Kevin O, Artist Statement 2: This Time It's Personal.


Okay, here goes.

In 2006, my friend Chase asked me to do him a favor. He was making a film for his final project in the acting program at the U, and he wanted to do it on super-8 film, and he wanted me to shoot it for him, since I had a fair amount of experience shooting super-8.

We ran around the University for a few days putting together his film, a simple, absurdist, existential narrative revolving around a Chaplinesque character played by Chase. We got the film processed, he edited it, and it turned out fine.

In 2007, Chase died in a car accident in Los Angeles. In the days between his death and the memorial service, it occurred to me: I still had the footage of him, which had been transferred from super-8 to digital video, on my hard drive. I had contemplated deleting those files, for the sake of additional hard drive space, just a week or two earlier.

I knew that there was something I needed to find in that footage. So I went through it carefully, really only about 25 minutes total, and salvaged the heads and tails of shots, the discarded takes, and random moments that I had captured without his permission, "wasting his film," which was expensive and pissed him off.

I discovered that he was in there, in the moments around the edges more than anywhere else. I put together a short non-narrative composition from those scraps, like the Native Americans using every part of the buffalo, and to me it was stunningly beautiful, and true - not a documentary, not a fiction, but a vivid elegy built out of fleeting, momentary impressions; the shape of his knuckles, the texture of his hair, tiny idiosyncrasies of his posture and gait.

That experience catalyzed a profound shift in my sensibility as a filmmaker, away from the top-down, neatly organized and perfected constructions of mainstream industrial cinema, and towards an approach that's far more subjective, personal, and ephemeral - and which, paradoxically, comes much closer to accessing an archetypal visual language, with rough imagery that seems as though it was discovered on a cave wall deep beneath the earth, illuminated by flickering torchlight.


I enjoy this statement. It gives a concrete example highlighting your passion for film and how it intersects with your life. I also enjoy this personal approach especially since (as much as I can remember) it was thought that being too personal was not a good idea for a statement (or maybe it was sentimental). Anyways, this is personal and sentimental, but it is incredibly successful. I enjoy how you really don't talk about your actual practice until the last paragraph and do so in a concise manner not overworked with words.

Your statement grabbed my attention and held it through its entirety. I appreciate this quality in a statement. Through the traumatic experience you had which is explained in a very understanding way, I get a sense of where you are coming from with your ideas and visuals. It makes me intrigued to experience your work and see the "rough imagery" and content that it entails.

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