Guthrie Lonergan created two videos composed solely of the a cappella vocal tracks of famous pop songs mashed-up with appropriated stock footage clips.
Both of these videos are titled Acapella.
In the first video, one views, to start, stock footage with burnt-in time code depicting an hourglass spinning on a pedestal in front of a blue background, which is itself probably designed to be used as a generic “bluescreen” in video postproduction.
The blue background in the clip, though, is creased and wrinkly which would make it difficult to use for a seamless bluescreen effect.
Also, the lighting is generally harsh, casting an entire half of the blue background in darkness, again defeating the point of bluescreen as an even, unchanging field of blue which can be easily keyed out in a single gesture in post-production.
Each of these qualities give one the impression that this is an amateur production, perhaps a single person hoping to sell cut-rate stock footage from their bedroom.
Following this introductory shot, the soundtrack opens with an a cappella rendering of the Police song “Message in a Bottle” as the view on the hourglass itself zooms in, focusing closer and closer on the sand dripping from the top of the hourglass to the bottom.
The viewer watches these sands of time drip away as Sting sings:
Just a castaway, an island at sea, oh
Another lonely day, with no here but me, oh
More loneliness than any man could bear
Rescue me before I fall into despair, oh*****
It should be noted that as an a cappella version of “Message in a Bottle,” these lyrics become simultaneously more isolated and more rawly emotional than they would come across in the original song; and, furthermore, despite the seeming incongruity of the hourglass imagery and this raw vocal track, they begin to quickly make some sort of emotional sense together as they’re each sparsely produced and they each reference a certain threat of being alone in the world.
As the song continues, this hourglass imagery dissolves to a shot depicting a man (whose slicked back hairdo is visible in the bottom of the shot, incidentally) holding his hands above his head, demonstrating the idea of “growth” by placing his palms close together and, then, spreading them far apart over and over again.
At this point, the chorus of the song kicks in:
I’ll send an S.O.S. to the world
I’ll send an S.O.S. to the world
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my
I hope that someone gets my message in a bottle, yeah…*****
When the man’s hand motions are juxtaposed with these lyrics, the viewer can, then, almost read them as themselves an “S.O.S.” – a ritualistic signal to a distant viewer, asking to be saved (or at least acknowledged).
This becomes poignant when one considers that – again – this particular stock footage is amateurish and naïve – one more drop of water in the ocean of non-professional or semi-professional user content on the Web, one more person expressing themselves in an environment of endless amounts of other personal expressions.
This is the problem of trying to express oneself in what Lonergan has termed “The Big Database” in which even what would otherwise be “amazing” content is flattened out; expressions (any expression – the videographer’s, Lonergan’s, my own) are consumed and, then, almost instantaneously forgotten.
As such, anyone trying to get their ideas heard in Internet-land is a sort of castaway.
Related to this point, Sting sings:
Walked out this morning, don’t believe what I saw
Hundred billion bottles washed up on the shore
Seems I’m not alone in being alone*****
What work like this video by Lonergan does, though, is start from the idea that everyone working on the Web is sending out their own S.O.S. and, by self-reflexively picturing that, a different lens and set of criteria for thinking about work in The Big Database might open up.
In Lonergan’s words:
[…] Something very real struggling beneath a heavy and ancient structure of corporate software defaults and cultural banality…