Transcript: Exposures: The Art of Film amd Video Program 2 | Jul 07, 2005

(music plays)
Fast clips on screen show blurry videos of people in tunnels and bridges. The bottom of the screen shows landscapes and cloudy skies. People appear on screen using old cameras.

A black slate reads "TVONTARIO and The Ontario Arts Council present" followed by the show’s title: "EXPOSURES. The Art of Film and Video."

Ross appears on screen. He’s in his mid-thirties. He has short dark hair and is clean-shaven. He wears a white shirt underneath a black cardigan. A caption reads "Ross Turnbull. The memory of Joy."

Ross says WHAT I WAS
TRYING TO DO WITH THIS PIECE WAS
TO EVOKE EMOTION IN PEOPLE THAT
WAS VERY DIFFERENT FROM THE KIND
OF EMOTION THAT I HAD EVOKED
WITH A COUPLE OF PREVIOUS ONES.
SO IT COMES
OUT OF A CONTEXT OF WORKING ON
TWO PIECES IN PARTICULAR THAT
WERE ABOUT VIOLENT POLITICAL
CONFLICT.
SO I WANTED TO MAKE A PIECE THAT
WAS ABOUT JOYOUS EMOTION, AS
OPPOSED TO MOURNING AND A DEEP
SEATED SADNESS THAT COMES OUT OF
MY READING OF VIOLENT POLITICAL
CONFLICT.
THE SECOND THING I WANTED TO DO
WAS TO MAKE A PIECE THAT TAKES A
LOT LONGER TO TALK ABOUT THAN IT
DOES TO WATCH.
AND I THINK THAT THIS PIECE DOES
THAT.
IN ITS SECTIONS, THERE'S
SOMETHING FOR EVERYONE IN A
SENSE, AND I WANTED TO MAKE
VISUAL JOKES, PUNS, THAT ARE
THERE, THEY'RE SUBTLE, BUT
THEY'RE THERE.
AND I WANTED TO MAKE A PIECE
THAT WOULD WORK ON MANY
DIFFERENT LEVELS.
THAT WAS DENSE ENOUGH TO GIVE A
LOT OF FOOD FOR THOUGHT.

A video plays on screen. A slate reads "PICTURE" in white capital letters followed by a countdown. The credits read "A Zonial Pictures Incorporated production. The Memory of Joy."

("My Blue Heaven" plays on piano)

Fast clips show different parts of a beach house.

A song plays and the lyrics go
DAY IS ENDING
BIRDS ARE WENDING
BACK TO THE SHELTER OF
EACH LITTLE NEST THEY LOVE
NIGHT SHADE'S FALLING
LOVE BIRDS CALLING
WHAT MAKES THE WORLD GO ROUND
NOTHING BUT LOVE
THE WHIP-POOR-WILLS CALL
AND EVENING IS NIGH
I HURRY TO MY BLUE HEAVEN
I TURN TO THE RIGHT
A LITTLE WHITE LIGHT
WILL LEAD YOU TO
MY BLUE HEAVEN.

A series of close ups show the water, the vegetation by the shore, and a girl coming out of the water. The images are black and white, but the girl’s eyes are shocking blue.


Next, black and white pictures show captions of people posing in groups or individually.

A Male Narrator says THIS IS THE
STORY OF A MAN LOST IN HIS OWN
HISTORY.
HIS HAS LANGUISHED HERE AT THE
EDGE OF MEMORIES THAT OVERWHELM
HIM.
HIS IS A FAMILIAR STORY, ONE WE
KNOW WHEN WE LOOK AT THE
PHOTOGRAPHS OF OUR ANCESTORS,
RECOGNISABLE AND YET UNKNOWN.
THEIR EYES GAZE AT US, PERHAPS
WITH EQUANIMITY OR HUMOUR,
DISDAINFUL, INTERROGATORY.
BUT THEY ARE STRANGERS, AND LIKE
THE PAST, THE TERRAIN ENGULFING
THE MAN, THEY ARE ELUSIVE.
TALK WITH THEM IS UNATTAINABLE.
THIS IS THE STORY OF VOICES LOST
TO US.

In an old clip, a couple hugs.

Synthetic music plays while the screen turns black and contrasting red letter show flashing text.

Next, fast clips show two people playing in the sand by the water, a close up to the sea, a cross on top of a church and a dark scene in a city from under a bridge.

