OK I’M SORRY NO I’M NOT LOL AHA
Yeah so I love Waiting for Godot and Jean-Luc Godard.
Despite my disdain for puns…one should never pass up a silver platter.
On to more pressing matters, much of the reason I am here is a result of Godard.
I am the fugitive running from the camera, clambering, slowly stumbling through the street.
Barely trying but only really failing at giving up, until there is nothing left to give.
It’s a poetic end to an iconic film. This was an image I carried with me.
I could cite Nam June Paik’s comment on culture. I will: The culture that’s going to survive is culture you can carry around in your head. Arthur Jafa talks about Black music being living proof and the greatest example of the notion. It’s hard to disagree. But many images hold that mantle in many memory palaces. (The idea that our minds store memories in a palace where we can store and access images, information and ideas).
The jump cuts of the car scene occupy that position in my mind.
The nothingness of À bout de souffle kills me. I love it tenderly and it is because of Godard’s many works that I have come full circle to….
A pedagogy of images.
That the first text I selected in the first exercise would bring me back to my cinematic godfather is poetic justice.
The works I wish to emulate are somewhat different. But this is a gallery of Godard’s notion ‘It is necessary to confront vague ideas with clear images’
Voila,
Idées vagues/images claires:
