They Shoot Horses #4

As the week wore on our breaks became shorter and shorter and less and less frequent. Our diet consisted almost entirely of caffeine and fast food. The company had accounts at most of the food vendors at the arena. Initially we treated the privilege with respect, but as the days passed we began to abuse the company account more and more, stuffing ourselves with whatever we could fit into our stomachs.

Spencer’s asthma continued to slowly worsen. Finally with two days left in the show, when breaks were all but non-existant and nerves were already frayed Spencer got on a bus to return to Calgary. Nobody could blame him. The job sucked and he had a perfectly legitimate out. The poor guy could barely breathe, even with the SARS mask. That left Alex, James, Aaron and I along with the three local videographers to handle the finals.

By now we understood our jobs very well. We were streamlined. All of us could create DVDs on the fly while shooting a competition and preparing for the next. We were efficient, but we were tired, we were cranky and we were beginning to crack. There were murmmerings of job action, demanding more pay if we were going to work such inhumane hours. By this point we were putting in 15 and 16 hour days, almost all on camera.

There was debate over whether threats would work, or whether it was even the right thing to do. My arm ached, my hand cramped, my feet burned from hours of standing and pivoting in place, my eyes started to glaze over. Alex went crazy, talking gibberish, throwing things, wearing a box on his head. But we kept going.

We ultimately finished the show after midnight on the Saturday. Aaron’s insistence that we just do our best and hope our efforts were noticed worked out. All of us who stayed ended up getting a bonus on our cheques, plus a $100 cash bonus. Unfortunately by the time we made it to the bar there was only time for one round. I woke up at 5:00am and caught a taxi to the airport to embark on my next adventure. Filming a documentary at Burning Man…

Videographer’s lament
Dr. SARS threatens to quit
I need alcohol
Headboard

They Shoot Horses #3

Part of me says that I shouldn’t post everything that happened that week, something about the booze and the weed and other depravity that took place on the peripheries of the job. I’m not presenting a very professional picture of myself or my fellow videographers. Yet, that’s the way it was. We had to cope somehow. The long hours, the fatigue, the hotel, Spencer’s SARS. It seems unjust to leave out the booze and bongs because those are what got us through.

We were total professionals when on the job, but back at the hotel, or in the parking lot between competitions – that was our time.

Coping truly was the name of the game. Many people don’t realize the physical and mental demands of working camera for long periods of time. I certainly didn’t until I started doing it for gigs like this. Following a moving target, smoothly, zooming in and out to keep the rider and horse in 3/4 frame at all times requires constant attention and a delicate touch. By the middle of the week the muscles in my left arm were having spasms and my right hand on the zoom controls cramped up regularly.

Mentally you begin to zone out. Some kind of predatory reptilian instinct takes hold and follows the target for you without conscious effort. Your mind just kind of empties out, the edges of your vision blur. My vision actually began to take on the characteristics of a video image, refresh rate, colour temperature, framing – even without the camera. Its disconcerting to walk up to the concession stand and feeling like you’re watching it on TV.

The video camera became like an appendage and everything began to look like a shot. The distinction between reality and interlaced video began to blur. I knew things had gone too far when Alex started to talk in his sleep.

The honeymoon suite
Alex has nightmares
Losing It