Monday, August 29, 2011

http://www.guardian.co.uk/sport/2008/jun/17/1?INTCMP=ILCNETTXT3487

why is reviewing dance a silent activity?
The social aspect of racing is a revelation. Reviewing dance is a mostly silent activity, but here I get to banter with the bookies, embrace fellow winners and chat with a jockey.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Visual Outcome Reflection: Squaring Up Again






This is my next storyboard. After sitting on the previous one for a while, reflecting on how to best convey my voice and slimming down the story even more, I wanted to revise. This time I started storyboarding based on audio. This was instantly an easier way for me to think about what would happen next, and how to match/contrast images with audio. I also realized how many gaps had been missing in my other storyboard. That one was dealing with more components and I hadn't planned how they would be shown. This new one is more focused, but I think there are twice as many squares. It feels more precise and clear to me.

I've been revisiting my footage and gathering the other films that I need. I've also decided that there are a couple of sections where my actual writing will need to be a part of the film. I didn't feel comfortable leaving just images, and I couldn't find the exact audio I needed, so to make sure things are super-clear, I'll be overlaying text in a couple of spots throughout the film. I think this will serve as signposting for points and pacing changes. I also felt that even as I explored more and more ways of visually telling the story, I wasn't completely comfortable leaving my text out of it. A few lines here and there to tighten the story will help, I think.

Visual Outcome Reflection: Squaring Up





I started doing a more conventional type of storyboarding. Well, I dont' know if it's more conventional. I just drew a bunch of squares and started filling them in a way that made sense.

And that was the problem.

A few steps before I realized how helpful it was to storyboard based on audio. Drawing out the boxes made me forget this. Instead I started making a script/story based on visuals. This was confusing. I kept going off track. And the story didn't feel clear. Even when I thought I had a developed a good image, I felt like it wasn't supported. For some reason I pressed on until I felt I had reached an ending for what I wanted to say.

Still, organizing my thoughts in this way was beneficial in terms of knowing what was available. Suddenly when I saw a square, I knew I needed to be able to fill it with something. This fear/excitement made me feel a little more creative with how I told my story. I was scouring YouTube for science/laboratory footage and the dialogue from Field of Dreams (If you build it they will come!). This was also the point where I realized how daunting this project was getting. I was having a hard enough time figuring out a way to tell my story.

The organization also helped me realize that I needed to trim my review down even more. I kept hanging onto this bit about a new, young generation needing to feel special and how technology should be customizable. Essentially, we like to feel special; not one of the crowd. We use custom technology to help us feel this way. The giant screens were 'technology' but provided a window into something impersonal: We masses were watching dance on-screen when we had paid and gotten dress up (there were a lot of dressed up audience members!) to watch dance on-stage. Ultimately, I felt this idea was really difficult to convey, and my other reasons for why this performance didn't work kind of get at this idea: I still address the problem of technology, but instead I stick to the idea of seeing a performance through filters. I felt this was a stronger point, and also much more compelling to convey visually.

Once I kind of committed to storyline, I knew that I would run into more challenges with the physical technology. That's something I hadn't experienced in years (not since learning the photoshop pen tool!).

Visual Outcome Reflection: Voice

How do I convey my 'voice' through film?

This has been an incredibly daunting personal task. And throughout storyboarding I've been really aware when my voice isn't quite clear. The problem is I'm never quite sure how to clarify it. It usually takes a lot of internet/youtube/google searches because, normally, what I'll need is a short clip or a slice of audio to allow Sarah say what Sarah needs to say (sorry for the third person).

I've been referring to David Shields' Reality Hunger throughout this process. Somehow, Shields was able to maintain his voice when his voice wasn't even present. I think what it comes down to is canons. What is your personal canon? How do you use it? I've been pulling from own canon for some of the review. Little bits I remember seeing and ways of saying things that I can hear myself saying. This, of course, means I've been scouring my brain for memorable lines from romcoms and chickflicks (my faves), and many tap into the sarcastic/irreverent voice I use, especially when I'm talking about something serious...and need a moment to zoom out.

