Ferroequinology: Reflecting Artistic Processes in Non-fiction Filmmaking

RESEARCH STATEMENT

Introduction

Ferroequinology (Nevill 2022) is a documentary about railroad photography. The film follows two artists on journeys across America as they capture traces of locomotives in vast landscapes, intimate stories from passengers onboard and the experience of slow travel. It is also the result of several years collaborating with photographers and exploring different ways to reveal their artistic practices.

As such, the film broadly contributes to two aspects of screen production research. Firstly, furthering depictions of photography and artistic processes in non-fiction film by engaging in practice-led exploration whereby, as Bettina Frankham (2018, 185) suggests, the “form of the work becomes part of the rhetorical strategy of engagement, contemplation and connection” or, in a more general sense, research through art and design (Frayling 1993, 4). Secondly, demonstrating the application of contextual theoretical investigation within a creative film process, in this case into the intertwined histories of cinema and railroad technologies which, drawing on Christopher Frayling’s terms again, constitutes research for art and design as “the thinking is, so to speak, embodied in the artefact” (1993, 5).

Context

Drawing on documentaries like Rivers and Tides (Riedelsheimer 2001) and Over Your Cities Grass Will Grow (Fiennes 2010) as inspiration, I was primarily interested in how this film could explore often-overlooked journeys of making, rather than dwelling on character’s biographical details, their resulting photographic work or third-party commentary. This was driven by my ongoing and related research in cinematography where I have attempted to write about what Tim Ingold terms “correspondences” with material (2013, 31). Ingold argues against so-called “hylomorphism” which prioritises idea and outcome to instead highlight the importance of a continuity of process in understanding creative practice. In the case of Andrew and McNair, the photographers featured in the film, exploring the process became a question of evoking the deep but ephemeral connections each of them formed with places or people encountered during their journeys.

Their ideas, personalities and photography evoked a series of contrasts; exterior and interior, landscape and portrait, exuberant and reserved. Working with editor Nick Gibbon, I tried to structure the film around these contrasts rather than through the lens of a conventional story. As Alexandra Juhasz and Alisa Lebow (2020) have argued, documentary is often overly reliant on story driven approaches and, for us, the juxtaposition between photographers revealed more nuance about their work then a typical “three-act” structure. Additionally, we employed a meandering pace throughout the film which echoes Ira Jaffe’s insight that “cinema must fasten on stillness and inaction” to fully reflect human experiences (2014, 203). In this way, we sought to emphasise contemplative moments that offer an indication of the slow, considered engagement through which both photographers approach their subjects as they explore the unique qualities of a landscape or a shared long-distance journey.

From a historical standpoint, the relationship between railroads, photography and cinema has been studied in detail. Lynne Kirby highlights strong parallels between cinema and train travel due to “its framed, moving image, its construction of a journey as an optical experience, the radical juxtaposition of different places” along with the “annihilation of space and time” that both involve (1997, 2). More recently, Rebecca Harrison, who generously gave a contextual interview for the film, explores how “the railways and cinema are not only connected, but also connect us now to the times and spaces from which the technologies emerged” (2018, 26). Similarly, Rebecca Solnit’s (2004) biography of the cinematic pioneer Edward Muybridge reveals a series of connections between his life, inventions, and the changing landscapes of the American west with railroads as a central theme. As these writers suggest, locomotives hold a significant place in film history; from Auguste and Louis Lumière’s early experiments in The Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat Station (1896) to the iconic John Grierson narrated Night Mail (1936) or D. A. Pennebaker’s Daybreak Express (1953) the movement, machinery, infrastructure, and culture surrounding railroads has fascinated filmmakers since the birth of cinema. Although this history is not directly addressed in the film, it provided a rich source of inspiration and tradition that informed aspects of the filmmaking process.

Artists on Screen

The dialogue between cinema and art has been extensively explored through various theoretical perspectives over the past half century. Most recently, Temenuga Trifonova’s (2022) edited collection Screening the Art World explores the social, political, and cultural dimensions of art’s representation across a variety of film genres. Within this and wider discourse however, there is a heavy reliance on textual analysis and historical viewpoints, leaving a lot to be gained from practical explorations that engage in different forms of collaboration with artists during filmmaking processes. As John Walker suggests in his detailed account of the relationship between cinema and art, so often in so-called “profile” documentaries about artists, “the enigma of the creative process remains because the viewer rarely discovers the reasons for the actions recorded” (2010, 263).

