“It is our duty to pray
always for harmony between man and earth…”
-Excerpt from A Hopi Prayer for Peace
Before the technological
explosion of social media outlets like Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and
Pinterest, photography was relegated to the traditional worlds of commemorative
mementos, photo journalism, advertising, and art. While the undeniable element
of commercialism is present in each of these forums, the search for Truth
(what’s really happening) and Beauty (what is ideal) served as the primary
motivator in still photography. Motion pictures, on the other hand, explored
this realm briefly before dedicating itself completely to the narrative commodities
of Hollywood films, propaganda, and
infotainment. Photography is about documenting and beautifying; filmmaking is
about telling and selling.
Sprouting
out in this cracked juncture between the two like-but-different mediums, the
avant-garde documentary thrives like a weed. Godfrey Reggio, the pioneer and
arguable father of the avant-garde documentary, has bridged the viewing
experience of photography and film in his highly-acclaimed, highly-dismissed “Qatsi”
film trilogy: Koyaanisqatsi (1983), Powaqqatsi (1988), and Noqoyqatsi (2002). Over the course of the
three films, Reggio tells the story of our world and our people with only one
word uttered per film, the title of each installment. Reggio’s films, like so
many despised weeds, catch our eye and fascination almost against our own will.
To some, his work falls into Susan Sontag’s “negative epiphany” trap: raising
conscience to crises we cannot impact in any way. Others, in Sontag’s line of
thought, have called his vision “banal” and “cliché” – as the images of
pollution, over-population, and war are already all too familiar to us (Dempsey
14).
Reggio,
on the other hand, eventually made his intentions clear off-camera –
proclaiming his films are about “the lunacy of living,” how technology is
“something we live,” and, ultimately, how “the image has become more real than
the reality” (Wise 3). Like the
flickering images on the wall of Plato’s Cave that the dwellers accepted as
reality, Reggio’s films present “the world you live in” in a way “you’ve never
really seen” (LeCinephobe). Reggio even included painfully-slow zoom outs of
meticulously-yet-primitively-crafted ancient cave drawings within the first Qatsi film to visually emphasize and
establish this point: we’re still accepting the images on the wall as reality. Viewed
by many as propaganda for activism to save the environment, Third World, or
what have you, the Qatsi trilogy has
been defined by both critics and the filmmaker himself as a forced
retrospection and helpless acknowledgement of where we’ve been, where we are, and where we are headed. Reggio, his followers, or
even his critics have not acknowledged how his use of still
photography viewing experiences within a film serve Reggio’s higher purpose. Until
now, no one has explored how the Qatsi
Trilogy is a heartfelt invitation to
contemplate, meditate, and pray for humanity.
“Lose your shyness, find your
tongue, Alleluia!
Tell the world what God has
done, Alleluia!”
- Excerpt from Christian Brothers’ prayer song, There’s a Spirit in the Air
Born
in New Orleans in 1940, Godfrey Reggio would join the Roman Catholic pontifical
order of the Christian Brothers at the age of 14. As a monk, Reggio lived a
very strict life consisting of silence, fasting, manual labor, and study. Even as a young adult monk, Reggio linked
image with the Divine, as he explained in his own words: “I collected holy cards, not baseball cards…”
(Dempsey 2). During his years of religious service, Reggio became increasingly
involved in social activism, which upset his religious superiors. In an attempt
to decrease his growing involvement in secular activities, Reggio was asked to
relocate to Rome to work in the Christian Brothers archives. Instead, Reggio
left the order at age 28. Reggio does not
regret entering or leaving the Christian Brothers, as it gave him a different
point of view of America (Burr 26). Reggio’s next life-changing event was a
screening of Luis Bunuel’s film Los
Olvidados (The Young and the Damned). Reggio was deeply moved by the film’s
surreal storytelling of two young Mexicans who venture deeper and deeper into
the criminal world. Reggio was in awe of the film’s disregard for entertainment
and its focus on a social issue. He called the act of seeing the film a
“spiritual experience” (Wise 1). Years later, Reggio was introduced to
television and film production when he helped establish the Institute for
Regional Education (IRE) in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Much of his IRE video and
film work explored technology’s control over society – a theme Reggio would
claim is the thematic heart and soul of his renowned Qatsi film trilogy.
“O, the Astonishing Spectacle we then had before our eyes,
of the vanity of our best estate in this life!”