The Narrator says THIS IS A NARRATIVE
OF A MAN SEEING.
HE IS A SPECIALIST IN
PERCEPTION.
HE IS A PHILOSOPHER OF THE
OCULAR.
HE HAS SPOKEN WITH THOSE WHO
SEE, BUT NOT AS WE DO.
THOSE WHO DISCERN PATTERNS
WITHOUT FORMULATION, THOSE WHOSE
ANALOGUES ARE RADICALLY
DIFFERENT FROM YOURS.
INSTEAD OF COLOUR, THERE IS
SMEARED MONOCHROME.
IN LIEU OF SHAPE AND LINE, THERE
IS WAVERING AND DISSOLUTION,
RATHER THAN DEPTH, THERE IS
UNIDIMENSIONAL FLATNESS.
THIS IS A NARRATIVE OF A MAN WHO
SEES THE MYSTERY OF THINGS
RENEWED DAILY.
THIS IS A STORY OF FAITH IN
VISIONS.

An old black and white clip shows troops marching as well as two men sharing a document. Military men talk to the press and a plane is set on fire and crashes in the water.

The Narrator continues
HISTORY, WE ARE PERSUADED, IS
NATURAL.
IT IS LINEAR, PROGRESSIVE,
UNSTOPPABLE, UNCOILING LIKE A
GREAT CABLE FROM A CENTRAL DRUM,
INELUCTABLE.
THIS IS A REMINDER THAT THINGS
ARE NOT NECESSARILY WHAT THEY
SEEM.
WE ARE GIVEN TO UNDERSTAND
HISTORY AS A NARRATIVE WE TELL
OURSELVES TO CREATE SENSE OUT OF
CHAOS.
HISTORY IS NOT AS INEVITABLE AS
WE THINK.
HERE AT THE EDGE OF THINGS, A
BOAT FLOATS IN A HARBOUR.
IT IS IDYLLIC.
THERE IS NO SEASICKNESS, THERE
ARE NO STORMS.
THE JELLYFISH WAITING TO STING
HANG BACK, RESTRAINED,
RESPECTFUL.
THIS IS THE STORY OF HOW WE
CLEANED UP OUR ACT.
THIS IS A NAUTICAL HISTORY.
IN ECONOMIC HISTORY, THERE IS A
DIFFERENT ENDING.
THIS WATER WE SEE, WILL SINK
INTO THE MUD AND THEN WILL SEEP
AWAY.

Fast black and white clips mix footage of a ship sailing calm waters with footage from the war with explosions and bombarding. A ship sinks.

The Narrator continues
THE BOAT WILL REMAIN ANCHORED TO
THE SEABED, IMMOVABLE.
WATER SHAPERS WILL SCRATCH THEIR
HEADS IN CONSTERNATION.
WHERE IS THE WATER, THE STUFF OF
LIFE?
WHY HAS IT DISAPPEARED?

New fast clips show a wounded man being cured, someone writing part of the script on paper, a close up to blue flowers and parts of a girl’s face and hair. A little girl blowing candles and a swan in the water.

The Narrator says THIS IS THE STORY
OF A WOMAN ESTRANGED.
SHE HAS LOOKED AND FOUND THE
SOURCE OF HER JOY AND IT IS
UNRELIABLE.
SHE MUST COUNT ON OTHER THINGS.
THIS, THEN IS THE HISTORY OF HER
DESIGN.
SHE IS ALONE, AND THEY, WHOM SHE
LOVED, ARE GONE.
HER GRIEF WAS ASSUAGED WITH
TIME, AS GRIEF CAN BE.
BUT IT IS LIKE A THING STARVED,
THOUGH WITHOUT DYING.
IT CAN BE REVIVED, FED AGAIN.
IT IS LIFELONG, SHE HAS LEARNED,
AND SO THE JOY THAT COMES IS
SWEET, BUT SHORT LIVED.

New red letters cover the black and white images while passing over the screen. The images feature part of the face of a man, a man with long hair in bed, a little baby, a mother with a baby and a band playing jazz music.

The Narrator continues
THIS IS THE STORY OF ME.
I AM WRITTEN HERE, AS NO OTHER
IS.
I CAN SAY THIS IS TRUTH AND THIS
FALSEHOOD.
WHO CAN SAY OTHERWISE?
THIS IS MY HISTORY.
WHEN I WAS BORN, MY FEATURES
WERE HIDDEN.
I WAS UNKNOWN BY MY MOTHER UNTIL
THOSE BRAVE ENOUGH TO TELL HER
THE TRUTH, WORKED UP THEIR
COURAGE.
TO THEIR AMAZEMENT, I WAS THE
SOURCE OF UNEXPECTED JOY.
I ENGENDERED FOR HER A VISION OF
A POSSIBLE FUTURE.

