“From Painting to Film: Abstract Cinema and Synaesthesia Marie Rebecchi

To cite this version:

Marie Rebecchi. “From Painting to Film: Abstract Cinema and Synaesthesia. From Sensation to Synaesthesia in Film and New Media, pp.205-215, 2019. ￿hal-03226469￿

HAL Id: hal-03226469 https://hal.archives-ouvertes.fr/hal-03226469 Submitted on 14 May 2021

HAL is a multi-disciplinary open access L’archive ouverte pluridisciplinaire HAL, est archive for the deposit and dissemination of sci- destinée au dépôt et à la diffusion de documents entific research documents, whether they are pub- scientifiques de niveau recherche, publiés ou non, lished or not. The documents may come from émanant des établissements d’enseignement et de teaching and research institutions in France or recherche français ou étrangers, des laboratoires abroad, or from public or private research centers. publics ou privés. From Sensation to Synaesthesia in Film and New Media

From Sensation to Synaesthesia in Film and New Media

Edited by Rossella Catanese, Francesca Scotto Lavina and Valentina Valente

From Sensation to Synaesthesia in Film and New Media

Edited by Rossella Catanese, Francesca Scotto Lavina and Valentina Valente

This book first published 2019

Cambridge Scholars Publishing

Lady Stephenson Library, Newcastle upon Tyne, NE6 2PA, UK

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

Copyright © 2019 by Rossella Catanese, Francesca Scotto Lavina, Valentina Valente and contributors

All rights for this book reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner.

ISBN (10): 1-5275-1924-4 ISBN (13): 978-1-5275-1924-4 TABLE OF CONTENTS

List of Figures...... viii

Acknowledgements ...... x

Introduction ...... 1 Rossella Catanese, Francesca Scotto Lavina, Valentina Valente

First Section: Perception

Chapter One ...... 16 Affect in Perception: Cinematic Fascination and Enactive Emotions Enrico Carocci

Chapter Two ...... 32 The Magic of Cinema: Perception, Cognition and Empathy in the Cinematic Vision Chiara Castelli

Chapter Three ...... 44 Color Outside the Lines: Animating a Model of Synaesthesia Jennifer M. Barker

Chapter Four ...... 58 The Sublime Spittle of the Opera Singer André Gaudreault, Philippe Marion

Chapter Five ...... 72 The Theatricality of Alain Resnais’ Films: ‘Mèlo’ and ‘Smoking/ No Smoking’ Valentina Valente

vi Table of Contents

Second Section: Movement

Chapter Six ...... 86 Mechanical Sensations: Étienne-Jules Marey, Charles Frémont and the Issue of Automatism Linda Bertelli

Chapter Seven ...... 102 ‘The Underlying Gesture’: Towards the Notion of Gesture in Jean d’Udine and Sergei Eisenstein Irina Schulzki

Chapter Eight ...... 116 Film as Synaesthetic Object: The Affective Sensorimotor Coupling of Cinematic Image Francesca Scotto Lavina

Third Section: Senses

Chapter Nine ...... 132 Olfactory Experience and the Exploration of Space in Cinema: Alexander Sokurov’s ‘Alexandra’ and Jan Jakub Kolski’s ‘Jasminum’ Malgorzata Bugaj

Chapter Ten ...... 143 Jonathan Glazer’s Under the Skin: Cinematic Clash of Affection and Surface Laura Jacob

Chapter Eleven ...... 151 The Electricity of Blue Roses: Shorting the Senses and Sensing Film Mood in Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me Saige Walton

Chapter Twelve ...... 167 Dust Gets in Your Eyes: Representations of Dust and Debris in Documentary Film and Video from Mainland China Mariagrazia Costantino

From Sensation to Synaesthesia in Film and New Media vii

Fourth Section: Abstractions

Chapter Thirteen ...... 182 “The Murmur of Existence”: Siegfried Kracauer between Aural and Visual Noise Tommaso Isabella

Chapter Fourteen ...... 193 The Poly-expressive Symphony: Futurism and the Moving Image Rossella Catanese

Chapter Fifteen ...... 205 From Painting to Film: Abstract Cinema and Synaesthesia Marie Rebecchi

Fifth Section: New Media and Media Art

Chapter Sixteen ...... 218 A Return to the Techniques of the Body: On the Reenactments of Zoe Beloff Christa Blümlinger