-
Excerpt
from Benjamin Colman’s A Devout Contemplation
Each
film within the Qatsi Trilogy is
named after a Reggio-invented word using parts of the Hopi Indian language. While
each “qatsi” name is animated in a beginning opening title sequence of each
film, the definition of the title isn’t explained until the end of the film
with onscreen graphics (see figure below) . All three films feature a Phillip
Glass score with minimal vocal accompaniment. There is no sync/natural audio
coinciding with action or images onscreen. The imagery featured in the films varies
in content, but is best described as documentary footage of the world and
civilization with on-camera subjects ranging from landscape to portraitures to
pop culture media. Both Koyaanisqatsi
and Naqoyqatsi feature a significant
percentage of pre-existing footage (also known as “found footage”). Various film critics and reviewers are quick to
note that the Qatsi films have no
setting, no characters, no dialogue, and no plot. While it is overwhelming to synopsize each Qasti film, a brief understanding of
each film is necessary in light of this argument regarding Reggio’s intentions
for the films.
Koyaanisqatsi has been called everything
from a hypertext to a head trip (Essid 1). When it premiered at Radio City
Music Hall as the opening selection of the 1983 New York Film Festival,
audiences were simultaneously confused and inspired by a film with no plot,
setting, characters, dialogue, or narration.
Even with Francis Ford Coppola’s name as the “presenter” of this new work of
art, Koyaanisqatsi was a risky film
to make and was deemed by most as “unreleasable.” With soaring imagery of the
unpopulated deserts to portraitures of Americans from all walks of life, Koyaanisqatsi seemingly left no stone
unturned for thought-provoking content. The film’s
use of time lapse and motion-controlled photography of weather, traffic, and
television broadcasts inspired a generation of commercial, cable television, and music video directors (Burr 13). Mimicry of Reggio’s
lockdown, sped-up time lapse cinematography of clouds swirling in a frenzy over
the countryside, the moon sliding behind a glossy skyscraper, and car
headlights streaking over and underpasses have been seen on many cable networks
including QVC, The Weather Channel, and MTV.
While Reggio didn’t create time lapse, extended open shutter, or double
exposure shooting techniques required to achieve these visual effects, he made
them popular and hip among influential film and television industry leaders. Koyaanisqatsi went on to receive
considerable critical acclaim and awards, grossed nearly twice its budget within
the first decade of its release, and is considered required viewing in most
film schools. The subtitle of Koyaanisqatsi,
as listed on its MGM DVD case, is “Life Out of Balance” (Reggio, 1983). In short, this film sets up a trilogy centering
on how technology itself is becoming the environment. Technology is no longer
“something we use, it’s something we live” (Wise 3).
With the financial backing of both
Francis Ford Coppola and George Lucas and twice the budget of the first Qatsi film, Powaqqatsi (1988) would feature original documentary footage
captured in Kenya, Egypt, Peru, Africa, India, Asia, South America and the
Middle East (Sterrit 1). While critics championed the film’s embrace of diverse
cultures and religions, as well as its praise of hand labor, craftsmanship, and
wishful return to nature, Powaqqatsi barely
made one-fourth of its budget at the box office (Dempsey 8). The film was
considered by many to be the sophomore slump of Reggio’s filmmaking career, however,
Powaqqatsi produced the most recognizable
music track of the trilogy: Anthem, Part
3 – which won an ASCAP Film and Television Music Award for its reuse in the
Jim Carrey dramatic feature, The Truman
Show (1998) – suggesting that, at the very least, certain elements of this Qatsi film are the most accessible to
the mainstream moviegoers. Powaqqatsi
also possessed a distinct structure. Inspired by the Berlin Wall, Reggio
structured the film in two distinct sections to tell his story of “Life in
Transformation” (Reggio, 1988). The first focused on present-day cultures using
minimal technology.
The second section illustrated the
human and environmental cost of progress and reliance on technology. (Shapiro
125). Powaqqatsi’s structure solidified the overall “Life” arc of the
trilogy from “Life Out of Balance” to “Life in Transformation” to, ultimately,
“Life as War.” Powaqqatsi also
clearly pointed to the Qatsi films’
spiritual intent with shots of praying people of
various faiths and other inspirational imagery guiding viewers to contemplate
the “obvious relevance… of the spiritual aspect of life” (Shapiro 106).
