Let me begin by telling you that I am doing really well. When I am not shooting, Castelmola can be a pretty lonely place. Although I know a lot of people, they are pretty much always working, since their livelihoods all depend on summer tourism. That said, I have been shooting a lot. Still, I can’t say that I am entirely convinced of the footage I have. I have been feeling like I am still missing the pieces I need to make a really powerful documentary.
I decided it was time for a break.
As luck would have it, a friend from Rome invited me to go with her to the Pesaro Film Festival (in Northern Italy), and I happily accepted. The film festival was interesting. Israeli cinema was one of its themes. One, in particular, was quite moving, and I highly recommend it: Year Zero (Shnat Effes, in Hebrew). I also saw a documentary called Rachel, about an American girl (Rachel Corrie) killed in Palestine while attempting to stop Israeli tanks from demolishing Palestinian houses. It was quite powerful, thorough, and well-done, I thought. They even showed Sweetgrass, though the showing occurred before I had arrived.
But I suppose all of this is neither here nor there. Getting out of Castelmola gave me a really good opportunity to reflect on my film. I realized that so far, the footage I have shot and that I plan to shoot includes primarily three families: the Turrisis (owner of the infamous bar), the Caristis (who I already shot burning weeds in their fields), and the Sterrantinos (the musical family who own the pizzeria in town). I’m also very interested in filming a family of North African immigrants (there are several living in town). If these families become the tentpoles around which I build my film, I will definitely need more footage of each. On the other hand, building my film around this sort of logic strikes me as stifling. I worry that concentrating too heavily on these families will necessitate the exclusion of other characters whose presence could contribute a lot. I would certainly appreciate input on this. How are the rest of you thinking of organizing your films?
My plan thus far has been to do a primarily observational piece, but I have also been considering adding a poetic element to it, a la The Nuer, if anyone has seen that (and assuming I am remembering it correctly). It's an observational film about a tribe in Africa. Towards the end, it breaks from the observational style and goes into a montage of shots set to the music of the tribe. I can see how this could be done poorly, but in The Nuer it is done beautifully. The poetic section is at once a break from and crescendo of the observational style. I'd very much like to do something similar. Music is clearly a fundamental part of Sicilian culture, and there's so much I wish I could include!
The landscape is also an important potential metaphor, and I have been getting a lot of interesting shots of Mt. Etna. Last week I hiked up Monte Venere, a mountain that rises up above Castelmola, and the landscape was incredible striking. It was as if I had landed in purgatory. It is very rugged. There are a number of abandoned houses (probably hundreds of years old). I saw plants blackened from fires, and other plants with purple flowers and enormous, imposing thorns. It is very quiet at the top, but for the light breeze and a few random sounds in the distance: sheeps braying, bells ringing. A truly interesting place. I definitely plan on returning with my camera.
On another note, there is an idea I have been toying with for awhile that I would really like to make happen, although I’m certain it won’t be easy. I was thinking about how to lend more of an air of authenticity to my subtitles (since I do plan on subtitling this film). I came up with one idea that I really like. Once I have finished translating the content, I would like to have each of my subjects handwrite the translations, in such a way that each character’s dialogue will be subtitled in his or her own handwriting. On the technical side of things, I have a pretty good idea about how this will work. It’s the logistical side that I am worried about: sending the translations to the people involved and getting them to send them back to me with enough time to put them in the finished piece. Any ideas?
Sometimes I find myself wishing I had some sort of bionic camera installed in my head, so I didn’t miss some of the more interesting interactions I have, or some that would be impossible without the camera. I am loving my new place. I have told a few people who I am renting from, and have quickly learned that my eighty-something-year-old landlord has quite a reputation as the town pain-in-the-ass. Thankfully, he has been nothing but nice to me so far.
Last week, a few minutes into my hike up Monte Venere, a woman came out of her house and offered me a glass of lemonade. I gladly accepted. She also gave me one of the freshest, juiciest oranges I have ever eaten. I made a bit of small talk, told her I was American, what I was doing in town, and so on. She asked me if I wanted a bottle of homemade wine. Sure! She brought out the bottle of wine, and it was at this point that the conversation changed. Ten euros for the bottle, she said. Suddenly suspicious, I asked her to let me try it. I did. It was terrible (to say nothing of the fact that it was in a recycled two-liter water bottle). I told her I wasn’t interested in the bottle, that I didn’t want to carry it up the mountain with me. She told me I could buy it then and pick it up on the way back. Stalling, I decided I would introduce myself, and told her my name and shook her hand. Strangely, she did not respond in kind, so after another minute of small talk, I asked her her name.
