Absence makes the heart grow fonder... the relationship between sound and silence

The past two Tuesdays I've sat quietly in the Union Theater first listening and then looking. On 11/18 I attended Aaron Ximm's experimental sound art performance and on 11/25 I attended a screening of "Three Songs: Recent Films by Nathaniel Dorsky". Through isolating the act of listening and viewing I feel I've furthered my understanding of the (more-complex-than-I-gave-it-credit-for) relationship between sound and image.

How lucky for me that these screenings were scheduled just one week apart, and how lucky still that the events were offered in the same location. Being in the same space for such unique* performances bettered my understanding of the way each performance worked individually, and the ways in which they contrasted/complimented each other. (*I'm not just saying "unique" like the way all undergrads say "unique" when they are at a loss for words. I'm saying unique and I'm meaning it, meaning it Merriam-Webster style- "radically distinctive and without equal"!)

Aaron Ximm's performance was a new- I've never sat in a completely dark room with a hundred strangers before (I say one-hundred, but the number is unknowable- it was dark!). We just sat in the dark and listened. I'd never publicly experienced listening in this way, and really, having tasted it once I may become an addict. I had never taken the time to REALLY think about the perpetual act of receiving sensory information through these fantastic and weirdly shaped things on my head.

Ximm's work (particularly his first piece) flooded my imagination with images of corners of the world I'd never seen, coupled with a surprising flood of personal recollections and memories. He was right in introducing the work as a prelude to dreaming. The work was at times mechanical, but often musical. Harkening back to his article, "Sound, Art, Music" the piece connected with what Ximm referred to as the "pre-conceptual emotional mind." (pg. 41)

Conversely, Dorsky's work required my sitting in a darkened room and focusing solely on images. It was so beautiful I wanted to pluck my eyes out of my head and just leave them there forever! (Does that make sense?) In any case...the work was hypnotic and left me hopelessly in love with light, color, composition- in a word- image. The work left me floating again. It was so beautiful to sit in a darkened room with tens of people, all of us quiet and mesmerized. Being quiet is awesome.

The combination of these experiences leaves me here- 3:00 in the morning, sleepless and hopelessly in love with film. I think that it's easy to get jaded in film school. I think I feel jaded in film school...a lot. Sometimes on Monday mornings when I drag myself into Carl's class and watch some crap like, "What The Water Said," or endure Chris Burden trying to breath water I think oh, my, god- this is art? But, it's experiences like this that keep me coming back for more.

I'm just sitting here thinking about how lucky I am that film making is my chosen profession. Although my aspirations air on the side of, forgive my language, "mainstream" film making the most important lesson I hope to take from these experiences is that sound and image stand on their own. They posses power, and...because it's almost 4AM and I'm getting a little punchy/cheesy I know that, "with great power comes great responsibility!" I must strive to create work that has incredibly solid audio AND solid imagery. Wow!