The Man of Carton

“The Man of Carton” - Music Video

The Man of Carton (2021) is a music video project that uses forms of fantasy and animation to provide a metaphor for, and representation of, a specific type of human behaviour related to psychopathy, exploring the relationships between emotion, empathy, and behaviour. Psychopathy’s most significant and dominant characteristics are traditionally understood as the reification of humans, a perceived lack of emotion, a need to corrupt or cause harm or pain to others, and a complex relationship to modes of innocence.[1] Directed by Aino Heikurainen and with cinematography by Pedro J. Zarzoso López, The Man of Carton as both a song and a video offers an opportunity to examine how we can use animation and fantasy to engage with particular types of divergent and diverse human behaviour. This blog post will reflect on the creative process behind The Man of Carton video, focusing on the role and influence of fantasy and animation in the construction of several elements of the project’s development, including the cover image, the lyrics, and the final video. Influenced by a range of media from Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather to Hayao Miyazaki’s animated film My Neighbor Totoro, The Man of Carton video (which is a smaller chapter of a larger project titled called “True Countries”) centres on the psyche of a very specific type of human predator common in the XXI century.

Fig. 1 - The Man of Carton - Cover production images.

Fig. 2 - Cover build-up.

When working on the lyrics for the song in the early stages, I wanted to define what I meant by “Man of Carton” and why I chose that name as a descriptor. While composing a poem, sonnet, or prose, the sonority of the elements naturally acquires certain importance. “Carton” instead of “cardboard” therefore seemed more interesting and multifaceted (carton means cardboard in Spanish, my mother tongue). The Man of Carton is literally a Man whose skin has become thick and numbed by layers of paper adhered to his surface. These layers prevent him from “feeling” in the most conventional sense of the word. My intention was that his thick ‘layered´ skin would function as a metaphor of some sort of sensing disorder. There is also a nice link between carton as a material and the design of the cover art for broader “True Countries” project, which involved the production of a cardboard set similar to that familiar from stop-motion animation. I built a 1/20 scale model (Fig. 1) with all the characters present across the True Countries project, and I would use this model not just for the cover of the music album (Fig. 2), but equally as a guideline for all the creative process for The Man of Carton.

When working on the lyrics for the song, it was also important to define the features of this “Man of Carton.”  As a predator insect, he blends in with the environment – he is camouflaged in everyday society, and he uses this camouflage to secretly spy on his victims. He has a type of personality very harmful and common in our contemporary moment. This lack of information about his normal existence across and within society makes him a powerful and intriguing figure. Exposing him disarms him. As Sun Tzu puts it in The Art of War, “If you know your enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.”[2] The final lyrics of the song give an indication as to his specific characteristics:

The Man of Carton
(Vocals: A. Marti) (Backing vocals: Hege Jupskås Wee)

The Man of Carton stares at us from his lonely tower,
he wants to know what he can get out of us
The man of carton senses that he is powerful
he has never switched the light off when he goes to bed

This man,
when he gives
he is investing.
And even though,
he smokes
he has never touched the flame.
And Time,
it goes
and he knows it´s getting harder that he is getting filled in orange.
This man,
this man,
is the man of carton.

The man of carton is repaired with layers and layers,
the skin so thick that he can´t even feel his pulse
The man of carton quantifies us terribly,
he has learned that undefined is agreement now

This man,
kissed once,
and got wounded.
No escape,
his role,
it is everlasting.
And Time,
it goes,
and he is trapped in a maze of layers that are closer to his body.
This man,
this man,
is the man of carton.

Fig. 3 - Storyboard sketches.

While producing the song at Sounds-Good productions in Stavanger, Norway, I worked with both producers Carlos Sánchez and Stéphane Detrez. Stéphane´s approach to the song was more philosophical and deductive, while Carlos had a more intuitive and direct method. Apart from the first meetings at the beginning of the process, I would work with both of them separately during the development. The female vocals were something that I had clear since the beginning and wanted the Norwegian singer Hege Jupskås Wee to feature in the song. I contacted her and we started rehearsing right away. The final sound was achieved during the final mixing with the sound engineer Inge Engelsvold. We were trying to achieve something from the sound of the song, so the images I had in my head, alongside with the lyrics, would feed to each other back. The key inspirations for the sound were ideas of the primitive, large drums made out of animal skin, the use of instruments and sounds that would touch on fantasy by taking us to the fairy context, the use of Mellotron and Theremin; a vintage bass design, strings in a foggy twilight setting and bright piano notes. We used these concepts as a guide through the process, like some sort of audio mood board, even though some of the ideas were very specific. We took many of the concepts literally, such as the case of the big drum that became the “heart beat” of the song. However, it would not be until later on when in mixing phase that those “heart beats” would adapt to the final sound of the song, (appearing only when necessary). There is certainly some magic to that moment in music when you can “listen” to something that it is only suggested and later confirmed. The song as an object must function in itself. Carlos, Stéphane, and I had interesting debates regarding the layout of the song in terms of sound. I pitched to Carlos an introduction and presentation of the character structuring the story that I wanted to bring up. I draw at the studio desk, next to the mixing table where we were recording, what it later would become the story board of the music video (Fig. 3).

