When I first began creating work in
the moving image, I was 17 and had access to a high 8 video camera; at the time
that clunky hand held device seemed state
of the art. I was able to turn the
camera on my friends and solicit stories, and together we would instantly watch
what was just taped critiquing what was said, or how it looked, etc. Part of using such a tool was the ability to
delete on site, and start over if it wasn’t what I wanted, and to have access
to the footage immediately. One year
later I started film school and was instantly taken by analog moving image: the
materiality and tactile nature of the medium provoked so much inspiration. I
had found a new love.
Though I was so taken by this
tactile medium that I could hold in my hands, it didn’t take long for me to
realize that as an artist, analog made so much sense for me based on the way it
looks and feels, but as a storyteller and activist, it was impractical. Sometimes those three identities work in
synchronicity with one another, and other times they clash. This was one of the moments when I realized I
had to make big compromises as an artist and prioritize my activist/
storyteller/ cultural worker self to create within my means. As an undergraduate film student, I couldn’t
imagine attempting a verite piece that followed a subject through their life
with a 16mm camera, primarily from a standpoint of cost, though also taking
into account the extra steps required for processing, and greater potential for
failure. Now with DSLR camera’s much of the work is out
of sync that we create, as we use separate video and audio devices, but at the
time, having access to synced sound made a big difference in the editing
process as well. At that point in my
life, I definitely made a choice that would impact the trajectory of the work I
created and ultimately, my career, and that choice was to prioritize
video. I schlepped cameras all over this
country and Eastern Europe, with a backpack full of mini dv tapes, and a power
button always close to my finger. I
didn’t have to worry about loading and unloading film, and the hustle that goes
with working in analog mediums (extra necessary equipment to have in the field
for switching reels, etc).
As a story teller, I often feel that
I didn’t prioritize the technical aspects of my work enough when I was first
learning the medium, and I believe it’s because the cameras that I used were
pretty much point and shoot in function.
In analog forms that is not even an option. There is so much more work to be done in
order to get an image that works, and reads with intention. There is a beauty to the level of
intentionality that analog promotes, and each shot, as a result, becomes
sacred. Sacred lives in the routine of
waiting to see the images one makes, as you don’t flip the camera over and
decide you don’t like what you shot and do it over. Each shot is so well considered, as you know
there are not multiple chances to get it perfect, both based on consumed
resources and accessibility to the space and the moment. For me, this calls into question all that is
sacred, and the ephemeral nature of our moments on earth. Conceptually analog mediums feel tapped into
those ideas of the fleeting and sacred.
The issue that is focused on so much,
for good reason, is accessibility. These
days one can make a beautiful video or photograph using digital mediums. There are even filters that can make it
appear analog, so why would one spend an inordinate amount of money to create a
feature length movie, when it could be close to free? If one has the funds, the process is what
draws people to create analog work, and the image control.
As an artist, I have been more and
more intrigued by analog film, and feel the need to explore the medium more deeply. I believe it is valuable to have many years
of digital video under my belt to in order to have enough intuition to use the
resources well.
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