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ple); the street corner sequences where we see multiple layers of imagery through the glass and reflected in it remind me of, say, Richard Estes; the sequences along the sidewalks, sometimes of Ray K. Metzker. I don't claim any expertise in the contemporary fine arts, but I wonder if you keep up with what's going on in painting, photography, the arts in general, and whether to some extent, sequences in
The Lighted Field
were homages or challenges to particular artists or kinds of work?
Noren:
I try to keep up. I have a great appetite for images of all kinds, so I'm always looking for what I might devour. Like any other food, there's a lot of poor quality and very little that's really good. You can starve in the midst of plenty.
I'm aware of the work of some of the people you mention, and I think that some of it is pretty good, but certainly no homage was intended. Living in a city like New York, multiple reflections in windows are an everyday occurrence, all you have to do is look. The light on the glasses I saw one day when I was washing dishes and simply shot it, no more and no less.
MacDonald:
At the end of
The Lighted Field,
there's a funny little coda, where we see the shadow of your arm as you flex your muscle. It seems a fitting conclusion to the film, which, so far as I'm concerned, proves that you can "play" the 16mm camera and black-and-white film with more ingenuity and dexterity than any other filmmaker. The making of the muscle seems a frank recognition of what you have indeed been able to accomplish; there's nothing in it of youthful egoit's more a simple refusal to be falsely modest, almost as if to say to the viewer: "I'm a little amazed at what I can do, too, but there's no point in my pretending that I'm not excited about what I've learned over the years and what I can accomplish with this camera!" Is that what you had in mind in the final shot?
Noren:
No, although you're most gracious and generous! That gesture was actually made by the limb of the tree whose shadow you see in that shot, not by me. It was an unusual occurrence, to be sure, and I was fortunate to be standing there with my camera.
MacDonald:
Some general questions: Do you go to conventional films often? Are there particular commercial films or filmmakers you especially admire?
Noren:
Rarely, these days. I live some distance from the city, and it's difficult for me. I still enjoy Robert Bresson.
Au Hasard Balthazar
[1970] is one of my favorite films. I like
Une Femme Douce
[1969] a lot, too. And I'm still interested in Godard. I thought
Hail Mary
[1985] was good. And Wim Wenders
Wings of Desire
[1987] was interesting.
MacDonald:
How much avant-garde film do you see? Are there particular filmmakers you make a point of keeping up with?