Essay on Robert Bresson (April 2010)
‘Noises should become Music’ Discuss the sound theory and practice of Robert Bresson (essay April 2010)
‘I’d say I compose a film rather than construct it. In making a film I listen to it as a pianist listens to a sonata he is playing. I flatten the image as with an iron.’ (Robert Bresson, quoted in The Guardian newspaper , 6 August 1999)
At the dawn of a new millennium, Bresson left behind a world in which the complexity of image and sound dominates every visual medium available. Bresson’s oeuvre, characterised by ‘a true dynamism, generated by the most elemental relationship between image and sound’, only amounted to a mere twenty hours in total but nevertheless left a deep influence on a great number of film makers, old and new. (1)
For the viewer, aural experience in film is the result of a variety of sound sources: a dialogue between the actors, a voice-over, an observed noise (both artificial and natural), music which is part of the scene or artificially added in addition to other sounds. The complexity of sound and image has developed over the years, with synchronicity the most important factor in ensuring a tight continuity in the spectator’s experience. Hollywood created this tradition, where sound plays a subordinate role illustrating the image. On a technical level, ‘the picture would cut before the sound cut by a frame or two, the sound bridging and thus concealing the picture cut’. (John Belton, 1985, p. 69). Bresson would turn this rule around by using ‘the sound cut, often preceding the picture cut by six to eight frames or more’. (ibidem) Bresson uses this technique, creating signatures for each sound, sometimes preceding the image or not shown at all, augmenting the impact. In Pickpocket (1959), for example, we hear the train, but see no train; the sound of the station trolley is repeatedly heard, the sound of footsteps is amplified. In another earlier film, Diary of a Country Priest (1950), we hear bells ringing, dogs barking, cockerels crowing, creaking doors opening and closing… sounds which are repeated regularly but not always accompanied by a corresponding image. All these sounds are audio representation of the countryside surroundings the priest, like the (unseen) wind, blowing out a candle, symbolic of what is to come.
By detaching the sound from the image, Bresson allows the visual scope of the image to be pure, indeed sometimes abstract, devoid of unnecessary visual noise. Belton suggests in his article that René Clair and Robert Bresson have an opposite view: for Clair the sound complements and for Bresson the sound replaces. (John Belton, 1985, p. 145) However, I would suggest that these two theories can be aligned. Indeed Bresson expresses a similar view in his writings ‘Notes on the Cinematograhper’ when he states: ‘Images and sound like people who make acquaintance on a journey and afterwards cannot separate.’ (Bresson, 1997, p. 47)
There is a semiotic interpretation in as far that signifier and signified become interchangeable, where the sound represents the image and vice-versa. The critic Lindley Hanlon, suggests that ‘the exchange of sound for image relieves Bresson’s films of the redundancy of conventional sound realism and frees sound for the use as an emblem.’ (Hanlon, 1985, p.323). Michel Chion uses the term ‘acousmatized’ to indicate a series of sounds that represent a situation, for example in A Man Escaped, whenever the prisoner appears at the bars, sounds of a tram and a bell can be heard, representing the ‘normal’ life outside. (Chion, 2009, p. 253)
In Mouchette (1967), the repeated usage of the sound of a bird trapped in a noose (laid by the poacher) becomes a symbol of Mouchette’s own entrapment and fate. In this film, sounds are abound but curiously, human conversation is minimal.
On the other hand, in The Trial of Joan of Arc (1962), the sound is dominated by human voices, the sharp, interrogative exchanges between court officials and a young girl who is chained and exposed. The rapid questioning, the piercing replies, a ‘firing’ exchange of dialogue, resulting in the victim’s ultimate fate: burnt to the stake.
Characteristic of Bresson, is his use of voice-overs, for example in Diary of a Country Priest, A Man Escaped, Pickpocket, even in The Trial of Joan of Arc. A voice-over represents an oddity, playing on the viewer’s imagination as ‘the voice’ is physically in a different time and space. In Bresson, the voice is monotonised, stripped bare of emotion, spoken by a ‘model’. (2)
I would like to suggest that the use of voice-over, contributes to the rhythm of the film, reiterating, guiding the narrative. Lindley Hanlon underwrites this suggestion, stating that ‘(…) the importance of the human voice contributes to the rich rhythmic modulations of the [Monteverdi] sound track.’ (Hanlon, 1985, p. 329).
On occasion, voice-overs are combined with the character writing down the sentences, similar to the inserted cards used in the silent movie era. The writing is framed, the writing is read out by the character and occasionally the writing is happening on-screen. In Pickpocket and Diary of a Country Priest, the main character writes down his thoughts. In this threefold combination of exploring the narrative, the viewer’s experience of a Bresson film is complete. Or as he writes: ‘When a sound can replace an image, cut the image or neutralize it. The ear goes more towards the within, the eye towards the outer.’(Bresson, 1997, p.61) By using a pleonastic style, Bresson repeats meaning, adding depth and dynamics to his films.
