Anthony Vidler_the explosion of space.pdf

8/21/2019 Anthony Vidler_the explosion of space.pdf

1/17

The Explosion of Space: Architecture and the Filmic ImaginaryAuthor(s): Anthony VidlerSource: Assemblage, No. 21 (Aug., 1993), pp. 44-59Published by: The MIT PressStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/3171214

Accessed: 16/01/2010 16:58

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use, available at

http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp. JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use provides, in part, that unless

you have obtained prior permission, you may not download an entire issue of a journal or multiple copies of articles, and yo

may use content in the JSTOR archive only for your personal, non-commercial use.

Please contact the publisher regarding any further use of this work. Publisher contact information may be obtained at

http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=mitpress.

Each copy of any part of a JSTOR transmission must contain the same copyright notice that appears on the screen or printed

page of such transmission.

JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of

content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new form

of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected].

The MIT Press is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Assemblage.

http://www.jstor.org/stable/3171214?origin=JSTOR-pdfhttp://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsphttp://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=mitpresshttp://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=mitpresshttp://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsphttp://www.jstor.org/stable/3171214?origin=JSTOR-pdf


2/17

nthony

i d l e r

h e Explos ion

o S p a c e

rchitecture a n d

t h e

F i l m i c

Imaginary

Anthony

Vidlers

Chairman f the

Department

fArt

History

t the

University

f

California,

os

Angeles.

1.

Babette

Mangolte,

What

Maisie

Knew, 1975,

film still

Assemblage

1

?

1993

by

the Massachusetts

Instituteof

Technology

I

am

kino-eye.

am

a builder.

have

placed ou,

whom

'vecreated

today,

n

an

extraordinary

oomwhichdidnot

existuntil

ust

now

when

I

alsocreatedt. In

thisroom here

are welvewalls

hot

by

me

in

various

arts

f

the

world. n

bringingogether

hotsofwalls nd

details,

've

managed

o

arrange

hem

n

an

order hat s

pleasing

nd

to

construct ith

ntervals,

orrectly,

film-phrase

hich

s the

room.

Dziga

Vertov,

923'

Since

the late nineteenth

century,

ilm has

provided

a

labora-

toryforthe definitionof modernism n theoryandtechnique.

As the modernist

art

par

excellence, t has also

servedas a

point

of

departure

orthe redefinition

of the

other

arts,

a

para

digm by

which the

different

practices

of

theater,

photography

literature,

and

paintingmight

be

distinguished

rom each

other. Of all the

arts,

however, t is architecture

hat has

had

the

most

privileged

nd

difficult

relationship

o film. An obvi-

ous role model

for

spatial

experimentation,

ilm

has also been

criticized or

its

deleterious

effects on the architectural

mage.

At a

moment when

interest

n

film

has

reemerged

n

much

avant-garde

rchitectural

work,

rom the

literal

evocationsof

Bernard

Tschumi

in

his Manhattan

Transcripts

nd

projects

for La

Villette to

more

theoreticalwork

on the

relationsof

space

to visual

representation,

he

complex question

of

film's

architectural

ole is

again

on

the

agenda.

And

the

more

so,

because

in

the search

or

ways

to

represent

movement and

temporal

succession

n

architecture,

"deconstructivist"

esign-

ers

have turned

naturally

o the

images forgedby

the

first,

constructivist,

vant-garde

images

themselves

deeply

marked

by

the

impact

of

the new filmic

techniques.

In

their

new

incarnation,

uch

constructivist nd

expressionist

mages

45


3/17

-A

, I

,

I -

-

s

..

I

I

-

I

S--

"t,

***-i-**^

^F^.,

;A


4/17

assemblage

21

seemto reframe

many

earlier

questions

about the

proper

place

for

images

of

space

and time

in

architecture:

uestions

that resonate

or

contemporary ritiques

of the

"image"

nd

the

"spectacle"

n

architecture nd

society.

When,

in

1933,

Le Corbusier alled for a

film

aesthetics

that

embodied the

"spirit

of

truth,"

he was

only

asserting

what

many

architects

n the 1920s

(like

those more

recently

n

the

1980s)

saw to be the

mutually

nformativebut

properly

epa-

rate realmsof architecture

nd film. While

admitting

that

"everythings Architecture"n its architectonicdimensions

of

proportion

nd

order,

Le Corbusierneverthelessnsisted

on the

specificity

of

film,

which "fromnow on

is

positioning

itself on its own terrain ..

becoming

a form of art

in

and of

itself,

a kind of

genre,

just

as

painting,

sculpture,

iterature,

music,

and theater are

genres."2

n

the

present

context,

de-

bates about the nature

of "architecturen

film,"

"filmic

architecture,"

r

filmic

theory

n

architectural

heory

are

interesting

ess as

guiding

the

writing

of some

new Laocoon

that would

rigidly

edraw he boundariesof the

technological

artsthan

as

establishing

he

possibilities

of

interpretation

or

projects

hat

increasingly

eem

caught

in the

hallucinatory

realmof a filmic or screened

maginary,

omewhere,

hat

is,

in the

problematic

ealmof

hyperspace.

Cineplastics

The

obvious role of architecture

n

the construction

of sets

(and

the

eager

participation

f architects

hemselves

n

this

enterprise),

and

the

equally

obvious

ability

of

film

to "con-

struct"

ts own architecture

n

light

and

shade,

scale and

movement,

from

the outset allowed

for a mutual

intersection

of these two

"spatial

rts."

Certainly,many

modernist

ilm-

makers

had little doubt

of the cinema's

architectonic

proper-

ties. From

Georges

Melies's

careful

description

of the

proper

spatialorganization f the studioin 1907 to EricRohmer's

reassertion

f

film

as "the

spatial

art" ome

fortyyears

ater,

the architectural

metaphor,

f

not its

material

reality,

was

deemed

essential

to the

filmic

imagination.3

Equally,

archi-

tects like Hans

Poelzig

(who,

together

with

his

wife,

the

sculptor

Marlene

Poelzig,

sketched

and modeled the sets for

Paul

Wegener's

Der Golem:

Wie er

in die Welt

kam

of

1920)

and Andrei

Andrejev

who

designed

the sets for Robert

Weine's

Raskolnikoffof

1923)

did not hesitate

to collaborate

with filmmakers

ust

as

they

had

previously

erved heater

producers.4

s the architectRobertMallet-Stevensobserved

in 1925,"itis undeniable hat the cinema has amarked nflu-

ence on modern

architecture;

n

turn,

modern architecture

brings

ts artisticside to the cinema.... Modernarchitecture

not

only

serves he

cinematographic

et

[decor],

but

imprints

its

stamp

on

the

staging

[mise-en-scene],

t breaks

out of its

frame;

architecture

plays.'"'5

nd,

of

course,

for

filmmakers

originally

rainedas architects

(like

Sergei

Eisenstein),

the

filmic art

offeredthe

potential

to

develop

a new architecture

of time and

space

unfettered

by

the materialconstraintsof

gravity

and

daily

ife.

Out of this intersectionof the two artsa theoretical

apparatus

was

developed

hat at once

held architecture s the funda-

mental site of

film

practice,

he

indispensable

ealand ideal

matrixof the filmic

imaginary,

nd, at the same time,

posited

film

as the modernistart of

space par

excellence

-

a vision of

the fusion of

space

and time.

The

potential

of

film

to

explore

this new realm

(seen

by

Sigfried

Giedion

as

the basis

of

mod-

ernistarchitectural

esthetics)

was

recognized

early

on. Abel

Gance,

writing

n

1912,

was

already

hoping

for a new "sixth

art" hat would

provide

"thatadmirable

ynthesis

of the

movement of

space

and time."6But it was the art historian

Elie

Faure,

nfluenced

by

Fernand

Leger,

who

first coined a

term for the cinematic aesthetic that

broughttogether

the

two dimensions:

cineplastics.

