Journal of Media Practice

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The democracy of colour

Philip Cowan

To cite this article: Philip Cowan (2015) The democracy of colour, Journal of Media Practice, 16:2,
139-154, DOI: 10.1080/14682753.2015.1041806

To link to this article: https://doi.org/10.1080/14682753.2015.1041806

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Journal of Media Practice, 2015
Vol. 16, No. 2, 139–154, http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/14682753.2015.1041806

The democracy of colour

Philip Cowan*

Faculty of Creative Industries, School of Media, University of South Wales, City Campus,
Newport, NP20 2BP, UK
The evolution of the technical reproduction of colour in film has been categorised
and studied in great detail. The aesthetic use of expressive colour has not had as
much attention historical. Vacche and Price’s Color: The Film Reader seemed to
spark a critical interest in this area. In this article, writing as a practising
cinematographer, I outline a brief history of the discussions of the use of colour in
film, examine two significant attempts to define a colour theory for film, Kalmus
and Storaro, and then discuss in detail my own practice in this area. The article
concentrates on The Sleeping-Mat Ballad, a project commissioned by the Welsh
National Opera (WNO) and The Space, and the short animation film The
Separation. In both these films I explore the expressive use of colour, as a function
of the cinematographer.

Introduction
It has only been relatively recently that the use of colour in the creation of meaning
has begun to generate some critical interest. Vacche’s and Price’s (2006) Color: The
Film Reader, which focused on collecting and reprinting historical writings on the
subject, seemed to kick start a fresh inquiry into this area over the last decade.
The evolution of the technical reproduction of colour in film has been categorised
and studied in great detail. The aesthetic use of expressive colour has not had as
much attention. It is my intention to outline a brief history of the discussions of the
use of colour in film and then detail my own practice in this area. I will concentrate
on The Sleeping-Mat Ballad (Constantas 2014), a project commissioned by the
Welsh National Opera (WNO) and The Space, and the short animation film The
Separation (Morgan 2003). With both these films I, as the cinematographer, explore
the expressive use of colour.
A context for this specific discussion of a cinematographer’s contribution to the
use of colour is provided by Russell (1981), who is one of very few critics to study the
particular contribution of the cinematographer, in contrast to the prevailing
assumption of most film criticism which credits the director with any authorial
responsibility (Polan 2001). Russell does discount the cinematographers’ ability to
control colour; however, I will examine the particular reasons she gives for this
assertion (1981, 47).
I will briefly examine critical attitudes to colour and present two significant
attempts of defining a colour theory for film, Kalmus ([1935] 2006), and Storaro
(1998, 2002), before detailing my own experimentation in this area.

*Email: [email protected]
© 2015 Taylor & Francis
140 Philip Cowan

Contexts of colour
The evolution of the technical reproduction of colour in film has been categorised
and studied in great detail (Salt 2009; Higgins 2007). The aesthetic use of expressive
colour has only recently begun to get attention (Vacche and Price 2006; Coates 2010;
Peacock 2010; Brown, Street, and Watkins 2012).
The reasons for this historical neglect are typified by Russell in her study of
cinematography (1981). She makes a conscious decision not to include colour as an
attribute of light, outlining three specific reasons for doing so. Its diverse cultural
connotations, its lack of existence in the first 50 years or so of film production and
her belief that colour is not controlled by the cinematographer (Russell 1981, 47). All
these objections can quite easily be overcome if, first, the context of culture is
considered. Second, it is acknowledged that colour has been a fundamental
component in film production for more than the last 50 years. And finally, if the
notion of collaborative film making is accepted. Cinematographers can control
colour, especially that of the light, but also in terms of art direction, and set design.
In my own two examples, The Sleeping-Mat Ballad and The Separation, I had
significant control over the colour, not just the colour of the light, but the colour of
the sets and their decor.
In his introduction to Color: The Film Reader (2006), Price makes the
observation that colour has been a relatively ignored area of study, ‘unlike the
major areas of investigation within film studies-genre, auteurism, national cinema-to
name a few, color remains an area of inquiry significantly less well heeled’ (1). He
fully endorses Branigan’s observation made in 1976 that, ‘“criticism of film to the
present day has largely proceeded as if all films were made in black and white”
(Branigan 1976, 20). Surprisingly, the situation has changed very little in the past
thirty years’ (1). Russell’s argument is partly that colour is subject to cultural
connotations, and that uses of colour are ‘subjective impressions’ not appropriate for
‘objective methods of examination’ (1981, 47). Price contrasts this conclusion with
the careful consideration that the film-maker makes with their choice of colour,
underlining the significance of colour as a creative element.