Chapter Seventeen ...... 229 Inventing the Senses: Polish New Media Art and Synaesthesia in ’60s-’80s Karol Jóźwiak

Chapter Eighteen ...... 238 The Sensory Experience of Drone Piloting in Omer Fast’s ‘Five Thousand Feet is the Best’ Calvin Fagan

About the Authors ...... 249

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

FROM PAINTING TO FILM: ABSTRACT CINEMA AND SYNAESTHESIA

MARIE REBECCHI

From Painting to Cinema

This chapter addresses the concept of synaesthesia––a simultaneous mix of sensations, usually experienced in separate ways––which is at the roots of the genealogy of abstract cinema. Abstract film, especially its early developments in the 1920s, offers a significant chance to develop a new, deeper understanding of the status of the work of art and its reproducibility, and of the various experimentations in synaesthetic abstract art made possible by the technical potential of the cinematic medium. Abstract films blended painting, music, movement, images, sounds, forms, and colors in order to create a unique audiovisual work of art, which was no longer aiming to a single perceptual level (vision), but rather pointed towards a fusion of vision and hearing. In this sense, the experimental and technologically innovative role of the abstract film can be made clear through a comparison of cinema’s original properties and the new synaesthetic work of art. The products of experimental abstract cinema can be seen as aspirations to a decisive reorientation of models of perception in a technical sense, contributing in this way to redefine the role of cinematographic experience within the framework of a broader cultural, aesthetic, and technological transformation brought about by the new optical media. From this point of view, the pioneering technical tricks upon which abstract films were based, constituted the construction material for a new language and an unprecedented form of expression founded on the specific technical properties of the cinematic medium: a universal language (Universelle Sprache)––as it was ambitiously defined by Hans Richter and Viking Eggeling in a writing of 1920 that has been lost (Richter and 206 Chapter Fifteen

Eggeling 1920; Foster 1998, 185-239)1––where sound, image, rhythm, color, and movement would be condensed in a single work. The abstract cinema fulfilled the experiences of the early avant-garde theorists, painters, sculptors and poets, and tried to set in motion a significant process of aesthetic upgrading and expansion of the expressive possibilities of the language of film. In order to show the importance of abstract cinema from an aesthetical and technological point of view, my paper shows a vast array of images (paintings, drawings, scrolls), which are at the origins of the very first abstract films of the 1920s. Within this theoretical framework, according to László Moholy-Nagy, the most convincing examples from the technical and expressive point of view were definitely to be sought in the works of Walter Ruttmann, Viking Eggeling and Hans Richter: “The efforts of Walter Ruttmann (Germany), who early enlisted the aid of the film camera in his experiments, represented an important advance in this direction. The forms he drew for animated cartoons marked the beginning of a cinematic composition with still unforeseeable possibilities of kinetic development. Most important, however, were the works of Viking Eggeling (Sweden), who died prematurely. Eggeling – the first after the Futurists to do so –further developed the importance of the time problem, which revolutionised the whole existing aesthetic and formulated a scientifically precise set of problems. On an animation desk he photographed a sequence of movements built up from the simplest linear elements and, by correctly estimating developmental relationships in size, tempo, repetition, discontinuity, etc., tried to render the complexity which grow out of simplicity. (...) In Eggeling's hands the original colour-piano became a new instrument which primarily produced not colour combinations but rather the articulation of space in movement. His pupil Hans Richter has – so far only theoretically – emphasized the time impulse even more strongly and has thus come near to creating a light-space-time continuity in the synthesis of motion.” (Moholy- Nagy [1925] 1973) In this sense, the two films made by Richter and Eggeling respectively in 1921 – Rhythmus 21 (first of a series of experiments on the dynamism of geometric shapes that would be continued with Rhythmus 23 and Rhythmus 25) and Diagonal Symphony (Szendy 2005, 158), attest the evolution of the “rolls” from their initial pictorial form to the abstract, dynamic and musical plasticism proper to the pure cinematic form.

