VIDEO: IT'S NOT JUST CHEAP FILM
(abridged)

Video's roots may be grounded in home movies and late-night infomercials, but the camcorder has started to take on its own artistic aesthetic, and there are indie video-makers everywhere using its cheapness as a valuable and creative tool.

Meesoo Lee, a video-maker from Vancouver, whose work is inspired by zines and underground filmmaking, is one such artist. For his new video short, A Dream of Donuts, he used the video camera's tendency to bleed colours to create effective distinctions between segments of his movie. When actor Jeanette Ordas dreams she has a huge plate of donuts in the fridge, the video effect is nearly surreal in its colour saturation, while the real segments (when Jeanette awakes to discover the fridge is empty except for a jar of pickle brine) are shot with contrasting clarity. Like all of Lee's shorts, the piece is perfectly timed. His use of surreal and spontaneous effects turn the mundane details of life into objects of fine art, and would not have made sense in any film-based medium other than video

"I started making videos because it was the only technology I could afford," Lee says about his choice of medium. "But you get to make lots of mistakes and try things out. And it's something you can do without taking classes."

In the space of a year, Lee has made four video compilations: Hair Fantasy & Other Delusions, Think, Why I Hate Modern Dance, and A Dream of Donuts. "I like the instant gratification," he says. "You get to see what you just made (for better or worse). And when you're finished editing you can run over to a friend's house and pop it into their VCR for an impromptu world premiere."

There are limitations to the medium, for sure, particularly with old VHS camcorders. Quality degrades when the footage is edited, or enlarged for projection, and shots can easily slide out of focus, or end up being shaky. Many of the in-camera specials effects, like barn door wipes (the effect of doors closing) and page curls, are the height of cheese. But many video-makers have found uses for these weaknesses. Toronto video-maker and Broken Pencil's film and video reviewer, Jonathan Culp, uses older High-8 cameras to produce his on-the-fly activist videos, including Chew It, Somalia!, Heywire and Other Hits, and Homeless on the Hill: OCAP Goes to Ottawa. "It's pretty easy to make a certain kind of video all by yourself," he says. "You can ignore lighting, use the in-camera microphone, run out onto the street and shoot whatever's going on." For example, Culp was filming on-the-fly at the Ontario Coalition Against Poverty's (OCAP) June 15th 'riot' on Queen's Park. In Culp's view, the video camera is like a household appliance, "an image blender" he calls it.

Is there a distinct video aesthetic? Jonathan Culp feels that if there is, it's primarily based on the medium's limitations. "Most video ends up on a television set rather than a big white wall, so you really kind of have to de-emphasize the panoramic vistas and dancing figures of light. You either need to blend in with your prospective surroundings, or create something so mind-blowing that it sucks everyone's attention right out of the room."

…The biggest obstacle for video-making is an effective distribution method - video stores don't often carry indies so their makers toil in relative obscurity. After making his political documentaries, Culp started a video distribution network, called Satan Macnuggit Popular Arts. He carries dozens of small activist and independent titles (including Meesoo Lee's videos), and distributes them through a zine catalogue where $5 videos can be bought through mail order.

Culp thinks indie video might not stay underground forever. As he sees it, "When musical instruments became electric and affordable, the rock and roll that resulted was in general hugely energetic and truly popular, channeling old forms into an accessible and cathartic mutation. Don't pick your nose with your video camera, but don't try to ride it bareback to Hollywood either. Video was born to rock and roll!"

(Emily Pohl-Weary, Lola Magazine, Toronto, Winter 2000-2001)