“In order to listen we must stop, or at least slow down – physically and psychologically.” (Wrightstson, An Introduction to Acoustic Ecology). Listening involves more than hearing, its an active process that involves interpreting the din and noise around you into meaningful signals. For my soundwalk, I did just that in the neighborhood I go through everyday. The Gramercy/Murray Hill/Kip’s Bay area, I walked up First Avenue across twenty-eighth street and down Lexington until Gramercy Park. This neighborhood is bustling with Indian restaurants, hospitals and students. As I actively listened and interpreted the noise around me, I was able to focus on certain sounds and their purpose. I was shocked at my ability to hone in on a certain noise and concentrate on it.


KEYNOTE: A very strident keynote, or background noise during my soundwalk was the incessant drilling of a construction worker on a manhole on 1st Avenue and 26th Street. As I left my dorm on 25th, I could hear the rhythmic drone and drill of metal on pavement. It started as a hum, escalated to a crunch and culminated in unbearable drilling noise, in which if I had tried to say something to the person next to me, he would have had to cringe to understand. An interesting thing about this drilling noise is that might have began as a typical cityscape keynote; a background noise to fill the space. Because sound waves attenuate, the noise was bearable from afar, yet upon approaching them they could no-longer stand as passive keynote.


SOUND SIGNALS: One sound signal or foreground sound intended to attract attention that I could not ignore on my soundwalk, was the loud Bollywood-inspired music that roared from a the Banana Leaf Restaurant on Lexington Avenue. The owner consciously played this music from the dining room in hopes of attracting customers with an appetite for naan and curry. The music first grabbed my attention as I turned the corner from 28th to Lexington. An allegro tabla line combined with the squeaky scales of the main female singer. Perhaps, because I could not understand the language, I could concentrate on the intricate rhythms and layers of the music. This music is meant to be inviting to customers, and it says, “We’re an Indian Restaurant, Exotic! With Music! Come EAT!”


SOUNDSCAPE: Because this neighborhood does not have a definite identity and is a cluster of medical and professional buildings- hospitals, clinics, dental schools, and Stuy-Town, it would be difficult to name a soundscape. But as a resident of the area, I could easily pinpoint the most recognizable sound for the neighborhood—the blaring ambulance horns. In fact during my 35 minute stroll, I heard a total of 4 individual ambulances blaring through 23rd Street, Up 1st Avenue or down Park Avenue. These sirens have the implication—of medical concern, haste and precedent over any other vehicle in its path. Yet because of the neighborhoods dynamic, it also means you are close to a hospital.

HN543

Walking into Hunter North 543, any Media 150 student may wonder how much media can they fit into one black box room? The answer, of course, is “a lot.” A huge filming screen, an audio room, Mac computers with interactive games, a big screen TV, and projections onto cloth canvases lined the walls of the Hunter’s Media Department’s Graduate Showcase. After an hour or so of perusing, a few pieces stuck out. The clever iAM by Megan Speary is a visual play on words, and commercialism. The repeating lists of “i + VERB,” conclude with the double-entendre “iAM a buy-product.” Just as thought provoking is the clever “Bare Market” coloring book collection, which allows visitors to color in the depictions of bailouts and white collar con-artists. Another interactive installment included a digital “slot machine” of commercial image. The visual bombardment exemplifies the tendency of the human mind to correlate unrelated images. Further down the line, a rather tasteless (in my opinion), computer program attacked the American disease of obesity. Unclear statistics coupled with a slide show of exploitive, and seemingly unoriginal, images taunted the issue, instead of comprehensively suggesting ways to improve the epidemic. While I found the majority of the pieces inspiring, one video-short captured my attention because of its ability to parallel visual and audio elements with the emotive aspects of the narrative.


