Shiva Ree

First shown on January 30, 1967, FOR LIFE AGAINST THE WAR was an open-call, collective statement from American independent filmmakers disparate in style and sensibility but united by their opposition to the Vietnam War. Part of the protest festival Week of the Angry Arts, the epic compilation film incorporated minute-long segments which were sent from many corners of the country, spliced together and projected. The original presentation of the works was more of an open forum with no curation or selection, and in 2000 Anthology Film Archives preserved a print featuring around 40 films from over 60 submissions.

"I feel that some of the silent pieces might be seen as visual music. Perhaps a bit pretentious to say that, but such pieces as ISOLATION are something of the sort. This is a film that every time I see it I want to re-edit it, just for fun. Its like a jazz improv, and could be different during the next set – the rhythms, the pauses, perhaps with longer passages and variations in visual tonality, theme and variation, recapitulations – all sorts of musical terms might be applied. There is no real narrative development here. The film suggests that a boy in a rowboat sees glimpses of the world around him. The boy whose image you see is our son, Darmon, and long ago I was a similar boy as well." –Abbott Meader

"The film stars Bone, originally named Basil Catbone, a creature who survived several life threatening events to die at the age of 17. He was one of my mentors and a cherished friend. When this film was shown in Europe many years ago, someone called him the 'Charles Bronson of cats'. Dogs feared him, but with humans he was gentle. [...] A little girl awaits a school bus. A spider awaits its prey. Through it all, Bone, a feline Zen master, walks stolidly ahead, implying, perhaps, that there might be a means to resolve this, and we see him choose to balance himself and move on down the line, walking the path of the middle way." –Abbott Meader

"A black one-eyed cat -does he dream of summer and having two eyes? A faceless snowman thrives in winter's starkness. There is frost and winter light. A glass light-catcher radiates color. Passing trains. Flame and smoke rise from a barrel. Fragments of music. Somewhere someone is picking out phrases from Randall Thompson's 'Alleluia'. A lot goes on, but not much happens. It is winter. Finally the snowman announces the coming of spring, and the piano plays its closing chords." —Abbott Meader

Collective manifesto by the members of C.C.I. It is a collective film, the result of an operation devoid of any aesthetic purpose: to verify the existence of any harmony between a fairly large group (twelve people) of members of the independent Cooperative. Someone, who had the idea, turned 60 meters of Ektachrome according to the moods –or discontent – of the moment and gave them to others to see. The others reacted, each with their own piece. It was then thought to call the film “circular letter”. It was not so simple and so quick: the operation, which started in June of ’68, ended in March of ’69.

South Slope: What Love Tells Me is a 16mm film made in 1978-1980 by the artist Abbott Meader. It is a dramatic portrait of a piece of land in Maine as seen through the seasons filmed over a period of two years. It is both a documentary and a film poem structured to respond to the 6th Movement of Gustav Mahler's 3rd Symphony as performed by the Portland (Maine) Symphony Orchestra, which kindly donated the performance recording for use in this film. Mahler's subtitle for the 6th Movement is "What Love Tells Me."

"The title of the film is that of the great 40 voice part motet by Thomas Tallis, (1505 -1585) which he composed around 1575, rather recently in geological time. The imagery is a personal response to the music, which soars in its entirety over the duration of the film. The opening line of the motet, translated from Latin, reads as 'I have never put my hope in any other than thee'. Each person will have a unique personal conception of 'Thee', and so it is in life - this mysterious gift that we say we are living - this unrequested gift, this task and calling that we may either accept, avoid, or reject." —Abbott Meader

American Odyssey is a look at Orff-Schulwerk in America in 1979. Filmed in 17 schools in 7 states, it documents the creative process in music, movement, dance, theater, and the spoken word, involving students and teachers from kindergarten through community chorus and orchestra. Running throughout are the poem "Sky Dwellers" by Marcia Lunz and the poetic camerawork of Abbott Meader.