She shrugged.
- You don’t want to tell me your name, Signora?
- It’s not important.
- Why don’t you want to tell me your name?
- It doesn’t really matter...
I waited.
- Ok, my name is Anna.
At this point I was more than ready to extricate myself from the situation, but decided to make more small talk. So I told “Anna” that I was renting a place in Castelmola and would be here for a couple more months (hoping she would stop giving me the tourist treatment). She asked where I was renting, and I told her the name of my landlord.
- You’re renting from him?
- Yes.
She made a face. - Well, maybe you shouldn’t mention to him that you met me.
- Oh really?
- Yes, please don’t say anything.
- Well, I don’t really talk to him that much. At any rate, Signora, I need to get going so I can hike up the mountain before it gets dark.
- Take the bottle of wine.
- No thanks, I don’t need it.
- It’s good wine.
- No thanks. But I’d be happy to offer you something for the delicious lemonade and the orange. How much would you like?
She shrugged.
- Ok, how about one euro?
She paused, thinking. - Two euros.
- Ok, fine.
Of course as soon as I got a chance, I told my landlord about the whole thing (I didn’t feel I owed anything to a woman who was clearly trying to rip me off). He was quite amused by the whole story. He said her name was Angela, not Anna, and that she pulls that act with just about everyone who walks up the mountain. I have since told the story to a few people, and they’ve all said the same.
It’s unusual for people here to be anything but generous, so this was certainly an exception, not the rule. But God, how I wish I had the whole thing on camera somehow!
Adam,
ReplyDeleteHow about making a two-minute long tape of climbing up the mountain with your wonderful account of your encounter with Anna (Angela) as text superimposed on the image? I think it would be both funny and moving to have the conclusion "Two Euros," "OK, fine" over the final prospect from the summit (sheep bells in the distance, etc). You've written a mini film script! Maybe the title is "Mount Venere,"
ALFRED
PS Sorry to sign these postings "Sensory Ethnography." I seem not to have set up my access correctly.
Oh man, this is not looking good for me… Guys, seriously! I wasn’t trying to poke, prod, or guilt-trip you! I just realized I hadn’t heard from y’all in awhile and wanted to see how you’re doing before I return to the boonies of Nepal. :)
ReplyDeleteI know the lone-traveler-in-a-lonely-place thing all too well, as you already know from shared musings on Lucas’ entry-—probably why I’ve really taken to participating in this blog. I think Cynthia made a really insightful point when she wrote (paraphrasing Paul Theroux), “if often lonely, the solitariness of traveling can often open one's eyes to what would otherwise go unnoticed.” I know this sounds a little crazy, but I feel like the camera’s become my interim best friend on this trip. I might not have a real human connection to share these new experiences with, but the camera is an even more immediate, intimate look inside my head—seeing what I’m seeing, hearing what I’m hearing. And I’ll inevitably get to have that human connection on a much bigger scale four months down the road, when a movie theater full of anthropology enthusiasts will finally share the experience I’m having now. Delayed gratification!
I can’t tell you how enthusiastic I am about the idea of having your subjects handwrite their own subtitles! What a great idea! My favorite part of Benning’s North on Evers was that the scrolling text was written in his own handwriting, making it feel more like a journal… so much more personal to him. Though it occurred to me at the time that it seemed significant that the text scrolled through the subtitle region, it never would have occurred to me to extend such a concept to actual subtitling. Though you say you’ve got the technical side worked out, let me ask two technical questions anyway: 1.) Are you sure that the handwriting of all your subjects is legible enough to be read quickly by an audience unfamiliar with their writing style? 2.) One potential criticism of North on Evers (though I would argue that it actually added a lot to the film) was that the black text was often “lost” when the subtitle region of the screen was dark. How will you deal with this? In regular subtitling, this is combated by outlining the text with white (like the “glow” feature in Photoshop, and something I’m sure there’s some way of doing in Photoshop), but this seems like it would take away from that authenticity you’re pursuing. Another possibility would be to make the subtitles white on dark backgrounds, but I don’t know how this would come across aesthetically, it again diminishes the air of authenticity, and sometimes the subtitle region will be patches of light and dark.