The neglect of color in film studies is a curious one. Color is not simply a choice a
filmmaker makes at the level of film stock; rather, having selected color (as most
filmmakers today are so inclined) color becomes a constructive element of mise-en-
scene, one that works alongside of lighting, sound, performance, camera movement,
framing, and editing. Color is thus no incidental characteristic of film stock; it is an
element, carefully considered by set designers, cinematographers, and directors, all of
whom must remain sensitive to the way in which color can create meaning, mood,
sensation, or perceptual cues. (Price 2006, 2)

Price indicates the importance of colour in communicating meaning to an audience.

Early commentators on colour did recognise this as a potential use of colour. Mitry
states in 1963, ‘Until now, color has been used merely to achieve greater realism. …
Even so, it is possible even nowadays to use color for dramatic purposes’ ([1963]
1998, 226).

The harmony or disharmony of colored sensations is an element of expression capable

of complementing or contradicting the meaning of the film signification. The danger is
in using color to compose a ‘good-looking’ image, to make ‘pretty pictures,’ to signify
 Journal of Media Practice 141

through harmonies within the shot, tacking a color symbolism onto the formal
symbolism.... Instead of creating ‘inherently’ harmonious compositions, the filmmaker
must create structures in tune with the psychological meaning of the drama. (Mitry
[1963] 1998, 226–227)

Mitry calls for a use of colour that echoes, or underlines, the ‘psychological meaning
of the drama’. It is this use of colour that I have endeavoured to utilise in the two
films in this study. The question that arises out of Mitry’s demand is how can we
define the psychological meaning of certain colours? Steve Neale, in the essay
Technicolor, taken from his book Cinema and Technology: Sound, Image, Colour
(2006), outlines the early development of the uses and associations of colour. Early
uses of colour were initially novel and limited to expensive features, so colour was
associated with spectacle:

As colour began to be used on television for news and current affairs programmes, the
overwhelming association of colour with fantasy and spectacle began to be weakened:
colour acquired instead the value of realism. (Neale [1985] 2006, 22)

This early association of colour with realism is connected to the introduction of

certain technology into different contexts, rather than any psychological function. In
the same way handheld camerawork was initially extensively used in documentary
and news gathering, so its subsequent appropriation by fictional film-making,
notably Saving Private Ryan (Spielberg 1998) was drawing primarily on this
contextual association. Colour like every other consideration of mise-en-scene can
be exploited for different stylistic intentions, ranging from realism to representation,
a method of expressionistic meaning. A particular effect may be employed to create a
sense of realism, and in this instance colour can be subject to simple issues of
reproduction. The simple aim here is to re-produce the colours seen on the set or
location as accurately as possible in the filmic image. As with the film image, or
recording format, it is easy to get obsessive about the purely technical aspects of the
subject, which Price outlines (2006, 11). Russell also makes the point, in her study of
lighting, that the study of light due to its physical properties, ‘often remove it from
the world of the critic to that of the physicist’ (1981, 13). The same could be said of
colour. She also notes, that ‘problems of lighting are left … to the historians who
chronicle the changing relationship between advances in technology and their
general acceptance in the classical cinema of Hollywood’ (13). Again this observa-
tion could generally be applied to the use of colour in film. Often critics or academics
will concentrate on the technical evolution of the use of colour, rather than any
aesthetic discussion. Price makes a similar observation:

The bulk of the research that has been done on color in film thus far has centered on the
development of color film technology and the ways in which emergent color processes
affected film style.’ (2006, 11)

