If “poetry is the language of a state of crisis,” as Michael McClure, a Beat generation poet, declares, then the Qatsi trilogy, an astonishingly poetic piece, must be the symphonic film equivalent of this sentiment. “Qatsi” is a Hopi Indian word for “life,” and these three films, Koyaanisqatsi (1982), Powaqqatsi (1988) and Naqoyqatsi (2002) are visual and musical depictions truly of a world undergoing startling changes. Godfrey Reggio (director) and Philip Glass (composer) collaborated to produce three variations on the themes of technology, nature and humanity, told through a sharp and devastating series of images put to a haunting array of classical style movements. Last time, I discussed the epic nature of Metropolis and its musical accompaniment, and if it is even possible, I have since then stumbled upon an even more powerful film music experience that similarly urges the viewer to consider the mechanization of the future. For me, this was an impressive and commanding introduction to experimental documentary filmmaking and the film music of Philip Glass. The Glass website describes these works as what “may be the most radical and influential mating of sound and vision since ‘Fantasia.’” Surely, there is nothing else quite like it. The sound and picture flow seamlessly together, producing an effect of hyper-reality, as if every event, moment or look is magnified, and the music invites you to crawl inside it.

Koyaanisqatsi is the first in the series, released in 1982. The word is translated to mean “life out of balance,” and indeed, long shots of natural landscapes succeeded by cityscapes and war scenes give an impression that life dominated by technology and modernization might undermine and threaten life on the planet, though there is no singular message intended. Godfrey Reggio debuted his directing career with Koyaanisqatsi and said, “The film's role is to provoke, to raise questions that only the audience can answer…If meaning is the point, then propaganda and advertising is the form.” Reggio, a humanitarian force to be reckoned with, has a resume that includes 14 years of monkhood, dedicated service to the environment and a passionate founding of community organizations for youth street gangs. The absence of a conventional storyline and dialogue certainly do not imply a lack of heart and, in fact, may even more poignantly reveal an abundance of it.

From slow motion scenes of bridges crumbling to time-lapse footage of freeways at night, the film is visually spectacular and excitingly complemented by Philip Glass’s beautiful orchestral narration, instead of voice-overs or dialogue. Think National Geographic’s Earth or Life series, but instead of Oprah Winfrey’s voice, it’s the expert composition of one of the most influential composers of the 20th century. The music exists in the foreground here, substantial enough to render speech unnecessary. Compelling footage of cloudscapes that swirl like ocean swells and anxiety-inducing scenes of surging crowds on escalators all trot along to the appropriate rhythm of alternating slow- and fast-paced modern yet classical-sounding ensemble movements. The music depends mostly on spacious instruments and lulls and rises with the motion of the shots, lightening and deepening in relation to creation or destruction, giving the film a vibrancy and breath-like quality. This style continues throughout the next two films.

Powaqqatsi, the second installation, means “life in transformation” and has a more prominent focus on humans and especially human cultures of the Third World. Koyaanisqatsi is the most famous of the three cult films, but personally, I find this second film to be the most compelling, perhaps because as a sociologist I am naturally drawn to the fascinating characteristics of human cultures, but also because the looks in the eyes of some of those barefoot children are nothing less than chilling. Stories are told in the eyes, in the dances, in the looks of joy and desolation, in the contrast between farms and cities. These are the stories of humanity for those who may have forgotten, the stories of where we came from and where we might be going, all told through the language of visuals and images instead of speech. Reggio seems to be asking, is our language doing our world justice? The “Purpose” section of the Qatsi trilogy’s web page asks, “Could it be that our language is no longer capable of describing the world in which we live? Perhaps, the world we see with old eyes and antique ideas is no longer present.” The combination of provoking images and thoughtful music oftentimes produced two simple gut reactions in me - joy from seeing nature, working on the land and dance, and revulsion from witnessing bombs, conformist cities and advertisements. A central theme of Powaqqatsi is the universal humanity present through all human cultures, as well as the unique individuality of all of them, and the complicated transition of “old nature” into the “new nature” of a technological mode of existence. This is not necessarily condemnation of this transition, as these films themselves are a product of this advancing world, but it is a provocation to ask questions about the transformation, to consider the impacts of an evolving global world and to highlight the value of ancient human customs. The score, composed again by Philip Glass, incorporates tribal drums and songs, and emphasizes music, community and relationship to the land as essential aspects of human existence.

Naqoyqatsi, meaning “war as a way of life,” continues the themes presented in the previous films featuring the North and South, respectively, and develops further the question of technology as a way of life in the superhighways of the Global World. Unlike the first two films, which comprised of breathtaking long shots from aerial views to close-ups of human expressions, most of the footage in this final sequence is taken from stock rooms and computer-generated imagery. Scenes from x-rays to advertisements bring commonplace technological phenomena into a different light. Watching car commercials and airbrushed blondes speaking only through the striking melodies of Philip Glass makes the artificiality seem even more grotesque than usual. The film displays “copies of copies of copies,” or as the post-modern philosopher Frederic Jameson describes, a society based on simulacra where what is original or real has been lost. “Life as war” can be taken to mean that certain ways of life of industrialized countries are a type of civilized violence against nature or the roots of human cultures, though, like all three Qatsi films, the films are better experienced than described or interpreted with any concrete meaning. The technology highlighted through these films is also paving roads as yet unknown; all that is certain is a rhythmic flow of change. Gut reactions and questions may strike you during the viewing and listening of the Qatsi films, so be prepared to sit back, enjoy and be deeply emotionally, spiritually and mentally stimulated. Part of the beauty of these films is their ability to evoke something unnamable from within, as if transporting you to a time before or after language.

The Qatsi trilogy is a vital piece of art in and about the shift in consciousness happening alongside the exponentially growing human population and constant advances in technology, the increasing destruction of the planet and our increasing awareness of it. As humans become more and more interconnected through cell phones, television and the Internet and more educated about history, science, religion and philosophy, it seems that we are facing a huge existential crisis in this stage of our evolution. As a species we are somewhat self-aware of what has evidently become significant self-destruction from technological empowerment, yet what also may be arising is a more collective human identity because of it. In industrialized countries, where many have overcome the crisis of survival, what then for the world of human work? Now that we have comfort and time to reflect, the mind encounters a period of confusion, a crisis of purpose and an awareness of the extravagance of destruction. The Qatsi films are the stories of our place on Earth without the impediment of speech. Let me end mine now by saying, I rapturously recommend these intimate encounters with humanity, nature and technology to you in a visceral and heart wrenching way.

End notes:

• In between the release of Powaqqatsi and Naqoyqatsi, Reggio and Glass produced a shorter similar film called Anima Mundi (1992) featuring animal life for the World Wildlife Fund.
• Check out the official website for the Qatsi trilogy here for a wealth of information and more detailed descriptions.