The Tree (Henry Hills, 2018)

Last year, several filmmakers made films in memory of Peter Hutton, for a show in New York City. For his contribution, Henry Hills completed a film that he had been working on, on and off, since the 60s.  As its title implies, Hills’ film focuses on a very specific tree, one growing in New York’s Tompkins Square Park. It is said to be the tree under which the “Hare Krishna” chant was invented, and as such is legendary in the history of spirituality, the Beat movement, and the city itself. 

Hills shows the tree in all possible states of being: bare branches, green and lush, from up close and far away, in color and in black-and-white. Using frame-by-frame editing, the film makes its subject "come alive," toggling back and forth between multiple still views, usually a series of A and B shots, that produce a vibrating action. The Tree moves through multiple visual ideas, becoming by turns semi-structuralist, psychotronic, and a meditative mandala.

Hills, as you may know, is a filmmaker and poet who, like Abigail Child, has for years been associated with New York's Downtown arts scene, including the jazz / improv movement most closely associated with John Zorn, Elliott Sharp, and Zeena Parkins, as well as the L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E Poets. Like those artists, Hills has emphasized discontinuity in his work, producing films defined by jagged rhythms and breakneck montage. 

There is a bit of this in The Tree, but what distinguishes the new film from Hills' previous efforts is that it is, at base, a study of a single subject. So often, The Tree will get a pattern going between a set of specific images, only to abandon it in favor of another motivic idea. Hills does this throughout The Tree, making it a bit like a visual analogue to a Zorn sax solo. It makes sense on its own terms, but it can be a somewhat frustrating viewing experience, since nothing ever really has a chance to connect. The Tree suggests more than it provides. This, of course, could have been the point all along.