NOVA KINO FILMS

This lecture was presented as part of the "Reimagining the New Man: Practicing Civic Duties through Debates, Social and Visual Media." Dushanbe, Tajikistan 2014. Published by the Dushanbe Art Ground.

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   NOT FOR PROFIT: A Certain History of the Film Collective and Underground Cinema

 

     The history of independent film collectives is also the simultaneous history of

underground cinema as both have operated over time on a similar parallel track

that has consistently folded into each other. Prototypically inhabiting a demimonde

of avant-gardists, non-conformists, and visionaries who saw no place for

themselves inside any version of commercial cinema production. The first Film

Collectives started to surface in the early 1960ʼs as 16mm film cameras and

editing equipment became more mobile and affordable. Collectivizing meant

more access to the necessary equipment to make a film as well as the addition of

human energy that is so critical to the dynamic complexities of the medium.

Notable, were the 1962 formation of The Filmmakers Cooperative in New York

City by the Lithuanian immigrant Jonas Mekas as well the founding of the London

Filmmakers Coop in 1968.

 

     Other Collectives shot up during this same period across Western Europe and

North America. The political conditions in the Soviet Union during the same time,

allowed for a different model, in most cases an “amateur film club” where noncommercial

films could be made and exhibited with a certain amount of state

oversight. Because the Soviet Union was already technically a “collective nation”

– avant-garde filmmakers were typically welcomed into the subsystem of film

production as long as they produced films under the rubric of “Soviet Realism.”

Two Armenian directors Sergei Paradonov and Artavazd Peleshyan, who both

studied at the prestigious VDIK film school in Moscow, are excellent examples of

avant-garde filmmaking in the USSR. Paradonovʼs personal lifestyle attracted

harsh retribution by Soviet authorities because of his illicit homosexual practices.

Similarly in the West, notorious Underground film screenings would be severely

visited by the police, where filmmakers would be arrested; projectors would be

seized, for the showing of controversial material. The western cooperatives were

uniformly run by Underground filmmakers themselves, who utilized the facilities

to better organize their own film production capabilities as to create an

environment where “any” kind of film could be made, exhibited, and distributed

without censorship.

 

 

     What does this term “Underground Cinema” essentially mean? An Underground

film is typically a film made without any censorship constraints on a very small

budget where the means of exhibition will be limited to artist driven/noncommercial

venues or literally “some dark room in the cellar with folding chairs

and a projector.” This does not mean that the film could have some kind of

second life; as in “be discovered” by an important institutional curator and then

become somehow part of the art world where true commerce takes place. The

underground filmmaker typically enjoys the liberty to express themselves

sexually, politically, and artistically in a variety of different genres or conceptual

concerns. As unabashed nudity shot under poor lighting conditions was

something that typically was considered to be a staple of the underground film, it

is often overlooked how many actual films of a more conceptual/artistic nature

were produced with very high quality production values.

 

 

     Underground cinema essentially began as an avant-garde expression of various

art movements (Futurism, Dadaism, Constructivism, Surrealism) that began in

Western Europe, Russia, and the United States in the 1920ʼs. Salvador Dali and

Luis Bunuelʼs collaborative short film “Un Chien Andalou” was a pivotal moment

in the ability of the avant-garde to shock the public in a way that caused a

notorious amount of attention. The crucial point here is that inside this de facto

underground, there were no restrictions at all regarding the type of content that

could be produced.

 

 

     Certainly, Dali and Bunuel were more closely linked to Bourgeoisie money

machines than most typical underground filmmakers of the future, but what is

critical about this film, is how it inspired so many artists afterward to make future

works without concern of institutional scorn, middle class objections or

bourgeoisie outrage, or even fear of arrest. The Original “Cinema 16” in Paris

where “Un Chien” opened, was assaulted by the authorities on numerous

occasions during its initial run.

 

 

     After the wild years of 1920ʼs rebellion and especially the antics of the Dada and

Surrealistic movements calmed down, there was very little influential activity in

regards to production of avant-garde/underground films except for the case of

Maya Deren. Deren was a Jewish immigrant to the United States from Kiev,

Ukraine. She was a trained choreographer who became fascinated in filmmaking

as a way to capture the ephemeral within a cinematic experience. Her seminal

film “Meshes in the Afternoon” was monumental in the way it influenced so many

other artists to see the possibilities of telling a story in a truly artistic,

hallucinatory, and unconventional manner.