“Wives of Spies (or where they found it),” by A.E. Souzis “explore(s) the physical and psychic collisions between global politics, surveillance, secrecy and public and private lives.” In the course of four and half minutes, the viewer experiences the lives of three women, as they narrate, in their native languages’ where they discovered that their husbands were double-agents. The piece begins with audio “bleeps” and a small blinking google map. The first wife names the a location of her discovery—“Arriba (upstairs).” More bleeping, blinking, zooming in and naming of domestic locations culminate into a chaotic aesthetic overload of nine google maps, radio transmissions, and three different languages. These artistic choices mirror the mounting drama of unraveling a secret. A “blinking” glimpse of data will confirm a “bleeping” suspicion until thousands of pieces of evidence berate the investigator/viewer’s mind. The installment ends with one of the wives cooly declaring, “locked in a box.” Just like a secret kept hidden from your spouse, the video medium is locked in a box—a television screen in Hunter North 543. I found it astounding that the artist’s concrete and technical choices mirrored the human experience behind the piece’s narrative.

Convergence in SoHo

This Friday, a friend and I had the opportunity to see one of my favorite actresses at the Apple Store in SoHo. Natalie Portman, the beautiful and talented Harvard graduate, has starred in the Star Wars Episodes I-III, Garden State, Mars Attacks, Paris Je T'aime and V for Vendetta. As part of the Tribeca Film Festival, Ms. Portman along with her colleague Christine Aylward launched a new interactive website to the audience of about 200 at the Apple Store on Prince Street.

Makingof.com was designed to be a centralized database of interviews, footage and insight that showcases and explores the "behind the scene" aspects of movie-making. Portman and Aylward, wanted to create a space where the unsung heroes--cinematographers, costume designers, camera men, screenwriters--could relate their talents and choices, both artistically and technically. According to the duet, the website is targeted toward anyone "who loves entertainment." With such specific details as what lens were used in particular scenes and the philosophy of costume design the information is accesible for students of film and viewers of film alike. The website is divided into a three categories, so that users can pursue particular artists, films of the past or what's "filming now." Aylward commented that as technology improves, she wanted to also "open things up" from behind the scenes. She commented on how the industry can be very closed off, inadvertently or not and how it's challenging to network in very much "family business."

For Ms. Portman this strikes a familiar chord. Acting on film from a very young age, the 28 year-old recently tackled directing two shorts for the upcoming "New York I love You" (a collection of small films ala Paris, Je T'aime) "I thought I knew so much," Ms. Portman conceded but as she had to communicate with the dozens of production workers, she realized she did not. Although Ms. Portman had connections from her career in the business, for the layman, struggling student or avid movie-goer this information was scattered and out-of-reach.

I couldn't help notice the overall-arching theme of convergence at this event. Obviously, convergence in the sense that the lines between movie maker and movie goer has been blurred (As Aylward noted in the "youtube generation"). Convergence in the sense that the line between mediums has been blurred- film information on a website. Personally, the most poignant point of convergence, if you will, had to do with Natalie herself. Crossing over from Actress to Director, might not be a new transition. Yet in this day and age the ability to understand both the facets of production as well as performance are as vital as ever. Through technology and websites like makingof.com, the worlds have collided.

Check out: www.makingof.com

Design I FLIP for...

In tackling this Design I Like blog, I wanted to consider both the aesthetic and functional aspects of design. In surveying my dorm room for an object that offered both things, I landed on my Puredigital Flip Video camera. This 6-inch by 2-inch slab of plastic can capture up to one hour of footage, in a sleek and intuitive design.

Aesthetically the flipvideo camera is very modern and sleek. Its white and orange casing lacks any of the extraneous buttons, logos and plugs that had hampered earlier designs. The orange plastic outlines the sides and lens of the camera, while the white casing slides open to hold the batteries. Small gray letter fill the bottom right hand corner with the “flip” logo. On the screening side of the camera, a small 1” x 1” screen fills the upper half of the camera, with a simple control panel beneath it. This interface has a gray background. The buttons are symmetrical in design with a central red button surrounded by two arrow buttons to the left and right, and “plus” and “minus “ buttons to the top and bottom. Approaching the camera as a composition, it is balanced in this nature; no one side is has a disproportional amount of buttons, logos or colors. Aesthetically I find the bright shiny white and orange colors stimulating and inviting. The design suggests ease, openness and comfortablity with its light color scheme and compact size.

