Beer before breakfast

I probably shouldn’t admit it here publically for all the Internet to know, but I’ve been drinking even before my sausage and maple syrup. Don’t blame me, blame the infectious aroma of Unibroue’s Chambly Noire. Perhaps its appropriate that I’m going to accompany a friend to an AA meeting to offer my moral support.

Anyways I’m here to announce a transmogrification of my bloggish presence. I realized that though I often have lots to blog about in terms of videography (and I’m sorry for being lax on that front) there is much more that I would, could, should blog about, assuming anyone cares. So I’m revamping – which brings me back to the beer…

Breakfast breaks down to break and fast, it is the completion of the long period without consumption during your sleep. You awake, hungry, and in need of energy. Drinking alcohol at this point is… more effective than usual. I’m really in no mental condition to fuck with WordPress too much at this exact instant. So I’m ranting.

My ultimate goal is to run several parallel blogs with a Big ‘ol Blog that aggregates all of those smaller blogs into one grandiose whole so that those mascochistic enough can subscribe to the lot in a single click and so that I can pour my drivel into my other digital selves in places like Tribe and Facebook. That is coming. Soon.

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

They Shoot Horses #2

I think without the opportunity to observe the equestrian elite in their natural environment I would have gone totally insane. Instead I tried to convince myself that I was engaging in important anthropological work studying horse society. It was actually a rather fascinating peek into a strange, strange world of wealth, competition and appearances. About halfway through it dawned on me to do a study in the vein of Hunter S. Thompson’s Kentucky Derby article, but by then we were far too busy to suffer such distractions.

The job consisted of, you guessed it, shooting horses. We had a platform on one end of the main arena with a view of the whole floor where the horses came out and did their thing. What they did usually consisted of riding in circles, fast, slow, reversing, stopping. From our perspective it was pretty nonsensical, particularly the competition where they make the horse “present” by sticking its neck out for an imaginary carrot while the crowd hoots and hollars to get the animal to perk up its ears. It took us a few days to figure that one out.

Each of us was hooked into a hard drive/DVD burner and a TV monitor so that our boss could watch our shooting. We were either assigned to a particular horse in the competition groups or were assigned a general tape which meant trying to get equal footage of all the riders. The hard drive/DVD was so that we could provide footage to the customers as quickly as possible. No edits, just straight out of the camera. This had its drawbacks, such as when James inadvertantly zoomed in on a girl’s butt during an award ceremony.

As you can hear in the mp3 a degree of sexual frustration was already starting to set into this sausage party by day two. I also mention the pub we tried to get to for lunch when time permitted. There were a couple of days where I have to admit we came back a little shy of the legal limit, but I always say that a little bit of liquor makes for smoother pans.

Conditions at the show were pretty crummy. There was a second arena that usually only had one shooter stationed there, effectively stranding them there for the duration of the competitions. Spencer quickly discovered that he was severely allergic to horses and had to take a trip to the hospital for an asthma attack. At the beginning of the week our days were about 12 hours long with breaks throughout, but soon that would seem like a luxury as the pace of the show picked up.

And of course every night we returned to the same seedy hotel…

Here’s some audio from the trenches.

This is a small town
Etnographic notations
The origins of Dr. SARS
The flying Elvises

They Shoot Horses Don’t They?

While I was in Regina shooting a horse show for some clients I made irregular audio journal entries using my iriver mp3 player. Rather than transcribe the whole mess I thought I’d just post the files along with a bit of context and additional descriptions when necessary…

My friend and fellow videographer Alex brought me in on this project last summer. He’d taken a job shooting horses (with a camera, not a gun) at Spruce Meadows for an equestrian video company. I’d passed on the job earlier due to other commitments, but I had some spare time to do a few days and came on board. The work consisted of filming horses as they traversed the jumping course and logging the horse number and competition against the time code on the tape. Nothing too punishing. We were paid a flat $150 per day, some days working as little as five hours.

Life was good. When she asked us to come out to Regina to shoot a week long show for $175 per day plus room and board we said yes. When I told fellow videographers Josh R. and Josh W. both of them warned me not to work for the company. Josh W. told me the only way they’d made it though the year before was by getting hammered every night.

Of course I ignored their warnings. I needed money for my upcoming trip to Burning Man where I’d be shooting a documentary with a friend of mine who works for the CBC. Plus things had gone smoothly at Spruce Meadows, the days might be a bit longer in Regina, but really how bad could it be? I figured R. and W. were just whiners…

Prestige

The film and television industries are by and large prestige industries. That is they are appealing, exciting, high status industries to work in. Being able to say that you’ve worked with Scott Bakula (true) or Samuel L. Jackson (almost true) carries with it a certain degree of pride and cultural power. After all movies and television shows make up our cultural mythology, the heroes and villains by which we derive our values, our world view, even our identities. There is a lot more money to be made in the energy sector, in telecommunications or countless other industries. Hollywood despite all its glitz, glamour and excess actually accounts for very little of the wealth out there, but its so conspicuous and loud that we’re bedazzled by it and being a part of that spectacle is for some highly appealing.

