Saturday, January 25, 2014

How to (actually) Support Artists

Most people in their 20s today find themselves in a frustrating, drawn-out transition, especially the artistic types.  No longer a child but not fully an adult, with enough creative skills to be taken (mostly) seriously as an artist, but lacking enough life skills to be laughed out of banks and non-creative professional businesses, being in one's 20s at this point in history is an awkward endeavor.

And yet, despite continued economic instability, there are generally good feelings towards artists, and plenty of good will.  Many an article and blog argues that artists should be supported and encouraged, and that young people shouldn't give up on their dreams.  But there is a great divide between the cultural belief in the work of artists, and an artist's actual ability to succeed.

What most creatives need is not a pat on the back and a thumbs-up -- they need analytic skills.  They lack these skills because their brains are wired in a different way -- just as you wouldn't expect an accountant to suddenly know how to be a DJ or a dancer, you wouldn't expect a painter to suddenly know how to file insurance claims or understand the process behind financing a new car.  Accounting, DJing, dancing -- these are all skills that must be learned, and most people know pretty early on what type of person they are: creative or analytic.  A few manage to be an even mix of both, and the rest of us glare at them with rampant envy.  Therefore, most people begin to nurture either their creative talents or their analytic skills, but hardly ever both.

In the past, most people have been forced into analytic work, whether they were wired that way or not.  Number-crunching sorts of job pay, and they pay consistently.  Besides manual labor, it's the most dependable sort of profession to get into.  It's only within the last century that wide-spread professional artistry has been encouraged.  While this is absolutely not a bad cultural step, it does present a bit of a problem: most artists aren't going to make money at their art, even if they're extremely talented.  This has to do with a number of things: lack of marketing skills, unwillingness to commodify their art, lack of access to buyers, or, sometime, an actual lack of creative skill.

Thus, most artists have to do low-level manual labor or analytic work to supplement their creative work -- or, in some cases, to support themselves completely.  Most artists, however, view this supplemental work as short-term, believing (wrongly or rightly) that their creative work will take off any day and launch them to a level of financial success that will allow them to devote the entirety of their time to creative endeavors.

Again, this simply doesn't happen for most artists.  Just as few people become the CEOs of Fortune 500 companies, so too do very few artists achieve that level of financial success.  The difference (again) is that lower-level employees in manual labor or analytic professions (let's just call them "number-crunchers") still make, if not an impressive, then at least a decent wage: enough to support themselves and live comfortably, if not extravagantly.  Historically, these jobs have been portrayed as soul-sucking corporate positions that cost employees their dignity, integrity, and passion.  While I think it largely depends on the specific company a number-cruncher works at, it is a mostly an exaggerated view.

Which leads us to a tangential issue: the great divide between creative and analytic professions.  There is a stereotype associated with both: number-crunchers often view artists as lazy, unpredictable moochers who don't contribute their fair share to society, especially in terms of things like taxes while artists often view number-crunchers as soulless automatons with sticks up their asses.

While there may be a grain of truth to both stereotypes, they are not useful descriptions of either group.  In fact, the great divide between the creatives and the number-crunchers hurts both parties greatly.  In order to survive, creatives need analytic skills: they need to know how to do their taxes as independent contractors receiving non-taxed cash payments from clients, how to sign up for the correct health insurance, how to avoid lawsuits, how to follow health and building codes in their studios, how to invest their money so they have savings to fall back on when projects are scarce.  Artists need encouragement, yes, but more than that, they need the support of the analytic community.  Not as charity, not as hand-outs, but as a give-and-take exchange between creative intelligence and analytic intelligence.

The same goes for the number-crunchers.  While there are creative aspects to most 9-to-5 jobs, it can be somewhat soul-sucking to repeat the same motions day after day, week after week, routine after routine, for twenty, thirty, or forty years.  Creative expression -- or even simply observing creative expression done by others -- is a necessary spark of otherness in a world otherwise filled with repetition.  Analytics need artists just as much as artists need analytics.  The problem occurs when one group thinks they are better than the other: number-crunchers for being dependable and disciplined, and creatives for being spontaneous and passionate.

