دانلود کتاب ناگهان چیزی جرقه زد – زبان‌های تدوین فیلم و طراحی صدا

In late June of 1896 the Lumière brothers brought their cinématographe and reels of moving photographs to Nizhny Novgorod, 400 km east of Moscow. The city’s only available venue was Aumont’s café, an elegant brothel run by the French–Algerian impresario Charles Solomon. A bedsheet was strung up at one end of the central salon and the cinématographe installed at the other, while Nizhny’s great and good (and notso- great and not-so-good) crowded together to experience something they had never seen before: moving photography, projected onto a bedsheet in a brothel. Maxim Gorky, then a twenty-eight-year-old reporter (later to become the novelist for whom the city of Nizhny would be renamed), was in the audience taking notes. The cinématographe ’s lamp ignited and a still image illuminated the sheet: ‘A street scene in Paris,’ Gorky wrote. He was not impressed: ‘I had seen this many times before.’ But then the image fluttered into life: people, horses, carriages going about their end-of-the-nineteenth-century business. Despite the fact that he was seeing a photograph move for the first time, Gorky remained unimpressed: ‘This is not life but its shadow, it is not motion but its soundless spectre.’ In his article, published a few days later, Gorky would describe the experience as ‘A Kingdom of Shadows: before your eyes, life is surging, but it is a life deprived of words and shorn of the living spectrum of colours – a grey, soundless, bleak and dismal life.’ Gorky’s remarkable recoil from the miracle of moving photography was an early case of the uncanny valley : that queasy feeling inspired by an image that closely simulates reality but doesn’t go quite far enough, as if the image were, zombie-like, alive and dead at the same time.