glossen: aufsätze
Susan M. Schürer: Three Generations of Highs and Lows: Elevation and Emotion in Edgar Reitz Heimat The highs and lows in the title of this article have a double meaning. They refer, first, to spatial elevation: high, as in up above, low, as in down below, and, second, to the human emotions that we refer to with those same designations, high, as in joyful, low, as in sorrowful. The purpose of this article is to draw attention to the use of physical elevation as a cinematographic technique to enhance the emotional highs and lows of the characters in Edgar Reitz sixteen-hour, 1984 mini-series, Heimat, and to suggest that his use of this technique must have been intentional. Moments of pure joy and sorrow stand out rather vividly in Heimat by virtue of their scarcity because the dominant mood of the three generations that revolve around the life of the main character, Maria, is neither joy nor sorrow, but rather apprehension and anxiety. Maria, born in 1900, lives through the First World War and its aftermath, the Weimar Republic, National Socialism, the Second World War, the economic pressures of the Wirtschaftswunder, the sixties, and the seventies before her death at age 82. In the midst of all this, she and her family and neighbors find little to celebrate and learn to take adversity in stride so that the few genuine highs and lows cannot help but catch the viewer's attention. To demonstrate Reitz technique of employing spatial elevation to enhance the aesthetic impact of these moments, this article will offer you the opportunity to play and study seven scenes from the film: three highs, three lows, and a final scene of remarkable synthesis. But first a disclaimer: to discuss any individual scene of Heimat is a difficult proposition because Reitz, whose artistry is so reminiscent of Thomas Mann's, truly does weave a tapestry of images, metaphors, and symbols. Anyone who studies Reitz comes to respect his deft, subtle, and powerful use of these artistic means. Virtually every object and character included in the film carries meaning and messages that link to other objects, to other scenes, and to multiple ideas. Any scene may, therefore, spread its visual tentacles out in countless directions and might become the subject of an article of its own. Attempting to discuss seven of these individual scenes, then, almost necessitates a degree of superficiality; and for those who experience frustration or discomfort because of it, I offer two thoughts. First, remember that the stated purpose of this article is to draw attention to Reitz use of landscape to enhance emotional mood, not to explain the implications of each scene; second, if you have not found the sixteen leisure hours required to watch the series relax and appreciate these few scenes which, by themselves, will outline the plot for you. After this disclaimer, please allow me to proceed with the promised three scenes of joy, three of sorrow, and one of synthesis. The first joyful occasion Beyond this, the scene also has enormous significance for a discussion of joy and sorrow for it marks the happiest this group will ever be up on their hill, enjoying the view and a live radio concert in the sunshine and fresh air. Never again will we see them all together so happy and carefree. But the narrator will recall this scene for us over and over again, reminding himself and us that these were the good times when they were really happy. One can say, in fact, that this is the only scene of unadulterated joy in Heimat. Still, two more scenes link higher altitudes with joy, incomplete though it be. The second joyful occasion The third joyous occasion This wedding scene, happy as it is, suggests that street level in Heimat is the level for contending with life's realities. In the case of this young bride, the seriousness of her circumstances and those of her husband does not lead to tragedy. Her husband returns safely, and they start their new life as a family. However. Reitz also sets two moments of decision in the Heimat series that bring unending sorrow to the main character at street level. In both cases, the streets indicate not merely the level of the mood, but serve also as the conventional road of life in the journeys of young men in search of themselves. If you will recall, part one of episode one ended with the picnic at Baldenau, during which Maria had her eye on the young scientist, Paul. Part two of episode one ends with a scene
Reitz highlights their status as outcasts by shifting their love affair from Maria's house, to a pup tent in a field, and then ot an underground cave that the viewer has never seen before, an empty, cold, inhospitable place full of hard, sharp angles. The nature of the scene When Maria and her elder son run Sissy out of town and out of Hermann's life, he leaves the Heimat at age 18 for good. He does not return until well into his forties, seeing his mother only twice and fleetingly before her death. Her sorrow over losing this youngest and favorite child exceeds that of having lost her husband, and comes in her old age when she no longer has the resilience to bounce back as she did at 23. Because of this, the heroine of our story, once gracious, sweet, and good, takes to drinking and dies an embittered, old woman. To summarize thus far, I have shown you three highs and three lows: two picnics and one wedding, two flights from home and one flight underground. In doing so, I have attempted to illuminate the cinematographic technique of using elevation to enhance mood with the strong implication that this correspondence represents an intentional decision on the part of the director. If the six scenes I have shown you do not suffice to convince you of this, consider now the conclusion of Reitz 16-hour epic. In this conclusion This concert becomes a phenomenal synthesis of highs and lows. The lows derive, of course, from the concert's location in the cave, that same hard, cold place known only to outcasts, a place of loneliness, sadness, and loss. Now we see it cast in a bluish light, making it colder still, but somehow also ethereal, one might say cathedral-like, even reaching upwards as cathedrals do. Hermann is elevating this forgotten place with his music, voices singing at the top of their lungs, joyful notes sailing through the air to be carried up and out through the cables and wires to his director's booth on the road above, and further still on radio waves through the stratosphere. And what do the voices sing? Abstract, short utterances, isolated snapshots of the Heimat, and over and over again in the refrain Knebbesche, Kriesele, Wede, und Schläe, Knebbesche, Kriesele, Wede und Schläe. Hermann mixes memories, personal and shared, regional and universal, joyful and sorrowful into one great live Gesamtkunstwerk of the present that combines tradition and modernity, and that could not be of greater poignancy to the story itself. Of Marias three sons, the first sacrificed his own economic success in an effort to provide jobs in the Heimat. The second built a successful business by dismantling the Heimat literally board by board and reconstructing it in urban restaurants and bars. The third son, Marias bastard son, uses his distant memory of his Heimat to create something utterly unique in honor of that place, significantly, without changing it in any way. This scene could not be of greater poignancy to the aesthetic dimension of the film. Hermann's artistic synthesis is that of Edgar Reitz himself. Like Hermann, Reitz left the Hunsrück region for thirty years and, upon returning, was motivated to create a huge work of art, the Heimat series. [1] In other words, the artist we see on the street between the highs and lows enjoying the grand finale is not just Hermann, but our director who has found some measure of balance and peace through artistic expression. It is, in fact, a rather unusual scene for its humility. After all, it is nothing more than a shot of a man in a production booth on a deserted road. Yet, it lingers for a dramatic length of time, allowing Reitz and us to savor his well deserved moment of accomplishment. To come full circle on the issue of artistic intent, this grand finale derives its tremendous power and beauty from its artistic synthesis, from the blending of highs and lows. Artistic synthesis cannot be achieved without first establishing clear distinctions between its component parts. Therefore, we must assume that the locations chosen for earlier scenes of joy and sorrow, which divided them so graphically in our minds, were chosen intentionally by the director. ENDNOTES [1] Anton Kaes, From Hitler to Heimat: the Return of History as Film. Harvard: Cambridge, 1989 164. |
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