Naqoyqatsi (2002), subtitled “Life As
War,” is the concluding installment in the Qatsi
trilogy and is seemingly as bleak as its title. Film critic Alan Burdick describes the film
as “a dizzying journey that evokes genetic enhancement, crowd violence,
television advertising, urban decay, rural decay, and the overall
digitalization of society…picture The
Matrix on acid (2).” Others explain its theme as “the human endeavor
devoted to self-destruction” (McCarthy 2) and “the loss of everything of
diversity and individuality…the Los Angelisation of the planet (Wise 3).” Financed
by Academy-Award-winning director Steven Soderbergh, nearly 80% of Naqoyqatsi is created from found footage
of television news feeds, videogames, internet media,
and industrial films (Reggio, 2002). The shortest film in the trilogy with a running
time of 89 minutes, Naqoyqatsi is the
first Qatsi film to feature original
computer-generated animation and Yo-Yo Ma’s cello solos. Despite all these
“marketable” aspects to the film, this installment is the weakest box office
performer of the three Qatsi films, grossing just over $133,000 domestic with
an estimated budget of $3 million (IMDB.com).
Despite this dismal performance at the
box office, Naqoyqatsi’s imagery and intended
message is indeed haunting and hard to ignore. Plus, Reggio’s collaboration with
Glass, Soderbergh, and Naqoyqatsi
editor Jon Kane proved fruitful. Visitors,
another avant-garde documentary film by Reggio, Glass, and
Kane and presented by Soderbergh, is due for release in 2014.
“…He is as a word which comes out of
your mouth.
That word! It is no more, it is past,
and still it lives! So is God.”
-
Excerpt
from Bantu prayer
Due
to the still life misé en scene of the Qatsi
films, Godfrey Reggio has been referred to as a “vital link” across the chasm
that now separates still photography from cinema. As culture critic Carlo McCormick
proclaims: Reggio is “our greatest hope for recovering cinema as a pure
pictorial language capable of relating its own stories outside the realm of
words” (13). The pure pictorial communication of ideas and themes has been
explored throughout film history. In the opening placards of his 1927 film Man with a Movie Camera, filmmaker Dziga
Vertov referred to himself as both an author and experiment supervisor who
aspired to create “a truly international language of cinema based on its
absolute separation from the language of theatre and literature” (1927). In the
1950s, the Left Bank Group of the French New Wave film movement referred to
themselves as “cinematographic essayists” (Taylor 74). Chris Marker, a leading essayist in this
movement, made several documentary and narrative films that mainly consisted of
still images with audio accompaniment – the most well-known of these works is
the renowned science fiction short La
Jetee (1962). In his article “Writing with Images…”, Andrew Taylor refers
to films that employ mainly still imagery as “still/moving forms” that allow
“more space for audience interaction and emotional response than conventional
narrative cinema” (59). Taylor further explains that when filmmakers mix both
still photography and film footage, they are creating Film-Photo-Essays. A key
aspect of the Film-Photo-Essay is its ability to provide “pensive moments” via
a freeze frame or still image over a certain period of time within a film. This
pensive moment prompts the viewer to have an emotional reaction to the image
and its sequential placement within the overall film. By utilizing these
pensive moments, filmmakers hope to communicate their vision on the determined
topic and inspire the viewer to think and act upon the cause at hand. According
to famed film theorist Siegfried Kracauer, photography and film were predestined to
inspire viewers to improve our world since both mediums share a “redeeming
physical reality” that must be used “to save civilization from its compulsive
indulgence in abstractions brought on by science” (Pennley 66). An awareness of
humanity’s growing “reliance on science” is at the core of the Qatsi trilogy’s message, but it is not
its sole purpose.
“In your love you have given us the power
to behold the beauty of your world
robed in all its splendor.”
