Avant-Garde Film

Forms, Themes, and Passions

Michael O'Pray

• Publisher: WallFlower Press
• Year: 2003
• ISBN:
  9780231850001
• Topic: Médias et arts de la scène
• Subtopic: Film et vidéo

Avant-Garde Film: Forms, Themes and Passions examines the variety of concerns and practices that have comprised the long history of avant-garde film at a level appropriate for undergraduate study. It covers the developments of experimental film-making since the modernist explosion in the 1920s in Europe through to the Soviet film experiments, the American Underground cinema and the French New Wave, structuralism and contemporary gallery work of the young British artists. Through in-depth case-studies, the book introduces students not only to the history of the avant-garde but also to varied analytical approaches to the films themselves - ranging from abstraction (Richter, Ruttmann) to surreal visions (Bunuel, Wyn Evans), underground subversion (Jack Smith, Warhol) to experimental narrative (Deren and Antonioni).

1      THE AVANT-GARDE FILM: DEFINITIONS

There has been little agreement among historians or artists as to what is meant by the term ‘avant-garde’ in relation to film. Ian Christie justly remarks that it is ‘an essentially contested concept, always open to dispute or redefinition’ (1998: 453). Like others, I have often avoided the problem of definition by pointing with a Wittgensteinian flourish to the tradition commonly understood by most writers on the subject (O’Pray 1996). This means fudged edges and in some cases exclusions and inclusions (often excluded are Sergei Eisenstein, Jean-Luc Godard, Surrealism, to name a few controversial cases). Of course, it is at these contested fringes that the issue of what the term means is forced upon us, serving at least to remind us that films are rarely made to comply to rigid categories or even social, political or cultural agendas.

A further question is: Why does the term ‘avant-garde’ survive as a viable term in relation to film and not to other visual arts? There are many answers to this. The most potent may be the simple historical fact that this kind of film-making remains, to this day, marginal to the commercial cinema and art world alike. Unlike painting, where the avant-garde rapidly became the mainstream and where novelty and new forms now seem a necessary part of its institutional framework, cinema remains a popular commercial art with a mass audience. As Gilberto Perez remarks, ‘a taste for the movies is still relatively unburdened either by the flattery of belonging to an aristocracy of taste or by the intimidation of not belonging’ (1998: 28).

Within this perspective the film-makers who make up the avant-garde are producing films which are fundamentally different to their mainstream counterparts – no-budget, intensely personal and using quite different distribution and exhibition circuits. Murray Smith sums it up well:

The avant-garde is an ‘artisanal’ or ‘personal’ mode. Avant-garde films tend to be made by individuals or very small groups of collaborators, financed either by the film-makers alone or in combination with private patronage and grants from arts institutions. Such films are usually distributed through film co-operatives, and exhibited by film societies, museums, and universities. (1998: 395)

Importantly, they also form a quite separate tradition of their own, one which this book addresses.

The notion of the ‘avant-garde’ also raises the controversial question of value. A classic account was that of the art critic Clement Greenberg (1992) who divided the art world into the avant-garde and the kitsch, which included Hollywood films, and where aesthetic value attached to the former. The film avant-garde is renowned for its opposition to mainstream cinema, whose artistic value it has denied and has assigned to the kitsch – the sentimental, melodramatic and banal. This critique is often couched in terms of the mainstream film-maker’s meagre artistic control and consequent subservience to the conventions and banalities of ideology demanded by a mass audience. But historically this antagonism is not so clear cut. Not all avant-garde film-makers have eschewed the commercial field. On the contrary, they have often relied on it for financial reasons and even for the creative opportunities it offered. For example, the early abstract animator Oskar Fischinger made advertising films in the 1920s and was involved, albeit briefly, in Disney’s kitsch masterpiece Fantasia (1941).

But avant-garde film-makers like Jack Smith and Jeff Keen have celebrated aspects of the mainstream Hollywood cinema, especially its tackier ‘kitsch’ end. Avant-garde film-makers have also embraced – or at least been sympathetic to – what is called ‘art cinema’, which has combined artistic ambition with commercialism. The arch-avant-garde American 01 film-maker Stan Brakhage has written sympathetically about Carl Theodor Dreyer, D. W. Griffiths and F. W. Murnau, and the famous Anthology Archive set up by avant-gardists included the same film-makers and more in its canon (Brakhage 1977; Sitney 1975). It is an awkward fact that all of these types of cinema – mainstream, art cinema and the avant-garde – lay claim to art. But these types of cinema are primarily categories of practice and not necessarily divided by different categories of what accounts for art.