I also think going back to my original text has been incredibly useful in maintaining my voice. I am much more comfortable expressing a range of emotions and ideas through writing. I'm not as impressionable. In contrast, with film, I've been getting ideas from everywhere, and it's difficult to flesh out what works with my voice versus what I think is cool or might be fun to try. I keep going back to my original notes to remember how I said things (because a lot of the time I liked how I said those things!).

And I keep reflecting on what dance critic Sarah Kaufman told me at the end of our interview. I asked her whether about being the rare voice out of many that didn't like a performance. She said it happens, and to go with your gut. But to always have reasons to back up your gut. I think paying attention to instinct is a really accurate way of knowing when my voice is or isn't present. When my voice is present, I know I'm telling the story I want to tell. For example, I originally started the film storyboards by setting the scene within the O2 arena. I never felt confident about this choice. And admittedly, it was an easy, lazy choice. It was essentially copying what the other written reviews had been doing, and that meant I wasn't adding anything new to the conversation. Describing what the O2 arena looked like wasn't how I'd tell the beginning of this story. It wasn't until I started looking back at all of my weird footage and found a film I had made of a couple of the ballet dancers who did an interview on This Morning. I heard the talkshow host introduce them, and I knew this was how the film needed to begin. Immediately, these dancers, on this show, hosted by this guy was the right way to begin, and it felt like that's how I'd tell the story to someone. That's what was interesting to me. And like Kaufman says, review writing is about being conscious of what interests you.

Visual Outcome Reflection: Storyboarding Kind-of


I know it doesn't look like it, but these are my first attempts at real story boarding. Come on, I've never done this before, guys. I thought sectioning off my review an making lists within those sections would at least allow me to start with a clear outline. While I felt pretty clear on my main points within the original written drafts, this method helped me clarify even more. I'm not quite sure how it happened, but I started seeing how different sentences/phrases would work better in a different sequence for film than the order I would have thought to write them in.


In this second attempt at story boarding/outlining, I started color-coding my points. Main points were outlined in green, while supporting points might appear in blue. Outlining in color helped me to trim the fat of previous outlines. And seeing my main points so vividly made it easier for me to begin thinking about how to represent them visually.

For example, below is a poster I made to try to figure out how the 'filter' I kept referring to might look in a film. Mapping out how words and phrases might look made it easier for me to think about more options for visualizing the review. At first I was nervous about not having enough original footage to make my point. I realized that you really didn't need much original footage, especially since the goal of this kind of reviews is to address other issues.


So, in this case, I wanted to use some dancing footage of Romeo & Juliet. In this case, it really didn't matter if it was from the performance or not. Romeo & Juliet is an old ballet, and it's done the same way almost every time. Well, every time. I wanted to see how I could just manipulate the footage to say what happened within the O2. I was experimenting with the idea of rose-colored lenses to convey that you didn't really see what was there. What if you started out with dancing, and then a pink, transparent was placed over the dancing?

As I got into more storyboarding (which you'll see later), I realized that just rose-colored lensing wasn't enough. I had to think about how I'd want to magnify the dancing and zoom out of the dancing to convey what I saw and didn't see as an audience member. And THEN, I wanted to also use posterizing effects on the visuals and auto-tune effects on the audio to make it fully overproduced.

Visual Outcome Reflection: Outing the Doubt

This is the piece of poster paper where I totally freaked out. For some reason I thought I needed to do something more difficult to make this project 'worthwhile'...or something. Well, actually I know what happened. A conversation I had with Teal and Anna had given way to a lot of doubt. I had quickly mentioned that I was thinking about keeping my text review and film review separate (I keep wondering why I said this since until actually saying it, the thought never crossed my mind). Anyway, what came out of the conversation was that the idea I had quickly expressed was probably not the best use of my skills. I know that they meant this with good intentions. But instead of considering the comment and moving on, I let it stunt me for about two weeks. So for two weeks, I didn't do anything visual-outcome related. I just sat around and wondered (for no reason at all) whether I should make instead an app for iPad. Because, after our conversation, and after only hearing "this might not be the best use of your skills," I somehow began to thought that the film I was once excited about making was really just a crappy Youtube art film.

