I'm not sure if this belongs here or in the Lounge, so I'll respectfully leave it up to the moderator to move this thread if I'm in error. This deals with a piece of film 8mmx75 ft.
Many family histories were in part captured on film, both still and movie and pretty much all of it on b&w Seeing ancestors I've never met on two dimensions of sepia toned photo paper is a luxury relatively few people over the course of history have experienced. Without George Eastman making photography affordable, I know my own immigrant ancestors wouldn't have been able to leave me the huge collection of family photos I now get to enjoy---only one tiny tin type of a lady whose identity is lost to history and one half plate palladium portrat of a bearded mountain fighter proudly holding his 11mm mauser rifle with a nagant revolver tucked into his belt standing next to his son are the two images in the collection that weren't courtesy of George Eastman's processes.
Then there is movie film, and the reason for this post. You see, I have the projector and the screen but somewhere along the line the films were copied onto vhs by a well meaning relative and the original films were lost, probably destroyed---I don't know for certain. VHS is on its way out of course and the video tapes will probably be tranferred to dvd I'm hoping(I don't have a copy so its out of my hands) but in my classes I show a VHS copy of Fritz Lang's "Destiny" which is probably the penultimate in silent films whose plots move at the speed of glaciers accompanied by a seemingly immortal clarinet solo. Its a good copy of the original, but something is missing---the same thing thats missing from the VHS copies of my family's double run 8mm home movies: the audible and ofactory sensations that make up part of the visual experience like the clucking of the projector and the smell of the blistering hot bulb. The coolness(or stuffy air) in a darkened room as we gaze upon a four or five foot square flickering image on a screen or white wall---like looking through a large keyhole into the past. The specters we witness doing everyday things like graduating, marrying, bringing home babies and going on trips. We are treated to all sorts of things that members of our own family were justly proud of: an addition to the house, a bountiful garden lush with cucumbers, tomatoes, and hydrangias. A lady's lap dog, a gent's hunting dog, a farmer's plough horse. A brand spankin' new 1926 Buick and a new piano. The elderly figure of the lady who gave birth to the lady who gave birth to one's mother or father. Relatives who travelled long distances to visit (IIRC the entire population 'back East' must have visited my grandpa who lived 'out West' in California at one tme or another) Anyway, these images weren't on flat pieces of photo paper, they aren't on paper at all but up there on a screen or blank wall---moving! Light dancing! Ancestors dancing, drinking, walking down the steps to the porch, smoking cigars and holding chickens and piglets. Lips move, but no words are heard---only the clucking of the projector and the smell of the scorching hot projector lamp. Turn on the room light and the people on the wall disappear. Turn the lights off and they return. Like ghosts from the past. Eerie. Surreal. Way cooler than VHS and DVD ever could be. All of it lost ---to my family anyway---and much of it lost to recent generations too.
(If you want to know where I'm 'coming from' its stinkn' hot tonight. Too hot to sleep even! If the eight year old didn't have a temperature (and I didn't have to go to work tomorrow) I'd pack the whole family up in the car and drive to the coast for a little relief!)
Anyway, here is an experience that I'll bet is being lost to future generations. What do you think? Are you fortunate enough to have your family's movie archives and do you ever fire up the projector and enjoy them? Do you treasure them?
Reply With Quote
Bookmarks