So far we have looked at diegetic and non-diegetic sound, noises that coming from people or situations. In A Man Escaped the sounds of prison are emphasised. In Pickpocket and L’Argent, we hear the sound of Paris, its people in the street, the noise coming from the traffic, or in a café. Surprisingly, the sounds are refrained, almost manipulated to musically score the imagery. Film theoretician Michel Chion explains that these sounds all punctuate and ritualize time and very importantly, are never mixed in with music. He continues to explain that in Bresson’s films, ‘the sound is often part of the repetitive processes, and repetitive sound necessarily evokes music.’ (Chion, 2009, p. 111) If we combine this with the monotonous dialogue of the models and the repeated actions on-screen we get a sense of rhythm, a musical feeling which is brought on without the explicit use of music.
Bresson’s cinema is a visual and aural ballet of interplay, or as he says: ‘Images and Sound must not support each other, but must work each in turn through a sort of relay.’ (Bresson, 1997, p.62) In addition, the interaction between sound and image creates a tension, or as he suggests ‘an impatience’:
‘The eye solicited alone makes the ear impatient, the ear solicited alone makes the eye impatient. Use these impatiences. Power of the cinematographer who appeals to the two senses in a governable way.’ (Bresson, 1997, p. 62)
Hanlon suggests that ‘the role of sound is very closely allied with the role of objects that produce them in the film. ‘These sounds have a physical presence.’ Furthermore we can assume that Bresson’s sounds are very precise and concrete. There is no doubt for instance that the wooden clogs in Mouchette, represent the heroine. The bells, drums and trumpets in The Trial of Joan of Arc give a clear impression of the court setting and the official business it is carrying out. Whilst Breton did not utilise the Dolby sound features – the general use of this technology did not appear until the mid seventies – Michel Chion suggests that Bresson used sound that, although recorded as mono, created an imitable Dolby effect. (Chion, 2009, p. 125). This confirms Hanlon’s comment on Mouchette:
‘The harsh, naked quality of the sounds, accentuated by their startling loudness and by the lack of intermediate background noise as filler, intensifies the hostility of the characters toward each other, exhibited as well in their actions.’ (Hanlon, 1985, p. 327)
Over the years Bresson’s films detach the visual and aural elements of the film, achieving a structural unification, with sound and image interlocking the narrative.
Fred Camper, commenting on the very different usage of synchronous sound, explains that
‘Bresson can achieve a mysterious and brilliant use of sound presence, realized through subtleties in recording and sound editing (…). Bresson, with his emphasis on background and off-screen sounds, and through the peculiar presence he invests in his on-screen sounds, makes use of this effect to create sound tracks that evoke a sense of an unseen, mystical reality.’ (Camper, 1985, 374-375)
Whilst Bresson uses cinematographic composition with a distinct ‘sound track’ he also carries an intriguing relationship with music. One common element in his films is the prevalence of existing or newly composed classical music over modern, pop or indeed electronic music. Occasionally modern music is used in a diegetic manner, for example in Diary of a Country Priest (during a village party), in l’Argent (the setting of the fun fair) and in Quatre Nuits d'un Rêveur (the busking scene). In the first mentioned film, there is a surprisingly Hitchcock-esque use of non-diegetic sound when the main character is presented with an anonymous letter, creating pure tension based on sound and the juxtaposition of the envelope. Haunting classical music (by Jean Jacques Grunenwald) is laid over the threatening shots of trees, later on in the story, with ominous suggestions of what is to come.
In Mouchette, music has a symbolic meaning: the girl is forced to sing in class. The teacher, showing a stroke of cruelty, imposes the notes and words onto the child who initially refuses to sing, but then submits. Her so-called ‘inability’ to sing is, in effect as the viewer will learn, a weapon in her rebellious short life.
In Pickpocket, the non-diegetic introduction of classical music is presenting a moment of tenderness: a kiss. In another earlier scene, the classical music almost guides the trickery of supple pickpocket fingers, almost like a ballet. The funeral of the main character’s mother is set in church, with accompanying music bringing on tears, again a surprising moment of on-screen emotion, visually and aurally in synch.
In A Man Escaped, the final scene is of the prisoners outside, running into the steam of an unseen train. Yet the sound of a train was repeated often throughout the film. Mozart is played and the image and sound blend, into a final escape...