Fast black and white clips mix footage from the war with performing arts shows. A nurse visits a room, a series of electrical appliances, a glass with alcohol and ice being refilled several times, and a girl on a car smiling while the wind touches her face.

The Narrator continues
I MIGHT BE THIS, I MIGHT BE
THAT.
BUT OF MY FEATURES, NOTHING MUST
BE SAID.
OF MY EYES, WITH THE CENTRE OF
THE SUN FOLDING, ONLY
WHISPERINGS MIGHT BE HEARD, AND
NEVER IN MY HEARING.
IT IS A HISTORY OF A NORMAL
LIFE, WHATEVER THAT IS.
ENTERING INTO THE WORLD, MY
MOTHER WAS REMINDED THAT NORMAL
IS RELATIVE.
HER JOY WAS DIMINISHED AND SHE
RETREATED.
THIS IS THE STORY OF HER SELF
ENCLOSURE.
MY MOTHER SITS NOW, HER MOTOR
SKILLS HAVE BEEN TRANSFORMED
INTO A WILLFUL MENTAL ENERGY,
FOCUSSED ON ITS OWN DRUGGING.
THIS IS THE STORY OF NEVER
ENDING JOY, OF EXALTATION THAT
REMAINS.
OF JOY THAT SUCCUMBS TO NO
GRIEF.
MEMORIES ARE FAULTY.
I SELECT THEM AT RANDOM AND TEST
THEM AGAINST THOSE OF MY
SIBLINGS WHO WERE THERE, AND OUR
VERSIONS RARELY COINCIDE.

Next, fast black and white clips kids enjoying the beach, a sailing boat speeding up, close ups of the water and the picture of a little girl with an old phone in her ear. The caption below changes to "Rienkemoi." Next, a boy appears and it changes to "Padimaj." More kids appear and the captions continue to change to "Honour, Covetnot, Nontuer, Nonvoler and Adulterina."

The Narrator continues
THE FAMILY PICNIC WAS NOT
LAKESIDE AS I THOUGHT, BUT HELD
IN THE GREAT PARK IN THE MIDDLE
OF THE CITY.
THE VAST WATER I LOOKED OUT UP
WAS AN ARTIFICIAL POND, AND THE
BOAT I SAW SMALL IN THE
DISTANCE, WAS MERE FEET AWAY.
AND SMALL IN FACT, AND RADIO
CONTROLLED.
MY MEMORY PLAYS JOKES ON ME.
IT IS A PARALLEL CONSCIOUSNESS.
I HAVE EACH NAME IN HONOUR OF A
COMMANDMENT BY MY PIOUS
PROSELYTISING PARENTS.
AND ME, I'M THE
11th, WHAT IS THE 11th
COMMANDMENT?
THOU SHALT REMEMBER.

A hand writes down part of the script. Following, a blond woman appears on screen. She looks thoughtful. A woman in her twenties enter a room and fast clips show close ups to people’s eyes.

The Narrator says THIS IS THE STORY
OF MY GREAT LOVE FOR YOU, OF
WHAT I BECAME WHEN I LEARNED
THAT YOU WERE DYING.
THERE ARE SOME PEOPLE WHO REMAIN
INCONSOLABLE, TO WHOM COMFORT IS
IMPOSSIBLE.
I FIND MYSELF AMONG THEM.
WHEN I LEARNED THAT YOUR LIFE
COULD BE COUNTED IN DAYS, I CAST
BACK TO OUR FIRST MEETING.
NONE COULD HAVE THOUGHT OUR
LIVES COULD BE JOINED AS THEY
HAVE BEEN.
NONE FORESAW OUR FIERCE JOY IN
EACH OTHER, JUST AS NO ONE COULD
PREDICT, SO NOW NO ONE CAN RIVAL
OUR MEMORIES OF EACH OTHER.
OF ALL THOSE WHOM WE SEE, WE
ONLY KNOW A SMALL PORTION OF
THEIR NARRATIVE.
EACH IS SEALED FROM THEIR
NEIGHBOUR.
OF ALL THE NARRATIVES OTHER THAN
MY OWN, I KNOW YOURS BEST.
THEY HAVE RUN IN CONCERT AND IT
IS BEYOND PAIN TO THINK THAT NOW
MY MEMORIES WILL PROCEED ALONE.
I WANT THAT BOOK TO COME ALIVE.
THE ONE WHERE MEMORIES ARE
PASSED ON LIKE OTHER FAMILY
CHARACTERISTICS, GENETICALLY
ENCODED INFORMATION THAT WE
INHERIT LIKE BLUE EYES AND NAPPY
HAIR.
WHY SHOULD EACH OF US START ANEW
AS IF NOTHING HAS COME BEFORE?
INSTEAD OF THE PAST BEING LIKE A
DARK CURTAIN, OCCASIONALLY CAST
ASIDE SO WE CAN CATCH A BRIGHT
GLIMPSE OF WHAT'S BEHIND, IT
WOULD BE LIKE A WELL DOWN WHICH
WE LOOK IN SHARP FOCUS AT ALL
THE MEMORIES OF THOSE PRECEDING
US.
SOME ARE FURTHER AWAY,
DIMINISHING IN THE DISTANCE, BUT
NO LESS VIVID FOR THAT.
I WANT THIS TO BE YOUR STORY,
THAT WITH YOUR DYING YOU FIND
YOUR PLACE IN THE WELL, THAT I
CAN LOOK AT CALMLY, IMMEDIATE
AND WATCHFUL.

