We interviewed Brandon J. Barnard in our publication “Abstracted” surrounding the concept of abstract. Visit the publication here.
Can you tell us more about your PhD research? What inspired you to focus on “chance,” and how do you define this concept in the context of film and video?
I’ve always felt like chance was a very powerful force, personally. I often think about the most important aspects of my life (where I am, who I’ve met, and who I’ve become) and how tangential it is. Often, the most important decisions down the line start as innocuous A or B scenarios, where either option seems not particularly important. That, in a way, makes every little interaction exciting, as you don’t know what could lead from the random chance encounters in life.
Regarding film and chance and how I would define it, I think of it as ‘agency control’ – I want to be purposely put in scenarios where my brain is forced to think of creative solutions to problems rather than taking the easy way out. This could be called ‘encouraging lateral thinking’ or ‘forced serendipity’.
I say ‘at the moment’ as my ideas around the concept always change.
In my PhD, I am trying to make as many short films as possible, where each film tackles a different ‘type’ of chance (prompts, collaboration, location, time, lack of actor control, external forces like gravity, etc.). Chance in my films is not just randomness or noise but introducing unexpected elements into a structured framework. With this, I can think more broadly about how chance can affect the creative process, resulting in more meta-commentary information about the nature of chance and how it affects further film productions.
As an artist- how did moving from South Africa to Plymouth influence your perspective and practice?
Luckily, I have had a pretty rounded experience of the UK so far. I originally moved to London, then Weston-super-Mare, and then to Plymouth. Regarding Plymouth, I feel like Goldilocks, as the city is ‘just right’—not too busy to disappear into a sea of obscurity, enough creative opportunities to never feel bored, and people thank the bus drivers, which is cute.
As a foreigner, I notice many elements of the UK that many people take for granted. In South Africa, it is rare to find anything 100 years old, but in the UK, almost every charity shop has a book from another time. The buildings here are ancient, and the cities have been thoroughly lived in. Every scratch and splat of paint has a story, tying us back to the past.
The ability to notice things and take a genuine interest in the day-to-day has been amazing for my practice. I feel like I am swimming in inspiration, which is transparent to others.
How does the DADA movement influence your work? Have any particular artists, concepts, ideas, or techniques from the DADA movement inspired you?
The DADA movement has greatly influenced my thoughts. To be fair, DADA has had tremendous importance regarding ‘chance in art’ in general—they are often seen as the first group to purposely use chance as a process rather than just stumbling into it.
I read Dada: Art and Anti-Art by Hans Richter (an amazing book), and through this, I fell in love with Hugo Ball. If you Google him, you will probably see him dressed as an awkward cylinder (I have this picture printed and on my wall). I like that; even though he was a pretty shy person who knew he was doing absurdist work in crowds who did not understand it, he tried his best.
I like the DADA idea that by engaging in chance, your subconscious thoughts and energy of who you are get accidentally transferred into your work, revealing the fingerprint of an artist’s soul. I like how silly a lot of it is. I also like how punk the movement is, with its hope of destroying what art was and recognising how arbitrary a lot of value consensus is. I think they were a very cool bunch.
Regarding techniques, I am pinching for my work. Hopefully, I will use all of them eventually.
On “Eggistential” (2024), how did discovering Miyamoto Ryuji’s work impact your approach to incorporating chance in filmmaking?
It impacted the creation of the film on an abstract level. Miyamoto Ryuji’s work expanded my ideas of what chance could be. They are an artist who photographs natural disasters to see how they impact buildings and other aspects of life.
The idea that moments happen, and you can take them in as a creative force if you choose to, is what’s interesting. The earthquake you cannot control – it just happens, but choosing to use it as an excuse to be creative is agency. Understanding this more deeply was useful.
Also, destruction made me think about change. When something is made, something else is destroyed. Cooking was a great way to illustrate this.
With “Disseminate” (2024), what were some of the challenges you faced with a collaborative approach, and how did they influence the direction of the work?
I dealt with many issues! The original idea for Disseminate was for it to be part of an ‘exquisite corpse’ project, where multiple directors would work on the same film by submitting a minute of video, continuing on from the previous minute.
Having a strict structure for when people needed to submit scared many off, and missing the deadline caused people to feel that they had done something wrong, lowering engagement. In the future, I would make the project more relaxed and open-ended. That’s the main thing, though. I learnt a lot from this project.
Having Disseminate be a stand-alone piece works surprisingly well. I would not have made a film like this if I had not thought about it being continued by someone else, meaning that something interesting and born from circumstance emerged. With my chance to study, I cannot complain about the outcome.
How do you hope that viewers will engage with or interpret your artwork?
I hope that they find it fun and interesting. In terms of interpretation, the more different interpretations my work receives, the more interesting I find it. The idea that my work can act as some form of ‘chance prompt’ for others is way more engaging to me than having a specific message that I can drill into their heads. It is okay to laugh at it, cry at it, or shout at it. Do whatever feels best.