For her Kinetic Cinema program, LIQUID FILMS, cinedance pioneer, Amy Greenfield, takes dance into the water in a splash of amazing classic and neo cine-dance from 1903 to the 21st century, to transform the very nature of dance as only a screen medium can. Anna Brady Nuse interviewed Amy to find out why this theme, “Liquid”  excites her:

Liquid is sexy and always in motion and catches the light. It dances. And I found over the years so many liquid cinedances I love and feel connected to because of my own film “Tides”. And I thought how great it would be to see them all flow together.

Tides

They break boundaries which I feel still need to be broken in the field – there’s no way you can take dance and a camera into the water and not have kinetic cinema. And the definition of dance itself changes, becomes re-united with natural movement and at the same time transformed in the liquid flow, breaking totally with a tradition of dance vocabulary. All of these qualities are wonderful for cinematic material – they deal with color and light in relation to the body in motion on a cinematic level – a dynamic, unpredictable flow for both dance and camera. I feel that too much screen dance is static, and flat and unaware of the essence of cinema, which is light in motion, and how it can replace the third dimension with a transposed heightened plasticity.

“Nymph Of The Waves” was one of the first liquid cinedances, and is now an early film classic, and was perhaps the first use of a superimposition in the history of cinema. The connection was made right at the beginning, because it was a natural fit. One of Isadora Duncan’s great sources of inspiration was the movement of the ocean, but only with cinema could dance and the rhythms and motion and world of water come together and be communicated.

Your program spans the entire history of cinema. How have technological changes affected filmmakers’ treatment of this subject – water and the moving body?

To me what’s marvelous is what we do with the technology we have. Technology itself changes the kinds of films we can make but not the quality.

Yet it’s wonderful that now an individual filmmaker can successfully shoot with a light portable video camera of high enough quality underwater for a not staggering price tag. When Reifenstahl made the diving sequence from “Olympia” she had to invent technology to shoot it – gigantic cameras with a gigantic crew. But here are underwater dance films being made one-on-one, and we feel the intimacy, as in “Rapt”. And Elle Burchill can be the filmmaker and underwater dancer herself, an autobiographic cinedance. And Ben Dolphin shoots digitally with the high speed Phantom camera which can create slower than slow motion, a camera he uses for shooting TV commercials, here used for an experimental, personal cinedance.

In your film, “Tides”, the choreography of the camera is as integrated as the movement of the body being filmed. How did you direct this duet and then shape it in the editing?

I’d worked with Hilary Harris before in my film “Element” which is the mate to “Tides”. By the time we made “Tides” we almost communicated by osmosis, because we had “Element” as a basis. In “Tides” I wanted him with the Lo Cam handheld, actually standing in the waves himself, experiencing the same movement I was subjected to. And unless the film ran out or I ran out of steam we couldn’t stop, so the communion could build. The physical set-up worked in relation to communicating some key kinetic concepts: the extreme slow-motion, the movement of the camera in flow and counterflow to the human motion, and never losing the essential kinetic point of tension, where the body and ocean met. After the first shoot, looking at and discussing the film rushes became paramount -my pointing out “I want more of that, but more like this” or “I don’t want that” etc. Sometimes I directed with my hands – one hand the human motion, the other hand the camera motion, moving the hands as I wanted the two to symbiotically relate. This sense came from the fact that I had a film image going on on automatic inside my head while I was performing. So when I saw some kind of correspondence in the actual footage to that imaginary ideal film, that’d be great. While Hilary could never be inside my head, sometimes he came close.

The artists on your program represent a great range of filmmaking styles and approaches. Which are most like yours and which are the most different? Have any had an effect on your filmmaking? How?

All the films on the program are different, yet united by the maker truly wedding the surge and flow and weightless state and viscosity to how the camera moves in relation to the mover moving through the water. In that sense I feel a commonness with all the films. I feel close to the daring to expose the nude body in Sara Joel and Jody Oberfelder’s “Rapt”, the kinetic tension combined with slow motion in Ben Dolphin’s “Arising”, the film-maker herself in a journey in the water in “Mother/Daughter”, and when I saw “Immersion” several years ago I felt I wished I could have made a film something like it and felt I’d show it some day.