The screen zooms in and homes in on the face of a little kid. A circle closes in the kid’s face and the screen turns black.

Next, a clip shows a house, a lake, a forest and a church.

The Narrator continues
WHEN WE LIVED IN THAT LARGE
WOODEN HOUSE ON THE HILL, DO YOU
REMEMBER THE CHURCH IN THE YARD
BELOW, WITH THE STEPS LEADING TO
IT THAT WERE TREACHEROUS IN THE
RAIN?
DO YOU REMEMBER THE FALLS IN THE
MILL ACROSS THE RIVER?
WHEN WE LIVED IN THAT HOUSE, I
THOUGHT IT CONTAINED EVERYTHING
I WOULD EVER NEED.
I THOUGHT THAT AN EMOTIONAL LIFE
COULD BE REPLETE WITH WHAT ONE
COULD GIVE TO ANOTHER.
I THOUGHT OUR SELF CONTAINMENT
WOULD WARD OFF ALL COMERS.
YOU SAID, "LET'S NOT HAVE ANYONE
ELSE OUT HERE.
IT'S OURS ALONE."
EVEN OUR PARENTS, YOUNG AS WE
WERE, KNEW TO STAY AWAY.
A REPUBLIC OF TWO WITH STRICT
BORDER CONTROLS.
WHEN I WAS YOUNG, I THOUGHT AS
THE YOUNG DO, THAT SOME THINGS
ARE NOT TRANSIENT.
THAT FOREVER IS A REALISTIC
WORD.
I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN.
WHY DID YOU LET OUR DEFENCES
DOWN?
WHAT HAPPENED, WHEN THE WALLS
WERE BREACHED, THAT YOU DIDN'T
WANT TO REPAIR THEM?
YOU CAME TO LOVE HIM, DIDN'T
YOU?

The blond woman appears again. She’s in bed with a man. Next, she washes her face and puts on makeup.

The Narrator continues
YOU LEARNED THAT AN EMOTIONAL
LIFE IS IMPOSSIBLE TO FIX IN
TIME, THAT IT GROWS, EVEN WHEN
WE THINK IT COMPLETE.
THAT THE COMPLETENESS ITSELF IS
A SIGN THAT SOMETHING IS UP.
YOU LEARNED THAT I WASN'T
EVERYTHING I WAS CRACKED UP TO
BE.
I DIDN'T EXPECT THAT, I HAVE TO
ADMIT.
I THOUGHT I HAD IT FIGURED.
IT'S HARD TO FACE THIS PART OF
IT FOR ME.
WHEN YOU CAME BACK, MY MEMORIES
COULD START AGAIN, BUT THERE'S
THAT PERIOD WHEN YOU WERE GONE,
THAT I HAVE TO SAY, IS STILL A
BLACK HOLE FOR ME.

The woman goes back to bed. She appears naked in a different room. Next, she’s back in bed with the man. They hug, she puts her head in his chest. They don’t speak.

Fast clips show a man in front of a microfone, men and women in groups carrying their belongings, footage from the war, refugees crossing a river and transporting their things.

