Transcinematics: Collaborative Transformational Filmmaking

Transcinematics. The origins of the term emerged with the inception of The Grey Man project: The project that eventually became The Gaps Between.

If you prefer bullet points there is a list below that you might find helpful, otherwise this is as good a place to star as any.

As I say, transcinematics is cinema that goes beyond, it was the first time I had felt the idea with a certain conviction. I was overwhelmed. It happens sometimes when I get an idea, or at least, when I perceive the range of an idea. Inevitably feeling marooned by the inadequacy of language; forced to communicate a coexistent manifold of potentialities in a linear sequence of utterances.

Oh well, beggars can’t be choosers I suppose.

 

So, definitions…

O   Transcinematics is about transformation.

O   It is about you and it is about me and it is about us.

O   It is about using film as a medium to reflect people, as individuals, or as a group, back to themselves and/or to others.

O   It is about exploration and a collaboration.

O   It is about challenging oneself; to do that which you would not normally do, to say that which you might not normally say, to make that which you might not normally make: To play beyond the edges of your own assumptions.

O   It is about expressing yourself freely, but not without direction.

O   It is about doing something unique, participating with people in a way that generally doesn’t happen in day to day life.

O   It is magic.

O   And it is about a search

for joy,

or meaning,

or value,

or strength,

or all,

or some,

or none of the above.

It is sort of what you choose to make it

And you are sort of what it chooses to make of you.

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Of course none of this is binding, or even guaranteed. It does however illustrate that this mode of working does go beyond what most people do with video cameras, both in the scope of how our content is created, how it is filmed and framed, and how it is delivered; how it finds it’s way back to the world.

It is not quite like anything else. At least not yet.
Yours in anticipation,

 

Clive Austin

 

 

                        all material © 2014

Film: Human Nature

Human Nature was a commission through a department of the NHS that deals with mental health in Devon. It was very low budget, covering one days filming and two days editing (plus expenses).

Our interpretation of the brief was to trace a line from the south coast to the north coast in a single day, approaching random strangers we encountered on the way and asking them an approximation of the following question:

“What is your philosophy on life?”

 

We paused halfway and filmed the sky until the sun broke through. We had planned that much. Why? Well, because that was what the day suggested to us, and because there is beauty in the sky, and it is symbolic of thought, and the sun breaking through the clouds works as a metaphor, and so do the silver linings on the clouds, and the camera left on auto going in and out of focus. It wasn’t planned that way. We shot it like that because it felt like the right thing to do. Pretensions to cleverness can abound in the wake of such moments of inspiration. It can be all too easy to take credit for something, that in truth was suggested by the world, by the subconscious responding to it; the intersection of elements, time and space conspiring.

It was a good day. If nothing else it reminded us of how generous people can be, how open and how genuine. How we have all overcome something to get to where we are. What value there is to be found in reflection and what beauty in the stories of lives.

 

Yours in reminiscence,

Mr X

 

                        all material © 2014

The Great Walk: Conversations

It was one of those party’s that started in the middle of the afternoon. One of those parties where those attending are old enough to know how to pace themselves to make it through to breakfast the following morning.

We were in costume; a future imagined by imaginary Victorians – steam powered, tea driven, opium crazed adventurers, delighting in the whimsicality of the post colonialism of it all. Or at least I was.

At about six in the evening that an attractive aviator handed me this…

Map Tube

“Read the label.” She said.

MapTubeCathy2

…it said.

She smiled as I un-scrolled the contents of the tube.

MapGiftCathy1

“That is Fantastic!” Was my response.

Those who have seen the film will get the joke.

She then ordered two more copies of the film, we talked for a while longer and then parted.

Suffice to say it was an interesting trip home.

 

Two days later I received a text from her.

It said: ‘Retraced Anton Vagus walk in Exeter up Prospect Steps.’

This is a level of engagement with the film I had not expected but absolutely delight in.

 

My current definition of art is this:

That it speaks of a soul, or it speaks to your soul.

I am beginning to think that this might be because, in what each of us calls art, we recognise a soul; a complete experience, one that might be changed or altered by it’s context but retains something that withstands relocation; it can stand by itself.

The Great Walk appears to be just that for some people. There are people who appear to be in conversation with it, beyond any relationship they have to those of us who made it.

I like that.

In fact I think it’s rather great.

So thank you all for playing.

Yolo.

Mr X

 

 

 

all material © 2014

Caution: Wet Floor

Yesterday I watched a man walk into a shop and trip over the ‘Caution: Wet Floor’ sign. I pondered that perhaps a larger sign signalling the potential danger of the first sign might be an amusing addition, finally concluding that if we were to take all the danger out of life there would be no challenge to it.

 

Thank you for listening,

Mr X

 

 

all material © 2014

Routine vs Adventure

Well, routine is essential in small doses, and without repetition my sense is that I would still be asking people to help me on with my shoes. But aside from the education aspect, it is the repetition of mundane tasks, the endless dishes, the washing – clothes go on, get dirty, come off, go in the wash, dry, put them on again, repeat. Don’t get me wrong, I love clothes. I love clean clothes even more.  For me adventure is an attitude. As I said before, without time to recognise the remarkable all I start to see is the mundane. Washing clothes I find mundane.  So it is not the routine. I like having routines, almost as much as I like having clean clothes. But I like having the freedom to abandon old worn out routines and build new ones. To not have to wash clothes for an indeterminate amount of time would give me the freedom to contemplate the majesty of the cosmos. Stain removal has just never done it for me in that way. For me then it is the repetition of routine that stifles my capacity to recognise the grand adventure that, in my more forgiving and grateful moments, I truly perceive this life to be.

And no, the irony is not lost.

 

Mr X

 

 

 

all material © 2014