The Shining: Horror Perfected

One of my all time favorite movies is The Shining, starring Jack Nicholson and directed by Stanley Kubrick in 1980. I can’t recall the first time I watched it, although I know I was still young enough that I had to cover my eyes for the more intense scenes. Regardless, it left an impact on me even at that age; there was something unique and indescribable about it, it was like nothing I had ever seen before, and that’s saying something since I had already watched a lot of horror movies by that time. Over time it has haunted me more and more, as I keep watching it and analyzing it, trying to understand it while appreciating it in new ways. Gradually I’ve started to understand what makes it so special, and why it has become one of my all time favorite movies: its ability to create an atmosphere, the incredibly convincing acting, the haunting soundtrack, the tension and uncertainty created through subtle devices, and of course the plot itself, which is scary in its simplicity.

The opening scene is the perfect example of how Stanley Kubrick creates the unsettling atmosphere of The Shining, from the brass symphony playing heavy, ominous tones, to the swooping shots of wilderness and the long winding road up to the setting of the story, the Overlook Hotel. The visual and audio aspects of the opening work in tandem to create this insane tension, and the actual story hasn’t even begun. Kubrick utilizes music and sounds to emphasize disturbing scenes throughout the movie, and it is interesting when you pay attention to it. The infamous scene of the boy Danny riding his big wheel through the empty halls, as the wheels go from carpet to wood, from silence to a jarring rattling and that keeps you on the edge of the seat. In similar scenes the music will build up, like an insane symphony inside the hotel and the mind of Jack, the main antagonist, and then suddenly cut out with a piercing screech, as something terrifying occurs. I think it is important to note however that these are not jump-scares as you might see in recent horror movies; they are planned out, and don’t lead to chaos, but instead disturbing silence. As important as the sound is in the atmosphere of the film, silence is just important. I find it fascinating how well The Shining pulls this off, better than most horror movies ever have.

Image result for the shining

The other thing that makes he Shining so unique is the simple story, a descent into madness, but portrayed so well by Jack Nicholson that it is unexpectedly disturbing. Recently I saw the sequel to The Shining, Doctor Sleep, which focuses on Danny as an adult, and in it he returns to the Overlook Hotel where he encounters the ghost of his dad, Jack. This Jack was not played by Jack Nicholson however, and it was so weird to see how different the two actors were. Jack Nicholson dripped with insanity, where this guy seemed so staged and reserved. It made me appreciate just how great Jack Nicholson was in the original role: he committed to the role in such a rare way that made it so convincing, and his mannerisms and tone throughout the movie are so iconic and haunting that you can’t even tell if he is acting.

I could go on for hours talking about all of the small details that make The Shining great, from the symbolism and imagery to the aesthetic of the film and the cinematography, but ‘ll save that for another time. For now, I highly recommend that you go and watch it immediately if you haven’t seen it already. Even if you have, watch it again and pay attention to how Kubrick uses music and sound design to create the unsettling atmosphere of the Overlook, and notice how Jack Nicholson embodies the insanity of Jack Torrance. It is an incredible work of art that stands as one of the highest points in the horror and thriller film genres, and it should be appreciated as such.

The Singing Ringing Tree

There is a tree in a little town in Lancashire, England, but unlike the trees outside my window, this tree does not shed its leaves or sway with the breeze. This tree is made out of galvanized steel pipes that hum when wind flows through them. It is my new favorite piece of sculpture/experimental music and I constantly find myself captivated by its haunting sounds in videos like this:

What an absolutely incredible silhouette, and an amazing way to see the sun rise. As part of a project to rejuvenate the landscape of the area, artists Mike Tonkin and Anna Liu completed the Singing Ringing Tree in 2006, adding to a series of sculptures built along the countryside.

What I love about this sculpture is how it harnesses the natural energy of wind and translates it into sound. So many of the forces and phenomena of our world can be expressed creatively through sound, and in many cases these types of translations provide us with a new way to understand and experience the world. For instance, here is a talk by artist Robert Alexander in which he uses sound to represent data collected from space:

#socool

What he touches on that I find fascinating is how digital data sets translated into frequencies often sound like organically produced sound. How cool is it that all of the music that we listen to when we’re walking to and from class, when we’re trying to cram for an exam, or when we’re busting moves at a party, is a string of code that is translated into sound? I think that everything in the world can probably be sonified, and I think this would be such a cool way to experience the world. Who needs commodification….why should we monetarily quantify things when we can sonitize them?

 

The Power of Sound

After reading an interesting article from the BBC on listening vs. hearing, I thought about the supremacy of sound over the power of sight.  In the article, the scientists brought up an amazing point.  It was that we give such a power to visuals, even though when we sleep, our eyes take a break beneath the fleshy shutter of our eyelids.  Meanwhile our ears remain in tune to any iminent sounds of danger of the voices of our loved ones.

And in terms of memory and recall, there is a reason why many romantic couples have ‘a special song’ that immediately sends them to a different place and time, where they vividly remember times past.  There is also a  reason why the two dissonant chords of the Jaws theme produce the a frightening image of a shark, whereas a mere picture of a shark produces an nonplussed exclamation of, “Cool, a shark,”

And when you think about it, sound is so much more subtle and nuanced than vision.  In real life, trees and flowers, cannot crescendo or decrescendo.  They cannot get louder.  You can move closer to a daffodil, but it cannot impose itself on you.

As a writer, to get myself into a certain mood, I will often set my Pandora station according to what mood I would like to evoke.  When writing urban fiction, I find tango fusion to be an excellent, sultry and stealthy set of vibes to get me going.  When writing about Byzantine icons, I find Greek motets to be the right compositions for the job.  And when I’m writing literary theory essays, I find simple solo piano pieces to be the right pace and timbre to get my own fingers steadily going on my keyboard.  Music definitely helps me write.  As it keeps going, I keep going.

But I could never put up a slideshow of images to watch while typing.  Although I love perusing Pinterest for travel inspiration or just to gawk at beautifully composed photographs taken by other travelers, I cannot simultaneously view pictures and write.  Although I draw inspiration from great images, my adoration and inspiration of images must be separate in time from my inspiration in writing.

I guess there is just something so disjointed about images.  Something stuck in time.  Something that stops the second you look away.  But music continues.  It commands your attention and curbs your thoughts to its emotional beck and call.  It builds scenes in your mind that don’t stop, but go on until the final decrescendo.

This post may have arisen because I am currently studying for Art History exams, and my gouge my eyes out if I have to stare at yet another Medieval or Romanesque cathedral tympanum….