"The

cinema,"

he wrote n

1922,

"is firstof all

plastic.

It

represents,

n

some

way,

an

architecture

n

movement

that shouldbe

in

constant

accord,

in

dynamically ursued

equilibrium,

with the

setting

and the

landscapes

within which it risesand falls."7

n Faure's

erms,

"plastic" rt was that which

"expresses

orm at rest and

in

movement,"

a mode common to the artsof

sculpture,

bas-

relief,

drawing,painting,

resco,

and

especially

dance,

but that

perhaps

achieved ts

highest

expression

n

the

cinema.8For

"the

cinema

incorporates

ime to

space.Better, ime, through

this,

really

becomes a dimensionof

space."9By

means of the

cinema,

Faure

claimed,

time becomes a veritable nstrument

of

space, "unrolling

nderour

eyes

its successivevolumes

ceaselessly

eturned

o us

in

dimensions

that allowus to

grasp

their

extent

in

surfaceand

depth."i?

The "hitherto

unknown

plasticpleasures"

hereby

discovered

would,

finally,

createa

new

kind

of architectural

pace,

akin to that

imaginary

pace

"within he wallsof the brain."

46


5/17

Vidler

The notionof

duration

ntering

s a constitutive

lement nto the

notionof

space,

we

will

easily

magine

n artof

cineplastics

los-

soming

hatwouldbe no more

hanan ideal

architecture,

nd

where the

'cinemimic'

will

. ..

disappear,

because

only

a

great

artist

couldbuild

edifices hat

constitute

hemselves,

ollapse,

ndre-

constitute hemselves

gain

easelessly y

imperceptible

assages

of

tonesand

modeling

hatwill

hemselves e

architecturet

every

instant,

withoutour

being

able o

grasp

he

thousandth

art

of a

second

n

which he

transitionakes

place."

Such an

art,

Faure

predicted,

would

propel

he world nto

a

new stageof civilization,whoseprinciple orm of expression

would be an

architecture

based on the

appearance

f

mobile

industrial

onstructions,

hips,

trains,

cars,

and

airplanes,

together

with their

stable

ports

and

harbors.Cinema would

operate,

he

concluded,

as a kind

of

privileged"spiritual

rna-

ment" to this

machinecivilization:"the

most useful

social

play

for

the

development

of

confidence,

harmony,

and co-

hesionin

the masses."12

Spaces

of Horror

Criticsof the

first

generation

of German

expressionist

ilms

had

already xperienced uch a "cineplastic"evolution n

practice.

The

spate

of immediate

postwarproductions

n 1919

and 1920

(including

Paul

Wegener's

Der

Golem,

KarlHeinz

Martin'sVon

Morgens

bis

Mitternacht,

nd,

of

course,

Robert

Weine's Das

Kabinettdes Dr.

Caligari)

demonstrated

hat,

in

the wordsof

the German

art critic and New

YorkTimescorre-

spondent

HermanG.

Scheffauer,

new

"stereoscopic

ni-

verse"

was

in

the

making.

In

a

brilliant

analysis

published

at

the end of

1920,

Scheffauerhailed

the end of

the

"crude

phan-

tasmagoria"

f earlier ilms and

the birth

of a new

space.13

Space

hitherto

onsidered nd

treated

s

something

eadand

static,

amere nert

creenor

frame,

ften of no

more

ignificance

than

he

painted

balustrade-background

t the

village

photog-

rapher's hasbeensmitten nto ife,intomovement ndcon-

scious

expression.

fourth

dimension as

begun

o

evolveout of

this

photographic

cosmos.14

Thus

film

began

to

extend

what

Scheffauer alled"the sixth

sense of

man,

his

feeling

for

space

or

room

-

his

Raumgefiihl,"

in

such a

way

as to

transform

eality

tself.

No

longer

an inert

background,

rchitecture

ow

participated

n

the

very

emo-

tions of

the

film;

the

surroundings

o

longer

surrounded

ut

entered

the

experience

as

presence:

"The frown

of a

tower,

he

scowlof

a sinister

alley,

he

pride

and

serenity

of a

white

peak,

the

hypnotic

draught

of a

straight

oad

vanishing

o

point

these

exert their

nfluencesand

express

heir

natures;

heir

essencesflow over

the

scene and

blend with the

action."'5An

advance

on the

two-dimensionalworldof the

picture,

he

"scenic

architect" f films

such as

Caligari

could,

he

wrote,

dominate

"furniture,

oom,

house, street,

city,

landscape,

universe "

he "fourth

dimension"

f time

extended

space

n

depth:

"the

plastic

s

amalgamated

with

the

painted,

bulk

and

form

with the simulacra

f bulkand

form,false

perspective

and violent

foreshadowing

re

ntroduced,

eal

ight

and

shadow

combat or

reinforce

painted

shadowand

light.

Einstein's nvasion

of the law

of

gravity

s

made visible n

the

treatmentof

wallsand

supports."'6

Scheffauer

provided

a veritable

phenomenology

of the

spaces

of

Caligari.

A

corridor n an

office

building,

a street at

night,

an

attic

room,

a

prison

cell,

a

white and

spectral

bridge,

a

marketplace

all are

constructedout of

wallsat

once solid

and

transparent,

issured

and

veiled,

camouflaged

and

end-

lessly

disappearing,

resented

n

a

forcedand

distorted

per-

spective

that

pressesspace

both

backward

nd

forward,

inally

overwhelming

he

spectator's

own

space,

incorporating

t into

the vortexof

the whole

movie. In

his

description

of the

film's

environments,

Scheffauer

anticipated

all

the

later

common-

places

of

expressionist

riticism

rom

Siegfried

Kracauer

o

Rudolf

Kurz.

A

corridorn

an

office

building:

Wall

veering

utwardrom

he

floor,

raversed

y

sharply

efined

parallel

trips,

mphasizing

he

perspective

and

broken

violently by

pyramidal

openings,

streaming

with

light,

marking

he

doors;

he shadows

between

them

vibrat-

ing

as darkcones of

contrast,

the

furtherend of

the

corridor

murky,

giving

vast

distance. In the

foreground

a

section of

wall

violently

tilted

over

the heads

of the

audience,

as

it were.

The floor

crypticallypaintedwith errant ines of direction,the floor in front

of

the doors shows

cross

lines,

indicating

a

going

to and

fro,

in

and

out.

The

impression

s one of

formal

coldness,

of

bureaucratic

regularity,

of

semipublic

traffic.

A

street at

night:

Yawning

blackness

n

the

background

empty,

starless,

abstract

space,

against

it a

square,

opsided

lantern

hung

between

lurching

walls.

Doors

and

windows

constructed or

painted

n

wrenched

erspective.

ark

egments

n

the

pavement

accentuate the

diminishing

effect. The

slinking

of a

brutal

figure

47


6/17

assemblage

21

2.

Robert

Weine,

Das

Kabinett

des Dr.

Caligari,

1920,

film

still

3. Paul

Wegener,

Der Golem:

Wie er

in

die Welt

kam, 1920,

film still

pressed

gainst

he wallsandevil

spots

and

shadings

n the

pave-

ment

give

a sinister

xpression

o the

street.Adroit

diagonals

ead

and

rivet he

eye.

An

attic: t

speaks

f

sordidness,

ant

andcrime.Thewhole

composition

vivid

ntersection f

conesof

light

and

dark,

f

roof-lines,

haftsof

light

and

slanting

walls.

A

projection

f white

and

black

patterns

n

the

floor,

he whole

geometrically

elt,

cubistically

onceived.This

attic s out of

time,

but

in

space.

The roof

chimneys

f

anotherworld riseand

scowl

hrough

he

splintered

indow-pane.

