Brian Bowman is an enigmatic figure whose work speaks louder than the creator himself. For anyone that frequents Vimeo, it’s almost within all certainty that one of his short films has found its way into your recommendations at one point or another. As a Creative Director for the famed Digital Kitchen digital services agency, Mr. Bowman is consistently at the forefront of cutting-edge film and futurist commentary.
Recently speaking with Truth&Rights editors, Brian makes clear what inspires the inspirator:
T&R: At what point in your life did you realize that you wanted to work specifically in animation, film and their peripheral extensions?
Brian Bowman: I started out my career as an architect working in New York City. After spending several years designing buildings and spaces and then watching most of those projects go on hold or simply stop, the whole thing was too heartbreaking. I had to re-evaluate why I had gotten into architecture in the first place. For me it was the ideas, that was what I was inspired by. I decided architecture was a medium, among many mediums, for an expression of a concept. I then took those concepts and applied them to a filmmaking sensibility.
I started out creating a lot of animations since I used CG tools in architecture for visualization purposes.
T&R: Describe what your role as Creative Director at Digital Kitchen entails?
Brian Bowman: Creative wrangling. When Digital Kitchen is performing at it’s best, it is like a band of wild mustangs. The idea isn’t to tame them (them being people and ideas) and you can’t let them get away from you. You have to drive all of that energy in the right direction and enable a space for momentum to build on it’s own. I am not able to always do this and I fail often.
T&R: In a film such as Lifecycle, you focus on the idea of Utopian ideology. What was the initial catalyst and inspiration for the piece?
Brian Bowman: Lifecycle was born out of an interest in the intellectual aspirations of the 20th century. Projects like Oscar Niemeyer’s Brazilia or visiting the ruins of the 1964 Worlds Fair in Queens are like windows into massive experiments in idealism and failure. The subject of Utopia is so broad, it is kind of absurd to even talk about, so you have to take a point of view to be specific. Lifecycle was my point of view, that there could be a possibility for ideas to renew themselves and fail at the same time. Since Lifecycle is a film, I also wanted to explore the human perspective as well.
I like this quote by Marshall Berman, “To be modern is to find ourselves in an environment that promises us adventure, power, joy, growth, transformation of ourselves and the world — and at the same time that threatens to destroy everything we have, everything we know, everything we are.”
T&R: In what ways has the evolution of digital film and animation improved the conceptual narratives in modern filmmaking?
Brian Bowman: They haven’t, conceptual narratives are exceptionally rare. There is certainly no concept in big budget, tent pole films (if there ever was), those kinds of films are a magnificent series of effects. Film critics tend to be pithy about this observation, I would rather look at what it means. Hollywood films are created for consumption, the box office for the new Transformers movie indicates this clearly. A film like Transformers caters exclusively to the ‘cult of the new.’ The cult of the new doesn’t need a story, character development, or even plot; all they need are bombastic effects to watch in rapid sequence. They may desire a familiar context, such as a childhood reference to Transformer or GI Joe toys, but beyond this nothing more is required. I think it would be interesting to make a Transformers movie without the Transformers, we experience a mind blowing yet artfully abstract choreography of metal smashing metal, explosions, fetishized textures and glowing objects. If we could truly divorce the context from the image then we would be able to evolve the cult of the new through the investigation of radical visual narratives.
T&R: How is the creative process shaped in your work and with those you collaborate with?
Brian Bowman: Collaboration is key to everything. I like it when the team can take ownership over the work and we are all working together, we are all inspired, and everyone feels like they made “this.”
T&R: What is ultimately more important to you, a striking visual aesthetic or a strong narrative? And in what ways do you know that a synergy has been found between the two?
Brian Bowman: I think a strong narrative is more important and I’ll be the first to admit this isn’t always the case in my own work, some of the personal films I have made are lucid at best. Striking visuals are successful when they embellish or clarify an aspect of the narrative in an unexpected way; the narrative is the foundation.
T&R: Your work seems to tap into influences across the board. Are there other artistic mediums or modes of thought that come into play while animating or shooting?
Brian Bowman: The first shot list I ever made was numbered on the tens like a computer program, allowing room to shoot other shots as they happened on set without having to renumber. When the line producer noticed I was planning on shooting 180 shots in one day (really only 18 shots), he had a conniption. I have since conformed to the production standard of shot 2, shot 2A, shot 2B, etc. Architecture, design, science fiction, computer programming, dilapidated buildings, video installations, crappy horror movies, sculpture, playing the Wii, music, comic books, religion, and ritual all have an impact on what I do.
T&R: What do you most hope your audience takes away from your work?
Brian Bowman: Meaning or an intense feeling.