The Narrator says THE IS THE STORY OF
FORGIVING.
DURING THE DEPTH OF MY WORST
MOMENTS, I THOUGHT IT A VIRTUE
AVAILABLE ONLY TO SAINTS, AN
IMPOSSIBLE ATTAINMENT.
I WOULD NURSE MY GRIEVANCE
FOREVER.
I WOULD BE HARD, AND IMPOSSIBLE
TO APPROACH.
THERE WOULD BE NOBILITY IN THIS,
BUT PERHAPS ALSO LONELINESS.
THEN I LEARNED THAT GRIEVANCES
REQUIRE SUSTENANCE.
THAT EVEN MINE COULD BE LOOKED
UPON AS PETTY.
THEY'RE NOT OF THE SAME ORDER AS
GRIEVANCES HELD BY A PEOPLE.
THESE CAN BE NURTURED, AND
IMPORTANTLY, IF THEY WERE TRUE
AND NOT ENCOURAGED OUT OF SOME
FALSE EMOTION, TRULY REMEMBERED,
SO THAT THE MOMENT FOR REDRESS
WILL ALWAYS BE BORNE IN MIND.
HISTORY, I THINK, IS FULL OF
BOTH KINDS, THE TRUE ONES WHICH
NEED ANSWERING, AND THE
MANUFACTURED GRIEVANCE THAT
GIVES RISE TO A SENSE OF GUILT.
PEOPLES MUST BE ABLE TO SAY, AS
I SAY TO YOU FREELY, I FORGIVE
YOU.
NOW WILL YOU FORGIVE ME?

A man walks in the snow. Next, huge bombardments are shown, explosions, pages of a journal, old black and white pictures and a handwritten note.

The Narrator continues
THIS IS THE STORY OF HOW WE ARE
MADE OUT TO BE LOST IN OUR OWN
HISTORY.
WE LOOK AT OUR ANCESTORS AND
CAN'T TELL WHY THEY BROUGHT UPON
US OUR PRESENT HORRORS AND WHY
WE SO READILY AGREED.
EVEN THE CHRONOLOGY IS
UNCERTAIN, SUCH IS THE DENSITY
OF EVENT.
WE'RE TIED TO IT EVEN SO.
FROM THIS MOMENT FORWARD, MAKE
EACH PASSING MOMENT PART OF A
HISTORY OF EFFORT, A TESTAMENT
TO OUR DETERMINATION TO REMAKE
THE WORLD'S UNFOLDING AS A THING
OF BEAUTY AND JUSTICE.
LET GO THE EMPOWERMENT OF
VIOLENCE.
TELL THE FUTURE STORY OF OUR
DENSY HISTORY AS A NARRATOR OF
COMPASSION WHO KNOWS IT IS NOT
POSSIBLE.

(music plays)

The end credits roll.

Written and directed by Ross Turnbull.

Produced by Ross Turnbull and Jennifer Hazel.

Copyright, 2003.

A caption reads "END."

Next, a new episode starts and Phillip appears on screen.

He’s in his fifties. He has short grey hair and is clean-shaven. He wears a red Polo shirt. The caption changes to "Phillip Barker. A temporary arrangement."

Phillip says THE FILM CAME
OUT OF AN EXPERIMENT.
I WAS PRODUCING FOOTAGE FOR AN
INSTALLATION-SLASH-LIVE
PERFORMANCE.
AND I WAS JUST INTERESTED IN
CREATING A WAY OF...
A NEW WAY OF LOOKING AT BODIES
IN WATER OF HOW TO
MAKE A CAMERA STRUCTURE THAT
FLOATED WITH THE PEOPLE FLOATING
DOWN THE RIVER, TO SEE WHAT
WOULD HAPPEN.
I INVITED 8 MEMBERS OF MY FAMILY
AND FRIENDS TO COME UP TO THE
RIVER AND BRING ALONG AN OBJECT
THAT THEY COULD FLOAT AWAY, THAT
SORT OF REPRESENTED THEMSELVES.
AND OUT OF ALL THIS FOOTAGE THAT
WE GOT, A NARRATIVE WAS
SUGGESTED.
IT SORT OF CAME OUT OF IT.
A MAN TRIPPED WHO WAS GOING
AGAINST THE STREAM, AGAINST THE
FLOW OF THE WATER.
HE TRIPPED AND FELL IN THE
WATER, AND IT BECAME THIS
EMOTIONAL POINT.
AND HOW PEOPLE REACTED TO THE
WATER WAS VERY INTERESTING, TOO,
HOW WILLING THEY WERE TO GO,
FLOAT ON THE SURFACE, TO BE
BELOW OR ABOVE IT, REVEALED SOME
THINGS TO ME ABOUT THEM.

The film starts and the title appears. It reads "A temporary arrangement."

A black and white clip shows the calm water sand coasts of a river. A hand catches a fruit from the water. A woman in her fifties appears next. She eats the fruit and closes her eyes.