The design of the controls and buttons of the flip camera extends these impressions to functional. Using the vocabulary of Donald Norman’s Guide to “POET” (the psychology of everyday things), each control button and option affords and constrains appropriately. The larger red button “affords” being pushed as do all others on the screen interface. To the bottom of the “sliding” lock function with three grips affords the “sliding” motion, as do the on and off slider on the upper left hand side and the “flipping” USB slider on the right hand side. There is no mistaking what these controls do. These buttons are constrained by very sleek and simple symbols. The “+” and “-“ signs constrain these buttons to either add or subtract. When recording they logically zoom in or out, when playing back a clip, they raise or lower the volume. The red center button indicates recording or stopping; the triangle button to the left constrains to playing and playback. To the left and right of the red record button the “arrow” signs constrain the function to scrolling between videos. All in all, the user intuitively figures out how each button works, and what their corresponding functions are.

The simple design and lack of fancy buttons coupled with compact size makes the Puredigital Flipcamera an inviting tool for young media makers. Its bright design, orange, white and gray color schemes say, “I’m open for business.” Its size says, “take me anywhere” and its lack of buttons say, “Grandma Myra could figure me out.”

Escalators, Jewish Angels and White Rappers

The first annual CUFF, City University Film Festival, kicked off with a collection of student films this Sunday. Dozens of students and parents poured into the Macaulay Building, on West 67th Street to view the top fourteen student films of the over fifty submitted. The pieces ranged from documentaries, music videos and stop-motion animation. While a distinguished independent panel chose the top three movies, the audiences got to cast their secret ballot of their top three.
I thoroughly enjoyed every film, including the top three: "Bus Stop Sonata" by Eric Levy, "EscaLover," by Chun Kai Yang, and "Dance of Life" by Iin Purwanti. Nevertheless, I found myself enthralled by two consecutive pieces, which particuliarly struck a chord and reaffirmed the flexible power of the moving image.

First was Liat Krawczyk's "Those Places Between." Although the Hunter College senior had to edit down her documentary about the homeless teenagers of New York for the festival, the compelling stories of three troubled young men reached everyone in the audience. Shot on her handheld camera, Liat follows Johnny, Arthur and Alex. The threes stories intertwine between personal interviews and outrageous on-scene footage. It truly astounds me how far and much Liat followed these teenagers. From Drag bars, to the Covenant House and even sniffing cocaine in a Starbuck's bathroom, Krawczyk unapolegetically revealed the lives of these individuals. It's most striking aspect is its pervasive familiarity. I noticed the audience's initial reactions to the carefree, hedonistic, "sex, drugs, rock'n'roll" comments of the three youths. Giggles, jokes and even a few nods of agreement were common in the first two-three minutes of the screening. Yet as their desperation, hopelessness, and lack of self-respect unraveled in stories of prostitution, rape and family disownment, the audience sees the slippery slope of these youth's lifestyle. One of the most poignant scenes for me, was as Krawczyk followed Alex snorting cocaine in aStarbucks bathroom; I recognized it right away as the familiar coffee shop in Union Square. As he exited the restroom, to a line of onlooking and judgemental New Yorkers he mutters, "this must seem pretty desperate." The fact that I've been to this Starbucks, or even felt the desires to just "party" shamelessly blurred the line between the homeless and average teenager. Their lives might be troubled, but their circumstances are common. Although I don't think I'll be in their positions anytime soon, Krawczyk's gradual and revealing exposition made me empathize with the three boys in an indescribable way.

After such a touching and revealing piece, CUFF hurled the audience into the realm of the farcical, with Queens College's Cyreene Laljie's "Hihopopatmus vs. Rhymenoceros." This brilliant five minute music video futured to rhyming white boys gallivanting through the City trying to serenade two young ladies. The music video culminates in the addition of a rapping granny. While I can't recall every hip spit, I found myself in hysterics during the clip.

