Relating to Rhythm

I can't say that I know very much about the concept of rhythm, even though my early high school aspirations where to be a bass payer. I never really developed the sense of rhythm required in order to make that a reality. From the little I managed the acquire, I realized that articulating rhythm is easier said than done. It is something that is felt more than articulated. 

In my humble interpretation, I would say that rhythm is a recursive process in which movements – mechanical, acoustic, or visual –  that reflect and modify each other infinitely. One movement creating or affecting the next one and so on, even across mediums. The interplay of micro-adjustments as each movement informs and redefines the subsequent movements is precisely what makes it so hard to adequately articulate the concept since you can't separate the elements in order to define them. They either co-create rhythm or they don't.

Perhaps that is the reason, that the general trope is that rhythm cannot be learnt. It needs to be felt. Those that teach bass players and dancers to "feel" it, are in fact trying encourage the students into allowing these relationships to form naturally; to open up the possibility without making it formulaic and timed. If that recursive relationship is missing, and the timing (meter) takes precedence, the rhythm is empty and mechanical. 

Perhaps my previous attempts to master rhythm failed due to my adherence to meter and timing over that of movement and relation. Maybe I should try again. I do still have a beautiful 5-string Washburn, sitting in the corner, just waiting to be played. I wonder if philosophy makes better musicians! 

Relation and Truth: Marey, then and now

Though there is much to say about the incredible work of Etiene-Jules Marais as well as of Erin Manning's interpretations and reflections thereof, there is one particular aspect of this text that has been foregrounded in my mind above all the others; that of relation in perception. 

Though, in the scientific community, as well as in the social sphere in general, this view would seem obvious and banal, I am always frustrated at the self-imposed perceptual limitations that the scientific paradigm promotes. Generalities are stated as obvious and unquestioned givens accepted as fact. 

For example, considering the "defective capacity of our senses for discovering truths" (Marey in Braun 1992: 12-13) would seem to suggest as a given that a camera lens or microscope is superior to our senses. The fact that we can't "see" as effectively as a camera, makes me wonder if the camera thinks it is inferior due to it's inability to autonomously decide when or where to shut its eye. I understand that it is difficult to think outside the dominant paradigm of the times, but sometimes also wonder if it is even possible.

In the times (or places) where the religious paradigm (as opposed the scientific of today) ruled and all knowledge was measured up against concepts of God it was similar. In fact we still have the moral remnants of those paradigms even though the dominant mode of thought is now a scientific one. Just the concepts of good and evil are enough to show us that with or without the ageless battle between God and Satan, we could still believe in the anthropomorphic spirit of their essence.

What is interesting in Erin Manning's piece is what is afforded due to the change in times and shift in dominant paradigm. Being able to see Marey's work in a new light doesn't change what what was done, but allows a new creation to be born of it. This would seem implausible (or perhaps undesirable) if the scientific view was strictly upheld. If there where truths that needed discovering, divorced from their relations to "imperfect" tools for measurement (human senses) then it would stand that something could be true or not. There would be nothing to learn from the various inter-relations that we start to discover in Marey's work and which take expanded importance when viewed in new contexts, such as those Manning proposes. 

Already we can intuitively understand that everything is based on relations to other things; that nothing exists in a vacuum. Yet, when discussing just about any subject, from religion to politics, art or television, we seem to always revert to a simple subject-object machine that allows for simple communication and closed systems which in turn lend themselves to the formation of easy truths. 

"We see not an object but its activity of relation" (Manning). One can't help but wonder if observations or concepts such as this are the result or the cause of investigations such as those undertaken by Marey. One, also can't help but wonder what would come if we took this paradigm of "relations" to heart when observing the so-called givens of our social, moral and political world? Easy answers that just feel "true" might give way to the type of creative discoveries that Marrey's experiments have concerning movement and perception. 

Duration

I think an important aspect of the movement-image in cinema is that it happens in duration. Deleuze says that duration is change, that it changes and does not stop changing. Cinema gives us a movement-image because it expresses a duration which changes, producing a qualitative change in the (open) whole. Such a qualitative change suggests to me something made new – a newness that is its own movement, not simply a reconstituted movement reproduced on a screen. In this way I also think that the movement of a film is never trapped but is always in relation between the various sets, objects, the viewer, etc. I have trouble with the idea of duration though, because I don’t know where to find its end. A film has an identifiable length, but it also continues with me after the reel has stopped. But what continues? Does the movement-image of cinema occur only in specific duration outside of myself or can the duration be stretched out beyond the identifiable time-length of the film?