Arising

But the film-makers which have had the greatest affect on my film-making are Maya Deren and Kenneth Anger. Not Deren’s “Study In Choreography For Camera” except for the editing, but the beginning of “At Land”, which had such a direct influence on “Tides”, “Meshes Of The Afternoon” and “Ritual in Transfigured Time” for so many reasons, including the always inner drama coming from the silent language of movement, the border between metaphoric and real, natural movement and unnatural states, the woman’s silent journey, the strictness of structure, the mystery, the intensity. And her writing on film and dance. Kenneth keeps a great deal of this but does away with psychodrama. I hadn’t seen most of his work when I made a lot of my films but I know I was influenced by “osmosis”. He’s so powerful. Mystery and simplicity and the ‘dance’ totally part of the fabric of the film, and between the cuts, everything so cinematically visual/visionary, yet corresponding to some unknown invisible world and force. “Eaux D’Artifice” is a masterpiece. “Tides” was also influenced by Reifenstahl’s Diving Sequence from “Olympia”: the sculptural athleticism of the camera, the off axis turn of the camera, the dramatic point of intersection of body and water, the use of slow motion.

Coming up next at Kinetic Cinema:

Liquid Films

Curated by Amy Greenfield

Wednesday, November 11, 2009, 7:30pm

Tickets: $10

Reservations: http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/87612

Films include: “Nymph Of the Waves“, by American Mutoscope and Biograph, one of the first dance films ever made, superimposes the dancer with the ocean waves, as well as Amy Greenfield’s primal “Tides”, with Greenfield and camera operator, Hilary Harris, both braving the ocean tides in their symbiotic camera dance. Kenneth Anger’s restored “Eaux D’Artifice”, with his “Water Witch” in the Tivoli fountain, is one of the great classics of the American avant-garde, and Ben Dolphin’s “Arising” has us flying joyfully with his dancers inside a waterfall, blurring an artificial screen world and the natural world. Jodi Kaplan’s “Immersion”, Jody Oberfelder and Sara Joel’s “Rapt”, Elle Burchill’s “Mother Daughter” and Izabella Pruska-Oldenhof’s “Pulsion” all made recently, are original, daring, entrancing, lyrically beautiful new cine-dances envisioning women moving in real underwater worlds.

Club Midnight: Spirit into Flesh

Amy Greenfield is an award-winning film-maker and cinedance pioneer. In her latest project, CLUB MIDNIGHT: FLESH INTO LIGHT she combines her films about erotic dancers with Leonard Nimoy’s  photography about the divine female presence and re-imagines it all for the stage with a cast of live dancers (featuring Andrea Beeman as the Enchantress of Bioluminosity, Bessie Award-winning dancer Tasha Taylor & Vittoria Maniglio). The result is a true multi-media feast for the senses.

If that isn’t enough to intrigue you, the music features John Zorn’s Masada, words are spoken by Emmy Award-winning actress, Maeve Kinkead, and Lyda Borelli is seen in a 1917 Italian Diva film.

I’m particularly excited to see how Amy, a master of the film image, is able to work with live dance and combine theatricality with the screen. The show has been specially designed for the Leonard Nimoy Thalia Theater at Symphony Space, which is intimate and cabaret-ish, but also allows her to project real 35mm film on a full screen. It’s rare to see a work of such  uncompromised vision. After my disappointment last year in Isaac Julien’s “Cast No Shadow” with Russell Maliphant at BAM, I’m hoping that Greenfield’s “Club Midnight: Flesh Into Light” will have a strong choreographic presence and the dancers will not be completely consumed by the seductive screens.

Still from Club Midnight

CLUB MIDNIGHT: FLESH INTO LIGHT
January 30 and 31, 7:30 and 9:30 Nightly
Symphony Space, Broadway at 95th Street, NYC

Reservations: 212-864-5400 or www.symphonyspace.org

More info: www.clubmidnight.net
www.cinemabody.wordpress.com

CLUB MIDNIGHT by Amy Greenfield
Amy Greenfield is a pioneer of cinedance and videodance, and for the past decade has embarked on a series of shorts about exotic dancers and strippers that were recently compiled in collection called CLUB MIDNIGHT. In these sensual films, the female subjects are the embodiment of ancient female archetypes. Under Greenfield’s treatment, female strippers become goddesses reincarnate, who carry out rituals of mythological proportions. In DARK SEQUINS dancer Andrea Beaman becomes Salome, performing the dance of the seven veils for a single man in an empty theater. In WILD FIRE four women whirl like the elements, whipping up energy into a hot frenzy.


