The Favorites - Civilisation (#60)

The Favorites is a series briefly exploring films I love, to find out what makes them - and me - tick. Civilisation (1969/UK/hosted Kenneth Clark, dir. Michael Gill/Peter Montagnon/Ann Turner) appeared at #60 on my original list.

What it is • "Civilisation", the ambitious white-elephant-to-end-all-white elephants title, is immediately undercut by a subtitle, just as important: "A Personal View". Civilisation: A Personal View, a 1969 British miniseries designed in part to exhibit the new capabilities of color television, does have have a broad sweep and elevated tone.  This thirteen-part documentary covers a thousand years of European history (with a quick aside for the American Revolution), primarily but not exclusively through its visual art and music, taking us from the humble surf-pounded huts on Scotch islands, where monks preserved the last dying embers of ancient culture, to the monumental manmade island of Manhattan, which by the time this program aired had arguably become, for better or worse, the center of civilization with a "z", thank you very much. But what is civiliz(s)ation? That, among other areas, is where "a personal view" comes into play. The series is not an anonymous voice-of-God overview, seeking to harmonize all perspectives and/or reflect the conventional wisdom, despite frequent acknowledgements of reputation and critical consensus. It was written and memorably hosted by Kenneth Clark, a leading British art historian, who even fifty years ago could cheerfully describe himself as a "stick-in-the-mud." Indeed, series producer/director Michael Gill - the man largely responsible for the show's memorable visual format - felt so alienated from Clark's social and aesthetic outlook that he doubted they could work together. Eventually, however, they found common ground. Although modern art is almost entirely absent from the show, and Clark at times seem to shrug off historical brutality as sadly necessary for cultural advancement, his view is actually quite firmly anchored in postwar liberal humanism. He is a proponent of internationalism and deeply weary of nationalism, vaguely sympathetic to but deeply skeptical of revolutionary fervor, too realistic to believe in or even desire a return to tradition, and respectful of if not entirely convinced by religious pieties (he was a deathbed Catholic convert - a conversion hinted in his hardly laudatory treatment of the Reformation). More importantly, the survey is colored by numerous individual quirks and passions, and presented with a personable, and vaguely awkward, singularity that endears Clark to the viewer despite any frustrations with his oversights or blind spots. At the time, the series catapulted the host into international fame and served as a benchmark for British documentary television for years to come. Aesthetically, Civilisation was simultaneously a breakthrough, with its graceful coupling of splendid imagery and direct address, and a throwback in the hip late sixties. Later programs, like John Berger's wickedly subversive Ways of Seeing (which I saw a few weeks after making this list; otherwise it probably would have been on it) and Simon Schama's The Power of Art, borrowed Clark's personalized style of presentation. They also twisted the series' stately pace and reverential attitude, replacing calm order with an experimental attitude in the first case and MTV-style flash in the second. In the UK, the show remains familiar but in the U.S. - despite its great impact on PBS in the early seventies - I think it has been mostly forgotten. Certainly I was not familiar with it when I first encountered a worn VHS box-set in 2005...

Why I like it •

7 Rooms: montage guide for an abandoned film

Over a year ago, this video was assembled for my own purpose (not originally intended for public viewing): I was planning an anthology of 7 short films. I figured each film would be shot in a different room of a house, echo a different genre, feature a character of a different age, include visuals inspired by a different Catholic sacrament, take place at a different time of day, use a different style of composition, and incorporate themes or visual/musical atmosphere from a different historical era. Before developing the individual stories, I created this montage to see all of the elements in play. Naturally, the concept was so schematic that I never got very far with it! The project was eventually abandoned. Nevertheless, I enjoy some of the musical and visual juxtapositions in this "guide video" and decided to upload it to my Vimeo channel. It's fairly random and obscure, but absorbing enough if you enjoy this sort of thing.

After the video, I've included pictures and brief explanations for each category for those curious about the intended structure. I'm not 100% sure why I was compelled to upload this, except that I have a soft spot for juxtapositions of wildly different yet congruent material, and I enjoy the schematic nature of the progression (especially the historical music and clips).