A

room;

rrather room hathas

precipitated

tself ncavern-like

lines,

n inverted

ollows f frozenwaves.Here

pace

becomes

cloistralnd

encompasses

he human

a manreads t a desk.A

triangular

indow

lares

nd

permits

he

livingday

a voice

n

this

composition.

A

prison-cell:

criminal,

roned

o a

huge

chainattached o

an

immense

rapezoidal

ball.'

The

posture

f the

prisoner

itting

on

his folded

egs

s

almostBuddha-like. ere

pace

urns

upon

tself,

encloses

nd

ocusesa human

destiny.

A

small

window,

ighup

and

crazily

arred,

s likean

eye.

The

walls,

loping

ikea tent's

o

an

invisible

oint,

areblazonedwithblackand

white

wedge-

shaped

ays.

These

blendwhen

hey

reach he floorand

unite

n

a

kindof

huge

cross,

n

the centerofwhich he

prisoner

its,

scowl-

ing,unshaven. hetragedyf therepressionf the human n

space

ina

trinity

f

space,

ate,

and

man.

A

whiteand

spectral ridge

awning

nd

rushing

ut of the fore-

ground:

t is an

erratic,

rregularauseway,

uchas blind

ghouls

might

havebuilt.It climbsand

strugglespward

lmostout of the

picture.

n

the middledistance t rises

nto

a

hump

andreveals

arches

taggering

ver

nothingness.

he

perspective ierces

nto

vacuity.

This

bridge

s the sceneof a wild

pursuit....

Several

spects

f the

marketplace

f a

small own:

..

the town

criesout its

will

hrough

ts

mouth,

his

marketplace.17

Caligari,

hen,

has

produced

an

entirely

new

space,

one that

is both

all-embracing

nd

all-absorbing

n

depth

and move-

ment.'8But the filmic medium allowed he explorationof

other kinds of

space

than the

totalizingplasticity

modeled

by

Walter

R6hrig,

Walter

Reimann,

and HermannWarm for

Weine's film. Scheffauer

also identified the "flat

space"

of

Martin'sVon

Morgens

bis

Mittemacht.

Rather

han

artificially

constructed

n

the round ike

Caligari,

he

space

was

sug-

gested

by

its

designer,

Robert

Neppach,

in

tones

of

blackand

white as "a

background,

ague,

nchoate,

nebulous."19 bove

and

around his

inactive

space

that makes the universe nto a

48


7/17

Vidler

flat

plane

there is

only

"primeval

arkness";

ll

perspective

s

rendered

n

contrastsof white

planes

against

blackness.

n

Reimann's1920

film

fantasy

of

Paul

Scheerbart's

Algol,

Scheffauer

ound a

"geometrical pace."

In

this

meditation

on the

space

of

the

stars,

"the

forms arebroken

up expres-

sionistically,

but

space

acts

and

speaksgeometrically,

n

great

vistas,

n

grandiose

architectural ulminations.

Space

or

room

is divided

nto

formal

diapers,patterns, quares, pots,

and

circles,

of

cube

imposed upon

cube,

of

apartment

opening

into

apartment."20inally,

Scheffauernoted

what

he termed

"sculptural"

r

"solid"

pace,

as modeled

by

the

Poelzigs

for

Wegener's

Der

Golem.

Professor

oelzig

onceives

f

space

n

plastic

erms,

n solid

concretions

ongealing

nder he

artist's

and o

expressive

nd

organic

orms.He

works, herefore,

n

the

solid

masses

of the

sculptor

ndnot

with he

planes

of

the

painter.

Underhis

caress-

ing

handsa

weirdbut

spontaneous

nternal

rchitecture,

hell-like,

cavernous,omber,

as

been evolved

n

simple,

lowing

ines,

instinct with the bizarre

spirit

of the tale .... The

gray

soul

of

medieval

Prague

asbeen molded nto these

eccentric

nderrant

crypts....

Poelzig

eeks

o

give

an

eerie

and

grotesque

uggestive-

ness

to

the

flights

of housesand

streets hat are o furnish he

external

etting

of this

film-play.

he willof this

master rchitect

animating

acades

nto

faces,

nsists hat thesehousesare o

speak

in

jargon

and

gesticulate 21

Pan-Geometries

In

assimilating

ilmic

space

to

the

theoretical

ypes

of

Raum

adumbrated

n

German

philosophy

and

psychology

ince

Theodor

Vischer,

and

in

proposing

he

relativity

f

spatial

forms

n

the face

of

continuous

optical

movement

in

a

way

reminiscentof the

historical

relativity

f

optical

forms

demonstrated

by

Alois

Riegl,

Scheffauer eems also to have

anticipated

he

more

scholarly

ccount of

perspectival

is-

tory developed

between 1923and 1925

by

Erwin

Panofsky.

Panofsky's ssay

"Perspective

s

Symbolic

Form" et out

to

show that the various

perspective ystems

from Roman times

to

the

present

were not

simply

"incorrect"nstancesof

repre-

senting reality,

but

rather,

were endowed with

distinct and

symbolic

meaning

of

their

own,

as

powerful

and

as

open

to

reading

as

iconographicalypes

and

genres.

Panofsky

ven

took

note

of

the modernist

will

to break

with the conventions

of

perspective,

eeing

it as

yet

another

stage

of

perspective

vision itself. He cited

expressionism's

esistance o

perspec-

tive as the last remnant

of

the

will

to

capture

"real,

hree-

dimensional

space,"

n

particular,

El

Lissitzky's

esire

to

overcome he bounds of finite

space:

Older

perspective

s

supposed

o

have limited

pace,

made t

fi-

nite,

closed t

off,'

conceived f

space

according

o

Euclidian

e-

ometry

s

rigid hree-dimensionality,'

nd

t

is

these

very

bonds

which

he most recentarthas

attempted

o

break.Either t has

n

a sense

exploded

he

entire

paceby'dispersing

he centerof

vi-

sion'

('Futurism'),

r t has

sought

no

longer

o

representepth

intervals

extensively'y

meansof

foreshortenings,

ut

rather,

n

accordwith he most modern

nsights

f

psychology,

nly

o cre-

ate an illusion

intensively'y

playing

olor urfaces ff

against

each

other,

each

differently

laced,differently

haded,

nd

only

n

this

way

urnished

withdifferent

patial

alues

Mondrian

nd

n

particular

Malevich's

Suprematism').

heauthor

El

Lissitzky]

believes

he

can

suggest

third

olution: he

conquest

f

'imagi-

nary pace'

by

meansof

mechanically

otivated

odies,

which

by

this

very

movement,

y

their

rotation r

oscillation,

roduce re-

cise

figures

for

example, rotating

tick

produces

n

apparent

circle,

or

in

another

osition,

n

apparent ylinder,

ndso

forth).

In

this

way,

n

the

opinion

of El

Lissitzky,

rt s elevated o the

standpoint

f a

non-Euclidian

an-geometry

whereas

n

factthe

spaceof those imaginary'otating odies s no less Euclidian'

than

any

other

empiricalpace.)22

DespitePanofsky'skepticism,

t

was,

of

course,

such a

"pan-geometric"pace

that architecture

hoped

to construct

through

abstraction nd

technologically

nduced

movement.

Architects rom

El

Lissitzky

o Bruno

Taut were to

experi-

ment

with

this

new

pan-geometry

s

if

it would enable them

finally,

n

ErnstBloch's

words,

"to

depict

empirically

n

imaginarypace."

For

Bloch,

the

underlying

Euclidiannature

of

all

space

offeredthe

potential

for

architecture o

approach

pan-geometry

n

reality.