This emphasis is not always mirrored in critics’ discussion of other aspects of mise-
en-scene, for example, discussions of film noir lighting are almost never proceeded by
outlines of lighting technology, optics and exposures. Why should an aesthetic
discussion on colour have to be framed around ‘… precepts about vision and the
ontological status of color’? (Vacche and Price 2006, 11). This argument has parallels
142 Philip Cowan

with the usual bias of any discussion of the cinematographers’ role and function, which
itself is often burdened with a technical/technology emphasis. I have discussed this
issue elsewhere (Cowan 2012). Looking at colour as a function of the cinematogra-
pher’s creative contribution to a film allows us to narrow down this broad and
predominantly scientific direction of study. I would put the mechanical processes
involved to one side, and deal with colour in terms of its use and meaning within the
projected image. My intention is to separate out the technical evolution and look more
closely at the semiotic use of colour, to consider specific uses of colour by particular
directors of photography, in this case, Vittorio Storaro, and in my own work.
Price includes in his Film Reader a presentation by Natalie M. Kalmus, who was
the Head of Technicolor’s Color Advisory Service, and makes the point that, in film-
making practice, colour has been considered in terms of its aesthetic and
expressionistic qualities from its introduction.

‘Color Consciousness’ is an elaboration of Kalmus’s aesthetic and is nothing less than a

blueprint for understanding color patterns and associations intended in Technicolor
films. One could say without risk of overstatement that Kalmus was a genuine auteur, a
figure whose signature is as evident, if not more so, as the more celebrated directors with
whom she worked. Moreover, Kalmus occupied a unique position as someone who
developed a coherent style in consultation with the scientists who developed the system
itself. (Vacche and Price 2006, 11–12)

Price’s evocation of the auteur theory opens up debates about authorship, and
particularly co-authorship in film, which relates in part to the argument that I am
putting forward for the cinematographer’s contribution to this field. Kalmus served
as the Technicolor advisor on the majority of films using Technicolor equipment
from the 1930s to 1950s. She responded to the shift towards realism in her 1935
lecture Colour Consciousness, presented to the technicians’ branch of the Academy of
Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (Higgins 2007, 41).

This enhanced realism enables us to portray life and nature as it really is, and in this
respect we have made definite strides forward. A motion picture, however, will be
merely an accurate record of certain events unless we guide this realism into the realms
of art. (Kalmus [1935] 2006, 24)

Kalmus is making the argument to treat colour in a more expressionistic,

representational way, suggesting that its exploitation by the film-maker is dependent
on their understanding of colour psychology. To an extent Kalmus’ desire to see
colour used in an artistic way anticipates Mitry’s ([1963] 1998). Kalmus makes the
point that a film attempts to ‘control the thoughts and emotions’ of its audience. She
states that, ‘The psychology of color is all-important in this respect’ (26).
Kalmus is convinced that colour can be used selectively to represent dramatic
moods and manipulate the emotions of the audience. She goes on to define broad
categories within an overall colour palette.

The usual reaction of a color upon a normal person has been definitely determined.
Colors fall into two general groups. The first group is the ‘warm’, and the second the
‘cool’ colors. Red, orange, and yellow are called the warm or advancing colors. They
call forth sensations of excitement, activity, and heat. In contrast, green, blue, and violet
are the cool or retiring colors. They suggest rest, ease, coolness. Grouping colors in
 Journal of Media Practice 143

another manner we found that colors mixed with white indicate youth, gaiety,
informality. Colors mixed with gray suggest subtlety, refinement, charm. When mixed
with black, colors show strength, seriousness, dignity, but sometimes represent the baser
emotions of life. (Kalmus [1935] 2006, 26)

There is a prescriptive nature to Kalmus’s meanings created by mixing colours with

white, grey or black. However, her initial categorisation mirrors the physical high
energy of the shorter wavelength colours, the so-called ‘warm’ colours, and the
longer wavelength of the ‘cooler’ colours. This is mirrored by Storaro’s own
interpretation of colours. Kalmus goes on to give specific meaning to single colours.

For example, red recalls to mind a feeling of danger, a warning. It also suggests blood,
life, and love. It is materialistic, stimulating. It suffuses the face of anger, it led the
Roman soldiers into battle. Different shades of red can suggest various phases of life,
such as love, happiness, physical strength, wine, passion, power, excitement, anger,
turmoil, tragedy, cruelty, revenge, war, sin, and shame. (Kalmus [1935] 2006, 26)

