revision Jonathan Rattner
Jonathan Rattner An artist's statement
My artwork is about identity construction and meaning-making.€ I’m interested in how we organize and make sense of our lives through stories, objects, and places. I think a lot
about how definitions of our surroundings and lives can give us structure, but they can also create emotional and intellectual barriers. Most of my work comes out of the desire to challenge accepted constructions of visual meaning-making and to create a space for critical, active reflection.
traditional non-linear structure. Cinematic essays contain qualities of wandering and weaving, having a sense of lightness, and being indirect, all of which enable access to a deeper layer of truth. In production of these films, I worked very much like a photojournalist. I traveled to locations, wandered, observed, and gathered material without a plan beforehand. While I recorded sounds or images, I tried to take in all of the sensory information around me; feel my body, listen to sounds, and look for visual patterns and rhythms in the environment. I was interested in stripping the original context and meaning from the situation, and experiencing elements I may have ignored without my camera. In post-production, my approach was very much akin to a collage artist, juxtaposing images and sounds from different places, and waiting for a concept or story to arise. My editing decisions were not preplanned, and most of the works took months to complete. In these ways, the process of production and post-production became very much like ritualistic, meditative acts.
A still from End, End, End
End, End, End is part of a series of short films in which the process - the action of constructing - is evident in the final product. I consider these works cinematic essays: pieces that mix nonfiction and fiction techniques, express everyday experiences that elude clear-cut definitions, and avoid
In End, End, End, I combined found recordings of a man marking the beginning and end of analog audio tapes with a collage of images of the natural world (cows, ocean, slugs, road in front of a moving automobile), and excerpts from journal entries I wrote while I was editing. The work weaves in and out of the past and present, mimicking the fragmentary nature of thoughts and emotions, stopping along the way to reflect on death, love, and the appropriate way to make a cup of coffee. Conceptually, I was striving to make something meaningful out of a jumble of images, words, and sounds that are - on their own - (arguably) meaningless. As in the other pieces in this series, my goal was to create an elastic aesthetic experience, providing an opportunity to feel, see, hear, and think in new ways.
Jonathan Rattner
A still from End, End, End
An interview with
Jonathan Rattner End, End, End is a stunning reflection on the nature of memory and perception: through an elegant visual approach you explore the blurry boundaries between past and present, imagination and emotion. Jonathan, how did you come up with the idea for this video? The desire to use art as a way to get access to a reflective and emotional space is nothing new – it’s a rabbit that a lot of artists have tried to catch (some successfully) for a long time. In “End, End, End,” I was interested in how to enter this space in the most minimalistic and subtle way, which is not the easiest thing to do in film/video. Could I interact with emotions
and ideas without being direct? Could I express a poignant thought with few images or sounds? Could I convey humor, absurdity, fear, and sadness concurrently without being overwrought? When I found the audio recording of a man repeating the word “end” over and over to mark the conclusion of his analog tape, it seemed like an ideal way to help answer these questions. The word “end” is a homonym, so the repetition of the word allows listeners to experience it as either “end” or “and.” These words have opposing meanings (conclusion and continuation), so if used together, they act as a cyclical unit: “end,” “and,” “end.” I was excited
A still from End, End, End
how these words together have a sonic Zen spirit, mirroring how I philosophically understand (or strive to understand) most things. At the same time, “end” and “and” suggest a rich assortment of analogies and metaphors. The simple repetition of these words allowed me to talk about the beginning and end of things in a poetic way. These words allowed me move around in both the past and present, interacting with the great seriousness and silliness of the beginning, the continuation and finality of things. What is the role of words in your filmmaking? I’ve been using words in my work more and more. Specifically, I’ve been incorporating my own journal entries. I’m interested in having the words act as another layer, in addition to the images and sound design. Ideally, each of these layers act as counterpoints, weaving in and out of one another - independent and interdependent. This type of filmmaking has been happening for a long time, but it is in opposition to most commercial nonfiction and
fiction films, in which sounds simply enhance what is expressed visually, or vice versa. Incorporating text has been difficult. I want all the elements in my works to have meaning, to have a place. I want the sounds, text, and images to constantly have a conversation with each other, but words can easily dominate. Words on a screen are concrete, don’t move in time, and therefore can narratively push the visuals and sound design into the background. I strive to balance every aspect of my work, and with text you risk too much weight in one area. This is a problem that a lot of films have with music (it does too much work), and it’s arguably why a lot of filmmakers don’t include text in their work. I think text and words work well in “End, End, End” because I’m dealing with a homonym, which creates an uncertain elasticity. This balancing act with each filmic element is exciting to me, so I hope to continue using text and words in different ways in the future. Your fragmented style, as well as the use of a destabilizing text before each shot reminds us of Godard's experimental films.
