oblations

Sunday, November 16, 2025

Saturday, November 15, 2025

Although cinema is now over a century old, it is still a young, dreamlike and somewhat restless art form. It will soon celebrate its 130th anniversary, counting from the first public screening by the Lumiere brothers in Paris on 28 December 1895. From the outset, cinema was as a play of light and shadow, designed to amuse and impress. However, these visual effects soon succeeded in conveying much deeper realities, eventually becoming an expression of the desire to contemplate and understand life, to recount its greatness and fragility and to portray the longing for infinity.

Dear friends, I am happy to greet and welcome you. I also express my gratitude for what cinema represents: a popular art in the noblest sense, intended for and accessible to all. It is wonderful to see that when the magic light of cinema illuminates the darkness, it simultaneously ignites the eyes of the soul. Indeed, cinema combines what appears to be mere entertainment with the narrative of the human person’s spiritual adventure. One of cinema’s most valuable contributions is helping audiences consider their own lives, look at the complexity of their experiences with new eyes and examine the world as if for the first time., In doing so, they rediscover a portion of the hope that is essential for humanity to live to the fullest. I find comfort in the thought that cinema is not just moving pictures; it sets hope in motion.

Entering a cinema is like crossing a threshold. In the darkness and silence, vision becomes sharper, the heart opens up, and the mind becomes receptive to things not yet imagined. In reality, you know that your art form requires concentration. Through your productions, you connect with people who are looking for entertainment, as well as those who carry within their hearts a sense of restlessness and are looking for meaning, justice and beauty. We live in an age where digital screens are always on. There is a constant flow of information. However, cinema is much more than just a screen; it is an intersection of desires, memories and questions. It is a sensory journey in which light pierces the darkness and words meet silence. As the plot unfolds, our mind is educated, our imagination broadens, and even pain can find new meaning.

Cultural facilities, such as cinemas and theaters, are the beating hearts of our communities because they contribute to making them more human. If a city is alive, it is thanks in part to its cultural spaces. We must inhabit these spaces and build relationships within them, day after day. Nonetheless, cinemas are experiencing a troubling decline, with many being removed from cities and neighborhoods. More than a few people are saying that the art of cinema and the cinematic experience are in danger. I urge institutions not to give up but to cooperate in affirming the social and cultural value of this activity.

The logic of algorithms tends to repeat what “works,” but art opens up what is possible. Not everything has to be immediate or predictable. Defend slowness when it serves a purpose, silence when it speaks and difference when evocative. Beauty is not just a means of escape; it is, above all, an invocation. When cinema is authentic, it does not merely console but challenges. It articulates the questions that dwell within us and sometimes even provokes tears that we did not know we needed to express.

In this Jubilee Year, the Church invites us to journey towards hope. Your presence here from so many different countries, and your artistic work in particular, is a shining example. Like so many others who come to Rome from all over the world, you too are on a journey as pilgrims of the imagination, seekers of meaning, narrators of hope and heralds of humanity. Your journey is not measured in kilometers but in images, words, emotions, shared memories and collective desires. You navigate this pilgrimage into the mystery of human experience with a penetrating gaze that is capable of recognizing beauty even in the depths of pain, and of discerning hope in the tragedy of violence and war.

The Church esteems you for your work with light and time, with faces and landscapes, with words and silence. Pope Saint Paul VI once spoke to artists, saying: “If you are friends of genuine art, you are our friends,” recalling that “this world in which we live needs beauty in order not to sink into despair [Address of Pope Paul VI to Artists, 8 December 1965]. I wish to renew this friendship because cinema is a workshop of hope, a place where people can once again find themselves and their purpose.

Perhaps we could bear in mind the words of David W. Griffith, one of the great pioneers of the seventh art. He once said, “What the modern movie lacks is beauty, the beauty of the moving wind in the trees.” His reference to the wind cannot but remind us of a passage from John’s Gospel: “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit” [3:8]. In this regard, dear seasoned and novice filmmakers, I invite you to make cinema an art of the Spirit.