The interpretations Kalmus attributes to the colour red vary considerable. She
includes wine, which is just red in colour. Some of her associations seem to be
intellectual definitions, that is red may be used as a symbol for danger, or as a
signifier for blood. However, which shade is equivalent to love, which to war? How
are these contrasting interpretations controlled? Kalmus goes on to define meanings
for a range of colours (Kalmus [1935] 2006, 26–27). Again Kalmus presents
associations that have different methodologies. Associations that are literal, for
example nature is green. Interpretations that are motivated by cultural associations,
for example gold as riches, green as jealously, true blue, purple as royalty, which
originates in the use of expensive pigments in Byzantine portraiture.
There is a need to clearly separate the different methodologies of meaning, and
types of association, that Kalmus employs. In order to address this problem I would
propose that a starting point would be to suggest that colour has three functions
within the projected image: realism, psychological and cultural.
Colour is predominantly used to increase the realism of a filmic image, as
suggested by Neale (2006, 22). There was a distinct shift from the superficiality of
colour when it was first introduced and its almost complete acceptance as a
fundamental aspect of a filmic image. Writing in 1963, Mitry makes the observation
that ‘Until now, color has been used merely to achieve greater realism’ (Mitry [1963]
1998, 226). The majority of films today tend to treat colour in a naturalistic, or
realistic, way. Creating a naturalistic, or realistic, image does not mean using only
available or ‘natural’ light. Often a naturalistic look needs to be artificially created.
Colour certainly has a psychological effect, and to an extent this is the most
difficult to quantify, without further in-depth research. It requires an understanding
of various colour theories, but unlike cultural meanings of colour, I would suggest
that the psychological effect of colour is more universally consistent. It is perhaps
signified by an emotional resonance within the viewer.
Cultural use of colour is dependant on an intellectual, symbolic use, which can
vary in different parts of world. This is a separate way to use and interpret colours,
which relies on pre-described meanings being attached to a colour. The context of
those meanings is within the wider cultural and intellectual domain of each region. A
simple example is that black is used for mourning in Western cultures, while white
144 Philip Cowan

serves the same connotative function in Asian cultures. Mitry attacks the intellec-
tually symbolic use of colour in favour of the more distinct psychological use.

The psychological significance of color depends on relative harmonies and not on the
qualitities of the colors themselves. Making red stand for anger, blue for tenderness, and
yellow for treachery is to create an elementary if not infantile form of symbolism. In the
same way that musical sounds have no meaning except relative to each other, so the
relationships of various tones with a predominating tone and the resulting harmonies
direct the mind toward a predetermined meaning. Since this is imposed by the dramatic
situation, there can be only one harmony, one resonance, especially since, for the most
part, colored sensations tend to conform with the associations given them; their
symbolism is subordinate. (Mitry [1963] 1998, 227)

Mitry confines the meaning of colours to their contextual use. Creating meaning
with both the psychological and cultural use of colour can also be affected by its
contextual use within the text, i.e. the film. Kracauer supports this point, contrasting
cultural connotations of colour with their contextual use in Alexander Nevsky
(Eisenstein 1938). He points out the obvious use of white hoods for the Teutonic
Knights, ‘white usually suggestive of innocence here is made to signify scheming
ruthlessness’ (Kracauer 1960, 68).
Mitry and Kracauer both imply a balance needs to be maintained between the
psychological or cultural response to a colour, and its contextual use. Vittorio
Storaro is a cinematographer who exploits colour in this way. Born in 1940, Storaro
developed an early interest in cinema, as his father worked as a film projectionist.
During his time shooting over 50 films, in 40 years, Storaro has developed a
particular approach to the use of colour. His most significant collaboration has been
with Bernardo Bertolucci, with whom he has made eight films: The Spider’s
Stratagem (1969), The Conformist (1970), Last Tango in Paris (1972), 1900 (1975),
La Luna (1979), The Last Emperor (1987), The Sheltering Sky (1990) and Little
Buddha (1994). He has also written extensively about his philosophical approach to
his work, particularly in his three-volume work called Writing with Light, (1) The
Light (2001), (2) Colours (2002) and (3) The Elements (2003). As one of the most
respected directors of photography in the world, he has been at the forefront of
gaining co-authorship status for cinematographers, both legally and artistically. Over
his career he has developed a philosophy of colour, which he has experimented with,
and explored throughout most of his films:

I am trying to describe the story of the film through the light. I try to have a parallel
story to the actual story so that through light and color you can feel and understand,
consciously and unconsciously, much more clearly what the story is about. (Schaefer
and Salvato 1984, 220–221)

This approach he calls a ‘literature of light’ (Schaefer and Salvato 1984, 232). The
Last Emperor is a key example of how Storaro considers colour in terms of narrative.
He created a very specific colour structure to the film, which reflected the main
character’s development throughout the narrative.

