In THE STUDIO
An ongoing film series in partnership with Blue Spiral 1 exploring the studio life of artists. It’s about headspace vs. studio space.
WHAT LIVES IN THE DARK…
I have a lot to say about this piece. I don’t know what to say about this piece. That’s the impact it’s had on me. A while back artist Emma Smith invited me to capture the live performance of a very intense aerial dance piece she was working on. In her own words:
“This aerial dance piece was crafted during a summer of intentional healing, in a place that offered me the space and time to dig deep into old wounds, current patterns, and make room for growth and rest. To this day, this is the piece of art I am most proud of - the most raw expression of my human experience.”
Trigger warning for some of the imagery. It’s a piece that hits hard for me personally given some of the sequences depicting confinement, despair and helplessness. Read into the visual symbolism as you will; Emma’s words speak her intent.
This entire process has taught me patience in a way that I hadn’t previously applied to my work, simply because of the deadline-driven world I came from. (See the comments section where I talk about the project’s methodology and technical considerations.)
Another dynamic this process has highlighted is something I’ve seen with many artists: The notion that you’re supposed to stay in one lane. Painters, paint. Writers write, right? And so on. I’m a photographer, but I also illustrate (@otherdesert). Why can’t artists explore other paths? External pressures to always do what’s expected can be maddening.
I took this piece to be as much about freedom and escape as anything. Maybe that’s fitting for where I’m at with my current headspace. Freedom. You make the work you make whatever form that takes. How you see the world is how you see the world, regardless of medium.
Because I couldn’t shoot the actual event, I suggested to Emma we recreate it beforehand. This would allow a freedom and level of access I wouldn’t get otherwise for fear of blocking the audience. It also marked a return to a more looser style of shooting for me.
Plan was to have her run through several iterations of the performance so I could judge best angles and get my timing down based on her moves.
As I started shooting the first sequence it quickly became apparent that this was an intense performance to capture. The physicality of the sequences was a lot to ask someone to keep repeating, and oh btw, maintain a set level of emotional resonance - inverted.
Plan changed instantly: Stay close, zoom in/out as needed to give context for her major sequences, and return to the face often. Basically, be a mind reader for a performance you hadn’t yet seen.
Entire first take was shot tight without overall context of her stage position. Assumption was that a second take would give me wider establishing shots to cut in along with some super tight close-ups. FF >> The first draft provided the intensity and drama I experienced, but after seeing the second longer take in its entirety, we both felt there was a rawness there that felt right to let rip as is. The final piece is a blending of the only two takes, with the majority of it being the second take
Because her ceramics work embraces imperfection as an essential element, it was the permission I gave myself to let the overall editing and look be equally imperfect. Jittery camera movement, racked focus that maybe gets out of hand at times, and so on are all happy accidents I decided to leave in. Typically, all of that stuff is way more buttoned up and tighter. Here? That risked losing the energy.
Shooting run and gun doesn’t mean shooting recklessly either. It focuses you to be in the moment with your subject, but also *how* you’re shooting them. I got reminded of that shooting the opening slow-mo sequence as Emma swung by inverted, literally within an inch of me and the camera each time. It’s my responsibility to adapt to the artist and not the other way around. , A body in motion can do some damage if you don’t watch out, and her rope didn’t come with air brakes.
The anchor for the piece is the absolutely stunning music of @juliakentcello who was gracious in allowing us to use her music. The quiet passages and intense flourishes of all three tracks add to the drama and definitely affected my editing flow. Seek her out on Spotify et al.
(Special thanks to @township10 for letting us capture the performance there.)