1 H. Richter and V. Eggeling, Universelle Sprache (1920). The original text has not survived; all that remains is a draft republished in English under the title Demonstration of the ‘Universal Language’. From Painting to Film: Abstract Cinema and Synaesthesia 207

Abstract Choreographies and Audiovisual Music: From Fischinger's Early Studies to Disney's Fanstasia

From the end of the twenties, with Walter Ruttmann and Oskar Fischinger, abstract films and “optical music” began to emerge from experimental laboratories and the narrow circles of the artistic avant-garde to be screened regularly in movie houses, thereby reaching a wider audience and allowing the echo of experimental research into abstract cinema to be heard across the ocean. The path that led Fischinger, over the course of the thirties, to explore thoroughly the technical and expressive possibilities of the abstract animated film followed in part the one taken by Richter and Eggeling: after approaching the cinema through the technique of visualization of literary poems by means of drawings on rolls of paper, the shift to animation––due in particular to the need to bring dynamism to the effects obtained with painting on rolls––was almost inevitable. In his 1929 film, Studie Nr. 1, Fischinger already experimented with the use of sound in relation to the rhythmic articulation of lines and surfaces, basing his studies precisely on the relationship of identity-difference, at the structural and compositional level, between the language of music and that of the cinema and paying particular attention to the aspects of melody and harmony in the “animation” of the abstract figure. As he will observe in 1947: “The flood of feeling created through music intensified the feeling and effectiveness of this graphic cinematic expression, and helped to make understandable the absolute film. Under the guidance of music, which was already highly developed, there came the speedy discovery of new laws––the application of acoustical laws to optical expression was possible. As in the dance, new motions and rhythms sprang out of the music––and the rhythms became more and more important.” (Fischinger [1947] 2006, 110) In 1932 Fischinger made a work entitled Tönende Ornamente (Sound Ornaments), with the aim of presenting publicly his research into the production of synthetic sounds drawn directly onto film. In that way, Fischinger had imagined study of the acoustic equivalents of the various ornamental styles that had emerged over the course of the history of the arts (Somaini 2012, 88). The use that Fischinger made of music in the “visual ballets” he created for his Studien was often a preparation for vision itself: in these works the music is synaesthetically shaped as an acoustic weft on which to weave a multicolored concert of images. It is from this perspective of experimentation on sound and moving image that we can also view Fischinger’s aim to go down the road of giving visual form to celebrated and engaging pieces of music: from Brahms’s Hungarian Dance No. 5 to 208 Chapter Fifteen

Dukas’s The Sorcerer's Apprentice, passing through popular music and jazz2. From this point of view, Fischinger’s opening to popular culture, on the one hand, and the interest of the American motion picture production companies (from Paramount to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer) in his abstract films, on the other, allow us to reconstruct the contacts, exchanges and influence of the European avant-garde on the American artistic and cultural scene of the thirties and forties. The first signs of this opening came from Hollywood: in one of Walt Disney’s Silly Symphonies (1929-39)––The Skeleton Dance (1929)––it would not be going too far to point to the presence and development of the concepts of “eye music,” “ornament dance” and “optical poetry” that characterized the experiences of “living painting” and abstract animation on which Fischinger was working in the same years. In addition, in his attempt to identify the cultural contexts and cinematic works that could be used to trace the decisive influence of the European avant-gardes on the Hollywood production of the thirties, Fischinger’s biographer William Moritz saw in the abstract geometric choreographies of Studie Nr. 5 and Nr. 7––a film made by Fischinger in Germany in 19303 and licensed by Universal Pictures to be distributed as a short to be used in the Universal Newsreels and shown before the screening of their full-length movies––a possible source of inspiration for the kaleidoscopic and floating choreographies created by the director and choreographer Busby Berkeley for his films: from Whoopee! (1930) to 42nd Street (1933), directed by Lloyd Bacon; from Gold Diggers of 1933 to the spectacular musical number By a Waterfall in Footlight Parade (1933) again directed by Lloyd Bacon (Moritz 2004, 212)4.

2 In connection with Fischinger’s use of popular music and jazz in his abstract films it is worth mentioning: the popular foxtrot “I've Never Seen a Smile like Yours” utilized for Studie Nr. 5 (1930); the famous ballet Die Puppenfee that provided the soundtrack to Muratti Greift Ein (1934); the jazz symphony Radio Dynamics by Ralph Rainger (composer of film music for Paramount Studios) for Allegretto (1936). 3 It should be pointed out that Studie Nr. 5 was presented at the Congress for Color- Music Research organized in Hamburg in October 1930 by the psychologist and expert on music, art and synesthesia Georg Anschütz (a congress at which Walter Behm had presented a paper with the title Über die Abstrakte Filmstudie Nr. 5 von Oskar Fischinger (Synästhetischer Film). 4 In this connection Moritz declares: “Fischinger transforms the dance into a fantastic abstract ballet in which two levels of 'dancers' flow past and through each other: regular and orderly groups of thin-line, hard-edged figures (unmistakably male and female) which move in a patterned configuration reminiscent of Busby Berkeley's later choreography [...].” From Painting to Film: Abstract Cinema and Synaesthesia 209

