conversations, etc.

Left Unsaid 2: unsaid

2010-02-03T23:52:00.014-05:00

unsaid

by Alissa Nutting

Leaving things unsaid is not my biggest problem. I tend to say too much. I used to want to say too much so badly that I lied if I didn't have enough to say. I did this until I became involved in a serious relationship, and suddenly had someone there who could attest to the lack of validity of everything I was saying. It is not fun to get busted. I will say that.

Luckily, advances in information technology now give me new things to say all the time. There are not enough hours in the day to even cover it. Still, there is something unfulfilling in spreading around news about people and events that have no relation to me. I find it easy to go dead in the eyes when I’m not the heroine.

Once, when I was about five or six, a childhood friend and I left my grandmother’s house and went to the bathroom in the backyard trees. “I do this all the time,” I told my friend. That was a lie. I had also told her that I lived on a farm where I had to rise before dawn to extract milk from the udders of cows and goats (in truth we did not own even a goldfish), and that somewhere on the premises of my family’s plot of land there was an electric spanking machine.

When I finished, I decided it would be funny to wipe some on the side of the neighbor’s house. We placed it on a leaf and then swirled it in a giant circle. “They will think a bird did it,” I masterminded. I’m not sure what prompted me to think they’d believe a bird would make a fecal circle about a foot in circumference on the house’s siding. Later we saw the neighbor out front with a hose.

I think about this sometimes, because that is what it feels like to talk about other people. Unsatisfying, like I’m just spreading something around with a leaf.

And the unsaid does not have any sort of forgiving middle ground. To leave things unsaid means that even hints are off the table. It would seem that stating, “I’d love to say more but I shouldn’t,” or “I promised not to tell,” would be a happy medium whereby I could acknowledge the unsaid without actually spilling the beans. But saying this is even worse. In the speculative economy of secrets and information, such statements raise the stock price of the unsaid so much that people will offer irresistible temptations (alcohol, email fwds with puppy pictures, words such as ‘please’) in order to make me squeal.

People like it when things are said. Words often garner responses of laughter and smiles. Sometimes there is even applause. I suppose this is what I leave unsaid when I say everything: I want to be liked. Occasionally I’ll even comment upon things to my dog, hoping that he will think me clever, love me more, want to cuddle. But to him, it’s probably just the same if I don’t even speak. Maybe I could go to an unsaid rehabilitation clinic lead by dogs and learn to separate saying things and being valued. I think this therapy would work for a time, while I stayed there. But when I left I’d probably go right back to the way I was.

*************************************************************

Alissa Nutting is a current Schaeffer Fellow in fiction at the University of Nevada Las Vegas, where she is finishing her PhD in English. Her first collection of short stories, Unclean Jobs for Women and Girls, was selected by Ben Marcus for publication through Starcherone Books in Fall 2010. Her work has been published in such journals as Tin House, Fence, and Mid-American Review.

Noah Segan: Actor, Underdog, Replacements Fan

2009-06-18T21:48:00.012-05:00

Still from Still Green.

Get hip to Noah Segan.

This is not to say, merely: 1) watch a film of his, 2) check off "knowing of him" form your hip independent film credibility list, 3) then move on to the next actor/director/cinematographer whom a friend just told you about. Definitely, check out a film of his. But, watch it closely. Watch Noah Segan closely. See how he fits right into each role.Fits right into each film, and changes it.

This happens whether the role is expansive and lets him unravel his range, or it is minor and showcases more tight and nuanced gestures. The thing is, he is well-versed and carefully-composed for each role.Yet, it is not about posturing, pretending, and pulling one over the audience. You note his eyes, and trust that he shares the same head-space of his character. The temperament, the tone of voice, and the gait are just some of the things that are seamlessly right-on in each Noah Segan role I've seen.

Consider him in Brick, the sleeper hit that is bound to impact the genres of noir, teen film, and coming-of-age. Noah's leather-jacket strutting, edgy loner, Dode, tears across the screen from the moment he is introduced. His moodiness is palpable, and by the film's end, it is easy to see how this is his, "Wow, who is this actor?" role. In What We Do is Secret, he embodies Don Bolles, the singular drummer of the explosive LA punk band, The Germs. He does so without that: "Hey, look at me. I'm a great actor doing a spot-on job in this period piece. I'm as authentic as my period-piece clothing, man!" unfortunate grandiosity that can easily plague a bio-pic. Naturally, Noah call his conviction-based methods "punk rock acting."

Noah's back-to-back acting schedule is paying off, with several films coming out this year. Two of those films (The Brothers Bloom, Still Green) opened nationally in May. Rian Johnson follows up Brick with The Brothers Bloom, a one-last-con story that is as stylistically sharp as it is emotionally textured. Noah rovides an "in the pocket" (to use a jazz term) cameo that adds spunk to the cornucopia of characters we meet. Still Green (a film previously covered on this site) anchors Noah as the visceral, tumultuous underbelly of a compelling ensemble, as they come-to-terms with the vanishing of youth's clear horizons. Then, we will get to see Noah in a slew of much-anticipated suspense and gore films that will offer dark, strange places for him and the audience to explore. Deadgirl, one of these flicks, has received glowing reviews on the festival circuit, and will potentially floor audiences in its not-soon-enough (but upcoming) theatrical release. However, this is not the story of a flash-in-the-pan actor being typecast any time soon. With each film, we seem him honing his craft, expanding his palette and grounding his artistic intentions.

In a phone interview with Noah Segan, I had the chance to hear him unpack his methods, explain why he does what he does, and talk about the artists who have informed his creative headspace. Just as his acting is not filled with fluff and obvious proclamations, neither are his thoughts. I heard the vision of a clear mind that is not afraid to do the real work of bringing to life the dynamic and vivid characters he takes on. As a sign of his well-honed skills getting noticed, Noah is spending the summer acting in the influential director Monte Hellman's upcoming film. As opposed to an actor whose career may come and go with the whims of the film market, something tells me that Noah will stick around. Which is to say, watch a film of Noah's. Watch a few.

* The Brothers Bloom opened in New York & Los Angeles on May 15, 2009 & nationally May 22. Still Green opened in Worcester, MA on May 15, 2009. Still Green will be playing at Naples, Florida's Pavillion CInema 10 June 19-25, 2009; and at Los Angeles's AFI Theater on June 27 as part of NYU's Tisch West Alumni Council’s Cinema Club Screening Series. Other cities TBA on Still Green's official site.

“Dode appears, dusty and black.”

NS: Hey, there

CE: Hi, Noah. How are you?

NS: I'm good. How are you doing?

CE: Pretty good. I'm an old friend of Georgia's and Doug's. I have this interview web site, where I interview people, nonchalantly.

NS: Well, I'm a very nonchalant guy.

CE: That's good. I'm quite a fan of your acting, so far. I'm going to ask you some questions about Still Green, and then some questions about your style. How you get to form these characters, that sort of thing

NS: Yeah.

CE: What lead you to Still Green?

NS: Well, when the movie was happening, I had come off of a really long year. I like to go through fits and spurts, where I like to work back to back to back to back, and wear myself out. Then, I'll take a little bit of a break. I had been just working my butt off, doing all types of fun stuff, like the movie about The Germs [What We Do Is Secret]. I got a call from people who I had worked with at the time, who were packaging together Still Green. Because it was an in-house project, they had come to me with it. I read the script, talked to Jon [Jon Artigo, the director]. Jon is about the most gregarious, friendly, funny guy you'll ever hope to meet. That made me feel good about it. I appreciated that it was an in-house project–- that everybody came with such high recommendations. It made me feel honored to be included in that, so I jumped right on it.

CE: When you say in-house, who in the Still Green family were you familiar with?

NS: I was familiar with Ryan Kelley, who was represented by the same people who, at the time, I was. They had packaged him into it.

CE: You guys know each other from before. You're also mixing with Jon, Andrea, Georgia and Doug, who have been working together for a while.

NS: Exactly. It's always a good thing to work with your friends, and then work with other people who are friends, because it immediately gives the sense that people are collaborators. If they are already set up in a unit, as a team, then they like to work together as a team. It gives me all the confidence in the world that I can join that team and collaborate, which is why I like working on little movies.

CE: Right. Speaking of that, I like the nuances you throw in with your character. I want to know about certain things you brought to the character, or that you felt compelled to focus on. Then, I want to know more about the drawing you do in the film.

NS: One of the things that I immediately picked up on when I came to Florida– I picked up on it in the script, but I really picked up on it when I came to Florida–- was how beach-oriented the cast was. You've got this cast of very good-looking kids who are in great shape, and are very tan and very active. Of course, that immediately gave me the inclination to stay inside [laughs] and put on a couple pounds, which I tried to do for this role. And just create the history of Sean being a little distant, and not necessarily being someone who is out doing and acting exactly like his friends all the time. Because, after his freak-out, the guy became an introvert. One of the ways you could show that is physically. It was a distinct choice that I made, and I think it came across. It definitely felt, when we were making it, like it came across, and it helped me to stay in character.

The drawings: I tend to play characters who have very specific skill sets, whether it's a musician or an artist. The wonderful part about being an actor is that you get to take on all of these jobs and persona that you don't have— to get to really be everything. I grew up in an artistic family, and I've had the pleasure of being surrounded by artistic people. But, I don't draw regularly and I'm not as accomplished an artist as Sean was. I had some help from the art department with drawing, but I made the effort to study art theory, and so was able to do a lot of that myself.That ended up being a big influence on the character. If you're acting like the dude you're playing, then the lines become even more blurred. I tried to create a guy who is sedentary and introverted– physically and emotionally.

CE: It works very well. With your characters that I've seen-- but especially in Brick–- there's a sharp edge in each one. They seem to straddle the line between– the characters are very sincere, but stylized. At what point is it stylized, at what point is it just this sharply wrought-out character that you make? Does it become emotionally taxing for you to get in these places and fully form these characters?

NS: I think it depends. Brick is an interesting example, because the only description of Dode in the script is when he first appears from behind the dumpster. It says: “Dode appears, dusty and black.” [My italics and punctuation.] There was no inclination to take him any other way, other than dusty and black. Well, that's a beautiful phrase, and that's beautiful prose, but what does that mean, in a literal sense, in a visual sense?

When it came time to designing the character, it just sort of came. The leather jacket came, and the boots came, and the haircut came. These were all things that I came to the director, Rian Johnson, with. These were things we spoke about, and I asked for, and we worked out. It happened in a very natural way. The same thing happened on Still Green. There are times where I've had to really push it, The Germs movie being a great example. Because, I was imitating a real-life person, who not only did people know, who not only was a well-known figure, but who I was a big fan of.

CE: Yeah, yeah.

NS: I had a lot of pressure, and I had very little wiggle room. I had to really be this guy. In that respect, that was literally putting on a costume and having to spend time with Don [Bolles], who I was playing. I had to learn how he acted, how he spoke, how he dressed, how he played drums. He had to teach me how to play drums. That was a lot more academic, a lot more mathematical, doing that part.

CE: Was it satisfying, after The Germs movie, to act out this other type of character, in Still Green?

NS: Well, that was part of why I was drawn to Still Green and Sean in the first place. It was a very straining experience, because it's a fictional character. It's a guy who is going to evolve based on how I interpret him, how the director interprets him, as written in the script. That allows for things that weren't in the script to come out and help move the story forward. As opposed to having to do something physically right, or otherwise everyone goes: “Oh, that doesn't work.” So, that was very satisfying. It was also challenging, because it was really switching gears.

CE: With The Germs film, were you satisfied, in the end– with your version of Don Bolles?

NS: I think I am. I'm satisfied with the authenticity of Don, and of how authentic I was able to make him. In the story, it has a lot of drama, and there needed to be comic relief. In the film, that fell upon Don–- for me–- to be the comic relief. Don is a very funny guy, and he's a very irreverent guy, and he's a very smart guy. But, he's also a very deep guy. He was also very involved in a lot of the drama, and the tragedy, and the instigation that went on in the real story and during that time. Of course, in a movie where you're trying to distill five or six years of four people's lives into two hours, you can't get that all across. That became sort of a challenge.

CE: That's what happens in a bio-pic movie. You'll get a version of the facts, but if it feels authentic, that's great. That must have been hard, for the director [Rodger Grossman] to squeeze that story within two hours, and make himself happy and the potential Germs fans happy; while, at the same time, try to get something authentic. It must have been an exciting challenge for you guys.

NS: Yeah. It was very challenging for the people who were really there. What was so beneficial about making the movie was that we had The Germs there. Pat Smear, Lorna Doom, and Don Bolles were there with us. And Hellin Killer and Paul Roessler and the whole group of people that are still around. You know, they are the circle: that whole "Circle One" thing-- that is the song, that is the spirit of The Germs.

Still from What We Do Is Secret.

"Us punk rock actors are

few and far between."

NS: Cabin Fever 2: Spring Fever. That was my major role in a studio film. It was also something that was very new because I had to be the capable, heroic man. I didn't know about that. I was, like, wait a minute, I play drug addicts and degenerates in movies. I don't play the guy who gets the girl, and he's a bad guy who just makes the right decisions. I don't know who that guy is. So, I ended up watching Bruce Willis's movies.

CE: Ha.

NS: I got hip to Bruce Willis. It was, like, you know what? He's able to hold his own, and it made a lot of sense. I connected to it, for that.

CE: Yeah, yeah.

NS: I definitely make a very strong connection to music and film for my research, and to make sure that I get in the zone.

CE: You had mentioned The Replacements as an influence, especially while making Brick. I grew up about half an hour from San Clemente, where you filmed Brick. In the Laguna Hills/ Laguna Beach area. I felt the kind of dynamic, complex, darker suburban high school experience that's in Brick. I mean, not the drugs and all that, but more the idiosyncratic head space, and that nothing's really clear and good and polished. The Replacements were huge for me in high school, because of that. You just walk down those nice, clean suburban streets of Orange County, and listen to that lyric: "We'll inherit the Earth,/ But we don't want it!" And it fits, you know?

NS: One day, when I was a teenager, I heard Let It Be on vinyl. Somebody put on Let it Be, and I was, like: “Wait a minute. These guys are completely telling me everything I needed to hear." And with the utmost sincerity and truth, in spite of everything, in spite of–- it sounds like they shouldn't be able to do this.

CE: Right, right.

NS: If you could sound just like the underdog, that's what those guys did. There's a great biography you should check out on the 'Mats [The Replacements: All Over But the Shouting: An Oral History by Jim Walsh]. It's an oral history, like a Please Kill Me kind of thing. I mean, if I can work with anybody outside of the film industry, creatively, it would be Mr. Westerberg. I think that the guy is able to channel a very specific kind of truth.

That's how I tend to pick and choose my roles, and how I tend to perform my roles. I tend to perform characters who work in spite of, and to me that's how Westerberg works. Like, how do you tell the truth in spite of, and then fill in the blank. That's what their music is to me. Like: in spite of not having a girl, not having a job, not being at home, not knowing what the fuck to do. How do you get that out there? I tend to play those roles and I tend to listen to that music and watch those movies.

CE: Yeah, I see that in your face, with your different characters.

There's this ballsy, ballsy conviction, that you throw around, but it's, kind of, stuck in place. It's mixing with this other energy, where your characters are coming from. It's really strong. I think some actors— younger, older, but especially younger actors— will try to do that in a stylized way, and try to hype it up, but it doesn't seem sincere.

There's some real conviction in where you're coming from. Like you're saying, you're coming from the voice of the underdog. That energy comes out in your characters, definitely.

NS: Well, you know, us punk rock actors are few and far between.

CE:[Laughs.] Right.

NS: [Laughs.] There's not a lot of us punk rock actors. But that's what I call it, punk rock acting.

CE: Oh, that's a good way to put it. That's a good way to put it.

The mark of a true auteur

CE: So, tell me about working on The Brothers Bloom.

NS: Rian [Johnson] was doing The Brothers Bloom. Because the Brick family is just that–- a family–- he made sure that a couple of us from Brick did The Brothers Bloom. They were trotting all around Europe, and I came out to Serbia to do a little part that's in the beginning of the movie. I play opposite Mark Ruffalo in the scene. I got to hang out with Mark and spend time with Adrian [Brody], and ended up getting to know the new family. It was amazing.

I mean, the mark of a true auteur is coming up with a flick, and then hiring the exact right people to work on that flick with you.

CE: Right.

NS: Rian does that like I've never seen it done before. I showed up to Serbia and I met these actors, whom I'm a huge fan of. I'm a huge fan of these actors, and it was like hanging out with an uncle, like an estranged uncle or a second cousin, whom I just happened to have not seen for a long time. There's just this connection. It was a fun time. The role is just a simple role. We figured it out when I got there. The guy who I play is called The Duke. He is loosely based on the Thin White Duke [David Bowie], of course, because everything is [laughs].

I just showed up, played this fun character, and I had a great time. Just like I said, it's sort of like being at home, and I had to go halfway around the world to find it. It's going to be a really good flick, and I don't even have a big part in it.

CE: That sounds sweet. When you see the work and read the writing of different filmmakers, especially auteurs, you notice that they develop these families. Like Jarmusch, and the actors he works with. And the older auteurs [who wrote for Cahiers du Cinema]–- Rohmer, Godard and all those cats. And more recently, Spike Lee and Linklater, they're working with the same people again and again. It's amazing to see, like you're saying, the families that emerge. The actors will play various characters, and new actors join in on later films, but it doesn't seem out of place.

NS: To me, the most important connection while making a movie, whether the movie is good or bad, or the script is good or bad, or the actors are good or bad: it could all be helped and pushed along as long as we they're all making the same movie. I don't know if that makes any sense to you.

CE: No, it does. It does.

NS: The only way that I could put it is that we're all making the same movie. We're all trying to do our little part to get the same grand scheme and concept across. That's where that collaboration and that family come in. And that's why, as long as he'll have me, I'll drop whatever the fuck I'm doing and show up for Rian Johnson. It's an honor. To be able do it. It makes me feel complete. It makes me feel like I've done my job.

