Georges Didi-Huberman documentaire Festival du nouveau Cinéma Special Forces René Jodoin Living Cinema Jean Detheux O Picasso Mingan Karl Lemieux Victoriaville Muto Halifax improvisation Éblouissement d'Icare Herqueville Jitter Basmati FNC NFB Max Len Lye Seule la main... Triptyque Le métro reloaded Solo la mano... Blu Praha-Florenc André Martin Fantômes Photographies gravure sur pellicule en direct René Lussier Rodrigue Jean Exercices d'animation 2008 Robert Marcel Lepage Double négatif Op Hop L'expression instrumentale Fred Frith Songs and Dances from the Inanimate World Pierre Juneau Free Radicals Duplicity Beirut Agamben Toi la Mordore Casa Obscura Home cycles décallés The Subway Variations sur deux photographies de Tina Modotti UC Davis 2007 Chloé San Francisco O Picasso - tableaux d'une surexposition New York Henri Meschonnic Perugia Buenos Aires Filature Rendez-vous du cinéma québécois

Saturday 7 August 2010

short bio

Courte biographie en français.

Anciennement de l’Office national du film du Canada, où il a realisé une vingtaine de courts métrages d’animation et un long métrage (La Plante humaine, prix du meilleurs long métrage de l’année 1996), Pierre Hébert est maintenant cinéaste et artiste indépendant. Depuis 2001, il a parcouru le monde avec son collègue musicien Bob Ostertag pour présenter plus de 70 fois, dans de nombreux pays, la performance d’animation en direct Living Cinema. Il a également travaillé avec des compagnies de danse et écrit deux livres sur le cinéma ainsi que de nombreux articles dans des revues spécialisées. Son dernier projet est l’installation video multilingue Seule la main… présentée à la Cinémathèque Québécoise en décembre 2009. En 2005, il a reçu le prix du Québec «Albert Tessier» pour l’ensemble de son oeuvre et en aout 2010 il a été nommé professeur honoraire au Emily Carr University of Art and Design. http://pierrehebert.com

(pour une biographie complète, aller ICI)

Short biography in English.

Formerly an employee of the National film board of Canada where he directed over twenty animation shorts and a feature (La Plante humaine, best Quebec feature award 1996), Pierre Hébert is now an independent artist and filmmaker. Since 2001, he traveled the world with his musician colleague Bob Ostertag and presented the Living Cinema live animation performance over 70 times in different countries. He equally worked with dance companies and wrote two books and many articles on cinema and animation. His last project is the multilingual video installation “Only the hand…, presented at la Cinémathèque québécoise in December 2009. In 2005, he received the “Albert Tessier” cinema award from the Quebec government for lifetime achievement and in August 2010, he was granted an honorary professorship by the Emily Carr University of Art and Design. http://pierrehebert.com

(for a complete biography, go HERE)

Thursday 5 August 2010

Autres projets musicaux

  • Nitshisseniten e tshissenitamin (Je sais que tu sais) Spectacle de chansons de Chloé Sainte-Marie, totalement chanté en langue innu (paroles et musiques de Philippe McKenzie), première le 12 février 2010, au théâtre du Gesu, à Montréal. Conception vidéo, Pierre Hébert; mise en scène, Brigitte Haentjens; scénographie, Simon Guilbault.
  • Exercice d'animation The Winnipeg Film Group Cinematheque, 30 Octobre 2009, Winnipeg; Loop Studio, Artscape Wychwood Barns, Toronto, coprésenté par New Adventure in Sound Art et The Pleasure Dome, 23-24 octobre 2009 (musique «live» de Stefan Smulovitz et animation gravée sur pellicule en direct); Area Sismica, Meldola (Forli), 3 octobre 2009 (musique «live» de Andrea Martignoni et animation gravée sur pellicule en direct), voyez la VIDÉO; INIT Club, présenté par Compu Events, Rome, 29 sept. 2009, (musique enregistrée de Bob Ostertag), voyez la VIDÉO; Théâtre de la Vieille Grille, Paris, 8 sept. 2009 (musique enregistrée de Bob Ostertag).
  • Performance à quatre mains avec Jean Detheux avec les musiciens Jean Derome, Robert Marcel Lepage et Diane Labrosse, dans le cadre de le série Ciné-Jazz du Festival International de Jazz de Montréal.11 juin 2009, Cinémathèque québécoise, Montréal. Voyez la VIDÉO-1 et la VIDÉO-2
  • Robert's Creek avec Stefan Smulovitz, Loop Studio, Artscape Wychwood Barns, Toronto, 23-24 octobre 2009; avec Stefan smulovitz, Vivianne Houle et Lori Freedman, Casa Obscura, Montréal, 27 mai 2009. Voyez la VIDÉO.
  • Glaces Performance solo avec une musique enregistrée de Pierre Duchesne, à l'auditorium de la faculté des Beaux-Arts de l'université de Lisbonne, 6 février 2009, Lisbonne.
  • Improvisation collective d'animation en direct entre Jean Detheux, Pierre Hébert et le collectif Basmati (Saul Saguatti de Bologne et Audrey Coïaniz de Marseille) avec de la musique de Jean Derome et de ses amis, à la Casa Obscura, Montréal, 17 septembre 2008. Lisez les NOTES. Visionnez la VIDÉO.
  • Filature de Joane Hétu, conception vidéo et mixage en direct, Guelph Jazz Festival, Guelph, Canada, 5 septembre, 2008.
  • Glaces (Ghiaccie) performance solo. musique de Pierre Duchesne, IO PROJECT (Investigation about Ontology), Macchiagodena, Italie, 17 mai 2007.
  • Glaces avec Pierre Duchesne, Rendez-vous du cinéma québécois, 22 février 2008, Cinémathèque Québécoise, Montréal. Lisez les NOTES - Visionnez la VIDÉO.
  • Fantômes - Le Métro reloaded avec Robert Marcel Lepage et René Lussier, événement spécial du Festival du nouveau cinéma, à l'occasion du lancement du coffret DVD Pierre Hébert -La science des images animées, 17 octobre 2007, à la Société des arts technologiques, Montréal. Visionnez les videos : (1), (2).
  • Filature de Joane Hétu, conception vidéo et mixage en direct, Festival International de Musique Actuelle de Victoriaville , 21 mai, 2007, Théâtre Laurier, Victoriaville, Canada.
  • Soirée d’ouverture de Champ Libre, performance avec Diane Labrosse, 18 septembre 2006, auditorium de la Grande bibliothèque, Montréal, Canada.
  • Soirée d’improvisation collective, 20 mai 2006, Computational Poetics Gathering, Simon Frazer University, Vancouver, Canada.
  • Filature, conception vidéo et mixage en direct pour un théâtre sonore de Joane Hétu, 16 au 18 février 2006, Usine C, Montréal, Canada.
  • Improvisation, avec Fred Frith, Intersection for the Arts, 23 septembre, 2004, San Francisco,USA.
  • Improvisation, avec Theo Bleckman, Barre Philips et….., Guelph Jazz Festival, septembre 2004, Guelph, Canada.
  • Hommage à Francis Bacon avec Bob Ostertag et Theo Bleckmann, Fundacao Serralves, mars 2003, Porto, Portugal.
  • Improvisation, (gravure sur pellicule en direct) avec le bassiste Carlos Bica, dans le cadre du Symposium sur l’animation et les autres arts organisé par la Casa da animacao, 22 novembre 2001, Théâtre Rivoli, Porto, Portugal.
  • Fleuve (ScratchVidéo/gravure sur pellicule) avec Éric Gagnon et Frédéric Lebrasseur, dans le cadre du Mois multi, les 9-10 février 2001, Méduse, Quebec ; dans le cadre de Vasistas, les 15-16 février 2001, Le Théâtre de la Chapelle, Montréal; également le 19 août. 2001, Théâtre de la verdure, Montréal.
  • Piano quatre mains, (gravure sur pellicule en direct) improvisation cinéma/musique avec le pianiste Guillaume Dostaler, 9 septembre 2000 à Calgary (Quickdraw Animation Society), 20 septembre. à Ottawa (Festival international du film d’animation) et les 28 et 30 septembre, Cinémathèque Québécoise, Montréal.
  • Test (ScratchVidéo/gravure sur pellicule), avec Éric Gagnon, Rendez vous du cinéma québecois,, 25 février 2000, Cinémathèque québécoise, Montréal ; Galerie Axe Néo 7, 13 juillet, Hull ; soirée PRIM/Vidéographe (avec Fred Lebrasseur), 15 septembre,… ; 6 octobre, Musée de la Civilisation (avec Jocelyn Robert et Pascale Landry), Québec.
  • Improvisation, (gravure sur pellicule en direct) avec Andrea Martignoni, 6 avril 2000, Festival Kind of Blues, Milan, Italie.
  • Entre Basura y Ciencia, (gravure sur pellicule en direct) avec Bob Ostertag et Baltasar Lopez, 11-13 février 2000, Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, San Francisco, USA.
  • Conference/Performance (performance solo de gravure sur pellicule en direct avec une musique pré-enregistrée de Bob Ostertag, parfois sous le titre Machines essoufflées), en 1999 au Student Animation Festival Ottawa et au Festival Fantoche (Baden, Suisse) ; en 2000, le 27 novembre, au Café-théâtre La Vieille Grille, Paris, le 23 novembre, à l’Universitade de Aveiro, Aveiro, Portugal, le 21 novembre au festival Tele Ciencia, Universitade de Tras-os-montes e alto douro, Villa Real, Portugal, le 19 novembre au Holland Animation Festival, Utrecht, Pays Bas ; en 2000, le 27 septembre, Cinémathèque québécoise, Montréal ; en 2001, le 23 janvier, à l’Université de Sonora, Hermosillo, Mexique, le 31 octobre, au CEGEP de Saint-Laurent, Montréal, le 1ier décembre, à la Maison du livre de l’image et du son, Villeurbane (Lyon), France, le 15 décembre, au centre d’artistes Hallwalls, Buffalo, USA ; en 2002, les 1ier et 2 octobre au cinéma FilmStudio, Rome, Italie (Les performances de Film Studio furent les dernières faites en gravure sur pellicule jusqu'en octobre 2009, à Meldola en Italie).
  • Nous perçons les oreilles, (gravure sur pellicule en direct) improvisation cinéma/musique avec Jean Derome et Johanne Hétu et Sylvie Massicotte, 17 mars 1998, Maison de la culture Mt-Royal, Montréal.
  • Improvisation, (gravure sur pellicule en direct) avec Bob Ostertag, Festival Sonic Acts., 28 aout 1997, Paradiso, Amsterdam, Pays-Bas.
  • Spiral, film et diapositives pour un spectacle multidisciplinaire de Bob Ostertag sur un texte de David Wojnarowicz, .(production The Exploratorium), 26 et 27 avril, 1996, Cowell Theater, San Francisco, USA.
  • Le combat avec l'ange, (gravure sur pellicule en direct) avec Robert M. Lepage, nov. en clôture du Festival de film de Belfort / Entre-vues, 1995, Belfort, France.
  • Improvisation (gravure sur pellicule en direct) avec David Borden, le 22 juillet 1993, Cornell Cinéma, Cornell University, Ithaca, USA.
  • I think we should (burn the damned thing down), (gravure sur pellicule en direct) avec Bob Ostertag, du 6 au 14 novembre, Vienne, Innsbruck, Wels, Salzburg, Nurnberg et Ulm, Autriche/Allemagne.
  • Sooner or later, (gravure sur pellicule en direct) avec Bob Ostertag, 21 au 24 mars 1991, festival Taktlos, Berne, Zurich et Bâle, Suisse ; également sous le titre Starting from scratch, 21 février 1991, Pacific Film Archive, Berkeley, et 24 février, San Francisco Cinematheque, The Eye Galery, San Francisco, USA.
  • La plante humaine, (gravure sur pellicule en direct) avec Robert M. Lepage, du 17 au 28 octobre 1990, Festival du Nouveau Cinéma, Théatre La Chapelle, Montréal ; également 5 avril, CEGEP de Matane, 13 avril Galerie OPTICA, Montréal, et du 26 juillet au 1er aout 1991, tournée en Bretagne, France.
  • In Memory, (gravure sur pellicule en direct) film et animation en direct sur une pièce musicale de Fred Frith, festival Next Wave/New Music America 89, 14 novembre 1989, Brooklyn Academy of Music Playhouse, , New York, USA.
  • Fred Frith connection projekte, (gravure sur pellicule en direct) avec 15 musiciens et une danseuse, du 13 au 15 mai 1989, New Jazz Festival, Moers, Allemagne.
  • Performances solo de gravure sur pellicule en direct, 29 mars 1989, Ecole d'arts visuels de l'Université d'Ottawa.
  • Performances solo de gravure sur pellicule en direct, 20 au 22 mars 1989, Centre de formation technique Les Gobelins, Paris, France. 29 mars 1989, Ecole d'arts visuels de l'Université d'Ottawa.
  • Duo Frith/Hébert (gravure sur pellicule en direct) avec Fred Frith, les 6, 7 et 8 janvier 1989, Musée d'art contemporain, Montréal ; également le 1er juillet 1989, Glasgow International Jazz Festival, Royaume-Uni.
  • Mutations, films, diapositives et dessins sur les décors pour un spectacle multi-média de Michel Lemieux présenté en première aux Jeux olympiques d'hiver de Calgary puis à Montréal, au Métropolis, au mois de mars, pendant 3 semaines.
  • Adieu Leonardo (gravure sur pellicule en direct) avec Jean Derome, Robert M. Lepage et René Lussier, du 9 au 17 octobre 1987, en marge de l'exposition Léonard de Vinci, ingénieur et architecte au Musée des Beaux-Arts de Montréal ; également le 4 avril 1988 au Du Maurier Theatre, Harbour Front, à Toronto ; puis en duo avec Robert M. Lepage dans le cadre du 5ième Festival international de la bande dessinée, les 6 et 7 avril 1989, Centre d'essai de l'Université de Montréal, puis du 2 août au 7 septembre, tournée aux Pays Bas (ouverture du Holland Animation Festival, t'Hoogt, Utrecht; théatre Frascati, Amsterdam; Middleburgh Film Theater; Oude Theater, Oss).
  • Adieu bipède avec Jean Derome, Robert M. Lepage et René Lussier, l0 février 1987, Rendez-vous du cinéma québécois ; également du 1ier au 3 avril 1987 à Chicoutimi, Jonquière et Alma.
  • Confitures de Gagaku, (gravure sur pellicule en direct) spectacle multidisciplinaire de Jean Derome, du 18 au 28 septembre 1986, Centre culturel Calixa-Lavallée, Montréal ; également en ouverture du Festival international de musique actuelle de Victoriaville-1987, et le 19 mars 1988, Spectrum, à Montréal. (Ce furent les premières performances de gravure sur pellicule en direct)
  • La symphonie interminable (spectacle cinéma/musique avec Jean Derome, Robert M. Lepage et René Lussier) tournée européenne à LaRochelle, Paris, Bruxelles et Amsterdam, en décembre 1985, puis 14 représentations en février et avril 1986 au Cinéma ONF du Complexe Guy Favreau, Montréal.
  • Chants et danses du monde inanimé avec Robert M. Lepage et René Lussier, en 1984 à Rouyn-Noranda, Montréal et Québec, puis en 1985, à Sherbrooke, à Victoriaville, au Festival international de Jazz de Montréal et à la Galerie Optica.

Other projects with music

  • Nitshisseniten e tshissenitamin (I know that you know) Show of signer Chloé Sainte-Marie, totally sung in the Innu language (music and lyrics by Philippe McKenzie), premiered on Feb. 12, at Theater Gesu in Montreal. Video design by Pierre Hébert; direction by Brigitte Haentjens; set design by Simon Guilbault.
  • Animation Exercise The Winnipeg Film Group Cinematheque, October 30 2009, Winnipeg (recorded music by Bob Ostertag); Loop Studio, Artscape Wychwood Barns, Toronto, copresented by New Adventure in Sound Art and The Pleasure Dome, Octobre 2009 23-24 (live music by Stefan Smulovitz and live scratched animation); Area Sismica, Meldola (Forli), Octobre 3 2009 (live music by Andrea Martignoni and live scratched animation), watch the VIDEO; INIT Club, presented by Compu Events, Rome, Sept. 29 2009, (recorded music by Bob Ostertag), watch the VIDEO; Théâtre de la Vieille Grille, Paris, Sept. 8 2009 (recorded music by Bob Ostertag).
  • Four hands performance with Jean Detheux, and musicians Jean Derome, Robert Marcel Lepage and Pierre Tanguay, Ciné-Jazz series, Montreal International Jazz Festival, June 11 2009, Cinémathèque québécoise, Montreal. Watch VIDEO-1 and VIDEO-2
  • Robert's Creek with Stefan Smulovitz, Loop Studio, Artscape Wychwood Barns, Toronto, October 23-24 2009; with Stefan smulovitz, Vivianne Houle and Lori Freedman, Casa Obscura, Montreal, May 27 2009. Watch the VIDEO.
  • Glaces (Floating ice) Solo performance with recorded music by Pierre Duchesne, at the auditorium of the fine arts faculty of the University of Lisbon, February 6 2009, Lisbon.
  • Collective improvisation of live animation between Jean Detheux, Pierre Hébert et the Basmati collective (Saul Saguatti from Bologna and Audrey Coïaniz from Marseille) with music by Jean Derome and his friends, at the Casa Obscura, Montreal, September 17 2008. Read the NOTES. See the VIDEO.
  • Filature by Joane Hétu, live video mixing , Guelph Jazz Festival, Guelph, Canada, September 5 2008.
  • Glaces (Ghiaccie) solo performance with music by Pierre Duchesne, IO PROJECT (Investigation about Ontology), Macchiagodena, Italy, May 17, 2008.
  • Glaces (Floating Ice) duet with Pierre Duchesne, Rendez-vous du cinéma québécois, February 22 2008, Cinémathèque Québécoise. Read the NOTES - See the VIDEO
  • Fantômes - Le Métro reloaded with Robert Marcel Lepage and René Lussier, special event of Festival du nouveau cinéma, for the launching of the DVD set Pierre Hébert -The Sience of Animated Images, Octobre 17 2007, at Société des arts technologiques, Montreal. See the videos : (1), (2).
  • Filature by Joane Hétu, live video mixing, Festival International de Musique Actuelle de Victoriaville , May 21, 2007, Laurier Theater, Victoriaville, Canada.
  • Opening of Champ Libre, performance with Diane Labrosse, September18, 2006, Grande bibliothèque auditorium, Montreal, Canada.
  • Evening of collective improvisation, May 20, 2006, Computational Poetics Gathering, Simon Frazer University, Vancouver, Canada.
  • Filature, live video mixing for a musical theater piece by Joane Hétu, February 16 to 18, 2006, Usine C, Montreal, Canada.
  • Improvisation, with Fred Frith, Intersection for the Arts, September 23, 2004, San Francisco,U.S.A.
  • Improvisation, with Theo Bleckman, Barre Philips et….., Guelph Jazz Festival, September 2004, Guelph, Canada.
  • Homage to Francis Bacon with Bob Ostertag and Theo Bleckmann, Fundacao Serralves, March 2003, Porto, Portugal.
  • Improvisation, (live scratched animation) with Carlos Bica, Symposium on Animation and Other Arts, organized by Casa da animacao, November 22. 2001, Rivoli Theater, Porto, Portugal.
  • Fleuve (ScratchVidéo/scratching on film) with Éric Gagnon et Frédéric Lebrasseur, February 9-10, 2001, Mois multi, Méduse, Quebec ; February 15-16, Vasistas, 2001, Théâtre de la Chapelle, Montreal; August 19. 2001, Théâtre de la Verdure, Montreal.
  • Four hands Piano, (live scratched animation), improvisation with Guillaume Dostaler, September 9, 2000 Quickdraw Animation Society Calgary; September 20, 2000,. Ottawa International Animation Festival; September 28 and 30, Cinémathèque Québécoise, Montreal.
  • Test (ScratchVidéo/scratching on film) with Éric Gagnon, Rendez vous du cinéma québecois,, February 25, 2000, Cinémathèque québécoise, Montréal ; July 13, Galerie Axe Néo 7, Hull ; soirée PRIM/Vidéographe (with Fred Lebrasseur), 15 September 15, Cabaret Le Lion d’Or, Montreal; October 6, Musée de la Civilisation (avec Jocelyn Robert et Pascale Landry), Québec.
  • Improvisation, (live scratched animation) with Andrea Martignoni, April 6, 2000, Kind of Blues Festival, Milano, Italy.
  • Entre Basura y Ciencia, (live scratched animation), with Bob Ostertag et Baltasar Lopez, February 11-13 2000, Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, San Francisco, U.S.A.
  • Conference/Performance (solo performance of live scratched animation with recorded music by Bob Ostertag, sometimes under the title Breathless Machines), November 27, 1999 Festival Fantoche, Baden, Switzerland; October,1999, Student Animation Festival, Ottawa; September 27, 2000, Cinémathèque québécoise, Montreal ; November 19, 2000, Holland Animation Festival, Utrecht, Nederlands ; November 21, 2000, Tele Ciencia Festival, Universitade de Tras-os-montes e alto douro, Villa Real, Portugal; November 23, 2000, Universitade de Aveiro, Aveiro, Portugal; November 2000, Café-théâtre La Vieille Grille, Paris; January 23, 2001, Sonora University, Hermosillo, Mexico, October 31 2001, CEGEP de Saint-Laurent, Montreal, Décember 1, 2001, Maison du livre de l’image et du son, Villeurbane (Lyon), France; Décember 15, 2001, Hallwalls artist center, Buffalo, USA ; October 1-2, 2002, FilmStudio, Rome, Italy (this was my last live scratched animation until October 2009 in Meldola, Italy).
  • Nous perçons les oreilles, (live scratched animation), cinema/music/writing impro with Jean Derome, Johanne Hétu and Sylvie Massicotte, March 17 1998, Maison de la culture Mt-Royal, Montreal.
  • Improvisation, (live scratched animation) with Bob Ostertag, Sonic Acts Festival., August 28, 1997, Paradiso, Amsterdam, Nederlands..
  • Spiral, films for a multidisciplinary piece by Bob Ostertag on a text by David Wojnarowicz, .(production The Exploratorium), April 26-27, 1996, Cowell Theater, San Francisco, USA.
  • Le combat avec l'ange, (live scratched animation)with Robert M. Lepage, Festival de film de Belfort / Entre-vues, November1995, Belfort, France.
  • Improvisation (live scratched animation), with David Borden, July 22, 1993, Cornell Cinema, Cornell University, Ithaca, USA.
  • I think we should (burn the damned thing down), (live scratched animation), with Bob Ostertag, du 6 au 14 November 6 to 14, Vienna, Innsbruck, Wels, Salzburg, Nurnberg et Ulm, Austria/Germany.
  • Sooner or later, (live scratched animation), with Bob Ostertag, March 21 to 24, 1991, Taktlos festival, Bern, Zurich and Bazel, Suitzerland ; also under the title Starting from scratch, February 21, 1991, Pacific Film Archive, Berkeley, and February 24, San Francisco Cinematheque, The Eye Galery, San Francisco, USA.
  • La plante humaine, (live scratched animation), with Robert M. Lepage, October 17 to 28, 1990, Festival du Nouveau Cinéma, Théatre La Chapelle, Montreal ; also April 5, 1990, CEGEP de Matane, April 13, 1990, OPTICA Galery, Montreal, and from July 26 to August 1 1991, tour of Brittany, France.
  • In Memory, film and live scratched animation on music by Fred Frith, Next Wave/New Music America festival 89, November 14, 1989, Brooklyn Academy of Music Playhouse, , New York, USA.
  • Fred Frith connection projekte, (live scratched animation). with 15 musicians and one dancer, May 13 to 15 1989, New Jazz Festival, Moers, Germany.
  • Solo performances of live scratch animation, March 20 to 22 1989, Centre de formation technique Les Gobelins, Paris, France; March 29, 1989, School of visual arts, Ottawa University.
  • Frith/Hébert Duet (live scratched animation), with Fred Frith, January 6 to 8, 1989, Contemporary Art Museum, Montreal ; also July 1, 1989, Glasgow International Jazz Festival, United Kingdom.
  • Mutations, films, transparencies and drawings for a multi-média show by Michel Lemieux, Calgary Winter Olympic Games, also in Montreal, Métropolis, three weeks in March.
  • Adieu Leonardo (live scratched animation) with Jean Derome, Robert M. Lepage et René Lussier, du 9 au 17 October 9 to 17, 1987, at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts; also April 4, 1988, Du Maurier Theatre, Harbour Front, Toronto ; then with Robert M. Lepage, 5ième Festival international de la bande dessinée, April 6-7 1989, Centre d'essai de l'Université de Montréal, August 2 to September 7, tour in the Nederlands (Holland Animation Festival, t'Hoogt, Utrecht; Frascati Theater, Amsterdam; Middleburgh Film Theater; Oude Theater, Oss).
  • Adieu bipède (live scratched animation) with Jean Derome, Robert M. Lepage and René Lussier, February 10 1987, Rendez-vous du cinéma québécois ; April 1-3 1987, Chicoutimi, Jonquière and Alma.
  • Confitures de Gagaku, multidisciplinary show by Jean Derome, September18 to 28 1986, Centre culturel Calixa-Lavallée, Montreal ; opening of the Festival international de musique actuelle de Victoriaville-1987, and March 19, 1988, Spectrum, Montreal.
  • La symphonie interminable(live scratched animation) with Jean Derome, Robert M. Lepage and René Lussier, European Tour (LaRochelle, Paris, Bruxelles and Amsterdam) December 1985; 14 presentations, February and April 1986, Cinéma ONF du Complexe Guy Favreau, Montreal. This was my first project of live scratched animation
  • Chants et danses du monde inanimé with Robert M. Lepage and René Lussier, in 1984, Rouyn-Noranda, Montreal et Quebec City, and in 1985, Sherbrooke, Victoriaville, and Montreal International Jazz Festival.

