Rhythmus 21

A kind of perpetual monochromatic Mondrian-in-motion. Seen with Sue Harshe's appropriately stark modern score; although the inevitable question is posed of whether the meaning changes with the interpolation of seemingly unconnected audio. Given it's an abstraction, perhaps less so.

This 3-minute "Avant-Garde" short is perhaps the single most inconsequential of the lot. Originally named RHYTHMUS 21 and the seventh of its ilk I had watched in one afternoon (with another to follow, capped by a feature-length film in the same vein!), I jokingly began to refer to it as "Litmus Test"!!

What we get here, basically, is a succession of shapes (rectangles, to be exact), photographed in a way that they move about and 'through' the screen, their zooming in and out suggesting the depth of the frame. One can only surmise that the original intention was to experiment (literally, play around) with the medium…and, if anything (as with a number of these efforts, in fact), a lot depends on the soundtrack chosen to accompany the visuals. In the end, it is safe to assume that I spent more time writing about the movie than actually experiencing it!!

A lot of misleading facts, most of them spread by Richter himself are surrounding this film as well as the subsequent Rhythmus 23. I've tried to sort them out: The first public screening was held on July 6th 1923 in France. The opening title 'Un film de Hans Richter' which still can be seen on surviving prints may have been for years the only title the film had. The first public screening held in Germany occurred on May 10th 1925. This time it's been called 'Film ist Rhythmus', but probably only in Ads. By then the film was roughly two minutes long. Over the next two years Richter must have worked on the film and extended it to almost seven minutes. Eventually before October 16th 1927 when the film(s) was(were) screened at the Film Society in London, he must have split it up and later on called it Rhythmus 21 and Rhythmus 23. By calling them Rhythmus 21 respectively 23 he apparently insinuated 21 meaning 'made in 1921'.He thereby tried to predate Walther Ruttmann who on April 27th 1921 screened the first 'absolut' film.

Hans Richter's 'Rhythmus 21 (1921)' has modest enough aspirations, and I suppose it's fair to say that it fulfills them adequately. As far as "geometric shapes increasing and decreasing in size" cinema goes, this is a vaguely interesting short film that takes a simple concept and does simple things with it. Though ostensibly exploring rhythm through geometry, 'Rhythmus 21' is more interesting in terms of illusory three-dimensional depth, with each shape's status as a foreground or background object seemingly changing as its actual size changes. Though I can't recommend this avant-garde short as being especially inspiring or insightful, the aesthetically-pleasing visuals make for a worthwhile enough three minutes.

'Rhythmus 21' is also quite different from the three other works I've thus far seen from Hans Richter. 'Ghosts Before Breakfast (1928),' 'Inflation (1928)' and 'Race Symphony (1928)' were live-action short films that put the technique of Soviet montage to good use, and nobody can deny that Richter had a superb eye for editing. The abstract animation of this effort is not technically notable, but nonetheless signalled the arrival of a new wave of avant-garde film-making in the 1920s. Richter would soon be joined by the likes of Man Ray, Walter Ruttmann and Viking Eggeling {in fact, Ruttmann probably got there first with 'Opus I (1921)'}. I wonder what 'Rhythmus 23 (1923)' has in store for me!

White boxes moving to the sides, like opening doors to a lift (or is it a black line which gets thicker, until it occupies the full frame?) opens this Dada short film, where the movements of white squares and white rectangles against a deep black background takes up two thirds of its brief run time. Then comes the final minute, when another white square enlarges to fill the frame completely, and black squares and various black geometrical shapes dance against a plain white square, all in complete silence, with absolutely no music score to accompany it.

Hypnotic, yet pointless, also meditative; it is calming to me to watch Richter's experimental work, and see the first time movement was even implied on film.