Basing

his

argument

on

Panofsky's

essay,

he

commended

expressionists

or

havinggenerated

rotating

and

turning

bodies

that

produced"stereometric

figures

.. which at least have

nothing

in

commonwith the

perspective

visual

space

(Sehraum)";

ut

of

this

procedure

emerged

"an

architecture

f the

abstract,

whichwants to be

quasi-meta-cubic."23

or

Bloch,

this

potential

allowedmod-

ern

architecture

o

achieve ts own

"symbolic

allusions,"

ven

if

these were

founded

on

the "so-called

un-Euclidian

pan-

geometry"

riticized

by

Panofsky.24

n

this

illusion,

the archi-

tects

were

encouraged

by

the

cinematographers

hemselves,

49


8/17

assemblage

21

who,

at least

in

the 1920s ed

by

Fritz

Lang

and F.

W.

Murnau,

accepted

the

practical ulings

of

the Universum

Film

A.G.,

or

UFA,

whose

proscription

gainst

exterior ilm-

ing supported

he

extraordinaryxperimentation

n

set

design

of

the Weimar

period.

Psycho-Spaces

But

the

attempt

to

construct hese

imaginary

ew worlds

was,

as

Panofsky

had

noted,

not

simply

formalistic

nd deco-

rative;

ts

premise

was

from the outset

psychological,

ased

on what Rudolf Kurzdefined as the

"simple

aw of

psycho-

logical

aesthetics

that when we feel our

way

into certain

formsexact

psychic

correspondences

re

set

up."25

Hugo

Miinsterberg,

n

his 1916 workFilm:

A

Psychological

tudy,

had

already

et out the terms of the

equation,

film

equals

psychological

orm.26For

Miinsterberg,

ilm

differed rom

drama

by

its

appeal

to the

"innermovements of the

mind."

To be

sure,

he events nthe

photoplay appen

n the real

pace

with ts

depth.

But

he

spectator

eels hat

they

arenot

presented

in

the

threedimensions f the outer

world,

hat

they

are lat

pic-

tureswhich

only

he

mind

molds

nto

plastic

hings.Again

he

eventsareseen ncontinuousmovement;ndyetthepictures

break

p

the movement nto a

rapid

uccession

f instantaneous

impressions....

The

photoplay

ellsus

the human

tory

by

over-

coming

he forms f the outer

world,

amely, pace,

ime,

and

causality,

nd

by

adjusting

he events o the

forms f the

inner

world,

amely,

ttention,

memory,magination,

ndemotion.27

Only

two

years

ater,

n

one of his

first

critical

essays,

Louis

Aragon

was to note this

property

f the

film

to focus atten-

tion and reformulate

he real

nto

the

imaginary,

he

ability

to fuse the

physical

and

the

mental,

later to become a surreal-

ist

obsession.

Seeminglyanticipating

he mental states of

AndreBreton'sNadja

or of his

own

Paysan

de

Paris,

but

re-

vealed

n

film,

Aragon

meditatedon the "the door

of a bar

that swingsandon the window the capital etters of unread-

able

and marvelous

words,

or the

vertiginous,

housand-eyed

facade

of the

thirty-story

ouse."28

he

possibility

of

disclos-

ing

the

inner

"menacing

or

enigmatic

meanings"

of

everyday

objects

by simple

close-up techniques

and camera

angles,

light,

shade,

and

space

established,

or

Aragon,

he

poetic

potential

of the

art:"To endow

with a

poetic

value that

which does not

yet possess

t,

to

willfully

estrict he field

of

vision so

as

to

intensifyexpression:

hese are

two

properties

that

help

make cinematic decor the

adequate

setting

of mod-

ern

beauty."29

For

this, however,

ilm had no need of an

artificially

on-

structed

decor that simulated he

foreshortening

f

perspec-

tive

or

the

phobic

characteristics f

space;

he

framings

and

movements

of the

camera tself

would

serve

o

construct

reality

armore

freely.

In his later 1934

essay "Style

and

Medium

in

the Motion Pictures,"

Panofsky

himself

argued

againstanyattemptto subjectthe world o "artisticpre-

stylization,

as

in

the

expressionist ettings

of The Cabinet

of

Dr.

Caligari,"

s "no more than an

exciting experiment."

"To

prestylize ealityprior

o

tackling

t amounts

to

dodging

the

problem,"

he

concluded:"The

problem

s

to

manipulate

and

shoot

unstylizedreality

n

such

a

way

that

the

result

has

style.-30

The Lureof the Street

In

such

terms,

from the mid-1920s

on,

critics

ncreasingly

denouncedwhat

they

saw as the

purely

decorativeand

staged

characteristics

f the

expressionist

ilm

in

favorof a more

directconfrontationwith the "real."

f,

as

Panofsky

sserted,

"these

unique

and

specific possibilities"

f

film

could

be

"defined

as

dynamization

f

space

and,

accordingly,

patiali-

zation

of

time,"

hen it was the lens of the

camera,

and not

any

distorted

set,

that inculcateda sense of motion

in

the

static

spectator,

and thence a mobilizationof

space

itself:

"Not

only

bodies move

in

space,

but

space

itself

does,

ap-

proaching, eceding, urning,dissolving

and

recrystallizing

s

it

appears hrough

he

controlled ocomotion and

focusing

of

the cameraand

through

he

cutting

and

editing

of the

vari-

ous shots."3'

And

this led

to

the

inevitableconclusion

that

the

proper

medium

of the movies was

not

the idealization

of

reality,as

in

the

other

arts,

but

"physical eality

as

such."32

MarcelCarne's rustrated

question,

"When

Will

the Cinema

Go Down into the

Street?"

alling

for an end to artificeand

the

studio

set and a confrontation

of the "real," s

opposed

to

the "constructed"

aris,

was

only

one

of a numberof increas-

ingly

ritical ttacks n the

architecturalet

in

the

early

1930s.33

Among

the most

rigorous

f

the

new

realists,

Siegfried

Kracauer,

imself a former

architect,

was

consistent

in

his

50


9/17

Vidler

argumentsagainst

he

"decorative"

nd artificial

and

in

favor

of the critical

vision of

the realthat

film allowed.

From his

first

experience

of

film as a

pre-World

War I child

to his

last

theoretical

workon

film

published

n

1960,

Kracauer

ound

the

street to

be both site and vehicle

for his social

criticism.

Recalling

he first

filmhe sawas a

boy

-

entitled,

signifi-

cantly enough,

Film as the

Discoverer

f

the Marvels

f

Every-

day

Life

-

Kracauer

emembered

being

thrilled

by

the

sight

of "an

ordinary

uburban

treet,

filled with

lights

and shad-

owswhich

transfigured

t. Several

rees stood

about,

and

there

was

in

the

foreground

puddle

reflecting

nvisible

house

facades

and a

piece

of

sky.

Then a

breeze moved

the

shadows,

and the

fatades

with the

sky

below

began

to waver.

The

trembling

upper

world

n

the

dirty

puddle

-

this

image

hasnever eft

me."34 or

Kracauer,

ilm

was

first and

foremost

a

materialrather

han

purely

ormal

aesthetics that

was es-

sentially

suited to the

recording

of the

fleeting,

the

tempo-

rally

ransient,

he

momentary mpression

that

is,

the

modern

-

and a

quality

hat made the

"street"

n

all

its

manifestations

an

especially

avored ubject

matter.

If the

snapshot

stressed he

randomand the

fortuitous,

hen its

natural

development

n

the

motion-picture

camera

was

"par-

tial to the leastpermanentcomponentsof ourenvironment,"

rendering

"the street

in

the

broadestsense

of the word" he

place

for chanceencounters

and social observation.35

ut for

this to

workas a

truly

critical

method of observation

and

recording,

he street

would first

have to be offered

up

as an

"unstaged

eality";

what Kracauer

onsidered

ilm's "declared

preference

or nature

n

the

raw"was

easily

defeated

by

artifi-

ciality

and

"staginess,"

whetherthe

staged "drawing

rought

to life" of

Caligari

or the more

filmic

staging

of

montage,

panning,

and

cameramovement.

