In the article series Sound and Vision we take a look at music videos from notable directors. This week we look at Sigur Rós' Seraph, directed by Dash Shaw.
Dash Shaw made a huge impression with his two feature films, My Entire High School Sinking Into the Sea and Cryptozoo both of which feature the mixed-media collage techniques he has been well known for as an illustrator and comic book artist. Before those two films he made a handful of shorts, and a music video that also functions as more of a short than a true music video.
Shaw's Seraph was made for Sigur Rós' Valtari Film Experiment, which has featured in the Sound and Vision before, because Alma Ha'rel handled an installment in that compilation of twelve music videos. Seraph combines two songs, Rembihnútur and Ekki múkk, in one narrative. The director's statement on the website of Sigur Rós' isn't very helpful in giving any background to the video. It reads: "oooooooooooeeeeee... oooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooo!"
That cheeky humor is barely found in the music video, which luckily in contrast to the unhelpful director's commentary is pretty self-explanatory: in it, a young man feeling shame about his sexual or homoromantic feelings automutilates whenever he finds no place to put his conflicting feelings. The auto-mutilation takes on the form of a sort of stigmata, eyes carved into his legs and arms, that signify the impression a picture of a Seraph made on him. The biblically accurate angel, the seraph, hides the eyes on his body behind wings, because as the protagonist's father tells him: "it's hard to look at a love you can't understand".
Infusing homo-erotic shame with the biblical might hit home for people like me, who grew up gay in strict Christian households, but it also runs into something deeper about biblical notions of purity and godliness: what is the nature of shame, really? Is it that black-and-white as Christians make it out to be, or is there something god-like in revealing your true colors, looking love directly in the eye, in order to truly understand it? I think that is what Shaw is getting at in the final moments, where the protagonist selflessly sacrifices himself for love, only to turn into a Seraph, this time with wings opened, showing all his eyes and nakedness for the world to see. To really look at.
All of this is drawn in Shaw's easily recognizable style. Dark thick outlines of felt pencil, with painted backgrounds infused with collage techniques. Most stunning is a shot in which the background changes from blue to red, to blue to red, on the beat of the music. Not only does it show the changing lights of a police car alarm, with the protagonist and his object of affection in the back of the car. It also portrays the feeling of love at first sight, the background ever shifting in striking colors. The world is changing, while you yourself and your partner are centered and unchanging. Only you and him.
It is the sort of visual shorthand Shaw excels at, but that also is part and parcel for the shorts writer and co-producer, John Cameron Mitchell, who has also featured in a Sound and Vision before. According to the Sigur Rós website the two were working together on Shaw's first feature, a collaboration. That film never panned out, which is quite disappointing, because this first short by the two of them works to both their strengths: John Cameron Mitchell, when directing himself, can be a bit blunt in his symbolism. With the visual shorthand of Shaw interpreting that bluntness, it becomes less in-your-face and instead scans as more economical. Symbolic shorthand, if you will. It is a stunning short film and music video that is a stand-out in the already not too shabby Valtari Film Experience.