Bas Jan Ader; Broken Fall (Organic) (1971)

Bas Jan Ader was a curious Dutch artist about who still relatively little is known, even by those who were close to him in his lifetime. He left behind a small body of unusual and gentle work before he disappeared at sea in 1975, aged 33, and only really gained any popularity 20 years or so after his death. His most famous body of work is probably in his 'falling' films; short film (or performance?) pieces that record the simple action of falling, in varying surrounding and situations. Of those, the film that I am most interested in is Broken Fall (Organic).

As they all are, this is a short film piece, about 2 minutes, and consists of Ader clinging to a high branch in a tree directly above a stream. You watch him struggle and kick, and swing his body as he tries desperately to hold on and keep himself strong and stable. But he gives up. A minute in, he stops struggling and allows himself to just succumb to gravity, and to his own weakness. You watch his joints loosen, and his body becomes long and fluid as he relaxes. And you wait for him to fall. It is a short film, but in those last 30 seconds you, as the viewer actually will him to fall, will him to end it. But he doesn't do that either. He doesn't struggle, but he doesn't let go, he just waits and accepts what is happening to him, passive.

As you watch you feel the sense of inevitability; the branch will break, or he will let go; the sense of hopelessness, and powerlessness against forces beyond your control. It's not exactly defeat, but you do feel something; his acceptance for what he can't fight, or won't fight; the predictability of everything if you just allow things to follow their natural course. In this quiet and quite introspective film- I think on Ader's part and also on the viewer's- you can physically see this man's exploration of the relationship between his body and its surroundings; with the place that it inhabits.

Of course, he eventually falls as we knew he would, and the film ends thus. There is no sound, no text apart from the short title at the beginning, nothing fancy about this film- just a single continuous shot of Ader. And that’s all you need to really take something from it- just being able to watch him as he subjects his body to this mistreatment. There is also nothing glamorous about this piece, or about his body or the way he moves. But there is certainly a melancholic elegance; a quiet thoughtfulness that continues on through his other falling pieces, and indeed throughout his work in general, and the feeling that it’s okay to be powerless, because that’s all we can be really.