 

 

     1960: The New American Cinema and the New York Underground cinema

essentially exploded in New York City just before formation of the New York

Filmmakers Cooperative. Independent Directors like John Cassavettes, Albert

Leslie, Robert Frank, and Shirley Clarke, were very concerned that the types of

films they were interested in making would not receive financing or distribution.

Effectively they wanted to remain “above ground” as the underground had no

concerns about being accepted into the conventional paths of production and

distribution. Conversely filmmakers like Jack Smith, Kenneth Anger, and Andy

Warhol started creating short, experimental films of highly controversial nature,

reminiscent of the volatile twenties, and projecting them in underground spaces

in New Yorkʼs ghetto ridden East Village. On September 28, 1960, a number of

these filmmakers assembled in the office of a sympathetic New York producer

and declared that: “we reject censorship” and emphasized that film was “a

personal expression.” They demanded a means to create financing and

distribution for these kinds of films. The avant-gardists on one hand wanted

nothing to do with this pseudo merger with the “above ground.” ”We donʼt want

false, polished, slick films- we prefer them rough, alive-we want them the color of

blood.” In 1962, Jonas Mekas, the strong willed experimental filmmaker from

Lithuania founded the infamous “New York Filmmakers Cooperative.” They

declared that no film sent to them for distribution would be denied. They had a

collectivist/anarchistic mind set. They were against bureaucratic elitism and for

the actual artist as everyman.

 

 

     As the New York Filmmakers Cooperative became a permanent not-for-profit

venue focused more on the exhibition and distribution of underground films, it

was clear that a more purposeful film production cooperative was missing within

the city. A place where an artist could walk in the door with enough money to eat

a fairly nice dinner and instead make a film. This was the beginning of the

Millennium Film Workshop. And their raison dʼetre was: "To offer the noncommercial

film artist -of whatever experience, or proven degree of proficiency,

and without interference in either film-subject or style -the use without cost, or at

minimal cost, of the tools of filmmaking, instruction in filmmaking, and a means of

contacting others of like creative interest." This statement is the de facto motto of

any film collective that has ever risen up from a moldy garage to a hidden corner

of an empty factory. Always working in a challenged architectural space with little

or no budget, with a variety of combative personalities, and a great passion for

the unhinged artistic purpose, which ultimately causes great friction and even

self-destruction.

 

 

     This type of model was the standard bearer across Western Europe and North

America. CO-OPʼs blossomed up all over the Cold War map of the west, some

faded away into the dustbin of history and others still exist to this day.

In 1984 in San Francisco, California, a small underground ground post-60ʼs

collective was formed named Artist Television Access. This was a Collective

entering the new era of not only filmmaking, but also video production. ATA, as it

is known locally, offered the choice of working on either film or video as well as

the possibility of screening the finished product in their eccentric showroom on

Valencia Street. Fast Forward to 2014 and think of all those private, slick

corporate busses carting young tech geeks heading out to their daily jobs at

Google, Yahoo, E-bay, in the nearby Silicon Valley as they walk by ATA each

morning to get their latteʼs before boarding the corporate train.

 

 

     The most remarkable aspect of ATAʼs long run as one of the most innovative

underground screening spaces in North America, is not itsʼ fortitude to be able

survive numerous gentrification onslaughts, rent increases, or internal disputes;

but its ability to continue to permanently house the living intellectual and spiritual

embodiment of the collective movement in the form of a cinematic dynamo

named Craig Baldwin. Mr. Baldwin Is a San Francisco based “found footage”

filmmaker, media activist, and Director of the spectacular screening series inside

ATA called “OTHER CINEMA.” The Other Cinema presents films and videos

from artists from all over the world every Saturday night in specially curated

shows by Craig Baldwin. The show themes range anywhere from sexploitation to

subversive forms of political detournement. With relentless energy and a fierce

intellect, Craig Baldwin consistently programs outstanding cutting edge work that

often much later will catch the eye of more established museum venues or

independent art spaces. He lives in the cellar of the ATA space with a giant

collection of 16mm films, vhs tapes, and DVDʼs. Typically, a newly acquired

16mm film will be seen running non-stop in this non-stop film bunker outfitted with

edit stations and screening rooms as well as sleeping quarters. He also

distributes work on his OTHER CINEMA DVD distribution label and is always

willing to consider new works for possible exhibition from strangers from around

the world. This kind of remarkable programming and economic efficiency has

inspired numerous underground filmmakers in the U.S. and elsewhere to begin

similar collective projects.