Another point of contact between Fischinger and Berkeley should be sought in Muratti Privat (1935), a work realized in the wake of the success of the color film from the year before entitled Muratti Greift Ein, recognized at the time as one of the most prodigious examples of the technique of abstract animation. The fascination exercised by the promotional film made for Muratti cigarettes (in particular on Ernst Lubitsch, who had emigrated from Germany to Hollywood in 1922), which Fischinger had finished a year before his departure for the United States (in February 1936), certainly helped his introduction into the world of American cinema, and thereby contributed to fostering the interest of European abstract filmmakers in American artistic and media imagery (Brougher 2005, 105).5 In this three- minute-long black-and-white advertising film shot in 35 mm we are presented, in fact, with an original and alluring abstract ballet in which the cigarettes, like the geometric shapes of the early Studien, dance ironically to the rhythm of Mozart’s Rondo alla Turca, lining up in mobile checkerboards with the same inviting and undulating motion as the legs of the dancers in some of Berkeley best-known musical numbers (Rebecchi 2012; 2013). In this connection Cecile Starr, in an article examining the question of the influence of European abstract film on Berkeley’s swirling and geometric visual ballets (Starr 2001, 78–83) argues that the abstract models of Dames––a musical made by Berkeley in 1934––had had no rivals until 1936, the year in which Fischinger, moving to the United States following Hitler’s rise to power, signed the contract with Paramount for the making of Allegretto, then titled Radio Dynamics (1943), a film in which the combination of mostly geometric forms that expand and contract in a hypnotic visual symphony immediately calls to mind Berkeley’s style of spectacular choreography. As Starr points out, it would therefore be possible to discern the influence of Berkeley’s seductive musical numbers on the works Fischinger produced during his American period: in this case, the channel through which this second line of mutual contaminations would have passed, should be identified as the film made by Fischinger in 1937 for MGM, An Optical Poem––presented as a visual transposition of Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2––to which an active contribution had been made by a German migrant to the United States, William Dieterle, who, in turn, had just made the musical entitled Fashions of 1934, for which Berkeley had orchestrated some exceptional musical numbers.

5 In fact, as Brougher points out, it was Ernst Lubitsch who, after seeing Komposition in Blau (1935) and Muratti Greift Ein (1934), “convinced the executives at Paramount to bring the experimental filmmaker to Hollywood.” 210 Chapter Fifteen

It is also possible to detect the presence of the sinuous geometry of Fischinger and Berkeley’s abstract choreographies in some celebrated sequences of Walt Disney’s Fantasia (1940): on the one hand, the episode of the Dance of the Reed Flutes set to the notes of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite seems to be a transposition in a ‘liquid’ and floral key of the musical numbers coordinated by Berkeley’s visionary talent.6 On the other, Fischinger’s quest for a total interpenetration between geometric-choreographic and chromatic-musical elements found one of its most successful expressions in his troubled collaboration with Disney on the Bach episode of Fantasia. Walt Disney was planning an animated feature illustrating several pieces of classical music and engaged the conductor Leopold Stokowski, who knew that Fischinger had been making animations pegged to music for some time. Study no. 8 (1931), for example, devised images for Paul Dukas’s The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, a scherzo Disney would later use in Fantasia. Unlike Disney, Fischinger did not illustrate Goethe’s story, but rather translated the textures and movements of the sounds into tumbling black-and-white shapes. In 1938–39 Fischinger was hired by the Disney studio as a “motion picture cartoon effects animator” Having animated the sparkle of the blue fairy’s wand in Pinocchio, he produced sketches and try-outs for Bach's toccata and fugue section in Fantasia. In one major sequence, turquoise and green-grey waves were superimposed by a flow of geometric figures in browns, orangey-red and yellow oranges. His twenty seconds’ worth of film was worked over by Disney staff and the shapes made simpler, for the assumption was that only then would audiences accept them. So, according to William Moriz, as a result of Disney’s statements and suspicions about the colour of the sketches, Fischinger designs were simplified, so that only one figure moved at any one time, and everything was altered to make it resemble some natural form, from a violin to a cloudy sky. Then the Fischinger’s colour were tamed to suit the economics of inking and painting, against Fischinger’s idea of showing the film's soundtrack to demonstrate how various noises and tones actually looked visually. Finally, the non-figurative forms were concretised, recalling real- world objects. Fischinger quit the film in disgust, and a decade later, reflected on the state of cinema, attacking the usual “photographed surface realism-in-motion” that destroys the deep and absolute creative force”: “Even the animated film today is on a very low artistic level. It is a mass product of factory proportions, and this, of course, cuts down the creative