Wednesday 14 July 2010

Films by Pierre Hébert

  • 2009- Triptych, with music by Bob Ostertag, vidéo HD, 30 min. Short description, credits and technical specifications. Read the TEXT and the BLOG (only in French), SEE THE VIDEO.
  • 2007- Herqueville, (prints by Michelle Corbisier, poems by Serge Meurant, music by Fred Frith) video HD 720p24, 22 min., indépendent prod. Read the NOTES, the BLOG and the INTERVIEW - See the VIDEO .
  • 2005- The Statue of Giordano Bruno, codirected with Bob Ostertag, video, 12 :09 min. independent production. Short description, credits and technical specifications See the VIDEO
  • 2005- The Technology of Tears, music by Fred Frith, video, 13 :56 min., independent production. See the VIDEO
  • 2004- Variations on two photographs by Tina Modotti, video, 37 min., independent production. Read the NOTES - See the VIDEO.
  • 2003- Between Science and Garbage, codirected with Bob Ostertag, 49 min. 34 sec. Vidéo et DVD (Tzadik), independent production. special mention, Montreal International Festival of New Cinema, best creation prize of the Conseil des arts et des lettres du Québec (quebec Art Council). See the VIDEO.
  • 1996- La Plante humaine (The Human Plant), 78 m. 20 s., 35mm, NFB / Arcadia films. 1996 SODEQ-AQCC for the best Quebec feature. Short description, credits and technical specifications.
  • 1988- La Lettre d'amour (The Love Letter), 16 m. 20 s., 16mm et 35mm. NFB; musiqc by Robert M. Lepage; text by Sylvie Massicotte.
  • 1987- Adieu bipède , 16 m., 35mm, NFB; poem by Henri Michaux; music dby Jean Derome, Robert M. Lepage and René Lussier.
  • 1986- Love addict, codirected with Fernand Bélanger, 5 m., 35mm. NFB; music by Offenbach.
  • 1986- O Picasso- tableaux d'une surexposition (O Picasso, pictures of an overexposure), 20 m., 35mm, ONF; music by Jean Derome, Robert M. Lepage and René Lussier. This film is not available anymore because the Picasso Estate refused to renew the right on the paintings.
  • 1984- Songs and Dances of the Inanimate World - the Subway, 14 m. , 35mm , NFB; music by Robert M. Lepage and René Lussier. Short description, credits and technical specifications. See the VIDEO.
  • 1984- Etienne et Sara (Etienne and Sara), 15 m. 30 s., 35mm, NFB; with poems by Serge Meurant; music by René Lussier.
  • 1982- Memories of War, 16 m., 35mm, NFB. Short description, credits and technical specifications
  • 1978- Entre chiens et loup (Between Dogs and Wolf), 22 m., 16mm, B&W, NFB.
  • 1974- Santa Claus is coming tonight, 12 m. 20 s., 35mm, NFB. Short description, credits and technical specifications.
  • 1973- A piece of Cake, codirected with Gilles Gascon, 14 m., 35mm, NFB.
  • 1973- Du Coq à l'âne, codirected with Francine Desbiens and Suzanne Gervais, 10 m. 30 s., 35mm, NFB.
  • 1971- Notions élémentaires de génétques (Elementary Notions of Genetics), 7 m., 35mm. NFB; music by Andrée Paul and the Imphonie.
  • 1970- Le Renard et le corbeau (The Fox and the Crow), codirrected with Francine Desbiens, Michèle Pauzé and Yves Leduc, 3 m., 35mm, NFB.
  • 1968- Around Perception, 16 m., 35mm, NFB. Short description, credits and technical specifications, see the VIDEO.
  • 1967- Opus 3, 7 m., 35 mm, B&W, NFB. Short description, credits and technical specifications.
  • 1967- Population Explosion, 14 m., 35mm, NFB; music by Ornette Coleman. Short description, credits and technical specifications.
  • 1966- Op hop, 3 m. 30 s., 35mm, B&W, NFB. Short description, credits and technical specifications. See the VIDEO.
  • 1964- Opus 1, 4 m., 16mm, B&W, independent production. See the VIDEO.
  • 1963- Petite histoire méchante (Short Silly Story), 30 s., 16mm, B&W, independent production.
  • 1962- Histoire d'une bébite (Story of a Bug), 8 m., 16mm, B&W, independent production.
  • 1962- Histoire verte (Story in Green), 3 m., 16mm, independent production.

Films de Pierre Hébert

La statue de Giordano Bruno

La statue de Giordano Bruno, 12 min. 10 sec. coréalisé par Pierre Hébert et Bob Ostertag. Image et animation : Pierre Hébert. Musique : Bob Ostertag. Production indépendante. Distribution : Vidéographe.

Ce film a été composé à partir de la captation d'une performance d'animation en direct présentée à Rome en janvier 2005 par Pierre Hébert et le musicien Bob Ostertag. La performance était basée sur un tournage de prise de vue réelle faite l'après-midi même au Campo dei Fiori où le philosophe Giordano Bruno a été brulé par l'Inquisition en 1600. Une statue a été érigée en sa mémoire au 19ième siécle, qui domine sombrement le marché qui se tient quotidiennement sur la place. Le film traite de la ressurgence fantomatique du passé dans ce lieu où la vie quotidienne suit imperturbablement son cours. La captation de la performance a été retravaillée et raccourcie par la suite et complémentée de plusieurs performances faites en atelier.

The Statue of Giordano Bruno, 12 min. 10 sec. codirected by Pierre Hébert and Bob Ostertag. Image and animation : Pierre Hébert. Music : Bob Ostertag. Independent production. Distribution : Vidéographe.

This film was made out of the capture of a live animation performance presented in Rome in January 2005 by Pierre Hébert and the musician Bob Ostertag. It is based on live action shooting done that same afternoon on the Campo dei Fiori where the philosopher Giordano Bruno was burned by the Inquisition in 1600. A commemorative statue was erected in the 19th century, that somberly dominate the market held everyday on the piazza. The film is about the resurgence of the past in this place where normal daily activities go on imperturbably. The capture of the performance was reworked, shortened and complemented with more studio performances.

Friday 7 May 2010

The idea of animation and instrumental expression

This is a rough English translation of the French text «L'idée de l'animation et l'expression instrumentale». A corrected and polished version will be on line soon.


THE IDEA OF ANIMATION AND INSTRUMENTAL EXPRESSION

by Pierre Hébert

(written between Brussels, Lisbon and Montreal in February and March 2009)

This is a personal manifesto. I say «manifesto» because it is a programmatic text organized around a number of injunctions. I say «personal» firstly because I direct those injunctions essentially toward myself and nobody else. The others may use them the way they want, take advantage of them, if this seems possible, or ignore them. «Personal» also, because it is constructed around my personal history and because it draws from the thoughts and the works of people I have known and who have had a decisive impact at specific moments in the course of my professional life. These are the late André Martin, Norman McLaren and Johan van der Keuken. This text can thus be considered as a posthumous tribute to the strength of their views and an expression of gratitude to them for influencing my creative life in ways that would have been very different without them.

André Martin plays a predominant role because, very recently, less than a year ago in fact, I became aware of the importance of his work. His thought suddenly acted as a crossroad between all the other components of this text and with my endless effort in trying to understand what I do and what I should be doing. The reader will find in this text a mixture of general considerations – like an attempt to redefine cinema – and many notes of autobiographical character.


An attempt at definition: cinema is a complex of time and space such as modulated by a technical apparatus. This modulation may serve historically as a foundation to different forms (animation, documentary, fiction). The possible range of those modulations at any given moment of history is dependant upon the changing conditions of the technical apparatus of the cinema. From the beginning of its existence up until now, the unchanged core of the apparatuses «of cinema» was based on the division of the flow of time into a succession of distinct images. This is the deep tenet of cinema upon which the universality of a technical definition of the cinema is based.

However, this division of the flow of time was accomplished successively through the use of apparatuses descending from heterogeneous technical lineage (chemical/mechanical for classical cinema, electronics for television and video, and calculating machines for digital video). The uniqueness of the history of cinema is that it bears the marks of breaks, caused by jumps from one technical lineage to the next. Each breaks implies a profound change in the mode of discontinuously withholding discrete images from the flow of time, in the mode of accessing the succession of images in order to work on them (editing, alteration), and finally in the mode of public presentation. In every instance, these changes, conditioned by technological evolutions, have had important aesthetic consequences that have led repetitively to attempts to define the new state of things as autonomous forms of art, i.e. cinema, video, digital art. Each of these breaks has resulted in the emergence of individual forms of discourse that each time, aspire to define a state of esthetic autonomy. In fact, there is very little communication between these forms of discourse.

Cinema as such is divided along two axes: 1- synchronically, between the aesthetic zone of formal composition of space and time and the material zone of the technical apparatus; 2- diachronically, in the jumps from one technological lineage to the next, events that happen first at the technical level and are then translated to the aesthetic sphere. After two major shifts, in the technical paradigm, this double scission (one entailing the other) now appears as the basis for the structure and form of the cinema. Thus, it is an important time to salvage the artistic and theoretical patrimony of the «classical cinema» and of video, to ensure their relevance in the current and somewhat amnesic digital world. This undertaking can only be directed against the triumphalism of the digital era but it cannot mean a rejection of the successes of the digital, which is an ineluctable fact. Rather, the challenge is to reposition the digital technology within the historical context to which it belongs. It would also mean an attempt to redefine cinema and give it a new ground under the light of what only now can we understand of its total history and not only of its stylistic history.

As I said earlier, the constant of this complex technical history is the fixation of time in series of distinct images. This principle transcends the succession of technological lineages and constitutes the constant that may allow us to reason in a unified way the double bind of the technical history of the cinema (“cinema” not only in its classical historic meaning but in a global meaning which I champion). I write precisely «to reason the technical history of cinema» as a unitary movement through its differences and variations. This is important because, in the practice of creation of «complexes of time and space», often time, the technical background is considered as a given, theoretically reduced to a neutral element. Of course, the fact of technical evolution is generally admitted but, rarely, is it fully recognized that, since its origin, the cinema was always dependant on technology, consequently always in a transitory state determined by technological changes. It is like if, on the one hand, there was an autonomous esthetic zone and, on the other hand, a technical zone of which the deeper level, the frame by frame structure, could be considered as not meaningful.

We can find in the animation cinema, and in some areas of experimental cinema, the only exceptions to this deafness to the echoes of the technological depth. That is to say that only animation cinema, globally, with its conscious practice of the frame by frame principle, and this part of experimental cinema that deals, amongst other things, with flickers, give a specific esthetic prolongation to the fragmentation of the cinematographic flow in distinct images, and thus tries to specifically connect the two levels.


At this point, a development is needed about what I just referred to as “globally, the animation cinema”. It must be reminded that the appellation “animation cinema” is a rather late arrival in the history of the cinema. It seems quite certain that it was invented and defined (in French: «cinema d’animation») by the French critic and theoretician André Martin and his friends around 1955 (on this subject, the studies of Hervé Joubert-Laurencin are an essential reference). This does not mean that before this date there were not films constructed around the frame by frame principle. Quite the contrary, the long tradition of “animated cartoons” goes back to the early beginning of cinema and even before. But never was it called “animation cinema” before the 50’s.

The terminological invention of Martin aimed to designate the extraordinary renewal in the art of “frame by frame” filmmaking in the years following World War II. This renewal found its landmarks in the new animated cinematography of the Eastern European countries, in the productions of the National Film Board of Canada, more particularly the works of Norman McLaren, and in the works of the dissident animators of the Disney empire and also of many independents around the world. There was in those years an extraordinary outburst of creativity that took advantage of the retreat in cartoons production due to the arrival of television.

Many things were simultaneously accomplished by the new appellation. First, by the very words it was using, it was simply saying that animation was «cinema» and not only a particular and marginal genre. Second, it accounted for the collapse of the hegemonic style and ways of the American “animated cartoons” tradition and all its avatar around the world. So it had a critical edge aiming at resituating the cartoon tradition in the framework of this new entity, more widely defined on the ground of the extreme diversity of expressions of the new emerging animation. Thirdly, it characterized this emergence in terms of a triple liberation. First, a liberation from the narrow graphic style of animated caricatural drawings. Also a liberation from the hegemonic technique of cell animation as practiced by large animation studios based upon an industrial division of labor. This was assessing the appearance of a much wider spectrum of techniques, most of them practiced individually in an artisanal setting. Finally, a liberation from an understanding of animated movement constrained by a very rigid codification, to open it up to a much wider register of frame by frame expression, ranging from the radically shattered vibratory discontinuity of “drawn on film” animation (like Blinkity Blank by Norman McLaren, the tutelary example of this), to a static approach to animation ( like the hieratic rigidity of Jiri Trnka’s puppets). For André Martin, this third liberation constituted the very hearth of the emergence of modern animation, precisely because it had to do with the deep nature of the cinema.

This third liberation was the one that counted most for him and was understood as the driving force for the two others. From this angle, the views of André Martin were less an assessment of an actual state of things in animation cinema than the anticipation, based on signs that he considered significant, of a program, of a line of action, of an utopia of the animation cinema and of the cinema as a whole. It is in this perspective that he associated the renewal of animation cinema to the work of the pioneers of the early days, at the time of the invention of animation – which was one and only thing with the invention of the cinema. The accomplishments of those pioneers had been totally forgotten when the large industrial animation studios developed. So Martin rehabilitated, amongst others, Émile Cohl and Émile Rayneault, which is not without raising questions and doubts about the actual moment of the invention of the cinema. Thus the idea of defining the new, newly named, animation cinema as a potential refoundation of cinema, the idea that there is only “one” cinema with animation and its frame by frame principle in its center. What he was writing in his visionary texts of the 50’s, was really the dazzling reappearance of the origin at the moment of emergence of the new, as a pledge for the future.

Therefore, the course of cinema and animation underwent a severe quake, more or less between 1950 and 1965, of which the creation of the Annecy Festival and the establishment of ASIFA (the International Association of Animated Film) were the resultants and the conclusion. This tremor was felt by André Martin at a very early stage (1952), in the text “Animated drawing and Weight” (cosigned with his colleague Michel Boschet). Maybe this is the real event because it determines the appearance of “the idea of animation” on which I will comment later. He (with a few others) named this tremor «animation cinema» and did everything to organize the potential energy it contained in an actual movement. During a decade, he deployed an intense activity as an educator, a propagandist and an organizer to achieve this. Amongst many other things, he organized at the Cannes Festival, in 1956, the first systematic screenings of animation films and the first international meeting of the major directors of this emerging new animation.

But no later than at the fifth edition of the Annecy Festival (1965), he began to express his disillusion in stronger and stronger terms. According to him, the animation filmmakers missed the historical moment, by not understanding that the deep focus of the tremor was located at the level of the frame by frame expression of motion, and by satisfying themselves with the consumerist exploration of the most fashionable graphic styles. It resulted in a narrow and impoverished understanding of animated motion. In his diagnosis, Martin hesitated between, on the one hand, criticizing the directors for this failure or, on the other hand, seeing all of this merely as a side effect of a much wider set of social phenomena, like the fast emergence of television, the acceleration of social communications and information, the dominance of the world market and the beginning of the digital. This is what was to interest him thereafter.

The entity «animation cinema» will maintain itself for more than twenty years but in an indecisive and weak manner. It will continue - but less and less – to claim a relationship to its glorious past. It sustained itself theoretically – irony of History – with an apologetic rhetoric inherited from André Martin himself but which became more of a repetitive mantra than a real effort to develop a deeper understanding of the history and phenomenon of animation. With the strong return of commercial animation in the 80’s, boosted by the huge programming needs of television, and reshaped by the digital, the appellations “animation film” and “animation cinema” have acquired a meaning that have very little to do with what their inventor meant when he proposed them in the first place. I don’t want to negate the fact that during the last half century, there were numerous very good films, many of them absolutely brilliant, but very few amongst them succeeded to let appear “the idea of animation” such as André Martin had tried to develop it. But, it is possible that nowadays, beyond the digital revolution, a new generation of animators, liberated from the vague conceptual conundrums of the 70’s and the 80’s, might be in the process of reconquering and redifining the mythical territory of animation.

There is a wide gap between «the idea of animation» and the historical animation cinema (that is to say most of the films that were actually produced over those years). The “idea of animation” is based upon the deep material reality of cinema - the frame by frame scroll of images. By the most radical approach of the wider spectrum of possibilities of frame by frame synthesis of time, it bears a force of unity and survival of the cinema through its double cesura. I must mention here that the expression «idea of animation» is not to be found as such in André Martin’s writings. As far as I know, it was introduced almost simultaneously by myself and by Hervé Joubert-Laurencin (Émile Cohl et le virus fantasmagorique, in Émile Cohl, Les Éditions de l’Oeil, Montreuil, 2008). But I find it is a legitimate and defendable claim to derive it from the work of Martin.

This idea shined with its maximum brilliance in the early phase of the multisided invention of cinema. It shined again, but in a more dusk manner, announcing the end of an era, in the 50’s at the moment of the first signs of crumbling of the “classical cinema” in the hands of technical progress in the sphere of social communication. Martin did assess this in the complex alternation of his enthusiasms and his deceptions. Those two glorious moments were also moments of defeat, the first time at the hands of the industrial normalization that came with the development of the large studios, and the second time, at the hands of a new phase of industrial expansion, much wider than the first one, amplified by the global market of television and the gains of productivity that came with the digital technology.

But what I assert and what I want to believe is that, in this whole history, under the surface, the ”idea of animation” preserves all of its potential energy and its ability to spring up at any moment and to “touch to the cinema”, that is to transform the basics of the cinema. “They touched to the cinema…” this is the expression André Martin used to characterize the work and the effects of the work of Norman McLaren and Len Lye. And the cinema was not left unchanged.

