An assemblage is a dynamic system of relations.
Assemblages can be machines, cultures, molecules, cities, websites or organisms, among a myriad of other examples. The word “assemblage” might mislead one into thinking that assemblages are fixed: something has been fastened together. However, the word can also refer to the process of assembly itself, and as we shall see, assemblages are in a constant state of change.
This specific use of the term comes from philosophy, in particular the work of Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari (1987) who develop the concept in their book Capitalism and Schizophrenia: A Thousand Plateaus. As Michael De Landa (2016) notes, Deleuze and Guattari (1987) deploy multiple, contradictory definitions of assemblage throughout their book, in keeping with their poststructuralist approach to philosophy.
For the purposes of this curatorial project, I want to focus on the dynamic and fluid nature of the assemblage which in turn allows for the generation of new modes of thinking and being. Using my knowledge as a film editor, I will apply assemblage theory to film through the work of Francesco Casetti (2016) in order to show how assemblage is a powerful term in thinking about cinema, not just in the assembling of audiovisual material, but in the dynamic between audiences, films and the greater socio-political body.
Fundamental to assemblage theory is the idea that individuals are not solely responsible for their actions but are instead embedded as nodes in a complex network of material and social relations: “assemblage refers to complex flows, connections and becomings that emerge and disperse relationally between bodies” (Kennedy et. al, 2013, p.46). Power goes both ways in an assemblage: anything can influence anything in its omnidirectional tapestry.
Thinking in this way encourages us to go beyond the subject and consider the organisational principles of an entire system of subjects. It asks us to think in terms of the whole, rather than a single perspective.
Due to this complicated dynamic of relation, assemblages are far from static and are in a constant state of rearrangement as all their parts negotiate themselves. Additionally, the introduction of a new element into an assemblage can cause the entire assemblage to completely transform itself - the arrival of the internet, for example, has caused the cultural practices of society to change significantly.
In his book, The Lumiere Galaxy, Francesco Casetti (2016) applies the notion of the assemblage to the cinema. While Casetti is more interested in thinking about the assemblage of spectatorship culture - the relationship between audiences, films, filmmakers and technology - film itself can also be thought of as an assemblage in its own right. I will draw on my experiences as an editor here.
Quite simply, film is an assemblage of shots, joined, paradoxically, by “cuts”. Indeed, the first draft of a film is often referred to as “the assembly”. This is when the film is at its most unstable, and resembles an assemblage at its most dynamic.
Film editor Walter Murch (2001, p. 49-50) talks about the way in which the shots seem to interact with each other during this period of the edit, seemingly independent of the editor: “as the scene is reworked and refined, it reaches a point, hopefully, where the shots themselves seem to create each other: this shot “makes” the next shot, which “makes” the next shot, etc.”. Just as in assemblage theory, the shots continually act on each other in a constant process of rearrangement and evolution.
Of course, at the end of the editing process, the film is locked and can no longer change. However, if we think about someone viewing the film once it has been finished, they experience the film as an assemblage of shots as well. Each new shot reframes the shots that came before it, building up a whole which is greater than the sum of its parts. This is not dissimilar to the Kuleshov effect whereby “cinematic meaning is a function of the ordering of shots” (Prince and Hensley, 1992, p. 59). A film constantly develops new meaning through the assemblage of images.
Casetti (2016) uses assemblage theory to argue that audience members have their own influence on cinematic culture. He introduces this idea in opposition to apparatus theory, which argues that the material conditions of the viewing experience —the screen, the projector, the audience—ideologically manipulate the spectator. Casetti argues that such theories neglect the influence of the audience in the interpretation and evolution of the cinematic experience.
Cinema, rather, is constantly influenced by its audience through the historically contingent relations of the assemblage it finds itself in. He instead argues that cinema’s greatest power has been in its ability to challenge its own structure, which he calls the “dispositive”. Each new film is a new element in the assemblage of cinema, which in turn influences the cinema as a whole:
“Cinema has always been a very flexible “machine,” open to innovation and attentive to its own equilibria. Its entire history is marked by the desire to challenge the dispositive, to introduce new variations, and to experiment with new possibilities” (Casetti, 2016, p.95).
Film, in its powerful malleability, can be utilised to represent and reframe assemblages in the real world, presenting alternative re-imaginings of the complicated systems we find ourselves wrapped up in.
References
Casetti, F. (2015). The Lumière galaxy: Seven key words for the cinema to come. Columbia University Press.
DeLanda, M. (2016). Assemblage theory. Edinburgh University Press.
Felix, G., & Guattari, D. (1987). A thousand plateaus: Capitalism and schizophrenia. Trans. by Massumi, B.)., University of Minnesota, Minneapolis.
Kennedy, Rosanne, Jonathon Zapasnik, Hannah McCann and Miranda Bruce. (2013). All Those Little Machines: Assemblage as Transformative Theory. Australian Humanities Review, 55, 45-66.
Murch, W. (2001). In the Blink of an Eye. Los Angeles: Silman-James Press.
Prince, S., & Hensley, W. E. (1992). The Kuleshov Effect: Recreating the Classic Experiment. Cinema Journal, 31(2), 59–75. https://doi.org/10.2307/1225144
I hope that this curation functions in the same way as an assemblage. That is, in bringing together these seemingly unrelated films, new insights can be gained from the relations that form between the films.
The website format is ideal for this, allowing you to move between the selected films in any order you wish. That being said, I have presented them in a particular order, placing films together which I think resonate strongly with one another.
In terms of the selection, I wanted to choose films which represented assemblages in some way, but also did something interesting with assemblage of the visual material as well. I feel that is true of most of the films, save for perhaps Modern Times (1935) and Frankenstein (1931) which I have selected for their allegorical relation to assemblage.
I also wanted to avoid having films that covered similar ground.
Man with a Movie Camera (1929) would have been perfect for the selection with its avant garde editing techniques which aim to represent the assemblages of modernity. However it is very similar in form and content to Berlin: Symphony of a Great City (1927) so I left it out.
Some other notable exclusions were The Gleaners and I (2000), Smorgasbord (1983), The Dressmaker (2015) and The General Line (1929).
These six films serve as an assemblage in and of themselves.
In bringing these quite disparate films into the same curatorial project, hopefully some unexpected connections and resonances have been sparked for the reader. There is a great joy in comparing films made almost a hundred years apart, in completely different styles and forms. It has certainly been a fruitful exercise for me.
This curation should appeal to a range of readers. Academic scholars interested in assemblage theory, in particular the way it relates to film, should find this to be an engaging project. Film editors will surely enjoy thinking about the way their craft can literally reassemble reality, creating new possibilities for their audiences in the process. Experimental filmmakers will certainly find inspiration from thinking about film in this way.
Curatorial projects like this have demonstrated to me that the more we play with film – the more we disassemble and reassemble cinema itself – the greater the potential for what cinema can be and do.