Shadow of '68 1968 - 1969 • "32 Days of Movies" Day 18

The eighteenth chapter in "32 Days of Movies", an audiovisual tour through 366 films
(2015 update: included Vimeo embed after the jump)

View "Chapter 18: Shadow of '68"

Shadow of '68

For four chapters, the energy of the sixties built and built, until yesterday it exploded, the sort of explosion that only builds upon itself, growing larger and larger. Today, in the chapter representing 1968 - 1969, we might expect to find its climax. After all, the whole world was in the throes of uprising, revolution, war, changing consciousness, rebellion - from the Tet to May '68 in Paris to the Prague Spring (and subsquent repression) to Chicago to...well, you all know the litany.

But on this screen today you'll find few Molotov cocktails, little long hair, no drugs. There'll be plenty counterculture tomorrow, in the last sixties entry, but today's chapter embodies cool restraint, dark intensity, and collected contemplation. Several scenes feature suited squares acting as if the whole world isn't falling down around them. This is not the surface tumult we are all familiar with, but rather its shadow, in several senses.

Civilisation in Pictures

A visual tribute

Not so long ago, I re-watched "Civilisation," a fantastic series which originally aired on the BBC in 1969. I discovered this program five years ago, on VHS in Kim's Video in New York. Most of the tapes I rented from there were rarities, avant-garde films with a radical edge. By contrast, "Civilisation" was retro-history, an art scholar offering his old-fashioned views on Western civilization. This was initially part of the charm, in a hip-to-be-square kind of way; what could seem stodgy has in fact gone so far out of fashion that it feels fresh once again. Yet there was more to it than that - and soon I was hooked. Later I discovered my grandmother owned the book that went with the show, I "borrowed" it, read it cover to cover, and still have it on my shelf. Kenneth Clark is a charming host, particularly for American viewers, to whom his Britishisms (polished pronunciation, slight stiffness in delivery, and, let's face it, really, really awful teeth) are novel. He's also a tad awkward onscreen, often gripping his elbows and squinting, occasionally pausing and clearing his throat mid-sentences as if he's camera-shy.

Yet he is incredibly erudite and, what's more, utterly un-pretentious - remarkable given his approach. The show is billed as "A Personal View" and Clark makes no bones about the subtitle. Even narrowing the focus to Western Europe, whole countries are absent (Russia and Spain barely register). Because television is an audio-visual medium, music, painting, and sculpture are privileged - an occasional poem is read out loud but there are no prose excerpts and philosophy is hardly mentioned (with a few exceptions, in which case the thinkers are dealt with more as representatives of a zeitgeist than formulators of systems). The twentieth century is alluded to through shots of airplanes and computers, but no modern art is shown. Elsewhere Clark tells us, evidently serious despite the tongue-in-cheek reference to criticism, "I've spent my life in trying to learn about art, and I am completely baffled by what is taking place today. I sometimes like what I see, but when I read modern critics I realise that my preferences are merely accidental." This is a slight disappointment; even with its limited scope, the series would have felt near-complete had it devoted even just five or so minutes to the whole of twentieth-century art. Instead we get one peek at a Pollack painting (in an earlier episode, where he's connected to J.M.W. Turner) plus the bemused, wordless fondling of an abstract sculpture before Clark exits the film at the conclusion.

What the show lacks in comprehensiveness it more than makes up for in individuality. It surveys about a thousand years of art and manages to touch on most major movements and artists, but "Civilisation" feels neither rushed nor generic. Partly this is due to Clark's unifying presence and pointed perspective, partly it's due to the impeccable craftsmanship of the production. This is another aspect of the series which grew on me; initially, its old-fashioned style provided a retro charm but upon further viewings I realized that the show was far more accomplished as a documentary series than television today can pull off. It varies its scope and style depending upon the material, imaginatively utilizes different locations, techniques, and approaches (while maintaining an overall cohesiveness), and most importantly, it takes its time. We are allowed to drink in the artworks, the music, the locations; even Clark's brisk and often tightly-packed monologues are given enough room to sink in (though it may take several viewings to catch everything).

In short, the series is worth purchasing, or renting if you can find it (the DVD is currently unavailable on Netflix for some reason). As Allan Fish said beneath his eloquent tribute, Clark and his documentary will "make you want to look at the stars." But for now, look at these pictures...

The pictures follow the jump - preceded by a video to give you a sense of the film's flavor: