<-Previous page      Next page->

  • 1859
  • When Worlds Collude
  • Fred Worden: "...modern masters at mid-career"
  • The After Life
  • Here
  • Everyday Bad Dream
  • Throbs
  • North Shore
  • Time's Arrow
  • One
  • REVIEWS of Fred Worden Films:

    Senses of Cinema

    Stop Motion: Transformation and Stasis at the NYFF’s Views from the Avant-Garde
    The 9th Annual Views from the Avant-Garde October 1–2, 2005
    by Jared Rapfogel

    Fred Worden’s Here (2005) demonstrated a totally different approach to the transformation of an existing film (or films). Starting with excerpts from two separate sources, a Laurence Olivier film and Georges Méliès’ Voyage dans la lune (A Voyage to the Moon) (1902), Worden sets these unrelated excerpts in confrontation with each other, alternating between them so rapidly that, despite their unmistakable dissimilarity (the Oliver images are in colour and consist largely of galloping horses, while the Méliès excerpt is of course in black and white and involves a very theatrical artifice), they form a dynamic fusion, an exhilaratingly rhythmic composite image.

    Meanwhile, the soundtrack contributes its own contrast, countering the furious montage by means of a gentle, calm, contemplative music. Worden manages to create a strange kind of calm and harmony through motion and discord. His use of the Olivier material is especially witty and suggestive – by looping and endlessly repeating these scenes of galloping horses, Worden decontextualises them, removing any sense of the horses travelling through space, progressing anywhere. They become simply an embodiment of perpetual motion, and their constant running takes on a paradoxical quality of stillness, a phenomenon which extends to the perpetual montage of Worden’s film. (Appearing in another program was a second, less successful Worden film, Blue Poles (2005), a wholly abstract piece which fills the screen with what appear to be white sparks, variously suggesting scraps of burning paper floating away from a fire, frost crystals on a window, or the visual phenomena which appear when holding one’s eyes shut tightly – a beautiful, haunting effect, but rhythmically monotonous over the film’s 20 minutes, and marred by a distracting electronic soundtrack).