Inauguration of the Pleasure Dome by Kenneth Anger
Kenneth Anger’s work is not usually associated with dance, but nevertheless, his wordless films are highly attenuated to movement. According to the curators of “Cinema Dance Eros”, Anger trained as a dancer in his youth, and one of his unfinished projects was a film of a Jean Cocteau ballet (Oh, if only we could see that!). The programs this weekend will feature some of his most famous works including FIREWORKS (which first garnered him attention from Jean Cocteau) and INAUGURATION OF THE PLEASURE DOME.

These two programs are sure to fan the flames of any lover of mythology, magic, and eroticism! Don’t miss it!

Here are the details:

CINEMA DANCE EROS
Featuring filmmakers Kenneth Anger & Amy Greenfield

June 20th & 21st
Amy Greenfield in person!

ANTHOLOGY FILM ARCHIVES

32 SECOND AVENUE
NEW YORK, NY 10003
phone (212) 505-5181 fax
(212) 477-2714

PROGRAM 1:
Amy Greenfield DANCING IN FRONT OF THE DARK
(1980/1992, 4 minutes, video)
Amy Greenfield DIRT (1971, 3 minutes,
16mm)
Amy Greenfield ELEMENT (1973, 11 minutes, 16mm)
Kenneth Anger
FIREWORKS (1947, 15 minutes, 16mm)
Kenneth Anger MY SURFING LUCIFER (2007,
4.5 minutes, video)
Amy Greenfield TIDES (1982, 12 minutes, 16mm.
Photographed by Hilary Harris.)
Kenneth Anger EAUX D’ARTIFICE (1953, 13
minutes, 16mm)
Kenneth Anger RABBIT’S MOON (1950/1971, 16 minutes,
16mm)
Kenneth Anger PUCE MOMENT (1949, 6 minutes, 16mm. With Yvonne
Marquis.)
Amy Greenfield CLUB MIDNIGHT (2006, 8.5 minutes, 35mm. With Bonnie
Dunn & Andrea Beeman. Poetry by Charles Simic, spoken by Dennis
Hopper.)
Total running time: ca. 100 minutes.
-Friday and Saturday,
June 20 & 21 at 7:00.

PROGRAM 2:
Kenneth Anger
PUCE MOMENT (1949, 6 minutes, 16mm. With Yvonne Marquis.)
Amy Greenfield DARK
SEQUINS (2005, 13 minutes, 35mm. With Andrea Beeman.)
Amy Greenfield LIGHT OF
THE BODY (2004, 11 minutes, 35mm/video. With Francine Breen. Music by Marilys
Ernst.)
Amy Greenfield WILDFIRE (2003, 12 minutes, 35mm. With Andrea Beeman,
Francine Breen, Bonnie Dunn, Cynthia DeMoss. Music by Philip Glass.)
Kenneth
Anger INVOCATION OF MY DEMON BROTHER (1969, 11 minutes, 16mm. With Kenneth
Anger. Music by Mick Jagger.)
Kenneth Anger INAUGURATION OF THE PLEASURE DOME
(1954, 38 minutes, 16mm. With Samson DeBreer, Cameron, Curtis Harrington, Anaïs
Nin, and Kenneth Anger.)
Total running time: ca. 95 minutes.
-Friday
and Saturday, June 20 & 21 at 9:30. 

Kriota Willberg’s program, “The Worst of the Best” for Kinetic Cinema Monday night was extremely entertaining. She proved beyond a doubt that examining truly bad dance film is fun, inspiring, and highly effective at eliciting an emotional response from the crowd.

For all of you who thought about or responded to Kriota’s earlier online poll “What’s the Worse Dance Film Ever” you may be interested to see what made the cut in the end. Here is the list of the films she discussed Monday night and a short summary of why they were chosen:

The Mothering Heart (1913), Dir: DW Griffith
Reason: MADE BAD AND STRANGE BY HISTORY

Spectre of the Rose (1946), Dir: Ben Hecht, Dancer: Ivan Kirov, Chor: Tamara Geva
Reason: MADE WORSE BY THE BACKSTORY
 


Torch Song (1953), Dir: Charles Walters, Dancer: Joan Crawford and ensemble, Chor: Charles Walters
Reason: OFFENSIVE = BAD (Cast was in black face in 1953!!)