So it all came to a head in a day of brainstorming (after two weeks I finally forced myself to draw on some paper). There were lots of tears. Lots of wonderings about how to make more apps. Why did I want to do that? I didn't have a reason at all. I thought it would be cool, and because it would be super difficult, I thought it would be more impressive. Really, this was my reasoning for spending two weeks wondering about how to turn my review into an app (It's like the time I spent 250 dollars on a bicycle I couldn't ride in the hopes that my boyfriend would like me more. Guess what: it didn't matter. He liked me anyway). I guess I needed to start crying and have a whole bunch of doubts to realize why the film was the right idea and understand that Anna and Teal weren't really talking about the film (They were talking about my really bad idea of keeping a text review and film review separate...or...at least I think that's what they were talking about. Whatever).

THE POINT IS I needed to have a lot of doubts to purge all of the crap I was unsure about with this project. An app wouldn't work because first, I had no idea how to make one or even begin to visualize it. Second, I felt an app would have to allow users to form their own opinion, when what I really wanted them to experience was my opinion (this is, after all, a review). The next part I was unsure about was that making a film was an easy way out. Let me just say that this is in no way an easy project. Thinking visually (sound and moving images) to make a 2-3 minute video that conveys an opinion is really hard. A lot of this thinking is the most challenging thinking I've done in a while. I'm actually enjoying writing the report because it's easier. So when I finally allowed myself to visualize myself making the film, I got pretty excited. Despite having visualizer's block when it came to storyboarding, I had a pretty clear picture of how I wanted to tell my story. I was having fun exploring my archival footage options and manipulating content to make new content.

Here's what I included from another post about this day, and I think it sums the rest up:

And unlike when I thought I was going to barf (from anxiety) over making some stupid touch-screen app/iPad/whatever, I got that nervous feeling I always get when I write something I know is good: I always start shaking, and I get cold. And I know you can't do your thesis on instinct alone (well, actually I've been doing a lot of that), but I have to go with my gut on this one. Yesterday was a matter of getting the doubt out so I could get going.

In a way, maybe the film is an easy choice — because it should be an easy choice/option for critics. If ballet is really experiential — and for me, it's about way more than the performance on the stage — why haven't ballet reviews looked like this in the past? Maybe it seems easy because it seems like such an obvious thing to try. Something that could be interesting and work well. Like, duh.

Visual Outcome Reflection: Influences


I recently saw Terrence Mallick’s Tree of Life, and it struck a chord. Dialogue is sparse, but the film is incredibly rich with imagery. In fact, the very long sections of just montage are some of the most powerful. Although they seem quite abstract, they still seem to clearly convey Mallick’s positioning on faith and Christianity without the use of words. I found the images and pacing to be incredibly powerful. People were so angry when they left the theater — lots of talk about Christian propaganda. I was inspired by the amount of interpretation and and conversation that came out of watching a film with very little dialogue. Mallick used content he had filmed over the past 20 years to create the montages in this film. He was drawing from his personal archive to create new content from that content. I suppose [with this review] I’m drawing from my own canon, but not from my own archive (I haven’t made all of the footage that will appear in this film).

Tree of Life was absolutely beautiful, and while there was a story that unfolded, the feeling was always most striking. I’ve been wondering how I can include this idea in my film. How do you create a narrative but also create and convey emotion that?

