Yesterday I gave my interpretation
of Tati’s 1967 film Play Time. I made a complete fool of myself and I should
have prepared myself better instead of watching the snooker at the Crucible
(that 147!) but here are the notes that I prepared but didn’t use.
Notes on Tati’s Play Time
When I was invited to say something on the
psychogeographical elements in Jacques Tati’s 1967 film Play Time my first
reaction was: Who? Now I have seen the film I can understand why evoking
psychogeography in relation to Tati’s film might be a good idea.
The origin and legacy of psychogeography is
intimately connected to the restructuring of Paris. You could say that it inspired three
generations of dissent; first there was Baudelaire and his portrayal of the
flaneur, then came the Surrealists with their search for the unconsciousness of
Paris, best captured by Louis Aragon in his book on the Paris Peasant and next
came the Situationists who took their analysis of how the rationalization of
Paris was not just a rationalization of the street plan but of society and
daily life itself to a revolutionary conclusion. The work of Haussmann was long
finished when Tati came to make his film and already a new breed of architects
were preparing themselves to redesign Paris
once more and this time do it right. The radiant City of Le
Corbusier is the icon of modernist Paris that never was: 18
gigantic tower blocks for which a considerable part of Paris
south of the Seine would have to be razed. Psychogeography
in that sense was dead simple neighbourhood activism. It is unlikely that Tati ever
read Le Corbusier directly but his proposals were part of the intellectual
atmosphere and Tati (re)created a modernist town that feels right.
Tati: ‘In the first half of Playtime, I
direct the people to follow the architect’s guidelines. Everybody is filmed as
if moving in straight lines and feeling prisoners of their surroundings. Modern
architecture would like typists to sit straight, would like everyone to take
themselves very seriously. In the first part of the film, the architecture
plays a leading role but gradually, warmth, contact and friendship as well as
the individual I defend, take over this international setting and then neon
advertisements make their entrance and the world starts to swirl and it all
ends up in a merry-go-round. There are no more straight angles at the end of
the film’. (quoted from http://www.blueprintmagazine.co.uk/index.php/architecture/jacques-tati-and-architecture/)
When Tati got to design the city that is
the back drop of Play Time he took his ideas of architecture as a monstrous
inhuman art and what you get is a city that is has become one gigantic
undifferentiated hallway in which the hospital, the workplace, the hotel, the
airport are indistinguishable from another. Tati presents the life lived in
such a city where nature has been conquered, design reigns supreme as a bad
dream and where people have been stripped of their wildness, their senses,
forced to ambulate from one place to the next searching for the cheap fix of
inane novelties. In the city of Tati
wandering is either made impossible (the tourist follow a carefully planned
path) or a bureaucratic trick to keep you from reaching your goal, ala Kafka. Halfway
the film Tati’s starts to introduce elements of resistance and the people are
set free. Just as the docile domestic cow sometimes has something of the
primeval wild bovine inside it.
Strangely in his equation of fully planned,
rational environment with the devaluation of humans to drones he almost
verbatim follows Le Corbusier and his dream that a well planned city would
create well behaved human beings. The psychogeographic drift (Ian Sinclair
included) swallows that formula by assuming that drifting, the break-up of a
functional activity into a semi-random play is revolutionarily. The city as a
watch that runs as smoothly as design allows. Tati buys the ideology of
control-through-design but mocks the ideologue. I would argue that this
position both overestimates architecture and underestimates people. Strangely
enough this idea is still with us but in the opposite way. The idea of the
mallable society may have vanished but the precedence of public space over
behaviour resurfaces in the broken window theory that gave the impetus for the
Zero Tolerance policing that you sometimes hear about here too. So: we no
longer believe that design can make us, but an absence of it can break us.
There is a scene in the film where we
suddenly stumble on a great open space filled with a ordered series of free
standing cubicles. In each cubicle sits one person. It is hard to gauge how the
film must have appeared to the viewers in 67 but this is clearly a comic
moment: haha look at what those architect fools have thought off, this will
never pass in real life. No labourers will ever allow themselves to work caged
in a box without any contact with a fellow human. Working like rats in perfect
isolation. Of course the cubicles are here but they are not very popular with
employers because who knows what your employees are doing down there, hidden
away from view…. Probably they are working on their blog.
Geen opmerkingen:
Een reactie posten