Next, the screen appears divided in nine blocks. They all project a part of the face of a woman with short dark hair, with her eyes shut. She opens her eyes, raises her hand and the screens zoom out. The little screens show now different angles and close ups of the same image.

(music plays)

Next, a man in a suit floats in the water. He moves loosely. Suddenly, he gets up. The same screen divided in nine shows different parts of the man’s face. He’s mostly bald and clean-shaven. He appears smiling and frowning repeatedly.

Next, a woman in a dress plays in the water. The screen shows her and the sides of the river. While still in the water, she stands up and walks. She looks up and smiles. The man in the suit comes walking in the water. He falls, but gets back up and continues his walk.

The screen splits again showing nine different people moving across the water simultaneously. They all put in the water an element that represents a type of job or activity. The man in the suit releases the newspaper he was holding and the water carries it away. He falls backwards and floats. Again, the screen shows all nine people floating on their backs.
(piano music plays)

The end credits roll.

Copyright Phillip Barker, 1995.

A new episode starts and Katherine appears on screen. She’s in her late thirties. She has short dark hair and wears black rimmed glasses, a black patterned silk fitted jacket over a red blouse. The caption changes to "Katherine Knight. Marguerite."

Katherine says MARGUERITE
IS A PORTRAIT OF MARGUERITE
BOURGEOYS, A 17th CENTURY NUN,
AND THE FIRST UNCLOISTERED NUN
IN CANADA AND TO ME,
IT'S REALLY A PORTRAIT OF
SUCCESS AND STRUGGLE.
IT'S ABOUT ACHIEVING THE MOST
YOU CAN WITHIN THE CARDS THAT
LIFE DEALS TO YOU, AND IN SOME
WAYS, SHE'S A BIT OF AN ALTER
EGO FOR ME, PERHAPS.
I DISCOVERED HER ON A TOUR OF
CONVENTS IN MONTREAL.
SISTER QUIGLEY TOOK ME FOR A
WALK THROUGH A CRYPT.
SHE SAID, "AND HERE IS
MARGUERITE'S CRYPT," AND I WAS
HOOKED.
I LOOKED FOR HER NARRATIVE, HER
STORY.
COULDN'T FIND ONE I THOUGHT WAS
ACCURATE OR RICH, SO I
RESEARCHED, WROTE MY OWN,
PHOTOGRAPHED, COMPILED THEM ALL
TOGETHER TO MAKE A SORT OF, I
GUESS AN ANIMATED FILM IN A WAY.
IT'S ALL STILL IMAGES, AND WITH
A VOICEOVER THAT TELLS THE
STORY OF MARGUERITE, AND I THINK
ALSO OF MAY MORE PEOPLE.

The film starts. A black slate shows the title: "Marguerite."

The screen shows a black and white image of the water from the coast. Following, new images show close ups of dates and information written on old files.

A Female Narrator says I AM
MARGUERITE, FIRST TEACHER IN
MONTREAL, FIRST UNCLOISTERED NUN
IN CANADA.
IRREVOCABLE ACTION, CONSEQUENCES
INHERENT.
WHAT I HAVE DONE, WHERE I HAVE
BEEN.
LAND BORDERS WATER, SETTLER IS
SURROUNDED.
DISTANCE IS THE IMPLICATION.
OCEANS ARE WIDE, STREAMS ARE
NARROW, POOLS ARE OLD.
WHAT I SEE FROM WHERE I STAND...
STRIPS OF TREES ARE OPPOSING
BANKS.
RIBBONS OF WATER SEPARATE
MOUNTAINS OF ROCK.
CLUMPS OF WEEDS ARE MOUNDS OF
DIRT.
CHASTENESS IS NOT DIFFICULT,
OBEDIENCE IS RULE.
I AM NOT A SETTLER GIVEN OXEN,
BUT A WOMAN GIVEN STONE.
THE QUIET OF MY LANDSCAPE IS THE
QUIET OF MY CORRIDOR.
MY ARM IS MY SLEEVE, SLEEVES ARE
MY POCKET.
POCKETS ARE MY KEEP.
SKIRTS TURN, CORNERS TRAIL,
KNEES BRUISED, KNEES BEND, SHINS
CRACK, ACHE IS MY SEEPING, ANGER
IS THE WEDGE.
I AM NAMED.
DAYS ARE POETIC, IT IS POETIC.
INTONATIONS ARE INCANTATIONS,
AND WHISPERS SHOULDER AND TURN.
THIS IS THE ECHO OF THE NEW DAY.
SHOOT DUCKS, HUNT RABBITS, CATCH
FISH, GROW CORN, PRESERVE FRUIT,
WEAVE CLOTH, SWIM WITH THE
CURRENT, SHELTER FROM THE RAIN,
KEEP QUILLS FROM PORCUPINES.
REMEMBER, WEAR BOOTS IN WINTER
WEATHER.
THIS IS THE NEW WAY.
DOUBT IS NO LIGHT HEARTED
COMPANION.
SOUND BELLS IN HIGH WIND, DOES
VOICE CARRY?
CALL.
TREES WAKE LEAVES, BULLS WAKE
HORNS, AND THE BROWN GROUND IS
WHITE BENEATH FLAGS ON POLES
PLANTED.

