age, video technology is no longer an advent. It is no longer the non-commercial artistic space either. Post-Internet age stands on the shoulders of the Net art and early video art experiments. As Mark Tribe stated, Post-Internet artists should “crush the past and reassemble the fragments in strange offline hybrid forms”.