This expression of “touching to the cinema” is not far from another expression used by Martin, just once, in his article “Dessin animé et pesanteur”, the “danger of animation”. He was using those words to designate what the animated cartoons animators wanted to avoid confronting, in order to protect their normalized comfort. We may suppose that what he wanted to promote by this expression was the audacity to work without a net, without established rules, on the tight rope of History, with a strong personal bodily involvement, accepting that “the idea of animation” can only appear through the most abrupt and most acute action, and not longer than the time of a flash.

In a flash, the “idea of animation” creates a moment of transparency between the level of representation of the texture of time and space and the deep level of its “frame by frame. technical foundation. This is the contrary of the “genres” system that relies on the opacity of this construction. The “idea of animation” has to do with the creative power of the frame by frame construction of the cinematic flow (animation in the narrow meaning of the word) but is not restricted to it. It is not particularly drawings, photographs, images, sounds or music, it is everything of which it is materially made of at the moment when it “touches the cinema”, it can be anything and everything. It is the contrary of opacity, it does not tolerate that the texture of time and space resorbs itself in mere representation, it does not tolerate mere representation, it is a differential, it requires a transparency of architecture and construction. This is not the magic of animation (or the magic of the cinema, at any rate), it rejects magic, it dissolves the phantasmagoria. It always expresses itself in a concrete specific materiality, but it is not this materiality, it is immaterial which is why we can say it is an «idea».

This is why it can not be identified to a “genre” of cinema. And animation in its actual historical existence has been mostly nothing more than a genre (again this is not a judgment on the actual films), paralyzed by opacity just as musicals, gangster films, horror films… This is why I am not very interested in the “historical animation” as a whole (just as I am not much interested by any “genre”) because generally it does not live up to the height of the idea on which nevertheless it is based. I realize now, and only now can I express it: what interests me, and always had, is the “idea of animation” and its power of illumination. I discover this thanks to the epoch, the epoch of the digital, and also thanks to a rediscovery of the writings of André Martin. Before, I only had a very vague grasp of this.


I started my animation career during the first half of the 60’s in the wake of the explosion of the new animation cinema. I lived in Montreal were one of the focus of modern animation was blooming, the National Film Board of Canada with one of the most illustrious actor of this emergence, Norman McLaren. I had the chance of being supported and encouraged by Norman McLaren and I could meet with Len Lye, although very briefly. I was carried by the wave of euphoria, enthusiasm and optimism triggered by this new age of animation. So I started my career just a few years after the invention of «animation cinema» and I was nourished by the hi-energetic writings of André Martin (and others) that I was reading in the French magazines of cinema. The very same texts that I reread and rediscover today, forty five years later, in a totally different perspective. At the time there was also the whole of the cinema, not only animation, that seemed to renew itself, with the French “Nouvelle vague” and all the new national cinemas, including the new Quebec cinema. Exaltation was at its apex, but as seen from the distance, it now appears that realy it was the beginning of the end of a certain era of cinema.

I knew André Martin between 1965 and 1967 at the National Film Board of Canada when he was directing his two macluhanian films about the emergence of television and also at the Cinémathèque québécoise (“Cinémathèque canadienne” at the time) in the organizing committee of the World Retrospective of Animation of 1967. I then heard directly from his own mouth, with a certain level of fright, his words of deception concerning the course then taken by the new animation cinema that he promoted so strongly, and that he kept «announcing”. When I came for the first time to the world capital of animation, the Annecy festival, my mind was already intoxicated by those bleak judgments. At the festival, I felt compelled to generally agree with André Martin’s hard verdict. For me, the golden age of animation ended before I could become part of it. From that year, I definitely remained in a distant position in regard to the animation cinema and its institutions. A distance that was reciprocal as most of my films did not raise much interest in that world.

With time passing by, I forgot André Martin’s initial and decisive role in my life. In the solitary course that I was about to embrace, I tried to rationalize the gap between my work and the world of animation in many different ways. Among others, I thought that by not adopting a critical standpoint about the status of the animated image in particular and the cinematographic image in general, in short by not assessing the “godardian revolution”, animation remained in a retrograde state, enclosed in the cult of prettiness and good craftsmanship. This judgment, although it is partly true, was certainly unjust toward numerous excellent films that deserved more than being considered as epiphenomenons of a corporatist ghetto. Today, the attentive reading of André Martin’s writings forces me to see things rather differently. I discover that what interests me, what unconsciously always interested me most, is “the idea of animation” more than the animation cinema that actually existed. My “godardian¨ remark was at best superficial.

In all fairness, I must readjust the pantheon of the fundamental influences of my youth. To Norman McLaren and Len Lye (those who, according to Martin, “touched to the cinema”), to the American underground of the 60’s (Stan Brackage, Robert Breer, etc.), to a few European independants (like Robert Lapoujade), I imperatively must add the name of André Martin whose thoughts left in my mind an indelible mark.


Earlier in this text, I have referred to “the idea of animation” as if it was something that occurs suddenly in History like a lightning which disappears at the very moment of its appearance. From the practical point of view of the practice of an art, this is a bit annoying. Are we going to just wait the improbable moment of an intense but fugitive illumination of which the parameters are beyond the action of an individual artist and which you can only notify after the fact? Is there, in the banal course of the ordinary days, a way to take into account “the idea of animation”, to take on in a sustained way the long alternation of its obscure and subterranean life and of its scarce bright appearances? I find a possible answer to those questions in another lexical invention of André Martin, which opens up the possibility of a sustained and viable practice, that is the concept of “instrumental expression”.

It was essentially developed in the course of a text of utmost importance, that Martin wrote about the work of Norman McLaren, which was published in four episodes in the famous French cinema magazine Les Cahiers du cinema, in 1955. From then on, he will keep using the same expression (under different forms: “instrumental strength”, “instrumental cinema”, “instrumental invention”, “instrumental art” etc) but never adding any more precision to what he meant by it. Particularly, as far as I know, he did not comment about how this notion could have find new developments during the genesis of computer animation techniques. But it is possible to claim that the meticulous attentiveness he gave to the appearance and development of the new technology can be understood as a development of his study of the singular relationship of the mclarenian poetic with materials and instrumentation.

In those texts about McLaren, the point was to assess the intimate relationship, in the course of the aesthetic elaboration of the films, between the work on techniques and materials and the widest exploration of the full spectrum of the “frame by frame” principle. This allowed Martin to talk about a reinvention of cinema in every McLaren’s film, or elsewhere, of an exploration of all possible cinemas. But he also took care of making a clear distinction between McLaren’s approach and what he described as “a schizophrenic handiwork based on a galloping technicalness” («un bricolage schizophrénique mené par une technicité galopante»). So technology is not praised in itself but through its clear association to a poetic. Although he introduced the expression in close relationship with Norman McLaren’s cinema, Martin also affirmed that “instrumental expression” had a history of thousand years and he described the work of several other filmmakers (and not only animation filmmakers) as also displaying an “instrumental strength”, thus allowing for a generalization of the concept far beyond the work of Norman McLaren.

I feel very concerned by all this because if there is any lasting filiation between me and Norman McLaren, it is less at the level of the aesthetic style than at the level of the necessity of a theory of technology imbedded in the creative process, that I see at the center of his art. And I hold that André Martin described it correctly with his concept of “instrumental expression”.

In order to try generalize this concept (to make a real concept out of it), I will state that the “instrumental expression” may be said of artistic expression when it sets at the center of its process a historical relationship to technique, instrumentations and materials and aims at a zone of indistinction between the level of technical construction and the level of aesthetic elaboration. The “instrumental expression” also involves a reference to the body of the artist, to the manual activity in front of the apparatuses and the materials. This can be applied to the entire history of art and can embrace an historical spectrum of thousand of years, as suggested by Martin himself. But it is only with the development of modern technology, starting with photography, that the “instrumental expression” finds its deeper relevance. It gains an even stronger significance with cinema and its singular technical/aesthetic history. And it is remarkable that it allows Martin to praise Norman McLaren’s work as a preparation of the mind of spectators to the promises of the technical evolution to come in the future. This is obviously situating the history of cinema not only in terms of stylistic history but also in terms of a radical technological historicity.

This reminds me of the famous Walter Benjamin’s sentence in the Short History of Photography that always was of prime importance to me: “ what judges in definitive of photography is always the photographer’s relationship to its technique.” His thesis about cinema in the essay about The Work of Art at the Era of Technical Reproduction is an extension of this sentence. It is really not possible to depict André Martin as an adept of Benjamin. The conception of history and of utopia that underlies his thinking is at the antipode of Walter Benjamin’s. Amongst other things, Martin’s embracement of Marshal MacLuhan’s theories is significant in this regard. But to the extent that, in both cases, there is a prescription of a thought of technology towards the practice of cinema, it seems correct to me to make this connection.

So in my understanding, the “instrumental expression” would define the possible practice of cinema in the form of a fidelity to “the idea of animation”, as a foundation of the whole of cinema with all its various genre, during all of its different historical phases, as a work in transparency and indistinction of its synchronic and diachronic scission. It would be the appropriate form for the practice of an art under technological condition, taking charge of the transparency between the work on the form and the work on the technology, also taking charge of the historic vector of technological history. Seeing the practice of cinema as “instrumental expression” allows to conceive the unity of cinema beyond the jumps from one technological lineage to the other.

This outlook was impossible as long as cinema remained in its hegemonic phase of “classical cinema” and seemed to be destined to a millenarian existence under this unchanged form. But being under condition of technology, the “classical cinema” could not remained unchanged, and so was also its corollary, animation cinema. The enclosing of the history of the cinema (between its invention by the Lumière brothers and the promise of an unlimited future without any “after”, as expressed by the expression “7th art”) and the characterization of its technical infrastructure as a neutral element in relation to its ability to generate meaning, has become impossible today, now that two technical thresholds have been crossed over. This is a theoretical exploit on the part of André Martin, that, in a single movement, he detected the wavering of “classical cinema” right from the beginning and he understood the deep power of “the idea of animation” as something stronger than anything to be found in the concrete history of animation ( I mean the chronological series of really existing films) and that finally he left for us a few theoretical tools and some indications to possibly follow up on all this.


To fully accede to the cinema, Martin recommended to grasp the strip of film (he called it “the modulation strip”) hands on and to observe the succession of images on the film itself, or also, to watch the dynamic variations of the cone of light that traveled in the theater between the projection booth and the screen With video, such a thing became impossible, there is nothing to be seen on the magnetic tape. Martin correctly understood that, in relation to “the idea of animation”, the analogical video technology (which prevailed from the 60’s to the 90’s) was regressive. It prevented the access to the successive distinct images – or at least it made this technically complicated. These, by their diagonal piling into the opaque magnetic tape, were not visible anymore, neither easily isolable through the electronic analysis of the signal. They were somehow falsely homogenized in the continuous motion of the tape, without the recurrent stops of the strip of film at each photogram as was the case in the “cinema”. This was a false effect of continuity because in reality the in depth structure of visual information still consisted of distinct sweeps for each of the successive images. The images were not processed separately but through the alteration of the electronic signal taken as a whole as if it was continuous. The frame by frame structure became opaque and frame by frame shooting became a sort of technical exploit. “The idea of animation” suffered a real set back.

With the digital technology, it is very different. Although there is not anymore any «modulation strip” to be found, the direct access to the successive images that still constitute the flow of time, becomes possible again under the form of access to distinct digital files. Whether they are operated manually or automatically, all the processes that can be applied to the time flow are fundamentally done frame by frame again. This is what makes possible for the American theoretician of “new media”, Lev Manovitch, to say that in the digital age, live action images have become a particular case of animation. There is certainly some truth in this statement but, to my sense, it is superficial. I disagree with Manovitch in this that he aims at establishing a full specificity of the “new media” in relation to the cinematographic tradition (I must nevertheless recognize the fact that in doing this, he acknowledges the existence of the cinematographic tradition and feels the need to constantly refer to it to make his point, which is far from being often the case in that field) while my objective is the inverse. By relying on “the idea of animation”, I am looking for a unifying ground between the different eras of the cinema, by withholding , in the continuity of Martin’s thinking, that there is only one cinema with the “idea of animation” at its core.

In digital cinema, there is an increasing blur between animated images and live action images. I just mentioned that, at the level of technical processes, everything is done frame by frame. There is also, and it is a consequence of the first point, the fact of the interpenetration between live action images and the wider spectrum of everything that can be produced “frame by frame” (in the traditional sense of the term), and there are also all those other images made with automated processes that can be assimilated to animation (like the motion capture techniques in general). This is exemplified by the routine use of digital special effects in almost all of the blockbuster feature movies. We could almost say that, in its current meaning (which is not what André Martin had in mind), animation cinema does not exist anymore and cannot exist anymore as a distinct entity. This does not mean in no way that there are not anymore films made “frame by frame” – there is still a lot of them – and that there are not animators anymore – there are more than ever before. It is more a conceptual question. It means that the overall technical frame of reference, in which all the different practices interrelate, has been totally recalibrated and that the respective positioning of live action and animation has radically change and that the traditional boundaries have become more and more irrelevant.

If it is true to say that, in the digital age, the “frame by frame” processes have become more and more the operative center of the whole cinematographic structure, it would be exaggerated to pretend, particularly in the case of live action cinema, that every thing has become legible solely at the level of the succession of frames, and that animation, in the classical sense, has become the center of cinema. I don’t think this is what Martin meant with his idea of a “modulation strip”. It would be more precise to say that the “frame by frame” principle is the vantage point in the general landscape of cinema, this is what put its mark on the ensemble of the technical apparatuses of the practice of cinema under its different forms and eras. This is how “the idea of animation” operates, its mark is everywhere, in all the phases of the technical process. Thus, it is not necessary to refer narrowly at the strict fact of “frame by frame” construction, to establish the centrality of “the idea of animation” and of the “instrumental expression”. It is the digital age that makes it possible to understand this. Later, I will come back on the ambivalent effect of the digital. As much as it helps make this conceptual disposition clear, simultaneously it obscures it. For now, we will examine how animation and live action have both been altered, each in its own way.

On the side of animation, the strict frame by frame practice it is now contaminated by the automation of numerous processes or by totally new processes of alteration or of synthesis of the images. The frame by frame principle, at the level of its effective concrete practice cannot anymore be made singular and be used as the foundation of a distinct and autonomous form of cinema as it has been proclaimed by animation festivals since half a century. The "animation cinema" category was only possible as a relatively distinct and autonomous entity in the constellation of "classical cinema". Beyond this point, it loses its consistency and if one tries to maintain it, this is against the new conditions of its practice. From now on we must accept that animation function in a multifaceted and unlimited space, which is rather good.

In the case of "live-action cinema", the situation is not simpler. Beyond the increasing infiltration of animated images, synthesized or manipulated through different automated processes, there is a much deeper mutation. The fact is that due to the possibility of undetectable manipulations, the still or moving photographic image is losing its indexical credibility. But it is not enough to simply say that, before the digital age, the indexical photographic image (that is to say the image that maintains a relationship of material imprint with reality) was a faithful and credible reflection of reality, and that after it is not anymore. We should rather say that before the digital age, the photographic image was reputedly realist, and that after it loses this reputation in an accelerated way. From now on, any photographic image is under the suspicion of having been manipulated. It suffers from the competition of algorithmic simulations of reality, which, from a scientific point of view, may sometime claim a higher degree of truth. There are also new types of imageries, which, although they originated in the direct capture of reality with new kinds of apparatuses, produce a non-photographic visual rendering (at one extreme there is the medical imagery and at the other extreme there are the different motion capture systems).

The question of the realism of the photographic image has exploded in many directions and if there is suspicion about photographic realism, this does not mean that the debate about the condition of realism of images is closed.

At any rate, the alleged realism of the pre-digital triumphant photographic image was not above any discussion. Inasmuch the direct material indexical relationship between the real object and its photographic image seemed unquestionable, other aspects where put into question: on the one hand, there is the very filter of the necessary technical apparatus and the diverse inherent technical decisions, and, on the other hand, the space and time decisions made by the photographer (where to stand? When? What framing? When press the capture button? What setting? etc.). Between the "ontological realism" of the bazinian tradition and the radical criticism of the entire series of mediations that lead to an image of reality, there were not many people to seriously believe in the total transparency of the photographic image. Most agreed, at varying degrees, to say that the photographic image of reality could only be a construction, constantly subject to discussion and contestation. Nevertheless, it remains that it is a consequence of the emergence of the digital that the unquestionable material relationship between a portion of reality and its image does not exist anymore in an autonomous way framed by a relatively stable technical apparatus. Its era of innocence has ended.

As a consequence, the action of withholding images from reality is now done in the totally redefined context where the values of realism and truth set themselves very differently. From now on we can affirm that the paths to the construction of an image of reality go through much less favorable ideological territories, are much more difficult and cannot count anymore on the traditional capital of sympathy and credibility of the photographic image. The image construction work is now facing much more acute exigencies as to how to shoot and out to edit. For me, the entire work of Johan van der Keuken that deployed itself in the era of progressive crumbling of the "classical cinema”, is an anticipated answer, a forerunner sign (in as much as the work of Norman McLaren, according to Martin) of those new conditions and certainly an imminent example of instrumental expression.

Here, there is something highly personal at stake because, beyond the initial tutelary influences mentioned before, the work of Johan van der Keuken remains, at the time of my maturity, my main cinematographic influence, more than the influence of any animation filmmaker. At the time, I could not completely understand why he gained such an importance for me, he who did not like animation cinema very much. Now all those developments about instrumental expression help me understand. I will come back to this a bit later. At any rate, his acute conscience of the paradoxical destiny of cinema never made no doubt for me. One day, he told me (I quote from memory) "we know that cinema is in the process of disappearing, but we want to continue", which contains implicitly the fundamental injunction, that I share (and I thank him for including me in this "we"), to be determined to continue cinema beyond the cinema.

All those considerations about live-action cinema first concerned documentary cinema rather than fiction cinema that, from the start, is totally a construction. Thus, it is not a surprise if it let itself be penetrated without resistance by the wave of digital special effects. Nevertheless it is quite troubling that the discussion about ontological realism (including a quite radical rejection of animation cinema) by a certain bazinian critical tradition have rather developed around the fiction cinema where there is nothing much directly real except the flesh of the actors (this goes without mentioning aesthetic surgery!). The debates about the interpenetration between documentary and fiction and, to a lesser degree, between fiction and animation, are also quite symptomatic of the current years.

In January 2009, I gave in Brussels, for l’atelier Graphoui, a week long workshop on the theme "animation and documentary" and, in November 2008, I took part to a workshop on the same subject at the Rencontre internationale du documentaire de Montréal. This question comes up regularly. The expression "animated documentary" was used quite a bit, some years ago, in relation to Chris Landreth’s film “Ryan” and this now happens again at the much larger scale with the film "Waltz with Bashir". In this later case, the use of this expression "animated documentary" is part of marketing strategies, and from this point of view, it may be quite superficial. However, we may believe that it has the value of being a symptom of the growing tendency in the digital era towards blurred boundaries between the genres inherited from the"classical cinema". It is particularly remarkable that animation, which up to now was seen mostly as an art of phantasmagoria, affirms its legitimacy in addressing directly the reality.

What is even more interesting for our subject is the fact that for many animation films that claim a direct relationship to reality, the need situate themselves in relation to live-action shooting seems inevitable. My own work is totally characterized by this highly paradoxical tension. In effect it is quite surprising that at the moment when live action images are losing their innocence and their realistic credibility, precisely because of processes that have a lot to do with the increasing importance of animation, the animation films that are aiming at reality so often feel such a strong need to situate themselves in relation to live-action images and also to include directly or indirectly some of those images.

If it was only a will to co-opt within animation the professed realism of live-action images, this would be of limited interest. But it is possible to see those practices from a totally different angle - and this is how I try to understand my own efforts in this direction. It can be seen as a way to create the conditions for the emergence of the "idea of animation" in complexes of space and time jointly supported by animated and the live-action images. This conjunction creates an opportunity of emergence for the “idea of animation” and the possibility of a critical transparency in the representational opacities on the two sides and renders the technical infrastructure ostensible, thus creating a field of instrumental expression.

As far as I am concerned, my first efforts were mostly aimed at shaking up the phantasmagorical bubble of animation by the juxtaposition of live-action images that nonetheless remained untouched by any critical bias. A long road was needed to achieve, like in the case of La Plante humaine, the same level of doubt and suspicion towards live action and animated images. Of course this is not the only way to approach those questions, but today, at the occasion of this reflection, I understand better the path that I have been intuitively following. It is only now that I succeed to formulate it in an historical way and to grasp its consequences.

Finally, except for its provocation value towards the phantasmagorical tradition of animation, I don’t think that the expression "animated documentaries" does carry much usefulness at a fundamental level. By stressing the question of a direct relationship between animation and reality, which would allow animation to act as if it was documentary, there is the risk to occult a much deeper relationship that animation may have with reality. What of which it is the reality.


In the stride of what I developed earlier, I now affirm: (1) that animation is the reality of the deep frame by frame technical structure of cinema, and (2) following the same idea, that animation is the constantly renewed reality of the invention of cinema, a kind of permanent origin of cinema, constantly updated. But if I want to make those two affirmations effective, I also need to affirm that animation is the reality of the action of a body (the body of the animator) at grip with the frame by frame technical apparatus of cinema.

This last statement is fundamental because, first, since it existed and now more than ever, the apparatus of cinema determines the occultation of the body at the advantage of an abstract and opaque representational form. The opacity towards the body is the same as the opacity towards the technological depth. It has the same implications. And secondly, it is the destiny of an ever-growing part of humanity to live more and more in an opaque and abstract vicinity with machines. And animation, through its special dramaturgy inherited from the tradition of puppet theater, based precisely on the playful dissimulation of the body (I have written around those questions in my text Égarement volontaire, Corps langages, technologie, Les 400 coups, 2005) positions itself at the sharpest point of this question of the body in the cinema and of the body in the technology.