I would like to make a very general distinction between film-makers who have borrowed an avant-garde attitude, subject-matter or desire from the more established visual (at times literary) avant-gardes of painting and sculpture, and those who have pitched their tents within the film tradition itself. The former (e.g. Hans Richter, Walter Ruttman, Malcolm Le Grice) quite obviously have a clarity of ambition and of visual look not shared by the latter (e.g. Maya Deren, Kenneth Anger). It also suggests quite different moments of avant-gardism – for Richter et al. the notion of the avant-garde is one shared with well-established art forms like painting, music and poetry. For Anger and others it is one earned against the steady momentous flow of mainstream cinema. This is simply to acknowledge the fact that cinema by and large escaped modernism (but not modernity) in the twentieth century and yet, in the name of entertainment, produced artists – Alfred Hitchcock, John Ford, Fritz Lang and Jean Renoir, to name but a few.

If we do acknowledge an avant-garde then we need to consider what it is the avant-garde of. In art history the term ‘avant-garde’ was originally used to describe French painting of the early decades of the nineteenth century (Nochlin 1967). It represented an aesthetically and politically motivated attack on traditional art and its values. Borrowed from socialist politics in the same period, ‘avant-garde’ is a military term denoting an advanced group forging an assault on the enemy ahead of the main army. With film in mind, we may ask who represents the main army and who the enemy? The main army could be the ‘true’ idea of cinema and film itself and the enemy, the dominant traditional cinema. Or the main army could be mainstream cinema, and the avant-garde its advanced group foraging for new techniques, forms of expression and subject-matter.

However, the term ‘avant-garde’ is commonly encountered in the context of twentieth-century modernism. It describes modernism’s founding moments in art movements like futurism, dada and cubism. This has led to the two terms – avant-garde and modernism – being treated as synonymous. But, as Paul Willemen argues, the avant-garde implies a set of historical relations . . . in contrast, the notion of modernism reduces artistic practice to a set of formal procedures (1994: 143).

For Willemen, modernism is more like a period style, such as cubism or impressionism, while an avant-garde denotes a historical moment of specific activities and practices not necessarily associated with any particular artistic style or strategy. Raymond Williams accepts the difficulty of easily distinguishing modernism from the avant-garde, but suggests:

Modernism has proposed a new kind of art for a new kind of social and perceptual world. The avant-garde, aggressive from the beginning, saw itself as a breakthrough to the future: its members were … the militants of a creativity which would revive and liberate humanity. (1989: 51)

While modernism dominates the twentieth-century art world, there are a finite number of avant-gardes and not all of them are necessarily espousing the cause of modernism – surrealism is a case in point.

Andreas Huyssen claims that the avant-garde is primarily a historical term denoting a particular short-lived period whose radicalism cannot be repeated thanks to the repressive tolerance of ‘Western mass mediated culture in all its manifestations from Hollywood film, television, advertising, industrial design, and architecture to the aesthetization of technology and commodity aesthetics’ (1986: 15). This introduces the distinction between the notion of the ‘avant-garde’ used as referring to a particular historical moment and one denoting a kind of activity or practice. For Huyssen, any potential genuine avant-garde, as opposed to the neo-avant-gardes encountered in contemporary art, would more likely occur in non-art practices outside the ‘culture industry’. But Huyssen does not address the unique conditions of so called ‘avant-garde’ film, in fact he does not refer to it at all, even managing to discuss Andy Warhol without mentioning his film work.

Historians and critics of the film avant-garde have themselves been extremely wary of the term. Of the classic accounts of such film-making, only P. Adams Sitney (1979) has embraced the notion, even if identifying it with what he calls ‘visionary film’. Scott MacDonald has also opted for the term ‘avant-garde’ arguing that it has the ‘widest currency’ and ‘is generally understood to refer to an ongoing history that has been articulated in different ways in different places’ (1993: 16). For Laura Mulvey (1996), the film avant-garde is to be understood at times as being the ‘negation’ of dominant cinema. David Curtis, A.L. Rees and others settled for ‘experimental’ (Curtis 1971; Rees 1999), a term that was also popular in Britain in the 1940s (see Manvell 1949). Yet the problem with identifying avant-garde as experimental film is that experiment proliferated as we might expect under the conditions of the new medium, for example The Big Swallow (Williamson’s Kinematograph Co. , c.1901). Experiment is marked in commercial mainstream film-making too. In fact, Eisenstein admitted to the innovations of Griffiths for his own film ideas. Equally, experiment tends to denote changes in technique, in methodology; it does not herald an avant-gardism but simply provides traditional cinema with more variety of expression. The experimental tag also suggests tentativeness and quasi-scientific rationalist motivation. It fails to capture, and in fact seems to exclude, the passions and spontaneity involved in many of the films it purports to cover. Similarly, experiment does not imply radical social or political ideas often associated with the avant-gardes. In fact, experimental techniques are to be found in the conservative film tradition used for equally conservative ends.