Fast black and white pictures continue to show pieces of natural scenes mixed with close ups to documents and dates.

The Narrator continues
THIS IS ESCARPMENT, OUTLINE OF
ONE LANDSCAPE... LIVE BETWEEN
THE RIVER AND THE MOUNTAIN.
THERE IS ONE MOUNTAIN, THERE ARE
TWO RIVERS.
FOREST IS CHEST, MARSH IS
COLLAR, ROADWAYS ARE RUTTED,
ORCHARDS ARE OVERGROWN.
ONE FLOOD, NO SOUND, AND I AM
WELL, DUG BETWEEN TWO GREAT
BUILDINGS.
A NEW LAND, A NEW COLONY, WE ARE
250 SETTLERS IN THE VILLAGE OF
VILLE MARIE, ON THE ISLAND OF
MONTREAL.
JEANNE MASSE IS THE NURSE, I AM
THE TEACHER, I CARRY WATER, I
SWEEP TWO FLOORS, I ENCOURAGE 20
WOMEN.

A series of images show pictures of landscapes.

The Narrator continues
THE NEEDS OF THE COLONY ARE MY
NEEDS.
FOR EIGHT YEARS NO CHILDREN
SURVIVED TO BE MY STUDENTS.
IN 1658, THE FIRST SCHOOL IS
OPENED IN A STABLE GIVEN BY DE
MAISONNEUVE.
THE TASK EXPANDS.
I BRING WOMEN FROM FRANCE, ETMEE
CHANTAL, MARIE EISEIN, ANNE
HIOUX, AND CATHERINE CROTEAU
ARE AMONG THE FIRST.
CATHERINE CROTEAU IS MY FRIEND
FROM CHILDHOOD.
WE ARE TEACHING.
WE BUILD WHENEVER POSSIBLE,
SEWING WE EXCHANGE FOR LABOUR.
PARTS OF OUR LAND WE SELL TO BUY
OTHER.

Captions on screen read "Les jours, les mois, les années se pressent, s’entassent. Encore quelques moments comme les nuées et les flots et tout sera fini. Hélas! ."

Next, a clip shows the interior of a church.

The Narrator continues
REMEMBER COURAGE
CAN BE PROPORTIONAL ONLY TO THE
TASK ALLOWED.
WE MUST BE OUR OWN
HEROS, HEAVY CLOTHES, BELLS
RUNG, FIRES LIT, PORRIDGE,
DORMITORIES.
COOK IN TWO OR THREE CAST IRON
CAULDRONS.
SINKS ARE LIMESTONE SLABS TILTED
TO DRAIN OUTSIDE THROUGH A
SPIGOT HOLE LEFT IN THE WALL AND
PLUGGED WITH A WOODEN MALLET
HEAD.
WARMTH IS WOOD, BURNT IN THREE
HEARTHS, ONE BURIED IN THE
CELLAR BENEATH OUR CENTRAL ROOM.
THERE ARE SQUARE ROOMS TO EITHER
SIDE, A REFECTORY, A CHAPEL, IT
IS THE DORMITORIES THAT ARE
LONG, BEDS ARE NARROW, PILLOWS
THAT ARE STACKED.
I AM SITTING UP.
VISION MUST NEVER LEAVE ME.
IT IS THE CARTOGRAPHER'S MAP
THAT IS FAULTY.
MY ATTIC IS FLOORED, ITS WINDOWS
SEE THE RIVER.
THE RIVER SEES THE SHORE.
CALL THE FERRYMAN WITH THIS LONG
HORN THAT AMPLIFIES THE VOICE.
JULY IS HOT, HABITS ARE WOOL,
ROOMS ARE ROCK.
ROCK BREAKS MY STRETCH.

Fast images mix the interior of a house in the beach with a coffin floating in the water.

