Wednesday, February 1, 1984

Cult of prosperity


I typed up my essay, “The Cult of Prosperity in 1920s America” today, finishing at ten-thirty this evening.

Tonight, as Lee and I slaved at the sink in the now-always filthy kitchen we had an idea for a video/film project. We’d been experimenting with lighter fuel, dowsing unlikely objects with it, igniting it and enjoying the novelty of seeing vigorous flames on a pork pie hat of Barry’s, on mirrors, in the toilet bowl, and even on the foam in the sink. Lee got very very enthusiastic and claimed the idea had taken hold of him in a way nothing had done since the photogram days of May last year.

The idea is to create an air of decay and neglect through long lingering static camera shots, as though of hot summer days in smothered rooms (like the Jacques Tati Hulot films), and into this brooding setting flames will rise serene from the sink of an empty kitchen cluttered with pans and cans of food, caught by the camera as part of the incidental scenery.

This is in almost-conscious reaction against the urban excesses of Ian and co whose imagery pursues well worn channels and stimulates nothing more than fidgets and ill-concealed glazed looks. There’s no conception of the film ‘meaning’ anything, no silent narrative of great philosophic import . . . Love leads to nothing but love, fun to nothing beyond fun: “Love the earth, for there is nothing beyond.”

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