CE: Definitely.

"And that's what I want to do." ....

"And that's communication."

NS: Let's get this out of the way. My favorite movie is The Cockfighter. It's a Monte Hellman film, starring Warren Oates. Monte is my favorite director and Warren is my favorite actor. Those are guys who worked together a lot. Warren also worked with Peckinpah a lot–- Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia is another favorite movie of mine. Those were guys who found each other, and found out that they could get a grand scheme across by maintaining that relationship.

CE: Speaking of Peckinpah. In Bring Me the Head, there's that scene where he [Warren Oates] is running through the mountains and cavorting with the woman, then she's taken away by the biker [Kris Kristofferson]. Later, Warren shoots both bikers dead, in retalliation. It's just, it's just so jarring. At the same time, when I saw it, I was floored with the grace that the guy had.

NS: It is a Peckinpah film: it's all about the great, true, honest, sincere sort of violence that you would expect out of it. Something that I respond to is: there has been an emasculation of young men in film, as far as I'm concerned, over the last 15, 20 years.

Masculinity, and the true archetypical concept of what it means to be a man– it's been lost. Of course, you go into the western, and the John Houston, John Sturges, and the John Ford whole concept, and then you bring it up to Hellman and Peckinpah, in the 60's and 70's. These were guys who were telling very basic stories. They were telling classic tragedies, in an accessible way.

CE: Right.

NS: I don't see a lot of that being made these days. And so, I really appreciate it. I think movies like that cover the basics. There's a reason why we still read Shakespeare today. Those guys were telling very similar stories. And that's what I want to do. That's why I do it: to get very basic concepts of communication across.

CE: Yeah.

NS: Then, we have a guy like David Lynch. His movies are pure cinema. In my mind, I don't think that there's really anybody who is more versed in using cinema to communicate what you can only communicate in cinema, than Lynch. He uses every element of film– whether it's narrative, whether it's dialogue, whether it's visual, whether it's movement, or editing– and it's to tell a complete story that is a cinematic story. That isn't a painting, or a picture, or an essay.

I think that Lynch goes beyond all of the tricks to create a visceral experience that could only be described in a movie. And I want to see more of that. I think guys like P.T. Anderson do it. I think, obviously, guys like Rian Johnson do it. I think Chan-Wook Park does it. Chan-Wook Park's movies, coming out of Korea, are like the best movies being made right now. The Vengeance Trilogy, in my mind, is the best series in years.

CE: Old Boy is so, so gorgeous and strong.

NS: He's taking very basic concepts of masculinity, of revenge, of responsibility– things that existed thousands of years ago, in stories– and he is making them accessible, in a modern sense. And that's communication. That is something to work toward. It's out there. It's happening. And I'm just trying to do my little part and make my way in there, so I get to hang out with some of these guys.

CE: Just to go back to what you were saying about everybody making the same movie. I definitely hear that– my father is a theater professor, so I can see where you're getting with that.

It seemed like that happened on Still Green, on some level. There are no actors that are acting outside of the other ones, or beyond the others. All the scenes work together to tell you the story of this house that these friends are in, and of their time together. How did you like working with the family of Still Green, so to speak?

NS: They were really accommodating, they really went beyond. I've worked on a lot of independent films where I can say the people were accommodating and helpful for an independent movie, which means, all things considered, it was still great. On Still Green: in any respect-- on the biggest movie in the world-- these people would have still been the most helpful, the most accommodating, the most understanding group. From Jon [Artigo], who is– not only is Jon always in a good mood, but he's very accessible. He's always willing to give it up to you as an actor, in terms of forcing you to do your job and stop and help you work something out. He doesn't pretend to have all the answers, but he's there to guide you, he's there to direct you. He did a great job of it! Then, being able to have the writer on the set, being able to have Georgia [Menides] there, is a huge blessing and a huge benefit. You end up with these questions, like: "What is the intent here?" And you want an answer– you want a strict answer, sometimes. Of course, the person who wrote the thing is going to be the best and most qualified to give you that answer. It was great having her there.

And the other actors were a lot of fun: whether it was the kids from Hollywood, who were all there to inject a little bit of by-the-book professionalism, or it was the kids from Florida, who were there to work their buts off and do something completely new. It helped everybody out. Everybody had a foothold, one way or another.

CE: Right. Is there a favorite scene you have in the movie, or something you were glad you got to do, as an actor?

NS: I gotta look at it as the big picture. There were some really fun days, yeah. There were moments that I remember, viscerally. The peanut butter sandwich scene with Brandon Meyer [Daneck] was a pleasure, because I love working with that guy. We got to become good buddies and great comrades. That was nice. That scene in the canoe [with Meyer] was really groovy. It wasn't a big process trailer, giant film shoot. It was just a couple kids out in a canoe somewhere, and somebody was just shooting it. And we talk about authenticity, and that was, like, authentic. You know?

CE: Yeah.

NS: Two boys going out for a boat ride!

Our Refreshing Conversations Are Coming Back

2009-05-15T12:45:00.028-05:00

Dear reader, internet wanderer, and fellow conversationalist,

Hello. How are you?

You may find it peculiar that there have not been any new posts in over a year. We feel the same way. However, fear not, as conversations, etc. will be re-entering the blogosphere, your status updates, tweets, person-to-person conversations, and hearts. This is happening within the next few weeks.

As a close friend, professor, and co-conversationalist told me when I freaked out over the cold weather and and overwhelming layers of clothing & silences during my first New England winter: "It's not death, it's just dormancy." We were just going through a hiatus of producing conversations and other web site ephemera for you. The hiatus is just about wrapped up, and we could not be happier about that.

We will be coming back strong, with a string of lively interviewers for you. We will also be exploring other conversation-based avenues that will go beyond the standard "intro, transcript, hypertexted links" we and other sites provide. This includes perpetually adding to the "Left Unsaid" cornucopia of personal stories about those things we don't get to say, fully articualte, or only have words for after the fact.

So, thank you for stopping by the site, whether you were with us at the beginning, or you've visited in the last year and thought, "WTF?! Such cool interviews, and they've left me high and dry for months?"

We will be back with regularly posted conversations and other refreshing content quite soon.

In the meantime, enjoy the video and music "conversation" below.

Thanks for your interest, patience, and pinky swear to come back soon.

Shahin I. Beigi
conversations, etc.
* founder & fellow
conversationalist

Kronos Quartet & Tanya Tagaq working on a collaboration.

Carsie Blanton: Wonder in Song

2008-05-01T21:02:00.042-05:00

Carsie Blanton: about to delight your ears.
Photo by Chris Kendig.

I can't stop listening. To Carsie Blanton's album, Ain’t So Green, that is. I picked it up some months ago, after seeing her perform at Club Passim. What kind of album is it, and what does it sound like?

The album is:

* Hypnotic in sound (try not playing it often).

* Shaped by the undulations of Carsie's voice, mood, and melody.

* A voice offering careful contemplations and ambiguous convictions.

* Both a keenly-worded critique of the comforts of love, and a tribute to its wondrous delights.

* 13 songs full, including a hidden track that will make you weak at the knees and strong in your heart. This last track is akin to a kiss on your lover's eyelids, or their kiss upon yours (mix tape makers, share!).

It sounds like:

* A stroll through jazz vocalist stylings, folk articulations, and pop witticisms.

* A lover admitting the range of their outward loyalties and hidden reservations.

* The double-edged and layered days of lovesick, love-full, & love-almost.

* Early-fall epiphanies that you get during quiet, leaf-kicking walks.

* The simple pleasure of lounging in the lush, wet grass of spring.

This explanation is purposefully filled with imagery, openness... and thought bullets. Though I have lived with the album, and rejoice in the twists and tug-of-wars of each song, I find it hard to codify. Nor would I like to play the game of "what do you get when you mix Singer X with Band Y, and leave them on a desert island" with her tunes. I've played the album for refined art collectors and jaw-dropping tourists at my gallery job. I've introduced it to friends who have since become hooked on her memorable way with melodies. When it's in my headphones —wherever I may be — I end up whistling and humming along.

After the Club Passim show, Carsie and I shared thoughts on her songs, poets we've learned from, and and our daily rituals. She just may become your new favorite, by the interview's end. If so, get yourself to a rollicking show of hers. In case you need more, pick up Ain't So Green and let it transfix and delight you.

Hellos

CE: So, outside of Club Passim. I'm having a conversation with Carsie Blanton. And you are living where?
CB: Philadelphia.
CE: And you are how old?
CB: 22.
CE: And you moved from Oregon?
CB: Mmhmm.
CE: Did you go to school out there?
CB: No, I grew up in Virginia. I was actually homeschooled. I moved to Eugene when I was 16, and I moved to Philadelphia last year.
CE: What were you doing in Eugene?
CB: Mostly, worked some jobs, played in a couple bands — did some slam poetry, actually.
CE: How did you get into that?
CB: I had been writing for a long time, already, and I liked the idea of a format where I could write poetry and then perform it.
CE: You liked the idea of being in this performative space?
CB: Right. I had a couple songs, but I wasn't writing regularly. I liked the idea of being able to perform anything I wrote, as long as it was conducive to a live crowd like that.
CE: Did you do this weekly?
CB: It was more, like, monthly. There were these competitive poetry slams. There were actually a lot of slam poets in Eugene, Oregon, of all places. So, they get together a couple hundred people on a Friday night. There would be, like, 15 people competing. Then, you get judged, first three rounds, and all that. I bet you're familiar with the slam format.
CE: Yeah. You'd compete sometimes, as well?
CB: I did. I never got very far as a slam poet, I have to admit. Ha ha ha. But I enjoyed it.
CE: Are there any nationally known slam poets that speak to you?
CB: At the time, I was really into Saul Williams. There's a poet, Alix Olson, who did a national tour. She came to Eugene. That was probably when I got excited about it. She is one of these queer, feminist, kind of angry, young poets. She's very good.
CE: Yeah, she's really emotive. She's sharp, but then you kind of cry.
CB: Yup, she's great.
CE: So, I had made a famous tape that went all over Massachusetts colleges, from her performance at Clark. I'd heard about this tape from people at other schools in this area — it was around 2000, 2001. They'd say, "Oh, there's this Clark tape." I would reply, "Oh, I made that." I had no idea that it had this history.
CB: That's great.

Paradoxes & "What Most Moves Me"

CE: So, you found a space to write songs more. How did the songwriting develop?
CB: By the time I moved to Eugene, I had already written a couple and thought of it as kind of the ideal art form. I was already performing a lot of covers and writing poetry. It seemed like an elegant thing, to bring them together. And I'd always been inspired by a lot of songwriters.

So, I went out there and was singing back-ups in a band. I was playing with Nicole Martin, a friend of mine. We had a duo, with two guitars, harmonies, and stuff, called The Short Skirts. We started playing together regularly. That was when I started writing regularly, getting more into the creative side of it.

CE: You were in another band that you were singing back-up for?
CB: Yeah, it was a funk band, called the Champagne Syndicate. I went on tour with them, out west.
CE: Okay. Covers. What were you covering then, and why?
CB: Mostly, Patty Griffin. We did a lot of Patty Griffin songs. We did a couple of Nina Simone songs and some older, jazzy stuff. I know we did "Stormy Monday." One or two Ani DiFranco songs; we were both big Ani devotees at that point.
CE: Which Nina Simone songs?
CB: We did "Sugar in My Bowl."
CE: Wow, wow.
CB: That's what we were doing, Nicole and I. I would find some more obscure stuff, occasionally. There are a lot of songwriters in my family, and I know a lot of people that are songwriters, so I did a few covers of songs that weren't, you know, popular. I had picked them up from one place or another. I covered some Leonard Cohen, some Joni Mitchell, and some older folk, as well.
CE: Which Leonard Cohen did you choose?
CB: Well I did "Famous Blue Raincoat" and "Hey, That's No Way To Say Goodbye."
CE: Wow, wow. He was one of the most influential artists to me, in high school.
CB: Uh huh. I can't blame you.
CE: From 14 to 21, I carried his book, Stranger Music, almost always with me.

When you sing these songs, they're obviously emotionally charged. There's a range of emotions going on in your music, as well.

CB: Yeah.
CE: Are there times when it really hits you, in the middle of singing? Or, what brought you to sing "Famous Blue Raincoat?" If anything is too personal, just let me know.
CB: No, not at all. It's hard to say. I've always listened to and sung what most moves me, and it's hard to say why it moves me. I'm definitely attracted to poetry and more complex uses of the language. I enjoy Leonard Cohen more than Donovan, or somebody who was a little more popular, but a lot more pop-driven. I'm always more attracted to the really emotional and lyrical stuff.
CE: Sure.
CB: I appreciate good insight, and insightful and original use of the language.
CE: Which I hear in your music. Like the song, "Willing to Fall." That has the whole discussion in there. It's very layered. The phrases are very charged. It sounds like you’re convincing a story to someone, but it turns out, there wasn't enough convincing. You're releasing your conviction, by the time of the chorus.
CB: Yeah. That's definitely a theme in my music. Somebody actually gave me a quote one time that was something like: what makes my songs interesting is that I've mastered the ambiguous. Ha. I thought that was a good way to say it. What makes a song interesting, to me, is that it says more than one thing — its complexity. In a lot of my songs, I'm actually saying two things that seem to be contradictory, and then, trying to marry them by the end.
CE: Sure.
CB: "Willing to Fall," it starts out: "I love you so much that/ I feel like I've already lost you." That was this idea that when you're closest to someone is when you are most afraid of being apart from them. And just the inherent contradictions of being in love, which is full of them, of course. That's a good example of trying to bring to light this paradox that we all live in, you know?

CE: Mmhmm. Hmmm. I'd imagine you memorize poems?
CB: Mmhmm. Ha.
CE: Let's talk about a poem or poet we could get on a level with.
CB: Sure. Actually, it's funny, because I was writing my set list and I was going to say something about this poet, Jane Hirschfield. Do you know her?
CE: No.
CB: I wrote a song recently that was directly inspired by a poem, which I don't often do. I mean, I'm often inspired by poetry, in general, but this was kind of like taking the concept of the poem and rewriting the story.
CE: Are the same characters in the song that appear in the poem?
CB: They're not. It's more like, there's a punch line to this poem. I took the punch line, and then rebuilt the rest.
CE: Oh, that's great.
CB: So the poem is called "Da Capo," and it goes... [We are stalled by car noise & voices of people walking by.] Should I wait until the car passes?
CE: Yeah.
CB: Heh, heh. Um. [Pause, pause, pause.] So it is:

Da Capo

Take the used-up heart like a pebble
and throw it far out.

Soon there is nothing left.
Soon the last ripple exhausts itself
in the weeds.

Returning home, slice carrots, onions, celery.
Glaze them in oil before adding
the lentils, water, and herbs.

Then the roasted chestnuts, a little pepper, the salt.
Finish with goat cheese and parsley. Eat.
You may do this, I tell you, it is permitted.
Begin again the story of your life.

-Jane Hirschfield

CE: Wow.
CB: I love that poem. I love that there are really only two lines in it that are meaningful, at all. The rest is just some imagery that you could relate to. At the beginning, she says, "Take the used up heart... /and throw it far out." At the end, she says, "… it is permitted./ Begin again the story of your life." So, it's this beautiful poem about starting over, but she only uses ten words to say it.
CE: Sure. Everything is around the ritual of food, per se.
CB: Right. Cooking and eating as the daily rote of living. So, I took that and wrote a song called "Buoy." The punch line of the song (as I think of it) — the last verse — is: "What fool keeps holding onto something after it is fell apart?/ Hey you, send it to the warehouse/ Get yourself another heart." It's that same idea: there are an infinite number of beginnings; it's not just the one chance.
CE: And the work, the real work, is to get yourself to start over. Just as, the real work, ironically, is to feed yourself.
CB: That's what I love about that poem. She's gently and subtly using this metaphor of eating, because it's just another thing you have to do. Throwing away your heart and getting a new one, as well as cooking your soup. It's just daily life, you know?

"Buoy," or rewriting a poem by way of a song. It is permitted.

Bound for a Song

CE: Who do you go see for shows, when you're not playing with them?
CB: That's a great question, because it's fewer and fewer people, the more shows I play. I'm crazy about a local band in Philadelphia right now, called The Lowlands. They're a bluegrass band. Their singer-songwriter, Chris Kasper, is a brilliant, brilliant lyricist. Brilliant melodies. Great voices. Besides that, I always see Patty Griffin, whenever she's nearby.
CE: I have her set list, on the side of my book shelf, from when she played with Emmylou [Harris] and Gillain [Welch].
CB: Wow, I went to one of those shows.
CE: It was so good. Do you guys take the Mass Pike west, to go down to Philly?
CB: What's the number of the Mass Pike?
CE: 90.
CB: We take 90. 90 to 95, I guess.
CE: If you pass Worcester, that's where "Making Pies" is about.
CB: Really? Worcester? Huh.
CE: Yeah, it's about Table Talk Pies, in Worcester. She's imagining herself as a worker there. I went to school in Worcester and lived there for several years. It's interesting to hear the song. When she was on a Maine radio station, I heard her talk about it. It's this factory that I've known about, driven by. These pies, they're like 7-11 pies.
CB: Little peach pies or cherry pies?
CE: Yeah.

CB: The other artist I'm really into is Devon Sproule. We toured a little bit together. She's a total genius, I think. She's one of the few contemporaries out there that is not known well, that every time I see her, she completely blows my mind. I have to go lay down for a while. She's that good.
CE: What does she do, live, that hits you?
CB: It's mainly her songwriting. She's a meticulous lyricist, as well as being a total jazzhead, and kind of obsessed with jazz guitar and chord progressions. So, she's juxtaposing these beautiful, very, very poetic lyrics about — mostly about Virginia (where she lives), domestic life, and these simple concepts — over these complex and catchy jazz chords and melodies. She's kind of writing Cole Porter standards, only, about modern life.