The digression about the realism of the live-action shooting, about the relationship between animation and documentary, and in a more general way, about the relation between cinema and reality (it's the whole question of the truth of cinema), was first aimed at underlining the change of regime brought about by the digital in the always complex, never unilateral, relationships between those different poles: reality, direct shooting and animation. The transparency of cinema towards the reality, just like the transparency of cinema towards its own technical infrastructure, is never a given, it is always reached at and constructed through a deliberate action into the infinitely open flow of History. An uncontrolled action, endless, that can only base itself on an utopia, as André Martin had seen it, or a messianism as Walter Benjamin would have rather said.

In this changing construction that is cinema, live-action shooting occupies the pole of "the cinema in the world", and animation, in the wider meaning of the word, occupies the pole of "construction". Both are indispensable one to the other. By tradition, live action shooting is social, emerges in the relationships with “the others", but is threatened to remain confined in pure representation. Animation is a solitary activity, a simple confrontation with machines. The risk here is to remain enclosed in the lightness of an imaginary world, cut away from the real world. The fact of putting into play the physical relationships between the filmmaker and the cinematographic basis of its expression, in the form of a traversal of the domain of machines, is the only way to open up the enclosures. In this, animation cinema is facing the biggest danger because it holds in its hands the deepest might (the power of "touching to the cinema" as Martin was saying). If on the one hand, the live-action filmmaker is threatened to remain on the surface, beyond the zone of the machines, on the contrary, the animation filmmaker, if he accepts the instrumental challenge, runs the contrary risk to remain beneath, imprisoned in the underground machine room. But more than any other, he holds the power to shake up the zone of the machines, to touch to the cinema and not simply to use it. Maybe this is the "danger of animation" to which André Martin was referring in 1952, this initiative traversal of the world of machines, this road that goes directly from the hand of the animator to the mind of the spectator, if once again I may refer to a formulation that André Martin used in relation to Norman McLaren.

Here lies precisely the importance that Johan van der Keuken has for me. Actually, he once wrote that, for the viewer, watching his films was like traveling inside his brain. In all of his works, through a constantly affirmed physicality, he always succeeded to unite in one motion a complete presence to the world and the meaningful traversal of the technical conditions of his work. So simultaneously he is totally a filmmaker in the world and a filmmaker in the construction process thanks to a full acceptance of the corporeal risk. This can be seen very eloquently in the way he shoots, by its way of being physically present at the same time and with the same acuteness to his subject and to his camera, and above all to make this obvious, to give to this presence to the tool and to the world a character of eloquent inevitability for the spectators who then cannot avoid to resent one and the other. So he proposes a cinema that simultaneously is totally mental and totally physical with a full transparency between the two, based on meticulous materialism. A body of work without illusionism where the material data in play are always fully detectable as much at the level of “life” as at the level of “technique”.

I met him in 1974, precisely at the moment where, after my film “Santa Claus is coming to town”, I started to wish that my work of animation became more physical. I though that it was important to do that, but I did not understand precisely why I should. I saw all of his films in a retrospective at the Cinemathèque québécoise. I did not understand yet why what I was seeing seemed so important to me, but I was totally aware of the fact that it was something that was giving me courage. Later on, I continued to see all his movies right to the very last one just before he passed away. I began to understand my own work at the same pace I was understanding his. This is how I became conscious of the words of Norman McLaren and Len Lye (the "muscular memory" and the "animation as a dance") that I have constantly been quoting since then. In 1982, after seeing my film “Memories of war”, he told me: “Your work takes too much time, you dig your grave at every film”. This was hard but from then on, thanks to him, speed became a main concern for me and, consequently, physicality. In 1996, he wrote about me: “Out of his painful craft of animation, of this sufferance of the “frame by frame”, he emerged as the men of speed, “the flying animist” (…) SPEED, that’s him”. The loop was complete. His cinematographic friendship convinced me (way before I read it in André Martin’s writings) that there is only “one” cinema and that the questions are identical on both sides. It was deeply necessary for me to write this short commentary about Johan because in my personal mythology, the domain of the expressive body and of the instrumental expression lies in between Norman McLaren, and Johan van der Keuken. There lies the challenge of the generalization of this concept of instrumental expression, between McLaren and Van der Keuken, mediatized by André Martin, the three heroes of this story.


The digital era presents itself in a very paradoxical manner. In a way, we can say that everything became "frame by frame". Can we then talk of a kind of final victory for the "idea of animation"? But we are far from that. It is certainly not the triumph of the "idea of animation" as developed here after the writings of André Martin. We will never know what Martin would have thought of the evolution of digital cinema and of digital animation. He nourished great expectations from this new phase in the evolution of cinema but he could only monitor it during its formative years. It is only after his death that this new age of cinema stabilized and only then was it possible to consider where all this had led in reality. Be it through the generalization of digital special effects, or through different forms of simulation, or through the proliferation of 3-D animation features, or through the explosion of the whole computer games sector, or through the more and more common use of motion capture devices for instant production of animated TV programs, globally, digital cinema presents itself in the form of a generalized immersion in a vast and totalitarian phantasmagoria where any kind of technological transparency has been removed. The gap between the figurative sphere and its technical apparatuses is more opaque than ever. And even more opaque is the occultation of the bodies.

It could have been the absolute epoch of "instrumental expression". It's probably what André Martin dreamt of. Isn't it an epoch were technical inventiveness can deploy itself with total freedom, without the inertia and the rigidities that characterized the mechanical era of "classical cinema"? But instrumental expression means far more than the spectacular display of technological prowesses. What we witness nowadays is a very deep opacity. In his time, André Martin had opposed the mclarenian "instrumental expression" and what he described as the "schizophrenic puttering about led by a galloping technicalness". A good part of the digital arts is just that. Most of the time, a poetic of materials and techniques that is the center of the work of Norman McLaren, is missing.

I started to present live animation performances in 1986. At that time, I was doing it by live scratching on a 16mm black leader loop of film while it was running in the projector. I had several motivations to do those presentations that totally contradicted the normal ways of doing animation (the protracted studio work, the endless perfecting, the patience). I was looking for speed, for a direct contact with the public away from the misunderstandings inherent to the genre of animation, for a renewed contact with musicians, and also for a kind of training to become capable of animating a feature just by myself (speed! again), etc.

But the deepest motivation was elsewhere. It rather included all of those specific objectives in a wider, more inclusive, project which was to set side by side, in clear view, in front of the spectators all the different components of cinema: the screen, the projector, the strip of 16mm film, the light table, the engraving tools, the frame by frame work, and the body of the animator (my own body) doing all this, engaged in a frenetic activity in order to proceed at the same speed as the projector. Today, I would say that I was trying through an extreme form of instrumental expression to project a purified image of the “idea of animation”. In those performances, the displaying, with full transparency, of the apparatus and of the process was as important as the result of the work, which was the short 40 sec. looped film that was completed after more or less one hour of this unleashed activity. The fact that this was done with the technique of direct animation on film was an important element. On the one hand, in the 80’s, it obviously was the only possible way to do live animation performances. But, on the other hand, at the time I was seeing the technique of scratching directly on film as the most extreme and the most radical point of cinema and animation because it was threatening the coherence and the continuity of the filmic flow, and even more when it is practiced in this frantic way.

I was convinced that I would continue indefinitely to do those live scratched animation performances. I was imagining that, even after the extinction of the different technical components of the "classical cinema" (film, laboratories, projectors and the mechanical cameras), it would still be meaningful to continue doing it with the archaeological remnants of cinema. I even stockpiled lots of black leader in case it would eventually become unavailable on the market. But the acceleration of the upcoming of the digital decided otherwise. I realized that the critical strength that I was aiming to liberate by this activity only found its consistence from being in a state of tension with the dominant form of cinema. The tipping point was reached at the end of the 90s, and, as a consequence, I easily accepted Bob Ostertag's proposition to write for me a software for live processing of images. It seemed to me, that at that point, if there was something that needed to be profaned, desopacified, submitted to the judgment of transparency, it was not the rundown "classical cinema", but rather the new triumphant digital technology. So I replaced my old live scratching apparatus by a new system, based on a similar principle, where the tools, the matters, the process, my body, my hands drawing at full speed, the camera, the computer, and the projected images are set on the stage, side-by-side, in clear view as much as possible, in front of the spectators.

In this context, the references to the "idea of animation" and to the "instrumental expression" are gaining a much more acute meaning. In fact, everything that is written here came from the intersection between this new way of doing my performances and the thought of André Martin (encountered by chance, thanks to a back ache that forced me to sit in an armchair for months just being able to read). This is a system of thought that developed out of my new performance practice, and that in the same time clarifies my previous work.

In 1986, when I first started to do those live animation performances, it was a totally singular activity that was unrelated to any artistic current that I knew of. It's necessity came strictly from questions that I was personally raising in relation to animation. My technical apparatus was totally personal. Today the situation is totally different. The fast development of more and more powerful portable computers and the apparition of various specialized software's favored the blooming of a vast and diverse movement of "live cinema" that I saw emerging around my lonely practice. The presentations of the vj’s are the most visible part of this. In a certain way, whether I like it or not, I am a vj and I am part of this movement. I use a software written with the well known graphic based programming language Max/Jitter which was precisely developed for the live presentation of music and video. This programming language is now thought in new media departments of many universities and is quite commonly used. Consequently my work and my apparatus are part of a much more normalized environment then it was the case with live scratched animation. In this regard, I must admit that my current system is much less radical than before. And I must also admit that it is with a certain smile that I realize, at 65, that suddenly I am part of this scene where most of the actors are less than half of my age. But, beyond that vanity, isn't it true that my work could become trivialized and that all the objectives that I explain here could turned out to just be rhetoric.

It is clear that when I left the National Film Board of Canada in 1999, I had clearly decided to situate myself in the new digital paradigm and to run the risk of working from the inside of it. So it is to me to sustain the challenge. But I think that there still is in my work something singular and radical that distinguishes it from the current that surrounds it. It comes from the fact that my performances, centrally, are still live demonstration of frame by frame work and that the software itself has been conceived around the processing of the succession of discrete images and does not make much use of most of the fancy image processing available in Jitter. The focal point of my work is situated precisely at the level of the interface and the interaction between the live manual creation of successive images and the digital processing of those images in terms of modification of order and speed, of their segmentation in series of distinct loops, and of live composition of those loops. The fact that everything is accomplished from series of images drawn during the performance, maintains at the center of the process the bodily dimension and the imperative of speed which were so important in live scratched animation. All the aspects that I develop in this text are always in action in my performances so that I still can see them as an exercise of fidelity to the "idea of animation" and as a practice of "instrumental expression", held together by a radical physicality.


It is not by accident if earlier on I used the word "profaned". It comes from the short book by an Italian philosopher, Giorgio Agamben, “What is a device?" (“Qu’est ce qu’un dispositif?” Édition de Payot et Rivages. Paris, 2007, for the French edition). Confronting the example of the cell phone to philosophical considerations taken amongst others from Foucault and Hegel and from the study of the division between the sacred and the profane in Roman law, he proposes a reflection on «devices» (dispositifs). He calls "devices": "everything that has in a way or in an other the capacity to capture, orientate, determine, intercept, model, control and ensure the gestures, the ways of acting, the opinions and the discourses of human beings". The "devices" of course include (but not only) all the modern technology including cell phones and computers. He continues: "What defines the devices that we have to deal with in the current phase of capitalism is that they are not acting anymore through the production of a subject, but rather through processes that we can define as processes of desubjectivation." And today, "the processes of subjectivation and of desubjectivation seem to have become indifferent and don't allow any more the recomposition of a new subject, or only in a latent and spectral form".

It is exactly what happens with the smooth opacity that characterizes the dominant course of digital cinema but that was already present, at a lesser degree, in previous phases of the history of the cinema. "The strategy that we must adopt in our fist fight with devices..." would consist "... in liberating what have been seized and separated by the devices to give it back to common use" that is to say “profaning” the devices. In Roman law, the profanation is the reverse action of sacralization that consists in taking away things from the free use to keep them in reserve for the sacred sphere. And he concludes: "The problem of the profanation of devices (that is to say the return to common use of what was taken away and separated) is extremely urgent. And this problem will never be posed correctly as long as those who will take up this task will not be able to intervene at the same time on the processes of subjectivation and on the devices in order to bring to light this Unmanageable element that is, at the same time, the point of origin and the vantage point of all politic".

This brief exposé of Agamben’s thought is certainly a bit simplified, but this prescription of profanation struck me as a good way to define what has to be done in the era of digital cinema. In fact, the word "profanation", that as the interest of aiming simultaneously at the technology as such and at the whole of the social and political context in which it deploys itself, synthesizes quite precisely what I always wanted to do in order to “touch to the cinema". 50 years ago, when I started to engrave directly on film, I knew very well that it was a profanation of cinema (literally, it was scratching the film). Only the word was missing. Today, I don't hesitate to affirm, this time using the word, that more than ever it is an exercise of profanation. In this way, I am totally in the current of "live cinema", and simultaneously I am totally outside.

Tuesday 13 April 2010

Productions at the National Film Board of Canada

Catuor, 3 min. 53 sec., directed by Judith Klein. (1970) ; Les bébites de chromagon, 8 min. 24 sec., directed by Francine Desbiens. (1971) ; Cycle, 5 min. 4 sec., directed by Suzanne Gervais. (1971) ; Des ensembles, 3 min. 23 sec., directed by Suzanne Olivier.(1971) ; À l'ombre - Under the weather, 7 min., 35mm, directed by Tali Prévost.(1997) ; Le Phare - The Lighthouse, 8 min. 30 sec., directed by Pierre Veilleux. (1997) ; Le Seuil – The Treshold, 8 minutes, directed by Suzanne Gervais (1998) ; Mon enfant ma terre, 4 min. 13 sec., directed by Francine Desbiens (1998) ; L’Arbre mort, 12 min., directed by Vincent Gauthier (1999) ; Le chapeau, directed by Michele Cournoyer (1999) ; 1974, directed by Paula MacDougal (2000) ; Joséphine, directed by Anne-Marie Sirois (2000) ; Clandestin, directed by Abi Feijo (2000) ; Âme noire, directed by Martine Chartrand (2001) ; La Solitude de Monsieur Turgeon, directed by Jeanne Crépeau (2001) ; Chasse papillon, directed by Philippe Vaucher (2001) ; La Pirouette, directed by Tali (2002).

Other film works

Album "Six" by Claire Pelletier TV commercial. Avril 2010. See the VIDEO.

  • Petite improvisation en hommage à Émile Cohl (Short improvisation in homage to Émile Cohl), 4 minutes clip included in the exhibition L'Esprit d'Émile Cohl, June 1 to October 31 2008 at the Musée-Chateau, Annecy, France. See the VIDEO.
  • Toi la mordore, animation for a music video of Chloé Ste-Marie, directed by Guy Édouin, 2006. See the VIDEO.
  • Signal film pour the 50th anniversary of the Montreal Art council , 30 sec. Video et 35mm, 2006.
  • Visita au Porto sob a chuva (Visit to Porto under the rain) 1min.30sec, original engraved film done as an Homage to Filmografo au Rivoli Theater Rivoli, Ocober 23, 1997, in Porto.
  • Signal film for the tenth Rendez-vous du Cinéma québécois, 30 sec., 35mm, NFB, 1992.
  • Signal film for À la recherche de l'homme invisible (Looking for the Invisible man), 40 sec. coproduced by the NFB, Aquila films and TV Ontario, 1991.
  • Opening sequence of Portrait d'un studio d'animation, 30 sec. NFB, 1991.
  • Don Quichotte, 30 sec., 35 mm, signal film for Ottawa 90 - International Festival of animation, 1990.
  • Cité-FM, 30 sec. video, TV commercial, Tam tam, La fabrique d'images, 1990.
  • 3 pommes à coté du sommeil, animated sequences in Jacques Leduc's feature, NFB, 1989.
  • Portion d'éternité, special effects for Robert Favreau's feature, NFB, 1989.
  • Charade chinoise, animated segments for Jacques Leduc's feature, NFB, 1987.
  • O Picasso, animated segments for Gilles Carle' film, production ACPAV/NFB, 1985.
  • Passiflora, drawings for Fernand Bélanger's et Dagmar Gueissaz's documentary feature, NFB 1985.
  • L'émotion dissonante, animated segments for Fernand Bélanger's documentary feature, NFB, 1984.
  • Beyrouth, à défaut d'être mort, drawings for Tahani Rashed's documentary, NFB, 1983.
  • Pense à ton désir, special effects for Diane Poitras's video, with Sylvie Roche, production du Contre-jour, 1983.
  • La stratégie américaine, animated segments for Yvan Patry's documentary, production AlterCiné, 1982.
  • Les contes de la mère loi sur le cinéma, sequence engraved on film in a collective film, 1975.
  • Je chante à cheval, animated segments in Lucien Ménard's, Jacques Leduc's et Pierre Bernier's documentary, NFB, 1972.
  • L'homme multiplié, titles for Georges Dufaux's et Claude Godbout's short, NFB, 1969.
  • Jusqu'au coeur, ltitles for Jean Pierre Lefebvre's feature, NFB, 1968.
  • Le jeu des propositions, directed by Michel Moreau, animation, 8 mm, NFB, 1966.
  • Mon œil, assitant director on Jean-Pierre Lefebvre's feature, Cinak, 1966.
  • Comment savoir? animated segments in Claude Jutra's documentary, NFB, 1966.
  • Changement d'adresse, commercial for l'Hydro-Québec, 1965.
  • Postez tôt pour Noël, commercial for the Post Office, 20 sec, NFB, 1965. Lost.
  • Le Révolutionnaire, animated segment on Jean-Pierre Lefebvre's feature, Cinak, 1965.

Autres travaux cinématographiques

  • Album "Six" de Claire Pelletier, message publicitaire, Avril 2010. Vicionnez la VIDEO.
  • Petite improvisation en hommage à Émile Cohl, clip de 4 minutes dans l'exposition L'Esprit d'Émile Cohl, Ier juin au 31 octobre 2008 au Musée-Chateau, Annecy, France. Visionnez la VIDÉO.
  • Toi la mordore, animation pour un vidéoclip de Chloé Ste-Marie, réalisé par Guy Édouin, 2006. Visionnez la VIDÉO.
  • Bande annonce pour le 50ième anniversaire du Conseil des arts de Montréal, 30 sec. Vidéo et 35mm, 2006.
  • Visita au Porto sob a chuva (Visite à Porto sous la pluie) 1min.30sec, original gravé muet à l'occasion de l'Hommage à Filmografo au Théatre Rivoli, le 23 oct. 1997, à Porto.
  • Bande annonce des dixième Rendez-vous du Cinéma québécois, 30 sec., 35mm, ONF, 1992.
  • À la recherche de l'homme invisible - ouverture, 40 sec. sé-quence d'ouverture avec animation et effets spéciaux pour une série d'émissions de télévision produite en coproduction entre l'ONF, Aquila films et TV Ontario, 1991.
  • Portrait d'un studio d'animation, séquence d'ouverture de 30 sec. avec animation et effets spéciaux d'une émission de télévision sur le 25ième anniversaire du studio français d'animation de l'ONF, 1991.
  • Don Quichotte, 30 sec., 35 mm, film-logo pour le Ottawa 90 - Festival international de l'animation, 1990.
  • Cité-FM, 30 sec. vidéo, message publicitaire réalisé pour le compte de l'agence Tam tam, production La fabrique d'images, 1990.
  • 3 pommes à coté du sommeil, long métrage de Jacques Leduc, inser-tion animée, 1989.
  • Portion d'éternité, long métrage de Robert Favreau, effets spéciaux, 1989.
  • Charade chinoise, long métrage documentaire de Jacques Leduc, insertions animées, 1987.
  • O Picasso, long métrage documentaire de Gilles Carle, séquences animées, production ACPAV/ONF, 1985.
  • Passiflora, long métrage documentaire de Fernand Bélanger et Dagmar Gueissaz, dessins, 1985.
  • L'émotion dissonante, long métrage documentaire de Fernand Bélanger, interventions animées, 1984.
  • Beyrouth, à défaut d'être mort, long métrage documentaire de Tahani Rashed, dessins, 1983.
  • Pense à ton désir, vidéogramme de Diane Poitras, avec Sylvie Roche, effets spéciaux, production du Contre-jour, 1983.
  • La stratégie américaine, vidéogramme d'Yvan Patry, séquence animée, production AlterCiné, 1982.
  • Les contes de la mère loi sur le cinéma, film collectif, séquence gravée sur pellicule, 1975.
  • Je chante à cheval, film documentaire de Lucien Ménard, Jacques Leduc et Pierre Bernier, séquences animées, 1972.
  • L'homme multiplié, court métrage documentaire de Georges Dufaux et Claude Godbout, générique, 1969.
  • Jusqu'au coeur, long métrage de Jean Pierre Lefebvre, générique, 1968.
  • Le jeu des propositions, réalisé par Michel Moreau, animation d'une série de films éducatif en 8 mm, 1966.
  • Mon œil, long métrage de Jean-Pierre Lefebvre, assistant-réalisa-teur, production Cinak, 1966.
  • Comment savoir? film documentaire de Claude Jutra, séquences animées, 1966.
  • Changement d'adresse, message publicitaire pour l'Hydro-Québec, 1965.
  • Postez tôt pour Noël, message publicitaire pour le ministère des Postes, 20 sec, 1965.
  • Le Révolutionnaire, long métrage de Jean-Pierre Lefebvre, séquence animée, production Cinak, 1965.