Visual Outcome Reflection: On feasibility

I've been thinking a lot about how feasible this method is for reviewing. It's taken me so long to get this far with storyboards. I don't see how a critic with deadlines would have the time to put something like this together if he/she had to adhere to a news deadline of one or two days after. And no disrespect to anyone, but these critics are a bit older...and very clearly writers. Only writers. Even the content of their writing suggests they stick with exactly what they know: reviews, previews, ballet features or profiles on ballet dancers. They rarely write articles about how ballet intersects with other disciplines. But maybe that's what ballet criticism needs: a few people who are interested in taking the time to explore that. It's a grim thought, but Judith Mackrell of The Guardian won't be at it forever. Someone else will have to step in, hopefully with new ideas.

I recently spoke with Emilia and Linda, the founders of The Ballet Bag, a website devoted to being enthusiastic and informative (in a friendly, open way) about ballet. They don't call themselves critics, but they had a lot of great insight on how ballet criticism works right now. I told them about my idea of wanting more out of a review — how a review could look beyond a performance. And they said it's just a difficult thing to convey in the very limited space that review-writers have. The editorial side of the publications have expectations (even if they are dated) about what a review should look like, and these writers have to adhere to that. The comments sections of reviews (at least on the Guardian and Observer) are where The Ballet Bag ladies say reviews can really take shape, or re-shape. Many times, it will give critics the opportunity to dive deeper into issues they wanted to cover. Mostly, though, I've found that the commenters on Luke Jennings' and Judith Mackrell's reviews either very much agree with everything either reviewer says, or the commenters have absolutely no clue what criticism is anyway (this seems to be a problem with comments sections in general). You have very little opportunity for coherent development of thought. And in the case of these ballet reviews, commenters function as faithful defenders of the writers.

Going back to how writers must adhere to the needs of a publication got me thinking about the piece that I submitted to the Guardian a while back. Judith Mackrell really liked it, but she said it was too literary. I was caught off-guard because I thought my writing about ballet very clearly made good links between ballet and other disciplines, and fairly (in understandable language) explained where ballet stood in current popular culture. And I worked to spell out how ballet had appeared in many different arenas so that more readers might be included. Being told the piece was too literary (okay, maybe it was a different writing style than The Guardian usually prints) made me wonder about the content of the actual reviews. I mean, have you read them? Okay, you probably haven't. But some of the descriptions are just loaded with unreadable or nonsensical or 'flowery' phrases. Take this sentence from a Royal Ballet Triple Bill Review of Ballo della Regina by Luke Jennings:

Nuñez, ravishing in shell-pink chiffon, makes light of the often counterintuitive text, springing on to pointe from steely air-turns, drawing bowstring-taut arabesques out of en dedans pirouettes, and launching into flying, up-tucked pas de chat.

As someone who goes to the ballet, I can understand the want? need? to be specific about steps, but is this how you attract an audience? Is this how you gain readers? I really don't even know what 'en dedans pirouettes' are. And this is in the second paragraph. How about making me feel a little bit more included? If you really want to go there, this feels awfully 'literary' to me.

Anyway, besides the challenge of actually making the film, I wondered about the feasibility of a film-as-review appearing somewhere like The Guardian or Observer. I'm trying to bring in 'fun' or relevant aspects of popular culture — recognizable quotes or images that people can relate to. But that also raises a problem within print journalism: Is using content to create new content plagiarism? In this case, I don't think so because I'll be including a list of references at the end of the film, but the content will not be attributed as the film plays. And if it's on youtube, I say it's fair game. But even thought I'm trying to bring in aspects of popular culture (to the film), would a film be too avant-garde for a publication? How clear do you have to be to reach a section of the mainstream...but still be interesting?

Visual Outcome Reflection: Visualizing, Part 1






I've written the review, but now it's time to get beyond the words. In my tutorial, Teal and Anna were interested in the fact that the process towards a final visual outcome began with words. The review was text-based. And well, so is this. But it's definitely a step in a more uncomfortable direction for me. I mean, I rarely make webs...unless I'm being forced to make a web for class. But! I thought it would be helpful to start thinking beyond how Romeo & Juliet looks on paper and explore how I might convey the experience and my opinion on film. I'm pretty lost. I was hoping that I would have enough original footage, but I don't feel like I do. It seems like a good opportunity to use content to build new content. I've been reading that, with dance, everything generated comes from something that exists already. Expanding that content-from-content idea in the form of a review might lead to some interesting juxtapositions with other elements of popular culture. In my written review, I say something like...."It's as if the Royal Ballet is too embarrassed to bring their girlfriend (the audience) home to meet their mother (the Royal Opera House), so they bring them to the O2." I've been wondering about a moment from a RomCom that might work to convey that within the film, which is kind of fun.

