Annabelle jankel biography examples

First it was Little Women, then Zulu, then Gone With the Wind, and let’s not forget 2001: A Space Odyssey, but back as a teenager, I yearned for winter Saturday afternoons at the buttress-roofed Hampstead cinema the Everyman, bathed in the orange glow from electric bar heaters mounted inches from the ceiling, eyes stinging from a miasma of smoke, watching Bergman’s The Seventh Seal and watching Antonioni’s Zabriskie Point. Sunday afternoons were spent at The Roundhouse Implosion, an iconic London landmark, immersed in live music from upcoming bands like Tyrannosaurus Rex.

And, oh yes, Elvis Costello “Watching the Detectives,” 1977, the Stiff Records Tour at the Hammersmith Palais: Elvis and Wreckless Eric, Madness, Ian Dury and the Blockheads. Still got the merch, loved the slogan on the tee: “If It Ain’t Stiff, It Ain’t Worth a Fuck.” And segueing into 1978 and our “Accidents Will Happen” Elvis Costello animated music video, which culminated at the University College London Architecture Department – the place in London with computer graphics tools – shooting live-action 16 mm with a Bolex of a green vector read-out of Elvis and the Attractions off a monitor, the graphic composition inspired by the Piet Mondrian home-built bookcase at the one-bedroom flat in Ben Nicholson’s house that was home for a year after a year squatting on a houseboat in Chelsea. Punk was born that year.

Our animation studio Cucumber Studios involved creating an experimental filmmaking environment on site – a dark room, an early computer-operated rostrum camera, an ersatz optical printer, drawing on film with fibre optic, 3M half-silvered mirrors and projections. We’re talking 8 mm, 16 mm, 35 mm, multiple exposures – no video at this point.

And then the music video for “Reasons To Be Cheerful, Part 3” and my brother Chaz Jankel’s “Questionnaire” – overdue thank you to genius Laurie Anderson for the lightbulb inspiration from her live show.

When Chaz met Laura Weymouth

Andy Prisbylla/ June 22, 2022

Like it or not, we’re all casualties of the cola wars. What began as a pissing contest between beverage barons PepsiCo and the Coca-Cola Company in 1902 eventually became a cultural phenomenon in the mid-1980s. With Coca-Cola’s sugary supremacy challenged in a series of blind taste tests, combined with Pepsi’s subliminal marketing of American patriotism through its red, white, and blue branding, New Coke was introduced in early 1985—a new formula engineered to replace the original company recipe. Within three months, the product was pulled due to overwhelming backlash from the public, the original formula reinstated as Coca-Cola Classic. This led to a boost in sales, with industry insiders speculating that the “great new taste” was nothing more than a marketing scam used to generate renewed product interest. Whatever the motive, the original Coke was here to stay—even if it never really left. Now it was just a matter of selling it back to the young audience who dominated ‘80s consumer culture. While previous promotional campaigns focused on virtuous Americana, marketing mavens now needed something more radical and irreverent. At the time, a certain computer generated media personality created solely to showcase music videos was becoming quite popular. Only this image wasn’t computer generated at all, and it was born from a distinctly anti-corporate sensibility. In 1986, Coca-Cola launched its “Catch the Wave” campaign: the new face of Coke belonged to Max Headroom. 

The subversive paradox created when Max Headroom turned pitchman for corporate cola is just one of many in the career of Rocky Morton and Annabel Jankel. While the creative duo had nothing to do with the Coke campaign, their creation was now leaving an imprint on the consumer landscape. As post-punk pioneers with a heavy situationist bent, Morton and Jankel took being on the cutting edge of pop culture seriously. But the method of

Biography