Issue link: http://digital.copcomm.com/i/780285
8 P E R S P E C T I V E | M A R C H / A P R I L 2 0 1 7 editorial TURN OFF THE SOUND by Michael Baugh, Editor Designers are visual storytellers. We've been told that a lot lately; it's a common way of describing our craft to people less familiar with it, but what is really meant by the expression? How are stories told visually? The pages of this issue provide some good object lessons. In the On DVD pages, the very first science fiction designer, Georges Méliès, can now share with us his tale of Jules Verne-esque space travel in a marvelously restored tinted print of A Trip to the Moon (Le Voyage dans la Lune). There is no spoken dialogue (it was made in 1902, after all), but the action, the composition within the frame, the placement of the actors and set pieces, and most of all the design, push the narrative forward. Thousands of stories were told effectively in silent films. Yes, there was the occasional intertitle to confirm what was happening on the screen. Early ADG artists drew those intertitle cards, often by hand, the origin of the Title Artists category in the Guild's STG branch; but audiences didn't need the cards—they weren't the most important part of the storytelling. Silent filmmakers used the three visual tools that are still all their descendants have today: design (sometimes called mise-en-scène), composition and editing. The first element—the craft we practice—is setting the scene, and choosing the objects visible there. Design is used, when it is done well, to amplify emotion and reinforce the mood. The elements placed in the frame have physical, social, psychological, emotional, economic and cultural significance to the story. Nelson Coates' designs for Fifty Shades Darker tell us everything we need to know about Christian Grey and Anastasia Steele, and their intriguing relationship. Cabot McMullen explores visually the corridors of power in America in his sets for Designated Survivor, some of which echo choices made by past designers for Stanley Kubrick, one of the most visual of directors. (Think about 2001: A Space Odyssey which has very little dialogue but tells a stunning visual story.) The late Stephen Dane used props and vehicles, as well as set details, to tell unforgettable stories. Michael Gallenberg's Superstore is the most important character in that series. Production Designers Dawn Ferry and Burton Rencher are training a new generation of visual storytellers in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. These artists all take design to a high level, providing dynamic imagery and sensory details, deliberately placing characters, colors and textures for targeted psychological effect. We exist in a physical world, and movies showcase settings and scenery in great detail, telling an audience where they are, what time of year it is, what the weather is like. The great masters knew how to tell stories visually, long before pictures could move, in a single frame painted on canvas. Their work became part of the Western visual culture from which cinema emerged, exploring the same genres we design for today—horror, spirituality, violence, realism, fantasy. None of these artists used written words or a soundtrack. How can you tell if a film is effective visually? Watch the film with its sound off. Do you know what is happening? Can you tell who the characters are? What is their relationship to each other? Look at body language and attitude, screen composition, economic indicators gleaned from the environment. Look at everything in the frame. Does each element further the narrative? Things placed in a set without a reason are lost opportunities. You don't have to be a writer to tell a good story. There are lots of ways to spin a tale, and some of the most effective are purely visual. The designer's job is to find that picture that is worth a thousand words.