Amidst such a perfect backdrop for his sound, the morning flew by listening to him sing and play his National down there along the river while we did our three-camera shoot. He has a new album out soon, too, so keep an eye peeled for it.
I’ll be sure to post the final edit here but, meanwhile, please enjoy this clip taken in ’09 while Charlie played Cheap Wine at the Victoria Pub in Birmingham, UK:
A tremendous cover by LaMontagne‘s of the Gnarls Barkley song. How did I ever miss this from 2008?
I remember when
I remember I remember when I lost my mind
There was something so pleasant about that place
Even your emotions had an echo
In so much space
And when you’re out there
Without care
Yeah, I was out of touch
But it wasn’t because I didn’t know enough
I just knew too much
Mmm!
Does that make me crazy?
Does that make me crazy?
Does that make me crazy?
probably
And I hope that you are having the time of your life
But think twice, that’s my only advice
Come on now, who do you
Who do you, who do you, who do you think you are?
Ha ha ha, bless your soul
You really think you’re in control?
Well,
I think you’re crazy
I think you’re crazy
I think you’re crazy
Just like me
My heroes had the heart to lose their lives out on a limb
And all I remember is thinking, I wanna be like them
Ever since I was little, ever since I was little it looked like fun
And it’s no coincidence I’ve come
And I can die when I’m done
The crowd and judges went cuckoo for “sticks” at the Soap Factory’s 10 Second Film Festival last night – the announcer and the crowd of thousands continued to chant “sticks” long after it screened, especially after I neglected to claim the win (until later) because I couldn’t hear anything! Gee whiz, what can a fella say but thanks to the Soap Factory, Chris Cloud, Dan Huiting, and Kevin Albertson from MPLS.tv, the local celebrity judges Barb Abney from 89.3 The Current, Chris Pennington, and Robyne Robinson. Yet another thousand reasons why Minneapolis is the greatest city in the universe : )
“Lars can eat carrots really fast” was a crowd pleaser, too, and when i didn’t hear the call to claim the award for ‘sticks’ evidently they chose this as the next winner, which i didn’t go up for either because i STILL couldn’t hear anything! : P
Bergey made some things that inspired me to start tinkering with stills digitally and call it pixeliering, which is a meager attempt at adding an element of painting to digital images:
Click on that first image right there to see before and after examples larger and more in charger:
This is cool and I like the way the digital mixes together with the analog. These are very time consuming to make so I only have a few of them to show but this is one of my favorites, so far:
I was only a little let down when the pilot played Enya over the comm as we lifted off for this chopper pass of Juneau because, after all, i was in the cockpit of an AStar-B2 and we were batting the air over Southeastern Alaska. I was riding shotgun. Z was in the back with Lou, who was shooting.
If i’d had my druthers, i’d have chosen this section of live audio of Jerry and the boys from MSG in September of 1991 so i threw this together quick-like in QTPro as a meager, self-indulgent attempt at redemption – special thanks to http://vimeo.com/tweeprise
That’s correct kids, the new album is finished and nearly in our warm, fuzzy little hands – click, drag and listen! it’s just like a real record player! weeeeeeeeee!!!
The best music you may not have heard of comes from the imagination and inspiration of Conrad Praetzel, an archaeologist-turned-musician living in Northern California, who makes soulful music under the moniker Clothesline Revival.
Collaborating with great musical forces in the world, including Charlie Musselwhite, Sukhawat Ali Khan, Robert Powell, Rounder Records, the field recordings of John and Alan Lomax, among others, Praetzel continues to turn out a unique sound. With timeless qualities of a simpler era and yet also a contemporary tone, his music has a singular style making it hard to categorize. Cinematic and real, perhaps.
They Came From Somewhere is Praetzel’s first collection of all original compositions in over ten years, featuring legendary blues artist Charlie Musselwhite and is being released soon.
Highly recommended listening – some samples and links to purchase available via Conrad’s record label, Paleo Music.
Every now and then a film moves me, lifts and tosses about my sense of the world, of knowing myself and my own culture, let alone the cultures of others and where mine fits in. Then, it sets me down gently, back in the place I was to begin with. Only then, the place looks a whole lot different. Better? Not necessarily. Worse? Not necessarily. Just – different.
One of the most beautiful things about this film is how Ramin Bahrani chose to tell it visually. The cinema of the whole thing is masterful. The relationship between these two unlikely characters is developed elegantly without a hint of muscle-y force.