Personally my desire to be a part of the entertainment industry is rooted farther back in time in the sacred traditions of the shaman and the storyteller. Stories and myths are what define a culture. They are tools for teaching life skills, potentially providing wisdom, courage, inspiration… Starlets with perky breasts have more to do with ratings and box office dollars, but that’s part of the industry too and frankly its sometimes a welcome distraction.

Speaking of distractions let’s get back to the issue at hand.

Since this is a prestige industry there are a lot more people who want in than there demand requires. Film & television is always an employer’s market. As a result employers can get away with murder, treating their employees like total crap, at least until they reach a certain level of proficiency and recognition at which points the tables start to slowly turn. Near the bottom of the barrel, fresh out of film school (or having not even gone) are videographers like me. At the bottom are PAs. Poor bastards.

A professional, established videographer can demand anywhere from $500 to $1500 per day or more for shooting depending on their skill, equipment and market demand. People like me who are just starting out will work for free one day, for $20/hr another, food, or a $175 day rate, all of which are blatant rip offs. Often you get no breaks, or you may be asked to work under appalling conditions. More often than not people who don’t pay professional rates also don’t operate in a professional manner. They can be thoroughly disorganized, often they don’t even know what they want you to do. “You’re the professional, you figure it out.”

On the plus side you will make money and more often than not you’ll make more than you would at McDonalds. You will also learn your equipment inside and out. You will learn what works and what doesn’t. You’ll learn how to be prepared and how to streamline and simplify your workflow so that you can accomplish more with less. You’ll learn how to negotiate and what compromises you’re willing to make (and which you won’t). If you’re lucky you’ll also make contacts that can help you in the future. “Remember that music video I shot for you for free?”

Think of it as a kind of solo apprenticeship, getting started, getting the tricks of the trade down deciding whether or not its something you can see yourself doing in the future. This is serious stuff. If you want to get into the photography union you need lots of prior camera experience, and when you start as a camera assistant you will be getting paid the same or less than the kid behind the counter at McDicks. Everybody wants to be the director or the cinematographer and this is how they cull the weak ones from the herd.

Future Posts

This is part placeholder, part reminder for myself as to what I will bring you in the upcoming days and weeks. The industry is slow right now affording me time to write regularly about things that have happened in the past, explaining how I got to where I am today. So without further ado, the teasers…

Bling & Booty: Shooting a hip hop show in suburbia
They Shoot Horses Don’t They?: I never want to see another horse
Making Ends Meet: The things you do between gigs
Buyer’s Remorse: Picking a camera
Ultimate Portability: Beginning the Standby Project
Ruining Their Special Day: Just another reason that shooting weddings sucks
In the Jungle: Guerrilla filmmaking, tactics and incidents
Dust & Drugs: Documenting at Burning Man
Thump Thump: Trying to get exposure at an illegal rave
Vlogging It: First attempts at transcending the talking head vlog
Bureaucracy: The wonderful world of corporate videos
Don’t Worry About the Asbestos: Hazards of the job

Egads, my work is cut out for me. Good thing I have nothing better to do right now.

Cameras from the Sky

The following is the story of how I got my first video camera. I expect some of you to be upset, filled with thinly veiled contempt and envy, you’ll decry that I did nothing to earn it and am therefore not worthy. Or maybe you’ll just slap your knee and say “Man that’s cool.” Either way…

It all began with a note slipped under my door.

The letter explained that apartments in my building were being considered for use in a TV movie and was asking whether I’d be interested in loaning out my apartment should it be deemed suitable for the film. Of course I immediately called the LM (locations manager) and told him that I’d be all too happy to have him look at the place.

When he came over I told him about my efforts at becoming a filmmaker as he wandered the apartment snapping reference photos with his digital camera. We talked about the logistics of film locations as well as the Director’s Guild of Canada. I told him I’d just completed my certification to work on union sets. He asked me if I’d be willing to let them use the apartment. I said yes.

A short while later he came again with the director, art director and DOP in tow to look at the place. It was kind of weird. The film industry was here in my living room. What was going on? A few days later the LM came again with the papers and went over the details. Movers would take all of my things out of the apartment, they would repaint it, build a false wall, then after filming it would all be put back and repainted to my specifications. I would be put up in a hotel for the duration, paid a per diem to cover my daily expenses and given a generous rental fee for my space. On top of it all the LM asked me about my availability to work during the shooting of the film.

Everything went smoothly and at the end of it all I had a hefty cheque and a new contact in the industry. I used the money to buy a used Sony DSR-PD150 and a G5 PowerMac which I shortly traded in for a PC. Of course a month afterwards a friend of a friend had a PD170 for sale for less than I got the PD150 for.

