Transfiguring the commonplace is at the heart of image-making. As humans, we experience our lives daily, but with art we can reorganize the things we have seen or heard to create space to witness our world or our feelings anew. I believe Akira Kurosawa is gesturing towards the threads that hold the work together and, in so doing, connect us. I don’t believe Kurosawa is saying all art is a collection of our memories but that memories are the building blocks from which all art is made. Kerry James Marshall might say of this idea that the creation of art is the process of transmuting our memories and their internal make-up into something new and different. To me, our memories hold the ribosomal matter that constitutes artistic expression. At the heart of memory is emotion—remembering not only the event but the feeling conjured from the event. We experience compassion through our connection to our emotional remembrances: I have felt X in the past, so I can imagine how they might be feeling Y. We create pathways toward empathy, even for situations that could be fundamentally different from our own.
Issue 007 Fall/Winter 2024 Features In Focus
In Focus: Jomo Fray
A Cinematographer's Image-Making ManifestoBy Jomo Fray
October 17, 2024
“Memory is the source of your creation.”
—Akira Kurosawa1
“Artists are not magicians or shamans, prophets or seers. We make stuff, and the devices we use to ‘transfigure the commonplace’ are recognizable. Isolate, re-contextualize, shift scale, shift material, invert, etc.”
—Kerry James Marshall, Young Artist to Be 2
I think cinema is an art that speaks in emotional remembrance: it reproduces human memory and human dreams. Cinema allows those emotional remembrances more pliability than we would experience normally, as film can take our life and help us see it through the life of another—to gain clarity peering through the distortion of the looking glass. Ideally, that makes the movie a dialectic experience rather than a monologic one. The film becomes a conversation between the viewer and the piece, and the piece is strengthened by inviting the viewer in because it’s symbolically dense enough to hold that projection. In a movie like In the Mood for Love (2000) by Wong Kar-wai, the slow languid dolly shots following Tony Leung Chiu-wai and Maggie Cheung are not emotional in and of themselves but are deeply so to me because they invite the viewer to remember their own loves lost. And the familiarity of the feeling, conjured by the image, engenders a more profound experience.
For a cinematographer, the art of cinematic image making is the art of transmuting your director’s ideation into the actual—translating their vision into something a person can see and feel. The collaboration is hopefully the process of the two of you learning to dream together. The question for me is always: how do we infuse our creative process with memory, with emotional remembrance, and how do we make images that are dialectic? All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt (2023) was such an incredible opportunity because the director, Raven Jackson, welcomed some of these more conceptual ways of working and thinking. One of the ways we tried to create emotionally empathic images was through the process of writing and following a visual manifesto.
Manifesto:
01 Stay elemental in the approach
02 Remember water, remember wind
03 The wound is where the light gets in — embody it in every frame
The first thing Raven told me about the script was that she wanted to create a project in search of the ineffable moments that make up a life. Towards that goal, we wanted to build a style of working that would help us foster and find those images—images that could not be orchestrated but only discovered. Before principal photography started, we spent a week just looking at art together, and it was out of that week that we wrote our 12-point manifesto for the film. We would read it together every morning before we started filming.
04 Stay close, stay wide
05 Speak in slant rhymes
06 Embody a raw genre
The beauty of image making for me is the translation from the ethereal to the actual. I love for the visual references in a film to be as conceptual as possible, because that forces the director and me to be in a process of interpretation and translation. That helps us sharpen the juxtapositions in the script so the images are not merely illustrative but truly dialectic—they become laden with meaning so the viewer can grab onto a host of different feelings that resonate.
07 Strive to be in an unending state of nowness within the constant movement of time
08 To be tactile is to have details
09 Landscape as character
010 Compose in depth
The manifesto became the litmus test through which everything passed. It helped galvanize our approach and our images; we wanted to build a reactive style that still had an internally designed poetic logic. The manifesto helped ground the look of the work and put us as filmmakers in conversation with the images we were making. We were following the path the film wanted us to take. That sounds hifalutin, but each day we had a detailed plan and were willing to change our plan if something more interesting was happening on set. The manifesto helped us understand what qualified as more interesting. That way even when we went off track, the work was being held together by this set of higher-order intentions. As a director, Raven is so incredibly sensitive and articulate about how she wants a scene to feel and how she wants a shot to look that the manifesto created a real shorthand language between us on set. It felt like we moved as one unit most days.
011 Be evocative above else
012 Be in the moment — be present to the cinema on set
Footnotes:
- “My Life in Cinema: Akira Kurosawa,” filmed in 1993 for the Directors Guild of Japan, video, https://www.criterionchannel.com/videos/my-life-in-cinema-akira-kurosawa.
- In Peter Nesbett, Sarah Andress, and Shelly Bancroft (eds.), Letters to a Young Artist (New York: Darte Publishing, 2006).