It's great. She's playful and cute and sweet when she's on stage. She reaches for notes that she might not hit and says really goofy stuff. She completely draws the audience into this childlike world that she lives in.
CE: That's amazing.

CE: You see this [singing professionally] as an indefinite thing, I would imagine.
CB: Yeah, yeah. When I moved to Philly, from Eugene, I went at it like: I don't have any idea about how to go about starting a music career. I'm going to go to Philly and, basically, see what falls into my lap. So far, it's been great things. Lots of great shows and great people helped me out. So, I'm still kind of sitting with my lap open, hoping that things keep falling there, you know?

CE: What are you listening to, in the car?
CB: The Quebe Sisters. They're this band, from Texas of three singing sisters with a country-swing sound. They're such a joy to listen to. It's unabashedly bubbly music.
CE: Nice. What are you reading these days?
CB: Right now, I'm reading non-fiction. I'm reading a book by Temple Grandin. She's an autistic woman who designs humane slaughter houses. She has a thesis about how autistic people think visually, and that's why they're hard for non-autistic people to relate to. Most people think linguistically, while animals think visually. She describes her life with animals and the way she relates to them. It's really interesting.
CE: Did she get famous? Was this a New York Times Best Seller, from a while back?
CB: I think she was on NPR, and probably on New York Times book lists.

CE: Have you ever written a song around non-fiction? Not from your own story, but from a major event, or a political concern.
CB: Not really. I base most of my songs from stories of people's lives. They're not always from mine; they're always just stories — personal stories — rather than stories that I'm not directly related to, in some way.
CE: Sure, sure. So, they're stories you bear witness to?
CB: Exactly. I've dabbled at trying to write more politically, but I have a hard time thinking of anything interesting to say about things that I'm not intimately familiar with.

CE: What drew me to your music is the world it creates, and the possibilities it offers for things like longing. I'd say, there's some relationship to environments, too (for example, "Flight to Philadelphia"). It seems to come from the way you may relate to things — your worldview. I'm interested in what you hold onto: either convictions (like, "This is how I wish things were in human relationships”), or tactile things and experiences.

CB: That's a good question. I find, the more I live a creative life — the more attention I put on writing as my profession — the less abstractly I tend to live my life. So, I'm into tactile pleasures, like dancing and food, stuff like that. In my day-to-day life, I spend a lot less time thinking abstract thoughts, unless they're bound for a song. I spend a lot more time doing things like shopping for tea cups. I'm really into tea cups. I have a dog that I love. I do a ton of dancing. I dance three or four nights a week, right now.
CE: Classes, or?
CB: I actually teach in Philly. I do social dancing, as well. Swing and blues, which are both social dances, rather than choreographed.
CE: You teach choreographed?
CB: No, I teach social dancing. I went to a dance here last night, and there's another one tonight, a little outside of Boston.

Wonderment & Delight

CE: Something that hit me about your music was the way that sound — you offer these aural pleasures, so to speak, with your guitar, with your voice. There is something about certain sounds that you're making. Either, how do you get to these sounds, or what is the sound that you want to make? That you hear in the natural world, or that you've heard in your head, that you haven't hit yet.

CB: I would say that the musical aspect of what I do is the most intuitive and least premeditated. I tend to mull over concepts and lyrics a lot, and not as much about the structure of songs. I'll spend a lot of time coming up with chord progressions that I like, but not a lot of time on melodies. I feel they need to come from not a logical place, but from an intuitive place.
CE: Sure, sure.
CB: As far as the sound that I want to make, I'm thinking a lot about that right now. I'm trying to think about what my next album should be like. The closest thing that I could say is that I'm going for a feeling, more than a sound. The feeling is kind of like: being privy to a 4-piece jazz ensemble in the '30s, with Billie Holliday or some incredible vocalist in the front, that feels really intimate and really creative — relentlessly creative. Something unexpected is happening at every moment.
CE: Sure. Do you listen to Rickie Lee Jones?
CB: I do.
CE: I hear that in her.
CB: Definitely.
CE: Although her music is a bit poppy, when you see her live, you see how raw and rawly orchestrated it is.
CB: Mmhmm. Rather than a sound, I want to be able to create a world, like you were saying. Create a world where the audience is completely transfixed and just delighted. Delight is the main emotion I'm going for. I want there to be this sense of wonderment and delight in every moment. That's what I try to do with my lyrics and my melodies, and that's what I hope to do when I involve more instrumentation.

CE: Beautiful, beautiful. Maybe a few last questions. We were talking about feelings and albums. Let's talk about albums that, for you, capture a feeling, space, era, or mood. Albums that conjure up these whole, autonomous worlds — these possible worlds.
CB: Well, one of my favorites for that is — actually it's my favorite album — Patty Griffin's first record, Living with Ghosts. The amazing thing about it, to me, is that she's completely created an alternate universe, with just her vocals and guitar. There's nothing else happening on the whole record. There are only ten songs, but you completely go there with her. From the first note, she brings you there and you stay there. It's this incredible depth and complexity of emotion. It's just relentless, from the beginning to the end. It's so fresh. Every song is fresh. Every idea is fresh. Every word is fresh. So, that's the epitome of that, for me. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Radiohead's Ok Computer is one of my favorites.
CE: Sure.
CB: That kind of creates a world by creating a lush atmosphere. With Thom Yorke's voice, he just — the same thing — he pulls out that deep emotion.
CE: Any songs that resonate with you, on that album?
CB: I really like "Let Down."
CE: What's the chorus on that one?
CB: "Let down and hangin' around/Crushed like a bug on the ground"
CE: Yeah.
CB: I love that one. And then, "Breathe," or whatever. It has some weird name. The chorus is: "Breathe, keep breathing." That was the one that was on the soundtrack for… oh, that's right. It's called "Exit Music for a Film" because they put it in Romeo and Juliet. So, those two. I haven't listened to that in a while, but I spent many, many hours listening to it.
CE: When you put it on, it hits you. You're like, "Oh, wow," from the beginning.
CB: Maybe I don't listen to it because it's so nostalgic for me. It's the soundtrack to a good three years of my life.

CE: Any books of poems that have hit you in the same way? Adrienne Rich always does that to me. Her books are like complex concept albums. I'd recommend getting The Dream of a Common Language and reading "Twenty-One Love Poems."
CB: For me, the staples are Collected Poems of e.e. cummings. I've read probably every poem in that book.
CE: Any numbers that hit you, or, by the first lines?
CB: Gosh. What recently? I'm trying to remember.
CB: Have you ever played one with guitar?
CB: No. I don't go in for that, because they're not built with a melodic structure, necessarily; I wouldn't presume to be able to write one. I just memorized "my youthful lady will have other lovers." Do you know that one?
CE: I don't know that one, closely.
CB: See if you remember it:

my youthful lady will have other lovers

my youthful lady will have other lovers
yet none with hearts more motionless than i
when to my lust she pleasantly uncovers
the thrilling hunger of her possible body.

Noone can be whose arms more hugely cry
whose lips more singularly starve to press her-
noone shall ever do unto my lady
what my blood does,when i hold and kiss her

(or if sometime she nakedly invite
me all her nakedness deeply to win
her flesh is like all the 'cellos of night
against the morning's single violin)

[Not in poem:
CB: Shoot, I'm missing part of it: "like a bright…trees," um, oh...
CE: I got it at home.
CB: So, the last line is: "My youthful lust will have no further ladies."
CE: Wow, wow. ]

[* remainder of poem:]

more far a thing than ships or flowers tell us,
her kiss furiously me understands
like a bright forest of fleet and huge trees
-then what if she shall have a hundred fellows?

she will remember,as i think,my hands

(it were not well to be in this thing jealous.)
My youthful lust will have no further ladies.

- e. e. cummings

CB: I'm just a sucker for that kind of turn of phrase, you know?
CE: Yeah.
CB: It starts out with one complete concept: my youthful love will have other lovers. And you're going along, oh yes, she's young, and she'll go have other lovers. He loves her, but it's passing. Then, the end is: "my youthful lust will have no further ladies." Again, it's that paradox of love, where you feel, at once, all the possibility and all the doom of the situation. Ha.
CE: There's a delicacy to his intensity, definitely. Like in the one that ends: "nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands." It's delicate, but strong.
CB: And so clever, and so smart. In one of his introductions in that book, he says, the trick of his poetry can be summed up by one burlesque joke, and that is: "'Would you hit a woman with a child?—No, I'd hit her with a brick.'" Which is so true. You read his poems, and so much of it, like "my youthful lady," is puns. They're these very intricate puns. He just strings you all along, to the end.
CE: Like "o by the by."

CB: Exactly. There's Wisława Szymborska, who's Polish. She has a book called View with a Grain of Sand.
CE: She keeps coming up out with new stuff. I keep reading her.
CB: That is the only one of hers that I've gotten into, but I've enjoyed it. And then, Mary Oliver is my perennial favorite.
CE: I was going to ask how you felt about her. Some people are really into her, some people aren't.
CB: No, I love her.
CE: I hear a connection between your songs and her poems: this whole thing about reminding yourself of the world around you, and, at the end, of the world inside.
CB: There's the theme of changing perspective repeatedly, through a piece. She starts out looking at a blade of grass, talking about the blade of grass. Then, by the end she's kind of talking about life and existence and God. And you completely buy it. It's such an easy transition for her to make. I respect that, and I like that kind of writing.
CE: Do you know "Five A.M. in the Pinewoods?"
CB: How does it go?
CE: The end is, um: "I was thinking:/ so this is how you swim inward,/ so this is how you flow outward,/ so this is how you pray."
CB: Yup, yup, it's a great one.

CE: It's funny. I was 19 years old. I mean, I'm 26 now, I'm not much older. I was a sophomore in college. I was coming back home. I said, "Let me show you what I'm reading in college!" I read this honey poem ["Honey at the Table"] from American Primitive.
CB: Mmhmm.
CE: I mean, my father's a content and active theater professor, but most of my family are successful, math and science people. I read my mother this poem about Mary Oliver [/the persona/ "you," the reader] eating honey at her table, and wanting to be — becoming, really — this creature, this bear, going up a tree, to the source of the honey.
And she says, jokingly, "So, you're getting these scholarships, and we're paying more money, so you could read poems about honey?"

CB: Ha, ha.
CE: We laughed at the ridiculousness of it—
CB: Yeah.
CE: But the necessity — it's almost like, if that's how you see the world, or if there are certain things that you want to connect with, then, it's necessary. That is your language. That, to me, is political. This whole site is part of a bigger picture where I like to share culture with people; as opposed to leaving it "up there," bringing it down here, and making it intimate. That calls for the real work, of having to look at it closely, and having to earnestly appreciate it. Then, you're not separate from it, you know?
CB: Mmhmm. Right.

CE: Um, what are you looking forward to, in the spring?
CB: This spring? The first thing that comes to mind is warmth, because it's pretty cold. I don't have any plans, honestly. So, I guess I'm looking forward to the possibility of travel and making a record.
CE: Nice. Pretty, pretty. Thank you.
CB: Thank you.

Ain't So Green: play, bask, dance, and repeat.

Still Green: Teen Film Makes Waves

2008-03-05T17:43:00.054-05:00

Teen films have a way of taking you back. Whether the film is a spot-on representation of your high school years, or it makes you think, "that is not it, at all," they often make your reckon, reminisce and reconsider that time. Those years of being with, coming up, living under, going through, and growing up. The good news is, many of us have crossed that tumultuous threshold. That's also the bad news. When since have friends been as available? How much time a week, a month, do you have to figure yourself out? How heartfelt was each turn on your adolescent learning curve? Among other things, the treacherous certainties of adulthood make this writer sometimes yearn for the tenuous openness of youth.

Still Green is a teen film that wades through the the quintessential end of that threshold: the summer after high school. The story line: 1) friends, enemies and lovers wile away their time in a beach house; 2) a member of the party dies; 3) the surviving ones are left to come together, cope, and try to live on. However, what unravels is a complex mosaic of: little conversations and big events, echoing moods and sudden changes, individual resolve and collective uncertainty. The characters flow through sun-drenched scenes of coastal Florida. They share thoughts both shallow and deep. They are filled with longing, yet, anchored by the lingering they still have to undergo. Their disposition is akin to holding your ear to a conch shell, hoping for the right melody, all the while being pitched on the undertow of the current moment. The viewer is a trusted confidante, as the ensemble ride the currents of their fears, friendships, and transformations.

Doug Lloyd, producer, and I met at the start of college. We had just finished "that summer," and were on to our alleged adult lives.We have kept in touch, and have seen each other ride the waves of our twenties. Georgia Menides, writer and producer, and I crossed paths around the time she and Doug were starting their film company, Uncovered Productions. I had met up with them during Still Green's first run of festivals-- a successful streak that included awards for Best Narrative Feature (New England Film and Video Festival) and Best Ensemble (Spirit of Independence category; Fort Lauderdale International Film Festival). They were joined by Dave Weston, post-production assistant, at a BU screenwriting class screening. I had seen the film a few times before (as a potential music consultant), but not this cut, nor on the big screen. I put the sea conch to my memories, and heard it resonate with the film. Afterwards, we talked about mermaids and flirtations, the actors and their convincing spark, films and memorable popcorn moments.

Yeses Along the Way

DL: We don't need it to be edited. You can definitely do whatever you want. I trust you.
CE: So, so, Still Green. After the BU grad school screenwriting class screening. I'm talking with Doug Lloyd, producer. You did quite a lot on this film. Now, we're just walking over to some coffee. We were talking about audience reactions to the movie. What is it like to have gone through several investor screenings, test screenings, and now, showing it at festivals?

DL: Well, first of all, this is my favorite cut. That was cool, to show my favorite cut. In the past, everyone that we screened it to--at all the test screenings--- had some connection to us. It's hard to be completely unbiased when having some sort of connection. At the festival, there were a lot of people there who had no idea who were, just personally. It was cool to get a stranger's opinion of it, to see strangers loving this project.
CE: Right, right. You just did the 32nd Annual New England Film and Video festival. You guys got the award for Best Narrative Feature. How did that feel, this being the first official film festival that it's gone to?
DL: Well, it felt great. That in itself was reassuring. Not only did we know that people really liked it, but they said so in an award form. It also takes some of the pressure off. Now, we can go to other festivals and we don't have to worry, "Oh my god, is something going to happen? Is something going to happen?" Because, at the very first festival, we get best feature.
CE: You've already secured this interest in the festival market. It's a big yes being thrown your way.
DL: Exactly, yeah!
CE: Which must be great. It seems like there's stress, on and off, while making a movie, but there are also all these yeses along the way. Like working with the cinematographer, Brian Crane.
DL: A lot of things just came our way. We really lucked out, but it's not complete luck because we tried to get ourselves in a position where it would happen. Getting Sarah Jones as the lead actress. She was incredible. This movie would not be the same without her as a lead.
CE: She's still on Big Love?
DL: She is still on Big Love. Getting her, getting all of our other main actors and actresses, and getting Brian Crane. Brian really knows what he's doing. Even though its' a low-budget, independent movie, it does not look like it.
CE: It looks gorgeous.

Maybe There Are Mermaids, Dude

[We reach our destination. I separate from Doug, as he and Dave get the coffees. Georgia and I look for a place in this multi-floor bookstore for the four of us to continue the conversation.]

CE: I'll just start recording.
GM: Right, right, because you never know, something funny can happen on the escalator, on the way up here, and you get it.
CE: Let's start talking about the movie.
GM: If you said, "Well, I don't understand why she does a, b, c." That kind of stuff, I like. My favorite thing, honestly, is when people start discussing why Kerri [Sarah Jones] makes the choices she does toward the end of the film. Some people get so upset, and I love that. They are like, "I love that girl, and she let me down." And this other guy was like, "What, a beautiful girl let you down? That happens all the time." I love that people have different opinions about it.
CE: The characters, even though they might be a little stylized, like in any movie, they're really believable. You're going to pick up on the character and think, "I would do this. I wouldn't do that." You're having a critical conversation about the characters. That just shows that, from the minor to the major ones, you have this high appreciation for them.

GM: If you're upset that she did that, then you care.

CE: I was wondering: are there any characters, considering the different script drafts and the way they've turned out on film, that you have strong feelings about? Maybe feelings regarding how they turned out, or from seeing the characters face to face. On the set, you were basically walking around with characters you wrote.
GM: Yeah, pretty much. Well, for Kerri… Sarah Jones looks nothing like how I pictured Kerri. I pictured a brunette, athletic, kind of girl.
CE: Hmm. Maybe even dark.
GM: Dark, yeah! Dark hair, dark skin, super cut. When I first saw her, it took a little adjusting, because she's this curvy, voluptuous blond. But then, I totally got into it: wait a minute, she's curvy and voluptuous. I pictured someone a little more spazzy, but she's way chill. You know, she's like [in a breathy tone], "Maybe there are mermaids, dude." So, I started to love how she basically took the lines that I wrote, and instead of everything I thought would be in them, made them completely different. And it worked perfectly.
CE: I think, for the audience, the idea of this late-teen blond girl having all these feelings and revelations could be a little unsettling; at the same time, you get on a level with her from the beginning.
GM: Yeah.

GM: Wait, I bet this is Doug. [She checks her cell. Then, to Doug, on cell:] So, were on the second floor.
CE: Yeah, we're on the second floor. In the art and architecture section.
GM: Second floor, by the new arrivals, in the art and architecture section. We're back here. Sweet!