Fig. 4 - The Kaonashi (faceless) figure from Spirited Away (Hayao Miyazaki, 2002).

Fig. 5 - Costume design for The Man of Carton.

When engaging the production design of the final video to accompany the song, I continued to think about the physical condition of the Man of Carton as a way to inform the style of the footage. The face of this fantasy figure could not be like that of other humans. He was instead to be presented as an emotionless mask. He is a man who cannot be satisfied, since when he acquires something from one victim, he is already thinking about the next one. His appetite is ravenous. Neither smile nor sadness. The analogue to the character’s design was Hayao Miyazaki´s Kaonashi (faceless) figure from Spirited Away, where the Faceless one represents a spirit incapable of obtaining anything that satisfies him from the ordinary world of Yubaba, the God-witch of that world (Fig. 4). However, the presence of young protagonist Chihiro's innocence in Spirited Away captivates the Faceless creature, which is why the character only answers to her. Chihiro becomes the only person he wants to obtain something from. When I was designing the specific costume for the Man of Carton, I was very conscious that we were mixing animated-style characters with live-action by folding the idea of an animation world into reality. Concepts as gravity, shapes, and expressions of emotions through character motion emerged as important creative elements. The body of the Man of Carton would end up consisting of a big black bag filled with balloons and the face would be a white emotionless mask, similar to the design of the Faceless character from Spirited Away (Fig. 5).

Fig. 6 - In the landscape of The Man of Carton.

Fig. 7 - A shot from The Man of Carton.

The shooting of the music video itself took place during September 2020 in Benicàssim, Spain. It was directed by Aino Johanna Heikurainen (who also plays the fairy role), with Pedro Zarzoso as the cinematographer. When preparing the sets and costumes for the shooting, we had in mind that we were again mixing two visual different languages: animation and live-action. The Man of Carton costume and those of the fairy belong to the animation world, whereas the landscape, light and expression belong to a more authentic reality. This hybrid effect achieves the desired contrast, intrigue and weirdness to complement the lyrics and music (see Figs. 6 and 7).

Interestingly, when I signed a contract for Chinese distribution with the label Handshake Records, I had a conversation with my manager regarding the place of fantasy within The Man of Carton video, and particularly the role of ghosts. In the words of the artist Aowen Jin:

“Ghosts play a prominent role in Chinese culture, folklore, mythology and legend, and have done for thousands of years. Every year we have a Ghost Festival to welcome the family dead, and China's most famous classic literature is showered with ghostly themes. For example, Liao Zhai Zhi Yi is regarded as the best example of Chinese short story writing, and combines 491 individual ghost stories, including the inspiration for Painted Skin.” But like many things in China, ghosts are not as simple as they seem. Throughout Chinese literature and history, ghosts have been used as a metaphor, and evil ghosts often symbolise political contexts and corrupt government officials. Ghost stories became a political tool that the government has found hard to control. Not surprisingly in China today, under one-party political rule, very little has changed. Banning ghost stories sounds almost absurd and laughable to the West, and yet it carries the deep-rooted, historical fear that the government feels about its own people” (2015).

Due to the sensitivity of the Chinese market regarding ghosts and spirits, my manager therefore told me to modify the cover of the single for the Chinese market (Figs. 8 and 9).

Fig. 8 - The final album cover for The Man of Carton.

Fig. 9 - The amended cover for the Chinese market.

This post has briefly reflected on the nature of the human psyche, from the side of the predator and from the side of the prey, through a consideration of my collaborative Man of Carton project. I was interested at every stage of production by ways to express these my range of ideas and reflections in a convincing way using animation and fantasy techniques, but situated in real world spaces. However, each step taken influenced and inspired subsequent ones, with the presentation of these reflection of process on the canvas that is the final The Man of Carton video.

**Article published: April 22, 2022**

Notes

[1] Innocence comes from Latin “innocens”. Innocens is the result of a sum of the prefix “in”, meaning no or without, + “nocens”, derived from the verb “nocere”, meaning “doing harm”. Innocence is the absence of guilt in relation to any type of wrongdoing. Innocence is related in a very close level with purity. We are born with it (innocence) and as we grow we lose it- as part of the natural development of the individual- or it is taken away from us.

[2] “If you know your enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself, but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.” Sun Tzu, The Art of War.

References

Jin, Aowen. 2015. “Is China really scared of ghost films?” BBC News, December 6, 2015. https://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-35008573.

Biography

A.Marti (Andrés G. Martí) is an civil architect with practice both in Norway and Spain. He is the author of True Countries a multimedia art project. Recorded at Sounds-good production in Stavanger, Norway, the music project was produced by Stephane Detréz and Carlos Sánchez. In 2020, A.Marti signed with independent label Handshake Records for distribution.

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