_posted in art | dayedayerocks | filmschool | lessons learned | 24 January 2011

At the opening of the year I emailed an artist whose work I really wanted to feature in my latest short film: Lwa, A Chorus of Voices. We finally connected Saturday morning and it was one of those rare moments you have with a complete stranger that makes you feel safe in sharing your art, safe that people understand what you're creating.
Cozbi Cabrera creates munecas, lovely handmade dolls with vintage fabrics, clothing, quilts and illustrates. I linked her to the Kickstarter page to give her a bit of background and why a film about Haitian Vodou. While she was excited about my "voice" and what I'm exploring, she was hesitant to share a muneca for a film about Haitian Vodou.
At the very moment she said it, it clicked in my head that it's one of the stereotypes that I never honestly thought about... Vodou Dolls. There, of course, are many stereotypes about Haitian Vodou I actively want to counter in my film, by not even addressing them. I'm so far from removed from them, but the truth is, the majority of what people know about Vodou are the stereotypes. And Cozbi's experienced that. I saw the muneca, as something precious to my protagonist, Odessa. It would be a treasured thing given to her as a child or gifted to her on her 16th birthday. Cozbi's experience with vintage dolls has been wrapped in people's stereotypes of race and culture. Her concern is more than valid.
As an artist I completely respect her point of view. It goes directly to my own thoughts about creating and what responsibility one has to what they create and how it lives in the world. It also speaks to holding one's ground on what they will actively participant in as an artist. Yes, I could have just ordered the doll and not given her any inkling of what I was planning to do with it, but what kind of artist would I be in that situation? I would get what I want at the price of another artist's convictions.
She explained that in the past people quickly attached a meaning to the dolls (e.g. Vodou dolls), when they have real meaning on their own. This I can appreciate. This I can understand. So no custom made Cozbi muneca. However, she offered up a wonderful solution. Cozbi will be designing a quilt to decorate Odessa's bedroom, a quilt created with vintage fabrics. For Odessa, it can be a tie to her past, her family and her country. For me, it's connecting with a like minded artist, finding support in unknown places.
Cozbi's willingness to find a solution to help me in creating my vision was heartening. It was a necessary moment when I'm stuck in the the realities and details of filmmaking, like hiring crew, dealing with fundraising, all the while holding fast to the voice of my film. It's a nice reminder that in all the extra stuff, the universe gives back just a little to remind you that you're doing just fine.
_posted in dayedayerocks | film | filmschool | 19 January 2011

A few weeks ago I sent out an email to a few classmates asking if they'd be interested in helping me put together a video for a Kickstarter Campaign. It was the first Saturday back to school, and one of only four free weekends we'll have free until the 4th week in March. We were already griping about our class schedules, along with all the rewriting, preproduction, casting and location scouting we all have to do. With all that I wasn't expecting too many people to be able to make it and who could blame them if they didn't.
I spent the night rewriting my script of items I was hoping to talk about in the video, as well as finalizing the content on the Kickstarter page. By this time I had resolved the issues I've had with asking people to monetarily back my work. My contribution to most projects have always been my time and skills. In the long run, when you measure that time/skill combination in dollars, you've given so much more than you could have monetarily. It's time you'll never get back and time that you stole from one part of your life to give to another part or to someone else. That's serious business.
The morning of the shoot I drove around to a few different markets to find some colorful food, bought breakfast for my crew and picked a few people up. By call time we had a full crew. Seven of my classmates and one 2nd year MFA were up for a shoot. It's a great thing to be surrounded by creative and talented people, it's a tremendous thing to be surrounded by people who are also supportive and willing to give something as precious as time.
Six hours later we had great conversations about the differences in Jamaican and Indian curries, how many rolls of film we're going to buy for our next films, watched a classmate struggle through cutting scallions, cooked a meal together, filmed my talking head and just had a ton of fun. Thanks guys. I owe you some time/skills combination in the future.
_my Kickstarter Crew
Director : Dehanza Rogers
Directors of Photography : Dylan Chapgier & Alejandro Salinas-Albrecht
Assistant Camera : Eben Portnoy & Vanita Shastry
Assistant Director : Iyabo Kwayana
Gaffer/Grip : Shadae Smith
Sound : Ryan Moody
Editor : Dehanza Rogers
Production Design : Shirley Kim & Vanita Shastry
Still Photographer : Shirley Kim
_posted in dayedayerocks | filmschool | 07 January 2011
The new quarter started on Monday.
This is the quarter we produce, finance and direct a six-ten minute short film. That sounds simple enough, but it's within the hollywood model of filmmaking. It's not shot on a 5D and it's not you and few of your friends getting together on a weekend to film.
Like our first short, we're assigned a crew for key positions: assistant director, director of photography, assistant camera, gaffer, mixer and boom, from our fellow classmates.
For the next four weeks we're taking four courses. The cinematography course includes one on one meetings with the professor, director and dp of each film. We're taking a costume design course, symposium and a preproduction course, which is twice a week. The preproduction course is comprised of the 7 people who crew for each other.
During these four weeks, we're also in preproduciton for our films: location scouting, hiring additional crew, still working on our scripts, working on character development, searching for funding, casting and then rehearsing, among a host of other things.
After the four weeks, we are thrown into a rotation of 3 day shoots, fridays to sundays, for 7 consecutive weeks.
My production group is lead by Gyula Gazdag, Hungarian filmmaker and Artistic Director of the Sundance Filmmakers Lab. We had our first production meeting Tuesday last and I was instantly smitten with Gyula.
_reasons i'm smitten with gyula
Number 01.
Create something that doesn't exist and the entire universe is against everything that is being created. You must exercise power for things to happen.
Number 02.
We should have seven different gods in our group. We need to create something in spite of all the different forces in the universe.
Number 03.
If you can convince everyone in your crew and cast about the necessity of this film being made, then the forces will multiply.
Number 04.
You don't need to know everything to be a director. You need to know what your goal is and to inspire everyone who works on the project. Inspire to get something better than what you initially recognized.
Number 05.
Asking the right questions, is more important than having the answers.
Number 06.
Your responsibility is to your vision.
Number 07.
Every single story and film has its own rules.
_posted in dayedayerocks | filmschool | lessons learned | 21 November 2010