A still from End, End, End
Your filmmaking is rich of references; can you tell us your biggest influences and how they have affected your cinema? I grew up in a house where art was very important. Going to museums and galleries was a weekly routine. Over the years, I accumulated influences from artist who work in a lot of different mediums. I love the theater and concepts of Bertolt Brecht, Jerzy Grotowski, Samuel Beckett, and Augusto Boal; the art of Yoko Ono, Dick Higgins, Joseph Beuys, Hans Richter, Jean Arp, Marcel Duchamp, and Nam June Paik; the music of John Coltrane, Charles Mingus, Sun Ra, Yusef Lateef, and Pharaoh Sanders; and the writings on art and cinema by Alexandre Astruc, Italio Calvino, Jean Rouch, Sergei Eisenstein, Dziga Vertov, Andre Bazin, John Cage, Guy Debord, and Jill Godmilow.As a filmmaker, my influences are also all over the map. I love the work of Jean-Luc Godard but also Agnes Varda, Stan Brakhage, Jonas Mekas, Werner Herzog, Seijun Suzuki, Wong Kar Wai, Frederick Wiseman, Chris Marker, James Benning, Leighton Pierce, Hollis Frampton, Marlon Riggs, Deborah Stratman, Naomi Uman,
Ross McEllwee, Kevin J. Everson, and Apichitpong Weershal. And the list goes on. All these filmmakers, artists, and theorists are all quite different, but they all suggest what I care about as a film artist. In their own way, each of these producers treat/treated their mediums as living things, or as Eisenstein would say, organisms, where the boundaries and rules of art are not only to be understood, but also questioned, pushed, tested, challenged, jumped over, broken, and - at times - destroyed. As for filmmaking, most of these film makers in this list relate to how I make my art in one way or another – most work alone or in small crews, their work is reflective and reflexive, and most importantly, in my opinion, they ask their audiences to be active participants in the film experience. End, End, End is divided into chapters. Why have you chosen this rigorous structure? I generally go into the post-production phase without a detailed plan of what I’m going to do.
A still from End, End, End
I may have a general concept, but beyond that, I want editing to be a meditative, stream of consciousness, automatic kind of experience. Before I began this work, I knew that I wanted to interact with the words “end” and “and,” and move quickly between the opposing ideas that these words suggest. I also wanted weave in and out of the past and present. Dividing the work into chapters gave order to my editing practice, which allowed for a smooth transition into these different narrative places. I’ve heard the argument that experimental film can be exclusive, that filmmakers who work in this style can come across as condescending. I don’t agree with that assessment; I think artists experimenting with their mediums are the ones who most earnestly care about their audience, and care about the form. However, I do understand how people can feel guarded when they see mediums treated differently. So in addition to helping me with structure, my hope for these chapters was to communicate, to whoever is watching the work, to trust me. If viewers recognize an organizational system, then they will be more willing to join me on the visual and sonic ride - no matter how insane or
absurd - and will more ideally interact with the work after it’s concluded. You have used found recordings in End, End, End: a recurrent characteristic of many of your artworks is experience as starting point of artistic production: in your opinion, is experience an absolutely necessary part of creative process? For me, experience is absolutely a necessary part of the process. I believe that cinema can be used to gain access to new ways of experiencing and comprehending the world. The filmmaker Jean Rouch spoke about the cineeye and the cine-trance. He’s not the first to talk about cinema in this way, but his theoretical descriptions are some of my favorites. He believed that turning on a camera changes reality, if only slightly, and that if it’s used thoughtfully, a camera lets you see and hear things that you don’t normally pay attention to, which can provoke new ways of thinking. For me, this happens in both the production and post-production processes. This is why, for example, I shoot long durational shots and edit more like a collage artist.
I may begin a project with concepts and goals, but something seems missing if I don’t allow the experience of making the work help shape the story, content, and final cut of the video or film.
thoughts
In these last years we have seen that the frontier between Video Art and Cinema is growing more and more vague: End, End, End seems to confirm this trend no doubt. Do you think that this "frontier" will exist longer? I hope not. I believe artists should understand the history and traditions that they come from, but I also believe that we should avoid letting traditions block growth and change. The definitions and beliefs we use to delineate genre boundaries can be damaging. Video art and cinema have two distinct traditions, but visual media (movies, TV, time based art) mean something quite different now than they did in 1887 when Marey first filmed birds, and in 1965 when Paik filmed the Pope. There will always be differences between the work that reacts and interacts with culture and work that is made for commercial purposes, but to be constrained by definitions and boundaries beyond that, you risk limiting creative expression. All artists working with lenses should know their genres, but they should hopefully also know that those genres are and have always been bendable. Where I find this division (or breakdown of division) between video art and cinema most apparent relates to where artists show their work. In the past, experimental filmmakers screened their work in festivals. However, in the U.S., fewer festivals are offering experimental/new media/avant-garde blocks. The venues that most willingly show “art films” tend to be galleries, and increasingly, the galleries screening current practices in video and film are nonprofit, community-based galleries. Screening a work in a gallery, rather than in a theater, does change the overall presentation and viewing experience. But whether my work is considered video art or cinema doesn’t concern me. I think these traditions have been merging for a long time and continue to do so, so it’s an exciting creative place to be. Thanks for sharing your time and with us.
A still from End, End, End
What's next for Jonathan Rattner? Are there any new projects on the horizon? All of my work has to with how we define and make sense of our lives, in relation to place, memory, our relationships, and how these constructions can be both limiting and can give
us strength.€ Over the years, I’ve moved back and forth between making work about and with other people (social practice) and making work that is about myself (diaristic). I have always kept these practices separate, but I’d like to bring these two sides of my work together. In my next
project, I am planning to do a series of short films about a specific place, and how individuals of all different ages and backgrounds, including myself, experience that place.