I could rant on and on about the reasons why I love it, why this is a film to be celebrated but for two reasons I will leave you in peace: 1) I do not wish to dilute it for anyone reading this who has not yet taken it in, and 2) I already did so at length to my pal who brought it to me, thanking him for the gift of spending 91 minutes of my life watching the work of a truly gifted filmmaker who should be an inspiration to generations of filmmakers to come.
We don’t have to ask why we love videos and movies, visual literacy is becoming more important as time goes on.
Produced by Thomas Edison and directed and filmed by Edwin S. Porter, The Great Train Robbery was the first narrative movie ever made.
Thinking about today’s conventions I see in contrast to the silent films of the early years of cinema, the first thing is obvious: there are a lot of talking heads. The cinematic elements that make me love movies, especially silent movies, are mostly lacking, having given way to VFX and complicated dialogue. Cool effects work well in the right places but, as we learned from the great, early filmmakers, a story is best told with a visual, artful use of the tools to lead us to make connections on our own. This is what cinematography is. The American Society of Cinematographers defines cinematography as:
a creative and interpretive process that culminates in the authorship of an original work of art rather than the simple recording of a physical event.
The difference between a good film and a great one is that even with the audio removed a great film stands on its own. The audience can still make sense of the action because the cinematic elements keep moving the story forward.
Silent films didn’t have the luxury of audio tracks to bolster what was happening on the screen. Directors worked feverishly to keep the inclusion of cards with words on them to a minimum as audiences often found them distracting because they broke a certain rhythm to the visual story that was unfolding before them. The fundamentals of editing were more than enough for directors in those early days as they saw a seemingly infinite number of conventions that could be used to craft atmospheres, psychological experiences that led audiences to emotional heights and dramatic lows in response to the visual sequences taking place in front of them.
In contrast to now, when a majority of popular films have so many stylistic choices in common, produced with technology that can shoot high and low, inside and out, leave no stone unturned, no thought of a character unknown, possessing perhaps a similar cultural rhythm about them, too, that can at times make them feel almost like the same movie. Technology has certainly opened up many more options for modern day shooters, myself included. Shooting with a Canon 5D Mark II allows us to shoot cinema quality footage at 24p at a fraction of the cost. However, as in design, there is a time and place for whitespace, which is to say, to not exploit the tools for all they’re worth just for the sake of exploiting the tools for all they’re worth. Does it add to the story? Yes? Keep it. Does it not add to the story? Lose it.
I surely don’t mean to discount the work of the great cinematographers of our age, only to suggest that limitations are what create the opportunities for innovation, not a lack of them. The life pursuits and soaring accomplishments of a legion of great screen directors in the early days of cinema stand testament to it.
So how has the rapid deployment of these new tools impacted our ability to tell a story cinematically? Surely it’s both helped and hindered. A great story is still a great story, regardless of what tools are used to tell it.
thinfilms is pleased to have the honor of working with Gever Tulley this summer in San Francisco.
Gever is a gifted, self-taught computer scientist and developer, having started his professional career at age 16. He is an inspiration to me and to many, many others. His work with the Tinkering School enables children as both learners and teachers, working towards the goal of bringing the next generations back into touch with play, discovery and the other whimsical tools that put our minds in closer natural proximity to innovation.
Here’s Gever’s most recent talk at TED, worth watching because he explains this like no one else can:
If you wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer or a feature film I could tell you the steps to take to do that, but every working documentary filmmaker I know has gotten there through their own unique path. There is no career path.
Audience, the latest media installation from rAndom International, is outta sight – as the viewer walks through it, the mirror-fellows track them, making each viewer the “focus” of the piece as they are reflected in each little mirror:
I’ve met some cool musicians while living in Barcelona and traveling elsewhere. Why not shoot some vids, have some fun and help them spread the word? In that vein, Coldcuts was just created to showcase these pals’ work. This weekend, we shot some tunes with Reuben Palmer in my flat here in the Born:
The best music you may not have heard of comes from the imagination and inspiration of Conrad Praetzel, an archaeologist-turned-musician living in Northern California, who makes soulful music under the moniker Clothesline Revival.
Every now and then a film moves me, lifts and tosses about my sense of the world, of knowing myself and my own culture, let alone the cultures of others and where mine fits in. Then, it sets me down gently, back in the place I was to begin with. Only then, the place looks a whole lot different. Better? Not necessarily. Worse? Not necessarily. Just – different.
One of the most beautiful things about this film is how Ramin Bahrani chose to tell it visually. The cinema of the whole thing is masterful. The relationship between these two unlikely characters is developed elegantly without a hint of muscle-y force.
