Sunshine Recorder

My objective is to create my own world and these images which we create mean nothing more than the images which they are. We have forgotten how to relate emotionally to art: we treat it like editors, searching in it for that which the artist has supposedly hidden. It is actually much simpler than that, otherwise art would have no meaning. You have to be a child—incidentally children understand my pictures very well, and I haven’t met a serious critic who could stand knee-high to those children. We think that art demands special knowledge; we demand some higher meaning from an author, but the work must act directly on our hearts or it has no meaning at all.
Andrei Tarkovsky, from “Against Interpretation: An interview with Andrei Tarkovsky,” Framework no. 14, 1981

(Source: tarkovskian, via sirilaf)

The Masterful Polaroid Pictures Taken by Filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky

Today, digitally empowered to take, view, and share a photograph in the span of seconds, we think nothing of the phrase “ïnstant camera.” But to celebrated Russian filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky, who died in 1986 after living almost his entire life in the Soviet Union, the technology came as a revelation. He had, of course, to use a primitive Polaroid camera, but, Tarkovsky being Tarkovsky, his aesthetic sense still came through its little square, self-developing frames loud and clear — or rather, it came through, rich, pensive, solemn, and autumnal. In 2006, Thames & Hudson published Instant Light, a book collecting “a selection of color Polaroids the filmmaker took from 1979 to 1984 of his home, family, and friends in Russia and of places he visited in Italy,” and you can see some of these images on the blog Poemas del río Wang.

The post quotes Tarkovsky’s friend Tonino Guerra, remembering the auteur’s Polaroid period: “In 1977, on my wedding ceremony in Moscow, Tarkovsky appeared with a Polaroid camera. He had just shortly discovered this instrument and used it with great pleasure among us. [ … ] Tarkovsky thought a lot about the ‘flight’ of time and wanted to do only one thing: to stop it — even if only for a moment, on the pictures of the Polaroid camera.” Now that we find ourselves in a new wave of Polaroidism — you can even buy the cameras and their film at Urban Outfitters — we’d do well to study these pictures taken by a man who mastered their form just as thoroughly as he mastered cinema. And if you want evidence of the latter, look no further than our collection of Tarkovsky films free online.

Stalker by Andrei Tarkosvky

Stalker by Andrei Tarkosvky

(Source: seemiyah, via tarkovskian)


Andrei Tarkovsky, Nostalghia, 1983

Andrei Tarkovsky, Nostalghia, 1983

(Source: proustitute)