CE: I think she really plays it well, in a balanced way. Not balanced in this predictable 50/50 way: not 50 percent this, 50 percent that. Her character is developed, and you see this range. There's the heavy stuff, the different topics—like the mermaid trope—which take on heavier meanings. Then, you also see her talking about boys, the whole penis-anaconda bit. She's even falling off the skateboard, in the very beginning.
GM: Yeah.
CE: You just follow her.
GM: She's got such a range.
CE: Yeah, I definitely feel you could be in the room with her, so to speak.

Sarah Jones (Kerri) has such a range, you can't help but
follow her character, as she unravels from scene to scene.

Like My Friend, So and So

GM: [To Doug and Dave, who have just arrived with coffee] Thank you. Oh, you didn't bring the sugar?
DL: Oh, I just heard the cream part. Let me get the sugar packets right now.
GM: Talk amongst yourselves—and I'll be right back--because we've been talking amongst ourselves.
DL: Heh, heh, heh.

CE: We were just talking about a couple things. The conversation led to Kerri. We were saying that all these people are having dynamic reactions to the characters. So many times, you either see dramatically heavy, sincere, overly-stylized and emotionally arresting American Beauty types of youth in teen films, or you see archetypal, predictable characters. And in Still Green, they are sincere and yet somewhat stylized. That said, I think it's done in a way that makes you care about them. You get the range of emotions from each character.It's an accolade of the film that the characters are believable, and that you want to kind of have a relationship with them. You do have a relationship with them-- you have a reactionary relationship, if not a compassionate one. Even the most critical person may say, "I can't believe this is happening." That means you're getting involved with the character enough, you're relating enough.
DL: You're connecting.
CE: For example, Sean [Noah Segan] has quite a character ark: he's able to be that artsy quiet kid, but also want to punch the heck out of someone.
DL: That's the thing. The worst thing that could happen is for someone to say, "Oh, I didn't care." If they're having strong emotions-- in whatever direction-- about what these characters are doing, then they're connected with them. And that's one of the things that I'm really proud about with this movie. It's definitely great for Georgia's writing. It shows that Georgia wrote it very well, the acting was great, and Jon's directing was great, too. With those three elements combined, they turned into very believable characters. You watch them, and you like them, because everyone finds someone that they connect with. It's like, "Oh, this is just like my friend, so and so."

Everyone Is on the Cusp

[Georgia is back with her finely tuned coffee. The conversation continues.]
CE: The film have has this complex mosaic of emotions and events going on.
GM: And it's all there. If you're the kind of person that pays attention, it is all there. But sure, you do kind of have to work for it. It might be in a glance or one line.
CE: Yeah.
DW: It's all right there, in that scene after the death. You see the sequence of every single person by themselves. It's really intense.
CE: Yeah.
GM: Yeah.
DL: Yeah.
DW: Everyone goes on their own, after you think they might want to be together.
DL: They're all dealing with it on their own. They're dealing with their different issues; not necessarily about the death, but how it relates to them.
CE: The voice-overs keep bringing up this week, how it's going to be different, and that after this week, everything will be different. This cusp quality is huge, throughout the film. It's there, with and without the death. And all the cusps they're on, with each other. Alan [Ryan Kelley], he's on the cusp of rationalizing and pushing out his feelings for the girl he likes. This person is on the cusp about that thing, and that person is on the cusp of another thing. Everyone is on the cusp.
GM: You're right, I hadn't thought about that. Sean is on the cusp of drawing. Daneck [Brandon Meyer] is on the cusp of should he or should he not sleep with Monica [Ashleigh Snyder], what if she gets pregnant again? Alan's on the cusp. Yeah, everyone is on the cusp.
CE: A cusp also means that they've gone somewhere, gone through something. It may not be believable to everyone. A criticism may be: Oh, kids don't really do that much drugs and drinking. Kids can't be that involved with their emotions. Or, they can't be both. But, everybody is.
DL: It's funny, because everyone really is.
DW: You worried so much about everything in high school. You didn't know how to deal with anything, so your emotions were all over the place.
DL: Exactly. The biggest thing in your life was emotion. Because you didn't know what was going to happen. All you knew was what you were feeling at that moment. And a lot of kids do drugs, and feel all that at the same time. I think it's what's so believable about the film. It's not the good kid versus the bad kid: the good kid dealing with their emotions and the bad kid doing drugs. No, everybody does everything. Everyone is mixtures, in all these different shades.
GM: We made those decisions. The good kid steals. The good kid definitely needs to be seen with the bong. The good girl definitely has to have sex.

CE: And scene by scene, it gets more mixed. Like, who's talking about The Outsiders? Everybody does, and from their own point of view. Even Bill [Douglas Spain], the biologist kid, who's like, "Why are we watching this movie?" He's the one who hits home with what the movie is about: "They can't go back, you know" [paraphrase]. This is such a great, self-reflective but natural scene. This is what you might do when you're with friends. You rent a movie, you all have a talk about it. This comment is so poignant, though, as it builds on and pushes the said theme along.

And the way the camera is positioned in certain scenes, you're implicated, if not involved. You're in the room. In The Outsiders scene, you're the one at other end of the couch. Maybe you're the one closest to the TV, who has to crane their neck. Or, when they're on the beach, you're sitting on the sand, nearby. Maybe you're part of that group, maybe you're not. Maybe you're an adult, seeing it from afar.

DL: I think that's different for each person. That's what gets the film the different responses. Some people do feel like they're really in the middle of it. They connect really well with it, and understand what the characters did. Other people see themselves as the parent that should be telling the kids what to do; even if they like the movie, they'll disagree with the actions. I can understand why someone, especially an adult, would say, "Maybe I will be that adult, to give them the control that they need to have, because they're just a bunch of kids, renting a beach house."

Sean (Noah Segan) and Alan (Ryan Kelley),
riding their own cusps.

Nothing Happens, but Everything Happens

CE: Let's discuss the films that Still Green is related to. If people have been saying, "I like it because it reminds me of these films." When you're dealing with investors, maybe you're selling it as a cross between a couple films.

GM: We get The Big Chill for teenagers, a lot.
DL: Yeah, there have actually been quite a few different comparisons. It's also a lot like Mean Creek, in some ways.
CE: There being no adult presence.
GM: Yeah, Ryan Kelley.
DL: Yeah, Ryan Kelley's in both movies! Also, the fact of having that one big decision that gets made, that some people agree with and others don't. They're also young kids dealing with death on their own, before they should have to deal with it.
CE: Mean Creek also takes it back to River's Edge, which brings up this issue of—I mean there are adults in River's Edge, but that was a film where critics said, "Where are the adults?"
GM: Yeah. That was the main theme of River's Edge.
CE: Why are the only adults Dennis Hopper (the sketchy druggy guy), or the parent that doesn't understand the Keanu Reeves character?
GM: The only adult that cares is Dennis Hopper's character.
CE: There are more and more films coming out where the adult presence isn't there. It's great how you guys did it, without making it the edgiest film.
GM: We weren't trying to make Kids. We weren't trying to make Bully. We weren't trying to make that kind of film. We did wan it to be edgy. At the same time, Doug and I have talked about how we feel some teen films go too extreme in the other direction. Everyone is suicidal and sadistic and smoking crack at age 13; well, that's as bad as saying everyone is going to the prom and picking dates and voting for best hairdo. We just wanted to present something in the middle.

CE: That's kind of like The Big Chill. Let's explore that film. Let's talk about your responses to the film and your feelings about people seeing parts of The Big Chill in Still Green.
DG: I saw The Big Chill, but it was so many years ago. I do remember that I really liked it. So it is cool, to have people comparing it to another movie that I know I liked. That people can watch this and be like, "Oh, it's just like this other movie that I personally love."

I love Still Green. No Matter what happens with it, I know that we made a movie that I just love. That is already a huge success, right there: I can sit down and watch a movie that I absolutely love, and I created it.

CE: Honestly, it's astounding. It can be a teen movie that people are going to remember in five years and say, "Wow! I'm glad that film was entered into the vocabulary!" Without it being American Beauty, without it trying to be a great American movie.

GM: Well, the thing about The Big Chill I like is that nothing happens, but everything happens. They basically have breakfast and they cook dinner, they go to sleep, they go for drives, and they go jogging. With Still Green, they go swimming, they party in that house, but everything happens inside those relationships, and what they're saying and what they're not saying. And, I mean, that was one of my first favorite movies, ever. And I'm a dialogue whore, so.
CE: So, yeah!
GM: For me, it's just like, every line. And it's constantly throwing you for a loop. It's about an event that, it's like someone died, but he's still there, you know?
CE: Yeah, yeah.
GM: And that event is part of it, but also isn't part of it-- there's so much that happens that has nothing do to with it. To be compared to The Big Chill, for me, it's the ultimate compliment. It's also proof that you can make a movie where people just sit in a house and do boring things, and it's not boring.

CE: To me, it's proof that you can make a movie that is similar in film vocabulary and plot-- that's similar in cell structure-- to another film that's been made and make it original. I think it's unique enough, yet, it's wonderfully analogous. And so relevant is this issue of "nothing happens, but everything happens." [In Still Green] The conversations come from the histories these high school kids have had with each other, and with themselves. It's about them sharing their feelings with their friends, not sharing them, or finally sharing them. After the death occurs, the mood of the audience shifts. Knowing that these kids are going to go through death makes you linger with everything that happens, more. This little conversation is even more important, because it's part of the cornucopia of emotions that they're going through, too.

DW: It would switches gears a lot: from emotional to funny, and then there's that catharsis.
DL: Actually, what I noticed from sitting in the audiences at New England Film & Video Festival, we got so many more laughs than ever before. Every little moment that was kind of funny to me, everyone was laughing. And I love that Still Green actually takes you there. One of the biggest things I love about movies is just the journey of emotions, whatever movie it is. If a movie can make me feel whatever it makes me feel, that's a success to me. And that's what I've always loved about Still Green. I know it so well, so I connect with the emotions very easily, but it's cool to watch it in the theater where people are really paying attention. Seeing all the people connect with it, how it takes them from really happy to really sad, and to all these different places.
DW: The music helps that along, too. I listen to the soundtrack a lot. For me, music is tied to nostalgia, so when you hear the songs, it evokes that emotion. The movie connects me, through the music, to the emotion.
CE: One thing I liked about it, en masse, is that there's no song "of our generation" on there, so it's not going to feel too much of a certain time. It's not like you'd play it and say, "Oh, that was '95, because that was when Green Day blew up."
DW: Yeah, because it would be played on the radio all the time.
CE: Or: "Oh, this is when this big hit song comes in." It's more like, "This is the song from when Kerri's swimming alone in the ocean."
DL: It's about the song and it's about the moment. It's not about anything else. And that's what I like about the actors, too. Even though we have some actors who are doing other stuff, for the most part, they're not hugely recognizable. So, people will watch it and they won't connect with any other roles that they've had. Which I think is so big, because its just about connecting with them.

The Still Green trailer.

Voice-Overs & Lively Oceans

CE: So, let's talk about voice-over. Let's talk about any movies that you might have spoken about with the actors. Maybe you've seen voice-over in this movie and you loved it, or you've seen it in that film and made sure not to do it in that way.
GM: I'll tell you this: Ryan Kelley and I talked about voice-over. He said, in Mean Creek, originally in the script, there were tons of voice-overs. And they all got cut, except for the one at the end. He said it really helped his acting, to have so many written in the script, because you just know so much about the character. Then I asked some of the other actors [of Still Green], and a lot of them said the fact that there were so many voice-overs in the script didn't bother them, because it really helped them get into their roles. But for me, it was actually a writer. Her name is Jodi Piccoult, and she wrote Songs of the Humpbacked Whale.
CE: Yeah, yeah, her books are getting popular.
GM: She's a local [New England] writer, but now she's getting known. The first book she wrote was Songs of the Hump Backed Whale. The title of each chapter has the character's name that narrates it. The story keeps getting told, just switching around between the characters. It made me think, "I want to write a screenplay where there's no main character, and where it keeps switching between everybody's voice." I would say that the book and Jodi Piccoult were big inspirations.

CE: Other film elements stand out, like the camera work. Jeez, the more I see it, the more I think, wow, this is a beautiful film.
DW: Some of the scenes are just unbelievable.
GM: When they're playing in the water and the waves are just, like, whoosh.
CE: They're jumping in the water. That's gorgeous! Yeah, and it makes a difference. The first time I saw it, it didn't hit me. Okay, it's a sunny day and there are a handful of kids swimming at the beach. The more I saw it, I thought the sun is glinting in a way that it traditionally shouldn't. It's kind of falling on them. There's a lot of light and shadow play in the film, but it's not overdone.
GM: I will say one thing about the nature, though. The whole reason that it's shot like that is that ocean is life. It is full of fish and dolphins and birds, and it's just teeming with life. That this ocean would be the vehicle for death, and the irony of that, is something that we wanted to expose, which is why we edited it the way we did. It's not just like, "Oh, gratuitous ocean." That's why we're cutting to these shots of birds and the ocean, and-- the cycle of life. It's not the North Atlantic, which is cold and bitter and of course it's going to take life away. This is an ocean that's known for giving life, so that's one of the reasons that we picked it and really spent some time with it in the film.

Jon Artigo, Andrea Ajemian, Georgia Menides, & Doug
Lloyd at the Fort Lauderdale International Film Festival.

Artigo/Ajemian Films, Uncovered Productions, Collaborative Filmmaking, & Some Popcorn

CE: Let's see, you guys have 10 more minutes, 20 more minutes?
GM: We have to be at our first thing at 7:40, but we have to drive.
DL: Well, I have to pick up my suit pants at 6. It's right down the street. It's 5:15 now.
CE: Let's go to 5:25 or less than that. Okay.

CE: Cool, cool. Let's just put things in the context that you guys have made other films. You guys are coming from having done this for a while. The three of you have gone to school for film. Still Green is only the recent manifestation. I want to talk about the projects, ideas, and experiences you've had being creative people, creative business people. So, Doug Lloyd, you went to Clark with me, from the late nineties through the first part of the 21^st century.
DL: Yeah.
CE: And Georgia, you went to NYU, Tisch, for...
GM: For Screenwriting. I graduated in 97.
CE: In 97, so when I was going through some of the Still Green Stuff, you graduated from NYU.
GM: Ha ha. Yeah.
CE: Ha. It's cool, it's cool. I have known you, Doug, since '99, and I've known you, Georgia, from '02, '03, I want to say.
GM: Yeah.
CE: Dave. You graduated BU in '06?
DW: Yeah, I got my master's in '06. I went undergrad a long time before. I graduated undergrad in '96.
CE: You got your master's in screenwriting?
DW: Screenwriting, yup.
CE: And you got involved with this group through Artigo/Ajemian?
DW: Yeah, kind of randomly. They were working on what is still the next project, We Got the Beat. I just found an ad of theirs on Craigslist.
GM: Brandon Meyer found us on Craigslist!
DW: You know, I just graduated. I was thinking about going to LA, but I figured I would take a shot locally, first. Then I hooked up with these guys, kind of got sucked in, and now I'm still here. Ha.
DL & GM: Ha.
CE: So, was that your first time in Worcester?
DW: No, I had been in Worcester before. I had gone to the Centrum, at some point, for a basketball game.

CE: Hmm. So, Uncovered Productions has joint offices with Artigo/Ajemian in Worcester.
DL: Yeah, the offices are shared between the two companies, because we're very much working together on the same projects. Uncovered Productions did Still Green, in association with Artigo/Ajemian Films. And then We Got The Beat is Artigo/Ajemian Films, but Georgia and I are still working on it. We're the production designers.
CE: How about a brief summary about We Got the Beat?
DL: We Got the Beat is an eighties-era teen comedy. It's about this high school football star who doesn't want to play football any more. He quits the team to start the first-ever boy band. The script is really funny. Right now, it's in development. Jon and Andrea are working on raising the money for that.

CE: Let's talk about the idea that, with each movie you make, there's a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. At the same time, it's about getting to and going beyond the rainbow. Let's discuss Still Green, compared to experiences you've had making other films. Or, if it's building up any dreams you've had.
GM: The whole thing you were talking about, each film being a climb. Still Green is going to do whatever it does, it's made for whatever budget, and this and that. Then, We Got the Beat is the next step: in terms of budget, actors, just level of film. Then We Got the Beat will be the next step to Dave's script, or whatever is next. It is a constant climb, and one of the things you want to do by the end of each film is to enable yourself to make the next one. We want Still Green to do well, because it's our baby and all these incredible people worked on it, etc. But, we want to position ourselves to make We Got the Beat, and to make the next one even better than Still Green.
CE: Each is still a great film that you guys put your heart and soul into and push like nothing else.
DL & GM: Yeah. Exactly.
CE: I've seen this idea of climbing chart itself out since Rutland, USA; though, not all of it. I just found out about the road trip documentary that Andrea made.
GM: Oh, Green House Girls. You should see that. It's wonderful.
CE: Each film is a project from the heart. They're very professional. Each attempts to push itself out there, as both the product of a community, and a marker of your creative growth. While Freedom Park was a great film, with the skills and resources you could have later on, it would be completely different.
DL: Exactly. I like to have goals set way higher than I should ever be able to achieve, and then get to those goals, and then set higher ones. That's really what's been happening with the movies. This is definitely a good industry to do that in: as you achieve more things, you get more people who realize what you can do. They start working with you and you can keep growing together, as a team. So, it's definitely going to keep going and going, and we're going to keep getting bigger and bigger projects. We'll just keep growing our teams of people, as word gets out about what we can do.

GM: And I totally remember saying, "Doug, if you and I are just sitting in a room, like eating popcorn, watching Still Green, and it's a movie, we have succeeded!" And I really meant it. And now, we've been in that moment 300 times. It's just funny. Now, it's like, okay, once our investors make their money back, we'll have succeeded. A year ago, to be even where we are now, would have been like, "We're done."