Every student piece reinspired me as not only a student of media, but as an appreciator of media art. The juxtaposition of these two pieces further demonstrated the overwhelming power of the moving image--to make us re-evaluate our own lives, or just laugh.

Lester Burnham - Hopelessly Hallucinating

I recently sat back on a Tuesday night to enjoy one of the most critically acclaimed feature length films of the 1990s—American Beauty. The winner of five academy awards was directed by Sam Mendes, written by Alan Ball and photographically directed by Conrad L. Hall. Besides revealing the emptiness, contradictions and duplicity of American suburban life, the film pushes the definitions of right and wrong, beauty and ugliness by focusing on the midlife crisis of Lester Burnham. Hall and Mendes push many of these themes with careful technical choices of framing and defining this main character. Focusing on the depiction of Lester in and opening scene compared with his dream sequences demonstrate this thematic development.
Within the first ten minutes of the movie, the audience learns that Lester finds his life uninspiring and boring. He risks loosing his job, a fact that is revealed in a one-on-one scene between Lester and his boss Bradley. This back and forth dialogue occurs between two shots. One focuses on Bradley from a lower-angle, giving him power and stance, shooting from this “worm’s eye view” makes the character wield more power, which he does the fate of Lester’s career. Lester however is filmed from a higher angle; the camera looks down on the pitiful 45 year-old as he accuses his boss and defends his job. Furthermore, the Director of Photography chooses a medium close up to film Bradley, probably with a telephoto lens so that the businessman takes up a third of the shot. The audience sees Lester in a long shot; the door plant and two corners of the room leave the grappling employer in about half the amount of screen space as his boss. These camera techniques accentuates Lester’s hopeless, cynical and powerless attitude in the beginning of the narrative.
Lester finally finds a distraction for his mundane life—a sixteen-year-old classmate of his daughter. When he sees her at a dance competition, the audience knows within seconds that he is absolutely smitten by this beauty. Camera angles, slower shots and strong zoom-ins, tell the audience that they are leaving reality and entering the fantasy world of the main character. A strong zoom-in on Lester’s dumbfounded expression crisscrosses with the image of Angela Hayes’ dance routine. Specific lighting centers around her to usher in the complete switch to daydream. A series of close-ups and extreme close ups on Lester’s face and eyes mirror his complete engrossment by this teenaged hottie. The director’s choice to replay the image of her unzipping her cheerleading jersey from varied angles, culminates in the flow of rose petals from her chest—an important symbol and image. Not only does this dream sequence trigger a change in the character, it sets up a strong break from the normal cinematography and sets a strong distinction of dream and reality which the director returns to throughout the remainder of the film.
The technical reveal of Lester Burnham reveals many of American Beauty’s strong themes. The Director of Photography makes a lot of strong choices to show both Lester’s hopelessness and hallucinations.

The Break-Down of Moving Images

After visiting the Museum of Moving Image, observing the many exhibits and participating in both the digital flip book, and stop animation workshops, I have a better understanding of the physical breakdown and mechanics of film and video. As a media artist, understanding the history and foundation of moving image is priceless and pertinent in any type of work. The common principle that the exhibits of picture books, Victorian toys, stop-motion animation and film illustrate is that moving images are an illusion of individual images placed together and shown in rapid succession. While this may seem rudimentary, seeing the break down of this optical illusion in its many forms highlights the importance of making every frame count; it offers a new perspective on the moving image as visual art.
The “Stop-Motion Animation” workshop highlighted the importance of each shot. Because for this project we had to actually break down each frame, taking a digital picture of the drawing with the progression of which ever drawn prop or character. Even though everything in the frames was already drawn and styled, some problems were inevitable, if the project was done hastily. For example moving the paper puppet character too fast too soon, translated poorly in to the final project. In addition, if taken to quickly hands and other unnatural items could end up in the final moving image. For the highest-quality result, the student has to consider every frame an individual piece of visual art. Although filming a documentary or making a TV Pilot does not present the same exact obstacles, the same principles are at work. Every frame counts, and putting together every detail of the shot makes the difference. Each shot and angle deserves the thought, focus and concentration of an individual work of visual art.