ENO

2024

Director: Gary Hustwit

Director of Programming: Brendan Dawes

Archive Producer: Alex Wilson

Words: Ben Matthews.

An early moment in Eno shows the artist himself explaining one of his approaches to generative art. He gives instruction to a keyboard software, such as notes to be used and the chance they have of repeating, but from there the program gives the piece the power to continue indefinitely. Though he initiated the process, he’s not completely responsible for where the part might end up going.
He demonstrates this initially to highlight an aspect of his current process, and how the technique is used in his various art installations and his app Bloom. But throughout the film he explores how generative technology has been part of his process for decades, in various different forms. One example shows how an Omnichord loop helped produce part of Deep Blue Day, but in smaller ways it looks at how the time of year or his temperament has altered a piece of music independently of his control.
It’s the idea of a completely fluid approach to art that really stands out in Eno, and while it’s named after him the documentary never limits itself to his history and his music. It’s more concerned with the idea of where it all comes from; the factors that informed his art and the ways in which he has tried to control it.

Eno is the first documentary made about, and in collaboration with, Brian. With full use of his extensive archive, it lets his story unfold in a natural way, with help from generative technology trained to make each screening unique while still retaining the necessary mystery that has surrounded his persona for five decades. It is appropriate that the only way to approach this documentary would be to adapt some of his own ideas, in regards to the structure and content of the film itself.
A result of the ‘brain one’ algorithm, created in collaboration by director Gary Hustwit and digital artist Brendan Dawes, means that any version of the film seen is unique to the individual screening. Sequences are divided by the screen filling up with flashes of different file names and enigmatic coding, indicating brain one’s process of selection to create an emotional throughline. The structure feels complete and satisfying, but it’s exciting to speculate what parts were left out of the screening and which parts may be making their screening debut.
The film runs off an impressive piece of hardware called b-1, which takes the appearance of an old-style editing deck with two reels alongside a selection of simple manual controls. It has been used at screenings to generate this “live” documentary, creating the finished result to be shown straight to the screen with limited interference by its operator and the film’s director.

This technology helps create a conversational feeling between the audience and the subject that’s rare to find in a traditional biographical film. A retrospective documentary about any artist inevitably draws on nostalgia; whether it stems from the audience’s relationship with their work, or from the artist looking back on their own life and career.
Eno goes out of its way to avoid this. brain one helps to create the feeling of a current living exploration of Brian Eno and his work. There are references to his legendary collaboration with David Bowie and Talking Heads, as well as his career with Roxy Music and his celebrated solo discography, they never feel any more integral to the film or Brian Eno than the segments showing something as seemingly trivial as him discussing the inspiration of a seascape or watching Fela Kuti videos on Youtube. Nothing feels obviously inconsequential, and you don’t feel dissatisfied at the end of its average 90 minute runtime.
If this is your introduction to Brian Eno, you might not be able to give the exact details of his life and career, but you will be able to explain his ongoing approach to art, which is ultimately more important to understanding him as a person.