So, if you truly want to support an artist, help them out with their taxes.  Tell them what they need to know before they go into a bank to ask for a car loan.  Introduce them to financial managers or business consultants to help them cultivate the professional side of their creative work.  And creatives -- understand the importance of business, law, and procedure in keeping employees (and independent contractors) safe, accountable, and productive.  Give and take.  Teach and learn.  Grow together, and develop the analytic (or creative) side to yourself you never knew you possessed.  You may just find a hidden talent, or find that your creative expression has sharpened with the clarity that comes from analytic process, and vice-versa.

Monday, January 20, 2014

Film Spotlight: "Hadeas"

Supporting emerging filmmakers, a spotlight on the short film "Hadeas"
article by E.R. Womelsduff



Concept art by Mark Kopitzke


In a world where even professional filmmakers cut corners, "forget" to acquire permits, and skirt the law to get a shot, the team behind "Hadeas" is out to do things the right way.  Trying to raise most of their capital on Kickstarter, the proposed production budget is $21,500 for a 20-minute film.  While much of the budget will be spent on costumes, props, sets, and on-screen elements, the rest will be used for permits, lodging, equipment rental, transportation (they have to truck a crew of 20 from L.A. to Merced, CA), food, post-production, and -- here's where they get the stamp of approval -- actually paying the cast and crew.  In a down economy, it's hard to ask for more than the "essentials" to get a movie produced, but the Hadeas team believes strongly in not only encouraging artists, but paying them what they're worth.


Hadeas is not your typical short film.  While the synopsis is very cerebral and a little out there (a pitted black rock is a main character, after all), the team behind the concept has an impressive array of film experience, from television (one producer worked on Sweden's Next Top Model), agencies (the other producer works at Worldwide Production Agency, which reps producers, cinematographers, and production designers), and international feature film (the DP has shot on five continents, and lived on three).


Why is a film like this worth supporting?  Two reasons:

  1. The team believes in the importance of the story they are telling.
  2. The team has a sustainable filmmaking philosophy.
Here's what I mean: there are many films, whether shorts or features, that are produced to either A) cost as little as possible while yielding the highest return on investments or B) show off the filmmaker's autocratic artistry, to the detriment of the story itself.  The Hadeas team, while dealing with an unusual story format (again, most films don't have an inanimate object as a main character), are creating the film as a team, and with a story they can rally around and fight for together.  This is a far cry from being hired the night before a project goes into production, having no idea what the story is about (or caring much), and simply working the gig in order to network and obtain free food.  


Concept art by Mark Kopitzke


This leads us to the second point -- the Hadeas philosophy.  It's actually quite simple, and yet not particularly commonplace: work as a team, pay people what they're worth, and create a community out of the filmmaking experience.  This goes beyond just the cast and crew and actually incorporates the people who live in the areas that the film is being shot at.  As they say on their Kickstarter page, "making Hadeas is about more than just telling a good story with the latest gadgets. It's about creating a good experience for everyone involved. Whether they be crew or someone in the small town of Merced lending a hand, we want to make sure that we leave a good impression."  

Director Randy May elaborates, "My role as a leader is very important, but I can't make this film alone.  From producers to camera assistants, each person on this film has a vital part to play.  With Hadeas, we wanted to create an atmosphere where where each member of the team could take pride in the project."  Producer Megan Prescott agrees: "With filmmaking--and work in general--there should be a respect and camaraderie with those you work with. It's something that I have cherished on every film set I've ever been on. The people matter first, the story second. For me it has to be that way to tell the most honest, truthful story possible."  Her co-producer, Becky Train, confirms this worldview: "When on a tight budget it's easy to put a priority on equipment or other things and take the artists working with you for granted.  My philosophy is service. If everyone serves each other while working, things will work out. Service melds minds, encourages hearts, and pushes people forward."

So just what is Hadeas?  The word itself is made up, a play off "Hadean," derived from Hades, the Greek god of the underworld, and also referring to the first geological period of earth's history.  In terms of the film, however, "At its core it is a drama.  But there are trace elements of horror to be found as well," says May.  "It won't jump out and scare you, but there's some pretty intense emotion being portrayed and it really taps into a part of who we are that's terrifying to behold."  


