Masters of Light

Into the Inferno, Werner Herzog (2016)

Family of Saltimbanques, Pablo Picasso 1905

Dreams - Akira Kurosawa (1990)

Dreams is simply one of my favorite films ever made. It’s beyond brilliant - it’s a visual and auditory poem composed by a master. The first time I saw it was when it came out, and I was 8 or 9. Even then I remember being totally enthralled by and transported into the kaleidoscope of Kurosawa’s most intimate thoughts, hopes and fears.

It is, as the name suggests, based on the director’s actual dreams, and was the first screenplay of his long and acclaimed career that he wrote completely solo. The film consists of eight short vignettes and are only loosely related by their similar tone, and themes of man’s relationship to his environment, as well as the importance of observing ritual.

The Red Shoes, Dir. Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger (1948)

This seminal technicolor psychodrama-musical is an example of not just mastery of light, but of all aspects of production. The art direction, sets, make-up, costumes, choreography and incredible color palette are exquisite. The film itself is terrifying, and made quite an impression on me when I first saw it as a child. My mother, who did not allow me to watch horror films, showed it to me because I was taking dance classes and she thought I would enjoy it for the dancing, but it's about so very much more.

The Red Shoes tells the story of an ambitious and promising young dancer (played by real-life ballerina Moira Shearer) Vicky Page, whose big break is dancing the lead in the production of a ballet based on Hans Christian Anderson's eerie fairytale of the same name. In the fable, a young girl is tempted by an evil cobbler to don a pair of pretty red shoes, only to find herself locked in a death dance with the objects of her desire.  The film loosely mirrors these themes of compulsion and desire, as Vicky is driven by creative obsession and torn ruthlessly between life as a normal person and the often lonely path of an artist, to tragic results. 

In Cold Blood: A Parable in Black and White (Richard Brooks, 1967)

Conrad Hall's masterful black and white imagery in Richard Brooks' In Cold Blood remains one of the heavy weights of classic cinematography. Adapted from Truman Capote's captivating true-crime novel of the same name about a family's senseless murder in 1959 Kansas, what could have been a sensationalistic B-movie was instead a deeply insightful reflection on the nature of criminal transgressions and the human soul.

The darkness of the characters' psyches are rendered in the stark noir lighting, while the dreariness of the American badlands overwhelm them with their vastness. The film takes place almost entirely at night and indoors, and the lighting is so sparse and restrained it looks almost medieval. In one of the most iconic sequences, the tears sociopathic Perry (Robert Blake in a prophetic and gripping performance) cannot or will not shed are projected onto his face through a rainy windowpane.

Less Than Zero - Marek Kanievska (1987)

As an Angelino, this film has a special place in my heart. It's on my Top Ten Films About Los Angeles list without a doubt. There are many things worthy of praise; the excellent use of the city's architectural treasures, like The Elks Lodge and Lautner's Silvertop House, The melodramatic yet  pitch-perfect performances from Brat pack staples James Spader and Andrew McCarthy, and of course Robert Downey Jr.'s prophetic appearence as an out of control silver spoon junky, which eerily foretold his own personal descent to rock bottom years later.

Bret Easton Ellis' now classic tale of Los Angeles nihilism and ennui is set in a palate of deep saturated hues, and never has a time and a place  been so perfectly realized. The characters are illuminated by club lights, street lights, crack pipes and the rippling waves of light cast off their daddy's swimming pools. It's 80's Melrose neon noir perfection.

Several years ago I was fortunate enough to visit this "Skybox" installation by light artist James Turrell. The room is outfitted with recessed lighting around the edges of the floor, and a bed sunken into the ground for viewing the sky. As the twilight hour approaches, two beveled skylights open to reveal the sage-scented Los Angeles sky.

The entire room is bathed in deeply saturated colored light, and the color of the sky changes in accordance with the eyes' adjustments. Truly marvelous. It was my first introduction to his work, which I absolutely loved, but since it's located on the grounds of a private home (which was in itself amazing) I wasn't able to share it with anyone else.

My friend Wendy posted this on her Facebook page and I was immediately in love.

I scanned these beautiful Guilded Age postcards of Downtown LA yesterday for our archive at work, and had to share. I love the brooding gothic atmosphere, and can totally picture a wild-eyed Wyatt Earp driving his stagecoach up Main Street, as the legend goes.