Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Shea post 3

Leni Riefenstahl created beautiful pieces of film. She is a cinematic talent and there is no harm in admitting that. Consider her work with mountain themed films, the concept of sloth vs. achievement demonstrated by valley’s vs. mountains. Intrinsic within these films is the reoccurring idea of an attainable truth, a meaning. Is this not beautiful? In The Blue Light, her dance on the beach, which Hitler so admired, is a sort of celebration of life. She is physically rejoicing in nature. The Last of the Nuba, as portrayed by Riefenstahl, are isolated and unpolluted by the commercial world beyond their own. They practice control over their bodies and their opponents in ritualistic wrestling matches that exist as tests of character. They live off of the land. Think of this life. Is it not beautiful?

Triumph of the Will is not exempt from this common thread among Leni Riefenstahl’s other films. Firstly, there is her material manipulation of the film and filming. Her work is clean. An expansive film and lighting crew, along with generous federal funding and rehearsal opportunities no doubt contributes to the film’s smooth and favorable presentation. The arrangement of these nice, clean cut scenes is rhythmic and calculated. The amount of time allotted, for example, to Hitler’s descent from the heavens and his lengthy trip through the adoring crowd, expresses a sort of transcendental journey through which Hitler must take time to acclimate himself among mere mortals. He does not speak until after his feet have touched the ground.

Some liberties taken by the creator give the film a fantastic sort of atmosphere. “Riefenstahl ignores chronological order almost entirely, working instead to create a rhythmic structure for the film.” (Devereaux, 230). She mixes scenes between night and day and gives the viewer a sense of suspension within the emotion of the crowd rather than in time. The rally’s enthusiasm is ubiquitous, as if all life has ceased to exist beyond it. “Nowhere do we see anyone engaged in ordinary business” (Devereaux, 232). The images she chooses to emphasize, such as a mother and her child offering flowers to Hitler and “healthy bare-chested youths”, appeal to the viewer’s sentimentality and intuition.

More importantly though, in my opinion, is that this film is inflammatory. If Triumph of the Will can be considered beautiful, then it is apparent that consideration is not being given to Plato’s theory that beauty is truth but rather to Picasso’s idea that “Art is a lie that points to the truth.” Beautiful art goes about its “pointing” by means of provocation. Beauty must be poignant, stirring and above all, powerful. It must have the power to move, inspire, change, and provoke the height of emotion whether it be adoration or fury. This film does both.

If we are to believe her that she had no political intentions with the film, that her relationship with Hitler did not influence the film’s intent and that “it is all history-pure history” (4, Sontag), then, no, Leni Riefenstahl does not need to explicitly apologize. From a moral high-horse I would say that she needs to express some form of remorse, some form of mourning over the terrible misuse of her piece as propaganda, for which purpose it was never intended. But she need not say “I regret making the film, I wish I had not done it at all” because that would be wrongfully accepting blame for that which she is not responsible

Now let’s say, theoretically of course, and without consideration to the documented evidence presented by both Susan Sontag and Riefenstahl’s interviewer from the clips in class, that she was for some unimaginable reason lying about her objectives in creating this film the way she did. She would, in that case, owe much more than a simple “so, sorry” to the Jewish community as well as to the other communities targeted by Nazism. She would be held accountable at the same standard as any other prominent figure in the business of Nazi propaganda and tried in a court of law. Her admittance to admiration of and direct contribution to the furthering of Anti-Semitic, racial cleansing propositions by the Nazi party would deserve not only the demand for conscious and verbalized remorse, but for penance.

I think Susan Sontag and I are on the same page here. Her irate yet deliberate discussion of Leni Riefenstahl suggests not only that an apology is demanded, but that one will not suffice. We cannot forgive her. Even 40 years later, Sontag is unwilling to accept Riefenstahl’s work on The Last of the Nuba as a work unrelated to her past. “If the photographs are examined carefully, in conjunction with the lengthy text written by Riefenstahl, it becomes clear that they are continuous with her Nazi work” (Sontag, 5). Her praise of their strength, both physical and spiritual, and their cultural purity is labeled as an adherence to “fascist visuals” (Sontag, 5). According to Sontag, the maintenance of these, shall we say, preferences, attest to Riefenstahl’s nerve in the face of those upon whom her work has had the most atrocious effect. Although it is not explicitly stated, she rejects formalism by implying that neither the art nor the artist can be regarded separately from its/her moral undertones.

Despite Mary Devereaux’s extensive explanation of formalist approaches to evaluating a work of art, her decision is made clear at the end of the piece when she says “Triumph of the will is flawed. It’s flawed because its vision is flawed.” After a lengthy and academically detached trial over the efficacy of separating aesthetic and moral analyses, she comes to the conclusion that Riefenstahl’s “morally repugnant” (227) message, contained within the entirety of Triumph of the Will, exclude it from the realm of art. Does this mean that Leni Riefenstahl is obligated to apologize? I don’t think it does. People try and fail to create art every day. This is not a crime. The crime, instead, seems to lie with Leni herself, in harboring “evil” aspirations. In this light, I believe that Devereaux would hold her (Riefenstahl) responsible for an apology if she were to express a change of heart regarding these aspirations. Since Riefenstahl has never admitted to politically conspiring with the Nazis, though, it would be impossible for her to profess a turn around of the like.

1 comment:

Fatema said...

I really enjoyed reading your examples of beauty within Riefenstahl's work. It was nice how you utilized certain quotes and ideas from the readings as well in order to support your points. I was also impressed by your evaluation of the opening scene in Triumph of the Will as expressing "a sort of transcendental journey through which Hitler must take time to acclimate himself among mere mortals."

I also thought it was ingenious the way you talked about the inflammatory nature of the film as evidence of its beauty. This is a point that I never really thought about before reading your post. It makes sense to think of art as "pointing" to the truth through provocation.

With regards to whether or not she ought to apologize, you seemed to be focusing on what her intentions in creating the film were. While I agree that these are important, I also think that it is imortant to look at how much she knew while doing her work. Were there any indictations of Hitler's plans/ideas that Leni ought to have been aware of? I ask this because it is possible for a person to know the truth within themselves (i.e. that what Hitler was doing was wrong) and still try to rationalize it on the outside (and thus not have any real evil intentions, per se.) Basically, the situation I am painting here would include a Leni trying to convince herself that what she was doing would not negatively affect anyone in the future.

I think you were very adept at describing Sontag's point of view. It definately does appear that an apology from Leni would not suffice for her, so great is the wrong that she sees. And once again, I agree (though I hadn't previously thought of it before) with your statement that Sontag is implicitly rejecting the notion of formalism itself. This she does by connecting Leni's present self and artwork to that of her past.

As for Devereaux, I think that she would actually lay some of the blame on Leni. While I dont think this idea comes out a lot during the course of her (balanced) writing, she does list at the end “preventing a recurrence of fascism” as a reason for watching the film itself, because doing so “involves understanding how fascism came to be thought attractive….” While it is true that the flawed vision affects the art, I think we could also say that the vision is a result of her intentions, and that the flawed vision reflects flawed intentions on Leni's part; an intention to misrepresent Hitler and his government. From the rest of the article, it seems as though Devereaux beleives in Riefenstahl's intentional use of editing to create the message of "One Leader. One People. One Empire."