:)
Anti-100 years of cinema manifesto
by Jonas Mekas
"As you well know it was God who created this Earth and everything on it. And he thought it was all great. All painters and poets and musicians sang and celebrated the creation and that was all OK. But not for real. Something was missing. So about 100 years ago God decided to create the motion picture camera. And he did so. And then he created a filmmaker and said 'now here is an instrument called motion picture camera. Now go and film and celebrate the beauty of the creation and the dreams of human spirit, and have fun with it.'
But the devil did not like that. So he placed a money bag in front of the camera and said to the filmmakers 'why do you want to celebrate the beauty of the world and the spirit of it if you can make money with this instrument?' And, believe it or not, all filmmakers ran after the money bag. The Lord realized he had made a mistake. So some 25 years later, to correct his mistake, God created independent avant-garde filmmakers and said, 'here is the camera. Take it and go into the world and sing the beauty of all creation and have fun with it. But you will have a difficult time doing it, and you will never make any money with this instrument.'
Thus spoke the Lord to Viking Eggeling, Germaine Dulac, Jean Epstein, Fernand Leger, Dmitri Kirsanoff, Marcel Duchamp, Hans Richter, Luis Bunuel, Man Ray, Cavalcanti, Jean Cocteau, and Maya Deren, and Sidney Peterson, and Kenneth Anger, Gregory Markopoulos, Stan Brakhage, Marie Menken, Bruce Baillie, Francis Lee, Harry Smith and Jack Smith and Ken Jacobs, Ernie Gehr, Ron Rice, Michael Snow, Joseph Cornell, Peter Kubelka, Hollis Frampton and Barbara Rubin, Paul Sharits, Robert Beavers, Christopher McLain, and Kurt Kren, Robert Breer, Dore O, Isidore Isou, Antonio De Bernardi, Maurice Lemaitre, and Bruce Conner, and Klaus Wyborny, Boris Lehman, Bruce Elder, Taka Iimura, Abigail Child, Andrew Noren and too many others. Many others all over the world. And they took their Bolex's and their little 8 and Super-8 cameras and began filming the beauty of this world, and the complex adventures of the human spirit, and they're having great fun doing it. And the films bring no money and do not do what's called useful.
And the museums all over the world are celebrating the one hundredth anniversary of cinema, costing them millions of dollars the cinema makes, all going gaga about their Hollywoods. But there is no mention of the avant-garde or the independents of our cinema.
I have seen the brochures, the programs of the museums and archives and cinematheques around the world. But these say, "we don't care about your cinema." In the times of bigness, spectaculars, one hundred million movie productions, I want to speak for the small, invisible acts of human spirit, so subtle, so small, that they die when brought out under the clean lights. I want to celebrate the small forms of cinema, the lyrical form, the poem, the watercolor, etude, sketch, portrait, arabesque, and bagatelle, and little 8mm songs. In the times when everybody wants to succeed and sell, I want to celebrate those who embrace social and daily tailor to pursue the invisible, the personal things that bring no money and no bread and make no contemporary history, art history or any other history. I am for art which we do for each other, as friends.
I am standing in the middle of the information highway and laughing, because a butterfly on a little flower somewhere in China just fluttered its wings, and I know that the entire history, culture will drastically change because of that fluttering. A super-8 millimeter camera just made a little soft buzz somewhere, somewhere on the lower east side of New York, and the world will never be the same.
The real history of cinema is invisible history. History of friends getting together, doing the thing they love. For us, the cinema is beginning with every new buzz of the projector, with every new buzz of our cameras. With every new buzz of our cameras, our hearts jump forward my friends."
-Jonas Mekas, February 11, 1996, American Center, Paris
(Thanks to Tim & Joel for this one!)
What a brilliant read; thanks for sharing it, J. Is "the real history of cinema" invisible or is it just not advertised as well as the history of commercial cinema?
Posted by: Thom | August 11, 2006 at 06:45 PM
Hey Thom, Thanks for your query and for reading (as always!) I'd have to say that yeah, the history of experimental cinema is totally invisible! But I don't have all of the answers on the nature of the invisible myself. I do think that part of what we do in experimental cinema is to discover the secrets of the infinite. Maybe that's what the invisible part means to me . . .
Posted by: jmac | August 12, 2006 at 11:39 PM
"...part of what we do in experimental cinema is to discover the secrets of the infinite."
Beautifully put, J. Thanks for your answers; I find them fascinating and I'm learning a lot. Would you say that since an interpretation of the history of experiment cinema remains so elusive that we're drawn to explain it through mysticism? Mekas seems to be doing some of that above (though I think a little tongue-in-cheek)...or is he just having a laugh?
Posted by: Thom | August 14, 2006 at 04:58 PM
T, your interpretation of this essay is what matters the most. :)
Okay, but I'll confess that I think that experimental cinema is best described by poetry, and that's why this essay is so moving. I really love the gentleness in Jonas's writing, especially that the fluttering of a butterfly's wings could be felt around the world and that one person with a super 8 camera could be connected to this beauty. It for some reason brings tears to my eyes...and the first time I read it I broke down. I really admire Jonas's writing, and I think that he is having fun with the essay as he illuminates the most invisible truth . . .
Posted by: jmac | August 14, 2006 at 07:34 PM
:)
I love Jonas. I remember having drinks and dinner with him and my friend Pip in Paris. After dinner, Jonas jumped on a bicycle and started peddling away (drunkenly- much like how I'm typing at the moment).
It was both a statement and a joke at the same time (though I was afraid that I might be witnessing an end to a chapter in experimental cinema- he did fall, but he got up, laughed, and carried on into the night)...
Thanks, jmac!
Posted by: seadot | August 20, 2006 at 11:39 PM
Seadot, that is a beautiful story! And I love that it took place in Paris especially . . .
Jonas & I live in the same neighborhood. One of these days, I hope that I just run into him at the right moment. :)
Posted by: jmac | August 21, 2006 at 10:34 AM
Hi Jennifer. Really nice text of Jonas Mekas! Can I use it in my blog? I think it must be shown everywhere in the avant-garde cinema medias.
Posted by: albert alcoz | September 06, 2006 at 05:38 AM
Hey Albert, yes, let's show Jonas's text everywhere! Please take his essay & post it on your blog. :)
Posted by: jmac | September 06, 2006 at 09:45 AM
This text is very beautiful and powerful. I hope you don't mind if I copy it and put it in my blog, too. :-)
Posted by: Celinejulie | January 20, 2009 at 09:30 AM