Painting directly onto motion picture film creates a most challenging cinematic experience. Unlike most other film techniques, it is somewhat more difficult to ascribe metaphorical meaning to the resulting perceptual phenomenon, which can range from synaptic analog to a surface patina that reflexively draws attention to an archaeology of the medium itself — carrying with it a whole range of nostalgic emotions not unlike those associated with the scratches seen on old newsreel footage, or the various indelible stains and marks remaining on antiquated or distressed motion picture relics.

In the 1960s I pioneered Abstract Expressionist painting directly onto the film surface, creating a new vocabulary of moving shape, color, and texture, as well as a good measure of chance operation. In the 1970s I added multiple stages of optical printing to my hand-painted film (Ommo), but have now returned to a simpler and more pragmatic approach without composing added speed variations.

I prefer a "steady pulse" (usually 15 fps) to let the mind's eye seek out the implied animate variations and movements generated from the painting itself — similar to polyrhythmic percussion music working around and within its steady main beats. Notice how sometimes the paintings seem to sway as if in a tropical breeze. Even though a metaphorical thread is not always intended, it is impossible for the mind to avoid creating narratives for what it thinks it is seeing. I believe it is natural to confront and enjoy painting without always the preliminary lecture and homework reading of critical essays.