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editorial
welcome to Issue 28 of our journal!
It isn't only the increasing acceptance of video as a kind of virtual film, in theatres and elsewhere, that creates difficulties for us when we come to ask nowadays what is cinema and what is not. Discussing films and videos made by a range of young, gallery-based artists over the last five years, Chris Dercon remarks in his article Gleaning the Future from the Gallery Floor that these are works which seek to consume the whole of cinema
they do not distinguish between high art and low art, nor are they concerned with cinephilia. This formulation helps account for the resistance displayed by some critics towards the work of, for example, Matthew Barney, whose Cremaster cycle (of which I've seen only one part) has been accused of simulating or gesturing towards an idea of cinematic spectacle, without paying much heed to the specifically cinematic techniques such as editing and framing which such spectacles have used in the past to create meaning.
Yet objections of this kind arguably fail to take into account the double nature of cinephilia itself. On the one hand, traditional cinephilia marshals a discriminating gaze which claims to see more than is apparent to the ordinary viewer, possessing a wisdom that expresses itself in systematic analysis and canonical lists that attempt to sort the wheat from the chaff. Yet there is also a kind of cinephilia which is wholly indiscriminate and unsystematic in its demand for particular, fetishised scenes and moments, for the grain of projected celluloid, or for moving images in general. Grounding itself in personal experience and subjective whim rather than expert knowledge and would-be objective judgment, it's this latter cinephilia (which may manifest itself as a love of trash or simply a type of childhood nostalgia) that's by far the more widespread and normal. Hence it's no surprise that many young artists who draw on cinema take up an attitude to the medium which is less craft-based than fundamentally uncritical as if movies were understood as belonging more to life than to art.
Can the two standpoints be reconciled? Jim Knox implicitly addresses this problem in his discussion of Jack Stevenson's collection of essays Land of a Thousand Balconies, one of the highlights of this issue's extended book review section. Knox praises Stevenson's attention to such forms of para-cinema as Scopitone clips and the creative gimmickry of schlock maestro William Castle, an expanded cinema pioneer in his own right. Yet he also resists Stevenson's celebration of trash at the expense of art, maintaining that the artistic traditions contemporary with cinema, from Modernism onwards, reach their apotheosis in precisely the kind of 'anti-art' that Stevenson valorises. Another way of saying this might be that both avant-garde anti-art and the self-conscious cult of trash aim at undermining the artist's status as all-powerful creator, freeing audiences to reject conventional standards of judgment and seek out their own unknown pleasures. Yet it's hard to say whether getting rid of preconceptions about what qualifies as cinema or art should be considered an end in itself, or a first step towards the task of rebuilding a shared aesthetic from the ground up. At the least, though, it's a way of reminding ourselves that watching a movie is not simply a matter of contemplating life from a distance, but an experience as immediate and real as any other; and we have no way of knowing beforehand what criteria we should use to judge this experience, or how we ourselves may be affected and changed.
Special thanks for this edition go to James Leahy, Holly Aylett and Sylvia Lawson.
Jake Wilson
Senses of Cinema is an online film journal devoted to the serious and eclectic discussion of cinema. It has been set up to address a lack of cinephilic writing in local discourse, that is, writing sprung from the desire to think and write seriously, knowledgeably and passionately about film.
Senses of Cinema is unique in its eclecticism: it encourages articles of all styles (casual, personal, academic, critical, impressionistic and poetic - or a combination of these), analytical approaches (thematic, psychoanalytic, etc) and subject matter. The only criteria that we prescribe are that all articles are demonstrably passionate, serious, intelligent and insightful reflections and/or analyses on the topic of cinema.
Senses of Cinema promotes various divergent "voices" that speak to a wide and diverse audience. It aims to bring together a mix of writers: established and emerging, theorists and un-published cinephiles, filmmakers and film programmers, and local and international writers.
We are particularly committed to discussing art, independent, experimental and third world cinemas (everything from Renoir to Antonioni to Solàs to Oshima to Morrissey to Jost to Friedrich to Snow, feature films as well as short films), theorising new encounters with digital technologies, and promoting writing that increases one's understanding and appreciation of cinema.
We recognise that an object as ephemeral and ethereal as cinema continues to fascinate, to provoke, to inspire, to turn on, to evolve. And it is in relation to this object that we seek to facilitate and encourage expression and appreciation.
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