Andrei Rublev - Andrei Tarkovsky

(Slightly off-film.) Surely Tarkovsky's Andrei Rublev is interesting because, by mistake, it reminds you of where a work of art does not come from? A work of art does not come from the times and the nation that the artist comes from - the subject matter might, and the style might: but the work of art does not. Tarkovsky's main intention in this film is to look at the influences that a people and a time have on an artist; and to wonder, in passing, whether an artist can 'influence' back. In interview he explains that "I link my creative plans to the question of the artist's relationship to the nation and to his time." The Andrei Rublev that Tarkovsky imagines is influenced by coarse buffoons, illiterate peasants who torture imagined criminals, bonkers balloonists, a sexually abusive woman high on her vagina power, rulers who gouge your eyes out, grinning psychopath invaders, and all the rest. That's where Tarkovsky's interest lies. But he does something else, almost by mistake. He has this inspired filmic idea to capture 1400's Russia and Andrei Rublev in black-and-white, and then right at the end Bam! - to switch to colour and to dwell lovingly on the icons that seem to have come out of  this society. It is likely that Tarkovsky meant to show Rublev's work in a neutral way: but this shocking transformation at the end of the movie gives the impression that out of 'that' black-and-white society, comes 'this' vivid art. Out of That comes This -

   

Only it doesn't. Doesn't a moment's thought tell you that it is not like this in any meaningful way? You'd think it might be, but really it isn't. An artist's experiences might govern what he decides to paint ('I didn't want to terrify the peasants into belief'') and the times he lives in might govern his style (the icon) - but there, roughly, the influence stops. Many painters in 1400's Russia chose not to frighten, and many chose to paint the icon, but very few made high art. So where does high art really come from? Doesn't it come from Andrei Rublev's ability to use judgement and inspiration and his luck? Why that shape, why this colour tone, this perspective, this expression? 

How does Tarkovsky evoke feelings? Another interview with Tarkovsky gave him an opportunity to explain that he wanted to make a film that helped the viewer dwell, not on the logic of the plot, but on thought, dreams, memory . . . and above all he wanted to awaken feelings. This seems to be his main aim in Andrei Rublev. First to evoke feelings; after which, thought might follow. The two sequences that seem to attract a lot of audiences are the prologue balloonist-sequence and the casting of the huge bell. The balloonist sequence is the reason I am covering this film. It is so very good. I saw Andrei Rublev decades ago, and this sequence is the only thing I could remember about it. The sequence records the bonkers enterprise in 1400's Russia, to stitch animal skins together into the form of an enlarged bladder, to fill it with hot air, and to attempt to fly beneath it from high-up on a church tower. The balloonist wants to soar above the herds literally, to be different from the group - and others below want to prevent him. This sequence recording some sort of 'human spirit' is so effective in evoking responses in an audience, and after them perhaps 'thought' - but how does it do it? Is it in the soundtrack? This particular attempt to join the birds is beautifully childlike. To a background of nervous instrumental sounds, this childlike man is astounded that his 'bladder' stays up; he calls out to those below, he gasps - and then he chuckles. That is the moment.

And the bell-casting episode in Andrei Rublev? Well isn't it that huge delay before the sounding of the new casting that is responsible for this evocation of feelings? This whole sequence is born of desperation. A boy (man) suddenly out of work, out of context, and out of 'life', through desperation claims a skill he hopes he has. He's never proved it before. That long long wait for the bell note is a triumph for Tarkovsky as much as it is for the boy. What feelings are evoked in that sequence, and what thoughts? It's curious isn't it that both the ballooning sequence and the casting of the bell succeed in evoking a response because of sounds.

To be honest, Andrei Rublev has two astonishing sequences (above) for me, but overall it irritates but I will give it another try in a few years time. It irritates because I can't sort out who is who, and the horrific animal-cruelty is simply stupid-ape behaviour and not worthy of Tarkovsky (the human ape is the only animal to have a conscience and needs to use it - if you must kill animals, then do it with some semblance of human dignity) and it irritates for other hard-to-define reasons which remain unclear at the moment.