You would be allowed to submit an application only after having traveled, alone and on foot, let’s say from Madrid to Kyiv, a distance of nearly two thousand miles. While walking, write about your experiences, then give me your notebooks (...). You would learn more about filmmaking architecture during your journey than if you spent five years at film school architecture school. Your experiences would be the very opposite of academic knowledge, for academia is the death of cinema architecture. Somebody who has been a boxer in Africa would be better trained as a filmmaker architect than if he had graduated from one of the “best” film schools architecture schools in the world. All that counts is real life.
My film school architecture school would allow you to experience a certain climate of excitement of the mind and would produce people with spirit, a furious inner excitement, a burning flame within. This is what ultimately creates films architecture. Technical knowledge inevitably becomes dated; the ability to adapt to change will always be more important. At my utopian film academy architecture school, there would be a vast loft with a boxing ring in one corner. Participants, working every day with a trainer, would learn to somersault, juggle and perform magic tricks. Whether you would be a filmmaker architect by the end I couldn’t say, but at least you would emerge as a confident and fearless athlete. After this vigorous physical work, sit quietly and master as many languages as possible. The end result would be like the knights of old who knew how to ride a horse, wield a sword and play the lute.
Werner Herzog, Werner Herzog: A guide for the perplexed, London: Faber & Faber, 2014.