-
Excerpt
from Jewish Prayer for Hanukkah
Koyaanisqatsi begins with a
“slipstream of landscapes images all but hallucinatory in their pellucid,
unpopulated clarity” (Dempsey 2). As the
film progresses, we see humanity ignore its environment with passive acceptance
of mechanization. Time-lapse photography likens speedy subway commuters on
escalators to hot dogs careening through a meat-packing assembly line. While cinematic treatment of vistas usually convey landscape as a medium unto
itself with “exchange, focus, and formulation of identity” (Mitchell 2), Reggio
juxtaposes spacious deserts with clogged subways to stress humanity’s dangerous
disconnect with the natural world. Powaqqatsi
works in the same way, only the dichotomy is much more severe. The first half
of the film displays cultures
that are less tech-infused and more merged with nature. Upon the arrival
of an unusually long freight train that continuously rolls through the frame
for several minutes at the half-way mark of the film, it becomes clear that the
“beast god of modernity” has arrived. From that point forward, Powaqqatsi illustrates how technology
has become our new environment, as natural as the air we breathe (Dempsey
9-10). Naqoyqatsi continues this
bleak exposition of humanity’s commitment to technology, tying it into our
collective lust for control and power via war, videogames, entertainment, and
science. Reggio claims he saw the Qatsi
vision years before he was a filmmaker saying: “America was becoming
rootless…the family was dying…it wouldn’t be long before we had a technological
society” (Burr 26). Ironically, Reggio’s observations of a world gone wrong with
technology have been recorded with the most advanced filmmaking tools of its
day. Yet, even with critics’ grasp of the trilogy’s meaning complete with
Reggio quotes to support their claims, they still struggle with the purpose of
the films. “The filmmakers,” Burdick gripes, “offer no insight and admit they
are portraying the devil using the devil’s own digital paintbrush” (2).
“…May I realize the Path of
Awakening,
For the sake of all beings.”
-excerpt from Buddhist Mealtime Prayer
“I
wanted to see the familiar for the first time, to stare at it until it was
strange,” Reggio explained as his intent with the Qatsi films, “To do this, I had to hold a mirror to the world (McCormick
29).” Through his films, Reggio takes advantage of people’s conditioning to see
our world in a “type of comfortable but lazy perceptual ground (Shapiro 53).” Our
modern-day minds quickly process each shot in his films and cry “Next!” in a
rushed desire to move onto the next morsel of information. Still, by employing
pensive moments such as long, fixed camera angles on casino waitresses staring
into camera or a single sheep that is virtually cloned before our eyes (see
images above), Reggio suspends time, thereby forcing the viewer to “perceive
the flow of visual information as a process of contemplation.” This forced
contemplation awakens something buried deep down inside us that we can’t
readily explain. These films, as McCormick points out, circumvent the mind “by
accessing the heart and soul through the senses (McCormick 29).” It is through
this forced contemplation – via a myriad of shots ranging from majestic barren
landscapes to staring contests with children of the Third World – that Godfrey
is inviting the viewer to pray.
“I recognize you are the temple
In which my spirit and creative energy dwell.”
-excerpt from Affirmation to My Body, Hindu
Prayer
has been defined by many different religious organizations. Many people
understand prayer as “talking to God.” Buddhists, however, do not believe in
God, but they do pray to “enlightened beings” for healing and guidance. Yet all
who pray – regardless of their religion – are attempting to communicate with an
entity or entities they believe are real (Chilson 8). Reggio, as a one-time
member of the Roman Catholic Christian Brothers order, believes God is real and
prayer is an acknowledgement of God’s presence in words, action, or contemplation. For Catholics, prayer is also
considered a gift from God to be accepted and utilized. Reggio has indirectly
positioned the Qatsi trilogy in a
similar fashion. “The films are offered as a gift,” Reggio explained, “not a
point of view” (Wise 1).
Both
direct and indirect references to religious icons appear throughout the Qatsi films. Various critics claim that Koyaanisqatsi provides “God’s eye
perspective” on the modern world with sweeping, aerial views of massive
waterfalls, desert canyons, and ant-like portrayals of congested cities. Powaqqatsi’s procession of open pit mine
workers is said to be “Christ-like” and the moment in the film when the viewer
is “entering a dimension of the mystical, the holy, or the supernatural”
(Shapiro 114, 73). Naqoyqatsi is more
abrupt, barraging the viewer with a series of corporate logos intermixed with
the Christian cross, the Star of David, the Star and Crescent, and so on.
Powaqqatsi illustrates people in prayer
and contemplation more than any Qatsi
film. The first montage occurs after several long takes of smiling children in
a nondescript city slum starting directly into camera for an extended period of
time. The children are followed by a Buddhist, then a Muslim, and then a
silhouetted figure pondering the sunset at the ocean’s edge. These images, as
Shapiro explains, convey “a certain universality of spiritual need and
expression” (83). Just like the figure in the film staring at the sunset, the
viewer is staring at the movie screen conscious of the visual meaning before their
eyes, but wordless in response (Tuzik 12). The viewer has entered contemplation
alongside the religious figures within the film.