In the present era, there is a need for witnesses of hope, beauty and truth. You can fulfill this role through your artistic work. Good cinema and those who create and star in it have the power to recover the authenticity of imagery in order to safeguard and promote human dignity. Do not be afraid to confront the world’s wounds. Violence, poverty, exile, loneliness, addiction and forgotten wars are issues that need to be acknowledged and narrated. Good cinema does not exploit pain; it recognizes and explores it. This is what all the great directors have done. Giving voice to the complex, contradictory and sometimes dark feelings that dwell in the human heart is an act of love. Art must not shy away from the mystery of frailty; it must engage with it and know how to remain before it. Without being didactic, authentically artistic forms of cinema possess the capacity to educate the audience’s gaze.

In conclusion, filmmaking is a communal effort, a collective endeavor in which no one is self-sufficient. While everyone recognizes the skill of the director and the genius of the actors, a film would be impossible without the quiet dedication of hundreds of other professionals including assistants, runners, prop masters, electricians, sound engineers, equipment technicians, makeup artists, hairstylists, costume designers, location managers, casting directors, special effects technicians and producers. Every voice, every gesture and every skill contributes to a work that can only exist as a whole.

In an age of exaggerated and confrontational personalities, you demonstrate that creating a quality film requires dedication and talent. Thanks to the gifts and qualities of those whom you work alongside, everyone can make their unique charisma shine in a collaborative and fraternal atmosphere. May your cinema always be a meeting place and a home for those seeking meaning and a language of peace. May it never lose its capacity to amaze and even continue to offer us a glimpse, however small, of the mystery of God.

The speech was delivered to an audience that included Viggo Mortensen, Cate Blanchett, Greta Gerwig, Julie Taymor & Elliot Goldenthal, Azazel Jacobs, David Lowery, Monica Bellucci, Marco Bellocchio, Alba Rohrwacher, Darren Aronofsky, Spike Lee & Tonya Lewis Lee, Judd Apatow & Leslie Mann, Chris Pine, Sally Potter, Dave Franco & Alison Brie, Adam Scott, Gus Van Sant, Kenneth Lonergan & J. Smith Cameron, Joanna Hogg, Gaspar Noe, Albert Serra and Bertrand Bonello. The coterie of film festival chiefs in attendance included Vanya Kaludjercic from Rotterdam, TIFF’s Cameron Bailey, Locarno’s Giona Nazzaro, Sundance director Eugene Hernandez and Sundance Institute board chair (and filmmaker) Ebs Burnough.

Earlier this week, the Pope revealed his top 4 favorite movies of all time, Frank Capra’s 1946 classic It’s a Wonderful Life, Robert Wise’s The Sound of Music (1965), Robert Redford’s Ordinary People (1980) and Roberto Benigni’s Life Is Beautiful (1997).

https://deadline.com/2025/11/pope-leo-xiv-cinema-speech-a-list-crowd-read-his-speech-1236618389/?brid=Q5Z1eanXAoomkbhomvZrAg

Thursday, November 13, 2025

'blue moon' poster sketch

"The preliminary sketch that Edward Sorel, artist for The New Yorker, drew for a possible Blue Moon poster. Sorel, ninety-six, is a friend of Kaplow’s. He eventually bowed out of the design process for health reasons, but Kaplow cherishes the sketch that Sorel signed and gave to him."

The Brooklyn Rail

Saturday, November 01, 2025

it breaks your heart | a. bartlett giamatti

It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops.

A. Bartlett Giamatti, "The Green Fields of the Mind"

Wednesday, October 15, 2025

photos | matt black | central valley, california

lanare, ca

firebaugh, ca

modesto, ca

alturas, ca

tulare, ca

fairmead, ca

tulare, ca

corcoran, ca

lindsay, ca

matt black lives in california's central valley.

in 2025 he was awarded a macarthur foundation fellowship.

prints can be purchased at magnum photos.

Saturday, October 11, 2025

andrew wyeth | otherworld

2002 painting by Andrew Wyeth

Thursday, October 09, 2025

ordinary things | richard linklater

"As you become older, you want less from the world. You just want to experience it. Ordinary things become beautifully poetic."