"THE ELMS was my first sound film, in 1964, made after the assassination of JFK. I hoped that the title might bring to mind the American Elm tree, which was seen to be doomed by way of disease. The assassination of Kennedy in 1963 was a tremendously emotional blow and omen of things to come. The whole country watched the funeral ceremonies play out on TV, and I taped everything I could of those events – music, words, prayers, the killing of Lee Harvey Oswald , and more. I needed to make a film that would incorporate some of those sounds, but I also wanted to introduce other components. Some people assumed I was making an homage to JFK. That is not the case. I think it should be clear that what I was concerned about was the evolving state of our nation." –Abbott Meader

"Snake Dance was shown in United States Embassies in Africa in the late 1970s and early 1980s to show the American culture was not all Jim Crow and race riots. Arthur Hall came to Maine as a movement specialist for the National Endowment for the Arts, and the Maine Arts Commission was so impressed they called in filmmakers. We looked in on a Wednesday and filmed all day the next Friday, using all the film we had - color and both negative and reversal black and white." —Bruce Williams

"This short film documents a day in our backyard while also standing in as a mini- creation myth. The film begins with word fragments written on the leader. There is sound, and the leader then lets there be light. Soon animal life appears on the earth, followed by people – and at some point, civilization and culture appear by way of a cast off TV set. Life continues as other events occur, and Time continually presses onward toward night. Throughout the film, we hear cryptic voices whose messages are unclear, and, as darkness descends and the TV set dominates, one voice from the ether constantly repeats a phrase. The sound is blurry, and as with a Rorschach test image, you will make of it what your inner life hears. I, of course, know exactly what the voice says, because I am the creator. But you will believe your own ears. (Spoiler alert. It’s in English). That’s the way of the world, and there’s no way out of it as far as I know." –Abbott Meader

"Glimpses into a day in the life of three children. The three are busy with their lives. We see them, but what are they thinking? My camera screws up, but the effect seems appropriate and so I use the footage anyway. Birds are also busy with their own lives out there. Everybody is eating something. What kind of thinking do birds do? Oh, there’s a cat!. And a squirrel shows up. What a busy day! And soon it will be time for bed. Must not forget to brush your teeth." –Abbott Meader

"Nancy and I were aware that our daughter Jennifer was getting ready to walk. She'd push her stroller around with great determination, and so I did some 'home movie' filming to document her efforts. On impulse, I also shot some images of Nancy, along with bits of our living surround, and built a curious little B&W film comprised of both 'positive' and 'negative' images. Something about worlds of the adults and the infant as different. Maybe that. Got it printed. Decided it needed more. Shot some color footage. Re-edited. This went on and off for a few years. Moments and moments of it. Finally I decided it had some cohesiveness. You might agree, or not. And Jennifer now teaches third graders and has two kids in college. Oohblah -di - Oohbla- dah!" —Abbott Meader

"The film may suggest the fear of losing a loved one. Desire. Yearning. Anger. Doubt. A female nude. A reiterated breast. A child with a bicycle. The dead stump of a great tree. A blood- red sundown sky. A stick washed back and forth by the sea. And also, near the ending, an old 'Rhythm and Blues' song in which the male voice sings of his fear that he may lose his beloved. He finally closes with 'I wonder …if we’ll ever be…married…..I sometimes wonder…if you still love me?…. or if you’ve let me go?'. I use multiples of several shots. Perhaps it gives a feeling that life is both always the same and yet never the same? I superimpose different material over those shots each time, so that the actual imagery and their impact are always different. It challenges, perhaps, the well known French observation that 'Plus ca change, plus c’est la meme chose'." –Abbott Meader

"This dates from 1972 and 73. Frustration and anger in the nation and the world. Nothing new about that. The eternal return, and yet a reality unknown to a child. I have featured children in many of my films and the 'Loss of Innocence' theme is often present or implied. The film involves sound that goes both forward and backward, images of American football violence, a lot of scraps going around and around to nowhere. There is also a child, (our daughter Rebekah) and a tricycle. Each viewer will have a unique response. Eye of the beholder." –Abbott Meader

"A fence to contend with winter storms. Auld Lang Syne. Memories of green. 'Benigne fac, Domine, in bona voluntate'. The organ at Fenway park on Yaz' last day. Saturn, bringer of old age, and a meditation on that long, unrelenting road and enduring the weight of the journey." —Abbott Meader