The Measure
The Measure is a project created by Monty Kaplan, which is an adaptation of Robert Creely’s poem of the same name. It is a story about a scientist morbidly preoccupied with the idea of time travel. Through cinematographic presentation, Monty examines themes of obsession and a painful struggle to reach the answers that are beyond the limit of what is possible.
The narrative is built through three central angles: the POV of the scientist, the Journal that lays down the formulas, and the painful experiments. Black & White images and the sophisticated approach to the light bring about the extreme emotions of frustration when the main passion is slowly drifting away. The Measure was selected to be a part of the FOLIO masterclass held by PH Museum and Witty Books and became adapted into a photobook.
Monty Kaplan is a photographer from Buenos Aires, Argentina. Through photography, Monty presents and questions complex relationships between the subject and surrounding objects, the tension between the objective scientific facts and personal interpretations of such. In this project, Monty explains, “The end result is a juxtaposition of the character’s inner turmoil with the metaphysical elements that his experiments produce.” We discuss the idea of time as the main motif present, Robert Creely’s poem and its effect on the development of the project, and the recent presentation of the photobook in the FOLIO masterclass. We close this conversation with a comparison of the methodology Monty formed in his previous work and his approach to The Measure.
‘I want the viewer to be left wondering: what was real, what was imagined, is there even a line that differentiates this anymore for this character. A visceral trip into madness.’
The Measure
The Measure emerges as a carefully crafted project that deliberately builds a connection between the conscious and the unconscious states, offering fragments - the anchor points to grab onto while the visual experience continues. What is the relationship you research between the subject, their mental state, and the objects that appear?
That’s a great question. The project tells a story of the scientist who has become consumed by his pursuit to experience time travel. He has a very pragmatic mind and is completely driven by the idea that the possibility to find a solution exists, which makes his story a tragic one, because even though he can’t give up looking for an answer, there isn’t one to find.
This encounter with an impossible limit, that the character is facing, is at the core of what we could call a 'problem' with time. One of the most thoughtful reflections I found on the subject, while doing my research, is by philosopher Hans Reichenbach, who in his book, The Direction of Time, questions our very way of looking for answers about what time is. He writes:
"What is time, if all we have of it is this Now, this one moment gliding with us through the current of events that flows from the unchangeable past to the unknowable future?
Questions of this kind reveal the highly emotional content associated with the experience of time. They tempt us to look for answers that satisfy emotions rather than clarify meanings.”
In this sense, I was interested in creating images that reflected the emotional weight that these questions bring to the character. I wanted the viewer to have an immersing experience of this melancholia. So we can see this character going through his experiments, and we can even glimpse inside his journal. But then there’s this whole other side of the material that takes us on this very oneiric form and defies any imposed explanation or structure that has this puzzling quality, almost vertigo-inducing. That, to me, was a way of accurately portraying not what time is, but what time means to us.
Once I had found a point of view, from which to tell this story in the form of this scientist character, it gave me the freedom to produce some images that were extremely abstract and experimental. Some of the shots we see of these strange artifacts and objects represent this breakdown of both time and space. The end result is a juxtaposition of the character’s inner turmoil with the metaphysical elements that his experiments produce. I want the viewer to be left wondering: what was real, what was imagined, is there even a line that differentiates this anymore for this character. A visceral trip into madness.
‘It was very ironic that after all the research period, I felt more lost and confused than before. What finally happened that helped me move forward with the series was this fictional story I created’
Robert Creeley
You chose to work with Rober Creepley’s poem of the same name. Creely is an American avant-garde poet, a part of the Black Mountain poets group, well known for the work with the form and the perception the poem constructs. In his poem The Measure, he emphasizes the state of being caught in-between, the inability to move, and the action of thinking. In the series, we are presented with complicated formulas and the dramatic juxtaposition between the thinking man and the figure resembling a golem (as part of the experiment). Could you elaborate on how the poem drove you to create the images and the emotions that surface?
