Wavelength
I was recently moved by Michael Snow's 1967 structural film Wavelength, which I saw projected in 16mm in a little room to the side of a bar. Wavelength is a film that plays with perception through pushing the boundaries of cinematic space and temporality to transcendental effect. The film represents a single space (a New York City studio loft), with a zoom that gradually lurches across it over a 45 minute duration. A few events partially occur within the frame: furniture is moved, two women listen to the radio, and a man later collapses on the floor. These events never imply an explicit narrative meaning, they're instead markers of particular points of time in the course of the zoom. While the fading in-and-out of daylight through long windows suggests the rapid passing of days within the image, time feels prolonged for the viewer. The zoom is so gradual that we're often held in place and subjected to a static image of the loft. In an essay on the film, Michael Sicinski describes the Wavelength experience as being akin to being in a 'slow moving car.' This sense of slow chronology is occasionally disrupted by the changing of film stock, superimpositions, and coloured filters that are reminiscent of a sunset or an overexposure of light. While space gradually narrows as the zoom moves inwards, it ultimately comes to rest on a photograph of expansive space; the sea, before eventually fading to endless white.
After the screening I slunk past people drinking in the bar and got some fresh air outside. I ended up walking five kilometres, mulling the experience and readjusting my sense of space as I went along. Everything felt more expansive and sensual. Within the film's rigid boundaries, I had become conscious of the space I was held within. The rackety sound of passing trams outside and the aromas of perfume and red wine around me had added tangible layers to my experience of the film. I could feel myself becoming consumed by the sensuality of space. The essay by Sicinski provided context to this: 'Wavelength dramatises our bodily location in space, thus bringing to light our spatial existence within the cinema. Wavelength asks us to physically dwell within the cinema.'
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| A still from Wavelength taken from towards the beginning of the film |