 

 

     In 1992, in Miami Beach, Florida; myself and a group of other filmmakers

founded the Alliance Film Video Cooperative with a 15,000 grant from the city of

Miami. The only stipulation to the grant was that all the equipment had to be open

to the public and free of commercial interest. We found a cheap studio within an

art collective and donated all of our personal equipment to the coop. We had

16mm and super-8 film cameras as well as video production and post-production

materials. The business model for the coop was that we would charge a small fee

for membership, which would then allow artists to rent equipment and editing

stations for also very little money. The staff of the coop would not be paid a

salary but were allowed to teach classes and keep the tuition. To open the

collective up to the public, we contacted the media and announced an opening

party where anybody in the city of Miami could bring out a 5 minute or less video

or film and we would screen it. A keg of beer on ice was also on hand for anyone

with a thirst. This attracted a giant crowd and we screened movies into all hours

of the night and signed up about fifty new members. From there we started two

different film and video screening series. Cinema Vortex, a weekly presentation

of 16mm films from the Miami Dade Public Library that included avant-garde,

experimental, French new Wave and American noir, as well as classic Hollywood

auteur cinema. The second series was “Sick, Sick Cinema” – curated by

underground noise musician –Tom Smith. Sick, Sick Cinema featured the most

important sexploitation films from the 1960ʼs and 1970ʼs with titles like “Bad Girls

Go To Hell,” Too Much, Too Often” and “Faster Pussy Cat, Kill, Kill, Kill.” To give

coop members a chance to screen works, we founded the “Anti Film Festival.”

 

 

     We werenʼt against film, but we were against the idea of film festivals as

place to sell your film to the market. We wanted wild works of experimental,

poetic, and political nature. The festivals were very popular as were the weekly

screening series. We expanded our space, bought new equipment and offered

more classes. More members arrived and bigger grants from different

organizations. Often, filmmakers who recently escaped from Cuba would show

up at our door on a monthly basis wanting to get in on the action. Of course with

the growth, there were arguments about the direction the coop was going and

concerns about what the money was being spent on. Staff members got fired for

mishandling money or seeking personal enrichment without benefit to the coop.

At the same time the membership was extremely loyal and we always had an

array of volunteers ready to do anything. Miami Beach at the time was a place in

total transition. The beautiful art deco hotels of today were mostly empty and

degrading at that time, ideal for film locations or squats The impact of cocaine

and the deportation of 200,000 criminals and mental patients by Fidel Castro had

an enormous negative impact on the community during the mid-eighties. The

murder rate rose overnight. This degradation lasted up until the mid-nighties,

when the main historical district of Miami Beach, which houses the majority of the

art deco masterpieces from the 1920ʼs, had been declared an architectural

landmark zone. Greedy Landlords and zealous Real Estate developers started

smelling the potential influx of unending dollars. Rents were suddenly rising at an

alarming rate.

 

     

     One of the Coopʼs main screening facilities, which was loaned to

us for free, was located in the first gay bar in Miami Beach, that had been shut

down by city authorities for sanitation violations had now been sold to the GAP

clothing store. The rent for our main cinema had been raised by 300 percent.

This was the most important independent cinema in Miami and nothing could be

done. The beautiful people were moving in and gentrification was in full capitalist

assault mode. The writing was on the wall, the days of the Alliance Film Video

Cooperative were numbered. The year was 1996, we decided to give it twelve

more months, then turn it over to someone else. Life had become two expensive

on Miami Beach for an artist to survive. Within the oncoming year, ten influential

members of the collective had all moved to San Francisco. My wife and I were

preparing to leave town, when news came out over the radio that Gianni Versace

had been shot down on the streets of Miami Beach by an insane serial killer, it

was definitely time to leave. We were heading WEST, to the golden land of

California. What shall we do when we get there? It took about two weeks to drive

the massive voyage from east coast to west, stopping at all the right spots in no

general hurry towards our quest for the next filmic utopia. The first day I arrived in

San Francisco, I walked down to the Mission District with an eager step and

entered the ATA doors at 922 Valencia and introduced myself to Craig Baldwin,

the keeper of the flame.