Arno Peeters aan het werk. Audiomontage.
Op het scherm kijkt Akbar Simonse aka Pictureman toe.
Uitleg: Tijdens de audiomontage van het hoorspel checken we zo nu en dan alvast hoe de geluiden gaan combineren met de filmpjes en foto’s uit de Media Me pool. Officiele beeldmontage doet Niels Dekker.
Nu het hoorspel bijna klaar is, wordt er gezocht naar een geschikte uitzendtijd en plaats.
Geschatte Previewdatum film: december 2010.
Wordt vervolgd.
We sat in quiet restaurant, near the Central Station in Amsterdam.
Coffee and sandwiches with chicken, bacon and mayonaise.
Very unhealthy but tasteful.
He’s on a diet.
After the photoshoot with Marco Habanero he stopped smoking, just like that.
He rides his bike now every day for two hours.
His doctor told him he had to make drastic changes in his eating, drinking and smoking habits, otherwise things could go bad.
I mean really bad.
That would have made Media Media interesting, he laughed. Very dramatic: A dead narrator.
Yes, I said, the project would become historically interesting immediately.
I prefer Pictureman alive, he said.
Me too, I said.
But it would be interesting, right?
Of course, I said.
We talked about accounts of dead people. Very weird. Digital cemeteries. What happens with your digital life when you’re dead? Does someone else takes it over?
We’re all creating our own personal paradise online. Who wants to live in hell? Todays uploads are tomorrows archives.
I needed more stories for the script, so we talked about his experiences on Flickr, his on and offline friends, religion, youth, concerns about the future, ideals, poetry, miracles and memories.
Everything you say can be used, I said.
I know, he said, you’re collecting material.
After our meeting I made a first rough sequence of the videoclips so far.
They are listed now in the category: Nine Scenes, 1 t/m 9.
New text fragments will appear under these clips.
Comments can be used.
Look closer.
Each photo tells a story.
First there were buildings.
I started taking pictures of buildings.
Then, after a while, I moved slowly from buildings to persons.
From stones to bodies.
From walls to skin.
I went inside.
Opened the doors.
Windows became eyes.
So, this is my town. My country.
This is where I live.
In persons.
Next week Akbar and I will meet in Amsterdam.
I need more information about him. Stories I can use.
Could he be the “owner” of the Media Me pool on Flickr, in the script?
The textdocument on my desktop is getting shape, in a chaotic way.
Chaos comes with the subject: The digital revolution.
Next to the voice of Pictureman there are two other voices talking.
I call them A and B.
They’re like commenters, sitting in an editroom, surrounded by lots of machines.
Sometimes I feel lonely.
But not when I’m behind my computer.
A picture can be company, you know.
Writing comments.
Being social.
Making connections.
I know them.
I’ve met them.
They know me.
So that’s it.
When I freez, I socialize.
I like documentaries.
And… the Simpsons.
But that’s personal.
I almost never look at movies.
I hate dramaseries and soaps, I don’t care.
I don’t understand.
Games and shows are not for me.
Don’t even talk about it.
I just don’t understand that kind of fun.
I never watch television on my computer.
I need a big screen.
My eyes are getting tired very often.
I’m a very tolerant person.
The only thing I hate are intolerant people.
It would be a nightmare for me, if my pictures would be used for something I can not identify with.
Identification is important.
I love my pictures.
I love people.
I love to learn.
But I hate manuals.
I never read them.
When I bought my camera, I read the first twenty pages.
Then I stopped.
I thought: when I need something, I’ll look it up.
When something goes wrong with my computer, I call someone to help me.
Technique has to be easy.
Technique should make me feel comfortable.
Most of the time it makes me feel stupid.
I don’t want to feel stupid.
It has to be simple.
Look at me.
Just an old man with a camera and a hat.
This is how I look, late at night.
This is me.
I never try to look like someone who isn’t me.
These are all parts of me.
Privacy doesn’t exist anymore nowadays.
Not in this society.
Don’t touch the internet, they say, for it will touch you.
But I don’t want to stay at home all the time.
Why should I?
The moment you walk the street, you lose part of your privacy.
There it starts.
I don’t care.
I have a mobile phone.
I call and sms.
That’s it.
Once I took a picture with my phone, but I don’t know where it is right now.
It’s gone.
I have my camera, so why should I take pictures with my phone?
Internet on my phone? I don’t think so.
I will become an old, maybe a bit worried man.
I’m not very enthousiastic about my own health.
My health bothers me.
Being alone bothers me.
How did it change me?
Did it change me?
It’s hard to say.
(Silence)
I have to think about that.
(Silence)
Well, I look things up.
If I want to know something, I look it up.
I’m in charge.
I read newspapers.
I watch the news.
But I never search for news on the internet.
I don’t have to know everything.
Most of the time it doesn’t interest me.
Maybe it will interest me in a few years.
I can wait.
I’m not in a hurry.
I don’t want to be informed about anything.
I just de-connect from information.
I’m glad I’m not a news addict.
I’m addicted to people.
I like comments.
Sometimes it becomes a story.
I upload a picture, give it a title, and people start to comment, just like that.
They start to interpret.
Sometimes they see things I didn’t see.
It makes me laugh.
Sometimes I love to be offline.
As if it is not there.
Time flies when you’re online.
I also love to stop.
A few days, a week.
And now something completely different.
I consider it a world.
Strange, yet common after a while.
It’s all about how quick you get used to certain habits.