For most, and certainly for me, the name “Eames” is synonymous with the couple’s iconic chairs and celebrated Santa Monica home. In contrast, their films tend only to appear as footnotes on their extensive list of groundbreaking achievements. These films however share the principles central to their more eminent creations. Like their architecture and designs, the films of Charles and Ray Eames demonstrated a new and innovative method for operating within an aesthetic field. Their works are irrefutably modernist and perpetuate the rejection of the “ornamental”. This may seem to contradict the assertion that they were decorative modernists. I use “ornamental” to refer not simply to that which is aesthetically ornamental but also ornamental in a narrative sense. Their films avoid characterisation and ornamental narrative-structure, marking the transition from films that only “show what they felt” to those that “tell what they think”.[1]
In his article Poetry of Ideas, Paul Schrader suggests that Charles’ casual attitude to cinematography allowed him to “give film a new way of perceiving ideas”.[2] Unsurprisingly the article concentrates predominantly on Charles, while his “helper” Ray, takes a back seat. This is not an unusual depiction as throughout most of their careers Charles was portrayed as one of, if not the “most influential designer of the century”[3] while Ray served as a scapegoat for his “deviations from Spartan Modernism”.[4] This situation is painfully apparent during their appearance on Good Morning America, specifically Ray’s dispreferred response during the interview. Taking these perceptions into account Schrader’s article provides a most useful insight into the importance of these films within cinematic modernism.
The Eames films acted as vessels for their ideas and convey the developing relationship between cinema and modernism. We see this development throughout their creations, for example their celebrated chairs were designed without upholstery, exposing the back plywood. This conveys a key ideal for the couple; that objects and materials should be appreciated for their intrinsic worth. This notion is central to their 1979 film, Toccata for Toy Trains. In the introduction Charles stipulates, “There is nothing self-conscious about the use of materials… wood is wood” and “tin is tin”, “These are real toys not scale models”.
The idea of “object integrity” came up several times throughout the seminar. The close-up shots and unusual camera angles (e.g shots taken from inside the toy train), have a simultaneously disorientating and immersive effect that encourages the viewer to focus on the authenticity of the objects as they flick across our screen. In both The Blacktop and Toccata for Toy Trains, human presence is omitted. Consequently I found myself conferring agency to objects in a subconscious effort to construct a narrative from the images.
This was especially true for The Blacktop, during which I not only awarded agency but also switched allegiances between objects throughout the course of the film. The absence of establishing shots prevented me from anchoring the water to a specific location and so I was set adrift, forced to navigate between the water as colonizer and water, as colonized. In hindsight it seems silly to anthropomorphize water, but I feel it is a testament to their competency as filmmakers.
I found your point about how the Eames films were used as vessels for their ideas and for developing the relationship between modernism and cinema really compelling. I would also probably even suggest that they were used as a means of portraying themselves, given the intimacy of certain films such as "House After Five Years of Living", and their frequent misrepresentations in the media, such as their appearance on Good Morning America.
ReplyDelete