Productions à l'ONF

Catuor, 3 min. 53 sec., réalisé par Judith Klein. (1970) ; Les bébites de chromagon, 8 min. 24 sec., réalisé par Francine Desbiens. (1971) ; Cycle, 5 min. 4 sec., réalisé par Suzanne Gervais. (1971) ; Des ensembles, 3 min. 23 sec., réalisé par Suzanne Olivier.(1971) ; À l'ombre - Under the weather, 7 minutes, 35mm, réalisé par Tali Prévost.(1997) ; Le Phare - The Lighthouse, 8 minutes 30 secondes, réalisé par Pierre Veilleux. (1997) ; Le Seuil – The Treshold, 8 minutes, réalisé par Suzanne Gervais (1998) ; Mon enfant ma terre, 4 minutes 13 secondes, réalisé par Francine Desbiens (1998) ; L’Arbre mort, 12 minutes, réalisé par Vincent Gauthier (1999) ; Le chapeau, réalisé par Michele Cournoyer (1999) ; 1974, réalisé par Paula MacDougal (2000) ; Joséphine, réalisé par Anne-Marie Sirois (2000) ; Clandestin, réalisé par Abi Feijo (2000) ; Âme noire, réalisé par Martine Chartrand (2001) ; La Solitude de Monsieur Turgeon, réalisé par Jeanne Crépeau (2001) ; Chasse papillon, réalisé par Philippe Vaucher (2001) ; La Pirouette, réalisé par Tali (2002).

Monday 12 April 2010

L'installation vidéo «Seule la main...»

Seule la main… Installation vidéo de Pierre Hébert

Une célébration de la multiplicité des langues et de la possibilité de la traduction.

Visionnez les vidéos de L'INSTALLATION et des PERFORMANCES «SEULE LA MAIN...».

visitez la GALERIE.

L'installation

À ce jour, l'installation a été présentée une fois, à la salle d'exposition Norman McLaren de la Cinémathèque québécoise à Montréal, du 3 au 21 décembre 2009. Il s'agissait de la projection simultanée de douze versions, en douze langues différentes, de la performance «Seule la main…» qui consiste en animation en direct de la phrase : « seule la main qui efface peut écrire la vérité » (plus de détails à ce sujet ci-dessous). Les langues étaient : l'anglais, le français, l'italien, le néerlandais, le yiddish, le portugais, le lakota, le paiute, le romanesco, le romagnolo, l’ojibway, et l’innu. Il y avait quatre écrans placés côte à côte sur trois murs de l'espace d'exposition. Les différentes versions étaient disposées de gauche à droite selon l’ordre chronologique des performances, de sorte qu'au-delà de la multiplicité des langues, étaient mises en évidence l'évolution de la façon d'animer le texte ainsi que les voyages que j'ai dû faire pour présenter les performances dans les pays où les différentes langues étaient parlées. L’ensemble de cette circulation à travers le monde constitue, en quelque sorte, une performance géographique globale. Ainsi, les dates, lieux, et langues sont identifiés sous chacun des écrans. L'installation se présente comme une longue boucle qui se répéte toutes les 35 minutes. Elle est accompagnée d'une musique de Stefan Smulovitz.

J'ai été très heureux de la façon dont l'installation a été montée à la Cinémathèque québécoise, dans une seule grande salle (approximativement 12 m de large, 24 m de profond et 6 m de haut), mais je vois que la distribution spatiale des différents écrans, le nombre d'écrans (il pourrait y avoir plus que douze écrans, mais pas moins que 6), et le choix des langues pourraient varier à mesure que le projet se développera et selon les charactéristiques des espaces où elle sera présentée. Tous ces asepcts devront être réévalués à chaque fois.

Il serait naturel d’accompagner l’installation de la présentation d’une nouvelle performance «Seule la main…» dans une langue parlée localement, qui pourrait alors être incluse dans l’installation. Si cela est souhaité, il y a également la possibilité d’autres performances (particulièrement la performance «Living cinema» avec mon collègue musicien Bob Ostertag, http://pierrehebert.com/index.php/2008/03/26/47-living-cinema). En complément de l’installation, il pourrait également y avoir la présentation d’une programmation de mes films, ainsi que d’une conference sur les liens entre mes pratiques de cinema, de performance et d’installation.

Fiche technique.

À la cinémathèque québécoise, j’ai incrusté deux versions de la performance sur chaque DVD, en conséquence, seulement six projecteurs vidéo étaient nécessaires (deux projecteurs dirigés vers chacun des trois murs) ainsi que six lecteurs DVD. Les lecteurs DVD devaient être synchronisés d’une certaine façon. Pour être plus précis, chaque fois que l’installation recommençait, un nouveau cycle (plus ou moins toutes les 36 minutes), les six lecteurs DVD devaient s’engager dans le nouveau cycle, simultanément. Il n’y a pas nécessité de synchronisation dans le cours du cycle – sur une durée de 36 minutes, les écarts entre les différents lecteurs ne posent pas problème. Mais si de petits écarts s’accumulent sur une pleine journée, alors cela devient problématique. Il doit être possible d’accrocher les six projecteurs au plafond. Des câbles sont nécessaires pour relier les lecteurs aux projecteurs. La luminosité des différents projecteurs devrait être la même, mais l’ajustement entre les différentes images n’est que modérément critique, étant donné que les diverses sources ont été créées dans des conditions parfois très différentes, et que ces différences sont inhérentes à l’oeuvre. À Montréal, nous avons utilisé des projecteurs de 3000 lumens, mais la salle était grande ainsi que les surfaces de projection.

Il y a d’autres options techniques que les lecteurs DVD synchronisés que nous avons utilisés à Montréal. Je suis présentement en train d’examiner la possibilité de jouer les différentes pistes à partir de lecteurs média utilisant des cartes mémoire SD, qui donneraient une meilleure image (incluant la possibilité du format HD si de tels projecteurs sont disponibles) et qui rendrait l’ensemble de l’installation beaucoup plus fiable. Si ceci se confirme comme une solution valable, j’envisagerais la possibilité d’acquérir les lecteurs média nécessaire de sorte que l’institution d’accueil n’ait à fournir que les projecteurs vidéo.

Il n’est pas nécessaire d’installer de véritables écrans, il est préférable de projeter sur des murs blancs. La dimension et la hauteur des images dependent de la configuration de l’espace. Les images adjacentes doivent s’ajuster avec précision de sorte que leurs côtés adjacents se touchent. Un système de son stéréo est nécessaire pour diffuser la musique qui est lue à partir d’un des lecteurs. La salle doit rester sombre avec seulement un peu de lumière dans la zone centrale, de sorte que les visiteurs puissent s’orienter quand les projections deviennent totalement noires.

__Visionnez la vidéo: (http://pierrehebert.com/index.php/2010/02/24/166-instllation-seule-la-main), et visitez la (http://pierrehebert.com/index.php/gallery/General/installation-seule-la-main#gallery). __

Histoire du projet : la performance «Seule la main…»

La performance «Seule la main…» a commencé à Vancouver en février 2007 à l’occasion d’une visite au "Emily Carr Institute of Art and Design» pour rencontrer des étudiants en cinéma d’animation. Une soirée image/musique fut organisée au cours de laquelle je devais faire un duo avec le musicien Stefan Smulovitz. Pour ce duo, j’avais choisi de travailler à partir d’un texte qui avait été porté à mon attention par un ami français: «Seule la main qui efface peut écrire la vérité.» Cet ami savait fort pertinemment que cette phrase m’intéresserait à plusieurs titres : à cause de son caractère paradoxal et à cause de la mise en situation du geste d’effacer, qui était alors devenu un élément essentiel de mes performances d’animation en direct. Il avait pris connaissance de «la phrase» au cours d’une conférence du professeur Carlo Ossola. Sans entrer dans les détails, je précise qu'il s’agit d’une phrase attribuée, de façon probablement apocryphe, au mystique Rhénan Maître Eckhart. De toute façon, l’idée d’associer «effacement» et «vérité» circule depuis fort longtemps. On en trouve des traces sous différentes formes, dans les Évangiles, chez Dante et ailleurs. Au-delà des implications mystiques de cette phrase, ce qui m’a attiré avant tout était ce rapport précis avec mon processus de travail en animation improvisée, dessiner et effacer de façon cyclique : le mouvement animé ne peut apparaître que par l’effaçage. Il y a aussi le fait que cette phrase lie la question de la vérité à des activités physiques qui mettent le corps en action, qui supposent des gestes, à savoir écrire et effacer, et pas seulement «dire» la vérité. Il m’a semblé que l’impossibilité d’attribuer cette phrase à aucune source certaine m’autorisait à l’investir d’un sens qui me convienne, ce sans nécessairement écarter toutes les interprétations possibles, repérables dans sa longue histoire. J’ai donc fait cette performance d’abord en anglais («Only the hand that erases can write the true thing'»). Je l’ai repris plusieurs fois par la suite en français (à Montréal, à Chicoutimi, à Toronto et à Beyrouth). À Beyrouth, j’ai regretté de ne pas avoir utilisé la langue arabe. À cause de ma méconnaissance de l’écriture arabe, cela aurait demandé trop de préparation et d’exercices pour le temps dont je disposais. Néanmoins, j’ai résolu de désormais saisir toutes les occasions pour faire cette performance dans le plus grand nombre possible de langues. C’est devenu un projet. L’objectif d’associer l’austère mystique de l’effacement au foisonnement de toutes les langues ajoutait ainsi une autre couche de paradoxes et donnait une valeur moins unilatérale à l’entreprise : que pour advenir la vérité doive non seulement passer l’épreuve de l’élimination du superflus mais doive également s’engager dans la répétition infinie dans tous les idiomes de l’humanité. La performance «Seule la main…» est ainsi devenue une célébration de la multiplicité des langues ainsi que du fait que la traduction soit possible. À mesure que les versions s’accumulaient, je restais très indécis quant à ce que j’allais faire avec toute cette matière. Au bout du compte, j’en suis venu à penser que la diffusion simultanée de différentes versions, permettant de créer un ensemble plastique et dynamique plus vaste, était la solution la plus intéressante. Ce qui rend cela possible et visuellement intéressant, c’est que toutes les performances ont la même structure (définie par l’organisation interne de la phrase et par la musique de Stefan Smulovitz, que j’utilise pour toutes les performances). Par contre elles sont toutes différentes dans le détail de leur «timing» et de leur construction dynamique et plastique. Lorsque l’espace s’y prêtait et que le materiel technique était disponible, j’ai alors commencé à faire la performance sur trois écrans (deux versions antérieures diffusées sur les écrans latéraux et la nouvelle au centre). C’était déjà le début de la transformation de la simple performance en projet d’installation vidéo. Cette démarche a abouti en décembre 2009 à la Cinémathèque québécoise avec la présentation d’une première version de l’installation vidéo qui regroupait 12 versions en autant de langues différentes, captées pour la plupart lors de performances dans des pays ou des lieux qui avaient à voir avec chacune de ces langues. Donc, après l’avoir faite en anglais et plusieurs fois en français, je l'ai faite en italien en mai 2008 dans le village de Macchiagodena, au sud-est de Rome puis à ZOCulture à Catania en Sicile («Solo la mano che cancela puo scrivere la verita»). Le 29 janvier 2009, j'e l’ai présentée en Néérlandais (en Flammand plus précisément) au Vooruit à Gand («Enkel de hand die uitwist kan de waarheid schrijven»), le 5 janvier en yiddish à Paris au Théâtre La Vieille grille («Nor di hant vos ken oysmenk di ken shraybn dem emes»), puis le 7 février en portugais, à la Faculdade de Belas Artes de Lisbonne (FBAUL) («Só a mão que apaga pode dizer a verdade»), le 14 février, à Vancouver, en lakota, une langue amérindienne, («Nape kin lece hena pajuju wowicake he okihi owa»). Le 23 avril 2009, je l'ai présentée en paiute, une langue amérindienne parlée au Nevada («Emi kaahemá katoo myuk’u, key hemá nomy yow qua»), à l'Université de Californie à Davis. En septembre 2009, je l’ai faite en romanesco («Solo a mano che cancella po scrive a verita») au Club INIT, à Rome, et en romagnolo («Sol la man c’la scanzèle po scrivar la vérité») à Area Sismica à Meldola. Le 30 octobre, je l’ai faite en Ojibway («Mininj eta gaa-gaasii'ang odaa-ozhibii'aan debwewang»). Finalement, j’ai faite la douzième, en innu («Muku mititshi ka kashinimatshet tshi ui uitam tapueunu»), lors d’une performance à la Cinémathèque le 4 décembre et cette version a été immédiatement insérée dans l’installation qui y était présentée.

Notes au sujet de la phrase «Seule la main…» et le cinéma d’animation.

Le texte qui suit est un extrait d’un ensemble de textes beaucoup plus considérable où je tente de m’appuyer sur les écrits du critique et théoricien français de l’animation André Martin, pour définir ma propre approche du cinéma. Cet ensemble de textes peut être consulté sur mon site internet : http://pierrehebert.com/index.php/2009/03/13/117-l-expression-instrumentale-et-la-pensee-d-andre-martin)

Au bout du compte, je crois que ce qui m’intéresse vraiment dans la phrase de «Seule la main…» («seule la main qui efface peut écrire la vérité») c’est d’avoir pu en extraire ce titre, qui finalement vaut par lui-même. Mais je ne peux affirmer cela qu’après coup. Mon attrait initial pour cette phrase, lorsqu'on m’a fait part de la conférence du professeur Ottola, c’est qu’à travers l’expression d’un paradoxe (effacement et vérité), elle décrivait ce que je fais cycliquement en animant en direct avec les feutres à effaçage à sec (dessiner-effacer-dessiner- etc.) et qu’ainsi elle constituait potentiellement une prise de position par rapport à l’animation.

Il y a toute une constellation de significations qui vibrent autour de ce lien entre «effacer» et «écrire la vérité». «Effacer» peut vouloir dire épurer, enlever le superflu pour qu’il ne reste que l’essentiel, la vérité. Plus radicalement, ça peut vouloir dire qu’il n’y a de vérité que lorsque tout est effacé, c’est-à-dire que la vérité est la place vide, le point zéro de toute activité humaine, lorsque tous les contraires s’annulent. Ou encore, on peut tout reporter dans le domaine des potentialités et entendre «seule la main qui peut effacer peut écrire la vérité», c’est-à-dire que la vérité n’est possible que pour la main qui a le pouvoir du geste contraire, et même que la vérité n’est que potentialité, pouvoir écrire la vérité et tout autant pouvoir ne pas…(comme chez Bartleby). Ou encore, on peut aussi entendre qu’une élimination des discours passés, une sorte de tabula rasa, est nécessaire à l’apparition d’une vérité, irruption de quelque chose de radicalement nouveau (ce qui n’est pas la même chose que l’épuration mystique du superflu et de l’accessoire).

Dans tous les cas, c’est un jeu avec le vide. Ce qui me rappelle la célèbre phrase de Norman McLaren (en n’oubliant pas d’inclure la rature très significative qui est presque toujours effacée lorsque cette phrase est citée) :

  • Animation is not the art of DRAWINGS-that-move but the art of MOVEMENTS-that-are-drawn.
  • What happens between each frame is much more important than what exists on each frame.
  • Animation is therefore the art of manipulating the invisible (that) interstices that lie between frames.

Comme je l’ai développé ailleurs (Corps, langage, technologie, Les 400 coups 2006, p. 110), le «that» qui était biffé sur la note manuscrite qu’André Martin a vue épinglée sur le babillard de McLaren (et qui a été reproduite dans la revue Cinéma 57 - no 14), montre que ce dernier était venu tout près de décrire l’animation comme «the art of manipulating the invisible that lie between frames», donc littéralement comme un jeu avec le vide. C’est quand même ce que dit la phrase épurée, mais ce qui semble avoir été l’intention initiale était plus radical.

En resituant la phrase («seule la main…») dans un contexte matériel de prolifération des images qui est le propre de l’animation (en effet l’effacement n’y est jamais définitif, mais est plutôt un moment transitoire et récurrent dans une chaîne d’actions –effacer/dessiner - qui permet d’instituer le flux animé), se constituait une autre couche de paradoxes qui fait contrepoids à une interprétation en terme d’épuration mystique de l’accessoire. La prolifération des langues (potentiellement toutes les langues du monde), qui est venue ensuite, allait dans le même sens. Le but n’était pas d’abolir la constellation de sens qui entoure cette phrase, mais, au contraire, d’éviter toute interprétation unilatérale et de lui donner dans ce contexte un centre de gravité différent où le geste d’effacer apparaît comme la condition du mouvement illusoire de l’animation qui, par un jeu avec le vide (avec l’invisible), prend la place fugitive de «la vérité». À la fois, cela matérialise le sens de la phrase et donne au geste d’animer une résonnance philosophique. À un premier niveau, cela constitue une description d’une certaine façon de faire (plumes feutre à effaçage à sec) qui m’est personnelle. Mais cela dit également quelque chose de l’animation en général et c’est fondamentalement ce qui se joue dans le cadre de mes performances et de l’installation qui a suivi.

Cela désigne donc une conception de l’acte d’animer fondée sur la destruction des états précédents par opposition à une conception axée sur la préservation fluide de la continuité (ou plutôt de l’apparence de la continuité). Il y a historiquement des techniques d’animation qui procèdent effectivement par effaçage, élimination, destruction partielle ou entière de la phase précédente dans la suite des états d’image qui permettent synthétiquement l’institution d’un mouvement. C’est le cas, par exemple, des animations de papiers découpés, de marionnettes, d’objets, de plasticine, de peinture sur verre, d’altération de dessins au fusain ou au pastel. Face à cette constellation de techniques destructives, se dresse le dessin animé classique (dit «animation sur cellulos») où les dessins successifs conservent leur existence matérielle, ce qui est essentiel pour la division du travail entre dessins-clefs et «in-betweens» et qui permet une vérification méticuleuse de la qualité du mouvement avant même le tournage. Ainsi l’acceptation du danger (pour reprendre un mot d’André Martin, «les dangers de l’animation») et l’esprit d’aventure inhérents aux autres techniques, y sont écartés.

Il est remarquable que ces techniques destructives aient été diversement pratiquées, d’abord à l’époque des débuts du cinéma et du cinéma d’animation, avant sa standardisation par le système des studios, et ensuite au moment de l’explosion créative de l’animation moderne de l’après Deuxième guerre mondiale, tel que théorisé par André Martin sous le vocable «cinéma d’animation». Cependant, même si cette bipartition des techniques est repérable historiquement et qu’elle recèle la potentialité de la conception radicale de l’animation qui se profile derrière la phrase «seule la main…», on ne peut en conclure que la pratique de telle ou telle technique entraine automatiquement une adhésion à «l’idée de l’animation» sous sa forme la plus radicale. Les praticiens des techniques destructrices se sont le plus souvent inventé toute sortes de trucs et de béquilles pour conjurer les risques de la discontinuité et assurer les conditions d’un mouvement fluide, pour prendre le parti du continu. À l’inverse, dans un important article de Cinéma 65, André Martin montre comment John Hubley, tout en mobilisant le savoir faire de l’animation classique américaine, prend le parti de la radicalité de «l’image par image» en élaborant son style autour de l’étape des «flimsies (dans la pratique des grands studios, les «flimsies» constituent l’étape initiale du processus où il n’y a que le dessin brut sur papier, plein de scories, avant le processus de standardisation et de polissage qui mène au rendu final, tracé et coloré sur acétate).

Pour moi, la phrase «seule la main qui efface peut écrire la vérité» pointe, par l’affirmation de la main et de l’effaçage comme condition de la vérité, vers la radicalité de «l’idée de l’animation», l’image par image considéré sous l’angle de sa constitution radicalement discontinue. Elle désigne en cela l’essence raréfiée et ascétique de l’animation lorsque tout le superflu est écarté, sa vérité – et par conséquent, la vérité du cinéma.

Pierre Hébert Tel: 450-247-0081 Cell: 514-217-8138 C.P. 492, Hemmingford, QC, J0L 1H0, CANADA ph@pierrehebert.com http://pierrehebert.com

PIERRE HEBERT (cinéaste et artiste multidisciplinaire) CURRICULUM VITAE

Né à Montréal, le 19 janvier 1944 Études : -Cours classique : Externat classique St-Viateur (1955-1962) -Baccalauréat en anthropologie, Université de Montréal (1962-1965) À l’emploi de l’Office national du film du Canada à titre de réalisateur de films d’animation (1965 à 1999) Producteur et directeur du Studio français d’animation de 1997 à 1999.Artiste indépendant depuis janvier 2000. Président de la Cinémathèque Québécoise de 1993 à 1995. Enseignement : École des Beaux-arts de Montréal (1968), Université Laval (1974-1978), Université de Montréal (1975-1978) ainsi que divers masterclass en Suisse, en Italie, au Liban et en Belgique.

Site Internet : http://pierrehebert.com

Principaux prix Prix Albert Tessier pour le cinéma, 2004. Décerné annuellement par le Gouvernement du Québec pour l’ensemble d’une œuvre. Pour «Entre la science et les ordures». Mention spéciale du jury au FCMM, Prix de la création du CALQ aux Rendez-vous du cinéma québécois 2004. Pour «La Plante humaine». Prix Sodec-Aqcc pour le meilleur long métrage québécois, 1996, Prix Cinéma de l’Office des communications sociales, 1997, Prix spécial du jury au Festival international de Bodrum, en Turquie. Melkweg Cinema Award for Reality Research, Amsterdam, 1985; prix Héritage McLaren 1988 pour l’ensemble de son œuvre; Bessy Award 1987 (NewYork Dance and Performance Award) pour les films de Technology of Tears; Prix Aqec-Olivieri 1993 pour le meilleur article théorique sur le cinéma; Prix Aqcc 1985 du meilleur court ou moyen métrage québécois pour «Chants et danses du monde inanimé – Le Métro».