The Narrator continues
SLEEVES ARE MY JACKET, CORD
WOUND TOO TIGHT.
LISTEN TO THE LOONS.
LISTEN TO THE LOONS.
BIRDS ARE MY SONG.
I AM MARGUERITE.
IT IS THE FIRST WEEK OF THE NEW
YEAR, 1700, AND I AM DYING.
I AM DYING ON THE 11th, AND DEAD
ON THE 12th.
AS IS THE CUSTOM, I AM LAID OUT
IN THE COMMON ROOM OF OUR MOTHER
HOUSE ON SAINT PAUL STREET.
PIERRE LABERE IS BROUGHT TO
PAINT MY PORTRAIT FROM MY CORPSE
IN ITS COFFIN.
LABERE'S SISTER JEANNE IS THE
RECLUSE OF OUR ORDER, AND LIVES
IN THREE ROOMS BUILT IN BEHIND
THE ALTAR OF OUR CHAPEL.
LABERE PAINTS FAST FACT.
I AM LANDSCAPE IN NOVEMBER, I AM
FOREST STUMP LEFT AFTER FIRE, I
AM ROOT, BLACK WET AFTER RAIN.

The end credits roll.

Text, direction and photography, Katherine Knight.

Marguerite Bourgeoys 1620-1700.

Copyright, Katherine Knight 2003.

A new episode starts and Phil appears on screen. He’s in his thirties. He has short dark hair in a neat cut and is clean-shaven, He wears glasses, a patterned white shirt over a black T-shirt. The caption changes to "Phil Rose. X Trace."

Phil says THIS FILM WAS AN
EXPLORATION OF MY INTEREST IN
BRITISH PAINTER FRANCIS BACON
AND IN PARTICULAR HIS SELF
PORTRAITS SO I USED THIS AS
A STARTING POINT FOR A SERIES OF
EXPERIMENTS THAT WOULD TRY AND
BRING ABOUT SOME OF THE KINDS OF
EFFECTS I SAW IN HIS WORK.
IT'S MY THIRD PIECE AND I
CONTINUED IN THE WAY I'D BEEN
WORKING, JUST TO SHOOT IT
MYSELF, AND ALSO TO HAND PROCESS
IT, WHICH IS A PROCESS WHERE I
TAKE BIG BUCKETS OF CHEMICALS
AND ACTUALLY THROW THE FILM IN,
SWIRL IT AROUND, AND IT PRODUCES
THESE WONDERFUL KIND OF TEXTURES
AND MARKS AND THINGS THAT COME
ABOUT BY CHANCE THAT I REALLY AM
SEEKING.
SO THE WHOLE PIECE IS TO TRY AND
GET AT THIS VERY VISCERAL UM,
FEEL THAT I FOUND IN FRANCIS
BACON, FOR ITS EXPRESSIVE
QUALITIES, AND TO MAKE THIS
PORTRAIT IN TIME, THIS PORTRAIT
IS NOT FIXED, IT'S NOT DEFINITE,
IT HAS A KIND OF DARKER SIDE TO
IT, BUT ALSO HUMOROUS POINTS,
TOO.
IT'S NOT FIXED, IT'S VERY FLUID.
AND IT ALLOWS THE VIEWER TO, I
THINK, READ ON AT A LOT OF
LEVELS.

The screen turns black and big white letters form the title: "X (trace) Studies for a self-portrait."

A Male Narrator whispers
TIMES, TIMES, TIMES TRACE.
TIMES... TRACE.

Fast dynamic clips show a series of black and white pictures on a dark black background. The images are, mostly, close ups to people’s faces. The pictures flash and change colours as the photo subject changes.

The Narrator says ... FATHER, SON,
DAUGHTER...
BEING...
(electronic music plays)

New series of images continue to flash in the black background.

The Narrator says I THOUGHT I
RECOGNISED...

The music changes and the images pass from slower to faster. The shapes lose clarity and, shows in sets of three, the composition becomes dynamic.

The pictures change colours and places. Profile pictures, front pictures and close up pictures play simultaneously.

(music plays)

The end credits roll.

A video by Phil Rose.

Copyright 2002.

The end credits of the show continue.

Executive producer, Rudy Buttignol.

Executive Director, Ontario Arts Council, John Brotman.

Producer, Annette Mangaard.

Directors, Annette Mangaard and Muriel Lavigne-Trotter.

TVOntario. A production of TVOntario.

The Ontario Educational Communications Authority, 2005.

Watch: Exposures: The Art of Film amd Video Program 2