So yes, I was just handed a stack of money for letting my space become a part of television history and used it to buy my way into videography. I’ve probably made back what I spent on the camera through various jobs and projects and nothing quite compares with the freedom of owning your own personal gear. Its always accessible, you know it intimately and you get the chance to experiment and play with more freedom. Not to mention a camera is a money making machine. Keep your antennas open and you’ll find plenty of work. Unfortunately a lot of it won’t be what you expect as future entries will demonstrate…

There is Such a Thing as Free Lunch

Whoever said “There’s no such thing as a free lunch.” obviously never visited the topsy turvy world of video production. If they had they would probably be appalled at just how often “normal” people have to pay for the food they eat.

A few weeks ago a photographer friend of mine called me leaving his usual ambiguous style of message wondering whether I’d be interested in doing some video work for one of his clients. I have to say, befriending a portrait photographer is one of the best things I’ve done for my career. For some bizzare reason people tend to assume that if you’re proficient with one box with a lens on it then you’re proficient with all devices blessed with convex ground glass.

After a prolonged game of phone tag we finally connected and I found out what was up. One of his clients was in the early stages of starting a fashion and interior design company and looking for film and video to help promote the new brand. We were to meet at a chotchy restraunt downtown to discuss the details and get acquainted.

I will begin by saying that I do not understand the fashion community. As I sat in my Value Village turtleneck sweater and Dickie’s pants with the crotch blown out I couldn’t help but think of Blue Steel and Derek Zoolander. When the designer asked me about my Ushanka I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was from the V&V Boutique.

My photographer friend was well dressed and sipping martinis, he’s used to fashion shoots and fashion people and giving him even more of an edge he worked as a flight attendant for a decade. I on the other hand haven been loading baggage into the bellies of aircraft for nearly three years. Different worlds. Initially the crew consisted of the two of us, the designer, the business agent/designer behind it all and her statuesque boyfriend. It was like infiltrating the beautiful peoples’ club and being discovered, but nobody was brave enough to escort me out.

The business agent, a beautiful asian with steel blue eyes (there it is again!) had no idea what she wanted in terms of video. A splash page for her website? A runway model walking? A tour of a redesigned house? Something I’ve been realizing as I do more and more of this videography thing is that most people aren’t hiring you just to shoot, they’re hiring you to come up with the creative concept as well. That’s great, but they rarely provide you with much direction and often don’t understand that creativity is work too. Hours of storyboarding is just as intensive as lugging a camera around.

Things degenerated when the models finally arrived, two hour late. The stereotypes in this case were true. A few words;

Flightly
Bubbly
Scaterbrained
Superficial
Erratic
Daft

In any case at the conclusion of the meal the business agent proceeded to pay for everything. Had I known I may have ordered a few more beers. Even so I felt a bit guilty. There was no solid plan for me to do anything for them. I don’t even really know what they want. But a free meal is a free meal especially when you don’t know when the next contract is coming in.

The designer gave me a ride home in his SUV, apologizing for how messy it was despite the fact that it was spotless. I swear it still had new car smell. He was afraid of the cold, afraid of muggers (here?!) and generally comfortable on in the ivory silken tower of high society. They had lamented about how there was no real fashion scene here, that Toronto, New York, Paris were the places to be. I bit my tongue.

I haven’t heard from them in nearly a month, so the lunch can truly be considered free, unless you count enduring the squawking of models as payment. I’ve learned that in this world just because you’ve talked about something doesn’t mean its going to happen, but a free lunch is a free lunch.

Then There Was Light…

Images that tell stories. Its one of our oldest forms of communication. Rolling forwards from the cave paintings at Lascaux to the clicking, flickering images of Edison‘s movie projector (is there anything Edison didn’t invent?) and into the new world of high definition video the image has long been favoured for telling stories, illustrating events and ideas and stirring emotions.

I am a freelance videographer. My business is capturing light as it bounces off of the world, encoding it, turning it into little electrical pulses and manipulating it for the entertainment, education and hopefully enlightenment of the masses.

The videographer is the whore of the modern image & sound factory that is mass media. Wannabe directors and DOPs we bow and serve and suck at whatever teat will sustain us on our journey towards the great campfire. Its undignified, sometimes absurd, but its a means to a noble end. Many will try, but few will succeed.

What will follow is an account of the hero’s journey as he struggles against overpowering odds and forces of banality, politics, backwardness, greed and plain old stupidity. The goal? Directing feature films for a living.

Your protagonist’s feet are already treading down the path towards light, glory and fame. There have already been a few harrowing adventures and it is with these that we will begin. It is my hope that film affectionados, aspiring filmmakers and future fans will take some knowledge and inspiration from these ramblings as I navigate the minefield of wedding videos, short films, vlogging and film school. Learn, laugh, lambaste if you must. Alliterate if at all possible. Most importantly, enjoy.

The journey begins. Twenty nine point nine seven frames per second. (If you’re good I’ll explain why it isn’t just a nice round number like thirty.)