As for getting subtitles done in time for the big premiere (sidenote: not a good sign when your comment is refused because it exceeds the comment length limit!), two-and-a-half ideas come to mind… First, I’d extend the advice Alfred gave me and get as much of the heavy lifting done in Castelmola as you can. Do your ideas on how to do this technically require materials you don’t have access to? If all you need is pen and paper, why not get the bulk of it done now? While still in Italy, you could pick out the scenes that are strongest, most important, and/or dialogue-driven, translate late them there, and have your subjects transcribe right there in the field. If you’re worried that having your subjects being affected by seeing their own words translated into English, you could wait until the last week to have them transcribe… maybe even throw some sort of a farewell/thank you gathering or dinner, and have them do it there. Another idea, which I think is even better than the first, is to use one of the relatively inexpensive “Make Your Handwriting a Font!” programs available on the internet. It could get pricey if you’ve got a ton of subjects (I think they might be about $5 per “font”), but it would be super easy to get a handwriting sample from each of your subjects before you go. Heck, if you’ve got access to a scanner in Italy, you could even give it a whirl now and see how it looks. Though on some deeper, intellectual level, this might diminish some level of “truth” (whatever that means), it would still have an equal air of authenticity, and for a fraction of the work. (Cursive is risky anyway… hard to read.) Besides saving both you and your subjects a TON of time and effort, you would avoid a problem I can easily foresee: somewhere down the road (especially if your subjects mail you transcriptions after you’ve left Italy), you’ll realize one or two words are illegible, and have to back-and-forth with your subject across the Big Pond trying to get a new handwritten copy of a single word. My half-an-idea (which is really just an extension of the first), is to get a handwriting sample from each of your subjects and “transcribe” your own subtitles in Photoshop. You could build an alphabet (plus punctuation, etc.), and maybe even a small dictionary of the most common words, using different layers, then copy and paste your way to subtitle paradise. This would be more work than using a build-a-font program, but it’d be totally free, and you’d have a little more control over spacing and such. Plus, if you were to get multiple versions of handwriting samples from your subjects, you could pick and choose letters to make it look a little more natural (i.e. having two different “e”s in the word “weeds”. What I definitely would NOT recommend is waiting until after you’ve left to get started on this… Mail is slow, and even people with the best intentions can be unreliable (or unspeedy, which can be just as bad). At the very least, you could get each subject to write out a few copies each of capital letters, lowercase letters, and punctuation, etc., to have on hand should you need them in a pinch.
ReplyDeleteTy,
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for the wonderful suggestions. Here is what I had in mind for the technical part of getting the handwriting subtitles:
1. Have subjects write, ideally, with a black felt pen/marker, something that creates a thicker line than a ball point pen, on white paper.
2. Scan this.
3. In Photoshop, keep one copy of the original file, invert the colors, and keep one copy of the file with inverted colors.
4. In each file, remove the background and make it transparent. (I think this could also be done in FCP with a chroma key, but then there would be the rendering step every time I made a change...)
5. Combine the two, so that I have black text with a white "shadow". This way it would show up no matter what was behind it.
I don't feel that I would lose much in the way of authenticity by doing this. I thought about doing the handwriting sample thing and creating a font as you suggested, but I think that actually would make it less authentic. I like the idea of having them write words unfamiliar to them, even making mistakes. As for handwriting, I would ask them to write with their best penmanship (which I don't think would be any less "theirs"--after all we all have better and worse penmanship).
I think you are right though, I shouldn't wait till I leave if at all possible. I definitely like the idea of hosting a dinner at the end. I certainly have the space on my terrace! It's the inevitable criticism of my cooking that I fear (not because I am a bad cook, but because Italians never pull any punches when it comes to criticizing your cooking!!).
Alfred,
ReplyDeleteThanks so much for this idea! I really like it and indeed think it could make a compelling project.
I'm curious——will we have smaller projects to complete this coming semester or will we be concentrating entirely on our final pieces?
Thanks!
Adam