Sam O’Hare’s “The Sandlot” is an absolute masterpiece. It certainly helps that its subjects are the buildings, people, and public spaces of Manhattan and Brooklyn, but it’s the impeccable composition and delicate pace with which they are handled that really shines.
It’s comprised of more than 35,000 still photographs shot over five days and two nights in August of 2009, a herculean effort in and of itself. Each image was manually tilt-shifted and then assembled in time-lapse. What you see here is New York in miniature, yet vivid motion. It’s more humane, more comprehensible, and more attainable, all things not often said about it.
While you can watch it here, it’s worth clicking over to Vimeo to watch “The Sandlot” in full-screen high-def.
As for the music by Human, owners of what looks to be a website designed and developed in the late ’90s (no, that’s not a compliment), Sam says:
I wanted the track to speak to what it is like to experience the many rhythms, pulses and moods of the city and the composition, especially the peak, does this beautifully. The vocals add narrative and pacing to the piece, and really help draw you through it.
Yes, and how. This track, untitled and completely unavailable as best I can tell, would fit perfectly in the Morr Music catalog, slotted between Styrofoam and The Go Find. The male vocals are gentle but spirited, calm but not sedate, and the female vocals remind me of Kirsty Hawkshaw’s work on Opus III’s “It’s a Fine Day,” perhaps best known as the sample in Orbital’s epic “Halcyon and on and on.” High praise indeed.
The lyrics are stunning, especially the last line and inspiration for the title of this post:
Here we go
Start over
Motion fills the airC’mon c’mon
C’mon c’mon
C’mon c’mon nowAnd we know
The fragments
Revealing all the patterns
everywhereC’mon c’mon
C’mon c’mon
C’mon c’mon nowAnd we are
The story
Turn the page
And see what happens nextHere we go
Here we go
Here we goWe walk outside
All afternoon
All afternoon
All afternoonAll afternoon
Over and over
All afternoonRivers of light
Flowing home again
A flicker and its gone
As much as I love music, I often find that the video gets in the way. I can think of only a handful of that serve as more than just a compliment, they provide a means to access the music in a totally new way, something like The Books “Smells Like Content” (like tiny fragments of a finger snap). I will always love this quick “Glowing Cities Under a Nighttime Sky” clip, but the music is secondary. The only one that really comes close is this gem by Andrew Paynter for Tortoise:
That’s the San Francisco I know and love, so cool and crisp, but it pales in comparison to the warmth and glow of Sam’s New York. Makes me wonder why I’m still here and not there.
What’s most interesting to me now is the way GGD feels both wholly of the moment and completely timeless as well. There’s something very current about their sound, something that can only be made in this modern era, yet it so clearly encompasses the energies and eccentricities of another era. Many other eras, in fact.