Walter Ruttman’s silent film Berlin, Symphony of a Great City (1927), opens with an extremely effective sequence of a 1920s modern day train making its way from the suburban outskirts of Berlin into the confines of the city. As Billy Stevenson commented in our most recent seminar, depictions of such modern machinery allowed the audience to experience the “thrills of urban life at a safe distance”. Indeed, Ruttman’s portrayal of the railway is a perfect example of this. It is these ideas of ‘experience’ and ‘escape’ that I intend to explore.
Ruttman uses a number of techniques to illustrate the power and speed of Berlin’s modern railway machinery. For example, his use of numerous low camera angles gives the train an imposing presence while the quick camera cuts are used to represent the impressive pace at which it is moving. As trees and telephone lines flash by, one can’t help but gain a slight increase in adrenalin. Here, it seems as though we actually are riding on the train. We are transported from our living room seats into the black and white world of 1927 Germany. Imagine how viewers at the time felt whilst watching these images. They would have been buzzing with excitement at the chance to experience such a muscular machine within the safe confines of their local cinema. To capture such shots, it seems as though Ruttman has attached a camera to the outside of the train, a very effective technique which was just gaining popularity throughout the 1910s and 1920s.
Much like the film’s later scenes involving modern day machinery, the train seems to actually come to life through Ruttman’s extensive use of close ups. Wheels churn, steam rises, and engine parts work rapidly as the rails flash by beneath the train. Gradually the editing becomes slower and we’re able to gain an insight to the surroundings of Berlin’s suburbs as the train propels itself closer to the city. We see industrial-minded suburbs, apartment buildings and even oncoming trains, giving the impression that such fine machinery was in abundance in Berlin at the time. Every shot here is a true reflection of Berlin’s 1927 “rural urban fringe” (Stevenson). The train slows on its approach to the platform and the screen is saturated in darkness with a lone sign reading: ‘Berlin’. We have reached our destination. Time to get off and explore the city.
What follows is a beautifully filmed portrayal of the city of Berlin and its inhabitants (both man and machinery alike). Ruttman captures the city with an extremely artistic style. Berlin slowly awakens and greets the working day. Berlin, Symphony of a Great City is a true homage to Germany’s capital. Being a city boy myself, I thoroughly enjoyed this urban, semi-documentary tale. I hope my next train trip along the north shore line into uni is just as exciting as the one I’ve just discussed.
For another brilliant depiction of a train ride, check out the genius video clip for ‘Star Guitar’ by the Chemical Brothers. Thanks for reading.
Ruttman uses a number of techniques to illustrate the power and speed of Berlin’s modern railway machinery. For example, his use of numerous low camera angles gives the train an imposing presence while the quick camera cuts are used to represent the impressive pace at which it is moving. As trees and telephone lines flash by, one can’t help but gain a slight increase in adrenalin. Here, it seems as though we actually are riding on the train. We are transported from our living room seats into the black and white world of 1927 Germany. Imagine how viewers at the time felt whilst watching these images. They would have been buzzing with excitement at the chance to experience such a muscular machine within the safe confines of their local cinema. To capture such shots, it seems as though Ruttman has attached a camera to the outside of the train, a very effective technique which was just gaining popularity throughout the 1910s and 1920s.
Much like the film’s later scenes involving modern day machinery, the train seems to actually come to life through Ruttman’s extensive use of close ups. Wheels churn, steam rises, and engine parts work rapidly as the rails flash by beneath the train. Gradually the editing becomes slower and we’re able to gain an insight to the surroundings of Berlin’s suburbs as the train propels itself closer to the city. We see industrial-minded suburbs, apartment buildings and even oncoming trains, giving the impression that such fine machinery was in abundance in Berlin at the time. Every shot here is a true reflection of Berlin’s 1927 “rural urban fringe” (Stevenson). The train slows on its approach to the platform and the screen is saturated in darkness with a lone sign reading: ‘Berlin’. We have reached our destination. Time to get off and explore the city.
What follows is a beautifully filmed portrayal of the city of Berlin and its inhabitants (both man and machinery alike). Ruttman captures the city with an extremely artistic style. Berlin slowly awakens and greets the working day. Berlin, Symphony of a Great City is a true homage to Germany’s capital. Being a city boy myself, I thoroughly enjoyed this urban, semi-documentary tale. I hope my next train trip along the north shore line into uni is just as exciting as the one I’ve just discussed.
For another brilliant depiction of a train ride, check out the genius video clip for ‘Star Guitar’ by the Chemical Brothers. Thanks for reading.