Furthermore, Sheldon Renan and Parker Tyler both used the term ‘underground’ (Renan 1967; Tyler 1974); David E. James, in his political contextualisation of the postwar American film avant-garde settled for the distinction between a political and an aesthetic film avant-garde (James 1989); while Malcolm Le Grice opted for ‘formal’ and Peter Gidal has used ‘structural-materialist’ and latterly ‘materialist’ (Le Grice 1976; Gidal 1977, 1989). For Maya Deren, Jonas Mekas and others, the expression ‘poetic film’ was used to distinguish a tradition stretching back to the 1920s (see Wolf 1997). Each of these terms denotes a nuance, a certain difference of approach, and at times acts as a means of excluding (or including) particular films. For example, ‘underground film’ is usually identified with the influential American ‘beat generation’ of the 1950s. But it was originally used, paradoxically, by the film critic Manny Farber (1971) to describe contemporary Hollywood ‘B’ movies.

‘Underground’ has also been associated with a social, sexual and cultural sub-culture operating ‘beneath’ the traditional mainstream. Its metaphorical import is quite different to that of ‘avant-garde’. It does not suggest attack but evasion. Unlike the inter-war European avant-garde it never seriously countenanced revolution and seemed happy to carve out its own individualist bohemian niche in American culture, even when it meant a conflictual relationship with it. It had no Marxist reference points, but rather a Romanticist exploration of sexuality, drugs and consciousness-raising. It was the politicisation of European film-makers in the early 1970s which re-introduced the notion of avant-garde displacing the commonplace ‘underground’.¹

Finally, the avant-garde has been traditonally understood as a reaction to realism (Burger 1984; Greenberg 1992). But there are problems in this opposition, for it can be argued that film is intrinsically ‘realist’ in its mechanical photographic reproduction of reality (as hold André Bazin, Stanley Cavell, Gilberto Perez). In fact, the outburst of non-live-action abstract animation in the German avant-garde of the 1920s marks one of the few film movements to break almost totally with realism. But there are general problems in the association of anti-realism with avant-garde modernism, especially if we treat the realist aspects of Manet and Courbet’s paintings as founding artefacts of ‘modernism’ (see Rosen & Zerner 1984). Equally the abstraction aesthetics of paintings in the early years of the twentieth century had a sense of the real in the ancient Platonic sense of there being a basic ‘reality’ of forms beyond the surface impressions of ordinary perceptions of the world. In other words, geometric shapes and colours themselves embodied a ‘reality’ in its most fundamental sense.

In recent years, the contemporary art gallery has embraced film and video, after neglecting them for decades. As such, avant-garde film (and video) has finally joined the other visual arts in an art mainstream demarcated by respectable critical and academic discourse. Their inclusion in the art museum with all that that entails in terms of film’s commodification and cultural acceptability signals the end of its ‘avant-garde’ marginality. But it does not necessarily signal the end of films dedicated to contesting and overthrowing such ‘commodification’ or ‘cultural acceptability’ – that is, an avant-garde.

In the end, all of these nomenclatures – avant-garde, underground, experimental, modernist, independent – share some sense of outsideness, of marginality, of independence. And perhaps that is all that can be gleaned from these different formulations in a short introductory book. But this lack of definition is also a measure of the film avant-garde’s restlessness. This book does not attempt to resolve the problem. That remains a quest for future researchers.

1   It is often forgotten that in the early years of the British avant-garde, famous for its conceptual rigour, the word ‘underground’ was rife (see O’Pray 1996; Le Grice 2002).

2 THE 1920s: THE EUROPEAN AVANT-GARDES

The film avant-gardes that emerged in the 1920s remain a potent influence to this day. They form part of probably the most creative period of twentieth-century avant-garde activity across the arts and are the indisputable models of avant-gardism. Indeed, the culture of the entire period was avant-garde.

The 1920s is a complex decade, one of myriad interrelated art movements, fashions and artists, still being unravelled by historians. Such art movements as Dada, Surrealism, Constructivism, Expressionism, de Stijl and others co-existed at the same time, with some artists like Hans Richter flitting from camp to camp (Rees 1979). The idea of the avant-garde, carried over from its first use in French painting of the early nineteenth century, is thus tossed around, argued over, and both rejected and embraced throughout the 1920s and into the 1930s.

