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The roaring 20s by Muthoni ‘Noni’ Maina

Written by Sandra Nekh

As a passionate aficionado of the camera, I have found myself eager to venture into new realms of photography, having recently picked up photography again, I had the pleasure of delving into monochrome photography during a Great Gatsby-themed soirée hosted by esteemed Kenyan writer, Muthoni Maina. This, Prose Books, experience not only brought me to the glamour of a bygone era but also offered profound insights into the artistry and nuances of monochrome imagery.

Monochrome photography is characterised by its timeless allure and classic aesthetic, can be traced back to the roots of photography itself, the 19th century. The invention of the daguerreotype, monochrome photography, quickly gained popularity capturing form in a singular palette of tones. Over the years, monochrome photography has evolved into a venerated art form, celebrated for its ability to evoke emotion, highlight texture, and convey mood in ways that transcend the constraints of colour.

Starting my monochrome photography journey for the Great Gatsby-themed party came with its own set of unique considerations and challenges. Unlike colour photography, where vibrant hues and contrasts often take centre stage, monochrome imagery relies heavily on light, shadow, and composition to convey its narrative. This caused a heightened awareness of lighting conditions, as well as a keen eye for detail and framing. Luckily, I had a small portable LED light that parked on the top of the camera, providing additional lighting solutions, and giving the images that burst of light, that mimics the old light bulb. You need a deep understanding of the tonal range and contrast, and balancing highlights and shadows. Tonality and texture help to achieve the desired aesthetic, since it is the roaring 20s after all.

Besides technical proficiency, this form of photography demands a nuanced appreciation for the subject and storytelling. Each frame becomes an opportunity to freeze a moment in time, capturing expressions, gestures, and emotions through careful composition and thoughtful framing, I sought to mark each image with the spirit of the Roaring Twenties, paying homage to the opulence and sophistication of the era. I may have fumbled here and there, but it was worth every frame.

This was a challenging and well appreciated exploration, one that left me yearning for the next time I would practise in monochrome imagery.

#Photography #Monochrome #Filmmaking 

20th February 2024

Audio-visual media beyond what we hear and see

Written by Sandra Nekh

In audio-visual media, we engage in both listening and watching, but what happens in the space of transcendence, beyond these two senses? Let us discuss it. 

This article tackles the psychological (secretion of hormones) and physiological reactions to film that feed into physiological responses, thus bringing film full circle, meaning you can experience the audio-visual media with all your senses. Audio-visual media is a culmination of content and process; in this way, the narrative is a story, the content. What makes it audio-visual media is the employment of resources and method to tell the story, the discourse, Tzvetan Todorov’s Narratology. But these two together ―content and discourse― jar the audience in a way that they can remember. One way to do that is to tap into the psychology of your audience and push that same audience into a physiological reaction.

• Sarafina (1992): When they sing. I dance, I laugh, I cry. I feel happy with the lighter musical numbers and sad in the darker notes. When I am sad, I get chills. I feel cold.

• Apocalypto (2006): I feel sad. I am disgusted by some of the violent scenes. I feel nauseous, and my stomach churns.

• Dune (2020): I feel breathless; the largeness of everything in this new realm makes me feel like my lungs are larger. I can barely draw a full breath to fill them.

• Ambulance (2022): I am short of air and anxious. The camera work, the lighting, the movement, everything has me on edge. 

I remember audio-visual media by how my mind and body react to it. My mind made me realise this feeling, and my body responded. I remember the psychological trigger and the physiological changes in your body that showed that effect. Chills, goose bumps, sweats, breathlessness, moving of limbs, ticking, crying, laughing, etc. These are examples of how audio-visual media transcends the senses of hearing and seeing. 

As an audio-visual media creator, you need to make films that affect your audience psychologically, making them feel more from your reel, by tapping into their emotions to truly connect with them. You need to make their bodies churn from the inside, make them wonder, ‘what the hell is happening to me?!’ But, how do you do that? 

An excellent Korean drama is like going to your therapist; I recommend It’s Okay To Not Be Okay (2020). At the height of the Covid 19 Pandemic, a Korean Drama was making its way into our homes through Netflix. It was dark and mysterious, while still being quirky and funny. But most of all, it was real. Someone asked me why I like this drama so much; I remember saying, everyone is flawed in this series. No one is perfect, and they are healing. Every single character is on a journey to heal from their traumas. When the world was in a pit of despair, this drama taught us to heal. In the end, I was recovering from the trauma I had relayed in the box, ‘do not touch or else, we will finally snap,’ that has me myself and I. By the last episode, I had catharsis, personal catharsis, and extrinsic catharsis, relating to the narrative. 

A case in Dune (2021)

Audio-visual media has to tap into the unresolved psychosis of its audience, allowing them to experience intense emotions through the story and its presentation. In Dune, directed by Denis Villeneuve, ‘Duke Leto of House Atreides, ruler of the ocean planet Caladan, is assigned by the Padishah Emperor Shaddam IV of House Corrino to replace House Harkonnen as the fief holder of Arrakis, a harsh desert planet and the only source of “spice”, a valuable substance that gives its users heightened vitality and awareness. It is critical for faster than-light interstellar travel, as it grants Spacing Guild Navigators the limited prescience for safe navigation.’ 

‘Leto’s concubine, Lady Jessica, is an acolyte of the Bene Gesserit, an exclusive sisterhood whose members possess advanced physical and mental abilities. As part of their centuries-long breeding program, they instructed her to bear a daughter whose son would become the Kwisatz Haderach, a Bene Gesserit and messianic super being with the clairvoyance necessary to guide humanity to a better future. However, she bore a son, Paul, to their disappointment. Throughout his life, he is trained by Leto’s aides, Duncan Idaho, Gurney Halleck, Suk doctor 

Wellington Yueh and the Mentat Thufir Hawat, while Jessica trains him in Bene Gesserit disciplines. Paul confides in Jessica and Duncan that he is troubled by future visions.’ Courtesy. 

