A response to “Theory of the Film: Sound” by Bela Balazs

Theory of Film: Sound by Bela Balazs

         I fundamentally agree with the idea Balazs presents in this essay: that sound is a complex and powerful cinematic tool -- one which has not often been fully utilized in the near 100 years since it entered the filmmaker's toolkit. When film made the transition from silent to sound, it simultaneously gained potential depth and lost expressive power. Where before sound, filmmakers were required to use their ingenuity to convey the auditory qualities of a scene, this new technology allowed artists to simply convey the sound itself in their works.

          While something was absolutely lost in that transition, I believe that sound as a tool can add immeasurable amounts of complexity to a film. The limitations of silent film absolutely encouraged creative expression, but sound itself has provided even more opportunities for film to grow as a medium.

Balazs explores a few of the ways that sound can enrich cinema in unexpected, and under-utilized ways. Reading this piece made me excited for the possibilities of sound in my own projects, and in film as a whole. It made me feel as though the options laid out before me as a filmmaker are more limitless than I previously thought, like discovering a color never before seen on your pallet half way through a painting. 

Audio Logs (part I and II)

Part One: Into the woods

          Deep in the woods on the back end of campus I sit. A bed of pine straw below me, a darkening sky above.

          I close my eyes.

          In the distance, cars and motorcycles roar. The branches of the trees behind my creak and snap. A high pitched chirp and a flutter of wings. The evening’s crickets are just warming up. They seem to be high in the trees. Far to my left, an engine grumbles. Even here the sounds of traffic break through the trees.

          A quiet symphony of chirps in the tree line above me.

Another cricket. A soloist. He plays as well.

Another singular sound joins him on my right.

Behind me. A click, like a drop of rain on the pine straw. But it is not raining. The forest is shifting.

Another angry cry from south college.

Another bug joins in on the evening’s concert. This one sounds like a zipper. He only sounds once.

          The ambient noises from the road and the wind blend together to give the atmosphere a pleasant hum. They defeat the fundamental silence.

          Now a plane. An engine reverberates over my head. Moving from behind me to above me to in front of me. Slowly. Or quickly.

          The sounds of the traffic seem to be quieting over all. The crickets seem to be getting louder.

The sun is threatening to sink below the horizon, it seems.

Part Two: The side of the road

          Sitting now, precipitously close to the edge of the road.

          Eyes close again.

          Cars pass – slowly or quickly. Some engines hum, some roar.

          One passes and seems to slow as it passes. Like a large, angry bee. Somewhere between a hum and a buzz. Its tires creak on the pavement as they turn.

          A motorcycle rips past me, I think.

          Some of the cars have music playing that I can subtle hear the thumping rhythm of. Can’t make out the song.

          Between vehicles I hear the constant hum of what seems to be air conditioning units, or heaters, or something.

          Crickets chant angrily from the trees far to my right. Almost in response to them a wave of crickets circles in front of me and to my left. Where are they even hiding?

Behind me in a parking lot a car’s tires grumble as the push loose pieces of asphalt (or gravel?) around. They’re probably parking. I guess that’s what you do in a parking lot.

Brakes squeak. Or whine. Unintelligible conversations of people walking on the sidewalk.

They must think I’m strange.

I mean, I am ostensibly eaves dropping.

A siren. A door closing. A girlish voice. A car door opens and closes. Another car passes me. Louder as it goes. But then quieter.

A more manly voice now. The way it sounds annoys me.

A Response to Maya Deren's "Amateur vs. Professional"

Maya Deren -- Amateur vs. Professional

To Maya Deren, experimental film is freedom. Where some may view not having the tools or resources of a studio as holding them back she calls them to run forward using what they, the amateur, have. This conceptualization of experimental film is more powerful than a definition centered around opposition.

If an amateur filmmaker sees her work as being in opposition to the system, she is held back by the need to "respond" to the mainstream. If an amateur filmmaker sees her work as free from rather than against convention than there is nothing to hold her back; her film can be anything, everything and nothing.

Freedom is the power of experimental film. freedom from convention, from sense, from communication, from an audience, even freedom from the act of creation itself.

This freedom is what marks experimental film.

A Response to Fred Camper's "What is Experimental Film?"

Fred Camper -- What is Experimental Film?

In this passage Fred Camper attempts to define "experimental film" -- something that by definition evades definition. As such, all of his "qualities" of "most" experimental film a subject to be rebuked within minutes, if they have not been already. 

His first point is that most experimental films are created by one person, or sometimes a small group. Avant-garde films are often defined by their opposition to the norm -- which is large groups of crew run by studios in Hollywood -- so it would make sense that he would make that claim (the second "quality" of experimental film). 

However, in the global age where we find ourselves now many films are being created that a "crowd-sourced" or massively created through the new tools of the internet. Though point number one may have been true once, experimental film is shucking, or has already shucked that definition. 

The problem with defining experimental film in opposition to the "mainstream" is that both the mainstream and, in turn, the opposition are in flux. Opposition includes all except what it opposes, and the one thing it opposes is itself constantly shifting. 

If the artistic life of film as a medium is a river then the mainstream, the convention is but a stick floating down the river. Experimental film (the rest) is the current on which it floats.

A Photo

This is a photo.

An Exploration of Principles

My artist manifesto

What is an artist? My name is Carson Roach-Howell, and I am an artist. Am I an artist? I am an artist because I create. Why do I create? I ask questions about everything. Why do I exist? Many of my questions do not have answers. How I can understand that which I cannot understand? Creation transcends reason. What do I know?

I exist.
I am a person. 
I am a person born on June 13th, 1995 in a hospital in Raleigh, North Carolina.
I am a person who came to UNCW to study film, because I was attracted to the questions filmmakers always seemed to chase.
I am a person who constantly struggles. 
I am a person who tries to succeed. 

What is an artist? An artist does not exist. Am I an artist? I do not exist. Why do I create? Because I can.