Scout #2

Scout #2 took place on Friday 19th February 2010.
The film below is a documentational piece showing the surrounding landscape covered in snow. The camera work by myself and Shane Davies is progressional for my work, with the synchronization of the footage being the main aim of the final edit. The actual final film that I showed to a small handful of people to be critiqued was on two monitors. This separated the footage further, with a slight echo created across the monitors' sound. The DVD players the two discs were played in had to be synchronized from the start. Luckily the M.A.P area in Cardiff School of Art and Design had multiple DVD players that are alike, and it is the same with a few of the television monitors. Clearly the amount of monitors and DVD players that are alike are limited. With the formulation of a five screen piece idea slowly transgressing to be an aim for my work at the moment, I am unsure whether all the monitors will be alike, as well as the DVD players (if they were different would they sync together successfully if the all of the discs were looped?)

Scout #2 from Lucy Thompson on Vimeo.

The awareness of the placement of the camera has been an aspect of film work that has continuously intrigued me. From watching Hollywood blockbusters to the so aptly named 'art films' that are less widely advertised, the camerawork can be a feature that many do not obviously notice, with the alternate reality that is depicted in many of these moving images sucking at our attention in a most lazy fashion. To understand the construction of a scene and it's play through for the camera is a challenge for me to pay even closer attention to all that is portrayed in the moving image. It can, sometimes, add intrigue when there is a lack of enjoyment. To view the world through a camera lens is to highlight all the everyday actions and objects that may get overlooked in their reality. The use of two cameras in Scout #2 was to create a sense of place; to follow the simple experience of a walk in this beautiful landscape through the lens of a camera and capture the history, actions of the people, and events that shape it's everyday existence.

It is here that PSYCHOGEOGRAPHY rears it's head once again and attempts to dive into my film work.

Photos of a white Brecon Beacon's landscape...

The area has many manmade reservoirs like the one seen in the distance here.
(This particular reservoir holds a particularly nasty story of a boy drowning in an undercurrent whilst swimming here.)

The top of Corn Du was covered by white cloud that continuously drifted across the mountain and highlighted the potential for the act of getting lost just as Tommy Jones once did on the hillside.

The increasing amount of dark cloud cover that appeared during the scout gave the view of the mountains a rather sinister feel, with a stronger wind whipping up around us and the icy cold filling our lungs.

With many thanks to Shane Davies for helping with this piece. Shane was brought up in Merthyr Tydfil but had never been given the chance to climb Corn Du. For him the experience was like no other, with the clean, fresh and open air clearing his mind and freeing his senses to the view of the Beacon's snowy spectacle.

(See Shane Davies' blog at shanecdavies.blogspot.com)

The depth of the snow was unlike I have ever set foot in. The white blanket that covered these hills completely altered their appearance for me, having walked this path many times before. To capture it as a moving image the experience of a snowy Brecon Beacons will forever be a reminder of how a sense of place can be altered simply by the weather.

An Old and Lengthy Artist's Statement

Since writing this statement my work has taken different paths and progressed into something that has long been an underlying and somewhat pre-visualized aim that surfaced as almost a fantasy two years ago. To present this statement here gives me the chance to understand all the stages and processes that have informed my present work. I am someone who greatly values previous events and decisions, with the continuous creation of history presenting the chance to understand the whats, whys and therefores.

John Grierson, father of British and Canadian documentary film, said in 1970, "It was something altogether new to be looking at ordinary things as if they were extraordinary." This reference to the moving image as documentation relates closely to what using film first became for my artwork. To capture an experience, or capture time, and share it with an audience was the aim for each film I created. To construct a relatable world in which the viewer could draw references to within their own reality, highlighting aspects that are overlooked in the everyday. This basis of my investigation into the moving image has led me to look at how to use the aspects of the everyday in the creation of a fiction.

From using the alter-ego character Robinson, first seen in Daniel Defoe's Robinson Crusoe (1917) and later Patrick Keiller's films Robinson in Space (1997) and London (1992), I began a quest unto using a script consisting of truth, facts and lies to step closer to a fiction. However, having explored the option of a script, eradicating the use of Robinson and a narration opened the possibilities of the content, context and path for fictional film work. Although narration may be an option for future experiments, the film work investigations I am currently exploring involve more personal camerawork; "Using first person in film is a sign of humility. All i have to offer is myself," Chris Maker, 1997. By placing myself in front of the camera I am able to visualize, plan and experience the actions first hand and, in watching them back, understand how they appear from the viewer's perspective.

The shots used in my most recent work are motivated by films such as Gus Van Sant's 2002 film Gerry, in which the camera subtly views the actions and decisions of the actors, helping to build the scene around them rather than continuously changing the placement of the camera. Investigating shot types, angles and movement is an underlying enquiry into creating a fiction. The subject of my films currently coincides with my research into psychogeography. The construction of a journey, whether it's from place to place or past to present, has provided a broad ground to explore possible fictional screenplays.

A condensed and much more relevant statement is on its way...

The Act of Flanerie

Have you ever reflected on everything contained in the term flanerie, this most enchanting word which is revered by poets?

Going on infinite investigations through the streets and promenades; drifting along, with your nose in the wind, with both hands in your pockets, and with an umbrella under your arm, as befits any open-minded spirit; walking along, with serendipity, without pondering where to and without any hurry...

Stopping in front of stores to regard their images, at street corners to read their signs, by the bouquinistes' stands to touch their old books...

Giving yourself over, captivated and enraptured, with all your senses and all your mind, to the spectacle.

Victor Fournel, Ce qu'on voit dans les rues de Paris.

From The Art of Taking a Walk, by Anke Gleber.