Lang's

Metropolis

f

1926

was

an

example

of this latter kind

of

staging,

where

"a

film

of

unsurpassable taginess"

was

partially

edeemed

by

the

way

in

which crowds

were treated "and

rendered

hrough

a combi-

nation of long shotsandclose shotswhichprovideexactlythe

kind of random

mpressions

we would

receivewere

we to

witness this

spectacle

n reality."36

et,

for

Kracauer,

he

impact

of the

crowd

mages

was obviated

by

the architectural

settings

that remained

entirelystylized

and

imaginary.

A

similar

case was

representedby

Walter Ruttmann's

Berlin:

Die

Symphonie

iner

Groszstadt

f

1927,

where

n a Vertov-

like

manipulation

of shot and

montage

the director ried to

.^^^^^

M

...llM^

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

rum

^r^r--p

jAuiAi

JWp

-

-

FW

4a-b. Walter

Ruttmann,

Berlin:

Die Sinfonie einer

Groszstadt,

1927,

film

stills

51


10/17

assemblage

21

capture

"simultaneous

henomena

which,

owing

to

certain

analogies

and

contrasts

between

them,

form

comprehensible

patterns....

He cuts

from human

legs

walking

he street to

the

legs

of a

cow and

juxtaposes

he lusciousdishesin

a de-

luxe restaurant

with

the

appalling

ood

of the

very

poor."37

Such

formalism,

however,

ended to

concentrateattention

not on

things

themselvesandtheir

meaning,

but on

their

formal

characteristics. s

Kracauer oted

with

respect

to the

capturing

of

the

city's

movement

in

rhythmic

hots,

"tempo

_

i

"

is also

a formal

conception

if

it is not defined with

reference

:

to

the

qualities

of the

objects

through

which it

materializes."38

-

For

Kracauer,

he

street,

properly

ecorded,

offereda

virtually

inexhaustible

ubject

for

the

comprehension

of

modernity;

ts

-'H

special

characteristics

osterednot

only

the chance

and the

random,

but

more

importantly,

he

necessary

distance, f

not

:

alienation,

of the

observer or

whom the

camera

eye

was a

precise

surrogate.

f in

the

photographs

f Charles

Marville r

EugeneAtget

we

might

detect a

certain

melancholy,

hiswas

because the

photographic

medium

intersecting

with

the

street

as

subject

fostereda kind of

self-estrangement,

llow-

ing

for a closer

dentificationwith

the objects

being

observed.

"The

dejected individual s

likely

o lose

himself

in

the inci-

dental

configurations

f his environment,

absorbing

hem

with a

disinterested

ntensity

no

longer

determined

by

his

previous

preferences.

His is a kind of

receptivity

which re-

sembles that of

Proust's

photographer

ast

in

the role of a

stranger."39

ence,

for Kracauer

nd his friend

Walter Ben-

jamin,

the close

identificationof the

photographer

with the

flaneur,

and

the

potential

of

flanerie

and its

techniques

to

furnishmodels for

the modernist

ilmmaker:

The

melancholy

haracters

seen

strolling

bout

aimlessly:

s he

proceeds,

is

changing

urroundings

ake

shape

n

the formof

numerous

uxtaposed

hotsof

house

acades,

eon

ights, tray

5.

Eugne

Atget,

entrance o

passers-by,

nd he like.

It is

inevitablehat the

audience hould

the

passage

de

la

Reunion,

trace heir eemingly nmotivatedmergenceo hisdejection nd Paris, 908

the alienation

n

its wake.40

In

this

respect,

what Kracauer aw as Eisenstein's"identifi-

cation

of life with the

street" ook on new

meaning

as the

flaneur-photographer

oved to

capture

he flow

of

fleeting

impressions

hat

Kracauer'seacher

Georg

Simmel

had char-

acterizedas

"snapshots

f

reality."

When

history

s made

in the

streets,

the streets

tend to move onto

the screen,"

concluded Kracauer.

52


11/17

Vidler

Filming

the

City

Other critics

were more

optimistic

about the

potential

of

filmic

techniques

to rendera

versionof

reality

hat

might

otherwise

go

unrecorded,

r

better,

to reconstrue

eality

n

such

a

way

that

it

might

be

critically pprehended.

Thus

Benjamin's

elebrated

eulogy

of filmas

liberty

of

perception

in

"The Work of

Art in the

Age

of Mechanical

Reproduction"

was a first

step

in

the constitution of the

filmic as the modern

criticalaesthetic:

Byclose-ups

f

the

things

around

s,

by focusing

n hiddendetails

of familiar

bjects,

by exploring ommonplace

milieusunder

he

ingenious uidance

f the

camera,

he

film,

on the one

hand,

ex-

tends

our

comprehension

f the necessitieswhich

ruleour

ives;

on the other

hand,

t

manages

o assure

s of an immense

ndun-

expected

ield

of action.Our averns ndour

metropolitan

treets,

ourofficesand

urnished

ooms,

urrailroadtations

ndour ac-

tories

appeared

o

haveus locked

up hopelessly.

hen came

he

filmandburst his

prison-world

sunder

y

the

dynamite

f the

tenth of

a

second,

o

that

now,

n

the midstof its

far-flung

uins

and

debris,

we

calmly

nd

adventurouslyotraveling.

With the

close-up, paceexpands;

withslow

motion,

movements ex-

tended ....

An

unconsciously penetrated space

is substituted

for

a

space consciously explored by

man.

....

The camera introduces

us to unconscious

ptics

as does

psychoanalysis

o unconscious

impulses.41

Unconscious

optics

-

the filmic unconscious

was,

for

Benjamin,

tself a

kind of

analysis,

he closest aesthetic

equivalent

o

Freud's

own

Psychopathology

f

Everyday

ife,

in

its

ability

o focus and

deepen perception.

In

this

characteristic,

ilm

obviously

outdistanced

architec-

ture;

Benjamin's

emark hat

"architecture

as

always

repre-

sented the

prototype

of

a

work

of

art the

reception

of

which is

consummated

by

the

collectivity

n a

state of distraction"was

made

in

this

very

context: the assertionof the "shockeffect"

of the film as that which allows he public,no longerdis-

tracted,

o be once more

put

in

the

position

of the critic.

Thus

the

only way

to renderarchitecture ritical

again

was to

wrest

t

out

of

its

uncritically

bserved

context,

its distracted

state,

and offer it to a now attentive

public

-

that

is,

to

make

a

film

of the

building.

Or of the

city.

In

an evocative

remark

nserted

apparently

t

random

among

the

unwieldy

collection

of

citations

and

apho-

risms hat

make

up

the unfinished

Passagen-Werk,

enjamin

opened

the

possibility

of

yet

another

way

of

reading

his unfin-

ished work:was it not

perhaps

he sketch of a

screenplay

or a

movie of

Paris?

Couldone not shoota

passionate

ilm

of the

city

plan

of Paris?Of

the

development

f its differentorms

Gestalten]

n

temporal

succession? f

the

condensation

f a

century-long

ovement f

streets,boulevards,

assages,

quares,

n

the

space

of half

an

hour?

Andwhat

else

does

he

flaneur

o?42

In

this

context,

might

not the endless

quotations

and

apho-

risticobservations f the

Passagen-Werk,

arefullywrittenout

on hundredsof

single

index

cards,

each

one

letter-,

number-,

and

color-coded o cross-referencehem to all the

rest,

be

construedas so

many

shots,

ready

o be

montaged

nto

the

epic

movie

Paris,

Capital

of

the Nineteenth

Century

a

prehistory

f

modernity, inally

realized

bymodernity's

wn

special

form

of

mechanical

reproduction?