The 1920s avant-gardes are also characterised by the cross-fertilisation of art forms – ballet, painting, poetry, music, sculpture, fashion, literature. These high-art sources are matched by an avant-garde fascination with and love of the popular ‘low-arts’ of circus, vaudeville, Hollywood silent comedies and puppetry. Thus in many ways, the avant-gardes saw their role as being both in opposition to high art and attempting to displace it, to become a new ‘high art’ so to speak. The precursor of such activity was the pre-World War One Italian Futurist movement which was anti-bourgeois, celebratory of modern urban life and culture, and interestingly included film in its multi-media practices (see Corra 1973; Tisdall & Bozzolla 1977).

Many of the early 1920s avant-garde films are now canonical – Man Ray’s Return to Reason (1923), Fernand Leger and Dudley Murphy’s Ballet mecanique (1924), René Clair’s Entr’acte (1924), Marcel Duchamp’s Anemic cinema (1926) and so on. Spread over many European countries, but centred mainly in Germany, France and the Soviet Union, with minor outbursts in England, Belgium, Poland, Czechoslovakia and the USA, the 1920s avant-garde established many of the genres and forms that shaped the subsequent film avant-gardes. Abstraction, collage/montage, anti-narrative, poetic, text and image, were all first intimated – even explored – in this period.

The 1920s film avant-garde in Western Europe is dominated in Germany by the graphic animation films of Hans Richter, Walter Ruttmann, Oskar Fischinger and Viking Eggeling (a Swede), who were inspired and motivated by painting, graphics, music and the period’s general air of experimentation. Running parallel to this activity was a French avant-garde rooted in the hot-house of Dada and Surrealism. Leger, Duchamp, Man Ray and the surrealists Luis Buñuel, Salvador Dali and Germaine Dulac were its leading artists. In the Soviet cinema two figures dominated – Sergei Eisenstein and Dziga Vertov – who will be discussed in the next chapter.

The ‘first’ French avant-garde

In many historical accounts of the avant-garde film, the contribution of the early French or ‘impressionist’ avant-garde is often neglected. One reason for this is its overshadowing by the ‘other’, extremely influential, art-based avant-garde discussed above. Furthermore this earlier French avant-garde, associated with Jean Epstein, Louis Delluc, Germaine Dulac and Abel Gance, was an experimentally-tinged narrative art-cinema embedded in the commercial sector. Between the end of World War One and the late 1920s, it also produced a large and varied amount of fascinating writing on film, including the avant-garde, most of which remained untranslated until the late 1980s (see Dulac and Epstein in Abel 1988). This early avant-garde was also responsible for the emergence of a supporting network of cine-clubs, film journals, critics and specialised cinemas, thus establishing an infrastructure which became a model for all future avant-garde film practices (see Abel 1988: 281).

The French ‘Impressionist’ avant-garde was inspired by the desire to make film an art form, and to that end it explored the idea of a ‘pure cinema’. It is well to remember that a result of World War One was the lasting ascendancy of the American film industry over the French. The ‘Impressionist’ idea of making film a specific medium with its own autonomous essence as art demanded distancing their own films from the mainstream popular cinema, although the French avant-garde sought a popular audience itself. The claim for film as the sixth art was already underway in the pre-war period in France.

Another reason for the early French avant-garde’s relatively low profile is its fundamentally ‘poetic’ approach to cinema, often dealing with reverie, visions and dream-like states, as in Jean Epstein’s La Chute de la maison Usher (1928), Germaine Dulac’s Coquille et le clergyman (1927), or the Russian emigre Dimitri Kirsanoff’s Menilmontant (1924). However, in Abel Gance’s work (La Roue [1922–23], for example), there is the more fashionable, hard-edged machine-aesthetic. Compared with the German experiments, the ‘Impressionists’ seemed to owe more to late nineteenth-century symbolism and impressionism than to full-blooded modernism. But this can be misleading as Epstein, Gance and others were very much influenced by early modernism and can be seen to be the first group of film-makers to explore the film as a means of representation and not simply as a medium of storytelling (see Abel 1988: 290-4).

The influential theoretical idea of the period was Epstein’s notion of ‘photogenie’, by which he attempted to explore the idea of the camera as a revelatory instrument of reality itself – a precursor of André Bazin’s ideas on film realism. Thus, unlike the ‘monta...