6 Many years later, in 1991, Disney’s homage to Berkeley’s aquatic musical number “By a Waterfall” would be explicit in the musical sequence "Be Our Guest" in Beauty and the Beast. From Painting to Film: Abstract Cinema and Synaesthesia 211 purity of the work of art. No sensible creative artist could create a sensible work of art if a staff of co-workers of all kinds each has his or her say in the final creation––producer, story director, story writer, music director, conductor, composer, sound men, gag men, effect men, layout men, background directors, animators, in-betweeners, inkers, cameramen, technicians, publicity directors, managers, box office managers and many others. They change the ideas, kill the ideas before they are born.” (Fischinger [1947] 2006, 110)

Fig. 15.1. Oskar Fischinger, Drawing for Fantasia, tempera on animation paper, c. 1939. © Fischinger Trust, courtesy Center for Visual Music.

As Esther Leslie observes in her essay entitled Oskar Fischinger / Wassily Kandinsky. Where Abstraction and Comics Collide, “In 1948 Fischinger made seven collages. He clipped reproductions of paintings by Kandinsky and Bauer from old Guggenheim catalogues and stuck on to them cut-outs of Mickey Mouse and Minnie Mouse snipped from Walt Disney comics. In one collage Mickey stares in horror at the black scribbles at the center of Kandinsky's Black Lines 1913, while Minnie points disapprovingly at the knotty mess behind her” (Leslie 2012, 89). So, along here, the worlds of abstraction and mass commercial culture collide. 212 Chapter Fifteen

Perhaps the Kandinsky images mutilated by Mickey and Minnie Mouse were a symbol of his final oscillation between two worlds and two utopian aims: unmasking of social rejection of the civilised bourgeois subject by this mouse-shaped figure of the collective dream, on the one hand, and conceiving of cinema as an abstract and synaesthetic art, able to draw directly on the creative and pre-logical dimension of the language of music, on the other hand.

Towards Computer Art

In the designs that were to have constituted the visual scheme for the musical composition of Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor–– extensively modified in the version actually made for the movie in favor of a more didactic imagery, one that would more accessible to the average member of the public––Fischinger confirmed not just his role as a pioneer of abstract animation, but also as a forerunner of the audiovisual music, theorized in the forties by John and James Whitney, and he gave concrete form in the Five Film Exercises: Films 1 – 5 (1943-45), in which the close correlation between visual and musical ideas heralded the possibility of a full integration between sounds and abstract animated. This history might also be considered the origins of those sophisticated and innovative works of the early sixties realized by John and James Whitney, including Catalog (1961) and Lapis (1963-66); these are works that, in turn, announced the experiments with electronic animation in the early seventies, such as Osaka 1-2-3 (1970), Matrix I (1971), Matrix II (1971) and Matrix III (1972). These last works can certainly be placed on the same level as the experimental research into computer art developed in the laboratories of Bell Telephone in the early sixties by Edward Zajac and then continued with by Peter Foldes, Stan Vanderbeek and, above all, Lillian Schwartz. In 1971 Schwartz made Pixillation, an original experiment in animated abstract painting made possible by advances in the field of electronic technology and by the evolution of studies on synthetic sound. Thus technological progress in electronic processing opened up a new field of studies in the area of motion graphics and abstract animation.

From Painting to Film: Abstract Cinema and Synaesthesia 213

Fig. 15.2. James Whitney, Still from Lapis, USA (1966), 10', 16mm, color, sound © Estate of John and James Whitney – Los Angeles.

