A few weeks ago, the restored print of the 1924 film ROARING RAILS had its premiere at the Capitol Theatre in Rome, New York as part of the 30th Cinefest Film Festival. Viewing the finished film on the screen in a 1928 movie palace with live organ accompaniment by Dr. Philip C. Carli— and a very appreciative audience— was a satisfying conclusion to a job that we had been working on for over a year.
The starting point of our restoration was the nitrate print repatriated from Holland, which had Dutch intertitles. Since no known script exists, we had 2006 Selznick School graduate Elisa Mutsaers, a resident of The Hague, do the translation of the titles for us. After creating the new English language titles, new color prints (which replicate the tints in the nitrate print) were made at the Haghefilm laboratories in Amsterdam. Any time new preservation materials are made, we look at them on flatbed viewers down in the Motion Picture Department for quality control. We then ran ROARING RAILS at a preservation screening in the Dryden Theatre for the Selznick School students. We never play any music when watching a silent film at preservation screenings, which sometimes makes for a dull screening.
Scenes from the 1924 film ROARING RAILS, starring Harry Carey
Finally seeing it at Cinefest with music and an audience really brought it to life. Many people at the screening commented on how good it looked and what a fun film it was. I’m glad I was able to be there and be part of a special afternoon.
Education, like art, should be about knocking us off our feet and challenging us to understand. And for this reason museums must present ideas one can’t get a handle on.
George Eastman House invites one to consider art outside the comfort zone, by experiencing an exhibition of photographs by the contemporary, and often controversial, artist Roger Ballen. The 74 black-and-white images of his mini-retrospective, titled Roger Ballen: Photographs 1982-2009, are on display through June 6. Ballen himself will join us for a lecture at 6 p.m. Thursday, April 15.
South African artist Ballen is known for his thought-provoking photography and his particular attention to rich detail, photographing his human and animal subjects in complex, fictional scenes filled with symbolism.
Tommy, Samson, and a Mask, 2000, by Roger Ballen
Ballen’s work is fascinating, compelling, mysterious. It encourages viewers to step outside of their understanding of reality in a photograph, challenging them to assess things differently.
Critics have called Ballen’s images powerful social statements that at the same time are disturbing psychological studies. Aperture Magazine described his work as “images from a waking dream; compelling and surrealistic with sparkles of dark humor,” and Australia’s Artlink Magazine said they are “freeze-frame images stolen from the sub-conscious … Ballen’s bizarre tableaux are an illustration of the real world.”
Visitors to Eastman House have recorded both positive and negative remarks in a comment book inside the gallery. One visitor wrote, “Dark, repressive. I see the thoughts in these images, but wonder how and why this art?” Another described the exhibition as “an awake nightmare.” Some have replied with single words, such as “Freakish,” “Creepy,” “Scary,” and “What?” Positive notes include, “Dark but inventive and edgy,” “Touching and inspiring,” and “Thanks for bringing challenging work to Rochester.”
Puppies in Fishtanks, 2000, by Roger Ballen
If one only visits exhibitions of work he or she already knows, or already loves, he or she gets caught up in old, safe ideas, being trotted out yet again. The role of art may well be to describe the process of engagement, an ever vigilant search for what is not understood.
For instance, if one goes to the theater to see Samuel Beckett, whom Roger Ballen marks as one of the people he pays attention to, that theatergoer might come out and not have the slightest understanding of what her or she just saw.
Ballen’s unique artistic vocabulary, which he composes using a square format, creates visual ambiguities as universal metaphors of the human condition. Our relationship with a photograph can be structured in a lot of different ways. Like anyone off on a trail of understanding, Ballen found the camera a way to mediate, to look more strongly, more intently, to segregate an aspect he wanted to examine or look at, and made a picture of it.
In that vein, German filmmaker Werner Herzog said, “Images are almost impossible. Artists had to dig for them within this damaged landscape, and did so simply because we urgently need images to accord with the state of civilization and our own innermost souls.”
Ballen’s photographs of people and places have a wonderfully rich, magical, if not spiritual, engagement of mystery. His subjects are people who may not be your favorite folks to sit down and have dinner with, but perhaps this is an occasion to engage that challenge and that conversation.
At the Ballen exhibition, a visitor will find things here he or she is not used to looking at, whether it be people or ways in which photographs are created. With the right attitude, this art can be very fruitful for all of us, and the promise of the process rewarding.
In the summer of 1931, MGM star John Gilbert began working on a new picture, WEST OF BROADWAY. After completion, BROADWAY was presented to preview audiences before its nationwide release. According to the review in Motion Picture Herald, previewers in Glendale, CA laughed at the dramatic film. The reviewer commented, “If it was the purpose of MGM to lead John Gilbert up to the guillotine and end the waning popularity of one of the most popular stars the silver screen ever known, then West of Broadway is a great success…the picture may be described as the most monotonous piece of cinematic stupidity ever recorded.” Ouch.
Gilbert’s star was fading.
Happier times: Gilbert with Renée Adorée (above-top) and Claire McDowell (above) in THE BIG PARADE (1925).
Born John Cecil Pringle in Logan, Utah to actor parents, Gilbert arrived in Hollywood as a teenager. He first found work as an extra with the Thomas Ince Studios, and quickly rose through the ranks in various studios, building his reputation as an actor.
In 1924 he moved to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and starred in such high-profile silent films as HIS HOUR, HE WHO GETS SLAPPED (both 1924), and THE MERRY WIDOW (1925). Then Gilbert landed the role of Jim in the war epic THE BIG PARADE (1925) [preserved at Eastman House], which became one of the highest grossing silent films in cinema history. Gilbert was now a full-fledged star.
In the trenches: Following THE BIG PARADE (above) Gilbert’s career takes a turn for the worse.
With the coming of sound, John Gilbert, like others, found his career in jeopardy. It’s generally assumed that his voice was inadequate. Actually, he had a fine voice; it was a personality clash with Louis B Mayer and poorly written scripts that did him in. Films like HIS GLORIOUS NIGHT (1929), REDEMPTION and WAY FOR A SAILOR (both 1930) helped end Gilbert’s career.
John Gilbert died in 1935, never recovering to his matinee idol status.
I have seen a few of Gilbert’s silent and sound films, and I am curious to see WEST OF BROADWAY. A comedy on relationships, Gilbert plays Jerry, a wounded WWI veteran who discovers his fiancée has left him for another man. Jerry pretends to have also met someone else, and hires a “fake fiancée” to show off around town. Misunderstanding and chaos ensue as the couples figure what their true feelings are for each other. It was a commercial failure when it premiered— but would romantic comedy audiences today agree with the original reviews? I wish I knew. As the original camera negatives slip through my fingers during inspection, I can’t help but wish I had been there that opening night.