I've also been reviewing some of the coverage that I filmed before the event. Two of the dancers were on This Morning, and there were a few gems I could use within that. The trailers released by the Royal Ballet before the performance weekend really stand out too: "World's Greatest Ballet Company. World's Greatest Love Story. World's Greatest Arena." I think this will be a repeated element that I'd like to manipulate to show convey this idea of: If you tell us, we'll come. Tell us you're awesome, and we'll come! *

In the first image (with 'Set Up The Scene' at the top), I was trying to think about what visuals I could use at the beginning of the film, but I think I can do only so much setting up the scene. Normally written reviews spend a good paragraph setting things up. I feel like I can convey the scene throughout the film, especially if I repeat a few certain images (the main trailer itself, the lone hotdog stand underneath the Romeo & Juliet trailer advert and this awesome footage of zillions of sheep being herded come to mind). Maybe it's better — and clearer — to just get straight to the point.

I've found that thinking about what the film might sound like is helping me craft a story arc. I've been listening to my footage, and thinking about music and sound effects. For some reason, that comes across strongly to me. It feels more natural to put together a story from sounds first. We'll see what happens.


* Which reminds me! An aside about Love Da Pop: They chose popcorn because it was cheap and they could afford to take a risk with that. And then to build up a client base, they told everyone (and by everyone I mean every adorable cinema and also BAFTA) that they had this fantastic popcorn in beautifully designed packaging. They didn't have any of that. By the time they had gotten their first popcorn-making gig, they hadn't developed a flavor and they didn't have packaging at all. Quickly, they popped like 3,000 servings of popcorn and salt-and-peppered it (their first "gourmet" flavor). They they bought a bunch of toothpicks, a stamp and some striped bags and sold the popcorn in those. They handed over the packages at the event. They knew it looked kinda shitty and not "beautifully designed," but they didn't apologize for it and they were as confident as can be about it. People ate it up. In a way, I guess you could see this as being a little sleazy, but I guess I see it as using the ingredients you have and know to make something you've never tried before. Just do it. And don't apologize for it. If you have confidence that this is an awesome thing people need to know, then they'll believe you. They just need to be told.

Visual Outcome Reflection: First Drafts









There was no real thought behind starting the visual outcome by actually writing a review. It didn't strike me as odd. It just seemed like the natural first step in my making process. I'm not a terribly visual person when it comes to the first stages of storytelling. I usually don't make webs or big brainstorm charts. I take a lot of notes, and I look at my notes. I take some more notes. And I type on my computer. That's about it, usually. I knew that writing about Romeo & Juliet first would help me clear my head. It was a way of purging a bunch of shitty ideas. I can handle shitty ideas in writing. I didn't know if I could kill bad ideas as easily once they were in an animatic or placed in the film. As Anne Lamott says, I saw my written reviews as my "shitty first drafts" of my film. They weren't separate. These writings, somehow, would become...unwritings? Or something?

Knowing that writers don't have tons of time to write a review after a performance, I thought it would be good to just practice the act of writing a review. And in retrospect, I suppose I wanted to test one half of my idea before going further: I wanted to use the review of Romeo & Juliet as a way in to write about another issue. In this case, I wanted to use the opportunity to address the technology of the performance and the marketing of the ballet as an event. A question I tried to answer throughout the written review was, why this advertising now? Why not use advertising for the performances at the Royal Opera House?

