A still point in a turning world: Barbara Hammer… | Little White Lies

Queer Cinema

A still point in a turn­ing world: Bar­bara Ham­mer on her 50-year legacy

04 Oct 2017

Words by Sean L Malin

A black and white image showing a person looking through the viewfinder of a large camera, surrounded by other people.
A black and white image showing a person looking through the viewfinder of a large camera, surrounded by other people.
The queer film icon reflects on her pio­neer­ing career ahead of a new ret­ro­spec­tive of her work.

Bar­bara Ham­mer has been an active/​activated pres­ence in Amer­i­can cin­e­ma for half a cen­tu­ry. Long con­sid­ered a ground­break­er among the avant-garde for her abil­i­ty to col­lapse and recon­struct con­cepts of human sex­u­al expe­ri­ence through an organ­i­cal­ly queer gaze, Hammer’s film work is the sub­ject of a five-piece pro­gramme at the 55th New York Film Festival.

Each project, includ­ing Women I Love, her mas­ter­piece of diary and super­im­po­si­tion, No No Nooky TV, a bawdy com­put­erised bonan­za with a War Games aes­thet­ic, and the uproar­i­ous Audi­ence, a meta­tex­u­al black-and-white exer­cise in self-exam­i­na­tion, has been new­ly restored in time for the event. The film­mak­er will attend and par­tic­i­pate in a dis­cus­sion on 9 Octo­berHere Ham­mer tells the sto­ry of her remark­able career jour­ney in her own words.

I want­ed to put a les­bian life on screen in the 20th cen­tu­ry, and then mov­ing into the 21st. That was always my goal when I began, which was when I was about 30 years old. I start­ed mak­ing films on Super-8mm film at 27, three years before I start­ed on 16mm. I want­ed to make a state­ment. I want­ed to fill a void.

I lived in San Fran­cis­co and Berke­ley for all of the 70s. Fac­ul­ty and stu­dents at San Fran­cis­co State Uni­ver­si­ty were not out when I was there, and I was scared when I made Dyke­tac­tics about what the recep­tion would be. It was a sur­prise to find my teach­ers con­grat­u­lat­ing me. Then by the nineties , I was sud­den­ly the Moth­er of Les­bian Exper­i­men­tal Film’. Then I was sud­den­ly the Grand­moth­er of Les­bian Exper­i­men­tal Film’! Then I was get­ting an award just for being around awhile and mak­ing a lot of work.

Recog­ni­tion accu­mu­lat­ed grad­u­al­ly until peo­ple said, You’re an icon’. It’s all been a delight­ful jour­ney; I glad­ly take on that man­tle. But I’m still a stu­dio artist! I’m sit­ting here alone, work­ing in my studio.”

Close-up of a smiling human face partially obscured by shadows.

The incep­tion for this whole pro­gram comes from the Acad­e­my of Motion Pic­ture [Arts and Sci­ences] in Hol­ly­wood, where the won­der­ful film preser­va­tion­ist Mark Toscano is pre­serv­ing the films that are going to be shown on 9 Octo­ber. For the most part they have not been screened since the 70s.

There is also a more recent film, Still Point, from 1988. That film isn’t avail­able on DVD. It’s only been on 16mm and a very poor dig­i­tal trans­fer. It’s a four-screen film. It’s about visu­al lan­guage. It’s also about a mid­dle-class les­bian cou­ple, the woman I’ve been with for 29 years, Flor­rie Burke, and myself, liv­ing in a class-based soci­ety with home­less­ness and poverty.

Today, it would be about how to have our divid­ed par­ties be in dia­logue. Back then it was, What does it mean to be a same-sex cou­ple in a world of dis­par­i­ty?’ How do we mix it up, how do we spin it, how do we turn it? As most of my films do – or I hope they do – Still Point pos­es a ques­tion for the audi­ence to par­tic­i­pate in. The still point of the turn­ing world… There the dance is.’ TS Eliot.

I just showed Wel­come to This House at UMBC in Bal­ti­more, and peo­ple were relieved! They are so hap­py to see some­thing that was made pre‑T’, you might say. They are fear­ful of slid­ing back to the days of the fifties, when you didn’t want to be known for your sex­u­al iden­ti­ty or pref­er­ence. We’re not going back­wards. We’re just not.”

Close-up of an eye with distorted, blurred features in dark blues and yellows.

It is a very sad time – our igno­rance is becom­ing our death. With the lack of atten­tion to cli­mate change and the hor­ren­dous results of mul­ti­ple hur­ri­canes, storms have been wip­ing out the poor islands of our neigh­bours and our rel­a­tives. It is a very depress­ing time when peo­ple can’t choose their own bath­rooms, and bath­rooms aren’t avail­able to every­one in every cor­ner of the world.

It’s a hor­ri­ble time when male lead­ers of the coun­try and oth­er nation­al lead­ers are not doing every­thing pos­si­ble to bring an end to nuclear war. Why do we allow nation­al­ism in a time of glob­al­ism? Yes, I’m very con­cerned. Do I know what to do?

All we can do is what we do best, and we are doing the best we can. There is a lot of pos­i­tive ener­gy from peo­ple like Ira Sachs, who start­ed the Queer/​Art organ­i­sa­tion, Joey Car­duc­ci, who moved from les­bian cin­e­ma to trans cin­e­ma, and who comes out in the cin­e­ma, and inter­na­tion­al­ly, with the growth and pro­lif­er­a­tion of queer film fes­ti­vals.

What I can do is make a film, show it to my audi­ence, and engage with them. I can con­tin­ue to think and to feel every day with every­thing I read and I see. And, I can resist.”

Image cred­its: (top) Audi­ence, 1983 – dir Bar­bara Ham­mer, (mid­dle) Women I Love, 1976 – dir. Bar­bara Ham­mer, (bot­ton) Psy­chosyn­the­sis, 1975 – dir Bar­bara Hammer.

Bar­bara Ham­mer: Evi­den­tiary Bod­ies a mul­ti­me­dia ret­ro­spec­tive exhi­bi­tion, opens at the Leslie-Lohman Muse­um of Gay and Les­bian Art on 7 Octo­ber, 2017.

From 22 Octo­ber to 26 Novem­ber, Com­pa­ny Gallery of New York presents a col­lec­tion of Bar­bara Hammer’s pho­tographs from the 1970s.

You might like