CE: Definitely. Let's talk about the community environment of Uncovered and Artigo/Ajemian. Even though you guys are in LA now, too, it's still a community. Tell me about the community of filmmakers working together.
DW: It's amazing. That's probably why I've stuck around so long. It's just such a collaborative thing. Everybody treats each other like equals. Everybody listens to each other's ideas. There's not just one guy saying, "Let's do this, or let's do that." Everyone's opinion is valued. I think that's how you make good films, by combining everybody's collaborative passion.
CE: So, it must be nice to see that manifest. What is it like to feel it and be there, on a daily basis? It's something you believe in enough to work for many years with Jon and Andrea.
DL: On a day-to-day basis, it just happens on its own. Every once in a while, you reflect back and are like, "Oh my god, this really is happening." We get to look back and say, "We made Freedom Park." With Rutland, USA, Georgia and I were involved at the end, with promoting it. Just to look back and say, "Remember when we all made Freedom Park together and our goals and our dreams then?" Actually, we've been remembering how we've grown from Freedom Park, thinking back to moments when we were going off to film festivals, getting the audience's responses. I love that we could be at this moment again, with Still Green.
CE: It's almost like going through the same technical aspects: writing, producing, directing, filming, acting, post-production, and releasing a film. But it's an evolution, each time. Of every month, of every week: of the evolution of your filmmaking.
GM: I think what makes it interesting, too, is that we are not getting paid. Within the framework of these six years, if you want to start from the beginning of Freedom Park, we all have had jobs that, obviously are our day jobs, that some of us are passionate about. Jon is teaching. Maybe, I have a job that I care about. Moves, break-ups: Doug and I started this as a boyfriend and girlfriend, living together. Now, we're just business partners, dating other people.

Within the encapsulation of that, so much else has gone on, as well. I think that makes it interesting, as opposed to if we were just doing this full-time and getting paid, and we were in that film bubble. That would be something else. But I think all those dynamics add to it. That there's all these-- you know, Jon can't come out to the festival, because he has a class. The whole thing about everybody's place of where they put their art, and who has the time to do what; and whose voice takes over, often just because of other things people have going on in their lives. That whole mix, I think, is something that's really cool.

CE: Like, Jon's trust that you're showing what another director would call his film.
GM: Yeah. He knows that we're not going to screw it up. Exactly. He said, "I know that, at the end of the day, you're going to fill the house, even if you have to bop people on the head and throw them in the theater!"
DW: It's weird. This occurred to me today when we were in front of the film class. People kept asking about the director. If you were at the office every day, you would see four filmmakers, really. People always think it's the director's film, or the writer's film, but it's the four of your's film. I feel that everybody is equally responsible, it's just different jobs.
GM: It's everybody's film. Switching the order came from Andrea. She randomly had a brainstorm in the middle of the night, and we thought great!
CE: How long did it take for you guys to like it?
DL: When we saw the new cut, we realized we had do it this way. It definitely works better. We were agreed that we wanted to make the changes. I can't wait until when we get distribution, if it gets theatrical. I will be so happy. What we're screening now, that's not even the full way it can look. I've seen how it can look in the theater. Not many eyes have seen the true quality of how Still Green can look. Oh my god! If we can get theatrical distribution, it's going to blow people away.

Unpredictable, Entertaining, Oh Wow

GM: We have negative 3 minutes to talk, now.

CE: Apropos the film, it's as though you're hearing about a group of friends your best friends have, if they're not your friends, already. Like when you go to college and hear about your new friend's high school friends. This is that group. You're seeing that, you're seeing these realistic people.

I'm going to ask one last question, quickly. To keep this personal nature in mind: let's talk about one scene you subjectively really like when you see the movie. One thing you're glad you're seeing. Something with that oh, wow, it speaks to me quality.

GM: Personally, the scene where Alan is teasing Kerri, after she's hooked up with Brandon [Paul Costa], and they're talking about how big his dick was. That thing where you want that person, but you're doing that whole game. And you're getting all into it like that. I feel like that is just like so many people I know, certainly me personally. I'm so glad that scene is in there.
CE: That's funny, but also emotional. Like we were saying earlier, it definitely shows Sara's and Ryan's range as actors.

DL: For me, it's the moment after the death, when they're all dealing with the fact that their friend just died. Even though they're dealing with the issues that they already had, they're now dealing with it in the framework of: "Holy shit! All this trivial stuff that we thought was such a big deal, is now nothing. Our friend is dead." And that's just a final thing. I just love the fact that no matter what's happening in their life, no matter what things they think are really important, they're really not. When it comes down to it, their friend just died. Nothing can change that. I just love the finality of that, and how trivial it makes the rest of their lives-- for that moment, at least-- just to put things in perspective.

DW: I was trying to think of a couple things. I guess one of the things that really hit me was when Daneck and Sean are in the canoe.
GM: Ah.
DW: They're clearly pretty close. Even though it's kind of sappy, Daneck is coming to grips with the fact that he's going to have all these new experiences with new friends, but he's leaving his best friends behind. He's not liking it. It seems to him he's not going to have fun. He's having trouble realizing, you know, you are going to make new friends, but you don't want to leave old friends you've had for a long time.
CE: The cool thing about that scene is you think these are the guys that aren't going to connect, that they're friends by default, because they were in the same class with these other people that they're closer to. But then you think, no wait, they're all connected.

The scene, it's realistic because there's the beats of silence. It's almost like they're approaching the emotions, but they're approaching them in a way that speaks to where they're at. It's not a strong: "I'm going to miss you. I'm going to open up." It's more like Daneck is saying, "I'm going to miss you, I'm going to open up. It's huge, but I don't know how to say it. And I know you're going to finish my sentence, because you're the emotional guy."

And the cool thing is that it's not between two obvious heavies in the movie. It's with between a heavy, and this other guy you come to like.

GM: Yeah.
CE: Which makes it different different than all these other films I love. It's usually very obvious, because it's often between these two best friends who are polar opposites.
GM: Like The Falcon and the Snowman.
CE: Yeah. I love it--it's one of my favorite films-- but that part of it is so obvious, you know?
GM: Yeah.
CE: This is more, you know, it's uh, unpredictable, without being out of place. That's what I like about it.
GM: COOL!
CE: And I think that's essentially the film. It definitely speaks to certain genres, certain things you've seen, certain moods and relationships you've had. But it's not trying to be a dead-on, realistic portrait, and it's not trying to be a cutesy teen movie that's kind of serious. It uses the metaphors of friendship, house, and change in lively ways. Everything is living and transforming. I think the house is breathing and things are happening in it. Yet, it's also an entertaining film.

It's just great to have seen it evolve and hope to see it evolve, some more. So, go to the myspace page, and share it with your friends. And see it at the festivals!

DL: Myspace.com/stillgreenmovie and just stillgreenmovie.com. Definitely check that out. We'll keep updating those.
CE: And um, look forward to the next few films, which are probably going to be nothing like Still Green.
GM: That is for damn sure!

DL: Yeaaah…
DW: Yeah. We'll be at dozens of film festivals.
CE: And Jon Artigo and Andrea Ajemian [of Artigo/Ajemian Films], and Doug Lloyd and Georgia Menides, [of Uncovered Productions] and Dave Weston are names to remember.
GM: Whooo!
CE: Great. take care.

The cast of Still Green: everything would be different after that summer.

Left Unsaid 1: A train. A book. A walk-away.

2008-02-22T01:15:00.050-05:00

This post starts the beginning of a new, "de temps en temps" section on conversations, etc. We'll call it "Left Unsaid." I was once told by a dear professor that, more often than not, we don't say what we mean. He elaborated on how this shapes the way we converse with and relate to each another. It seems that a significant piece of this habitual mode involves leaving things unsaid. While things get left unsaid often, the reasons behind doing so, the possibilities it engages or silences, and the effects it has on relationship x and all of our other ones, range.

With each post in this series, I hope to share look closer-- listen closer, even-- to these moments. The asides in our heads. The grappling with what we said and what we wish we said. The admittance to fascinations, transgressions, transformations. The finally-reached epiphanies. The not-so-epiphanies that help wipe the snow or bird poop off our windshields (or the windshields of others). The thank yous that are too weighty, necessary, or late. Flirtations with a person, place, or idea. The grounding of a conviction with words. This is a humble list that offers some of the countless permutations of this more-than-minute occurrence.

I invite you to send in a "Left Unsaid" moment or two. I do not want to foster negative consequences, though. I am also still hesitant to elicit too much about those whose voices are not conspicuously present on the site. There are wonderful sites for that sort of thing (i.e., Overheard in New York). There is much messiness that may come from that kind of display, though. That said, I open up "Left Unsaid" to you. Send in your stories rather than posting them in comments. As always, reply with comments to posts that speak to you. I ask for your patience with both the time and manner in which this section evolves.

The first offering: A train. A book. A walk-away.

The note above reads:

Hi. You are reading one of my favorite-- and one of the most influential books of my life.

Oh, and I'd love to have coffee w/ you, sometime. like in the next five minutes.

-Shahin {phone number omitted from picture.]

Who was this written to, and why?

While on the subway some days back, I noticed a woman reading Autobiography of a Face by Lucy Grealy, easily one of the most important finds during my coming-of-age. The note was written as a means to share that fact with the reader, while positing the potential for some back and forth. Not in the proverbial date sense, per se. Moreso, I was awestruck by someone reading a book that has a certain place in my timeline. Since age fourteen (twelve years ago), it has lived on a shelf reserved for the most compelling, timely, and re-read books I own. To boot, it's not one many people casually discuss (like a Gabriel Garcia Marquez epic, or a Johnathan Safron Foer memoir) . If anything, I have this idea that me and many of my friend's parents have kept it in print. Seeing a stranger read it made me curious about her relationship with the book. It also sparked an interest in exchanging our thoughts on stories, personal and published.

On that train ride, I was reading Margaret Atwood's The Circle Game, a taut book of poetry. As you can see, I have something of a much-travelled and re-imaged copy. Midway to my destination, I wrote the note, figuring I should chronicle the moment, if not offer her my humble admission. There I was, a dishevelled book before a bearded fellow. And she, in some professional office uniform, replete with meticulously fallen curls. And that book. Appearances aside, there could have been an evening of astute conversation,if not a little close reading of our favorite books and own own stories. Appearances being as they are, I opted out from sharing the full intent of the blue-inked text.

The actual conversation:

* TL will stand in for the stranger's name (TL= train lady).

On the escalators leaving the station, she was right behind me, so I figured I would tell her ...
CE: That's one of my favorite books.

TL: Oh yeah, I just started it.

CE: It changed... it's probably one of the most influential books I've read.

TL: Well, I just started it. I have a bit to go.

CE: How did you pick it up?

[Now we are midway through leaving the station. Having just ridden the first escalator, we have admission/exit gates to traverse and a longer escalator to climb.]

TL: Well, I read Ann Patchett's book about her friendship [with Grealy].

[I think Ann Patchett, curiously perfect curly hair. By appearances and the look of the banter, I'm not convinced rapport could blossom. I become overtly aware and somewhat uncomfortable by my pedestrian relationship with The New Yorker culture in which I assume she's immersed. I, a visitor of that milieu, she a denizen.]

CE: Oh, so you know she's passed, then.

[And then it gets awkward. My habit of pushing the story further along than is needed makes this last line drag. Besides, bringing up death in polite conversation, after a Monday's workday, isn't the most graceful thing to do. Then the fates allow us to go about our own business. Which is to say that we approach the admission/exit gates, and I offer a polite closure, as we conveniently skedaddle apart.]

CE: Well, enjoy your night!

Semi-Closure:
There could have been been more back and forth--five seconds or five hours more-- who knows. Either way, we're linked by this web of readership. I wonder if what she gets from the book is anything close to what I did at 14, 17, 23, or even the next time I revisit those pages. I am curious about the impact the book may have on her. In a time of countless memoirs, Autobiography of a Face may come off as another endearing account by a cancer survivor. However, it can poignantly alter the way you to your self and those around you-- even a stranger. Approach it face to face, and you'll see what I mean!

Autobiography of a Face: book cover and my cover. I used to
have the book cover on my wall, circa 1996.

Margaret Atwood's The Circle Game: front and back.

Update: Computer Problems & Delays (Again)

2007-12-17T22:10:00.000-05:00

To all our regular readers and other roamers,

Hello. How are you? I wanted to write you all in order to provide a brief update. My laptop has seen and worked through better days. It became sick early last week, essentially out of nowhere. I was able to quasi-diagnose the problem, and had someone look at it. They supposedly fixed it, but the computer was returned more or less as is (albeit, with a new fan), and with a more professional diagnosis of other problems. I was a little burned by the experience, but one peseveres, adapts, and moves on. I am ardently seeking a workable laptop to be the new conversations, etc. catalyst/computer, in its stead.

Unfortunately, what this has meant is that I am behind in posting. I have had three great interviews since the last post, have arranged several others, and if my plans work out, I will have great adventures this holiday, replete with captivating and quirky conversations for you to enjoy soon.

Also, I hope that you stay with us through 2008, as we will grow exponentially. There will be more posts, characters, conversations, and even more "etc." for you to enjoy. Posts will occur more often, so that you will have something new to read, listen to, view, enjoy regularly. Projects I am brainstorming will manifest, and there will be more to explore on this site. By this time next year, your friends will be telling you about conversations, etc., you will have provided us with countless suggestions for interview subjects, and we will all enjoy talks both long and short, all the more.

Thank you for your patience. Thank you for continuing the conversation, and hope to keep it flowing, on here and off, with each and every one of you. Contact me, as you like.

Shahin I. Beigi,
conversations, etc.
Founder and Fellow
Conversationalist

Po'Girl: Roaming Through Songs & Towns

2007-11-01T15:11:00.000-05:00

Awna Teixeira, Allison Russell, and Diona Davies:

3 of 4 Po'Girls.

The road is still filled with them: wandering musicians who tear through and linger in venues and towns sprinkled across the map. They may have itineraries that are posted in newspapers, or on fliers and web sites. For those of us not on the road, the lists read like an alphabet soup of locales. The constellations musicians come up with for traversing states, countries, even continents, make some of us curious and long to travel, if not ramble along with them. When their maps include our towns (or nearby destinations), we have the chance to (if the stars are right) bask in their live tunes and tones. To make up for not dropping everything and following them to the next few shows, we concede and wait until the next time they come by, making it our beeswax to see them again (and again).

Po'Girl sauntered into Cambridge a couple weeks ago, and I did in fact make sure I saw them live (again). This is because, last February, on one of the iciest days in a sincerely cold week, they wandered into town and played Club Passim, warming up the room with a singular, stirring, hip-swaying music. I went to that show because I had yet had the chance to see The Be Good Tanyas, and at the time, their singer-guitarist Trish Klein, was a Po'Girl, too. More than that, the first Po'Girl album (which I knew from my record store clerk-and-curator days) suggests that the songs may play more poignantly live. Seeing them the first time, I was taken by each phrase, instrument change, and twist and tone of the show. The second time proved to be a refreshing reminder: the popular blues-folk-roots-jazz hybrid (add/alter as many appropriate hyphens) can blossom in earnest and evolve (even within a band), although it is being commodified, hip-ified, and de-sinceritized these days.

Outside the venue and after the show, we spoke about musicians we can't stop listening to, instruments we can't live without, and a few other things that get them through, on the road.

* Po'Girl's tour schedule can be found at their official site, or on their myspace page. Some dates include: Nov. 2, Coconino Center for the Arts in Flagstaff, AZ; Nov. 8, Gig Artspace in Santa Fe, NM; Nov. 10, Lobo Theater in Albequerque, NM; Nov. 14, Cerritos Centre for the Performing Arts in Cerritos, CA; Nov. 17, The Mobius in Ashland, OR; Nov. 21-22, The Dream Cafe in Penticton, BC; Nov. 22, The Royal in Nelson, BC.

Roll Call/ Playtime

CE: One thing I’m going to ask of you all is to re-iterate your first name before you talk, because I am not used to your intonations.
Allison: Right, to know who it is [speaking].
CE: Right, right. Okay, so hello’s around the room. This is outside of Club Passim, October 16, 2007. Tuesday night. Talking with Po’Girl. My second time seeing them. Great show. Over a dozen songs. Then, two encores, blah, blah, blah. Okay.
[All laugh.]
CE: And your names?
Allison: Hello, I’m Allison Russell, from Po’Girl. It’s the second day of the tour. We’re getting ready to do a night drive, to get us as close to Philadelphia as we can tonight, before we all get too tired.
Awna: Hi, I’m Awna Teixeira.
Diona: And I’m Diona Davies.
Benny: And I’m Benny Sidelinger, the happy boy. [All laugh.]
CE: And Benny’s the newest official edition to the band. Benny, you started when?
Benny: Ah, in August.
CE: In August of 2007, shortly before the JT & the Clouds tour.
Allison: That’s right. That was a different band, though, that went on tour with JT & the Clouds. That was Sofia, Awna's and my side project.
CE: Right, right.
Allison: Yeah.

CE: Let’s start with the way you guys play on stage. I have some questions about that, then I have questions about how it compares to the way you play off stage.

So, I noticed that you guys do a lot of playing when you’re performing on stage. Everybody seems like they’re “playing” and enjoying it. There is a melding of sounds going on, and a melding of voice: “this is when this person jumps in, this is when that person jumps in.” It seems to be an ordered sense of play, though. I was wondering how you guys came to that way of working together. You know, how that evolved.

Allison: Yeah, I think it has evolved. It just comes from playing together a lot. And we’re all primarily ear-taught musicians. I play just off what I’m hearing, and listening to what other people are doing, getting inspired by that, and reacting, so. There definitely is a lot of spontaneous, improvisational stuff that goes on; of course, it’s within the structure of a song that we’ve, you know, hopefully run over at least once or twice before we [laughs] unleash it on an audience.
Diona: Sometimes. These days, sometimes not.
Allison: It comes just from playing for a few years, all together. Particularly, Awna and Diona go back about seven or eight years, maybe more than that. And we’ve all known Benny for the last, almost five years. Even though Benny is new to this project, we’ve played with him and his other project, The Shiftless Rounders, many times. So, I think what you are hearing is a level of comfort and familiarity that we have with each other.