In Ferroequinology, several strategies were employed to help bring “characters” into the creative process. Andrew and McNair became the sole focus of the film part way through production, after I met and filmed with many other passionate, talented photographers. Following a principle of informed consent, which Kate Nash expands to mean “openness and a commitment to being responsive to the beliefs and values of the Other” (2011, 236), this choice of collaborators was led by their unique participation and willingness to shape our production approach in some way. An initial stage of test filming began each collaboration. For Andrew, this involved a short trip to Bear Mountain state park in New York where I spent time observing his work, started to understand his creative process, and discussed shared ambitions for the project. This also served as a logistical test for the later journey that we took together which features in the film. Similarly, I visited McNair’s studio in San Francisco several times where our initial collaboration was sketched out through lengthy conversations, with footage from these visits eventually forming as the film’s opening scene.

Filmed conversations, or interviews, formed a key component of these early encounters which gave us opportunities to shape the structure and focus of the film together. Both narrative threads were devised in collaboration with Andrew and McNair respectively and based around their ongoing artistic projects to act as a vehicle for them to create further work. As such, the film gestures toward a co-creation attitude that Auguiste describes as “essentially dialectical, dialogic, non didactic… a nexus of connections that are rooted in the radical phenomenology of lived experience” (2020, 40). While more steps could have been taken in this regard, I was keen to create the film with Andrew and McNair, rather than about them, which meant including moments or sequences that show the detail, interaction, and perhaps sometimes idealised aspects of their journeys. Their involvement extended into the post-production process as they viewed rough edits of the film to approve the material and offer creative suggestions that I adopted where possible.

From an aesthetic standpoint I felt it was important for the film to act as a companion to Andrew and McNair’s photographs, rather than mimicking the style of their work or simply presenting their images for the audience. The choice of black and white was decided early in the production as a method of distinguishing the film’s imagery from their photographs, bringing clarity for the viewer and perhaps also evoking the feelings of nostalgia often associated with railroad photography. During the edit process, I explored different ways to introduce or “reveal” Andrew and McNair’s work, wrestling with the challenge of intermediality that Roger Halles describes as a “tension between the medium properties of film and those of other arts which it represents in art documentaries'' (2019, 3). At one point, the photos were intercut within scenes in an abrupt manner, and at another they formed the introduction sequence. In the end, withholding a direct representation of the photographs until the final credit sequence, as a culmination of everything seen, felt like an effective way to reinforce the film’s central focus on creative process.

Dissemination

The film was presented at several international festivals; most notably in the documentary features competition at Slamdance Film Festival in 2022, followed by the London International Documentary Festival, Central Scotland Documentary Festival, and Fine Arts Film Festival in Los Angeles later the same year. A handful of screenings at independent cinemas and art centres took place throughout 2022-23 which included the Govett-Brewster Art Gallery in New Zealand as well as the Depot Cinema, Warwick Arts Centre, and Pound Arts Centre in the UK. These one-off screenings were accompanied by discussions with the director and either Andrew Cross, McNair Evans or both artists together, which invited audience participation and generated some thoughtful conversation around the film’s themes.

PEER REVIEW 1

Ferroequinology (Nevill 2022) is an engaging and effective interrogation of the artistic process. The inclusive collaborative approaches outlined in the accompanying statement are commendable and entirely appropriate to topics of process, chance, ephemerality and examining practice over product.

The aesthetic choices are apt, the documentary evidences great restraint in resisting the pull of documentary conventions that prioritise biography and material outcomes.In keeping with the notion of “slow travel” the documentary subtly, and powerfully, evokes the profound in the mundane, as “ordinary” passengers share their personal lives, the “featured” photographers share the excitement of “the romance of the hunt,” the radicalism of being a train nerd, the absurdity of waiting for a train that may never come, the ultimate anti-climax of its passing.

The promise of the research statement is realised in the documentary. Nevill is successful in “evoking the deep but ephemeral connections each of (his subjects) formed with places or people encountered during their journeys.” As above, the restraint and sensitivity with which Nevill approaches and portrays his subjects (and in extension, theirs) is commendable. If I am to criticise the film in any way, perhaps, in places, too much is held back. While I appreciate the relevance of including the photographers’ works in small format across the closing credits, it would have been good to see the images writ larger for better insight into, and appreciation for, the final outcomes; the positioning of these in the credits, for me, is sufficient to hold to the film’s agenda. A few sub-titles throughout would also not have been at odds with the aims of this research, for instance, the vocations and names of Andrew and McNair’s, further into the film, would have allowed me to focus more on subject matter without the distraction of guessing their identities. A credit for Lawrence Ferlinghetti at the close of his poem would have orientated the audience, and similarly, as below, a quote acknowledging the relationship between trains and cinema may have enhanced the experience - but these are all minor qualms.