Concept art by Mark Kopitzke


Because Hadeas has very little dialogue, an abnormal format, and characters that you may only see for short periods of time, it's a hard film to explain.  And making a film, especially with the types of visual restrictions  the Hadeas team has placed on themselves (such as never showing a character's face), is difficult.  "We’ve all worked on badly organized, underfunded films. They are brutal. We want to make sure we have the resources we need to make this thing happen," says Tuin.  "Randy and I were storyboarding a scene in which a conversation is happening between a mother and daughter. They’re walking down a path and having a short conversation. As Randy and I were storyboarding this scene we realized it would very difficult to shoot without their faces. Our immediate reaction was simply to move the camera lower, include their hands and so on. But that choice didn’t actually make sense. We realized we needed to make choices that justified why we didn’t see the characters faces. The audience has to walk away from this film with no doubt that we had to tell it that way."


Concept art by Mark Kopitzke


Tuin recently returned from the Philippines where he was shooting a documentary in the slums of Manila.  He's learned to adapt to extreme challenges and unplanned emergencies -- including street riots breaking out while filming.  "Randy and I have been able to put lots of energy into planning out each shot and carefully constructing the blueprint of the film. But the main reason we do this is so that we can more effectively improvise when on set. Real life is doing its own thing and sometimes it gets in the way of our plans. Because we know what film we’re making, we will be able to absorb unexpected situations and come out with a film that stays true to the original intent."

The most important aspect of the film, however, are the characters.  "The characters are the foundation of Hadeas.  Their experiences are reflections of our own.  We find solidarity in their struggles, failures and successes," says May.  Prescott says the film is, at its foundation, about good and evil.  "It's a tension that touches all of us all the time. We want to to tap into this reality in an unconventional way. Randy crafted this story at a transitional point in his life. For Randy, Hadeas is personal. Only he could tell this story and I am happy to be on this journey with him."

For more information on the film, the team, or the Hadeas Kickstarter Campaign, check out the teaser and links below.




Filmmaker Bios


Randy May - Director/Producer
A native of Merced, CA, Randy first discovered his love of storytelling while pretending to be Luke Skywalker on the playground when he was six years old. Since then, he has spent a lot of time in cold, dark, theaters learning how to make movies. After high school he moved to Los Angeles where he has spent the past several years honing his craft and establishing himself as both a storyteller and director. When he's not working on a film, you'll probably find him playing strategy boardgames, spending time in the library, or even still pretending to be Luke Skywalker. Just kidding. Well, kind of.
theotherrandymay.com
Ty Tuin - Cinematographer/Producer
The boy in the library buried in the history section, reading encyclopedias as novels. The one somewhere in the middle of the orchestra busily sawing away at the violin. The one on stage in the hip hop dance. The one behind the camera vigilantly studying the edges of the frame. That was Ty. After acting and musical performance created a solid base of craft, Ty moved to LA to pursue the art of cinematography, but didn’t stay long. After motion picture work on 5 continents, living on 3, he studied the art of capturing and molding a story in an impacting way. Every film is an opportunity to explore the possibilities of telling a story through the light within a frame.
tytuin.com
Becky Train - Producer
Becky has been an industry professional since 2009. After filming a promo video for a friend when she was 16, she realized she could spend the rest of her life telling stories in a visual format. Since then, she has worked on commercials including the award winning Superbowl commercial “Sling Baby”, on TV shows such as Sweden’s Next Top Model, and on an upcoming feature film at Dreamworks Animation. As a producer, her goal is to serve the crew and make the bumpy road of production as smooth and fun as possible.
Megan Prescott - Producer
Megan considers herself a native of both coasts having been born and raised in Richmond, VA, and moving to the San Francisco Bay area in high school. A video camera on her 13th birthday ranks as one of her all-time favorite gifts; a gift that spurred a passion for storytelling. Since graduating from Azusa Pacific University with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in Cinematic Arts, Megan now works as the commercial coordinator at Worldwide Production Agency in Los Angeles where they represent Cinematographers, Production Designers and Producers. She loves the collaborative life of a filmmaker and encouraging others to bring their vision to the screen. When not working Megan enjoys hiking, watching weird documentaries, large dogs and most things non-fiction.
Mark Kopitzke - Concept/Storyboard Artist
Having graduated with his B.A. in Theater, and currently attending PCC for further study of visual art, Mark is an artist who is driven to bring another's stories and characters to life, and thrives within this intersection of media we call film. Mark believes that the process of creating the work itself, and the journey of artists collaborating, are both just as important as the finished piece. He has embarked on that journey with short film makers, non-profit-theater-go-getters, opera aficionados, new play developers, and Australia-touring-big-band-wrangling-radio-announcers.