Notes on waiting: Háy Ágnes› Várakozás

A film con­sists of frames. The con­ti­nui­ty of move­ment is frag­men­ted to pha­se images. This set of images can be trea­ted as an assort­ment of ele­ments, which can be used in as many orders as many times as we plea­se.” (Háy Ágnes: A film­idő gra­fi­kus ábrá­zolá­sa)

A bus stop is a place for wai­ting, offe­ring a chan­ce to rest amidst the acce­le­ra­ting pace of life, a chan­ce to obser­ve details, other pas­sen­gers, or it might be used as an excu­se to do not­hing for a while. The natu­re of the situa­ti­on makes one com­ple­te­ly con­scious of time. One might be stan­ding, sit­ting or wal­king around, or in some cases pay­ing an exclu­si­ve atten­ti­on to time. When arri­ving at the bus stop, the pas­sen­ger might alre­a­dy know the exact time of depar­tu­re, or spe­cu­la­te the dura­ti­on of the wait. Whe­ther car­ry­ing shop­ping bags, tal­king to an acquain­tance, rea­ding the news­pa­per or che­cking the pho­ne at the bus stop, our thoughts are con­stant­ly revol­ving around the pas­sa­ge of time.

Vára­ko­zás, a short film by the Hun­ga­ri­an artist, Háy Ágnes, ana­ly­ses fil­mic time through the noti­on of wai­ting in a bus stop. The film starts with a quick sequence of still clo­se-ups of the place, which, by fol­lo­wing the flight line of a bird, seems to indi­ca­te the pha­ses of move­ment. At the same time, the images gra­du­al­ly shape our sen­se of space. One figu­re appears in seve­ral stills, almost at the same posi­ti­on but with dif­fe­rent back­grounds. A bird flies by and other pas­sen­gers and cars cross the pic­tu­re. Then, more peo­p­le appear, as if the stills crea­ted a cata­lo­gue of the peo­p­le in the bus stop.

I don’t remem­ber every time I’ve spent in bus stops. But I can recall seve­ral sta­ti­ons, whe­re I was a regu­lar visi­tor. I remem­ber some tufts on the ground, tou­ch­ing the lea­ves I tore off a cer­tain bush, the break on the con­cre­te in which the rain stop­ped. And I also remem­ber some peo­p­le I tra­vel­led with, striking fel­lows, pro­ble­ma­tic ones, some I found fami­li­ar and ano­ther who stared at me.

After the titles, ever­y­thing chan­ges in the film. Ins­tead of clo­se-ups we final­ly see the who­le bus stop, and from this per­spec­ti­ve, life can be seen in qui­cke­ned images in moti­on. Noti­cing a sharp dif­fe­rence might strike one as fun­ny, I cer­tain­ly smi­led see­ing this abrupt chan­ge. After that, the game beg­ins; I tried to find ever­yo­ne from the stills in the moving image. While wat­ching the seve­ral lay­ers of the image, a swing appears in the back­ground, peo­p­le wal­king on the other side of the road, the moti­on is slo­wing down gra­du­al­ly and I feel a vague con­fu­si­on. It takes me a while to rea­li­ze that the image has star­ted to nar­row down, to match the size of the bus. I smi­le again. Music, com­po­sed by Vidov­sz­ky László, also con­tri­bu­tes to this effect on me, as the metro­no­me-like sound pace acce­le­ra­tes with the bus, which slow­ly comes into view, and the music beco­mes a solemn anthem of its arri­val. The bus rolls in slow moti­on, final­ly stops, and befo­re ope­ning its doors, the image free­zes again. The last still, almost one minu­te long, cle­ar­ly sepa­ra­tes the expe­ri­ence of wai­ting from the expe­ri­ence of wat­ching peo­p­le wai­ting for the bus.

Basic idea: At the begin­ning of wai­ting the per­cep­ti­on of time is quick, then it starts to slow down, even­tual­ly until it beco­mes unbe­ara­ble.” (Háy Ágnes: A film­idő gra­fi­kus ábrá­zolá­sa)

Háy Ágnes: Graph for Vára­ko­zás.

http://​cata​log​.c3​.hu/​i​n​d​e​x​.​p​h​p​?​p​a​g​e​=​w​o​r​k​&​i​d​=​7​8​3​&​l​a​n​g​=HU 

Háy Ágnes: A film­idő gra­fi­kus ábrá­zolá­sa. (Gra­phic Illus­tra­ti­on of Time in Film) In: Mozgó Képek. Mozgó Film. No. 1. BBS, 1984. (trans­la­ti­on of the excerp­ts by Babos Anna)