[ Chris Marker. Born in 1921 in Neuilly-sur-Seine (France). Director, among other films, of La Jetee (1962). Le Fond de l'air est rouge (1977). Sans Soleil (1982) and Level Five (1997). his vast body of work crosses the fields of film, photography, writing and, more recently, video and multimedia. ]
In face of this space outside any dimension of time, anchored therefore in a pure and eternal presenti from which any type of recollection tends to be gradually eradicated, the Zone in Stalker, with its many obstacles and traps at each moment dependent on whatever is going through the mind of those moving within it, and its impenetrable "room of desires", constitutes above all an imponderable space, endowed with complex properties and in constant mutation, the storehouse of a collective memory that nobody wants, which far from vanishing, seeks to fix itself in those passing through it.
From the film Sans Soleil (1982) to the CD-ROM Immemory (1998), including the video installation Zapping Zone (Proposals for an Imaginary Television) (1990-1992), one particular concept appears to be a constant feature of all Chris Marker's work in the last twenty years - that of the Zone.
But what is actually the Zone for Marker?
In Sans Soleil it designates the uncertain space where images are transformed in Havao Yamaneko's video synthesizer, in an explicit homage to Tarkovsky's Stalker (1979). Yet, this reference needs perhaps to be complemented with another one to Cocteau's Orphée (1949), to which Marker reacted enthusiastically at the time, in order to try to understand what it really means in the context of the evolution of his work.
In French, the word zone appears to encompass both the general idea of a given space, as well as the more specific meaning of an abandoned urban area where the waste products mount up. Moreover, the ruins that constitute the Zone in Orphée, and which made such an impression on Marker, are above all the leftovers of the destruction of memory, in the same way that space appears mainly as a paradoxical, figure of time, in the form of an abolished instance. To pass through space implies an always different confrontation between the one undertaking the journey and his own personal history.
Far beyond the differences between Cocteau's and Tarkovsky's films, what they have in common is an understanding of the Zone as a domain of deterritorialization and an authentic sphere of possibility - to cross it is to make an internal journey through memory, capable of exposing all its fragility. In Marker's work, this emerges in the form of an area of confluence and acceptance of all types of materials, where what is under threat is not so much an individual consciousness as the integrity and density of the images and sounds themselves, which in the course of liberation from their original context and referent open up to multiple possibilities of combination and metamorphosis.
[João Nisa]
Chris Marker is a sculptor of memory - he can make us reminisce of things we have never lived, to remember places we have never been. If the future can become as sentimental as the past, then he has succeeded in manipulating time to an emotional end. Music can only as is the art of sculpting time, of evoking memory for transitory sonic moments.
[Atau Tanaka)
supported by 5 fans who also own “Sul - dedicated to Chris Marker”
I sing the body electric. In these strange, stretched out, targetted days, the mix of of what we can touch and experience is muddled. A little but country, a little bit city. My laptop talks to me, while outside the bees collect pollen. Hiding in plain sight, with breath held, we wait for the exhale. Jan Jackson
Colin Andrew Sheffield (Elevator Bath) repurposes heavily manipulated jazz samples into gorgeously eerie soundscapes. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 20, 2023
Shards of static & distortion crash against disarmingly beautiful piano & synth melodies on this riveting new record from Carbon and Prose. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 30, 2022
supported by 5 fans who also own “Sul - dedicated to Chris Marker”
I love how insects (and birds!) become the voice of place through MI’s soundscape compositions. The recordings are also delightfully mysterious; it’s a lot of fun to try to guess the sources of the sounds MI brings to our ears. A great followup for those who enjoyed the fantastic documentary film _Beetle Queen Conquers Tokyo_ about Japanese cultural attitudes towards insects. Dave Aftandilian