Peopling the Plaza

Over two past weeks, weather permitting, I have been filming. I shot some nice footage of Cira Centre, the Delaware River, and Phoenix Rising. I also spent time at the Urban Archives at Temple University where I found some great photographs and news clippings. So far I am pleased with my footage. 

I tried making a film about Phoenix Rising two years ago. I insisted on shooting black-and-white photographs of the sculpture as opposed to color photographs or video because I felt then that the plaza and the sculpture were too filthy. I also insisted that no person be present in any photograph. I would stand in the sunken plaza waiting for passers-by to clear my frame. Other times I would reposition the camera so that a person would disappear behind the sculpture’s pedestal. One woman I simply Photoshopped out of the picture.

Part of me wants to apologize to that woman. I feel guilty for having removed her from my frame. A bigger part of me wants to ask her to walk by Phoenix Rising again because my film is completely different now. It is reliant on people – on the public.

The past few mornings have been incredible. Granted they have been cold, but that hasn’t bothered me entirely. I arrive at Dilworth Plaza by 8:15 and set up shop. I plop myself down on the steps just in front of the fountain. Two tripod legs on the lowest level and the back leg on the first step. If the light is decent, I leave the lens naked, no filters, and if something needs to be enhanced, I add one of my filters. Then I hit record and watch.

When a camera is static, unmoving, one has the tendency to overcompensate for the lack of dynamic filming. That is an enormous error. One begins zooming in and out, touching dials, adjusting exposure, swapping out filters, adjusting the frame. When you get home and look at your footage, nothing is useful. Shots are too short because you changed so many things so quickly. No shot lasts longer than 15 seconds. While I learned that lesson years ago, I am still unable to resist at times. My first day at Dilworth Plaza I changed the color temperature of the image, making it a bit more orange than I should I have. At the time, I thought the shot oozed style, now I see it oozes ooze – it oozes overkill.

Viewing my orange footage at home I realized just how perfect the people were.Where I thought I was documenting the sculpture, I was in fact recording beautiful movement in a public space.

I returned the following morning with clearer intentions. I left the color temperature alone. I set the frame, hit record, and observed. The people were amazing. I was mesmerized by their motion, their movement in front of the camera. I recognized some people from the previous morning. One woman I even recognized from two years ago when she walked through my frame. I still have the photo of her. Her backpack and short blond hair are burned into my brain. 

 

My fascination with Eadweard Muybridge came back to me all at once.  There I was watching people cross from one side of the frame to the other – a simple gesture – yet every person did it differently. They carried themselves in such a way that it became a true spectacle for me to watch. I found it impossible to focus on the sculpture. I forced myself look at the sculpture. I was the only one. No one looked at Phoenix Rising. One person walking past my camera looked back to see what I was filming. He seemed genuinely surprised to find a sculpture. I was hoping someone would ask me why I was filming the sculpture. I even hoped a cop would ask me if I had permission to film. Anything to stir up a conversation about Phoenix Rising. Not a word. 

The first morning, I noticed that Phoenix Rising dwarfs the people that walk by it. Since I had never filmed the sculpture with people before I had no sense of scale – no sense of proportion or size. The piece is massive. Looking at the news clippings I copied from Temple’s Urban Archives, I wonder whether the reports of the sculpture standing 28 feet tall are correct. Other clippings say it is 20 feet. Originally I estimated it was roughly 20 feet.  Now I am not certain. I measured out 28 feet in my apartment and thought that it seemed too big. But seeing it with people I question its height. It appears the Philadelphian nature of the work is making itself visible in text and image – the city of twos – 28 feet or 20 feet? I need to find my friend and ask her what she thinks.

There is another option. I can ask the men who soar well above 28ft. I imagine they have a good sense of height.