Part 11 Not all memories are as sacred as Tarkovsky’s. If time can be expressed in photos taken by the public at drunken parties, then it can certainly present in work by other artists, even those driven by less transcendental aims than Tarkovsky. Considering this, the first body of work that comes to mind is that of the American photographer William Eggleston. The Tennessee photographer … Continue reading Presence, or Polaroid Ghosts (Part 12)
Part 10 Over time, we become strangers to ourselves in Polaroids. We take them, not to create memories, but to help retain them. Sometimes this is unnecessary. At other times, it is essential if we want to remember moments in our lives. This is an idea realised perfectly in Christopher Nolan’s debut feature, Memento (2000). It is a film that essentially sits on the cusp … Continue reading Presence, or Polaroid Ghosts (Part 11)
“In the morning they leave. The animals, birds, and insects that watched in horror through the long night creep out from their hiding places. And what do they see? Old spark plugs and old filters strewn around… Rags, burnt-out bulbs, and a monkey wrench left behind… And of course, the usual mess—apple cores, sweet wrappers, charred remains of the campfire, cans, bottles, somebody’s handkerchief, somebody’s … Continue reading They Lay With Debris – Wreckage in Tarkovsky’s Stalker (1979)
In last month’s issue of Sight & Sound (November, 2015) Nick James details his relationship with the cinema of Andrei Tarkovsky in line with the season of films he’s curated for the BFI. Though the article is chiefly surrounding Tarkovsky’s (vast) legacy, one aspect in particular caught my attention whilst reading. He refers to a scene from Tarkovsky’s 1975 film, Mirror, which partly accounted for … Continue reading The Breeze In The Grass – Elemental Realisation in Tarkovsky’s Mirror (1975).
Celluloid Wicker Man 