The optical & chemical distortions of Christopher Soos – Page 0
August 20, 2011
optical
and
chemical
distortions of
Christopher Soos
optical
and
chemical
distortions of
Christopher Soos
I was first introduced to the work of Canadian cinematographer Christopher Soos back in the late 90s, through his collaborations with then photographer-turned-music-video-director Floria Sigismondi. Sigismondi’s photographic work had been a vast source of inspiration for me throughout my own studies, aided in no small part by her work on some of my favourite music videos of that era; Marilyn Manson’s fascist-fetish tour de force, The Beautiful People, as well as Tourniquet, the horrifyingly paranoid ode to Les Jeux de la Poupee, by Hans Bellmer; the claustrophobic nightmare tableaux of David Bowie’s Dead Man Walking, with its fragmented and overly saturated palette; and the lurking, subcutaneous reptile creep of Tricky’s Makes Me Wanna Die. While I always admired Sigismondi’s directorial vision, I was far more intrigued by the photographic techniques used to commit these images to film, and learning more about the individual responsible for the conception, and expert execution of, these equally cerebral and visceral techniques.
Christopher Soos was the director of photography responsible for the photochemical creation of these timeless images, whose impact has really only been diluted by the sheer excellence of their craftsmanship; the imagery was so effective, so brilliantly
executed, that countless artists and directors inevitably sought to recreate them in their own works, until they (unfortunately) became an ever increasingly weaker pastiche on the originals.
Soos was not afraid to leave proclaimed traces of the artist’s hands smeared all over his photographic work; these videos are riddled with an overwhelming sense of tactility, of film pushed to the edge of its photosensitive and chemical tolerance. In many ways, I’d go so far as to say that Soos pioneered the extreme use of the swing-shift system in music videos, a process whereby the camera’s lens is mounted to the camera independently of the body, allowing for a great variation of in-camera focal effects. His adoption of the technique differed greatly to the more traditional use by cinematographers though; lenses were remotely free-floated, and using follow-focus gear, he created a completely unique in-camera vignette, vertically shifting the image, producing an effect not dissimilar to a film projector losing its loop.
He was also a great experimenter when it came to using additional optics to distort the final image. Images were shot through overhead projector or magnifying lenses, crystals were
used both concurrently with the camera lens or, at times, to distort lighting and create a complex scattering of colour; when these techniques were used in conjunction with the swing-shift lens work, they inevitably created yet another layer of tactile visual noise, heaped upon the surface of the film, visible in every trace of the final print.
In addition to his distinctive camera work and heavily modified optics, his images are also typified through the use of such photochemical post processing techniques as push processing and bleach bypass. Push processing allows for a photographer to effectively underexpose their images at the time of capture; by developing the film for a longer period of time, the film is essentially over-developed, increasing its photo-sensitivity. A photographer can shoot hand-held, in low light, on an average-speed 400ISO film, but increase the effective rating of the film to a much faster-speed ISO of 1600 or even 3200, by simply developing the film longer. This process adds distinctive aesthetic attributes to the final print, including higher contrast, highly saturated (and often distorted) colours and increased grain.
Alternatively, Soos has also adapted the distinguished look of bleach bypass techniques into some of his work as well. In opposition to the distinctive visual artefacts of push processing, bleach bypass often diffuses images with reduced saturation and a lower tolerance for variations in exposure, while increasing both film grain and contrast. Soos gave an interview where he discussed the technique in relation to its use on the Sigur Ros video, Glósóli:
“It’s a chemical process done at the the lab. The film, when processed, ‘by-passes’ the bleach process which normally washes away silver particles
for re-cycling. The result of the bypass is thick contrast and de-saturation due to the presence of the silver on the negative in a nutshell (the process can also be done to a print). You might have to move to a cinematographer’s forum for a hefty explanation. This project could not afford the bleach bypass, we broke the bank shooting three days on 35mm with two anamorphic primes, it was like a big budget format with no bells and whistles, shooting available light, a tripod and a few filters to darken the sky, the rest was telecine magic when the film was transfered to tape”
Unfortunately, the power that originally gave these images their point of interest has long since diminished, due in large part to the mass proliferation of increasingly diluted variations in countless other forms of cinematic media. When handmade, analogue processes that once took hours of time and high levels of skill and craftsmanship to create, begin to be recreated digitally through an attempted duplication of their superficially intrinsic qualities (while missing the entire point of the inherent punctum embedded in the analogue originals), it’s a sure sign that these processes have begun to lose the power to affect, move, shift and inspire on the level they once did.
Still, for those who either grew up with these works or, who perhaps don’t find themselves over-saturated daily with their contemporary recreations, they’ll always hold at least some of that initial impact. The following videos then, are for you; to enjoy, once more.