CE: Definitely, definitely. And when you write the music in the studio, does it have that kind of melding feel, too?
Diona: Yeah. Usually we start--seems to me--we introduce a song on the road, learn it, and kind of hash it out. Then we have this little package of songs that we go in the studio with, and arrange them more in there.
Awna: A lot of stuff happens in the studio, too. I think that’s because everyone is... like, we’re there: we’re in the studio, there is not a whole lot of outside influence. Most studios don’t have windows, and you kind of don’t know the time of day. We get to focus even more on the songs than we ever have, really. You’ll get in the studio and you’ll record, and then, afterwards, you’re like: “Damn, this harmony would have sounded good!” After the recording happens, then all these things change or flourish with the song.
Allison: Hmm mhmmm.
Awna: You’re just focusing so hard on it for a really long time. In my opinion, the best thing any musician can do for themselves is to record. It betters you.
Allison: You learn a lot.
Awna: Yeah.

I Want to Play Double Fiddles!

CE: And yeah, there is a knowing between you guys. Even though it comes out playfully, it is not a loose playfulness, in the sense, “What’s going to happen next?” It seems like the snapping and the “this instrument comes in at this time” quality occur naturally, with an understanding of the way it all works together, the way you guys work together, and this whole thing.

Speaking of instruments, y’all each play a bunch of different ones. I had a few questions about that:

A) Do you guys teach each other some of the instruments?

B) Are there instruments that you are working to include?

C) It seems like you enjoy hearing each other play the various instruments. When you watch each other perform, it looks like you’re thinking “Hey, wow! Wow!” Are there any songs in which you look forward to hearing each other play the other instruments? For example, when Allison plays the guitar, or Diona plays the glockenspiel.

All: Yeah, yeah.
Diona: I hadn’t played the glockenspiel for a while. Whoo! That was exciting!
Allison: I think we definitely do encourage each other. For example, I keep hinting to Benny that I was up for him to give me some guitar lessons. Broadly hinting, you know. And I’ve been getting into playing keys more, which has been a fun thing. I haven’t done that on stage yet. I’ve done it on recording. But yeah, we do encourage each other to try new things. Diona started playing accordion a little bit, because Awna has one. And then with certain songs, there’s definitely a push and pull, and people going out of their comfort zones, and you come up with a different sound. Sometimes, it’s great to have someone who’s less proficient trying the instrument, and they come up with something entirely different, and maybe that fits really well into the song. Or, even though I will never be the virtuoso guitar master that Benny is, sometimes I can hack something out, and then he’s free to play dobro, and that’s beautiful, or banjo, and he’s a wonderful banjo player. You know, this kind of thing.
Awna: And there’s this the whole world of Benny. He has a huge repertoire of old time banjo songs, and different kinds of stuff that we need to explore. He plays fiddle, too. That’s another element that we, I mean, I would like to hear...
Diona, Allison, Awna: Yeah.
Benny: I want to play double fiddles!

Benny Sidelinger: Guitar Luthier, Guitar Slinger.
[Also, the fourth Po'Girl.]

Diona: Yeah, yeah.
Benny: I almost brought my fiddle onto this tour, but then I chickened out.
Allison: Aw.
Benny: I didn’t, because the back of the car is so crowded.
Allison: We need a tickle truck that travels behind us, that has a bigger inside than outside, that will magically transport us, without having to take airplanes and dealing with that.
CE: Or, people that are willing to let your borrow instruments in various towns. Something like: “We need your violin tonight.”
Benny: That gets tricky, when you start using other people’s instruments. It can be hard, especially with wind instruments. Allie had to borrow a clarinet last night. You know, it’s just not, --especially a clarinet--it’s the type of instrument that, you just—it’s in your mouth. It’s such an intimate thing to be acquainted with. I think it’s tricky, to play other instruments.

It took me a while to get used to playing the banjo these girls had, because… my banjo is quite a bit different.

Allison: Better. Your banjo’s better. [Laughs].

Benny: Their banjo has a decent pick-up in it, and I’ve been sticking with that, because they’re used to that. It would be tricky to just grab someone else’s banjo. Banjo is another one that’s sensitive.
CE: And the violin, too.
Allison: Are you a violin player?
CE: Yeah. I’ve been playing for the last 15 years. But the last couple years, I haven’t had a working one. People say, “Oh you should get this kind of violin, or that kind of violin.” I don’t have enough extra money to get a new one, yet I don’t need more than a piece that sounds like I need it to sound. Something that feels right, but something that I can mess with, because I’ll do off things, like use soft branches, instead of a bow. I pluck a lot. When I was a kid, I didn’t want to keep my parents awake, so I started plucking a lot. I realized I plucked 80 percent of the time, and bowed 20 percent of the time. I’m almost uncomfortable with bowing. You could do a lot of other stuff without the bow.
Awna: Right.
CE: But yeah, it’s so singular.
Benny: So, the fiddle. Actually, I picked up a fiddle yesterday, that-- once in a while you pick up a fiddle that just feels right. You’ve never played it before, but everything there just fits you. I had that experience with my friend’s fiddle. I wish I could have acquired that, somehow.
Awna: You weren’t speaking so broadly.
Benny: I know. “I really, really, really, really like this fiddle! How many fiddles do you have?” Of course, the guy’s got five fiddles. He could have four fiddles, you know?

Awna: It’s almost like they choose you, sometimes. That’s the way it was with my accordion. I found it at Value Village one time, for forty bucks and I lost my mind. I started screaming in the Value Village because I was like, it just felt, everything felt right and I felt like I could play it instantly, even though I had never played accordion before. But I only had twenty bucks, and it was 40 dollars. This lady was like, “Oh my god, you really have to have that thing,” and gave me 20 dollars. That’s how I got the thing.

And it was just like, I put it on, and it suctioned itself to my body.

Allison: They haven’t separated ever since. [Smiles all around.]
CE: What’s Value Village, by the way?
Allison: Oh, it’s a chain of thrift stores across Canada. It didn’t realize that you guys don’t have it. It’s like a Sally Anne’s, basically.
Benny: Or Goodwill.
Allison: Exactly the same thing.
CE: Do you remember which city the Value Village was in?
Awna: Yeah, in Victoria, BC.

Po'Girl Covers: Maps and Songs

CE: Diona was explaining what parts of the map you folks are from… If you would, just restate it for the interview.
Benny: I’m from Maine, originally, and I live in Olympia, Washington now.
Allison: I’m from Montreal, Quebec, born and raised. I did about a seven year stint on the west coast of Vancouver, where I met all these guys initially. But now, I haven’t lived anywhere since December, because I’m just on the road all the time. Although, I do have a storage locker in Vancouver. I also have a bedroom at my friend’s house in Montreal. So, I don’t know what that means. I, I’m in between.
Awna: And I’m from Toronto, originally. I have stuff in the same locker with Allie, in Vancouver, and then I have stuff in boxes in Toronto. So…
Diona: I’m from BC and I live on an island in the middle of the water called Galiano.

CE: Nice. You were talking about mixing instruments around. I’m excited about your covers. When a band you’re into covers a song, it's great when they put the song in their sound, or they push their sound with it. And I hear that from you guys, from the couple times I’ve seen you perform “The Partisan,” which I knew, coming from Leonard Cohen.
Allie: Yeah, we do too. We learned it from him, originally. Not directly from him—I wish—but yeah, from his recording.
CE: And the Bessie Smith song from tonight, the way you guys made it your own.
Allie: Yeah.

CE: I was wondering:

How does a cover come into the repertoire? How does it go from being introduced as a possibility, to getting played on stage? Are there any covers that you want to do later on?

Allison: We’re always thinking about different songs we want to do, particularly from other songwriter friends whom we adore, like Carolyn Mark, Chris Brown, Kate Fenner, and Jeremy Lindsay (who was with Po’Girl last time we were here). There are a lot of people whose songs we love to play. And then, certainly, classic, older songs and jazz tunes that really resonate. Certain songs resonate with you. And then you bring it to the group, and if it resonates with everybody, then it gets played. Ultimately, what decides it, often, is audience reaction. If we play a song a few times, and people just aren’t that into it, we kind of get demoralized with it, with that song, and you give up on it.
Benny: You can’t get too attached, I think, to even your own songs. In the end, you gotta just go with what works.
Diona: Sometimes, it doesn’t. We played a song once, for a whole room full of people, and no one even clapped.
CE: Was it in Boston, because they can be that way?
Diona: No, it wasn’t. It was [somewhere else].

CE: Speaking of audience responses: when I hear “Home to You” and a couple songs from the first album, I connect with them quite a bit. I was wondering, would you share some stories about people coming up to you and saying, “I connect with this song, because…”? You know, that kind of thing. [Lyrics to Po'Girl songs available under the music section here.]
Awna: Lots of different things. We’ve had people follow us around. Like, they just happen at one show on a tour, and find out about the rest of the shows on the tour, and just decide on a whim, after that one show, to come to six or seven shows. That’s wild. That is like, you’ve just decided, last minute, to take time out of your week and drive around the country to come see us, again and again and again. Then, some will request certain songs, or do research on the history of the different things we’re talking about. There are lots of incredible things that happen. I think, as the music’s coming out of you, sometimes you forget that it’s actually affecting people to do stuff like that. It’s an amazing thing to do, to affect people like that.
Allison: A few times, we’ve had come up to us about certain songs, particularly when they’re dealing with the death of someone close to them.
CE: Which songs inspire this?
Allison: Well there was one woman, on the last UK tour. She loved “To the Angry Evangelist,” because it reminded her of this person she had lost recently. And, “’Til It’s Gone” is another one.” And “Drive All Night,” too.
Benny: “Prairie Girl Gone.” A lot of people write to us about that song.
Allison: That’s right. It’s a song that I wrote about my grandma, who now is dead from Alzheimer’s, but at the time, she was living with Alzheimer’s. You know, it was really awful to watch someone ---a very cerebral woman-- have her mind taken from her. I sing that song and, of course, for me it’s deeply personal; but, I’ve had a lot of people come up to me about the song, particularly people who’ve been touched by it, and had people in their lives that they loved lost to Alzheimer’s. Hmmm.

Pizza! Dobro! Jamborees!

CE: Hmmm. I don’t want to hold you up too much, maybe a couple more?
All: Sure, sure.

CE: By the way, there’s a place, right by where Peet’s Coffee is, if you guys are starving and need amazing Sicilian pizza. It’s two slices for four dollars. It’s called Pinocchio's. It’s world famous, but it’s just right there.
Awna: Sicilian pizza is a whole other story than just regular pizza.
CE: Yeah, and they make tomato and basil.
Awna: Sicilians make the best pizza. Seriously.
Allison: We love Sicily. Awna and I went there with our Sofia project and had a great time.
Awna: We basically lived off wine and pizza.
Allison: For ten days, all we could afford!

CE: Tell me about some bands with whom you like performing. Obviously, with JT and the Clouds. Jeremy and I have actually been emailing back and forth, and we’ll be having a conversation soon enough. That last album, The City’s Hot, Yeah the City’s Hot, when I first got it, it’s all I listened to. For four months. I still can’t get over it.
Allison: I know, I obsessively listened to that album.
Awna: Yeah, do you have a copy?
Allison: No, I don’t have a copy.
Awna: They kept having to take it back to sell it. They were selling out of it. They would say, “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta sell it!”
Allison: Ah, and now I don’t have one! Ah, how could I have left Chicago without getting one from Drew. That album kills me. It just… the new one is going to be just as good, if not better.
CE: So, as Sofia, you guys were recording with JT & the Clouds?
Allison: We did, we did. We recorded four tracks with the Clouds while we were in Chicago, and that was so much fun. We want to do more. We’re going to do a tour together in January, on the west coast. It’s always a pleasure to get to play with them, to get to play with The Shiftless Rounders, Carolyn Mark, and last night, Luther Wright and the Wrongs.

CE: You must play a lot of folk festivals, with a range of folk acts?
Allison: Have you been to any Canadian Folk Fests?
CE: No, no.
Allison: You would love it. The concerts always have great lineups, but my favorite part are the workshops, which aren’t workshops in the way maybe people think about them in festivals here, where someone teaches you guitar. They just throw people together from various bands, and give you some ridiculous topic, and then you just play music together and see what happens. Sometimes people are afraid to extemporize a little bit, so they turn it into a songwriters in the round, which can be beautiful, too. But, a lot of the times, it turns into a jamboree, by the end of it!
Benny: Hillside Gospel Jam! Best workshop ever! It was at this festival called Hillside.
CE: In what town?
Benny: In Guelph, Ontario.
CE: Oh, yeah. Guelph. Great music scene there. I have some friends playing music out there.
Allison: You should go. It’s in the third week in July, or something.
Benny: Yeah, it’s so fun. The Shiftless Rounders, Po’Girl, and The Be Good Tanyas. All of us knew each other’s songs-- we had already collaborated. And Josh Ritter, he was the host of it. He kind of led it. And then Paul Reddick, he’s a very famous blues harmonica player.
Allison: He was amazing.
Benny: He was into the dobro: he would take a harmonica solo, then yell, “Dobro!” every other time around. He just kept making me take solos. We have a great recording of that. The nicest letter we’ve ever gotten was from the guy who recorded it. He was just so into it. He gave us some of The Shiftless Rounders tracks, and then some of the tracks from Paul Reddick. We have it on our web site now, with the letter. The only mp3’s we have up are those tracks that everyone was playing on, all the girls singing and everything, I put the letter on there too, because it’s such a cool letter. I think that was one of my favorite musical experiences of my life.
Diona: That was a really, really great time.

CE Speaking of the road, any rituals you guys have?
Allison: We have a group hug before every show. And I use a lot of essential oils. And I do a lot of calisthenics in hotel rooms, while watching mindless television.
Awna: We always try to make sure that we stop to enjoy stuff around us, rather than just driving to a show and playing, driving to a show and playing. Like…
Diona: Hot springs.
Awna: Hot springs. In the summer, swimming holes. We make sure that we are enjoying, as we go.
Allison: And I like running. I go running in every new town we go to.
Benny: Also, we like meeting locals. All of us are big on meeting people in the community, and taking time after the show, when we can, to hang out with some of the local people, and absorb the culture of the places we’re in.

Allison: And pay attention…
Awna: …to what’s going on. Because, it can get, it feels almost strange sometimes, when you’re moving so quickly, in a plane, in a car, you’re doing a little show, and you have your little group of friends you do it with. And you move around. You can get really lost in that. Sometimes, if we get in a cycle—I know we’ve done stints where we’re on our seventh show in a row, or eleventh show in a row, and you’re just trying to make it to the next place. And you’re there, and then you forget, and then all of a sudden you start feeling lonely. "Oh, right. What are we doing?" We’re good at keeping in check.
Allison: We try to.
Awna: Yeah, yeah.

CE: Have you guys been to Philly before?
Awna: Yeah, yeah.
CE: Do you know about Gianna’s?
Awna: No, no.
CE: I’ll write down a few places. And are you going to Baltimore?
Allison: Driving through.
CE: There’s a great, tiny folk instrument shop to visit, if you’re driving through.

Home To You (the album), and at a
venue nearby (hopefully).

Carye Bye: Red Bat Biking, with Postcards in Tow

2007-09-08T21:39:00.000-05:00

Carye Bye as Red Bat, as Carye Bye. It will make more sense
after you read the interview.
Photo by Jonahthan Maus.

Collections. Creations. Caravans.

Each conjure up certain images, to any given reader. The images, in turn, speak to that person's interests, worldview, and how they may choose to spend their time. I will share what the first word suggests for me.

Collections. As anybody who has stepped into an apartment I have lived in would know, I'm a collector. I collect records, postcards, bottle caps, rocks, books. I hold onto other objects and ephemera, too, but this list may give you a sufficient idea--an image--about me. Each object carries its singular history, while relating to the others (in both the space of my room and narrative of my disposition), and ultimately solidifying their collective existence in a subjective and earnest reverence. Friends and acquaintances learn about my fascination for things through conversation, but there's nothing like stepping into a room replete with tangible histories. No doubt, it is not for everyone.

While researching possible fellow conversationalists, I explored the topic of eccentric collections and their collectors. I came across Carye Bye, Portland-based collector, artist, and bike tour guide. After reading about her bathtub postcard collection (and online museum), I sought these other interests and activities of hers. I came to see that she basks in the applications , possibilities, and communities that come along with each persona. Puns intended: she hops into the various realms, and soaks them up quite a bit. The sum is greater than the parts, it seems, but each element of: Carye's collection of cards, production of artwork, or bicycling activities proclaims its singular disposition and placement in the landscape of her daily life.

Since I can't quite hop on a plane to Portland, Oregon and step into that landscape, Carye and I opted for an email interview, which you see below. Enjoy the snapshots that she shares from the collection of her creative and well-crafted caravan of activities.

A brief aside about Carye's personality and persona in Portland:
I work at a crafts gallery in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Earlier today, a woman stepped in the gallery with a unique handbag, which was made from the covers of a hardcover children's book. We spoke a bit, and she explained that she was part of an arts co-op in Portland, Oregon. To entertain the possibility, I asked if she had heard of Carye Bye, the paper artist. She admitted that she did, and raved about her various and exciting projects. Excitedly, she asserted, "Carye's a spitfire!"