While

obviously

no

"film"

of this

kind

was ever

made,

an

attempt

to answer

he

hypotheticalquestion,

what would

Benjamin's

ilm

of Parishave looked ike?would

clarify

what

we

might

call his "filmic

maginary."

uch an

imaginary,

overt

in

the

Passagen-Werk

nd the

contemporary

ssay

"The

Workof Artin the Ageof MechanicalReproduction"nd

covert

n

many

earlier

writings

rom

those

on

Germanba-

roque allegory

o those on historical

orm,

might,

in

turn,

reveal

mportantaspects

of

the theoretical

problems

nherent

in

the filmic

representation

f the

metropolis.

For

in

the

light

of

Benjamin's

heoriesof the

political

and

social

powers

of

mechanical

reproduction

s outlined

in

his

"Conversations

with BertoltBrecht," t is clearfrom the outset that

any

project

or a film of

Pariswould

in

no

way

have resembled

other urban ilms of the

interwar

period,

whether

dealist,

expressionist,

r

realist.

Rather,

t would have

involved

Ben-

jamin

n

an act of theoretical

elaboration

hat,

based

on

pre-

viousfilm

theory

and

criticism,

would have constructed

new

kinds of

optical

relationsbetween

the

camera

and the

city,

film

and architecture.These

would no doubt have been

establishedon the

complex

notion of

"the

optical

uncon-

scious,"an

intercalation f Freud and

Riegl,

that

appears

n

Benjamin's

writings

on

photography

nd film in

the late

1920s and

early

1930s.

On one

level,

Benjamin's

ragmentary

emark

s

easily

deci-

pherable:

what he had

in

mind was

evidently

an

image

of the

53


12/17

assemblage

21

combined resultsof the

flaneur's

peripatetic

vision

montaged

onto the

history

of the nineteenth

century

and

put

in

motion

by

the movie camera.No

longer

wouldthe

implied

move-

ment

of

Bergsonian

mental

processes

or the turns of

allegori-

cal text

have to make

do

as

pale

imitationsof

metropolitan

movement;

now the real

movement

of

the

film

would,

finally,

merge technique

and content as a

proof,

so to

speak,

of the

manifest

destiny

of

modernity.

n

this

sense,

Benjamin's

metaphor

of a

Parisian ilm remains

just

that:

a

figure

of

modernist

echnique

as the fullest

expression

of modernist

thought,

as

well as the

explanation

of

its

origins.

Certainly,

t is not too difficult to

imagine

the

figure

of

Benjamin's

ldneur,

Vertov-like,

arrying

is cameraas a third

eye,

framing

and

shooting

the

rapidlymoving pictures

of

modern ife. The

etchings

of

Jacques

Callot,

the thumbnail

sketches

of

Augustin

Saint-Aubin,

he tableauxof

Sebastien

Mercier,

he

rapidrenderings

f Constantin

Guys,

the

prose

poems

of

Charles

Baudelaire,

he

snapshots

of

Atget

are all

readily

ransposed

nto the

vocabulary

f

film,

which then

literally

mimics the

fleeting

impressions

f

everyday

ife

in

the

metropolis

n

its

very echniques

of

representation.

ndeed,

almost

every

characteristic

Benjamin

associateswith

the

flineur

might

be associated

with

the

film

director

with

little

or no distortion.An

eye

for

detail,

forthe

neglected

andthe

chance;

a

penchant

for

joining

reality

and

reverie;

distanced

vision,

apart

rom

that distracted

and

unself-conscious

xist-

ence

of

the

crowd;

a

fondness

for the

marginal

and the

forgot-

ten: these are traitsof

flaneur

and filmmaker

like.

Both share

affinitieswith the detective

and the

peddlar,

he

ragpicker

and

the

vagabond;

oth aestheticizethe

roles and materials

with which

they

work.

Equally,

he

typical

habitats

of

the

flaneur

end

themselves

to filmic

representation:

he

banlieue,

the

margins,

he

zones,

and outskirts

of the

city;

the deserted

streetsand

squares

at

night;

the crowded

boulevards,

he

phantasmagoric assages,arcades,anddepartmentstores; he

spatialapparatus,

hat

is,

of the consumer

metropolis.

On

another

evel, however,

f

we take the

image iterally

rather han

metaphorically,

numberof

puzzling

questions

emerge.

A filmof Paris s

certainly

onceivable,

but what

would a

film of

"the

plan

of Paris"ook like?

And

if

we

were to

succeed

in

filming

this

plan,

how then

might

it

depict

the

development

of the

city's

"forms" its

boulevards, treets,

6.

Atget,

Au

Tambour,63, quai

de

la

Tournelle, Paris,

1908

54


13/17

Vidler

squares,

and

passages

at the same time

as

"condensing"

century

of their

history

nto half an hour?How

might

such a

film,

if

realized,

be

"passionate"?

f,

as

Benjamin

ntimates,

the model of the

film

directorwasto be foundin the

figure

of the

flaneur,

how

might

this

figure

ranslate

his

essentially

nineteenth-century

habits

of

walking

and

seeing

into cine-

matographic

erms?

It

seems

that,

step by

step,

within the

very

movement of

Benjamin's

wn

metaphor,

he ostensible

unity

of

the

image

is

systematically

ndermined;

as

though

the result

of

making

a film

of the

plan

of Pariswere to

repli-

cate the

very

ragmentation

f

modernity

hat the

metropolis

poses,

the

flaneur

sees,

andthe

film

concretizes.

Benjamin's

image

thus

emerges

as a

complex

rebus

of

method and form.

Its

very

self-enclosed

elegance,beginning

with the

film

and

ending

withthe

flaneur

as director

a

perfectexample

of a

romantic

ragment urning

n

on itself

according

o Friedrich

Schelling's

rules),

seems

consciously

structured o

provoke

ts

own

unraveling.

t

is

as if

Benjamin

nsertedhis cinemato-

graphic

conundrum nto the formlessaccumulationof

the

citations

and

aphorisms

of

the

Passagen-Werk

o

provoke,

n

its

deciphering,

a self-conscious

ambiguity

about the

implied

structure

of his

text, and,

at

the

same

time,

a

speculation

on

the theoryof filmthathe neverwrote.

For

it was not

simply

that the

flaneur

and

the filmmaker

shared

spaces

and

gazes;

or

Benjamin,

hese

characteristics

were

transferred,

s

in

analysis,

o the

spaces

themselves,

which became

vagabonds

n

their own

right.

He

spoke

of the

phenomenon

of

the

"colportage,

r

peddling

of

space,"

as

the fundamental

experience

of

the

flaneur,

where a kind

of

Bergsonian imultaneity

allowed"the

simultaneous

percep-

tion of

everything

hat

potentially

s

happening

n

this

single

space.

The

space

directs

winks

at the

flaneur."43

hus

the

flaneur

as

ragpicker

nd

peddlar

participates

n

his surround-

ings,

even as

they

cooperate

with

him in

his unofficialarchae-

ology

of

spatialsettings.

And,

to

paraphrase enjamin,

what

else does the filmmakerdo? for

a viewernow

opened

up

"in

his

susceptibility

o the

transientreal-life

phenomena

that

crowd he screen."44

Architectural

Montage

Here we are returned o

Eisenstein's

"street,"

eminded,

in

Benjamin's

desireto have

shot

a

"passionate"

ilm,

of

Eisenstein's

own

long analyses

of the

notion of

filmic

"ecstasy,

the

simultaneouscause and

effect

of

movement in the

movie.

For

Eisenstein,

the "ecstatic"wasin

fact the

fundamental

sharedcharacteristic f

architecture nd film. Even

as architec

tural

styles,

one

by

one,

"exploded"

nto each

other

in a kind

of

inevitable

historical

process,

so

the filmmaker

might

force the

shot

to

decompose

and

recompose

n

successive

explosions.

Thus the

principles

f the

Gothic .

.

seemto

explode

he balance f the Ro-

manesque tyle.And,within he Gothic tself,we could race he

stirring icture

f

movement

f

its lancetworld rom

he firstal-

most ndistinct

teps

oward

he ardent

models

of

the mature nd

postmature,

flamboyant'

ate Gothic.