Principaux films. Triptyque (2009, 30min.15 sec. prod. indépendante), Herqueville (2007, 21min.40 sec. prod. indépendante), La statue de Giordano Bruno (2005, 12 min. 9 sec., prod. indépendante), La technologie des larmes (2005, 13 min. 56 sec. prod. ONF et Pierre Hébert), Variations sur deux photographies de Tina Modotti (2005, 37 min. prod. indépendante) Entre la science et les ordures (2003, 50 min, prod. indépendante), La Plante humaine (1996, 78min., ONF), La Lettre d’amour (1988, 16 min., ONF), Adieu bipède (1987, 16 min., ONF), O Picasso – tableaux d’une surexposition (1986, 20 min., ONF), Chants et danses du monde inanimé – Le Métro (1986, 14 min., ONF), Étienne et Sara (1984, 15 min., ONF), Souvenirs de guerre (1982, 16 min., ONF), Entre chiens et loup (1978, 22 min., ONF), Père Noël, Père Noël ! (1974, 12 min., ONF), Autour de la perception (1968, 16 min., ONF), Opus 3 (1967, 7 min., ONF), Op Hop (1965, 3 min. ONF), Opus 1 (1964, 4 min., prod. indépendante).

Projet «Seule la main…» Performance solo d’animation en direct avec une musique de Stefan Smulovitz. Depuis février 2007, cette performance a été présentée une quinzaine de fois au Canada, à Vancouver, Winnipeg, Toronto, Montréal, et Chicoutimi, aux USA, à Davis (Californie), en Europe, à Paris, Gand, Lisbonne, Rome, Macchiagodena, Catania et Meldola, ainsi qu’à Beyrouth. Installation vidéo «Seule la Main…» Salle Norman McLaren, Cinémathèque québécoise, 3-20 décembre 2009. Projection simultanée sur trois murs de douze versions de la performance en douze langues différentes (anglais, français, italien, yiddish, portugais, lakota, paiute, romanesco, romagnolo, ojibway, innu).

Projet «Living Cinéma» Performance animation en direct et musique improvisée avec Bob Ostertag. Depuis 2001, sous quatre formes différentes (Between Science and Garbage, 2001-03, Endangered Species, 2003-06, Special Forces, 2006-09, Home, 2009-…), il y a eu environ 70 présentations, au Canada, aux USA, au Mexique, en Argentine, en Hollande, en Belgique, en France, au Royaume-Uni, au Portugal, en Italie, en Autriche, en Allemagne, en Slovénie, au Liban, en Israël et au Japon.

Performances de gravure sur pellicule en direct Spectacle solo avec une musique de Bob Ostertag - conférence/performance sur la gravure sur pellicule, présentée une douzaine de fois de 1999 à 2002, au Canada, au Mexique, aux USA, aux Pays-Bas, en France, en Italie, au Portugal et en Suisse.

De nombreuses autres performances de gravure sur pellicule en direct ont été présentées depuis 1986, en Amérique du Nord et en Europe avec de nombreux musiciens dont Bob Ostertag, Fred Frith, Robert Marcel Lepage, Jean Derome, René Lussier, Andrea Martignoni, Éric Gagnon, Carlos Bica et d’autres.

Autres spectacles musicaux Je sais que tu sais (Nitshisseniten e tshissenitamin), spectacle de chansons de Chloé Sainte-Marie, conception vidéo, Montréal, février 2010) ; Roberts Creek, avec Stefan Smulovitz, Toronto, 2009 ; Glaces , avec Pierre Duchesne, Rendez-vous du cinéma québécois, Montréal, 2008 ; Filature, théâtre sonore de Joane Hétu, Usine C, Montréal, 2006; Entre basura y ciencia avec Bob Ostertag et Baltasar Lopez, Yerba Buena Center for The Arts, San Francisco, 2000 ; Spiral avec Bob Ostertag, San Francisco 1996 ; In Memory avec Fred Frith, New Music America, BAM, New York, 1989 ; Mutation avec Michel Lemieux, Montréal, 1988 ; Confitures de Gagaku avec Jean Derome, Montréal, 1986 ; La symphonie interminable avec Jean Derome, Robert Marcel Lepage et René Lussier,1984.

Films scénographiques pour la danse Elles, chorégraphie de Louise Bédard, théâtre de La Chapelle, Montréal, novembre 2002 - Ville invisible chorégraphie de Jean-Marc Matos, Centre national art et technologie, Reims, France, 1991. Braise Blanche, chorégraphie de Louise Bédard, Centre national des arts, Ottawa, 1991. The Technology of Tears, chorégraphie de Rosalind Newman, Joyce Theater, NewYork, 1987. Timber, chorégraphie de Ginette Laurin, Montréal, 1986.

Principales publications et conférences Pierre Hébert a publié deux livres d’essais sur le cinéma, le cinéma d’animation et les rapports entre l’art et la technologie : Corps, langage, technologie, Les 400 coups, 2006 et L’Ange et l’automate, Les 400 coups, 1999. Il a également publié de nombreux articles dans des revues spécialisés ou dans des livres collectifs et a présenté des conférences dans de nombreux colloques. Son œuvre a fait l’objet d’une monographie, Pierre Hébert, l’homme animé, par Marcel Jean Les 400 coups, 1996.

Rétrospectives Buenos Aires Festival Internacional de Cinema Independente, (rétrospective complète) Buenos Aires, Argentine, 2008 ; Regard sur le court métrage du Saguenay , Chicoutimi, Canada, 2008 ; Holland Animation Festival, Utrecht, Pays-Bas, 2000 ; Cinémathèque Québécoise (rétrospective complète), Montréal 2000 et 1982 ; Festival Fantoche, Baden, Suisse, 1999 ; Festival international du film d’animation Annecy, France, 1997 ; Cinémas du Canada Centre Georges Pompidou, Paris, 1993 ; Festival d’animation d’Ottawa 1988 ; Festival du cinéma québécois, Liège, Charleroi et Bruxelles, Belgique, 1986 ; Cinéma Melkweg Amsterdam, 1985 ; Centre culturel canadien, Paris, 1983 ; Biennale de Paris, Paris, 1967.

Des listes détaillées des différentes activités et œuvres de Pierre Hébert sont disponibles sur son site internet : http://pierrehebert.com

Monday 29 March 2010

The "Only the hand..." video installation

ONLY THE HAND…

Video installation by Pierre Hébert

A celebration of the multiplicity of languages and of the possibility of “translation”.

The installation

To this date, the installation was shown once, in the Norman McLaren exhibition hall of the Cinémathèque québécoise in Montreal, from December 3 to 21 2009. It consisted in the simultaneous projection of twelve versions, in twelve different languages, of the “Only the hand…” performance which is a live animation performance where I animate the sentence Only the hand that erases can write the true thing (more details follow about this). The languages were: English, French, Italian, Dutch, Yiddish, Portuguese, Lakota, Paiute, Romanesco, Romagnolo, Ojibway and Innu. There were four screens side by side on three walls of the space. The different versions were placed from left to right in chronological order so that beyond the multiplicity of languages it did give evidence to an evolution in time in the way of approaching the animation of the words and to a geographical circulation in order to do each performance in countries were the language was spoken. The date, location and language were identified under each of the screens. The installation repeated itself every 35 minutes and it played with a music track by Stefan Smulovitz.

I was very happy with the way the installation was put up at la Cinémathèque québécoise in a single quite large space (approx 12 meters wide, 24 meters long and 6 meters high) but I can see that the spatial distribution of the different screens, the number of screens (there can be more than twelve, or less but there should be at least six of them for it to be meaningful), and the choice of languages will vary as the project develops and depending on the configuration of the spaces were it will be shown. This is all to be evaluated in every specific situation.

It would be quite natural, I think, to accompany the installation with the presentation of a performance in a new language spoken locally, which would then be included in the language mix of the installation. There are other possibilities of performances (like a Living Cinema performance with my colleague Bob Ostertag - http://pierrehebert.com/index.php/2008/07/07/53-living-cinema-special-forces) if it is wished. There is also the possibility of presenting a program of my films as a complement to the installation.

Technical requirements.

I imbedded two images on each DVD, so to have twelve versions of the performance on the walls, only six video projectors were needed (two projectors projecting on each of the walls) and six DVD players. The DVD players needed to be synchronized in some way. To be more precise, every time the installation starts a new cycle (more or less every 36 minutes), the six DVD players must start simultaneously. It does not need to be synchronized while it runs – over a 36 minutes period, the discrepancies between the different players cannot be a problem. But if the little differences accumulate over a full day of playing, then it would become problematic. Some rigs are needed to suspend the video projectors from the ceiling. Appropriate cabling is needed depending where the projectors and the DVD readers are located. The brightness of the different projectors should be the same, but the adjustment between the different images is just moderately critical since all the sources were created in sometimes very different conditions, and those differences are part of the concept of the piece. In Montreal, we used 3000 lumens projectors, but the space was large and so were the projecting surfaces.

There are other technical options than the synchronized DVD players used in Montreal. I am currently assessing the possibility of playing the tracks from solid state media players using SD memory cards, which would give better images (including HD format if the appropriate projectors are available) and which would make the whole set-up more reliable. If this is confirmed as a valid solution, I would considerer acquiring all the necessary players so that the venue would have to only supply the video projectors.

Actual screens are not needed; it is better to project on a white wall. The size and the height of the images depend on the configuration of the space. The adjacent images must be precisely fitted so that their adjacent sides touch each other. A stereo sound system is needed to play the music track, which is read, from one of the DVD’s. The space must remain dark with just a little light in the central area so that the visitors find their way when the images become totally black.

See the VIDEO, visit the gallery.

History of the project: the “Only the hand…” performance.

The “Only the hand…” project started in Vancouver in February 2007 when I was invited as a visiting artist at the Emily Carr University of Art and Design. At this occasion, an evening of image and music improvisation was organized and I played in duet with a Vancouver musician, Stefan Smulovitz. I choose to work from a sentence that shortly before had been brought to my attention by a French friend: Only the hand that erases can write the true thing. My friend knew very well that this sentence would interest me for many reasons: the fact that it expresses itself in the form of a paradox and also the fact that that it centers on the gesture of erasing which had become a key element of my live animation performances. He had heard about “the sentence” during a conference given by professor Carlo Ossola of Collège de France, in Paris. This sentence is sometimes attributed to the German mystic Master Eckhart but actually its origin remains obscure and contested. At any rate, this idea of associating truth and erasing has a very ancient history. Traces of it are found a bit everywhere, in the Gospels, in Dante amongst others. Beyond the austere mystical undertones of this sentence, what interested me fist and foremost in it was its precise relationship with my workflow when I do live improvised animation, alternately drawing and erasing. The animated movement cannot appear without the action of erasing. It also interested me because it relates the question of truth to very physical actions that put the body into motion (writing and erasing), and not just to the act of “saying the truth”. It seemed to me that the impossibility to attribute this sentence to any single author did authorized me to give it a meaning that suited my needs, without necessarily discarding all of the possible historical interpretation of it. I did the first performance in the English language. The following performances were in French (Seule la main qui efface peut écrire la vérité) in Toronto, Beirut, Montreal and Chicoutimi. In Beirut, I regretted not having done the necessary preparatory work to be able to do it in Arabic. Nevertheless, this planted in my mind the idea of taking advantage of all of the occasions that would permit me to do the performance in as many languages as possible. This is how it became a major project for me. Also, the fact of associating the austere theme of erasing carried by the sentence to the burgeoning abundance of virtually all the languages of mankind allowed me to add another layer of paradox and to give a less unilateral value to the whole enterprise: to advent, truth must not only face the exercise of taking away all superfluities, but also engage itself in the infinite repetition in all the idioms of mankind. So the “Only the hand...” performance became not only a celebration of the multiplicity of languages but also a celebration of the very possibility of “translation” which is a fundamental condition of the existence of “mankind”. I still had to decide what I would do with this series of performance (obviously, I did a video capture of each of them). I considered releasing them as a DVD collection, but it quickly appeared absurd. I finally came to think that the simultaneous viewing of different versions in the form of a video installation would create a vaster dynamic and visual ensemble and would make the point much more strongly and much more clearly. What makes this visually interesting is, on the one hand, the fact that all the performances were constructed around the same structure (a structure that came with the inner organization of the sentence itself and also with Stefan Smulovitz's music which I used in every performance) and, on the second hand, the fact that they all are quite different because of the difference of languages and of the variations in timing, accentuation and visual construction. So when it was technically possible, I began to do the performances with a three screens setup (two previous versions being shown on each of the side screens, and the new one on the center). This was the beginning of the transformation of the performance into a video installation project. By December 2009, I had accumulated twelve versions in twelve different languages. As already mentioned, I performed it in English and several times in French, I did it in Italian, in May 2008, in the village of Macchiagodena, south east of Rome and at ZOCulture in Catania (Solo la mano che cancela puo scrivere la verita). On January 29 2009, I performed the Dutch (Flemish) version (Enkel de hand die uitwist kan de waarheid schrijven) at the Vooruit in Gent. On February 4 2009, I performed a Yiddish version in Paris at Théâtre de la Vieille Grille (Nor di hant vos ken oysmenk di ken shraybn dem emes). On February 6 2009, I performed it in Portuguese at the Faculdade de Belas Artes de Lisboa (FBAUL) in Lisbon (Só a mão que apaga pode dizer a verdade) and on February 14, I performed a North American native language version (the Lakota language - nape kin lece hena pajuju wowicake he okihi owa) at performance Works in Vancouver. On April 20, I performed it in the Paiute language spoken in Nevada (Emi kaahemá katoo myuk’u, key hemá nomy yow qua) at the University of California in Davis. On September 29, I did a Romanesco version (the traditionnal vernacular idiom of Rome) at the INIT Club, in Rome (solo a mano che cancella po scrive a verita), and on October 4, a Romagnolo version (the traditional idiom of Romagna) at Area Sismica in Meldola (Sol la man c’la scanzèle po scrivar la vérité). On October 30, at the Cinematheque of the Winnipeg Film Group, I did an Ojibway version (mininj eta gaa-gaasii'ang odaa-ozhibii'aan debwewang). The last language of the installation, the Innu language spoken by a First Nation living in Quebec (muku mititshi ka kashinimatshet tshi ui uitam tapueunu), was performed at La Cinémathèque Québécoise on December 4 and was readily included in the first version of the installation that was shown from December 3 to 21 in the Norman McLaren exhibition hall.

Notes about the “Only the hand…” sentence and animation cinema.

(What follows is just one section of a number of texts where I try to draw on the writings of the French critic and theoretician of animation, André Martin, to define my own approach to cinema. This series of texts which, for now, exists only in French, can be found on my web site: http://pierrehebert.com/index.php/2009/03/13/117-l-expression-instrumentale-et-la-pensee-d-andre-martin)

I believe that what interests me most in the sentence of “Only the hand…” (Only the hand that erases can write the true thing) is the fact that I could extract this title. “Only the hand…” from it, that finally has a value of its own. But I can say this only after the fact. When the conference of Professor Ottola was reported to me, what attracted me was the fact that through the paradoxical association of truth and the action of erasing, this sentence described what I do cyclically when I do live animation with dry erase felt pens (draw-erase-draw-erase etc.) and thus constituted a potential statement in regard to animation.

A whole constellation of meanings is vibrating around this connection between “erasing” and “writing the truth”. “Erasing” could refer to purifying, removing the superfluities so that only remains the essential, the truth. In a more radical way, it could mean that there is truth only when everything has been erased, that is to say that truth is the emptiness, the ground zero of all human activity, when all contraries are cancelled. It could also all be transported in the domain of potentialities, then we could understand “Only the hand that can erase, can write the true thing” which implies that truth is possible only for the hand that has the empowerment of the inverse action, and pushing even further, that truth is only a potentiality, to be able to write the truth as much as to prefer not to…(like Bartleby) – this is the one I like best. Or again, it could be understood that the effacement of all past discourses is necessary to the appearance of truth, a sort of tabula rasa, the emergence of something radically new (which is not the same thing as the mystical purification of the superfluities.

In all cases, it is a game with emptiness. This reminds me of the famous sentence of Norman McLaren describing animation (and not forgetting the meaningful erasure that most of the time is forgotten when the sentence is quoted):

  • Animation is not the art of DRAWINGS-that-move but the art of MOVEMENTS-that-are-drawn.
  • What happens between each frame is much more important than what exists on each frame.
  • Animation is therefore the art of manipulating the invisible (that) interstices that lie between frames.

As I developed it in another text (Corps, langage, technologie, Les 400 coups 2006, p. 110), the “that” that was crossed out on the manuscript note that was pinned on McLaren’s bulletin board (the French critic André Martin saw it in the 50’s and got it reproduced in the French cinema magazine Cinema 57 – number 14) shows that McLaren came very close to describe animation as “the art of manipulating the invisible that lies between frames”, literally as a game with emptiness. This is more or less what the purged sentence says but in a less radical way.

In repositioning the sentence in the context of the material proliferation of images (this is inherent to animation, the effacement is never definitive, rather a transitory and recurrent phase in a chain of actions – to draw, to erase – which allows to induct the animated flow), another layer of paradox appears that acts as a counterweight to an interpretation in terms mystical purification of superfluities. This has a similar value as the proliferation of languages that came later in the process. I don’t mean to abolish the constellation of meanings that surrounds this sentence, quite the contrary, but to avoid any unilateral interpretation and to set it in a new unexpected context where its center of gravity shifts. Consequently, the action of erasing appears as the condition of the illusory movement of animation. Through “the manipulation of the invisible”, it then occupies the fugitive position of “truth”. This, in the same time, gives a material weight to the meaning of the sentence and adds a philosophical resonance to the act of animating. At first glance, it is a description of my specific way of animation (with dry erase felt pens) but it also says something more general about animation, which is also what is at stake in my performances as well as in the installation.

It all refers to a conception and practice of animation through the constant destruction of the previous state of things versus the conception centered on the fluid preservation of the appearance of continuity. In effect, there are, historically, animation techniques that proceed effectively through erasure, elimination, partial or total destruction of the preceding phases in the succession images that makes possible the synthetic emergence of motion. It is the case, for example, with animation that uses paper cutouts, puppets, objects, paint on glass, charcoal or pastel, etc. Opposite to this constellation of destructive techniques, stands the classical technique of cartoons (cell animation) were the successive drawings keep their material existence, which is essential to the division of labor between key drawings and in-betweens and allows for a precise verification of the fluidity of motion even before shooting. Thus the feel of “danger” (to use André Martin’s expression, “the dangers of animation”) and adventure inherent to the destructive techniques is avoided.

It is remarkable that the destructive techniques were diversely used through history, first in the formative years of cinema where they were dominant, just before being brushed aside by the technical standardization brought about by the development of large industrial animation studios, then at the moment of the creative explosion of modern animation, just after World War II, as theorized by André Martin under the vocable “animation cinema” («cinema d’animation»). But, even if this bipartition of techniques is historically detectable and bears the potentiality of the radical conception of animation that lies behind the “only the hand…” sentence, we cannot conclude that the adhesion to a radical understanding of “the idea of animation” necessarily follows from the practice of this or that technique.

Often times, the adepts of destructive techniques have also invented for themselves gizmos and crutches in order to avoid the dangers of discontinuities and preserve the conditions of fluid motion, and embrace the party of the continuous. To the contrary, in an important article in Cinema 65, André Martin shows how John Hubley, mobilizing all the know how of the classical Disney animation, accepts the discontinuous radicalism of the “frame by frame” principle of animation by developing his style around the “flimsies” stage of animation (in the large animation studios, the “flimsies” stage was the first step of the process where only rough drawings on paper exist, full of imperfections, before the steps of extreme polishing that lead to the final rendering on celluloid).

In short, the “Only the hand…” sentence, by asserting the role of the hand and of erasure as a condition of truth, points toward the radicalism of “the idea of animation” when it is considered from the angle of its radically discontinuous structure. By this, it designates the rarefied and ascetic essence of animation when all superfluities are set aside, its truth – and by extension the truth of cinema.

PIERRE HÉBERT (Filmmaker and multidisciplinary artist)

CURRICULUM VITAE

Born in Montreal, January 19 1944.

Studies: Classical course: Externat classique St-Viateur (1955-1962). Baccalaureate in anthropology, University of Montreal, (1962-1965).

Employed by The National Film Board of Canada as an animation film director (1965-1999). Producer and Studio Director, French Animation Studio (1997-1999). Independent artist since January 2000. President of the board, Cinémathèque québécoise (1993-1996). Teaching: Fine Arts School of Montreal (1968), Laval University (1974-1978), University of Montreal (1975-1978), and different master classes in Switzerland, Italy, Lebanon and Belgium.

Website : : http://pierrehebert.com

Main awards

2004 Albert Tessier award (Quebec Government cinema award for lifetime achievement). For Between science and garbage, special mention of the jury at the FCMM, CALQ award for artistic creation at les Rendez-vous du cinéma québécois 2004. For La Plante humaine, Sodec-Aqcc Award for the best Quebec feature in1996, Cinéma Award of l’Office des communications sociales in 1997 and special price of the jury at The International Festival of Budrun, Turkey – Melkweg Cinema Award for Reality Research, Amsterdam, 1985; first recipient of the Norman McLaren Heritage Award 1988 - Bessy Award 1987 (NewYork Dance and Performance Award) for the films in Technology of Tears - Aqec-Olivieri Award 1993 for the best theoretical article on cinema - Aqcc Award 1985 for the best Quebec short of the year for Songs and Dances of the inanimate world – The Subway.

