More films from Bedford Square collaborators

Chatterton is nearly complete, and I hope that soon I'll have another piece of it to share here. Currently I'm gathering material for a few motion graphics and lost-and-found sequences, and all the little nitpicky polishing jobs.

In the meantime, I wanted to share a few things that my collaborators on Chatterton have been working on. First up is Aljosa Zovko. Aljosa was one of my cinematographers on Chatterton, as well as the photographer for all the stills used in the film. He and Carlos are in a class together this semester on the application of film theory to production. I've seen work from both of them for this class and it's very exciting stuff.

Here's one of Aljosa's projects, "Searchlight." What I like most about it (after about a half dozen views) is that - like many of Aljosa's films and photographs - it's a poem on optics. As an abstract film, its main character is the lens - the lens that expresses itself through the wide variety of optical "flaws" that actually create beauty: lens flare, soft focus, the vignetting hinted at in the searchlight shots. This was actually an editing assignment, and the soft lyrical pulse of the cutting allows the impression of each optical anamoly drift into the next shot and the next. Enjoy!

Searchlight from Aljosa Zovko on Vimeo.

Traffic in Delaware

For some great music, visit Jay and Greg's radio station, The Spirit Farm. Scroll a few posts down and listen to their band, Traffic in Delaware, playing a very cute song.

There's your slice of Bedford Square for today - now I'm writing, can't stay long.

Nearing the end of The Fountainhead

"Peter, before you can do things for people, you must be the kind of man who can get things done. But to get things done, you must love the doing, not the secondary consequences. The work, not the people. Your own action, not any possible object of your charity. I'll be glad if people who need it find a better manner of living in a house I designed. But that's not the motive of my work. Nor my reason. Nor my reward."

Returning to A Room with a View

The last time I picked up A Room with a View, I didn't get a chance to finish it. Now I'm coming back because, once again, it seems to fit.

There is much that is immortal in this medieval lady. The dragons have gone, and so have the knights, but still she lingers in our midst. She reigned in many an early Victorian castle, and was queen of much early Victorian song. It is sweet to protect her in the intervals of business, sweet to pay her honour when she has cooked our dinner well. But alas! the creature grows degenerate. In her heart also there are springing up strange desires. She too is enamoured of heavy winds, and vast panoramas, and green expanses of the sea. She has marked the kingdom of this world, how full it is of wealth, and beauty, and war - a radiant crust, built around the central fires, spinning towards the receding heavens. Men, declaring that she inspires them to it, move joyfully over the surface, having the most delightful meetings with other men, happy, not because they are masculine, but because they are alive. Before the show breaks up she would like to drop the august title of the Eternal Woman, and go there as her transitory self.