We

could,

ike

Wolfflin,

on

trast

he

Renaissance

nd

Baroque

nd

nterpret

he excited

pirit

of

the

second,

winding

ikea

spiral,

san

ecstatically

ursting

em-

perament

f a

new

epoch,

exploding receding

orms

f

art

n

the

enthusiasmsora new

quality, esponding

o a newsocial

phase

of a

single

historical

rocess.45

But Eisenstein

goes

further. n an

essay

on

two Piranesi

ngrav

ings

for the

early

and late states of

the Carceri

eries,

he

com-

pares

architectural

omposition

itself to

cinematic

montage,

an

implicit

"flux

of

form"

hat

holds

withinitself the

potential

to explodeinto successivestates.6Buildingon his experience

as

architectand set

designer,

Eisenstein

developed

a

compre-

hensive

theory

of what he called

"space

constructions"

hat

found

new

meaning

in

the

romantic ormulation

of architec-

ture

as

"frozenmusic":

At thebasisof the

composition

f its

ensemble,

t the basisof the

harmony

f its

conglomerating

asses,

n

the

establishmentf the

melody

f the futureoverflow f

its

forms,

nd

n

the

execution f

its

rhythmic

arts,

ivingharmony

o the reliefof

its

ensemble,

ies

that same

dance' hat s alsoatthe basisof the

creation f

music,

painting,

nd

cinematic

montage.47

For

Eisenstein,

a kind

of

relentless

vertigo

s set

up by

the

play

of architectural orms n space,a vertigo hat is easilyassimi-

lable to

Thomas De

Quincey's

celebratedaccount of

Samuel

Coleridge's

reaction o Piranesi's

Carceri,

r

better,

to

Nikolai

Gogol's reading

of

the Gothic as a

style

of

endless movement

and

internal

explosions.48

And

if

Eisensteincan

"force,"o use

ManfredoTafuri's

erm,

these

representations

f

architectural

pace

to

"explode"

nto

the successive

stages

of

their

"montage" ecomposition

and

55


14/17

assemblage

21

recomposition,

as

if

they

were so

many

"shots,"

hen it is be-

cause,

for

Eisenstein,

architecture tself embodies the

prin-

ciples

of

montage.

Indeed,

its

especial

characteristics f a

spatial

art

experienced

n

time render t the

predecessor

f

film in

more than

simple analogy.

In

the article

"Montage

and

Architecture,"

written

n

the

late

1930sas a

part

of the

uncompleted

workon

montage,

Eisen-

stein

sets out this

position, contrasting

wo

"paths"

f the

spatialeye:

the

cinematic,

where a

spectator

ollowsan

imagi-

nary ine amonga seriesof objects,through he sightas well

as

in

the

mind

-

"diverse

mpressionspassing

n

front

of

an

immobile

spectator"

and the

architectural,

where "the

spectator

moved

through

a seriesof

carefullydisposedphe-

nomenawhichhe absorbed

n

orderwith his visualsense."49

In

this transition

rom real

to

imaginary

movement,

architec-

ture is film's

predecessor.

Where

painting

"remained

nca-

pable

of

fixing

the

total

representation

f

a

phenomenon

in

its full

multi-dimensionality"

nd

"only

he

film camerahas

solved the

problem

of

doing

this on

a

flat

surface,"

its

un-

doubted ancestor

n

this

capability

s

...

architecture."50

Eisenstein,

as is well

known,

used

Auguste

Choisy'sperspec-

tive views

of

the

Acropolis

o

demonstratehis

theory

of

movementand

montage

in

space, following

Le Corbusier's

own

reproduction

f these

images

in

Vers

une architectureo

exemplify

he

notion of the

promenade

rchitecturale.i

But

in

their use of a common

source

to

demonstrate

architecture's

otential

for

a

staging

of

movement,

neither

Eisenstein

nor Le Corbusierwere

admitting

any

lesser

au-

tonomy

for their

respective patialdisciplines.

For

Eisenstein,

the

Acropolis

implyproved

hat architecture

was a

fitting

"ancestor"o

film;

for

Le

Corbusier,

t

permitted

a return o

the

"original"

odily

and sensational ources

of the

plan.52

Both

would have

agreed

with

Robert

Mallet-Stevens,

who

was troubled

by

the invasionof the decorative

nto filmic

architecture,he potentialto create"imaginary"ormsthat

illustrated ather

han

provided ettings

for human

psycho-

logical

emotions. Mallet-Stevens

warned

against

he

ten-

dency

to view architecture sa

photogenic

aid to

film,

thereby

creating

a "foreseen"

ynamic

hat

in

real

space

would be

provided

by

the

human

figure:

"the

ornament,

he

arabesque,

s the mobile

personage

who creates

hem."53

Rather

han

expressionistbuildings mitating

their

cinematic

counterparts,

e called for a radical

implification

of architec-

ture that would,

in

this

way,

offer itself

up naturally

o the

filmic

action,

always

preserving

he distancebetween the real

and the

imaginary.

Real ife is

entirely

different,

he house is

made to live, it should first

respond

o our needs."54

roperly

handled,however,

architecture nd film

might

be

entirely

complementary.

He cited a

screenplay y

Ricciotto

Canudo

that would

perhaps

realize his ideal:

It concernedhe

representation

f a

solitary

woman,

righteningly

alone nlife,surroundedythevoid,andnothingness. he decor:

composed

f

inarticulate

ines,

mmovable,

epeated,

withoutor-

nament:

o

window,

o

door,

no furnituren the "field" ndat the

centerof these

rigid

parallels

womanwhoadvanced

lowly.

ub-

titlesbecome

useless,

rchitecture

ituates he

person

nddefines

herbetter

han

any

ext.55

In

this vision of a cinematic architecture

hat would

through

its own laws

of

perspective

eturn o the essentialcharacteris-

ticsof

building,

Mallet-Stevens choed Le Corbusierand

anticipated

Eisenstein.

In

his

depiction

of a

decor framedas

the

very mage

of

isolation,

agoraphobic

r

claustrophobic,

e

also answered hose

in

Germany

who were

attempting

to

"express"

n

spatial

distortion

what a

simple manipulation

of

the camera n

space might accomplish.

Such

arguments

over

the

potentialities

of a "filmicarchitec-

ture"have

hardly

ceased

with the

gradual

demise of cinema

and the rise

of

its

own

"natural"uccessors video

and

digital

hyperspatialmaging.

That the influence

of

these new

forms

of

spatialrepresentation

n

architecture

might

be as

disturbing

as those observed

by

Le Corbusier

and Mallet-

Stevens

is

at

least

possible

o

hazard,

as

buildings

and their

spatialsequences

are

designed

moreas illustrations f

implied

movement,

or

worse,

as

literal

fabrications f the

computer's-

eye

view.

7.

Rebecca

Horn,

Der Eintanzer,

1978,

film

still

56


15/17

r

t

<

..

Os

i

Y

??~~~~

ft

?

:


16/17

assemblage

21

Notes

1.

Dziga

Vertov,

Kino-Eye:

The

Writings

of

Dziga

Vertov,

d.

Annette

Michelson,

trans. Kevin

O'Brien

(Berkeley:University

of

California

Press,

1984),

17.

2.

Le

Corbusier,

"Esprit

de

verite,"

Mouvement

1

(June

1933):

10-13,

translated

n

Richard

Abel,

French

Film

Theory

nd Criticism:

A

His-

tory/Anthology,

vols.

(Princeton:

Princeton

University

Press,

1988),

2:111-13.

3. See

Georges

Melies,

"LesVues

cinematographiques"

1907),

in

Marcel

L'Herbier,

L'Intelligence

u

cinematographe

Paris:

Editions

Corea,

1946),

179-87,

and

Eric

Rohmer,

"Cinema:

The Art of

Space"

(1948),

in

Eric

Rohmer,

The

Taste

for

Beauty,

rans. Carol

Volk

(Cambridge:Cambridge

University

Press,

1989),

19-29.