Ferroequinology: Reflecting Artistic Processes in Non-fiction Filmmaking presents a clear challenge: how documentary film can explore and provide insight into “overlooked journeys of making” without relying on conventional approaches that prioritise “character’s biographical details, their resulting photographic work (and) third-party commentary.”

Nevill’s practice-led exploration, his openness to collaboration (with the subjects), represents an authentic and apt approach to the investigation and representation of artistic process. In acknowledgement of this practice-led approach, perhaps a better title for this research project might be: Ferroequinology: Investigating Artistic Processes via Non-fiction Filmmaking.

Innovation and insights can be found in the collaborative and inclusive methods that Nevill employs in approaching his subjects and research objectives, in the agenda to showcase process over product, in the aesthetic and narrative methods towards a cinema of “stillness and inaction” ... “fully reflect(ing) human experiences.”

The theoretical contexts are made clear in the research statement, including comparative works, references to Ingold’s “hylomorphism” (2013), Jaffe’s cinema of “stillness and inaction” (2014), Juhasz and Lebow’s (2020) reservations on conventional documentary, Walker’s (2010) criticisms of “profile” documentaries and Auguiste’s (2020) descriptions of a “co-creation attitude.” The short discussion on the “intertwined histories of cinema and railroad technologies” that were “not directly addressed in the film, (but) provided a rich source of inspiration and tradition that informed aspects of the filmmaking process” I found particularly interesting; it’s a shame that this consideration could not be brought into the film somehow, even via a short quote in the opening, so that the connection between cinema and trains be highlighted for the viewer, and a little more insight into the motivations of the filmmaker, even to personify the filmmaker.

The closing credits were corrupted for me (in and out of resolution). I assume this is particular to this Vimeo upload.

Great research, great film—my small reservations above.

PEER REVIEW 2

Ferroequinology (Nevill 2022) is an innovative documentary and an excellent Creative Arts research project.

The research statement provides good insights into the creative practice research and the filmmaker’s motivations. Contemporary and historic precedents are well outlined and provide a good context for this project. The travel film genre could provide additional contextualization as the motif of journey is prominent in the work.

The documentary about two photographers/artists reveals their unique photographic and artistic practices well and provides them with an opportunity to demonstrate their processes. The documentary captures them working in their studio and on location. Andrew and McNair discuss their photography and nonfiction artworks as “it's a process-led activity that makes the art” (11:27), as “anticipation… the fundamental quality of cinema” (19:41), “you build up and then you disappoint,” “tiny potential … leaving room for surprises (34:53).” How would the filmmaker summarise his approach?

As a feature documentary and as a research project the work highlights creative processes and portrays the moments of the photographic capture and the “quality of light and the people.” These methods are specific to lens-based practices and it would be great if the research statement could reflect more on this specificity. In situations when the photographer, Andrew, finds it difficult to articulate his original methods, the film’s story takes its place.

As a filmmaker and as a Creative Arts researcher there is an opportunity to reflect on the work with his peers and if the work with photographers had an impact on his own creative practice. There is some great framing in the documentary and the relationship between the cinematic in the still image/photography and capturing a moment in moving-image making could be further explored. In particular, some imaginative travelling shots seem to bring the photographers' practice and the filmmaker’s work into a most interesting conversation in the work itself. Some additional self-reflective discussion points or prompts could take the space for the dissemination section (which could become a footnote). By adding a self-reflective paragraph (or two) the filmmaker would have an opportunity to outline the originality in his work drawing upon Ferrorequinology’s excellent visual qualities.

Overall excellent. A short paragraph as reflection upon the filmmaker’s original approach and how the lens-based specificity is revealed in the documentary, could be a great addition [to the research statement].

RESPONSE TO PEER REVIEWS

I am grateful to the reviewers for their thoughtful feedback and the journal editors for creating this constructive dialogue around the film. I was delighted to read the largely positive comments in these reviews but also appreciate the criticism offered which has helped me to further reflect on the relationship between my writing and creative work.