My Hobby is Now a Full-Time Job

CE: I first heard about your bathtub postcard collection, and then came to find out that you are busy with other interesting projects. Could you share a bit about them?
CB: I definitely put myself out there. I started the Bathtub Art Museum online in 2003 to show off the bathtub postcard collection. I'm a professional letterpress printer & designer, so I participate in Portland's many art fairs, and have my postcard art in shops around town. I also lead free bicycle tours of small museums and organize the annual Bunny on a Bike Ride. I definitely have three persona in Portland.
CE: How many years have you been busy with these things?
CB: I've been collection postcards, specifically bathtub postcards since 1992.
I started Red Bat Press in 2002.
I've been active in the Portland bike scene since 2004.
CE: Do your endeavors satisfy any childhood or adult passions?
CB: I've always been playful and curious, so all the things I do are about that. I also like meeting interesting people, and through my interests I've met collectors, artists, and self-propelled bicyclists that are all doing amazing things.
CE: In hindsight (and given your mood today), tell me about a project that you're most proud of or content with?
CB: I'd say probably the fact that my hobby of making wood-cut/letterpress postcard art has actually turned into a full-time job.
CE: What would you want to do that you have yet to really engage in or explore?
CB: I keep busy with all my interests-- too busy. I think in five years, I'll be involved in less long-term projects, and be more involved in day to day happenings, such as: waking up, randomly pointing to a map and making a day of exploring, deciding one day to only eat yellow food, laying in the grass and listening for an hour. I've spent so much of my life planning and documenting. I look forward to fleeting moments in the now.
CE: Are you reading any good books these days?
CB: Sadly, it's been a while since I've read anything good. Though not too long ago, I did read a travel book of a fella and his wife who bike around the world, but after the married couple break up on the road, I just lost interest. It was that dynamic that I found interesting, even though, when I picked it up, I thought it was a solo journey.
CE: What is the last song that grabbed you?
CB: I was recently on the road with my Dad and his wife Edna. I was in the back seat of the car. Edna put in a Paul Anka "best of" CD and sang along to all the songs. I'm not sure what it was, but listening to the old 50s tunes about love with the sun pouring in the windows was strangely memorable and meaningful.
CE: What is the last thing that made you laugh or smile?
CB: Our orange cat rolling around on the carpet.
CE: Who moves, surprises, or inspires you the most?
CB: I think I'm inspired by friends around me, who just make things happen. They push me to to do the best. Yet, they can easily convince me to run off and play. It's hard to be disciplined worker, when you work for yourself.
CE: Whom do you miss today?
CB: My grandma. I was looking through her letters from around January. Six months later, she's not able to write anymore as her health and days on earth have declined. I looked at her letters in a new way today, and will miss those letters coming in the mail.
CE:Tell me about a good conversation you've had recently? With whom would you like to reconnect?
CB: The Daniel Family in Florida (my aunt, uncle, and cousin). I hadn't been to visit in 4 years, and it was the first time I really had the chance to speak with each, individually and collectively. I enjoyed getting to know them better, and I think they enjoyed learning about me as well. We live on opposite corners of the US, so visits will be infrequent.
CE: Is your boyfriend an artist, too? How do you inspire each other? Where do the two of you like riding bikes?

CB: He's not an artist professionally like me, but he's creative in building things, and has talent in the arts, but hasn't developed that side of himself. He worked as an engineer for seven years in a cubicle, and is finally free, as of last year.

We like to ride bikes to explore different areas around Portland. We love to go bike-camping. Just pack some food, strap a tent and sleeping bag to the bike, and go. In a week and a half we are biking for 11 days to the Idaho-Canadian border, from Portland.

Bike-camping with her fellow, Matt.
Where they're going, they won't need (paved) roads.

Smelly was a U2 Fanzine, Kudzu was a Minizine

CE: You have been making zines for quite some time. Tell me about your first zines.
CB: I started making zines in high school. I must have been 15. I'm not sure of my inspiration, but I must have seen others and decided to make my own. I made quite a variety. Smelly was my U2 fanzine -- I completed seven issues. The Bizzare was a joint zine with my friend Erin where we focused on different themes. Issue number four was bathtubs, and that was when I started collecting postcards. I also made mini-zines such as one on kudzu (a vine-like plant from the South), which I sold in the lunchroom for a quarter. I asked each person if they knew what kudzu was, and followed up with: "For a quarter, you can find out."
CE: Do you have at least one copy of all the zines you have made? Have you been making zines lately?
CB: Yes, I do have at least one copy. The Bizzare made it to, I think, 6 issues. Kudzu was a minizine, Rolf Zombie was a one hit wonder I made with a boyfriend. Smelly, my U2 fanzine, had 7 issues. The Nickey Rose tribute zine was my last one. I've been wanting to make a zine of all my letters to the editor, but I haven't gotten around to it yet.
CE: You have taught quite a bit,with a range of populations, over the years. What do you enjoy most about teaching? What is the most challenging aspect? Do you have any of your student's work on display in your house?

CB: I've taught off and on. In college, I taught art and photography as a volunteer teacher at a local charter school (ages 10 - 18). I loved my students and enjoyed organizing art shows for them. I've taught a few workshops for adults, but not many. When you teach art, it's a challenge to not judge too much and to realize potential. When I was taking art in high school I was obsessed with the band U2 so much of my art was influenced by them. My art teachers were good: even though my subject manner was not high art, I was not criticized.

CE: It appears that some of your activities (biking, zine making, etc.) are collaboration-heavy. What do you enjoy about collaboration?
CB: Actually, I'm less of a collaborator these days and more of a contributor. Collaboration can be hard with someone like me who has strong opinions and particular expectations. I do better if I think of an idea and mostly bring it to a finished product, but ask for feedback and some collaboration along the way. I work solo mostly, but I contribute to larger events. For example, recently in Portland, we celebrated Pedalpalooza – two-plus weeks of bike fun. I organized three events for the festival.

CE: You seem to relate well to animals on paper. How do you relate to them in person? Do you have affinities to certain animals? Do you own or co-habitat any? My vegan friends call their pets "companion animals" to remove the possessive/speciesist connotation of "my cat," which I always thought was problematic anyway.
CB: Yes, I'm an animal fan, and will go to an animal in the room often before the person. I love cats and lizards. I co-habitat with my boyfriend's cats, Ember and Skie. My cat Scooter passed away just shy of his 19th birthday about three years ago. I had gotten him as a child, and we moved from Minnesota to California to Portland together.

CE: What type of people come to your letterpress demos?
CB: Either people interested in learning letterpress, or people who know nothing about it and who randomly walk by and wonder what this old press is all about.
CE: Have you made a print which was surprisingly popular? Have you made a piece which was poorly received?
CB: My St. Johns Bridge, which has now kicked off another 6 bridges and counting was hugely popular as a calendar, so I made it into a postcard. All my cards eventually have sold; though, I wish Hello Sailor was more popular. The card cracks me up.

The bridge that launched
a set of cards.

Bikes, Haiku, Tours

CE: You have a couple different bike personae. You give various bike tours. You also dress up and do other especially unique things in your local bike scene. How did you get involved in playing dress up and getting on your bike (the Bunny on a Bike Ride, the Red Bat character)?
CB: Well, I live in a unique city, Portland, where the adults enjoy dressing up. There is never just a party. There is always a theme: all red, pirate, the 60s, etc. So, bike culture is the same. In fact, I just lead a ride called The Twin Spin, where 11 pairs of "twins" came dressed alike. My press is Red Bat Press, so somehow I got the idea to make a Red Bat costume of Halloween. My mom helped me make it, and since then I've worn the costume for fun on numerous occasions.
CE: About your bike postcards: are any of these portraits of friends or people you know? How did you come up with the illustration/print style that is evident in these post cards? Are any of the cards especially popular?
CB: I now have 10 art postcards by Red Bat Press with bikes. One of them, "Shift to Bikes," is about a local group of bicyclists that get together for bike fun and activism. All the characters on that card represent someone I know in the bike community. The cow is a friend of mine who has a cow suit he sometimes wears to bike rides. The "Everybody Bike" postcards is popular and the "Bunny on a Bike" (one of my first cards) has been reprinted probably 10 times.

Everybody Bike. As they say in Boston,
as they do in Portland.

CE:Share some of the bike haiku. Who wrote them?

CB:

tires sing a sweet song
asphalt played like a cello
traction symphony

I make a set of Bike Haiku Stationery - and there are 4 haiku written by various Portlanders. The haiku are painted on art tiles at co-housing community near where I live.

CE: Your bike tours sound just like the thing I would want to do today. How many people go on an average ride, if there is such a thing? How is your relationship to the museums and art sites which you tour? Share a few fun or favorite stories from this experience. Do riders surprise you with their insights on things which you've seen countless times?

CB: I lead monthly bike tours to small museums in the Portland area. I average between 5 and 20, with usually around 8 – 12 people per ride. I like to do themes. We've done: Trainspotting, Craft Beer, Off Beat Art, Great Collections, Fame & Glamour. I get along very well with many of the small museum directors or collection owners. I've had more difficult times working with businesses. On the Craft Brew tour, I had a hard time finding a small craft brewery to give us a tour on Saturday. The brewers work weekdays and are not interested in working another day just to please a geeky bunch of curious cyclists.

Almost every tour has something that I can only call magical -- some kind of amazing shared experience happens. On one tour we visited the Kidd's Toy Museum. I did not expect the owner of the collection to be around, and he ended up taking us into some secret places that will never be again. The museum was spread out through his automobile business.He was retiring and sold it, and was consolidating the collection into one building. Our group felt very privileged to have the last viewing of Mr. Kidd's secret upstairs toy room.

CE: Have you seen the documentary The Cruise? It's about Timothy "Speed" Levitch, a NYC tour guide. It was directed by Bennett Miller, and only after his film Capote came out did The Cruise become easily available. Anyway, it's one of the most influential films of my life. In it, Levitch talks about whom he would like to give a tour to (essentially, his dream group). Do you have a dream group? He also compares his method and personality as a guide to historical figures. Are there any historical figures, celebrities, or personal acquaintances whose traits you try to embody while giving the tour?
CB: I think I have seen The Cruise, but a while back. As a tour guide, I'm not at all like Timothy. I'm a much better coordinator, and less of an entertaining tour guide. I leave a lot of the tour guide role to the museums or collectors. My favorite kind of group is one that shows a lot of glee and giddiness when we are in presence of amazing artifacts or hearing amazing stories along the tour. I scheduled a tour on the theme of Book Arts on Memorial Day weekend, and only had 3 others show up, but the three were so excited and into the tour. That it is one of my all time favorites. Our group felt like many, even though there were just a few of us. When I give a tour, I'm just myself - a little too honest, into what I do, and hoping to excite others.

CE: You seem to go up to Alberta quite a bit, for your art. Could you compare the art communities you have been a part of in Portland to those you have been a part of in Alberta?
CB: Every last Thursday, there is an art walk on NE Alberta Street in Portland. This is my 6th summer going out there! Hard to believe. I like to go because it's free to do: I just set up my little table display on the sidewalk and the people come. Sometimes, people come just to see me, but mostly I meet new people and see a lot of friends. I have a lot of art friends from Alberta Street. What I don't like so much now is how early I have to set up. The sidewalk space has become so popular that I HAVE to go out early, or I'm afraid I won't have a good space to set up. Alberta St. is part of Portland, not Canada!
CE: Ah. As I heard once in a movie: "How interesting, how bizarre." In other words: woops!

It's a bathtub party! On a card! This reminds me of a
Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt (Tour '96) I used to have.

"Hey, do you want to see my bathtub collection?"

CE: I found you first by way of your Bathtub Art Museum web site, where you showcase your bathtub postcard collection. In your bio, it explains that some showed up in your zine, The Bizzare, when you were in high school. What has led you to collect the postcards, all these years later?
CB: As mentioned before, my friend Erin Howk and I started making our own photocopied magazines and one was called The Bizzarre. Issue #4 happened to be about bathtubs. I started keeping my eye out for anything bathtub, and collected three postcards. Always the collector sort, I felt that once you have three of one thing you have a collection, and I've always liked postcards, so I started to pick up more postcards, and before i knew it (okay 10 years later) I had accumulated 200 bathtub-themed postcards. It was my secret little question (dirty secret)! New friends would come over, and I'd whisper, "Hey, do you want to see my bathtub collection?" Anyway, I decided to created a public online museum in 2003 so I could share it with more people. I called it the Bathtub Art Museum, because it's about Art of the Bathtub.

An influential work on paper, by the artist
at a younger age.

CE: Share a few stories about when, where, and how certain postcards were found, bought, or received. Are there any that have specifically strong emotional resonance with you?
CB: I have dug through boxes and boxes of postcards in my lifetime, but lately I find a lot of my really great finds on ebay. One postcard I have that I got when I first started collecting was one of 2 women and 2 men in 1 bathtub, with the title "folks are real friendly." This one I got from my friend Erin, who found it in Wisconsin, where she went to college. 10 years later, in the space of about a year, I found four more versions through ebay. In fact, some took some digging and select searching to find, and often I had to buy lots of postcards just to get the one. The five versions are all by different artists, and often highlight a different state, but are all based on the same idea or original drawing.
CE: Do you collect bathtub shards or any other tangible bathtub paraphernalia?
CB: It occurred to me that it would be amazing to have shards for walkways, mosaics, or hedges in this bathtub garden. Yes/No? I do want to someday have a bathtub garden, and then I'll probably actively collect bathtub pieces.For now, I do not. I collect doll house bathtubs, valentines with a bathtub, and for awhile, I collected rubber duckies (but kind of got bored with that one).
CE: Have any of the bathtub public shows of the bathtubs caused controversy? Do you get letters or complaints from parents or "concerned citizens" about the cards?
CB: Never. I only have a few postcards that I consider 18 & over (all found in San Francisco's Castro gay district - go figure!). I always try to keep the Bathtub Art Museum okay for all ages, though a few of the illustrated postcards could be considered a little risque.
CE: Have you ever put a story to any of the cards? Would you make bathtub-related work for Red Bat, or are these passions separate? Forgive me if I overlooked the cards.
CB: My press does have three bathtub themed art postcards: Bathtub Diver, Bunny in a Bath, and Bat Tub Party (halloween).
CE: What is the funniest or most ridiculous positive response to the collection? Any negative response?
CB: Most people find it really fun. I've gotten pretty much only positive feedback.
CE: Do you ever get pop culture theorists, history or art history scholars (or the like) seeking out the museum for research?
CB: I have had students doing research papers use my museum as one of the subjects, and people writing articles on collectors as well have contacted me. One student writing a report was pretty harsh on my museum in the sense that I wasn't doing a lot of things Museums should be -- such as having a good mission statement, and other such things. Truly I'd love to have my museum more official, but right now it's only me, and I have a million other projects dividing my attention.
CE: I really like Clutch McBastards's card. What is your personal or professional relationship with him. If I wanted to look at more of his work, where should I start?
CB: I work with Clutch at the Independent Publishing Resource Center. He's a funny guy and a great cartoonist and zinester. He is the Zine Librarian at the IPRC and draws a daily comic. I'm proud to have made it twice in the illustrated form in his last addition. He runs Tugboat Press, if you want to learn more.
CE: Bathtub cakes: tasty, or better to look at?
CB: I only tried one - these were for the Bathtub Art Museum's third birthday last year. I mostly got photos. The winner of the contest, John Dovydenas, was the one I got to taste, so maybe I was biased after all!
CE: What is the Adult Soap Box about?
CB: The Adult Soap Box derby is an annual event (that I have yet to see) of adults racing their own home-made derby cards down Mt. Tabor (a small, extinct volcano) in the heart of Portland. Last year, some ladies made a bathtub and dressed up in towels, but I guess they badly crashed.

"Rubber Duckie" and other Favorites

CE: Favorite songs about Bathtubs? Favorite songs to sing in the bathtub?
CB: "Rubber Duckie," by Ernie. I hardly ever take a bath, so don't sing.
CE: Dream bathtub and bathroom: what does it look or feel like?
CB: I like the idea of an outdoor bathtub, if you lived in a private forest.
CE: Favorite bathtub scene in a movie? Favorite painting or photograph that includes a bathtub?
CB: There's some great bathtub scenes form old movies. Like The Seven Year Itch, with Marilyn Monroe. She's in the bathtub, while a plumber is working on it. Hilarious! Favorite painting... The Death of Marat by Jacques-Louis David. Mainly because you'd have to be a history or art history major to know that there is a bathtub in the painting. Marat spent most of his life in the tub because of illness, so his desk was built over his tub. One day he was assassinated while in the tub, and the painting is about that.
CE: Favorite songs about art? Favorite song about letter writing?
CB: Art: " Vincent (Starry Starry Night)," by Don McClean (about Vincent Van Gogh). Letter writing: a song by Neil Finn, where he says a line: "He won't write you letters, full of excuses..."
CE: Favorite color?
CB: Muted green, dark red, yellow together.
CE: Favorite songs about bikes?
CB: "Bunny on a Bike," a song by Wes Kempfer about all my little Red Bat Press character cards.
CE: Favorite bike in a movie?
CB: The obvious is Pee Wee's Big Adventure.l
CE: Favorite bike you've ever owned?
CB: I have one bike, a black Puch Mixte. It's been a reliable steed for seven years.
CE: Any new characters or big changes for Red Bat Press on the Horizon?
CB: I 'm still working on finishing the Portland Bridge Series. I want to make a new mermaid, and maybe some dragons and other Chinese characters, but who knows.
CE: Given your mood and schedule today, where would we go in Portland to have this interview (instead of via emails, 3000 miles away)?
CB: Probably by the river, looking at Portland's bridges.

This machine...
is fantastic!

Aaron Katz: Quiet City, a Fuzzy Film

2007-08-24T21:57:00.002-05:00

Aaron Katz: focused filmmaker, fuzzy photo.