I first came across Creeley’s poem early on, before the project even had a structure. I remember I was living in Berlin at the time, and I was spending these wayward days walking the streets doing nothing at all, sometimes spending the whole day sitting in a park staring at trees. The poem made a huge impression on me because I felt what he was talking about. I could experience myself as being trapped in time too. Unfortunately, my first attempts to adapt the poem visually didn’t work at all. It was so oneiric, so disconnected from any point of view, that it felt flat, superficial even. I think around six months after this initial period, I decided to start intense research on time, so it would work as a counterpoint to the ideas Creeley was writing about.
Reflecting on it now: it’s funny to realize how much of my own analytical brain came to play at that moment - that sudden need to find facts, to rationalize it. So it was very ironic that after all the research period, I felt more lost and confused than before. What finally happened that helped me move forward with the series was this fictional story I created, framing it all from a character’s perspective. It made everything feel relatable. When that piece of the puzzle fell through, the poem became an emotional backbone for the project. I kept going back to it all the time, but it wasn’t for structure but rather to remind myself how this character was feeling. The pictures became more cathartic, and most importantly, more narrative-driven, more purposeful. In the end, the series became about the clash between the thinking mind and the experiencing mind, which is what I think the poem is ultimately trying to convey.
‘While sequencing the book, my years as a film editor really helped me to imagine the pages as shots and cuts, assembling the story piece by piece.’
FOLIO, PHmuseum
Recently, you have presented the project in an online photobook masterclass FOLIO held by PHmuseum and Witty Books. You spoke about entropy, the concept of time, and eventually the failure of the subject to find answers. I loved how you discussed the structure of your research based on three main themes: the subject's POV, the Journal with scientific formulas, and the experiments, later moving to the development of the physical book, the dimensions, the cover, and the narrative. How did your love of cinematography and the chosen poem help you shape the story and create the book?
As I mentioned in the previous question, the key in the process of adapting the poem was ultimately the narrative that I built around it. So in this sense, my filmmaking background was crucial for the project. I was inspired by many films, but the biggest source of inspiration without a doubt was Chris Marker's short film, La Jetée, as well as the body-horror visuals from David Cronenberg's films, specifically his remake of The Fly, which also features a doomed scientist.
It’s important, I think, to note that for me, the project didn’t start as an idea for a book, but rather it became adapted into a book form. That’s why FOLIO was such an important part of the process. It helped me find a structure that, as you say, shaped the story in terms of how a book works. I compare the narrative device inside the book in terms of how a film experience is because there is this dramatic narrative crescendo that builds up and has an actual climax. While sequencing the book, my years as a film editor really helped me to imagine the pages as shots and cuts, assembling the story piece by piece.
‘I tried a million different things, and I worked with continuous lighting instead of flash. I was moving all around, coming closer, stepping back, with an assistant moving the light around as I was shooting.’
The Interview
In our last conversation with you about your project Nocturno, we discussed your approach to photography and creation, and you said that “A photo should be a spontaneous act that comes from instinct.” Working on The Measure, it seems you decided to test a new methodology. What was the main change that drove you to explore a new technique?
Interesting question! I actually don’t feel I’ve changed my work methodology that much, even though I completely understand what you mean by this. I think, in this case, there was a context, there was an idea I was very deliberately trying to tell, but the moment of taking the picture felt as spontaneous as ever to me. Be that working with the actor inside the studio or shooting on the street, I was never 'crafting' a shot, I was definitely looking for it. For example, on the day of the shoot with the actor, I tried a million different things, and I worked with continuous lighting instead of flash. I was moving all around, coming closer, stepping back, with an assistant moving the light around as I was shooting. It was mayhem. I think I shot around 25 rolls on that session alone. So the working environment was as chaotic as ever, even though the end goal was more defined this time.
Upcoming Projects
What’s the next thing we’ll see from you? What is the stage this project is in today?
I’m very excited about the future! The next thing for me is something completely new. I’ve recently started working together with an amazing Bolivian photographer, Marisol Mendez, and we’ve formed a photographic duo. We’ll soon start working on a big commission together that is documentary-oriented, so it will be a different exploration inside the photographic medium with a new partner.
On a personal level, I’m currently working on a series titled Magic Kingdom that examines the North-American mythos from an outsider's perspective. I also started to work as a DoP in a couple of narrative projects, so I am very happy to be coming back to filmmaking in a new position.
‘123’
123
123