Firstly, the reviewers expressed an interest in slightly more context or grounding at the outset of the film, particularly by using on screen titles to introduce Andrew, McNair and the opening poem. While I understand this concern, we discussed titles of this sort during editing and I was reluctant to use text to locate the viewer, instead wanting them to get to know the people and places in situ. Similarly, I chose the Ferlinghetti quote to establish an atmosphere which may have been dispelled or overly explicated by an on-screen citation (although proper acknowledgment is given in the film’s credit sequence). I agree that an additional opening quote around the relationship between railroads and cinema may have helped to frame audience expectations and better connect the film to its research context though. At this stage I am unable to revisit the edit so hope that in place of this, the enigmatic title might serve as a prompt for some people to reflect on their viewing experience.

I particularly appreciate the reviewer’s invitation to further define specificities of lens-based practice employed during the film, as well as the impact this project has had on my wider practice. As a cinematographer and filmmaker, there are many parallels between my work and Andrew and McNair’s activities in the film. Like them, I try to explore and understand the world with a camera, regularly travelling to places off the beaten track and often indulging in long periods waiting to film (typically for suitable light conditions rather than the arrival or a train or a talkative passenger). As noted, anticipation is a fundamental part of the process and a skill that I am constantly trying to develop. Whether working on a still contemplative scene or something with a lot more action, I constantly watch and try to be in tune with the subject, to set a frame that will encompass their intentions, that is imbued with the deeper themes of the film through a specific perspective and that may bring an additional layer of meaning for the viewer.

Similarly, McNair talks about being open to surprises and the peculiarities of the world in a way that closely relates to the structured but spontaneous process of our production. We set out on a predetermined route with each “character” and some potential key scenes in mind, but all the details (such as specific people and places featured in the film) were discovered on the way. For me, this meant continuously evaluating our environment, improvising camerawork and creating opportunities for scenes within sometimes mundane situations. Embracing a chance like this hopefully allows the film to better reflect the complexity and nuance of life which in many cases it would have been impossible to mimic by planning in advance. In a more general sense, I have learned a great deal from this collaboration with Andrew and McNair and the privileged insight to their work that was offered. Their commitment helped me to appreciate the potential of long-term photographic projects as both social and personal artistic engagement which has inspired me to explore more conceptually rigorous approaches in my future work.

REFERENCES

Auguiste, Reece. 2020. “Visible Things Unseen: Co-creation and its Philosophical Turn”. Afterimage 47, no. 1: 36-41.

Fiennes, Sophie, dir. 2010. Over Your Cities Grass Will Grow. Curzon Artificial Eye.

Frankham, Bettina. 2018. “Fragments, Form and Photogénie: Using Practice to Research the Intersectional Work of Poetic Documentary.” In Screen Production Research: Creative Practice as a Mode of Enquiry, edited by Craig Batty and Susan Kerrigan, 77-194. London: Palgrave Macmillan.

Frayling, Christopher. 1993. Research in Art and Design. Royal College of Art Research Papers 1, no. 1: 1-5.

Halles, Roger. 2019. Documenting the Visual Arts. Abingdon: Routledge.

Harrison, Rebecca. 2018. From Steam to Screen: Cinema, the Railways and Modernity. London: Bloomsbury.

Ingold, Tim. 2013. Making: Anthropology, Archaeology, Art and Architecture. Abingdon: Routledge.

Jaffe, Ira. 2014. Slow Movies: Countering the Action of Cinema. New York: Columbia University Press.

Juhasz, Alexandra, and Alisa Lebow. 2020. “Introduction: Beyond Story,” World Records 5, no. 1. https://worldrecordsjournal.org/introduction-beyond-story/. 

Kirby, Lynne. 1997. Parallel Tracks: The Railroad and Silent Cinema. Durham: Duke University Press.

Nash, Kate. 2011. “Documentary-for-the-Other: Relationships, Ethics and (Observational) Documentary,” Journal of Mass Media Ethics 26, no. 3: 224-239.

Riedelsheimer, Thomas, dir. 2002. Rivers and Tides. Curzon Artificial Eye.

Solnit, Rebecca. 2004. River of Shadows: Eadweard Muybridge and the Technological Wild West. London: Penguin Books.

Walker, John. 2010. Art and Artists on Screen. Manchester: Manchester University Press.