As I wrote notes and formed outlines, I tried to pay attention to a couple of ideas because I knew they would play out later in the visual outcome:

1. What you leave out is as important as what you leave in. There was a lot of stuff I wanted to say, especially because I was enraged that the Royal Opera House could charge me 50 pounds to come to North Greenwich and watch a screen. I wanted to talk about how brilliant Alina Cojocaru was when I could actually make out her tiny body on stage, and I wanted to write about how impossible it was to enjoy her dancing because the giant screens were so distracting. All we saw were faces and upper bodies. It was suddenly like silent theatre. I wanted to write that the Royal Ballet has the wrong idea of what their 'new, young audience' wants (we don't want a mass experience; we want to feel like insiders). I wanted to say that none of what I'm writing matters because once the tens of thousands showed up and planted themselves in their seats, the ballet would be dubbed a success. In this case, I felt it really was pointless to write about what happened on stage. However, I knew that most of what I was writing wouldn't show up in the visual outcome. At one point, I didn't think any of the actual words I had written would be a part of it.

2. Which brings me to the need to sum it up. Throughout the writing process, I became more and more conscious that my writing would need to be fairly simple — simple, clear ideas — so that I could make it even more clear for a visual outcome (that might not even use my ownwriting to direct it). And after getting through quite a number of drafts (I made new drafts to rearrange, to cut and to add. Each one was a development from the next; not a complete revision), I was able to sum up my review fairly concisely:

1. The self-proclaimed "world's greatest ballet company" was performing in the world's "greatest arena."

2. Did it work?

3a. No.
3b. We were drawn to the screens like flies to light
3c. We had come to a performance to experience it through filters.
3d. Whatever happened on-stage was the supplemental lip-synch of the real deal.

4. The success of the 'experiment' was in the marketing. Where was this marketing in other RB productions? Why isn't it being used to bring audiences to the Royal Opera House (When you got it, flaunt it)?

5a. If you're trying to reach a new young audience, you have to make them feel special; not one of the crowd.

So after zooming in to write about 800 words, I zoomed way out to whittle my argument down to a few points. This became the next working draft of the visual outcome.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Video interviews for music blogs and bird poop

Email to K. Maletsky:

"just watched your videos from midwest mayhem. bravo! it was almost uncomfortable to watch people try to find some words to talk, which makes me think that this is a really good method to explore. it's so funny because i was going to try something similar at the ballet on thursday evening. i hope you do more of this!"

These films of fans at a concert are kind of strange. Everyone looks surprised that a music critic would be asking for their opinion. Or maybe, everyone is just surprised to be asked for an opinion? Whatever the case, I thought the experimentation of video was interesting. It's something I've been wanting to try. I don't know where the critic's voice is (well, it's there...I hear Kiernan), but I like the idea of using something else to document the show. Could it be done critically? I love that film was used here, at a rock concert. Because these venues are so much more about the environment and everyone else...it's not just about the band. It's about everything. I think it's important that a critic try to capture that. I've been wondering about the point of a one-off ballet performance. But what about music shows, where a lot of bands play the same set list over and over again? And most of the live, played music gets compared to the mastered recordings. That seems backwards. Why not focus on something else?

Alt-weeklies are interesting places to look for strange bits of criticism. I actually thought the RiverFront Times' coverage of last years' Kings of Leon concert was a great example of looking outside of the performance.

http://blogs.riverfronttimes.com/rftmusic/2010/07/kings_of_leon_cancels_st_louis_show_pigeon_bird_shit_july_23_2010_jared_followill_missouri_heat.php

The band canceled because apparently a pigeon pooped on the lead singer's head after performing three songs. And the article that came out of the performance, I think qualifies as a review. It talks about what happened and really investigates the story too. Turns out, a year later, the pigeon episode was actually, well, a load of crap. The RFT revisited the performance and fiasco after more information surfaced this year. Even though the performance in St. Louis happened more than a year before, I'd still consider this piece of writing the review:

http://blogs.riverfronttimes.com/rftmusic/2011/08/kings_of_leon_pigeon_gate_dallas.php