Main films



Triptych (2009, 30:15 min. independent prod.); Herqueville (2007, 21:40 min., independent prod.); The Statue of Giordano Bruno (2005, 12:09 min., independent prod.); The Technology of Tears (2005, 13:56 min., prod. NFB and Pierre Hébert); Variations on two Photographs by Tina Modotti (2005, 40 min. independent prod.); Between Science and Garbage (2004, 50 min. independent prod.); La Plante humaine (1996, 78min., NFB); La Lettre d’amour (1988, 16 min., NFB); Adieu bipède (1987, 16 min., NFB); O Picasso – tableaux d’une surexposition (1986, 20 min., NFB); Songs and Dances of the inanimate world – The Subway (1986, 14 min., NFB); Étienne et Sara (1984, 15 min., NFB); Memories of War (1982, 16 min., NFB); Entre chiens et loup (1978, 22 min., NFB); Santa Calus is coming tonight (1974, 12 min., NFB); Around Perception (1968, 16 min., NFB); Opus 3 (1967, 7 min., NFB); Op Hop (1965, 3 min., NFB).

The Only the hand… project

Solo performance of live animation with music by Stefan Smulovitz. Since February 2007, this performance was presented fifteen times in Canada (Vancouver, Winnipeg, Toronto, Montreal, and Chicoutimi), in the USA (Davis - California), in Europe (Paris, Gent, Lisbon, Rome, Macchiagodena, Catania and Meldola) and also in Beyrouth.

Video installation Only the hand…

Norman McLaren exhibition hall, Cinémathèque québécoise, December 3-20 2009. Simultaneously projected on three walls, twelve versions of the performance in twelve different languages (English, French, Italian, Yiddish, Portuguese, Lakota, Paiute, Romanesco, Romagnolo, Ojibway, Innu).

The Living Cinema project

Live animation and improvised music performance with Bob Ostertag. Since 2001, in four different versions ((Between Science and Garbage, 2001-03, Endangered Species, 2003-06, Special Forces, 2006-09, Home, 2009-…), there were about seventy presentations in Canada, the USA, Mexico, Argentina, the Nederland, Belgium, France the U.K., Portugal, Italy, Austria, Germany, Slovenia, Lebanon, Israel and Japan.

Live scratched animation performances

Solo performance with music by Bob Ostertag - conference/performance on animation engraved on film, presented twelve times between 1999 and 2002, in Canada, Mexico, the USA, the Nederland, France, Italy, Portugal and Switzerland.

Since 1986, many other performances of live scratching on film were presented in North America and Europe with many musicians among which Bob Ostertag, Fred Frith, Robert Marcel Lepage, Jean Derome, René Lussier, Andrea Martignoni, Éric Gagnon, Carlos Bica and more.

Musical shows

Nitshisseniten e tshissenitamin (I know that you know) video work for the show of signer Chloé Sainte-Marie, premiered in Montreal, 2010; Roberts Creek, with Stefan Smulovitz, SoundPlay Festival, Toronto, 2009 ; Glaces , with Pierre Duchesne, Rendez-vous du cinéma québécois, Montreal, 2008 ; Filature, a sound theater by Joane Hétu, Usine C, Montreal, 2006; Entre basura y ciencia with Bob Ostertag et Baltasar Lopez, Yerba Buena Center for The Arts, San Francisco, 2000; Spiral with Bob Ostertag, San Francisco 1996; In Memory with Fred Frith, New Music America, BAM, New York, 1989; Mutation with Michel Lemieux, Montreal, 1988; Confitures de Gagaku with Jean Derome, Montreal, 1986; La symphonie interminable with Jean Derome, Robert Marcel Lepage and René Lussier, Montreal, 1984.

Scenographic films for dance

Elles, choreography by Louise Bédard, Théâtre de La Chapelle, Montreal, November 2002; Ville invisible choreography by Jean-Marc Matos, Centre national art et technologie, Reims, France, 1991; Braise Blanche choreography by Louise Bédard, National art Center, Ottawa, 1991; The Technology of Tears choreography by Rosalind Newman, Joyce Theater, New York, 1987; Timber choregraphy by Ginette Laurin, Montreal, 1986.

Main publications and conferences

Pierre Hébert wrote two books of essays about cinema, animation cinema and about the relationship between art and technology : Corps, langage, technologie, Les 400 coups, 2006 et L’Ange et l’automate, Les 400 coups, 1999. He also published many articles in specialized journals and collective books and presented conferences in many colloquium. His work was the subject of a monograph, Pierre Hébert, l’homme animé, by Marcel Jean Les 400 coups, 1996.

Retrospectives

Buenos Aires Festival Internacional de Cinema Independente, (complete retrospective) Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2008 ; Regard sur le court métrage du Saguenay , Chicoutimi, Canada, 2008 ; Holland Animation Festival Utrecht, Nederland, 2000 - Cinémathèque Québécoise Montreal 2000 and 1982 - Fantoche Festival, Baden, Suisse, 1999 - Festival international du film d’animation Annecy, France, 1997 - Cinémas du Canada Centre Georges Pompidou, Paris, 1993 - Ottawa International Animation Festival 1988 - Festival du cinéma québécois Liège, Charleroi et Bruxelles, Belgium, 1986 - Melkweg Cinema Amsterdam, 1985 - Canadian Cultural Center Paris, 1983 - Biennale de Paris, Paris, 1967.

Full and detailed accounts of Pierre Hébert’s works and activities can be found on his website: http://pierrehebert.com

Pierre Hébert - Tel: 450-247-0081 - Cell: 514-217-8138 P.O.Box 492, Hemmingford, QC, J0L 1H0, CANADA ph@pierrehebert.com - http://pierrehebert.com

Sunday 21 March 2010

Technical rider - Seule la main... - One screen set up

Seule la main

Contact: Pierre Hébert: ph@pierrehebert.com

Video:

- Highest quality video projector(s) possible, that accept an NTSC signal. (all recent video projectors accept both PAL and NTSC).

- If the performer is set on stage facing the public, the lower end of the projected image should be above his heads when he is sitting on stage (about 4 feet/i.5 meter above the stage floor). The performer can also be facing the screen, sitting amongst the public.

- Projection can be front or rear, as you like.

- Cabling to send a video signal from an on stage computer or video mixer to the projector, one cable is needed - a VGA cable (preferably) or composite cable -“rca” or “cinch” connectors. Note: all video comes from on stage sources.

Sound:

- Highest quality sound system possible.

- If the piece is done as a solo presentation, Pierre Hebert would be sending a stereo signal from a CD player on stage. If the piece is done as a duet with live music an addendum to this technical rider would be supplied.

Power:

- 10 ac oulet on stage where I sit.

Misc.:

- 1 piano benches or chairs without arms.

- 1 tables approximately 3’x 2’ (1.5m x .70m)

- 2 sturdy mike stands with boom (to hold small digital cameras and a little light - not for mikes).


*** IT IS BETTER BY FAR IF WE DO NOT HAVE TO MOVE OR ALTER the SET-UP IN ANY WAY BETWEEN SET-UP AND PERFORMANCE. The performance requires a very tight connection between stage lighting levels, camera placement, and the settings of the onstage computer. These settings are far more delicate than in a more conventional show. Once these has been set, nothing can be moved and the computers cannot be powered off. If moving my things between set-up and performance is unavoidable, please be advised that I will need time to recreate the proper arrangement, and an intermission longer than the standard 15 minutes.


*** If there is a choice between a concert venue in which the seats in the house are sloped upward from the stage, and a venue in which the seats on on a flat floor and the performers on an elevated stage, the venue in which the seats in the house are sloped upward from the stage by by far better. This arrangement permits the audience to actually see what the performers are doing on the tables. Black box type venues with no seats where the audience can either walk around or sit on cushions on the floor is also quite nice.

-page 1 of 1-

Exercices d'animation

Voir la vidéo EXERCICE D'ANIMATION No 13

Voir la vidéo EXERCICE D'ANIMATION NO 18

Voir la vidéo EXERCICE D'ANIMATION NO 19

Ce projet a commencé comme une expérimentation d’animation non-linéaire qui s’est développée à l’écart du public dans l’intimité de mon atelier. Ce furent des «performances d’atelier» que j’ai faites chaque jour pendant plus d’une semaine. Le but était d’explorer comment un très court segment (16 images) d’animation en constante transformation pouvait se mettre en relation avec lui-même à travers une présentation répétitive et à travers différentes altérations vidéo élémentaires (renversement de la direction du flot, changement de la vitesse, permuter l’ordre des images, composition en trios niveaux superposés, etc.). L’animation est faite à la main sur un tableau blanc avec une plume feutre à effaçage à sec, donc dans une alternance de dessin et d’effaçage, chacun des dessins est numérisé et enregistré dans un très court «buffer» de seize images de sorte qu’après la seizième image, chaque nouveau dessin s’enregistre en effaçant la plus ancienne de la boucle de seize images. En conséquence, cet ensemble de seize images est en incessante transformation et se renouvelle complètement très rapidement, dérivant constamment dans de nouvelles directions inattendues. À tout moment, en seulement seize dessins, l’univers visuel et dynamique peut-être totalement transformé.

D’un essai à l’autre, le système est devenu plus intriqué par l’addition d’autres «buffers» de différentes longueurs de sorte que le taux de renouvellement des différents flux d’images varie, ce qui permet des variations plus subtiles et plus complexes. En outre, un des «buffers» est suffisamment long pour garder en mémoire tous les dessins faits durant la performance de sorte qu’il est possible de passer d’un éventail de cycles courts à un cycle beaucoup plus long où rien n’a été effacé. Il en résulte une fantaisie combinatoire en constante transformation, très malléable et très dynamique. Je ne me suis jamais approché d’aussi près de l’improvisation absolue. C’est une expérimentation tant au niveau de la production d’animation en direct qu’au niveau du traitement formel informatique. J’ai été très satisfait de ce processus d’abord fait en atelier pour envisager de le présenter en performance publique. Cela dure 30 minutes et peut être accompagné ou bien par une trame musicale préenregistrée de Bob Ostertag ou bien avec Bob Ostertag lui-même ou, occasionnellement avec des musiciens locaux.

Voir également le blog.

Animation Exercises

See the video ANIMATION EXERCISE NO 13

See the video ANIMATION EXERCISE NO 18

See the video ANIMATION EXERCISE NO 19

This project started as an experiment about non-linear animation which developed away from the public eye in the intimacy of my studio. They were studio performances that I have been doing once a day for an entire week. The objective was to explore how a very short segment of evolving animation (16 frames) could relate to itself through repetition and through simple formal video processing done digitally (reversing the direction of the flow, changing speed, shuffling the order of the images, three layers compositing, etc.). The animation is done manually on a white board with a dry erase felt pen, each of the drawings is recorded in a very short digital buffer so that after the 16th drawing, every new drawing override the oldest of the existing images in the loop. As a result, this set of 16 images is changing and renewing itself very quickly, constantly heading in new unexpected directions. From one trial to another, the system grew more intricate by adding other buffers of different lengths so that the renewal rates of the different streams of images would vary, allowing for more complex and more subtle combinations. One of the buffers is long enough to keep in memory all of the drawings done during the performance so that it is possible to switch from a range of short cycles to a very long one. The result is a very malleable, very dynamic, ever changing combinatory fantasy, the closest I have been to absolute improvisation. It is an experiment both at the level of spontaneously producing the animation and at the level of the computer processing applied to it. I was happy enough with this process to start performing it in public. It lasts thirty minutes and can be done either with a prerecorded music track by Bob Ostertag or with Bob Ostertag himself or occasionally with local musicians.

Sunday 14 March 2010

The portrayal and presence of the body in animated film

Presented at the Society for Animation Studies Conference Ottawa, October 1990

by Pierre Hébert

Before I begin, I would like to define the scope of this presentation. As an outsider addressing a learned society, I feel I should emphasize that I will not be speaking as a university researcher, but as a filmmaker. I'm not trying to side-step your requirements of theoretical and historical rigour, but it is important to remember that my reflections are based on my practical experience as a filmmaker. It was my filmmaking that created the need for this theorizing and it is my filmmaking that will ultimately benefit from it. I don't see how one can make "experimental" films without this theoretical counterpoint. Thus, my primary goal is not to produce knowledge, but films. However, I hope that, imbedded as it is in the practical side of filmmaking, what I am about to say will be of some use to you.

So, on to the subject of my presentation: the portrayal and presence of the body in animated film, a rather surprising topic, I must admit. In particular, the question of the presence of the body or rather the mode of presence of the body is certainly a less obvious one than that of its portrayal. When I say "mode of presence of the body", I mean the body of the animator, the role and place it has in the creative/technical process of animated filmmaking and how it thus defines a mode of meaning that is proper to that art.

This idea of presence of the body was originally inspired by certain aspects of the work of Norman McLaren and Len Lye, which hint at a kinesthetic concept of animation. However, I will not elaborate on that here. At the time, it was merely an aesthetic bias I had that was closely related to my preferred technique of etching directly on film. It was only later through my frequent contact with dance that I came to see the question of the body as bringing into question the whole art of animated film.

ANIMATED FILM AND DANCE

When I first collaborated with dancers, I intuitively felt that beyond certain formal similarities stemming from an abstract idea of motion, which is usually not explored any further, there were fundamental differences between danced motion and animated motion. A different approach to motion. That was what I wanted to verify by watching dancers and choreographers at work, not just when they were performing but especially in rehearsal, when they were actually working on motion.

It seemed to me that the difference between the two approaches was not a function of the motion itself but, rather, of the mode of presence of the body. In dance, the motions are somebody's motions, they come directly from the body of the dancer and the energy he expends; they are literally his motions. In animated film, however, the motions seen on the screen are nobody's motions; they do not come directly from the animator's body.

This split between the physical energy expended by the artist when he animates and the kineticism observed when watching the film comes from the animator's purely cerebral process of conceptualizing motion, on the one hand, and the technological process by which he simulates this conceptualized motion, on the other hand. This results in a purely instrumental relationship between the concept of motion and the illusion seen on the screen -- an instrumentalism that is the effacement of the body.

This effacement also operates in relation to still drawings. The strokes that make up the still drawing are a materialization of the drawer's motions and the energy he expends, and thus have an unquestionable corporal value. However, this value is lost when viewing the series of drawings that make up the animated motion. It is as if the singularity of each drawing were absorbed by the effect of motion so that the viewer mentally forms a virtual image of the moving entity, at the expense of everything in each drawing that cannot be reduced to the virtual image and which therefore constitutes a sort of perceptual residue. The classic technique of standardizing the drawing from one image to the next does its best to eliminate this residue.

Thus, animated film, torn between "drawing" and "dancing", would seem to have its own distinct imaginary world without any corporal foundation. Should this art therefore be seen as a confrontation between the body and machines, a confrontation that has been aggravated with the development of new computerized images? At the very least, this would entail a fundamental debate regarding the place of the body in art, with respect to both the artist and the viewer, as a basis of communication between the two.

These were the reflections that grew out of my association with dancers. And which led to an extremist approach to animation in an attempt to overcome what I perceived as an absence of the body. It was an impossible mission that I expressed through paradoxical formulas: animate with what becomes lost when a drawing is made to move; animate with the perceptual residue instead of with the illusion of motion. This led me to undertake experiments in "live" improvised animation, in which my body in the act of animating was part of the performance.

A DRAMATURGY OF SIMULACRA

I now return to the first question the portrayal of the body whose terms were singularly modified by the considerations I have just mentioned. It could no longer simply be a question of why the body was represented graphically in such and such a way. I found myself faced with a new, more general question: Why are moving bodies portrayed dramatically by means of animated simulacra? This was a more fundamental question.

Before, when I asked myself, "What do I do when I animate?", I was frustrated to keep coming back to the founding role of technological history: I create motion image by image as made possible through filmmaking technology. Put this way, the question and its answer were trapped in an historical ghetto; the only meaning or value they have ever had or ever will have is in the period extending from the invention of filmmaking to its possible technical demise.

However, this was not the case when I asked myself, "What do I do when I draw?" I needed this new question which opened up a much broader historical perspective and did not define animation in primarily technological terms. By postulating a dramaturgy of simulacra, one lumps together animated film, new computerized images and, more importantly, puppet theatre. This is particularly advantageous for animated film since it thereby gains a history that is both universal and thousands of years old.

ANIMATED FILM AND PUPPET THEATRE

There are many obvious dramaturgical affinities between animated film and puppet theatre: relative freedom from the law of gravity, unrealistic treatment of time and space, fairly stylized characters, strong influence of plastic arts, similar narrative forms, etc. Just based on these similarities, it seems surprising, if my information is correct, that no historians of film or puppet theatre have ever thought to point up the continuity between these two disciplines.

They only look at the question from the point of view of transfer of particular techniques, that is, the use of three-dimensional figures or ombres chinoises in animated film. There is no doubt that these comparisons are relevant and historically justified: Czechoslovakian animated marionettes have their roots in the national tradition of puppet theatre and Lotte Reiniger was fully aware that she was continuing the tradition of shadow shows. However, this approach ignores the overall dramaturgical relationship that exists between the two disciplines over and above specific technical similarities or differences.

It is also significant that the two disciplines find themselves in similar situations in contemporary cultural life, both being thought naturally suited to children. Anyone who tries to appeal to adults (and thus, in the order of our societies' cultural values, to practise fully recognized arts) runs up against a chronic problem in reaching the target audience, if not outright indifference from them. This leads to the same apologetic discourse about what a varied and rich potential these arts have and what a pity it is that they are treated like poor relations. While prejudices, historical circumstances and the rigid organization of our cultural life are all real causes of this distressing situation, I feel this constitutes only a superficial explanation.

It is therefore interesting to note that traditional puppet theatres were intended for adults as well as children. It is also interesting that in the West these traditions pretty well disintegrated with the appearance of industrial societies. At the same time, with the introduction of compulsory schooling and child labour laws, there developed a children's world that would henceforth be distinct from that of adults and have its own forms of entertainment, one of which was puppet shows.

The history of Guignol, the French equivalent of the Punch and Judy show, is a perfect example of this. Initially created as working-class theatre, it degenerated into a stereotype of the children's puppet show. By the time moving pictures came on the scene, themselves a product of the industrial revolution, the change in puppet theatre was already complete, so that animated film largely targeted the same juvenile audiences from the start. I feel that the underlying explanation for this resides in the very nature of the imaginary world created by these disciplines and its place in our techno-scientific civilization, which brings us back to the question of the body.

EFFACEMENT OR DISSIMULATION

The comparison of animated film with puppet theatre is particularly interesting from the point of view of mode of presence of the body, since this question is at the heart of the puppeteer's dramatic art and technique. His art always consists in giving life, or the appearance of life, to an inanimate figure while hiding his own body.

Most often, as in the Western traditions of marionettes and hand puppets, the puppet theatre or booth is designed to hide the manipulator from the audience. In other cases, such as Japanese bunraku theatre, where the manipulation is done in full view, the manipulators' art consists in making the audience forget their presence, as if they did not exist. In certain traditions, the puppets themselves which are meant to come to life are surrounded in mystery and are carefully hidden from public view when they are not performing. Just as the manipulators hide when they give life, the puppets are hidden when they are lifeless.

Thus, the dissimulation of the puppeteer's body constitutes the mainspring of his mode of meaning. It is what makes it possible to symbolically give life to a simulacrum that remains inert without the gestures of the artist but must appear as if it had its own life independent of its manipulator. There is thus an interdependence between the two questions posed at the beginning of my presentation: portrayal of the body by means of a moving simulacrum, and presence of the body based on its dissimulation.

This helps to explain what in animated film seemed to me to be an effacement, an absence of the body. The dramaturgical process is undoubtedly the same and has the same animist intent. However, there is a technological revolution between the two. In the case of the puppeteer, the dissimulation is deliberate and requires specific technical training. There is also a direct kinetic relationship between the motions of the manipulator and those of the simulacrum. This, however, constitutes a technical limit to what is theatrically possible.

Unlike the puppeteer, the animator does not give his own life to his characters. He does not have to hide his body, nor train himself to do so, nor, like the puppeteer, does he have to be aware of the key role of dissimulation in his art -- it is an automatic, unthinking effect of the technical process, so that the dissimulation seems like effacement. However, it was this technical process that made it possible to cast off the restraints imposed by the theatrical context and push the animist intent much further. Any departure from real time and space or metamorphosis in the form of the characters became relatively easy to achieve, without the ingenious tricks needed to obtain the same effects in the theatre.

This throws a different light on my extremist approach to animation, since the effacement is no longer measured against the total presence of the body dancing, like an enormous lack to be overcome. That is only one aspect of it. The effacement of the body now appears like an unconscious form of dissimulation. Now, my aim as an animator is not to go to any lengths to assert the total presence of the body in animated film, but to reaffirm it as dissimulation.

NEW IMAGES AND SIMULATION OF THE BODY

Computer animation opens a whole new chapter in this history of the dramaturgy of simulacra. Here, the presence of the body, as I have defined it, is reduced even further and the problem of portrayal is radically changed. It is strictly from these two perspectives that I will consider computer animation; I am not questioning its multifarious applications, which are undeniable. What we have with computer animation is simulations of the real, which aim for perfection. In its most extreme form, this type of animation tries to create synthetic virtual actors -- perfect simulacra.

Michel Larouche gives a good summary of the underlying ideological aims of this simulation project in an article entitled La surréalité des images de synthèse (The Surreality of Synthesized Images) (24 IMAGES, No. 43). After bringing up "the possibility of one day being able to synthesize the body of any person, dead or alive, so that the viewer cannot tell the difference between reality and simulacrum", he adds that "once realism is attained, this paves the way to total surrealism".

One might doubt the feasibility of this from a technical, not to mention theoretical, standpoint, but it is significant just that the project has been formulated, that it has been swallowed whole without any serious critical examination and that considerable resources have been invested in research that takes a "positive scenario" for granted. In the same article, the author says, "Such a perspective leaves one puzzled on many counts....But let's look at the positive scenario." Apparently that is the full extent of his puzzlement! This scientific optimism is based both on the belief of a possible identity between the simulacrum and the thing simulated, and also on a longing for the origins of art: "Thanks to computer graphic techniques, art now has the possibility of returning to its original source, to the stage preceding its separation from science."

