same dilemma by showing his films over and over. Kubelka's obsession is that people have to know everything about his work. It's a little totalitarian to insist that people look at your work over and over, but that's a matter of style. I'd like the same thing, only I wouldn't want to force you into it.
To get the audience to look at films that are proposing different conventions, you first have to disabuse people of their ordinary conventions. Then you have to introduce them to the new conventions. Only then can they see the film the way the artist expressed it. Filmmakers of our ilk have to wait for the public to get educated to the conventions of this kind of filmmaking, but while we wait, our conventions are usurped and absorbed into mainstream cinema. I think most of the pioneer filmmakers of this kind of filmmaking have been fucked. They were pioneers and didn't get to cash in. Some of them are bitter and disappointed.
On the other hand, I think it's fatuous to set yourself up as a pioneer and point at yourself narcissistically and assume everybody's going to congratulate you. It's a self-serving attention-getting process that doesn't guarantee good art. You just look around, see what nobody else has done, and do it. In itself that's not something to be appreciated.
Another Cage idea I picked up on and have used as moral support is that you have to do what you perceive to be the
thing. That can get you into the position where you're doing something that nobody's ready for, so that you get dumped on. But it's excusable that way. If it's just an attention-getting process, you deserve oblivion.
I think the problem with setting oneself up as a pioneer is that so much is always going on in so many places. There are precedents for just about everything.
Absolutely. There's always a context for what you do. Ideas float in the air like the flu, and a lot of people get them at the same time. The reason for doing something new is the simple excitement of getting new life out of an old form. And that's enough of a reason.
When I said that I thought that many film artists have gotten fucked, I was referring to the enormous power of consumerism. Take the use of dense groups of different single frames that I came up with in
. I've never claimed any firsts for that, and I became aware of
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precedents maybe subconsciously before and consciously afterward, in Leger and [Dimitri] Kirsanov, and occasionally in [Dziga] Vertov. I've never made any case for that device in itself. It's basically a gimmick, but if you carry a gimmick as far as I did, it becomes a style of sorts. In the sixties I was watching the Smothers Brothers on TV. On one of their shows they introduced some guy who then proceeded to show the history of art in thirty seconds with a single-frame kaleidoscope of images of paintings. Well, I had done that in
specifically with art history and a series of images of landscape paintings. It was just one ingredient of
. But here was the device on the Smothers Brothers show, with some kind of crappy music to go with it. The whole thing was one big joke, and it made me very unhappy. It wasn't so much an envy/greed reaction. It was that the newness of that feeling had been simultaneously introduced and disposed of, totally thrown out the window and on a grand scale. I could never imagine myself reaching all those people across the country with more serious work using that device, so it was depressing.
Recently a case has been made on our behalf. Birgit and Wilhelm Hein put together a show of so-called pioneering films and special effects for the Berlin Film Festival, to show how these special effects have been absorbed. I haven't seen any program notes, but they asked for
. I don't know what the other films are.
Of course, it goes the other way too: a lot of things in avant-garde film were done first by totally anonymous commercial people, who did their work without any long-term recognition either.
Good point. I went to an advertising agency one time, and they said, ''We like your stuff a lot, but our clients are very conservative.' The guy there cited the case of Len Lye and his little Chrysler film: Lye was given an award for the best advertising film of the year, by whatever society or committee does that, but the award was withdrawn because Chrysler hadn't accepted the ad, which wasn't broadcast and so wasn't eligible for the prize. Lye was very bitter about it. He thought he deserved that award, and then he had to be contemptuous of it at the same time. Lye had had big audiences at the beginning; his films ran in first-run theaters, and then later he had to become this 'elitist,' far removed from all that.
On the
sound track there are voices apparently talking about the Stockhausen performance.
I took stuff out of the actual performances; you hear the participants. The voice at the end criticizing the film was an English actor.
Stockhausen hadn't been there for the performances, so he hadn't seen the finished film. Later he came out to my house with Mary
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Bauermeister (they were married at the time), and he was enthusiastic about the film and claimed to be enthusiastic about the sound track. He said he was inspired to make a new sound track for it by chopping up all of his sound compositions collage-style to fit the film. I was flattered, and we talked a little bit about it, but it never happened. I always wondered whether he just wanted to get rid of that critical voice. He was a famous, impossible egotist, though in spite of that we were friendsalthough I found him intolerable at times: my own egotism versus his, maybe. At the world's fair in Osaka in 1970 he did the German pavilion. We were staying in the same hotel and ran into each other. I described our Pepsi pavilion, with thirty-seven speakers around our dome, and he said he had forty-seven, or whatevermore. It got to be ludicrous, that kind of jockeying for superiority.