In this way, the photographic structure which seemed perfect for writing the story of
The Last Emperor with light extended itself before my eyes: a figurative composition
that, initiating his journey out of darkness, from the murky tonalities of the
 Journal of Media Practice 145

unconscious, would lead through the colored rips of his memories, in a parallel reliving
of feelings, emotions, and colors toward the illumination of a new life. (Storaro 1998, 60)

Storaro’s interpretation of colours has certain parallels with Kalmus’. Storaro

defines orange as a ‘symbol of growth’ (1998, 60), and Kalmus calls it ‘bright and
enlivening; it suggests energy, action’ ([1935] 2006, 26). There are, of course, varying
definitions: blue to Storaro represents freedom (61); for Kalmus it is suggestive of
truth (27). However, Storaro’s definition in this case is prompted by their contextual
use in the film The Last Emperor. Blue is first introduced in the film when Pu Yi, the
Emperor, first realises that he is in fact a prisoner in the Forbidden City. Storaro
deliberately associates green with knowledge, and rebirth, as it is first introduced
when the Emperor’s English Tutor arrives at the Forbidden City (61). Kalmus’
interpretation of green is a fairly broad one, it ‘recalls the garb of Nature …
freshness, growth, vigor’ (27).
Storaro is fairly unique amongst cinematographers, as he has written extensively
about the philosophy of his work. His ideas about colours developed from film to
film, sometimes based on the context of the individual narrative, and sometimes on
as his own overall philosophy of colours. Storaro is a key example of how colour can
be used in a more representational way, especially when it is linked to a specific
contextual use. His work also demonstrates why colour should be included in any
analytical framework of cinematography, and not just regarded as a result of a
photographic process or reproductive accuracy.

The Sleeping-Mat Ballad and The Separation

In November 2014 the WNO announced a co-commission with The Space, an online
gallery and commissioner. The theme of the commission, entitled Occupation - Five
songs that shock the world, was public protest. Five composers were asked to respond
to contemporary acts of protest happening around the world. Each composer was
given a two-week window to choose a theme and compose the song. The intention
was that a video to accompany each song would be produced, with the support of
Ffilm Cymru (formerly known as the Film Agency for Wales), whose remit includes
the economic, educational and cultural development of the film sector in Wales.
Judith Weir, Master of the Queen’s Music, one of the chosen composers, was
inspired by the street protests happening at the time in Hong Kong. The pro-
democracy protests began in September 2014, following China’s Standing Commit-
tee of National People’s Congress (NPCSC) decision to only allow officially
sanctioned candidates to stand in the city’s leadership election in 2017.
The protest, which led to a prolonged occupation of Hong Kong’s financial and
political hub developed into a commune-style gathering and was dubbed ‘Occupy
Central’ and ‘The Umbrella Revolution’. Thousands of post-it notes were used to
display messages of support, and explanations of the protestors’ demands. These
covered walls near the Hong Kong government headquarters.
Yellow became a representative colour of the protest, with yellow ribbons being
tied around barriers and fences. Umbrellas also became a symbol of the protest with
a large proportion of the protestors using them to shield themselves from the sun, the
rain and police tear gas. Many of the umbrellas were coloured yellow. Judith Weir
outlined her own motivation for selecting this particular topic.
146 Philip Cowan

Reading about the remaining camps, I was touched by the idealism of the student
protesters, and the frail beauty of their living spaces. For instance, we read that some of
them had woven mats to sleep on – and that’s where our Occupation song begins…
(http://www.occupation.org.uk/songs/judith-weir)