Here, technical considerations give way to an anthropological problem: what is the purpose of the dramaturgy of simulacra in our day and age? Or, rather, how does its own particular imaginary world operate? To answer this, one would have to do an historical anthropological study of the dramaturgy of simulacra, look at the different forms it takes in different societies and see how the distinctive imaginary world of this dramaturgy operates in and on these societies. That's well beyond the scope of this presentation. I have reached the limits of what I can do as a filmmaker; to explore this any further, I would have to become a researcher. I will therefore confine myself to explaining the hypotheses that guide me as a filmmaker.

SIMULACRA AND MAGIC

It seems to me that dramaturgies of simulacra do two things. First, they are animist; they confer the appearance of life on the inanimate. And second, in so doing, they create imaginary worlds that are exempt from the laws of the real world; they allow us to escape into fantasy. Although not all use of simulacra can be systematically reduced to a magical function, their underlying motivation is nevertheless related to magic, and that is how they are perceived and enjoyed by the audience.

Moreover, it is recognized that the oldest puppet theatre traditions often had to do with magical, ritual, mythical or religious practices: portraying the gods, petitioning the gods or recounting origins. However, one would still have to determine how the use of puppets differed from other theatrical practices involving live actors with sacred functions, and how the puppets also served other functions, such as social criticism. Nevertheless, one can say that in the traditional theatres, the magical aspect (whether implicit or explicit) had considerable social value for all members of society, including adults, although the technical means of giving the appearance of life to the puppets may have been rudimentary. The symbolic force of the portrayals was such that there would have been no point to the perfect illusion so sought after by computer animation.

Nowadays, the opposite is true. The effects of magic and fantasy have been pushed much farther, the illusion is much more convincing and spectacular, but the symbolic force of the portrayal has disintegrated. The animist effect is no longer experienced, except by children. Adults willingly admit they feel like kids again when they watch animated films, with a nostalgia for childhood that is also nostalgia for paradise lost.

This paradoxical situation was brought about by the subversive effect of techno-scientific empiricism the dominant ideology of industrial societies and by the effacement of the body stemming from the technologizing of the dramaturgy of simulacra. And there is no hope of reversing the course of history. There is no use in dreaming of a renaissance of the sacred function of simulacra in its traditional form.

THE SACRED IN TECHNOLOGY

In reflecting on the current state and the future of the arts of moving simulacra, one cannot disregard technology. Which is not to say that one should subscribe to the technological messianism so common today. In this respect, it is not sure that the sacred has totally disappeared from simulacra; it may simply have shifted place. While puppets, the drawings that make up animated film and the virtual beings produced by computer animation can no longer aim to portray the gods, it is not out of the question that the machines themselves secretly constitute a modern, unacknowledged image of God, so that the sacred continues to play a part in the dramaturgy of simulacra.

That is how I am inclined to understand computer animation's goal of "one day being able to synthesize the body of any person", which is nothing less than a belief in the possibility of a total, formalized (i.e., mathematicized) knowledge of human nature so as to be able to symbolically create man in a virtual form indistinguishable from reality. It is interesting to note that for the time being we are only able to portray humans as machines, in the image of the god-machine. The scientific and technical appearance of this undertaking does not in any way alter its ideological basis. Thus, animated films are only one step in a process of dematerialization and decorporalization extending from puppet theatre to computer animation. As for puppet theatre, it necessarily remains essentially corporal. Although, under the influence of our times, the place of the body has become unclear there too. In the magazine Marionnettes published by Unima-France and issue No. 51 of the magazine Jeu, one finds a recurring concern with the status of the puppeteer -- whether he is a simple manipulator or a full actor, hence the popularity of visible manipulation. This confirms the ambiguous situation of the dramaturgy of simulacra today.

So, where does this leave me as an animated filmmaker? As I indicated at the beginning, my response will be my next film. It will not be conclusive and will resolve nothing with regard to history or theory. For my work, what I need is to find answers, or at least practical solutions, to the following questions: What purpose can simulacra serve today? How can they be reimbued with symbolical force that is neither nostalgia for the sacred nor technological messianism? How can we compass this reference to the sacred which seems to be consubstantial with animist art? And to this end, how can technology be put to the test of the body and vice versa? And how can a dramaturgy based on dissimulation be reoriented toward a body/mind subject seeking its voice through its very effacement? It's a paradoxical undertaking, and I don't know if it's possible, only that what makes it meaningful is that it's a paradox.

Translated by: Janet Chapman Secretary of State, Translation Bureau, Montreal

Answers to Mohamed Ghazala (March 2010)

1-why Pierre Hebert is different ?

Fundamentally, I am different just like anybody is different. But it is true that my standing in the world of animation is quite special. Not many people know me, I think, and for those who heard my name, I probably sound like a strange outsider. I generally don’t follow much of the rules that are usually considered as the criteria of good animation. I am very attached to the idea of animation but I don’t think many animation films live up to what the idea of animation is, to its importance. So I don’t feel very comfortable in the world of animation and I guess this is why I do all those things where I use animation outside the usual field of animation. I am not always sure that I was right to follow that road. It may be a presumptuous attitude. My work is seen by quite a number of people, especially the performance work I do, but it is always in different contexts, different types of music scenes, visual arts contexts, new media contexts, I am always an outsider everywhere and I sometime feel isolated.

2-why you chosen Animation as a main way to express your art ?

I choose animation by accident. I was supposed to become an archeologist and things did not work out as they should have and I found a student job at the National Film Board of Canada and I stayed there 34 years. I started in the wake of the big animation renewal after WW2. Cinema as a whole was experiencing big changes. I was in a group of young filmmakers and I chose animation because I knew how to draw, because I went to meet Norman McLaren and he explained to me how to scratch directly on film. There was a whole set of positive circumstances. The gap between live action cinema and animation was not as deep as it became later on. There was also a good connection between animation and experimental cinema. Those were all things that I liked but they all progressively vanished and animation became more of an artistic ghetto. This is the way I felt it. So for myself, I wanted to continue to consider animation as a part of cinema as a whole and as a part of experimental cinema because this is how I discovered it and adopted it. But sometimes I feel that I choose animation by mistake.

3-what is the difference in the direct animation techniques to make you choose it ?

I came to animation through the direct technique of scratching directly on film as I learned it from Norman McLaren and Len Lye. So from the start my relationship to animation was essentially a relationship with direct techniques. For myself, I cannot conceive another way of being an animator. I like direct techniques, and more particularly the direct technique of scratching directly on film, because it is very physical, because it is very crude both in term of graphics and it term of continuity (the flow of time), also because it is a delinquent technique, it is a sort of challenge thrown at the face of the legitimate technology of cinema. It is very critical in all the meanings of the word and it puts the artist in a critical situation. There is an element of danger to it. This is probably because of this that it was quite natural for me to try do live animation performances. Doing performances of animation brings all those aspects of direct techniques to a point of paroxysm, to their more extreme development. I like to practice animation as an extreme form of art, I like to think of it as the sharpest point of cinema.

4- how you start to plan you art pieces (films,clips, installations ,performances )?

I never really worked from storyboards, just once or twice I think. Not more. I try to approach the development of my pieces as if I was a writer, diving into the flow of time as it comes and see what happens, or as if I was a dancer who find the shape of its work through improvising. So there is not real planning ahead of time. My work is more organized around approaching a problem from all sides in a physical way rather than around telling a story. I was very lucky to work at the National Film board of Canada because it was possible there to maintain this approach. In the industry, this is absolutely impossible. Now that I am an independent artist (for the last ten years), I do this more radically than ever before. Most of the time when I start something, I have no idea what the outcome is going to be, if it will lead to a performance, an installation or a film…or nothing…or stuff to write about. My last film, Triptych, started as studio performances that I was doing just by myself, not in front of a public in order to test an new way of setting up my performance software. I got caught by it and started to do a new performance everyday, which I was recording. So I was accumulating a lot of material that I found interesting but I did not know what to do with it. The film arose from working on the problem of how was it ever possible to compose something out of all those improvisations. Not an easy problem actually which raised many question that I considered fundamental. So while I was trying to find a practical solution more for the sake of experimenting – I was not at all sure that there would be an actual film – I started to write to describe my process. At one point, I realised that suddenly a film had appeared and I also found myself in the process of actually writing a book about it, which lead to a performance project called Animation Exercise which I started to do publicly, which also lead to reintroducing scratched animation along with computer processed live animation in my performances, etc and so on. Mind you, this is probably the most radical experiment I ever did in my creative life. This is the ideal way of working for me.

5-The Animation performances, how hard or how easy is it? What is the future of performance of animation in your opinion? Live animation performances are difficult because they contradict all the reasonable ways of doing animation. Everything goes to fast for the kind of activity animation is, even with a lot of experience, you are constantly threatened to be out of control. This is not a natural thing to do. To do it you have to be really obsessed by the question of what you are going to find if everything goes too fast and you loose control. It is like jumping through a window not knowing which floor you’re on. There is also the aspect of confronting the technology, of creating a strong adverse relationship with the machines. I find this important because «relating to machines» is probably one of the most important problem mankind is facing. So there is an ethical dimension in putting yourself on stage displaying such a confrontation. This is the way I see it. There is a lot of live cinema performance going on (the development of technology made all of this much easier) but most of the time (like vj’s) it consists of manipulating already existing clips or automatically generating moving images through algorithms. I don’t know of many other people doing it the way I do it, i.e. creating the flow of images with my hands at the same time I am processing it. This is very extreme, it has a meaning for me to do it, I resent it as a necessity, but since it is so extreme, I don’t think we can say there is a future to it. It is sufficient for me to say that it has a meaning in the present moment.

The Utrecht declaration

Highly personal thoughts on the state of animation By Pierre Hébert

The circumstances in which I am writing this article are quite special: that of being a jury member at a festival competition which grants equal importance to narrative and non-narrative animation - which, as far as I know, is a precedent. Since most of my films fall into the latter category, being involved has a quite emotional resonance for me.

In addition to which, I find myself at a turning point in my career. After 34 years, I have left the National Film Board of Canada. No doubt I had to remove myself from any kind of institutional framework to be able to reposition myself, as much in terms of my own work as in terms of what animation is becoming today, and negotiate a path between fidelity to the long-held beliefs of my youth and a willingness to confront the great changes which are currently taking place. Indeed, loyalty isn't enough. Overall, I have tried to position myself on the artistic side of film more or less in opposition to the other side, that is the side of commerce and industry. That might seem clear enough, but when I try to specify what I mean, it all becomes much more complicated.

Experimental film, non-narrative film, abstract film, auteur animation, are all categories which are conceptually quite different, but which in practice intersect. Most of my films fall into one or the other of these descriptive boxes. The term "auteur film", which is both vague and all encompassing, nonetheless corresponds to a quite precise historical reality. The term was coined after the Second World War, reaching its height in the 60s, and concerns animation as much as it does live action. But today auteur film is undergoing a crisis of identity. So am I.

As far as animation is concerned, this movement to assert the notion of auteurship defined itself in several areas at the same time. 1- The classical technique of drawn animation on acetate cel, which had hitherto been "the" canonical form of animation, was overtaken by a real explosion of direct techniques. Technical inventiveness has long been the impulse prompting many significant and important works, and inspired a whole generation of animators. 2- Similarly, there was an outburst of graphic styles drawing directly on the inexhaustible possibilities to be found in the history of art. 3- We invented a history for ourselves, rehabilitating the great pioneers, such as Emile Cohl and Winsor McKay, and creating a pantheon of heroic figures such as Alexander Alexeieff, Norman McLaren, Len Lye, Jiri Trnka and others, filmmakers who had done the groundwork and whose inspiring work shone out like beacons. 4- We created institutions to fight for this new vision of animation, festivals such as Annecy, and an international organization of animation filmmakers, ASIFA. 5- Significant geographical areas emerged which were not subject to the rules of the market and where production organizations with relatively substantial resources were given free rein: for example, Eastern European countries and an institution such as the Canadian National Film Board. In the USA, the period also saw a significant movement led by dissident Disney filmmakers. Conversely, there was a temporary decline in industrial animation production, which allowed for the whole heritage to be recycled via television, which was growing in popularity.

These circumstances encouraged an unprecedented creative outpouring almost everywhere. What emerged has left us a legacy of masterpieces which now constitutes our historical perspective in terms of "auteur animation". It was during this climate of euphoria (which also existed in live-action cinema) that I became a filmmaker and I remain strongly attached to the guiding ideas of that time. I am not a historian, and my point-of-view is subjective and ambivalent. One the one hand I see this period as an absolute, with an enduring firmament of stars but also, on the other hand, as an accident of history, eminently transitory. Because in effect, although the rhetoric celebrating animation which dates back to this era has persisted, things have changed a great deal and in such a way that in my view the would-be unanimous and justificatory discourse, which prevailed for a long time, is no longer enough.

The industrial context has changed. In fact, commercial production for television eventually experienced a period of unprecedented expansion. It involves enormous financial interests and has brought about an international division of labour which takes advantage of the cheaper workforce in Asian countries. This has had various consequences, although not all of them are negative. 1- Not only has the production of auteur films been terribly marginalized in relation to the all-conquering march of commercial production, but it has become difficult to define what exactly is an auteur film other than in nostalgic reference to the golden era evoked above. This makes the whole area something of a internal minefield. 2- It has led to a global demand for specialized labour skills and the establishment of numerous schools. This development is, in general, subject to the requirements of the industry, but, by the same token, it creates a vast pool of young professionals who will not all want to remain within the standardized confines of commercial animation. But for the moment, auteur film production seems to be well-placed in the schools. But how often do we wonder, seeing so many brilliant graduation films, whether we will see any follow up! 3- We have witnessed the disappearance or weakening of the privileged spaces which gave the production of auteur films a critical mass. I am thinking of the enormous upheavals in Eastern Europe, and also the erosion of places like the National Film Board of Canada whose resources have melted away like snow in the sun. Festivals have proliferated and diversified and ASIFA has been somewhat marginalized and lost its regulating role. 4- More profoundly, the internal frame of reference of animation practice is changing radically. The widespread use of digital tools has definitively confounded the once established typology of techniques. The use of computers has brought about a kind of free zone where all anterior techniques can virtually communicate at the same level, similarly with the various formats and distribution channels, film, video, digital video, CD-ROM, DVD, internet, etc. Technical creativity takes on a whole new dimension. The development of special effects has eroded the boundaries between live-action and animated images, reiterating the decisive importance of animation principles to the invention of cinema. Video games, pop promos, the internet move the goalpostsin terms of what can be called a creative work.

Commercial products constitute the vast majority of all the above, but nonetheless the fact remains that the animated image, as such, is undergoing profound and rapid mutations – which in itself is something neither positive nor negative. That is why is it is of no use to simply wish auteur animation back to the ways and values of yesteryear. But beyond making such observations, what should one do?

I have no magic solution, and, clearly the question raises different issues for me, who as a young man experienced this golden age and for whom, 40 years in the job, it remains a reference point, and for those young people who are now taking up this discipline and from the outset accept what it has become. Luckily for them, they have the unrestrained insouciance and all the energy of youth. For my part, and for all those of my generation, I imagine there is the requirement for a degree of wisdom, the responsibility of conveying that tradition whilst recognising the actuality of the present.

There are small, almost unnoticed, things in the developments over the last 40 years which bother me a great deal. The first is the disappearance of the relationship that existed at the turn of the 60s between the then-new live-action cinema and animation, a very real and reciprocal awareness. It was this relationship, for example, which led François Truffaut to recognize a great filmmaker in Norman McLaren. The loss has been on both sides. Caught in its claims to realism, live-action cinema has not managed to retain awareness of the position the concept of animation occupies in the technological matrix that formed the basis of cinema. As for animation, it has let itself drift into an embittered, corporatist and willful isolation, valuing good craftsmanship and good animation and slightly losing sight of the philosophical position that underlies the act of animating.

The second thing has been the loss of the equally problematic connection between animation and experimental film. The fact that, on the one hand, Len Lye's Free Radicals was made for the Knokke le Zoutte Festival and that, on the other, a Stan Brackhage has always remained outside animation circles is a pertinent illustration of the two aspects of this rupture. I believe the result has been the subsequent absence of a connection between animation and video art and, more generally, contemporary practice in the plastic arts.

These are small, apparently very minor things, but which are profoundly bound up with what can make an art form of animation and which in this respect should be resolutely re-established. I use the phrase "what can make" advisedly, since the "art" of animation shares the same ambiguity as the other technological arts in their relationship to the technical devices which make them possible. There is no way to nuance dealing with the conundrum that, in a sense, not all animated images can claim the status of art, and the fact that the artistic potential of an animated work inevitably depends on the very nature of its apparatus or device (both technical and conceptual). It thus becomes very difficult, within the traditional categories, to decide where art begins and ends in animation, and in cinema generally. The difficulty arises from the fact that the apparatus of film is more than a simple tool that can be reduced to its instrumentality. And there is, in the very terms "apparatus" or "device", an implicit reference to a complex organization involving technology, skills and social relationships, which from the outset institutes a relationship with the world and which always provides something other than a natural image of it. This is all the more true of animation where the machinery is obvious and unconcealed. Hence, the setting in motion of these devices, rooted as they are in technology and its vertiginous mobility deemed "progress", as it already carries a weight of meaning in itself, all the more so as it dramatizes in a pure and rarified form that which is the infernal centre of the life of modern humanity, the multi-faceted experience of technology.

When one says "magic of cinema" or even "magic of animation", this tends to indicate the totality of what is produced using these devices, not only that segment one can define as a work of art. Hence the difficulty of finding solid criteria to discriminate between what is art and what isn't and, by extension, that which is auteur cinema and that which isn't.

In light of these considerations, the comprehensive assertion that "the" cinema is an art, or that "the" cinema of animation is an art, seems false to me. It seems more appropriate simply to say that cinema, and animation, "can be art", that through their apparatus they intrinsically contain a potential for art but that this potential requires a decision to become actualized. And in my view, the aesthetic and ethical impact of this decision depends on the setting in motion of the apparatus being also the invention of a conception of technology, however implicit and non-formulated it might be. That is, for example, the great strength of McLaren. One might as well say that what might be art and auteur cinema must always be re-made and invented anew today, in the context of what audiovisual technology and its social insertion is becoming.

To return to my opening remarks, I would add that it is probably in non-narrative animation that this issue arises in its purest, most extreme and most theoretical form. That is said not to denigrate the other dominant forms of animation, but to emphasize the specific and irreplacable position of non narrative film, analogous to the position poetry occupies in the language arts, dance in the theatre arts, and music in the time-based arts. Shorn of the filter of anecdotalism, it sets out to be an always singular, always timely, thus always historical experimentation with the invigorating relationship between language, corporeality and technology, where voice, body and machines combine in an ethical simulation of contemporary life.

Pierre Hébert Independent filmmaker, publicist and performing artist of live scratched animation.

Wednesday 24 February 2010

Only the hand... - list

  • Video installation in twelve languages, Norman McLaren exhibition hall, Cinémathèque québécoise, December 3-20 2009, Montreal. See the VIDEO.
  • Muku mititshi..., Solo performance «Only the hand...» en Innu, Cinémathèque québécoise, December 4 2009, Montreal. See the VIDEO.
  • Mininj eta..., Solo performance «Only the hand...» in Ojibway, at the Winnipeg Film Group Cinematheque, October 30 2009, Winnipeg, Canada. See the VIDEO.
  • Sol la man..., Solo performance Only the hand... in Romangnolo, Romagna's regional language, at Area Sismica, October 3 2009, Meldola (Forli), Italy.
  • Solo a mano..., Solo performance Only the hand... in Romanesco, Rome's regional language, at the INIT Club, September 29 2009, à Rome.
  • Nor di hant... Solo performance Only the hand... in Yiddish , at Théâtre de la Vieille grille, September 18 2009, Paris.
  • Emi... key hemá Solo performance solo Only the hand... in Paiute, at the University of California in Davis, April 22 2009.
  • Nape kin lece Performance with live music by Stefan Smulowitz and Viviane Houle, Only the hand... in the Lakota language , 15e Rendez-vous du cinéma québécois et francophone de Vancouver, à Performance Works, February 14 2009, Vancouver.
  • So a mao... Solo performance Only the hand... in Portuguese, at the auditorium of the fine arts faculty of the Lisbon university, February 6 2009, Lisbonne.
  • Nor di hant... Solo performance Only the hand... in Yiddish , at the Théâtre de la Vieille grille, February 4 2009, Paris.
  • Enkel de hand... Solo performance Only the hand... presented in Flemmish, at the Vooruit, January 29 2009, Gent, presented by Courtisane.
  • Solo la mano... solo performance Only the hand... in Italian, Catania, Italy, May 21, 2007, ZO centro culture contemporanee.
  • Solo la mano... solo performance Only the hand... in Italian, IO PROJECT (Investigation about Ontology, http://www.ioproject.eu/), Macchiagodena, Italiy, May 17, 2007. See VIDEO-1 and VIDEO-2 (images of Pierre Hébert in performance) and the PHOTOS by Petra Benovsky
  • Seule la main... solo performance, International Short Film Festival of Saguenay, Canada, March 15 2008.
  • Seule la main... solo performance, for the opening of the conference Pratiques orales au cinéma, Octobre 24 2007, Cinémathèque Québécoise, Montreal.
  • Seule la main..., solo performance, March 29, 2007, St-Joseph University, Beirut,.Lebanon. See the VIDEO (in French).
  • Seule la main……, solo performance , March 16 2007, Toronto International Festival of Short French Films, Drake Hotel, Toronto.
  • Only the hand…, with Stefan Smulovitz, February 27,. 2007, Cinematic Manoeuvers, Emily Carr Institute of Art and Design, Vancouver. See the VIDEO (in English).