Nostalgia (1983)

The Soviet Russian filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky once said: “In a word, the image is not a certain meaning, expressed by the director, but an entire world reflected as in a drop of water” (1987, p.110).

Tarkovsky’s films paint landscapes of imagination, where spaces, matter, light and time produce an evocative response. His films enlighten our perception of lived space and as Pallasmaa states “as if it had never been exposed to the human eye before” (Pallasmaa, 2001, p.67). His films, particularly Nostalghia (1983) and Stalker (1979), were developed from his own personal experience of the world, which translates into a poetic cinematic experience.

In Nostalghia, a Russian writer, Andrei Gorchakov travels to Italy to research the life of an 18th century Russian composer. He longs to return to Russia, dreaming and imagining his home in beautiful settings. Several shots in Nostalghia have become famous for their poetic visual quality, and like many of his films, Tarkovsky repeatedly uses images of water, fire, earth, wind, fog, trees, candles and hair to signify mythology and religious connotations (Pallasmaa, 2001, p.70) .

Tarkovsky’s poetic landscapes are often products of human experiences of reality, recollection and dreams. In Pallasmaa’s words, Tarkovsky creates “interacting clusters of poetic images which constitute an invisible rhizome of feeling and association” (2001, p.68).

In one memorable scene, Gorchakov tries to cross a drained outdoor pool whilst carrying a candle. This shot lasts for eight minutes and forty five seconds, following the character steadily as he creeps along the pool. At the end of the scene, he reaches the other side of the pool and places the candle on rubble, before collapsing (he presumably dies). Tarkovksy’s setting is poignant in capturing the stillness and melancholy of its surroundings, leading up to Gorchakov’slast moments of life.

Tarkovsky’s setting in this scene activates our senses. Firstly, we watch the candle flame flicker in the light wind for a long period of time. The image is hypnotic, and sends us into a light reverie. Our skin and muscles relax as the image of the candle is soothing and meditating. Our hearing becomes more sensitive, trying to pick out the light sound of the breeze and Gorchakov’s heavy breathing. We are drawn into this place so much we start to imagine we are there holding the candle ourselves. We can even start to imagine what the odours are in the atmosphere.

Tarkovsky’s settings also consider the importance of the natural elements, in representing Gorchakov’s melancholy. The air is made visible to the eye through the mist and fog, similarly seen in Akira Kurosawa's Throne of Blood (1957). Water penetrates the buildings and shimmers in the natural sunlight. The bricks of the walls are covered in moss and are crumbling away, becoming part of the wild earthy landscape. The end result is meditative and hypnotic. It is as if we are in a Japanese wood-cut of a foggy mountain scene; reminiscent also of the beautiful opening landscape in Werner Hertzog's Aguirre, Wrath of God (1972).

Architectural ruins become the key spaces in Tarkovsky’s films. Although they are buildings that have lost their function, they are “instruments to measure time” (Pallasmaa, 2001, p.79). They reveal the vulnerability and honesty of structures, and the viewer invests time in their feeling and empathy towards a ‘naked’ structure. A ruin is a skeleton of memory, a melancholic presence which symbolises its transition over time. A ruined building awakens our imagination and unconsciousness, stimulating images of the past. It reminds us that buildings are mortal. It also reminds us of our own mortality. The final image of Nostalghia shows Gorchakov’s dream setting: his house in Russia within Cathedral ruins.