Sergei Parajanov is one of the most appreciated experimental filmmakers that ever came out of the Soviet Union and I find his films to be made of genius and heart. His collages, furthermore, have inspired me tremendously, and I often attempt to emulate his technique. Below is one of his collages:
And here is one of mine, done not too long after I visited his museum in Erevan, Armenia in 2004:
As an avant-garde auteur, Sergei Parajanov became a legend after the release of his film, The Color of Pomegranates, because of its then racy content, abstract design, and genius. The film gained him a lot of success and popularity internationally, but it was also banned in the Soviet Union and, soon after, he was arrested on a variety of nonsensical charges. Exploring the realm of obscure film, Parajanov uses unconventional sound techniques, unique acting, experimental filming and editing, and a vast amount of symbolism to tell the story of the famous Armenian poet and musician, Sayat Nova. The tortures of his physical and psychological existence are pieced together in this abstract visual representation of Sayat Nova’s life.
With a script containing no dialogue, The Color of Pomegranates became a strong force mainly because it revisited silent cinema and revamped it. Similar to films of the 20s, the main characters do not speak to one another in audible words. More is explained through the visuals, music, and text. For example, near the beginning of the film, there is a scene with Sayat Nova as a youth, watching his family dye wool to make rugs. A large metal disk is placed nearby the heated pot full of wool and dye. As the men retrieve the mounds of wool from the pot, they drop it onto the disk. Before the wool falls, the viewer hears the loud dripping of the dye onto the metal and then an even louder thump when it lands. This action is repeated several times and the noises themselves create the mood and help the viewer understand the kind of childhood the main character had. Being raised amongst workers who constantly followed the same perfunctory routines daily, Sayat Nova felt separated from them and did not want to continue in their tradition.
Sergei Parajanov remains one of my favorite filmmakers and I hope that I too will have the ability to tell stories in such a guttural and raw manner one day.
After Parajanov’s death in June of 1990, Federico Fellini said, “With the death of Parajanov, cinema lost one of its magicians."