4. The best

discussion of the

archi-

tectural

contribution to set

design,

in the context of the

expressionist

twenties,

is still Lotte H.

Eisner's

L'Ecran

demoniaque

Paris:

Eric

Losfeld,

1965).

5. Robert

Mallet-Stevens,

"Le

Cinema et les arts:

L'Architecture,"

Les Cahiers

du

Mois-Cinema

1925);

reprinted

n

L'Herbier,

L'Intelli-

gence

du

cinematographe,

88.

6. Abel

Gance,

"Qu'est-ce

que

le

cinematographe?

Un

sixieme

art,"

Cine-Journal

95,

no.

9

(March

1912);

reprinted

n

L'Herbier,

L'In-

telligence

du

cinematographe,

2.

7. "Le cinema

est

plastique

d'abord:

il

represente,

en

quelque

sorte,

une

architecture

en mouvement

qui

doit

etre

en accord

constant,

en

equilibre

dynamiquement

poursuivi

avec

le

milieu

et les

paysages

ou

elle

s'eleve

et

s'ecroule"

Elie

Faure,

"De la

cineplastique,"

n L'Arbre 'Eden

[Paris:

Editions

Cres,

1922];

re-

printed

in

L'Herbier,

L'Intelligence

du

cinematographe,

68).

8. "La

plastique

est l'art

d'exprimer

la forme en

repos

ou en mouve-

ment"

(ibid., 268).

9. "Le cinema

incorpore

e

temps

a

l'espace.

Mieux. Le

temps, par

ui,

devient reellement une dimension

de

l'espace"

(ibid., 275).

10. "Nous avons

deja

faitdu

temps

un

organe

qui

joue

son role dans

l'organisme patiale

meme,

deroulant

sous nos

yeux

ses volumes

successifs ramenes sans cesse

pour

nous aux dimensions

qui

nous

permettent

d'en

embrasser eten-

due en surface

et en

profondeur"

(ibid.).

11. "Lanotion

de la

duree

entrant

comme element

constitutif dans

la

notion de

l'espace,

nous

imaginerons

acilement un art de

cineplastique

epanoui qui

ne

soit

plus qu'une

architecture

deale et

d'oiu e cinemime, et je le repete,

disparaitra, arce

qu'un

grand

ar-

tiste

pourra

batir seul des 6difices

se

constituant,

s'effondrantet

se reconstituant

sans cesse

par

insensibles

passages

de tous

et de

modeles

qui

seront eux-memes

ar-

chitecture

a

tout instant

de la

duree,

sans

que

nous

puissions

saisir a

millieme seconde oO

s'opere

a tran-

sition"

(ibid., 276).

12. "La

cineplastique,

sans

doute,

en sera

'ornement

spirituel

e

plus

unaninement recherche

le

jeu

social

le

plus

utile

au

developpe-

ment dans las foules,du besoin de

confiance,

d'harmonie,

de cohesion"

(ibid., 278).

13. Herman

G.

Scheffauer,

"The

Vivifying

of

Space,"

Freeman

24

November-I December

1920);

re-

printed

in Lewis

Jacobs,

ed.,

Intro-

duction to the

Art

of

the Movies

(New

York:

Noonday

Press,

1960),

76-85. Scheffauerwas

the

author

of

The New

Spirit

in

the German

Arts.

14.

Ibid.,

77.

15.

Ibid.,

78.

16.

Ibid.,

79.

17.

Ibid.,

79-81.

18. Scheffauer's

analysis

was

echoed

by

the art critic Rudolf Kurz:"Per-

pendicular

ines tense

towards

he

diagonal,housesexhibitcrooked,

angular

outlines,

planes

shift

in

rhomboid

fashion,

the

lines of force

of normal

architecture,

expressed

n

perpendiculars

nd

horizontals,

are

transmogrified

nto a chaos of bro-

ken forms....

A

movement

begins,

leaves its natural

course,

is inter-

cepted

by

another,

ed

on,

distorted

again,

and broken.

All

this is

steeped

in a

magic play

of

light, unchaining

brightness

and

blackness,

building

up, dividing, emphasizing, destroy-

ing"

(Expressionismus

nd Film

[Berlin,

1926],

123;

cited

in

Siegbert

Salomon Prawer,Caligari'sChil-

dren:The Film as Tale

of

Terror

[New

York:Da

Capo

Press,

1988],

189).

19.

Scheffauer,

"The

Vivifying

of

Space,"

82.

20.

Ibid.,

83.

21.

Ibid.,

84.

22.

Erwin

Panofsky,Perspective

s

Symbolic

Form,

rans.

Christopher

S.

Wood

(New

York:Zone

Books,

1991),

154 n.

73.

"Die

Perspektive

als

'symbolische

Form"'

was first

published

in the

Vortrdge

er

Bibliothek

Warburg,

924-1925

(Leipzig

and

Berlin,

1927),

258-330.

23. Ernst

Bloch,

"Building

n

Empty Spaces,"

n The

Utopian

Function

of

Art and Literature:

e-

lected

Essays,

trans.

Jack

Zipes

and

Frank

Mecklenburg Cambridge,

Mass.:

MIT

Press,

1988),

196. "Die

Bebauung

des Hohlraums"

was first

published

in Das

Prinzip

Hoffnung

(Frankfurt

m Main:

Suhrkamp,

1959).

24. Ibid. Bloch referred

directly

to

Panofsky's ssay.

25.

Kurz,

Expressionismus

nd

Film,

54;

cited

in

Prawer,

Caligari's

Chil-

dren,

189.

26.

Hugo

Muinsterberg,

ilm:

A

Psy-

chologicalStudy

(New

York:

Dover,

1969).For a generalstudyof his

theory,

see Donald L.

Fredericksen,

The Aesthetic

of

Isolation n Film

Theory:Hugo Miinsterberg

New

York:Arno

Press,

1977).

27.

Munsterberg;

ited

in

Gerald

Mast and

Marshall

Cohen, eds.,

Film

Theory

nd

Criticism:

ntroduc

toryReadings,

3d

ed.

(New

York:

Oxford

University

Press,

1985),

332.

28. Louis

Aragon,

"Du

decor,"

Le

Film

131

(16

September

1918):

8-

10;

trans.

n

Abel,

French

Film

Theory

nd

Criticism,

1:165.

29. Ibid., 166.

30. Erwin

Panofsky,"Style

and Me-

dium in

the

Motion

Pictures,"

Bul-

letin

of

the

Department

of

Art and

Archeology

Princeton

University,

1934).

A

revised

version was

pub-

lished

in

Critique

1,

no.

3

(January-

February

1947);

reprinted

n Mast

and

Cohen,

Film

Theory

nd Criti-

cism,

232.

31.

Ibid.,

218.

32.

Ibid.,

232.

33. Marcel

Carne,

"Quand

e

cinema descendra-t-il

dans la rue?"

Cinemagazine13 (November 1933);

trans.

n

Abel,

French

Film

Theory

and

Criticism,

2:127-29.

34.

Siegfried

Kracauer,

Nature

of

Film: The

Redemption

f

Physical

Reality

(New

York:Oxford Univer-

sity

Press,

1960),

xi. This workwas

later reissued under the title

Theory

of

Film.

58


17/17

Vidler

35.

Ibid.,

52.

Kracauer laborated:

"The

affinity

of film for

haphazard

contingencies

is most

strikingly

demonstrated

by

its

unwavering

us-

ceptibility

to

the 'street'

a

term

designed

to

cover

not

only

the

street,

particularly

he

city

street,

in

the literal

sense,

but

also its various

extensions,

such a

Documents

Anthony Vidler_the explosion of space.pdf