Richard Linklater

photo | on the way to schwartz bay | tom balke

tom balke

Wednesday, October 01, 2025

photo | film restoration | matteo de mayda

"The Exhilarating Magic of Film Restoration"

New Yorker

photo by Matteo de Mayda

photo | havana, cuba | rose marie cromwell

the new yorker, sep 29, 2025

Thursday, September 25, 2025

my movie montages

I love the movies. And I like making things. So I spend a lot of time making movies out of the movies. Here are links to some of my ongoing montage projects. (Note: They're always best with headphones, or good speakers. The bigger the screen the better.)

TimePiece

My latest montage, which I made for Culture Days 2025. It's screening in the Richmond Cultural Annex as a public art installation, which in this case means no soundtrack. If you want to see the montage as it was originally intended with sound, here's a YouTube link.

Date Movies

The whole obsession began with the project of finding date references in movies. It started with watching The Longest Day on June 6, 2004, which led to the search to find one movie for each day in the calendar year. Which led to finding a lot more than one movie clip for each day of the year. Which led to making montages for specific days, usually the birthdays of friends. I've created maybe seventy of the darn things, but most of them were posted on a defunct Vimeo account. Here are links to a handful I've put up on the YouTubes.

Jan 6

Feb 7

Feb 21

Mar 1 NEW

Apr 19 NEW

May 13 NEW

Jun 3 NEW

Jun 7

Jun 19 NEW

Jul 12 | with extended credits

Jul 30 NEW

Sep 2

Sep 11 NEW

Oct 2 NEW

Oct 30

Dec 22

Another iteration of this whole dates-in-movies project was to build a thirty minute montage with one clip for each calendar day. I really like it.

A Year At The Movies In Half An Hour

or one month at a time... (September is my favourite)

A Month At The Movies In Two And A Half Minutes

January | dates only | dates titles events

February | dates only | dates titles events

March | dates only | dates titles events

April | dates only | dates titles events

May | dates only | dates titles events

June | dates only | dates titles events

July | dates only | dates titles events

August | dates only | dates titles events

September | dates only | dates titles events

October | dates only | dates + titles

November | dates only | dates + titles

December | dates only | dates titles events

I prefer the versions with no titles, just a stream of images and sound. But if you're curious about what movies the clips are from, or about the events depicted, there are versions including those things as well

Dial V for Video

A tribute to video stores, a trailer for International Independent Video Store Day. 40 movies in 4:32. Here.

Good Time Diner

My son-in-law plays in a band, and they thought it would be a blast to project movie clips behind them while they play, and during breaks. So I got to make some really long montages! Welcome to the diner! Here's a minute-and-a-half trailer for one of their gigs, but unfortunately there are some restrictions for viewing the longer montages at the moment. When I get those sorted out, I'll post links here. In case anybody's got 45 minutes to spare sometime... ,

NT GUILTY: You need a good lawyer?

Movie clips about lawyers and the law, a graduation present for my daughter Katie's graduation from law school. Probably my favourite. Montage, not daughter. Here.

The Movies Go To The Movies: Marquees

A chronology of movie-going, as seen in the movies. A work in progress; here's how far I got by May 30 last year, starting with a 1915 screening of "The Curse Of Drink" at The Gem (from the film "On Moonlight Bay") through to "The Bicycle Thief" at The Rialto in 1991 (as seen in "The Player").

Earth Day International Film Festival: End of the World Edition

And here's the trailer for an imaginary film festival. Just for fun.

photo | ernst haas, september in new york, 1962

Thursday, September 18, 2025

stephen shore on paying attention

Lately, Stephen Shore has been thinking about the quasi-spiritual aspects of photography, an interest that he has had since his early twenties, when he sought out a ten-day workshop with the modernist photographer Minor White. There is something about the act of paying very close attention to the world through the camera, Shore explained, that can mimic a kind of altered state of consciousness, akin to what occurs during meditation.

“This spring, I asked my class about halfway through the semester, ‘How many of you, when you’re working, found that you’ve entered a flow state?’ Every hand went up.”

What Shore was doing during those first days roaming Manhattan with his camera was not just acquiring formal skills but also honing a particular quality of attention that would serve him for the rest of his career. This, perhaps, is why many of his earliest images maintain their vitality today. He told me, “If you were in the present when you were doing the work, the work always exists in the present.”

from Stephen Shore's Precocious Adolescent Eye, Chris Wiley, The New Yorker