Several
minutes later in the film, Reggio combines images of children again with
religion. Children dressed in tattered clothes stare at the camera while riding
a primitive Ferris wheel. This scene is intercut with shots of more Muslims at
prayer and a Hasidic Jew kissing the Wailing Wall. Powaqqatsi keeps repeating this pattern: children looking directly
into camera followed by religious figures.
This repeating
pattern is the core of the Qatsi
trilogy. In Koyannisqatsi, Reggio
established cinema as a vehicle for prayer with pensive Film-Photo-Essay
moments of awe-inspiring, uninhabited landscape and casino workers, subway
commuters, and jet pilots staring directly into camera. This guided looking at the awesomeness of
nature and man is directly out of the Bible. “O Lord, our Lord, Your greatest
is seen in all the world!...When I look at the sky, which You have made, at the
moon and the stars, which You set in their places – what is man, that You think
of him…Yet You made him inferior only to Yourself…(PSALM 8: 1, 3-5).”
Powaqqatsi also highlights God’s majesty
in creation as well as his presence within a variety of people, but centers on
obvious religious figures or poor children – who
represent the ultimate citizens of Heaven. “Amen, I say to you,” Jesus teaches
his disciples, “unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter
the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest
in the kingdom of heaven (MATT 18:3-4).”
Naqoyqatsi showcases how humanity has
sacrificed this humility for its lust for war, power, technology, and science. As
a result, most of the Naqoyqatsi
landscapes are crumbling, war-torn structures – similar to the fallen “Babylon
the Great” of the Book of Revelations (REV 18: 2). However, the call to prayer
through cinematic face-to-face contact remains. The most memorable Naqoyqatsi people staring into camera
are not human at all, but wax figures representing various politicians and
military commanders. And yet, the viewer can contemplate humanity while staring
at the wax sculptures. This appreciation of technology and art’s ability to
evoke pensiveness can elevate the viewer to a higher level of communication
with the Divine. In this sense, the Qatsi
films are the same as the wax figurines – both art and artificial – with
a holy purpose to connect the viewer to a higher reality.
While
the on-camera presence of faithful people engaged in prayer and meditation are
obvious markers of the need for prayer in the world, the extended shots of
people looking into camera represent the most earnest call to prayer. Through
these portraitures that break the fourth wall between the filmed and the
filmgoer, Reggio is drawing our attention to the God’s own concealment within
our world. As Father Haggerty writes in his book Contemplative Prayer: “When [God] shows himself, it will be in
camouflage and shadow, the glimpse of his face not recognized until later…A
poor man’s face, uncomprehended at the time, leaves our souls disquieted,
longing for God and not knowing why…Christian revelation is the mystery of
divine personhood gazing at us from a human face (Haggerty 28, 31).” Like the
holy cards he collected in his youth, Reggio’s Qatsi films are visual aids for communicating with the Divine.
“Praise be to the Lord of the Universe
Who created us and made us into tribes and nations
That we may know each other,
not that we may despise each other.”
-
Muslim Prayer For Peace
Technology
is often cast as the villain in the Qatsi
trilogy, but it is not the sole cause of our sufferings. Rather, the villain is
modern day humanity’s “certain poverty of spiritual intelligence” due to its
reliance on technology (Haggerty 41). Since technology has become humanity’s
“way of life” as a constant companion in the pursuit of knowledge and
distraction, the search for God within the world and within each other offers
seemingly no practical purpose. As a result, this call to prayer is ignored. Similar
to the many social media participants who become less social in reality,
citizens of the post-Qatsi world have
accepted “the image as more real that reality” – just as Reggio and Sontag predicted.
Luckily for us, the recognition of humanity’s lack of interest in prayer and
its growing interest in technology inspired Reggio to make technically-advanced
films that lead us to prayer. The Qatsi
films are slick evangelistic maneuvers – placing the works and faces of God
before viewers under the guise of a feature-film documentary. Reggio – along
with his Qatsi film crew – continue
to make films that dazzle and aggravate viewers, stirring their souls. Their
latest film, Visitors, is due out in
2014. What is the visual content of the
film’s trailer? Beautiful, high definition video footage of people staring
directly at us. Perhaps
this prompt will inspire viewers to communicate with the Divine in each of us. After
all, one can only hope…and pray.
