Morning Mist in the Mountains - Caspar David Friedrich, 1808, oil on canvas
From up on the hill I can see the lightsof town through the treesand there is wind. There is only wind.
Sunrise - F.W. Murnau, 1927, 35mm
fog obliterates the morning
I was born free, and in order to live free I chose the solitude of the countryside. The trees of these mountains are my companions, the clear waters of these streams my mirrors; I communicate my thoughts and my beauty to the trees and to the waters. I am a distant fire and a far-off sword.--words of Marcela the shepherdess, Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quixote (trans. Edith Grossman, Vintage, 2003), p.99.
A Humble Life - Aleksandr Sokurov, 1997, video
Elegy of a Voyage - Aleksandr Sokurov, 2001, video
The Chasseur in the Forest - Caspar David Friedrich, 1814, oil on canvas
Oriental Elegy - Aleksandr Sokurov, 1996, video
breath becoming clouds / becoming rain / uprooting hillsides / dissolving boneswind screaming by Mount Erie, among the cliffs / by the hillside, among the clouds that never lift, saying: 'I am the river.' 'I am the ocean of changing shape.' 'I bring bodies.' / 'In the void you heard my name and you are like me. /You are nothing but a place where dust is dancing'--Phil Elverum (& Nick Krgovich) from "Through the Trees", "Lost Wisdom", "Stone's Ode" & "Wind Speaks", Wind's Poem, by Mount Eerie, 2009.
p.s. the wind in the trees
I began filming on November 3, 2008 in a wooded area adjacent to the Dusseldorf International Airport. There was no wind. It was absolutely still, not one leaf was moving. The high definition captured every tiny twig, while the 16 x 9 aspect ratio allowed for a broader field of vision (lessening the need for a wider angle lens) meaning less distortion. I found the frame and pushed the start button filling two SxS cards with one take – a 114 minute shot. During that time 40 planes landed. The frame remained absolutely still, no registration movement, no dancing grain – a bit like projected slides (if you can recall slide projectors). I wasn’t sure this stillness would be acceptable, but then a plane passed through the frame providing momentary movement. Ten seconds later a wind vortex produced by the passing plane sang through the frame and disturbed one loose branch hanging from a nearby tree. It wavered slightly, and then a bit later a roaring wind followed. The frame exploded with movement. All of the trees swayed raining down their leaves. Then the wind passed and the frame slowly returned to stillness. When the next plane landed it started all over again. Each plane brought varying amounts of movement depending on its size and distance from the camera. When I looked at the footage on my computer that night I realized I had recorded an action that would have been impossible to capture on film.
-- James Benning, “Knit & Purl”, Val Verde, August 2009, Cinema Scope 40, p. 39.