| Night One: Honorary Award for early technical Advancement. |
| On this first night of the 1920 Cinema Olympics, we will be handing out our first medal for an individual whose scientific know-how helped make the whole thing possible. This is a tricky area, because the question is, how far back do you go? In Asia, shadow puppets cast against a light source to create a projected moving image had been used for the purpose of entertainment and ceremonies for centuries prior to the first Lumiere shows. Do we go that far back? If so, whom do we give the award to? Decisions must be made. My decision is to honor individuals who made significant advances after the advent of photography in making the photographed image move (motion pictures) and then allowing it to be projected onto a screen for mass consumption, while fully acknowledging that these individuals did not exist in a vacuum and were building upon a rich inventive tradition. (And rest assured, this honoree is not the only pioneer that will be honored, simply the first. Many people, from nations around the world made significant contributions and will be getting their just due in the days to come.) |
| The First Honorary Medal for Technical Achievement Goes to: Eadweard Muybridge (United States): Born Edward James Muggeridge in 1830, this vain English- born inventor, rascal and showman changed his name to Eadweard in imitation of Anglo-Saxon kings because it sounded more grand and sophisticated. (Oh brother!) As is often the case, Muybridge's major technological breakthrough came as the result of the whim of a rich benefactor. Wealthy San Francisco businessman, railroad tycoon and former Governor of California Leland Stanford had become obsessed with the question: When a horse hits full stride, how many hooves are off the ground? He was absolutely convinced that at certain moments all four of its feet were air born and was prepared to put up major cash to back up his opinion against that of fellow fat cat, rival millionaire Fred McCrellish. In 1872, Stanford commissioned Muybridge, a photographer, to attempt to capture one of his trotting horses in motion, and the result turned into an essential step in the development of motion pictures. For these early attempts, Muybridge arranged 24 still cameras in a row along a track. He attached the shutter mechanism of each camera to a trip wire, which was set across the track so the galloping horse would trigger each shutter as it passed, thus obtaining a photographic record of each stage of motion. (For those who are interested, Stanford was proven to be correct, thus winning his bet.) From there we find an apparent gap in this rascally fellows career. In 1874, Muybridge shot and killed a charming rogue named Harry Larkyns, who had apparently seduced old Ed's wife. Although he was acquitted by a sympathetic, all-male jury on an extremely dubious insanity defense, he fled to Panama to escape the media glare and there continued to refine his photographic technique, retuning in 1877, to continue work for his sugar daddy, Leland Stanford. Muybridge, a showman who knew an opportunity when he saw it, barnstormed the United States and abroad from 1880 on, lecturing and projecting his pictures through a device he called the Zoopraxiscope (where the hell do they come up with these names?) a device that with rotating disks, was a forerunner to modern motion picture projector. In addition to animals, Muybridge turned his attentions to human subjects. He seemed to show a particular interest in capturing through photography the range of motion of naked women. This is where your Scholarly Olympic Chairman's familiarity with Muybridge's work begins. (Hey, don't blame me, that's all that was available on the tape I watched for research! Besides, galloping horses get pretty old after awhile.) To provide a brief critical analysis of these early attempts at motion pictures, they all seem to be aptly titled and consistent in theme. For example, Woman Picking Up Child features a naked woman picking up a child, while Woman Throwing Baseball has a naked woman throwing a baseball. Meanwhile, Woman Turning and Walking Upstairs features...well, you get the idea. (Completists will be happy to note that there is a follow-up, Woman Walking Downstairs, an early example of the sequel.) Those preferring a bit of action might be more partial to Woman Jumping From Rock to Rock or your Vigorous Chairman's personal favorite, Woman Hopping On One Foot. (These certainly require a more strenuous performance from their star then say, Woman Sitting Down.) While fans of motion pictures owe Muybridge a debt for pioneering the art of capturing motion through photography, fans of gratuitous nudity can point to him as an early champion for their cause as well because, let's face it, that woman could have probably just as easily picked up that child or thrown that ball with clothes on. Were Muybridge's efforts movies in the strict sense of the word? No, but the Zoopraxiscope he used on his tours was an early form of the film projector. Was he alone in working to capture motion through pictures? Absolutely not. There were many others around the world making similar efforts, and there had been for some time. Why then does he get an Olympic medal? Because, for many, he provided the link between still photography and the movies. Granted, he had the benefit of absolute obsession, a huge ego, a grand sense of self-promotion and sponsors with deep pockets. Be that as it may, more than any of his contemporaries, he was the one who got his efforts into the public eye and provided inspiration for many of the leaders in the rapid explosion of motion picture technology at the end of the 19th Century. (He was a big influence on a fellow by the name of Thomas Edison.) Eadweard Muybridge combined major technical advancement, ingenuity, grandiose promotion and a touch of scandal in a way that in retrospect, seems to perfectly mirror the motion picture industry he helped inspire. Perhaps more than any other reason, that's why he gets this medal. Note: The Brits may cry foul, because he was born in London and never officially became a U.S. citizen, but almost all of Muybridge's pioneering work was done in the United States and financed through U.S. money. After much heated debate amongst Olympic Committee members (well, I guess that should be member, but I promise I debated myself long and hard) it has been decided that this medal will go to the United States, giving that country the very first Cinema Olympics medal and an early 1 to 0 lead on the competition (for those who are scoring at home.) Mr. Muybridge passed away in 1904. His medal will be available to his estate. |