Bruce Conner, a San Francisco-based artist known for his assemblages of found objects as well of stock film footage, passed away Monday afternoon. Conner moved to S.F. in 1957 and quickly found his place within the city’’s vibrant Beat community, often borrowing from the town’s Victorian history and mashing-up the the two worlds with assemblages of scraps salvaged from various found materials. He worked in the visual arts, in both 2 and 3 dimensions, but CableCartoon readers will no doubt best remember his legacy in film. While he did not create original footage, Conner still manipulated his found images with the timing and precision required of animation.

Connor’s first film, entitled A Movie (1958), was an avant-garde creation that juxtaposed footage from B-movies, newsreels, soft-core pornography, and other fragments, all set to a musical score. (A Movie was selected in 1991 for preservation by the U.S. National Film Registry at the Library of Congress.) His pioneering work broke many of the rules in traditional narrative film, and set the stage for future generations to experiment with film storytelling and art. Along with his friend Stan Brakhage, Conner paved the way for filmmaking that was more visceral and intuitive than anything old Hollywood could imagine (but that style would eventually be co-opted and rendered almost—-if not quite—commonplace by the subsequent sound and fury of MTV music videos and ADD-editing for summer blockbusters.)

By way of comparison, his 1981 film Mea Culpa, is a work of sampled (before that word existed) animation for a sound collage by David Byrne and Brian Eno. It is serene, amusing, thoughtful and ahead of it’s time—even as is it refers to footage from decades past. (Conner’s films are ditributed by Canyon Cinema, a S.F.-based, independent film cooperative.)

Conner was active in the 1960s Bay Area counterculture scene, designing light shows for performances by Family Dog at the Avalon Ballroom, and in the ’’70s focused on drawing and photography. Art-world recognition resumed in the ’’80s and continued to the present: Conner was included in the 1997 Whitney Biennial, the subject of a touring survey in 1999–2000, and is featured in the current Carnegie International. At Conner’s request, there will be no funeral. He is survived by his wife, American artist Jean Conner, and his son, Robert. (Thanks to K.C. and Art Forum for assistance with this post)