Margaret Constantas was commissioned to direct the video for Song 2, The Sleeping-
Mat Ballad. Having worked with Margaret on a number of projects, including the
BAFTA award winning The Confectioner (1997), Brenin (2004) and more recently
Branches: The Nature of Performance (2014), I was happy to collaborate on the
project as cinematographer.
Our initial conversations involved the visual narrative of the images, which
Margaret was keen not to simply illustrate the libretto, but to add another layer of
meaning to the project. It was our intention to highlight the character of the
protestor, and, to an extent, follow her journey through the protest to date (at the
time of making the video the protests were still ongoing). As I write, the Hong Kong
police are clearing the protest camps (December, 2014).
Initially inspired by the clear use of symbolic colour to represent the protest, it
became my intention to expand on this and utilise a strong sense of representational
colour throughout the film.
The starting point was, of course, the yellow mat. Yellow in our scheme was to
represent hope. It is the symbol of the protest. It appears not only in the mat, but
within the sea of post-it notes that offer support for the protest (Figure 1). I choose
to have a continuous yellow backlight on our single character, to accent her position
as part of the protest. The colour has this association immediately with the protest,
due to its use in the mise-en-scene, as Mitry would agree (Mitry [1963] 1998, 227).
Kalmus described yellow embodying wisdom, reward and other positive elements in
its lighter tone. This would also be appropriate for its use in The Sleeping-Mat
Ballad. Storaro uses yellow to represent conscience, as in self-awareness, which does
chime with its use here.
It seemed fairly obvious to use red as both an intellectual symbol for the Chinese
government, and as a straight-forward symbol of fear and danger, in which we risk
the accusation of ‘infantile … symbolism’ from Mitry ([1963] 1998, 227). The red

Figure 1. The Yellow Mat. © WNO/The Space/Fflim Cymru 2014.

 Journal of Media Practice 147

begins to appear in the background, overtaking the more tranquil blue (Figure 2).
The red is dominant as the wind, which also represents opposition to the protest,
begins to sweep away the post-it notes, along with our character’s own thoughts and
declarations, represented by the yellow tissue paper. Storaro associates red with birth
(2002), which would seem contradictory to its use in The Sleeping-Mat Ballad.
The blue background acts as both a representation of an external scene and a
symbol of calm and freedom. Kalmus suggests blue denotes truth, calm and hope
([1935] 2006, 27), which would certainly apply in this instance. Storaro’s association
of freedom with blue in The Last Emperor would parallel its use here (1998, 61);
however, Storaro makes a later, more generally association of blue with intelligence,
in his book Writing with Light Vol. 2: The Colors (2002). Blue is restored to the
background in the final scene of The Sleeping-Mat Ballad, in order to convey the
permanence of the idea of freedom (Figure 3).
There have been a couple of projects in the past in which I have attempted to
work to a coherent colour structure. The Separation (Morgan 2003) is one I consider
to be more accomplished.
The Separation is an animated, stop-motion film that tells the story of conjoined
twins, Dave and Muster, who are separated in their infancy and harbour a desire to
be rejoined. The film has won 12 ‘Best Film’ awards at various film festivals around
the world, including my second collaborative BAFTA Cymru win for ‘Best Short
Film’ in 2004. Robert Morgan wrote the dark, but moving script, and his
anthropomorphic animation of the characters elicits a compelling sympathy.
For The Separation, I used a very steady progression through all the colours of
the spectrum, in much the same way as Storaro introduces colours and associates
them with specific thematic ideas in The Last Emperor, each colour having a
particularly symbolic and emotional quality. The film is book-ended by white and
black, which overall represent the journey from birth to death, white representing
birth (Figure 4) and black representing death (Figure 5). The first image is of the
baby twins floating around in an abstract white environment, pre-birth. It could be
argued that it is certainly a cultural use of colour, particularly a Western one. John
Gage (1999), in his book, Colour and Meaning, observes that the artist Kandinsky

Figure 2. Red floods in. © WNO/The Space/Fflim Cymru 2014.

148 Philip Cowan

Figure 3. Blue restored. © WNO/The Space/Fflim Cymru 2014.

draws the same associations with these colours, although for the time he states that,
‘… his [Kandinsky’s] characterisation of black and white as “death” and “birth” are
both unusual’ (243). Storaro makes a seemingly contradictory analysis of white.

It is the color associated with Equilibrium, in the sense of balanced feelings, emotions
and colors; with Maturity achieved at the end of life’s long journey. More than any
other color, it represents the Joining and Union of everything that was once separated.
(Storaro 2002, 124)

However, his definition does refer to balance and union, which represents the state of
the twins at the beginning of their lives, rather than the end. Storaro’s assumption is
that with maturity comes balance, but The Separation represents time’s arrow
travelling from order to chaos, which is a more scientific approach, rather than a
spiritual one.
The life of the characters begins in orange. This is a very warm, comforting
colour. It represents the ideal time for them, which is when they are physically joined
together (Figure 6). There are no immediate contradictions with either Kalmus
or Storaro with this context. When the twins are separated, yellow is introduced

Figure 4. The Separation, birth in white. © S4C/Sgrîn/WAC 2003.