Conclusions

This chapter brings to light the contribution made to history of the abstract cinema and audiovisual music by these synaesthetic moving images. In particular, the text examines how the genealogical reconstruction of the first abstract films might be identified with the birth of an alternative perspective on the history of cinema: a history based on the translation of a visual grammar, consisting on a series of elementary graphic forms (painted on paper rolls) into a dynamic vocabulary of cinematographic images. This perspective facilitates a forceful interrogation of the crucial research question. If, as in abstract films, the essence of cinema lies in an alternative and synaesthetic language consisting in moving forms, sounds, and colours, why one cannot imagine that even the device thank to which cinema is reproduced and diffused might be pushed to take an alternative shape compared to that of the traditional silver screen? Instances of “alternative screens” of this kind are the “Poly-Kino” imagined by Lázló Mohly-Nagy in the 1920s and the “Dynamic Square” suggested by Sergei Eisenstein; as alternative and immersive projections environments, we can mention the Movie-Drome theater designed by Stan Vanderbeek in the 1960s, and the 214 Chapter Fifteen

“Expanded Cinema” proposed by Gene Youngblood in the 1970s (in particular the Multiple-Projection Environments).

References

Brougher, Kerry. 2005. Visual-Music Culture. In Visual Music: Synaesthesia in Art and Music Since 1900, eds. K. Brougher, K. Strick, A. Wiseman and J. Zilczer, 88–179. London: Thames & Hudson. Fischinger, Oskar. 1947. My Statements Are in My Work. In, Art in Cinema, ed. F. Stauffacher San Francisco: San Francisco Museum of Art. Republished in Art in Cinema. Documents Toward a History of the Film Society, ed. S. MacDonald. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2006. Leslie, Esther. 2012. Oskas Fischinger / Wassily Kandinsky. Where Abstraction and Comics Collide. In Oskar Fischinger 1900-1967. Experiments in Cinematic Abstraction, eds. C. Keefer and J. Guldemond, 89–96. Amsterdam and Los Angeles: EYE Filmmuseum and Center for Visual Music. Moholy-Nagy, László. 1925 (expanded in 1927). Static and Kinetic Optical Composition. In Malerei Fotografie Film. Berlin: Gebr. Mann Verlag, 1986. English ed. Painting Photography Film. Translated by J. Seligman, 20–22. Cambridge (MA): MIT Press, 1973. Moritz, William. 2004. Optical Poetry: The Life and Work of Oskar Fischinger. London: John Libbey Publishing. Païni, Dominique. 2002. Le Temps exposé. Le cinéma de la salle au musée. Paris: Cahiers du cinéma. Rebecchi, Marie. 2012. Abstractio Multiplicata. Abstract Cinema and the Utopia of the Synaesthetic Work of Art. In The Small Utopia. Ars Multiplicata, ed. G. Celant, 115–127. Milano: Progetto Prada Arte. Rebecchi, Marie. 2014. Fischinger and Disney. The Abstract Cinema Goes to Hollywood. Kinovedcheskie Zapiski, Moscow, n. 104: 213–19. Richter, Hans and Viking Eggeling. 1920. Universelle Sprache. Published with the title Demonstration of the ‘Universal Language’. In Hans Richter, Activism, Modernism, and the Avant-Garde, ed. S.C. Foster, 185–239. Cambridge (MA): MIT Press, 1998. Royoux, Jean-Christophe. 2000. Cinéma d’exposition: l'espacement de la durée. Art press, no. 262, (Novembre): 36-41. Somaini, Antonio. 2012. Our Multiplied Sensibility. Sound recording between artistic practice, aesthetics and media theory (1922–30). In The Small Utopia. In Ars Multiplicata, ed. G. Celant, 83–95. Milano: Progetto Prada Arte. From Painting to Film: Abstract Cinema and Synaesthesia 215

Spivak, Jeffrey. 2011. Buzz: The Life and Art of Busby Berkeley. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky. Starr, Cecile. 2001. Busby Berkeley and America's Pioneer Abstract Filmmakers. In Unseen Cinema: Early American Avant-garde Film 1893-1941, ed. B.C. Posner, 77–83. New York: Black Thistle Press, Anthology Film Archives. Szendy, Peter. 2004. Viking Eggeling. Diagonal Symphony. In Sons & Lumières. Une histoire du son dans l'art du XXe siècle, eds., Duplaix Sophie and Marcella Lista, 158. Paris: Éditions du Centre Pompidou. Vancheri, Luc. 2009. Cinémas contemporains. Du film à l'installation. Lyon: Aléas.