In Weeks 1 and 2 of our studio, we embarked on two intriguing field trips: one to ACMI’s “The Story of the Moving Image” and another to explore the “lost” cinemas of Melbourne. These excursions provided rich opportunities to reflect on the concept of “phantom cinema” and the lingering traces left by cinema in its various forms.

The visit to ACMI was particularly fascinating, especially revisiting it after two years. The exhibit showcased the evolution of moving images, tracing cinema’s history from its inception to contemporary forms. What struck me was the multiplicity of the event referred to as the “death of cinema.” This notion aligns with the mythology of the phoenix, which rises from its ashes to be reborn. Cinema, too, has faced numerous “deaths”—from the advent of sound and colour to the rise of television, home video, and digital streaming. Each supposed death has led to a rebirth, transforming and adapting to new technologies and audience behaviours.

The exhibit’s portrayal of cinema’s resilience and adaptability made me ponder the concept of “phantom cinema.” Brian Jacobson, Veronica Paredes, and Christopher Hanson, in their introduction to “Deaths of Cinema,” argue that the medium undergoes constant reinvention, leaving behind ghostly traces of its past incarnations. At ACMI, this was evident in the interactive displays and archival footage, which conjured the ghosts of cinema’s history, reminding us of its ongoing evolution and survival.

The second excursion, exploring the “lost” cinemas of Melbourne, was equally enlightening. Visiting these sites revealed how cinema spaces have been repurposed, leaving behind physical and ghostly phantom-like traces of their former glory. One striking example was the cinema on Russell Street, which has been transformed into an apartment complex. This repurposing signifies a form of death for the cinema as a public entertainment space, yet it continues to exist in a new form.

In contrast, the cinema on Bourke Street, now a Chinese cinema, illustrates how these spaces can survive by adapting to different cultural contexts. Similarly, the two cinemas repurposed into theatres hosting popular plays such as ‘Wicked’ or ‘Moulin Rouge’ demonstrate cinema’s ability to evolve and remain relevant by embracing different forms of entertainment. These examples highlight the ghostly presence of cinema, where its past lives linger in the architecture and cultural memory of the city.

Reflecting on these excursions, I was particularly struck by the resilience and adaptability of cinema. The notion of “phantom cinema” became more tangible, as I saw firsthand how cinema spaces and the medium itself continually transform. The concept of multiple deaths and rebirths, as discussed by Jacobson, Paredes, and Hanson, resonated deeply with these observations. Cinema, much like the ancient phoenix, repeatedly rises from its ashes, finding new ways to captivate audiences and leave enduring traces.

In conclusion, the excursions to ACMI and the “lost” cinemas of Melbourne enriched my understanding of “phantom cinema” and the enduring legacy of the medium. They illustrated how cinema, despite facing numerous threats, continues to reinvent itself, leaving behind both phantom-like  and physical traces that shape our cultural landscape. These field trips underscored the dynamic nature of cinema and its ability to adapt and survive through changing times and technologies.

Reference:
Jacobson, B., Paredes, V. & Hanson, C. 2007, ‘Deaths of Cinema: Introduction’, *Spectator*, no. 27, pp. 5-8.