 Journal of Media Practice 149

Figure 5. Death in black. © S4C/Sgrîn/WAC 2003.

(Figure 7). This is a much harsher colour. It’s very focused and it is used to represent
the characters’ self-awareness and their realisation of where they are and who they
are. It is used as a self-conscious colour, much in the same way as Storaro uses it in
The Last Emperor. Here it represents the fact that the twins are now separated and
have become aware of themselves and their environment. Gage refers to the
intellectual valve of yellow (1999, 242). We also see much more of their environment
at this stage of the film. The first sequence is lit with a very soft, low-key lighting; the
focus of attention is clearly the twins. When the doctors approach the light level
increases, and the shot widens, so that their environment becomes more apparent,
reflecting the twins growing awareness of themselves and their circumstances.
Red is a deeply passionate colour, positive or negative, anger or love, and this
represents the one twin, Muster, and his desire to be somehow rejoined with his
brother (Figure 8). This colour is introduced when the brothers are older. In this case
it could be described as a warning of danger, as it is this passion, which will
ultimately lead to tragedy. However, at this stage of the film it is clearly associated
with Muster’s desire to be rejoined to his brother. This could be seen as a positive or
a negative at this point of the narrative.
At this stage of the film we are also in semi-light, semi-shadow, which symbolises
the halfway point of their lives and represents the balance they have struck between
being together and being apart. Their workshop environment is green. For me this
symbolises the safeness and neutrality of the space (Figure 9). Storaro’s association

Figure 6. Warm togetherness. © S4C/Sgrîn/WAC 2003.

150 Philip Cowan

Figure 7. Separation in yellow. © S4C/Sgrîn/WAC 2003.

of green with knowledge would not seem to apply (2002). However, if we refer to
Gage’s study of the meaning of various colours we find a sympathetic analysis of red
and green, which can be applied to The Separation.

Mondrian’s characterization of red and green as respectively external and internal might
simply refer to their role in the modeling of flesh, but the context suggests that they were
far more than this.… In Besant and Leadbeater’s Thought-Forms (1901) red, Mondrian’s
female, material colour is characteristic of pride, avarice, anger and sensuality, and
green, his male, spiritual value, of sympathy and adaptability. (Gage 1999, 260)

The pride and sensuality of red fit well with Muster’s physical desire to be rejoined
with his brother, which can also be seen as an external state. The spiritual valve of
green, its sympathy and adaptability corresponds with the fact that the twins have
settled into a life together within the same space, the workshop. Kalmus associates
dark green with passivity and tranquility ([1935] 2006, 27), which are appropriate to
the Twins’ workshop environment.
Creating a rich colour palette can depend on the lighting, but it is also crucial in
terms of the art direction. The red in the bedroom and the dominant green in the
workshop (Figures 8 and 9), are achieved almost exclusively by the set design.

Figure 8. Red reflects desire. © S4C/Sgrîn/WAC 2003.

 Journal of Media Practice 151

Figure 9. Safe in green. © S4C/Sgrîn/WAC 2003.

Flooding the workshop with green light would give an uncomfortable light on the
faces of the characters. So the cinematographer works very closely with the set
designer, costume designers and art directors to achieve the overall visual style.
Production designer Stéphane Collonge worked on The Separation, creating some
stunning sets.
As the twins agree on the idea of being rejoined the film becomes much darker.
Very low-key images are used in the scene when they make the decision to be
rejoined (Figure 10). Dave’s self-harm is highlighted here as well. I wanted to reduce
the film to very dark images at this point to reflect the ‘darker’ desires of the
characters and their emotional low points. By this stage we have gone from the
overall soft light in the hospital at the start, to high contrast light at the film’s
darkest moment.
The final scenes are working their way to the final colour, blue. This is achieved
solely through the lighting; there is nothing blue on the set. I have attempted to
justify, or motivate the blue light, by the fact that it might be dawn. Muster gets out
of bed, and as he dresses Dave by the window, the blue light gets stronger
(Figure 11). When we reach the hospital the image is almost entirely blue (Figure 12).
Blue is a very distant colour, and soft, almost out of focus. It is dark, and subdued.
No passion, no life. This is a colour at rest, and the characters are returning to where
they were separated to do just that, rest and die:

Figure 10. The darkest moment. © S4C/Sgrîn/WAC 2003.

