A Conversation with Gérard Rudolf: Episode 1

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As a follower, it is truly captivating to delve into the multifaceted world of Gerard Rudolf, a man who embodies the spirit of artistry in every fiber of his being. Over the years, I have been fortunate enough to witness his evolution as an artist, and I must say, it’s been nothing short of mesmerizing.

Welcome to Talking Movies, I’m Spling…

Our discussion starts with the multitalented individual, Gerard Rudolf, an actor, author, director, photographer, and poet. He’s been actively producing works for around thirty years…

Lovely to see you again.

As always, thank you.

So, you know, we’ve obviously been friends for a while now and you so graciously gave me a photo for the cover of ‘The Essence of Dreams’. I actually wanted to find out from you, is that the Huguenot Tunnel? And is there a bit more of a story to that image?

Absolutely, that’s the Huguenot Tunnel. I’m quite an avid photographer as I always carry my cell phone, which means I’m snapping photos all the time.

It appears I have more than 10,000 photos on my phone, some better than others. However, one photo stands out – it’s a memory from a past road trip with my partner. I’m always striving to capture that cinematic essence in my photographs.

Among the many images I captured, there’s one particular shot of the tunnel that seems to harmonize perfectly with its structure. That’s why I suggested using this specific photograph, as it carries a cinematic vibe reminiscent of film, resonating deeply within the realm of cinema.

It actually reminds me so much of Lost Highway and David Lynch. There’s a shot that he uses in that film that has got such a similar feel to it. And I thought that’s why it made such a great marriage to the book because David Lynch’s films are all about dreams and the essence of dreams and all that sort of thing.

I think the symbolism of a shot like that is a portal actually.

It’s got such a surreal feel. It’s otherworldly. It sort of bends those lines with the light that it kind of makes you look at it again differently. And I think that’s what Lynch does with his films as well. He takes the ordinary and exploits it to the point of alienating it and making you kind of see this thing in such a new, different light.

But you’re a man of many talents. I already mentioned quite a few of those things you do poetry, photography, you’re an actor, a director, a writer. You kind of seems to me as though you’re trying to live the artist’s life in many ways, which I really admire and respect. I try to sort of reach for as well in my life. In all of those pursuits, is there a favourite?

As a passionate movie buff putting it in my own words, I find an intimate connection between capturing moments through photography and crafting verses in poetry. For me, these two creative outlets are like two sides of the same coin – they complement each other beautifully. Often, I find myself drawn to photography as a means to express emotions that I might struggle to put into words with poetry. It’s less daunting, perhaps because it requires fewer words and more images to convey the intended message. But make no mistake, both are labor-intensive in their own ways – just like how a great movie can take countless hours of scriptwriting, filming, and editing, so too does a powerful photograph or poem demand dedication and patience.

I strive to make my photographs as poetic as feasible, essentially turning them into visual sonnets. You might say they’re unwritten poems that I capture spontaneously, simply recording the poetry that surrounds me at every turn. I’m deeply enamored with the world, you understand. I’m captivated by the beauty of the world. This affection has always been within me.

I’m a dreamer. So it’s very hard… even in hardcore images, because I take some hardcore images of street people and so on from time to time. I frame it in such a way that I don’t actually impinge on their privacy as beings who are sharing this dream with us, you know, because I truly believe that life is a dream. And my photography and also my poetry. My poetry is cinematic and my photography is poetic. So I can’t separate the two, but those are my two big passions, yes.

Actually, on the note of being respectful of people’s privacy and that idea of photos sort of stealing a bit of your soul, which is something that is almost globally accepted with some of the cultures that see this photographic thing come into their space and realise that there’s some kind of there’s some kind of value to having your photo taken.

In the realm of street photography, there’s been an ongoing discussion about where to draw the boundary between privacy and public life, a line that’s often blurry. However, some photographers, including myself, tend to approach this issue with a more adventurous spirit, disregarding these lines to a certain extent. My primary focus is not on the ethical considerations, but rather on the artistic aspects – specifically, the composition and narrative within the confines of my camera’s frame.

Since I prefer capturing my belongings in a square format, reminiscent of 16mm film and similar styles, I mainly focus on storytelling. I leave room for viewers to imagine their own narratives. I strongly believe that the camera is humanity’s most remarkable invention. It serves as a time machine, enabling us to witness how the world appeared over 150 years ago. This ability to travel through time is both incredibly powerful and emotional. Similarly, early films like those of Charlie Chaplin hold great significance, showcasing the dawn of moving images.

It’s a time capsule.

This artifact serves as a window into the past, offering a glimpse of how the world appeared at a specific moment in time. What makes it particularly poignant for me is when I come across photographs that are over a century old. As I gaze upon the faces, especially the children, I can’t help but wonder about their lives and the people they grew up to become. Tragically, they no longer walk among us; they’ve moved on, leaving behind an empty space in those timeless images.

In a peculiar yet captivating manner, even though they’ve left this physical world behind, their spirits appear to be vibrant and alive. They seem to be enjoying life, expressing emotions like happiness or sadness, sometimes striking poses for the camera, and being aware of their surroundings. This realization always moves me deeply, particularly in old photographs… it’s the people who leave such an impact.

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2024-12-15 23:43