The Duke Leto of House Atreides’s son Timothée Chalamet’s character Paul fears, and the ride is one to remember. In the description above, we can feel the weight of responsibility on the young man’s shoulder. In the film, this responsibility is built up and hyped to where I felt that pressure, in shy anxiety. And when the quarters in Arrakis are attacked, in the muffled sound of violence and the embers of a dying city, I too step into the desert with Paul and his mother, Lady Jessica. Here we truly see Paul’s fears. His visions do not have his father, who was left behind at the siege. Without his father’s physical presence in the tent and his vision, Paul crumbles, forced into revelation by the weight of everything and the curiousity of a concerned mother. 

What we see and hear:  

Location: Paul and Lady Jessica are sequestered in a tight tent in the desert to face a tough night. A tight, dark space, a space where vulnerability can be shown. 

Proximity makes the space much more intimate, feeding into our perception of what is about to happen. Paul loses himself to his emotions as he is forced to deal with his real feelings on his position in their apocalyptic scape. 

Action: We watch Paul delve into a vision, high from the “spice” in the tent. A montage of his visions checkers his meltdown as he narrates what he sees and his fears. Shots: In a series of close-ups and montage scenes, the film effectively guides the audience into Paul’s fears. In the close-up, we see his emotional build-up. His uncertainty, fear, and ultimately, his anger. By the time tears drip down his face, we as the audience are roped in the emotion, and when we see tears fall down his mother’s face, the audience is at an emotional height. In the ‘story within-the story’, the montage, the filmmakers run as though a lapse of events; an unknown woman with blue eyes, her peaceful aura, and the ease of her demeanour, her attire all suggest something calm. Then the intrusion of war, as we travel past the woman to overlook war. We close in on an adept soldier, and in a close-up, it is revealed to be Paul, with blue “spice-affected” eyes. We see a cutaway of a daga. A wide shot of a stack of burning  bodies. We get some relief from the escalating montage  to see Lady Jessica looking at her son as tears fall down  her face. We get back to the montage, to another series of  highly affecting events. A close-up of a hand dripping  with blood. An army and a grey sky. A large vessel, a  powerful vessel, the chants of war. 

Paul’s final reveal, “A war in my name, everyone shouting my name.” The film craftily merges Paul’s reality with this montage, showing an escalation to more violence. 

Sound and effects sound:

Besides situational sounds such as weapon clanking and the wind blowing in the desert, etc. Grand cinematic music pushes the limits of the tiny tent into the larger spaces of Paul’s montage of visions. The filmmakers move us from a low drone to a heightened experience in sound. Elevating our emotions ease and calm as we see the woman in Paul’s vision, to heightened energy as we witness the devastation of war in Paul’s vision, to the final blow, when even Paul succumbs to his emotions, and when we finish the montage. Paul rests in his mother’s arms. We are calming down from the high of the scene as the score dissipates. 

The choices in what we see and hear all feed into that cinematic experience, the nudge to pull in all our other senses. Every choice is selected to push the audience into a psychological or physiological reaction. Paul’s narration scored adeptly. His fear is expressed in thoughtful close-ups. The choice to have his emotions subtly expressed at the beginning of the scene and not so subtly at the end of the scene with his final outburst of anger and not fear. The music captivates us while shaping the story and supporting the audience’s understanding. The audience rides a wave of emotions with Paul, feeling his fear through every cinematic choice and the content of the story itself. 

Watch this scene and the whole film again, l let me know what you feel, psychologically and physiologically. I will keep mine to myself; what I can say is that I was affected. Nobody: Challenge, accepted! 

Conclusion: 

When an emotion is conveyed influentially, the work can tag at the audience’s heartstrings, thus pulling their other senses into the audio-visual experience. This is good, very good indeed. Amazing cinema should easily prompt the audience to laugh, cry, or experience an emotion; amazing cinema should make you cold, seek warmth, and want a hug. A good film should engage one’s hormones and get some of that cortisol and dopamine pumping. 

The effects of audio-visual media are individual. A few years ago, my friends and I went to watch IT 2 at the theatres; after the first film, I already had some expectations of the film, a classic sort of VR horror experience, and I grew up in the 80s and 90s, so darling, I eat this genre up! So we went in, and I had a fantastic time; the only time I felt off was at the domestic violence part, but otherwise, I was enjoying myself. My friends, not as much. I was laughing, owing, wowing, feeling all this, and my body felt relatively light. One of my friends got nauseous, and the other zoned out. She left the theatre feeling drained. Our bodies reacted to the same film differently. The Emotion Theory states that our interpretation of these same physiological cues can differ depending on the individual.

One of the best experiences in cinema is 3D+, I get headaches, but I go back because of the feeling of it all. In films like Dr. Strange, I have to take a painkiller for the impending migraine, but I still go because of the feeling. I get sweats and increased energy with films like John Wick. 

The idea is that the film can make your body have notable physiological effects. With adrenaline comes increased respiration and heart rates. 

As a creator in the audio-visual media, endeavour to nudge your audience into this space of hyper-awareness, where all their senses are triggered. Leave them wanting more from you or entirely running away from you. *Evil laugh* This way, you are memorable in more than just the audio and the visual. 

Cheerio.

Image credit Playgroun AI.

#Film #Filmanalysis #Filmmaking 

7th June 2022