152 Philip Cowan

Figure 11. Blue begins to over-take. © S4C/Sgrîn/WAC 2003.

‘Blue embodies the approach of night and symbolizes the dormancy that descends on
nature as winter draws nigh. In the Ages of Man, it corresponds to a withdrawal from
public life, the calming of the senses, and fading passion’ (Storaro 2002, 94).

Storaro evokes similar emotions in the value of blue, which correspond to the
twins reaching entering the last stage of their life. Kalmus suggests that blue has
associations with truth, calm and serenity ([1935] 2006, 27), which again is
sympathetic in its use in these final scenes. In terms of using such a dominant
colour in the final sequence, I felt it was important that there is the reference to white
light in the hospital. I specifically designed the strip lights in the wall so that there
would be a reference to white in the frame, so that the eyes of the viewer cannot
settle on the blue. Without the reference to white, I felt that the audience would grow
immune to the use of blue in the scene, their eyes may ‘adjust’ and after a short time
would not see it anymore.
What I intended with The Separation is to represent the journey of the characters
by the progression of the light and colours. Being a small-scale animation film,
completely shot in a studio, I was able to have complete control over the lighting and
explore this idea of the visual style having its own narrative, but one that reflected
and supported the characters’ journey.

Figure 12. Final deep blue. © S4C/Sgrîn/WAC 2003.

 Journal of Media Practice 153

Conclusion
In constructing my own representational colour structures for The Sleeping-Mat
Ballad and The Separation, I found many parallels in my contextual use of colours
and the colour schemes defined by both Kalmus and Storaro, particularly the use of
orange, yellow and blue. Kalmus seemed to have the most appropriate associations,
including aspects of red and the use of dark green, whereas Storaro has more
contradictory definitions, specifically with white and red.
Within my proposed separation of the use of colour into three functions, realism,
psychological or cultural, it could be argued that the comparisons between Klamus’,
Stoarao’s and my own colour schemas are more sympathetic when considered within
a psychological framework. Differences are much more evident in any cultural or
intellectual use of colour, Storaro’s red as birth, green for knowledge or white as
balance. My own use of Red to represent the Chinese authority is an intellectual use
of the colour, which relies on its contextual use in the film. These contextual
associations run the risk of becoming an ‘infantile form of symbolism’ according to
Mitry ([1963] 1998, 227), unless that ‘symbolism is subordinate’ to the contrasting or
harmonious juxtaposition of other colours in the imagery. The red in The Sleeping-
Mat Ballad seeps in from the edges of the frame and overpowers the calmer, softer
tones of the blue and yellow; its presence dominates the following sequence, clashing
quite vibrantly with the yellow that represents the protest. This juxtaposition of
colours has its own visual resonance beyond the crude symbolism, so I would hope
that Mitry would forgive me.
There is a thin line between the use of colour in a psychological way and in a
cultural way. The former I would categorise as having a more emotional, intuitive
response within an audience, and the latter an intellectual one. This mix is evident in
The Sleeping-Mat Ballad with the use of red and yellow. The Separation not only
contains cultural uses of colour, notably red for passion, but also has psychological
uses of colour, green for the safe environment of the workshop, the warm orange at
the start and the self-conscious yellow.
With these examples of my own work, and that of Storaro’s, I have challenged
Russell’s argument that colour is not controlled by the cinematographer (1981, 47).
The cases that I have discussed clearly show the significant contribution a
cinematographer can make to the creation of meaning in the filmic image, and
consequently go some way to further a claim to co-author status for directors of
photography in the wider attribution of authorship debate.

Disclosure statement
No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author.

Notes on contributor
Philip Cowan teaches film-making within the Faculty of Creative Industries at the University
of South Wales. He also works as a freelance cinematographer and has shot over 50
productions, including drama, documentary, performance and animation projects, working
for the BBC, ITV, C4, S4C and numerous independent companies. The films that he has shot
have collected 20 international ‘Best Short Film’ awards at festivals worldwide, including two
BAFTA Cymru awards. He has also taught film-making at various institutions in Europe,
India and Africa. He has written articles on film authorship and cinematographer Gregg
154 Philip Cowan

Toland. He is currently undertaking a PhD on cinematography at Manchester Metropolitan

University.

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