My first quarter at UCLA's MFA Film Production/Directing program is about to end. It started about 9 weeks ago, but it honestly feels like 9 months.
The program consists of 21 students total, with 18 directing students and 3 cinematographers. The program is traditionally 4 years long, a few have completed it in three, there are a few who are "5th year MFAs." Our first year is highly structured, our classes are picked for us, we're placed in shooting groups and you deal with the crew you're given.
_open 24/7/365
The thing I've had to come to terms with the most is the fact that this thing I love, this thing that I've always made time for, be it the weekend or a few hours a week, is now my 24/7/365. Film is no longer the thing I want to do or the future plan, it's the thing I'm actively doing. It's absolutely amazingly exciting and it's fucking frightening. It's a huge paradigm shift to take hold of and be comfortable with the dream being a reality. So instead of finding time to write or edit or film on a Saturday for a few hours, I should in all honestly be spending at least twelve hours a day on learning and perfecting my craft. This is my job--my only job. Nine weeks in and I'm still struggling with truly understanding that situation.
A few of my classmates and I had this conversation and it's always good to commiserate on the fears wrapped in such a wonderful adventure. I love that there's a classmate who is constantly trying to figure out how to not let film school consume ever part of her life. She never misses an opportunity to ask the next professor or TA, how they balance film school and having a life and everyone says the same thing, "you won't have a life." Bless her heart, she's actively trying to keep a balance in her life and I dig that about her.
_opportunity cost
In economics there's this concept of passing up the next best choice when making a decision, basically giving up the choice of one thing in order to obtain another. That thing you gave up is the opportunity cost. For years I've been struggling with what and who I left behind for the possibility of film school. I left Georgia with no guarantees, only a dream and a shit ton of determination. How I've felt about what I gave up changes as I get older. While I'm excited about film school, realizing I'll be living in LA for another 4 years away from the people that make me the happiest--the people that make up my family, is a hard pill to swallow. I've been in LA for 6 years and I've been fortunate to meet some great and caring people, but my ATL fam is comprised of people who know my narrative, all my dirty little secrets, most embarrassing and joyous moments and whom I trust.
I was hanging with some 2nd and 3rd year female MFAs and the conversation ranged from the craft to having families while working in film. Four years is a long time to put your life on hold, even for something you love, weighed against the female realities of a family and a life outside of film. The thing you love shouldn't be a roadblock to a full and complete life. Filmmaking does not allow for balance in your life, so you have to find it wherever you can.
_collaboration
Filmmaking is pure collaboration. It's a level of collaboration that I've never truly experienced. It's been a learning experience to say the least. There have been a number of teachable moments, experiences and observations, the most important:
Number 01.
not everyone shares a respect for the process, so make sure that you do - crewing is honest work, so respect it. the physical labor of filmmaking is what makes filmmaking possible, point blank.
Number 02.
having a work ethic is equally important than any creativity or grand stories you want to tell. we all have a voice, take the time to respect the technical aspects of filmmaking if you want to direct
Number 03.
respecting the people you work with even when you don't like them is an absolute must
Number 04.
adding please, thank you and you're welcome to your vocabulary is imperative (you'd be surprised how often people don't bother saying them)
Number 05.
communication means making sure everyone understands what's going on, it does not mean speaking louder or more often, that's just making noise.
_out of sight, out of mind
Wrapped up in all this excitement is a bit of disappointment. I had hoped that this ultimate goal, the outcome of a long journey, which was shared with my closet friends, would be something I would ultimately share with those same people. It's hard for people to understand how disconnected this program makes you feel from your own life. It's been financially, physically and emotionally draining and it's only the beginning. This gets harder. Having an emotional sounding board is imperative.
Hubert Sauper, director of Darwin's Nightmare, said "you want to have people around you who are intellectual mirrors." That's no easy task. I always felt lucky to have that, but sitting in class for 12 hours a day, spending what free time you have either with actors rehearsing or writing or editing, you disconnect from your real life and reconnecting seems a chore, on both sides.
_next quarter
Winter 2011 is right around the corner. We've gotten our shooting schedules. I've combed over budgets from previous years, started looking for funding, started collected creatives, trying to figure out what I can cut from my script to lose those two extra pages and I'm hoping I'll get out of LA for a bit before it all kicks off. Wish me luck.
_soundcheck: quantic: an announcement to answer