40. Film: Noise of the Medium

"One day in 1948 while riding a crowded subway I came up with the idea of mixing random noise with composed music. More precisely, it was then that I became aware that composing is giving meaning to that stream of sounds that penetrates the world we live in." [Toru Takemitsu, Confronting Silence, p 79]

Outer Space [1999] dir. Peter Tscherkassky

Mainstream film production values demand a kind of maximum closeness. Every image and sound sparkles with reassuring clarity and sharpness. In post-production dialogue editors surgically remove undesirable elements from the production sound. Clicks, pops, lip-smacks, microphone bumps, passing planes, belly growls, all such extraneous sounds are suitably air-brushed out to create an intelligible, clean dialogue track. Careful balancing of levels and use of background fill tracks help to stitch together picture cuts, smoothly unifying the action in time and space. At every such stage throughout the post-production sound process, clarity and consistency is sought towards the creation of a coherent, unified soundtrack, a highly organised composition of sounds serving a narrative arc.

Filmmaker Peter Tscherkassky presents an altogether different kind of audiovisual experience. A central figure in the Austrian avant-grade, Tscherkassky has been making films since the early 1980s. Often using found 35mm footage as his source material, he constructs densely layered textures through extensive editing, celluloid maltreatment and film processing from his dark studio in the remote Austrian countryside. Out of these long seasons of labour emerge films of incredible beauty; twisting, repeating and fragmenting found narratives into new and unusual compositions. From the outset he writes:

“I wanted to unravel and dissolve the medium, “destroy” is not the right expression, but, yes, some type of “breaking”, and in breaking, allowing something else to become visible”.

These are dynamic film soundtracks of volcanic surfaces; the delicious crackle and hiss of celluloid, like the turntable escapades of Christian Marclay or Otomo Yoshihide. What we hear are the raw optical distortions of the medium itself, breaking up and contorting into new sonic shapes. From within these granular nettles emerge fragments of original soundtrack - grainy voices and snatches of music, footsteps, sounds of doors, broken glass and gunshots. These ghostly sounds of the past surface and resurface through a sea of optical clicks and pops, sometimes drifting into the foreground or repeating in time with the images. Elsewhere they erupt in violent bursts, building into chaotic layers of percussive noise.

Dresden Dynamo [1971] dir. Lis Rhodes

Tscherkassky’s work can be situated within a whole history of avant garde and experimental filmmaking practices that stretch back to the early 1900s. Many filmmakers exploring the moving image technology of the time arrived at film with a background in fine arts, and so perhaps naturally graviated to exploring the purely visual potential of the medium. However, a number of individuals turned their attention towards investigating the synesthetic dimension of the image and soundtrack of celluloid. Many of these early experiments were described as a kind of “visual music”. What follows is a very brief historical overview of some of the major innovators in the field of film and optical sound.

Early innovations in optical sound began extensively in Russia and Europe. Russian composer and theorist Arseny Avraamov was a major pioneer in sound-on-film techniques, experimenting in the early 1930s with hand-drawn soundtracks directly on to film. In 1930 Evgeny Sholpo developed the Variophone, an optical synthesizer that used sound waves cut onto rotating disks. The resulting sounds were photographed on to 35mm film stock and reproduced via a projector and loudspeaker system.

Other notable works to emerge during this time are Rudolf Pfenniger’s five-part documentary film series Tönende Handschrift (Sounding Handwriting) and Oskar Fishchinger’s Ornament Sound, both from 1932. At the National Board of Canada in the mid-1940s, Evelyn Lambart and Norman McLaren began experimenting with “animated sound”, photographically shooting prepared graphic cards, frame-by-frame, on to the optical soundtrack area of a 35mm film strip.

In 1959 ex-BBC Radiophonic composer Daphne Oram began developing her Oramics optical sound instrument. For this she employed a drawn sound technique that was performed directly onto 35mm film. As the film strip passesd through the machines various photo-electric cells, different geometric shapes and patterns produced different sounds.

1966 and The London Film-makers' Co-op is established, where artists such as Lis Rhodes and Guy Sherwin produced filmworks that explored the interplay between sound and light. Super16 film technology was commonly used, allowing artists to translate an image into sound as the picture track passed through the exciter lamp of the projector’s optical sound head. Many of Guy Sherwin’s early structuralist films explore this synesthetic relationship.