Staying Alive (1983), Dir: Sylvester Stallone, Dancers: John Travolta, Finola Hughes, Cynthia Rhodes, Chors:  Dennan and Sayhber Rawles
Reason: DRAMA!!!!

Center Stage (2000), Dir: Nicholas Hytner, Dancers: Amanda Schull, Sascha Radetsky, Ethan Stiefel, and ensemble, Chor: Susan Strohman
Reason: THE SAFE CHOICES AREN’T ALWAYS THE BEST CHOICES

Showgirls (1995), Dir: Paul Verhoeven, Dancers: Elizabeth Berkley, Gina Gershon and ensemble, Chor: Marguerite Pomerhn-Derricks
Reason: DRAMATIC! OFFENSIVE!  MADE WORSE BY BACKSTORY!

Preceding the bad dance films, Kriota also discussed the difference between BAD and BORING and illustrated it with a montage of boring dance film and video clips she culled from the web (actually her poor assistant, Gretchen culled them from the web!). The interesting thing about the difference between bad and boring is that it often comes down to money. Apparently the “have nots” aren’t really capable of making truly bad art, only dull art. As Kriota explained, when a filmmaker has over a million dollars to make a dance movie, and it turns out to be boring, then we are outraged, “Is that all that you could do?” and that automatically bumps it into the bad category. Whereas when a low budget video of, say, a naked man flapping around on the floor in a puddle goes on and on, it’s just dull and we feel like we are wasting our time.

I’d never thought of this difference before, but in terms of my emotional response it’s true, I’m more outraged by a squandering of resources and opportunities than watching a boring video on YouTube. I guess jealousy has a big role to play in what makes something bad or just boring, which is also proof positive of the irrationality behind all demarcations of good and bad. Who can really judge these things beyond a reasonable doubt? No one, but at least Kriota has taken a stab at defining her standards for judgment, something all of us curators, presenters, and critics should do!

Amy Greenfield, a cine- and videodance pioneer, was also in attendance Monday night and had some interesting insights to share…

“Thoughts on Monday. Great premise btw  – most thought-provoking program so far. That’s GREAT.  BAD ISN’T BORING!

It
was also so enjoyable because except for the boring tapes,
cinematically this “bad” filmdance was the best cinema of the season -
Hollywood films! I love the contradiction and feel it needs to be
recognized. Also realized Monday that “dance people” and “laypeople”
looking at them will have very different reactions cause most people
look at the film as film first, and in context with the rest of the film
as they were features. Yeats asked ‘How do you tell the dancer from
the dance?’ Monday night’s
delightful, insightful show made me ask ‘How do you tell the cinema
from the dance?’

Some of my own thoughts on Monday PM: 
I’ve
seen The Mothering Heart and it’s an important silent film by the great
film pioneer, DW Griffith. I love the film and never noticed the dance
moment screened. The actress in the foreground is Lilian Gish, one of
the great silent film actresses. Notice her restraint vs the dance.
Lilian and her sister Dorothy were sent by Griffith to study dance at
Denishawn. The ACTING in these films was good filmdance. (What’s good filmdance and
whats good dance put on film is there a difference?) Griffith used Denishawn dancers including Martha Graham in his masterpiece, Intolerance.

Ben
Hecht who made Specter of the Rose was one of the great Hollywood
screenwriters who obviously didn’t know anything about dance. The dance
in Spectre massacred influences from Deren’s Study In Choreography For Camera
and more especially Cocteau’s Blood Of The Poet. The two ‘good film
good dance’ moments had to do with real action, and the film actor’s
dictum – don’t act, re-act: when the dancer lays down the knife at the
sleeping woman’s neck, and when he lept out the window, shattering the
glass and going into non-existence as Nijinsky did on stage. That last
moment was GREAT and worth all the previous BAD dancing.

Staying
Alive was REALLY good cinema and I didn’t think it was bad dance either
though I just couldn’t separate the film from the dance until the unfortunately stupid climax which went over the top – and tellingly,
was the only part not shot close-up, fast cuts, and wasn’t such
excellent cinema.

The
Stroman [Center Stage] was bad dance and bad cinema. Interesting how bad cinema can ruin
good dance by Amanda Schull.“

Amy