so interesting I wish I had known of his work
before he kicked off.
Of course, lives that straddle WW2
are often so exciting because, despite the
danger, they actually got to try stuff and
do stuff. Life now is so sanitised.
He was a Lithuanian abstract
film maker. I don't agree with his style
which equates to totally unhinged
sociological research. No voiceover,
no attempt to rationalise, at all. Now,
it seems that this is popular on
Eurosport , for example. It gets on
my nerves when they refuse to even
have a ticker tape telling me what's
going on.
It's good to see the original video, as a historical
document, or art, but the rest of us also need an
explanation, once in a while.
Anyway, his life, and the company this fella
kept was quite amazing. what happy trails he had.
Checkit: The Observer
Jonas
Mekas: the man who inspired Andy Warhol to make films
Jonas
Mekas, 'the godfather of avant-garde cinema', talks to Sean O'Hagan about
working with Andy Warhol, Salvador Dali and Jackie Kennedy
Sean O'Hagan
Saturday 1 December 2012
19.45 GMT
Jonas
Mekas, who will be 90 on Christmas Eve, has an intense memory of sitting on his
father's bed, aged six, singing a strange little song about daily life in the
village in which he grew up in Lithuania.
"It
was late in the evening and suddenly I was recounting everything I had seen on
the farm that day. It was a very simple, very realistic recitation of small,
everyday events. Nothing was invented. I remember the reception from my mother
and father, which was very good. But I also remember the feeling of intensity I
experienced just from describing the actual details of what my father did every
day. I have been trying to find that intensity in my work ever since."
We
are sitting at a table in the small kitchen area of Mekas's expansive studio in
Brooklyn beneath a fading photograph of Arthur Rimbaud, one of his abiding
inspirations. Around us, boxes full of archive material are stacked high in
every available space: prints, diaries, rolls of film, letters, essays – all
the obsessively recorded evidence of a life lived in thrall to the intensity of
the everyday
…
Mekas
is an integral figure in the history of what used to be called underground
cinema, not just as a film-maker, but as a writer, a curator and a catalyst. In
1969, he helped set up the Anthology Film Archives in New York, which houses
the most extensive library of experimental films in existence, and he has since
overseen the restoration of many classics of the form. His conversation is
peppered with the names of the more famous people he worked with in the golden
age of avant-garde film-making in the 1960s, from Yoko Ono to Jackie Kennedy,
Allen Ginsberg and the Beats to the Warhol set. Many of these figures ended up
in his films, which have in turn influenced the likes of Jim Jarmusch, Harmony
Korine, John Waters and Mike Figgis.
…
In
person, Mekas is a mischievous character, dressed in a blue work jacket and
cap, his eyes half-closed and sleepy-looking until he fixes you with a
penetrating stare. He was born in the small village of Semeniskiai in northern
Lithuania on 24 December 1922. It was a place, he says, "where nothing
happened, then suddenly everything happened". As a child, he contacted a
mystery illness that left him so thin and sickly looking that the local boys
nicknamed him "Death", so he retreated into books and wrote
obsessively in his diaries. He was 17, when, in 1940, Soviet tanks rumbled into
Lithuania. He hid behind a wall in his village and began photographing them on
his first camera, but never saw the results. A Russian soldier angrily snatched
his camera and confiscated the film. "Everything changed when the Russians
came," he says now. "How we farmed, how we lived, all was swept
away."
In
1941, when the German army moved into Lithuania, Mekas joined the resistance,
helping to publish a regular, clandestinely distributed bulletin of news culled
from BBC radio broadcasts. When his typewriter mysteriously went missing, he
buried his diaries in a field and fled the country for Vienna with his brother,
Adolfas, fearing the authorities could trace him though the typeface and send
him to a labour camp or worse.
Arrested
en route, they were taken to a labour camp near Hamburg, where they spent eight
months before escaping and hiding in a barn near the Danish border. When the
war ended, they were moved from one displaced persons' camp to another for two
years. "We watched bad American films to pass the time," he says.
"We grew listless and wondered what would happen to us."
…
In
New York, Mekas encountered a burgeoning underground culture of artists,
writers, musicians, photographers and film-makers, regularly crossing paths
with the likes of Allen Ginsberg, film-maker Maya Deren, Robert Frank, John
Cage and musician La Monte Young, many of whom came to his Manhattan loft for
his regular film evenings. In 1954, he and Adolfas created Film Culture
magazine, which analysed cinema in all its forms but concentrated mainly on
avant-garde cinema. Among its contributors were director Peter Bogdanovich (who went on to direct The Last Picture Show),
experimental film-maker Stan Brakhage and critic Andrew Sarris.
Simultaneously,
Mekas started writing a film column, Movie Journal, for the Village Voice.
Then, in 1962, he co-founded the Film-Makers' Cooperative and, in 1964, began
showing independent films on a regular basis at the Film-makers Cinematheque,
both ventures becoming the foundation for what would become the Anthology Film
Archives, dedicated to preserving and showing experimental films.
…
Warhol
had been a regular at the impromptu screening nights held at Mekas's Manhattan
loft. "We became friends after Naomi Levine [one of Warhol's
"superstars"] invited me to his party and I realised it was the same
white-haired guy who had come to sit on the floor and watch my films. I always
remember that we went to see a La Monte Young performance where one note was
stretched out to four or five hours. It was soon after that I helped Andy make
Empire. Young was making time stretch in sound; Andy picked up the idea and
repeated it visually."
Mekas
also befriended the Velvet Underground, allowing them to rehearse in his loft
and filming their famous gig at the New York Society for Clinical Psychiatry at
Delmonico's Hotel in New York in January 1966. Legend has it that it was Mekas
and his friend, experimental film-maker Barbara Rubin, who introduced Warhol to
Lou Reed.
Jonas
Mekas films of Lennon, Kennedy, Dali Filmed by Jonas Mekas: (from left) John
Lennon and Yoko from Happy Birthday to John, 1996; Jackie Onassis with her
children from This Side of Paradise, 1999; Mekas and Salvador Dalí, from In
Between, 1978. Copyright: Jonas Mekas
Another visitor to the loft
around that time was Salvador Dalí, who, Mekas says, "felt he needed to be
in touch with the younger generation and knew something was happening in New
York". Mekas remembers Dalí "clunk, clunk, clunking up the stairs to
my floor", where they agreed that Mekas should film one of the artist's
impromptu street happenings. On 18 April 1964, Mekas filmed Salvador Dalí at
Work, which featured the model Veruschka being tied up on the street by a
grinning Mekas and later being covered in shaving cream by Dalí.
Perhaps
more surprising still was Mekas's friendship with former first lady Jacqueline
Kennedy, whom he first met though the artist, photographer and socialite Peter
Beard. For a while, he tutored her children, John and Caroline, in film-making.
"I spent a few summers in their house in Montauk," he says, smiling.
"I wrote the children a little manual and gave them various exercises to
do." John Kennedy Jr, it seems, grasped the Mekas method instinctively.
"I remember he won an award at school for a multiple-screen, diary-style
film he made about his summer holidays."
…
The short
films that Mekas made with these now
iconic figures are glimpses of an era when avant-garde cinema was at its peak.
From the emergence of the Beat movement in the mid-1950s to the burgeoning of
the American hippie counter-culture a decade later, and on into the 70s, Mekas
was in the vanguard of that revolution, with highly personal films such as
Reminiscences of a Journey to Lithuania (1971-72) and Lost Lost Lost (1976),
which is made up of six reels that cover his arrival in New York and his
interactions with the likes of Robert Frank, LeRoi Jones and, surreally, singer
Tiny Tim.
…