Film Selection:

Outer Space [1999] dir. Peter Tscherkassky
Perfect Film [1986] dir. Ken Jacobs
Soundtrack [1977] dir. Guy Sherwin
Dresden Dynamo [1971] dir. Lis Rhodes
Schlechter [1958] dir. Peter Kubelka
Tönende Handschrift [1932] dir. Rudolf Pfenniger
Ornament Sound [1932] dir. Oskar Fishchinger

38. Film: The Experimental Soundtrack

One of the ways in which the film work of avant garde and moving image artists differs from narrative-based filmmaking is how sound and music is used. In rejecting concerns of story or character development, filmmakers operating in this interdisciplinary region between cinema (film), performance (expanded cinema) and gallery exhibition (video installation) free themselves to examine the medium inside and outside the confines of linear time. *

The Movement of People Working [2003] dir. Phil Niblock (2 stills from DVD version)

An elastic approach to the temporal arrangement of moving images and sounds opens up opportunities for interesting and unusual audiovisual juxtapositions. The use of contrapuntal sound in this way can have the effect of registering a floating, dream-like atmosphere that departs from the grounded, synchronous interaction of image and sound. Located within such a dreamscape lies the mind of the filmmaker who, in the expressive stream of consciousness, is capable of achieving a highly personal sensibility to filmmaking. In this space images and sounds drift in and out of focus like fading memories, fragments of a passing life. Here the expressive diarist work of Jonas Mekas comes to mind. 

With the freeing up of time and the relinquishing of synchronous image-sound relationships, the conventional distinctions between diegetic/non-diegetic, music/sound, signal/noise begin to unravel and blur. Operating in this sonic territory - one that historically covers video art, sound art and experimental music - we locate moving image artists and filmmakers, many of whom arrive at film with a background in fine art or contemporary and experimental music. In some cases respective film and music activities co-exist (e.g. Phil Niblock), while for others, an interest in sound and music is a starting point in a trajectory that moves them further towards moving image and video installation (e.g. Bill Viola). 

The Birds [1963] dir. Alfred Hitchcock • The Red Desert [1964] dir. Michelangelo Antonioni

The electronic film score belongs to any discussion concerning alternative and experimental approaches to working with film sound and music. Amongst some of the most famous examples of commercial films that deploy a purely electronic palette of sounds is Alfred Hitchcock’s horror classic The Birds from 1963. Utilising the Mixtur-Trautonium electronic synthesizer, composers Oskar Sala and Remi Gassmann were commissioned to produce the eery, atonal textures that would score the birds fluttering and cawing. In her book The Silent Scream: Alfred Hitchcock's Sound Track Elisabeth Weis writes about the relationship between the film’s atmosphere of fear and the uncanny quality of the electronic sounds:

"The Birds deals abstractly with fear; thus it is especially dependent on sound because of the non-specific quality of sound effects."

We find the “non-specific quality” of electronic noises and tones put to novel use in other films of the time, such as Forbidden Planet (1956), considered the first completely electronic film score, Michelangelo Antonioni’s The Red Desert (1964) and Andrei Tarkovsky’s Solaris (1972).

In Jack Clayton’s gothic psychological drama The Innocents (1961), electronic feedback and delay effects are put to great effect in a memorably tense and atmospheric sequence midway into the film. Described as the sound of the governess’ encroaching madness, "…what really disturbs us, at the very moments when the film is at its most disturbing” writes Robert Barry,

“are the eerie electronic noises that creep around the edges of Auric’s lush impressionistic score. These noises, though unmentioned in the film’s credits, were created by Daphne Oram.”

Oram (1925-2003) was a pioneering British electronic composer, inventor of the Oramics Machine and co‑founder of the highly influential BBC Radiophonic Workshop.

Often where experimental and electronic music interacts with film we might find the use of continuous sustained sounds. Whether such soundtracks are considered music, sound or noise is prone to subjective standards and an unimportant here. Instead, what remains significant in this context is the non-diegetic, sound or music, dimension of what's being heard and how this correspondingly relates to what is being seen.

How does the image and soundtrack synthesise in film to express something - a meaning or a sensorial experience - for the spectator? Consider the use of sustained, layered drones in Phil Niblock's video work The Movement of People Working (2003). This ia an extended 16mm piece in which the camera records the repetitive manual work of labourers working in fields. Faces cropped, location sound mute, silent moving limbs set to the sounds of shimmering microtonal drones. (Or perhaps the other way round). What is this experience? +

Film Selection:

Tectonic Plate [2016] dir. Mika Taanila
The Movement of People Working
[2003] dir. Phil Niblock
In Absentia [2000] dir. Quay Brothers
The Black Glove [1996] dir. Maria Beatty
Solaris [1972] dir. Andrei Tarkovsky
Entrance to Exit [1965] dir. George Brecht
The Red Desert [1964] dir. Michelangelo Antonioni
The Birds [1963] dir. Alfred Hitchcock
Ai [1962] dir. Takahiko Iimura
Speak {1962} dir. John Latham

Notes:

* Hitting the 'non-linear button' in film school was often an indication that it was time to depart from script and begin experimenting temporally in an attempt to uncover new ideas in the material.

+ Additional Thoughts: In some sense continuous sound has the uncanny effect of delineating the soundtrack from the image, setting up independent streams of sensory information; a return to a more primitive state in which film sound and image are decoupled from one another. In such instances, the absence of any significant points of audiovisual synchronisation can perceptually suggest a flattening of a sequence of moving images. The image lacks a kind of acoustic depth. Consequently, it seemingly lacks a three-dimensional presence (an inability to conform to realism) in the listening space of the cinema. Perhaps the sum effect of this is to establish a soundtrack that acts as a spatio-temporal frame through which the changing images are performed.