Lindley Hanlon suggests that ‘the more musical phrases, which would occasionally coincide with special moments in these film (are) as a rich continuo for the image phrase and the evocation of a spiritual world.’ (Hanlon, 1985 p. 329)
But, as Hanlon points out ‘Bresson considers his use of music in his earlier films a mistake, a deviation from his economy built on concrete, realistic detail.’ (Hanlon, 1985, p. 330). Indeed Bresson himself states: ‘No Music as accompaniment, support or reinforcement. No music at all (except, of course, the music played by visible instrument)’. This statement is followed by: ‘Thers his use of music in his earlier films a mistake, a deviation from his economy built on concrete, realistic detail.’ (Hanlon, 1985, p. 330). Indeed Bresson himself states: ‘No Music as accompaniment, support or reinforcement. No music at all (except, of course, the music played by visible instrument)’. This statement is followed by: ‘The noises must become music’ (Bresson, 1997, p. 30)
Bresson’s writing shows his personal development on the use of music and sound editing later on in his work. One can understand the dilemma of using/not using a certain audio composition. The semiotician Christian Metz would argue that sound, including music, is part of a larger ideological structure and socially constructed (quoted in Jean Mitry, 1990, p. 147). Yves Baudrier, another French film theorist explains that the use of music ‘runs the risk of softening dangerously the value of certain images and (…) runs the risk of mediocrity in the easy options it provides.’ (quoted in Jean Mitry, 1990, p. 253) One could assume that in line with some of these French writings dating back to the 1960s, Bresson may well have been influenced by these theories and gradually switched the use of music as a complimentary element to an element which functions as a fundamental singularity in the story.
Finally, having explored dialogue, diegetic and non-diegetic sound, there is a fourth element in Bresson’s oeuvre: the sound of silence. Indeed many theorists and practitioners emphasised that the dawn of talking pictures, allowed the film maker to creatively use ‘silence’. Bresson himself quoted the phrase (in capitals) in his writings ‘THE SOUNDTRACK INVENTED SILENCE’, followed by ‘Absolute silence and silence obtained by a pianissimo of noises.’ (Bresson, 1997, p. 48-49). And also: ‘Against the tactics of speed, of noise, set tactics of slowness, of silence.’ (Bresson, 1997, p. 63)
Bresson’s sound manipulations direct the viewer to fully reflect on the images on-screen, devoid of excess and enveloped by a spirituality. The result, as he writes, is ‘Silence, musical by an effect of resonance. The last syllable of the last word, or the last noise, like a held note.’ (Bresson, 1997, p. 98).
Upon discovering that these noises represent a musical composition, one realises that Bresson’s imagery is engineered along these visual sound bites, integrating meaning into the narrative processes and adding rhythm to time and space. Truly a symphony of both image and sound.
Notes
Notes
(1) Bresson died in December 1999 and Peter Lennon wrote the obituary in the Guardian in which he referred to the 20 hours of cinema and Bresson’s austere output. According to Lennon, Bresson has been rated as one of the greatest film directors by Martin Scorcese, Bernardo Bertolocci, Andrei Tarkovsky, Paul Schrader, Wim Wenders, and Spanish director Victor Erice (Spirits of the Bee Hive). Lennon also quoted Bresson in an article published 6/8/1999, on the eve of the Edinburgh Film Festival.
(2) Bresson prefers to use non-professional actors, models. The models are asked during filming to act the scene over and over again, resulting in a detachment.
Bibliography
Books
Bresson, R. Notes on the Cineatographer.1986 Translated from the French by Jonathan Griffin, Green Integer, Copenhagen, reprinted 1997. Original French edition published in 1975.
Chion, M. Film, A Sound Art. 2009. Translated by Claudia Gorbman. Columbia University Press. Original French edition published in 2003.
Mitry, J. The Aesthetics and Psychology of the Cinema. 1990. Translated by Christopher King. The Athlone Press, London. Original French edition published in 1963.
Chapters
Belton, John. 1985. Technology and Aesthetics of Film Sound. In E. Weis and J. Belton (Editors) Film Sound. Theory and Practice. Columbia University Press, pp. 63-72.
Hanlon, Lindley. 1985. Sound in Bresson’s Mouchette. In E. Weis and J. Belton (Editors) Film Sound. Theory and Practice. Columbia University Press, pp. 323-331.
Camper, Fred. 1985. Sound and Silence in Narrative and Nonnarrative Cinema. In E. Weis and J. Belton (Editors) Film Sound. Theory and Practice. Columbia University Press, pp 369-383.
Filmography
· Journal d'un Curé de Campagne (1951) (Diary of a Country Priest)
· Un Condamné à Mort s'est échappé (1956) (A Man Escaped)
· Pickpocket (1959)
· Procès de Jeanne d'Arc (1962) (The Trial of Joan of Arc)
· Mouchette (1967)
· Quatre Nuits d'un Rêveur (1971) (Four Nights of a Dreamer)
· L'Argent (1983) (Money)
Website
The Guardian
http://www.guardian.co.uk/film/1999/aug/06/2
Word count: 2189, excluding bibliography and in-text references, 2/4/2010