A full moon. I’m up to the church on the hill to film spiders.
Faint murmuring of music quietly echoes around the gravestones.
When I slip inside the ruined church a sad solo cello is quietly groaning. I can’t see where it’s coming from.
Looming from out of the shadows is a figure on the floor. Dead silent, and still. A body left unattended, awaiting burial? Gulp.
The solitary cello sounds like it’s reverberating from the ground up, whispering and whining from within the stones.
I’m about to be spooked when the cello loudly lurches out into an upswell of swollen strings.
The corpse in the corner suddenly moves its leg.
It’s a middle-aged man laid out on the ground. In this dark ruined church. On his own. Looking up to the full moon shrouded in clouds.
Listening to John Taveners Protecting Veil.
Probably having an epiphany.
Until I turned up.
Words & Vid: Ian Nisbet
This is one – a vid – I made earlier (about 3 years ago)
It’s about time it got blogged.
A rather long vid of cut up cats relentlessly waiting to, or mercilessly about to, pounce on their dinner.
With Keith Jarrett relentlessly pouncing and pounding away from behind as rhythmical accompaniment.
Vid: Ian Nisbet; Music: Keith Jarrett
PS (or SOS): It’s probably best not to know, or see, what happened to that helpless calf at the end. I don’t (and didn’t)
When watching the video below please consider the following questions:
Do hands have minds of their own?
Are the hands in this video frustrated? fearful? fervent? facile? futile?
Do excitable hands emphasis feeling or distract from meaning?
Is excessive hand gesturing a cause for alarm?
Are the hands in this video actually talking to you?
Are the hands in this video trying to grasp something, grab someone?
Around its twerpish little neck?
Are the hands in this video making any sense?
Are the hands in this video needing to go to bed?
Answers to these questions can be submitted to:
Byrne 2 Learn c/o Master Bate, Swotford College, Fingererton
Words & Vid: Ian Nisbet
Music: Gyorgy Ligeti, Hungarian Rock
A walk, and a picnic, down by the river Dart. Accompanied by the chuffy puffing of steam trains.
When you do a Haze-wave at a steam train you get a great big hoot on its honker.
Over here guv! – I’m not just waving, I’m clowning.
But I’m not walking down that train track Buster! – Pffff!!
A book by Jean Sprackland called Strands ‘A Year of Discoveries of the Beach’ inspired a search for Squirts, and Sea Mouses, and all the other coastal beings that live beneath our feet, under our noses, within reach of our fingertips. I have to be honest and admit I never knew that such exotic creatures as Sea Squirts existed (Haze did, would poke them squirtily awake as a girl)
A YouTube clip of a Sea Anenome sashaying away is the basis for the little vid below. What a sexy suggestive mover. A dance done without legs!
Words & Vid: Ian Nisbet. Drawing: Hazel Brown
Haze and I were watching this Friday night Proms concert from a couple of months ago. Daniel Barenboims florid (some will say ‘passionate’ some might say ‘histrionic’) conducting of the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra was fascinating. So much so, I stopped listening to the music completely and filmed a few clips of him ‘performing’ instead.
For this video I’ve muted what he conducted and substituted something that matches, or exaggerates, his OTT flamboyant antics.
No doubt he’s a very lovely man. But some of the slashing and swiping he does with his baton is a bit, er, scary.
Vid: Ian Nisbet
We’re walking up from Babbacombe Down towards Shag Cliff.
Hips are hurting. The Pumper Bird is shyly aflutter.
There’s that bench where the last drop of tea can be drunk.
And now here flitters across a white butterfly – looking for (potential mate) over there. I’ve skipped over with camera to catch him fluttering her wings.
Video: Ian Nisbet
More late night filming of the street lamp outside my living room window; but are they moths scootling about or are they something else?
What are these strange ethereal nightlight beings?
The sensible way to explain them is to consider them to be hawkmoths.
But they appear amorphous. And they seem ambiguous. And they feel, well, they feel kind of fantastical.
They’ve certainly captured my imagination (and Hazel’s) these last 4 or 5 weeks.
They’ve made me wonder, and feel intrigued. And even be a little bit betwitched.
Moths flying into and out of the street light near my window (writes Ian).
The moths go mad sometimes. Frenetic and frazzled (and possibly frizzled)
Spiders with webs spun across lamp also await; to do some murder mad mothing.
The big papery star-white things are most peculiar. What on earth are they? It’s like they’ve flutter-flown in from some dreamy nether world.
Video: Ian Nisbet
A weekend of listening to Sigur Ros album Valtari.
This filmed interpretation of Fjögur Píanó brought tears to both of our eyes.
How fragile this living breathing planet of ours is. How beautiful.