Fuzzy. Fuzzy. I’ll stand by it, and let it hold you once more: fuzzy. That’s the word that came out of my mouth directly after my first viewing of the film Quiet City. I went with my friend David Kelly to take in a film at the Independent Film Festival of Boston last spring. We had one or two screening slots available, and as you may imagine, it was hard to decide from half a dozen or so films we knew next to nothing about. I pushed for films that seemed to be about relationships. It came down to three films. As terrible as it is, we decided to go for the poster that proved the most captivating. There was this out-of-focus shot of one person helping another over a wall of some kind. Being a photographer of the out-of-focus, and having taken to the too-short abstract the film was given, I held my vote steady for Quiet City. David liked the photo and wanted to know what the climbing the wall was all about. We took the Somerville Theater lobby to the stairwell and to the screening room we went.

We were both glad that we chose Quiet City, and gave each other excited and astonished looks about the film during the end credits. I told him it felt fuzzy, that it was a "fuzzy film", and he got what i meant. I laughed with a sympathetic knowing ("I've been there!") during many scenes. I loudly whispered "wow" more than a few times, on account of: the simple grace of a frame, the compelling connection softly emitted between co-wanderers Jamie (Erin Fisher) and Charlie (Cris Lankenau), or the way that time and events unravel in the film. Simple plot elements so that the interview will make more sense: girl comes to the city with potential plans, girl meets boy and lingers with him in lieu of plans not panning out, conversations are had, and the Brooklyn borough of loud NYC proves to be a good, quiet web for them to wander within. There's a party, but also many little things things to take note of, including: a hat, a bouncy ball, condiment sandwiches, drum beats, haircuts, and fleeting runs.

Flash forward to July. Right around the time I try to get a hold of director Aaron Katz and Cris Lankenau for potential interviews, I come to find that Quiet City is going to be gracing the Boston area again—that very same weekend, no less. This time, it played as part of Harvard Film Archive's "Under the Radar" festival of "New American Independent Cinema 2007." Emails and numbers are exchanged, and Aaron Katz is nothing short of interested in and accommodating about meeting with me under such short notice. We go to my local bar, Grendel's Den, where I have had many a fuzzy feeling and conversation about relationships, twentysomething-hood, and city life. We talk about mustard (a little bit), moments (quite a bit), and movies (mostly). I'll let the conversation unfold below, so that you can enjoy the way Aaron tells a story.

I will make note of a few more things, though:

1) The director's NY Mets cap and Sun Records t-shirt are worn sincerely. They are not donned in quotation marks or held up by any posturing. Consider this an analogy to his filmmaking. You can't really be fuzzy without being honest. There have been "cute" films and "telling" films made about current twentysomethings, but I don't want a teddy bear version, or even a pseudo-conclusive soap box version, of my generation up there on the screen, thank you very much. I want something that might include what I might say, but would also make sense to a friend I haven't seen in years. I want to be able to send the DVD to a close companion and an old, meaningful fling, and have them not just "get it", but bask in it. Quiet City is that imperfect postcard I would send to both. Lastly, when I'm something of a film teacher, I want to be able to share it with students, because it is not only formally conscious and aesthetically captivating, but it is also a film that, like a good fall sweater, you don't fall out of touch with easily.

2) After Grendel's, I skedaddled over to the film with a recent friend, a singer of indie pop songs (cultural critics, read: creative peer). She was quite taken by various scenes, as well. After the film, she spelled out the main reason why she liked it: at similar moments in her own life, she felt(on the inside) and acted (on the outside) not unlike the characters.

See, I'm not the only one taken by the collaborative efforts of the filmmakers behind Quiet City. Hopefully, after this interview, you'll go see the film (or buy the DVD in January), and take in the fuzzies. Trust me on this one: it's 1, 2, 3, Goooo!

* Quiet City will have a week long run at The IFC Center in Manhattan (August 29- September 4, 2007). It will be headlining the New Talkies: Generation D.I.Y. series there. The film will also be showing at the Northwest Film Forum in Seattle (September 7-9, 2007). Future Screenings TBA. Dance Party, USA, Aaron Katz's first feature film, is also part of the festival (August 28-29, 2007). Some other films mentioned below are also playing in the New Talkies series, or at a cinema or DVD player near you!

In Medias Res (Interview) and In the Moment (Film)

CE: What was it like, working with Erin Fisher and Cris Lankenau, making this type of film?
AK: It just seems like they were really cool with it, because neither of them were actors. I mean, they maybe both have done some acting, but they’re pretty much playing versions of themselves. They were also being open with what the script is about.

I had Erin in mind, actually, as I was writing the movie.

Erin Fisher, not to be confused with Anna Karina.

CE: She is a friend?
AK: Yeah, she is a friend, but she also she went to North Carolina School of the Arts [NCSA, hereafter]. She dated the producer of Quiet City for a while, many years ago. She’s interesting and has quite an ability to be in the moment—just in life, not only as an actor—just to really be there, and not be thinking about what’s going on tomorrow, or worried about this or that. She’s there for whatever is happening, you know?
CE: Definitely, Definitely.
AK: Plus, she is also very fun to hang out with. She’s, in some ways, very out of touch with the world at large—what’s going on in news or whatever—but, at the same time, that makes her observations about things neat and refreshing.
CE: There is definitely a large, well, they both [Cris and Erin] have a presence in the film, yet a subtle presence. Like in the beginning, when she’s walking underground, the way she’s carrying herself is like what you said, in the moment.
AK: Yeah, yeah.
CE: Not too much, and with a subtleness: without hitting you over the head in this long, drawn out Antonioni way, which is beautiful in its own right, but wouldn’t fit the film necessarily.

Then, there’s their pacing and the way they fit together well. The word I kept whispering in my mind was: almost. Almost. Because, throughout the film, as a filmgoer, I get this expectation that they might kiss (or might not kiss). It’s something that doesn’t have to happen, it seems. Still, I kept feeling “almost, almost.” Things happen so beautifully, naturally, in the way they would if you hung out with somebody often and you just began to connect more. And the way everything is shot, the one feeling that kept coming to me, emotionally, was fuzzy.

AK: I like your observation. That’s what that we were trying to capture. In a lot of movies about people meeting, the people say too much, or they say more than they would in life, to progress the plot. In life, I feel like there are a lot of things you’re not saying. You might say one thing and really mean another.
CE: Yeah. Plus, their body language and their phrasing. There are certain energy levels, rising and falling, subconsciously and back and forth, between them. At the same time, there are unexpected things happening, like that whole scene with the automated toy.
AK: With the crane.
CE: The crane. Oh, that was cool.

(Im-)Perfect Incidental Music

CE: Your friend did the music?
AK: Yeah, Keegan DeWitt. He did the music for my first film as well, Dance Party, USA. It’s coming out in January. It’s going to be a double disc with Quiet City. So, Keegan, we’ve known each other for a long time. I told him which scenes I wanted music for, and for each of those scenes—he didn’t do a spotting session—he just wrote two or three pieces.
CE: Is a spotting session where?
AK: A spotting session is where you’re sitting there and have the film playing on a screen, and everything is timed out to fit the film. For this film, it didn’t make sense. We felt that it would be too rigid. Erin’s playing drums in the beginning, but for the rest of the movie, he did the score.
CE: You went to NCSA, so did one of my favorite directors, David Gordon Green. I don’t know if you know the story of him and David Wingo. They were grade school buddies. He came to my college for a screening and Q&A of George Washington. It was in this packed room with around 300 people, some asking him pretty serious questions. He was asked, “How did you and the film composer meet?” It was funny, he nonchalantly told them they met at a screening for The Karate Kid, in 1984.

I’ve helped friends find pop music for their films. It’s interesting work. I’m interested in it on an academic level, too. Even when you’re caught up in the narrative, there’s so much going on with the music.

Did Keegan write the keyboard scene?

AK: No. Actually, that’s totally improved.

Test for Volume: SXSW Film &

Other Screenings

CE: BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH.
AK: THIS IS A TEST FOR VOLUME. TEST FOR VOLUME. SEEING IF THE SOUND IS GOOD!

CE: I plan to get better equipment when I’m working more than just two part time jobs. Hopefully, even travel for the site.
AK: I did this interview with Filmmaker Magazine, and she had the exact same thing.
CE: Oh, you did an interview with them?
AK: Yeah, a few months ago. It’s in the spring issue. Alicia Van Couvering wrote it. Her article is pretty interesting. It’s about my films, Joe Swanberg’s and Bujalski’s, basically a lot of the people playing at the “Under the Radar” festival.
CE: How did you meet Andrew and Joe?
AK: Joe, I met at SXSW 2006. I went with my previous film, Dance Party, USA. His film LOL was there. I went to LOL kind of expecting it to be bad, actually. I had seen a bunch of stuff I didn’t like very much, and, I don’t know, I was getting a little jaded about what to expect. I went and thought, "Wow, this is great!"

They had this party afterwards, at this really cool bar. The Peacock, it’s called. All the people from my movie went there, and I met Joe and talked to him a little bit. Then, we stayed in touch through e-mail. When I went to the Chicago Underground Film Fest with Dance Party, I ended up staying at his loft there. Joe’s from Chicago.

And Bujalski is someone who I don’t know well at all, but who’s around every now and again. He’s in Joe’ movie, Hannah Takes the Stairs.

CE: He’s pretty big here. I guess he used to live out here, in Jamaica Plain. His movie Mutual Appreciation was huge last summer.
AK: He’s in Austin right now, making a movie, Reliable Responsible. I suspect it’s going to be really good.

CE: How hard is it to get into SXSW?
AK: I think it's hard. It’s hard for me to gage. I know there are definitely some people that made films that I like who weren’t able to get in. What happened initially was that Dance Party got in. I just submitted it without contacting anyone. Then I got a call in December of 2005 from Matt Dentler, who programs the festival. He loved it, and that was great. I kept him up to date on the progress of Quiet City, and he was expecting to get a cut. I sent him a rough cut. Quiet City turned out to be good, and he was excited to have it.

But, like I said: there a lot of great films that didn't get in, and some great films that do, and some films that I don’t like, personally, that do.

CE: Do you know how long they have been doing the movie component at SXSW?
AK: This is their 15^th year, I think. They’ve been doing it for quite a while. I think it’s come into it’s own, as a film festival, thanks to Matt. He took a big chance on Dance Party, USA, and he took a big chance on a lot of the other films, like Joe’s first movie, Kissing on the Mouth. A friend of a friend told him about it. At the same time, it’s a chancy thing. It’s cool that he’s willing to take those chances.

CE: Definitely. With either Dance Party or Quiet City, were there any audiences that you were truly wowed by? Any you had great experiences with during the screening? Were there Q&A’s that kept you excited about the project?
AK: I think I've had pretty much the range of experiences with audiences. At the Independent Film Festival of Boston, both screenings were really good. The audiences were into it and excited to be there, watching the movie. I had a similar experience in Maryland. It ranges from experiences like that, to, I can’t put my finger on it, but the feeling in the room is sometimes half and half. For the most part, we’ve had positive experiences interacting with audiences; although, we haven’t played theatrically yet with Quiet City.
CE: Did you have a theatrical release for Dance Party?
AK: A very small one. In New York, we did for a couple weeks, and then in Portland, and that’s it. I think we probably could have played more places, but I didn’t know what I was doing and neither did anyone else. Pretty much every time we do something, it’s a totally new experience. Except for now. I’m glad that we have Ben Stambler. Ben produced this one, along with my friend Brendan McFadden, who produced both films. Ben was a second producer, and he has a lot of business savvy that I don’t have. He works for acquisitions at THINKfilm. He understands how the business side works. Luckily, we’re going to be in eight cities with Quiet City.
CE: I would love to work for THINKfilm or Plexifilm, to just work for a film distribution company.
AK: There are a lot of companies in New York doing cool stuff. Ben works for THINKfilm, and he worked for Magnolia before. Brendon moved to Mississippi to produce an IFC film. With all those companies, and with First Look and Zeitgeist, at least half their slate is really interesting to me, which is pretty decent.

Tell it Back To Me: Auditions, Keyboards, "..."

CE: You were saying at the IFFB screening that you had the auditions at Magnolia.
AK: We did. That was back when Ben worked at Magnolia. Cris was talking about that. I think he thought, "Wow, this must be a real movie, at a nice office and everything." We just went in there on a Saturday and used a conference room space. It was a nice place to have auditions.
CE: Did you have auditions between the male and female actors?
AK: I already knew I wanted Erin Fisher to be in it. I had worked on it while she was living in Charlotte. She came up for two reasons. One, to talk over the script: I wanted to adjust the character to what made sense to her. Then, to read her with the guys. I had five guys come in. Going into it, I had the feeling that Cris was going to be the best, and he was. There was someone else who was pretty good, but Cris and Erin worked well together.
CE: And so you guys read scenes?
AK: Not exactly. We did read some scenes from the movie. More than that, we hung out and talked about this and that. I brought along copies of Travels with Charley with me. I had them pick out a paragraph or two, and then make photocopies.

[The waitress comes by with the food. A plate of mashed potatoes with Gorgonzola's cheese for Aaron, and a Reuben with a side of mashed potatoes for myself. Beers during the interview: Original Sin Cider (AK) and Cambridge Amber (CE).]
Both: Thank you.
Waitress: You’re welcome. Do you need any ketchup, mustard or anything else?
CE: Mustard and mayonnaise.
W: Mustard and…?
CE: Mayonnaise.
W: Mayonnaise. Okay.
CE: It’s kind of awkward to say, “I want mayonnaise on top of mashed potatoes.”
AK: Dude, it’s really hot. Good call with the mustard. Anyway.
CE: Do you often mashed potatoes it with Gorgonzola cheese?
AK: Yeah, yeah, it's good. It’s really hot.

Erin and Chris, together, and not

worrying about being interesting or clever.

AK: Anyway, so I had them read bits of Travels with Charley. I really like that book.

In a movie, there’s all this history that’s not their own. Instead of just saying it, I like people to be able to say it, and not be thinking of how they’re going to say it. But just be thinking about what it is, and then say it. So, Travels with Charley is great. It’s so specific and visual and a good thing to have them read at the auditions.

I had them actually tell it back to me: read the paragraphs, and then tell it back to me, in their own words. It was interesting to hear what different people took from it. And then we did another thing. I hate to call them acting exercises. I’m skeptical of a lot of acting things. I had them do a couple things. For example: talk over one another, back and forth, describing exactly what they saw. That was a good way to feel out if people were in tuned with what the other person was doing, and see whether they could just be in the moment, and not worry about being interesting or clever.
CE: What they saw in the room?
AK: No, behavior that they saw in the other person. If you and I were doing it right now, I might say: “You’re smiling, you’re nodding. You seem to understand what I’m saying.” You, simultaneously, would be giving it back to me. You end up describing behavior, and also what the other person is describing back to you. It’s an interesting way to see if actors will engage with each another. Some people have a very difficult time with it. Not to say that makes them necessarily a bad actor; but, for what I wanted to do, it was important for people to be there in the moment. Not to worry: “Is this interesting, is this good?” That’s not their job, to worry if it’s good or not.

CE: And they flow very well, Erin and Cris. The only way I could think of it is energy: that movement of energy between the two of them. It's not always balanced, but it doesn’t have to be. It doesn’t follow the typical genre convention, which focuses on: “Which side is the relationship side? Which side is the friend side?” The film has more of a “…” sentiment.
AK: Yeah.

Jamie and Charlie, lingering in "..."
of the
1, 2, 3, go! sunlight.

CE: Likewise, in an actual situation, the energy and the tone shift naturally between two people. This happens in conversations, too. If I were to say, “Let’s go to Davis Square! Let’s go on the swings there,” you would ask me, “Where and why?” At the same time, maybe you would be excited. This happens in the film, too. One of the sweetest scenes is when they’re running, and it’s Cris who’s saying, “Is it 1, 2, 3, go?” That scene! Or, when they’re jumping the wall, they way they work with each other is so…
AK: Yeah, it was really great to see. They didn’t know each other before the movie. They got to know each other during the movie. Like that running scene. We knew we were going to shoot it in Prospect Park. We didn’t know exactly where, and we didn’t know how it was going to go. In the script, there was not a lot of dialogue for that scene, but….

Mustard on potatoes is great. And I, uh, got my Gorgonzola, heh.

CE: Definitely.
AK: So, it was interesting to watch them. We did just one take of that running thing. Erin had to leave to go back to Charlotte. It was getting before sunset; it was probably six, five or six. She had a plane at 9:30, and we were running out of time to shoot. We just shot one take. It was one of the scenes that, right when we shot it, I was really excited about. Yeah, that scene’s good!
CE: Was it shot from the ground?
AK: Hmmm Mhmmm.
CE: Was that in the script or was that circumstantial?
AK: We didn’t have a shot list. On my first movie, we had a pretty rigid shot list. For Quiet City: a) we didn’t have a lot of time, and b) I wanted it to feel looser than that.

CE: I’m being kind of unprofessional, just glowing about your film, but, there are so many great moments. I would just want to send a scene to someone, like "Wow, look at this."

I think the time when it really, really hit me was during that keyboard scene.

AK: Hmmm Mhmmm.
CE: A) because the way it was done, b) what you left out, but also c) because anybody else would have done it differently. I don’t think I would have liked how someone who was making a gimmicky twentysomethings film would have done it, you know?
AK: Hmmm Mhmmm.
CE: I mean, the components are so part of twentyomething culture. A girl and a guy in a room. Keyboards are like the biggest gimmick in indie rock now. Yet, it's so sweet, it’s so natural. It’s so what these people would be doing.
AK: Yeah.
CE: And the way Cris holds off, and all of that.

Almost every, every drop of footage

CE: Were there any scenes that were hard to film?
AK: There were a lot of the scenes were hard to film. In a way, almost every scene was a challenge, because we just had so little time and so few resources that we were always battling the clock. Getting stuff set up in time and having enough stuff and having enough people to set things up was challenging.

An instance where we had a particularly tight schedule, or had to get out of a place was when we were shooting the party stuff.

CE: Yeah, yeah.
AK: That was at a friend's house. It was the seventh day of shooting. The second thing we shot that day. The crew and actors were already having a long day. It was my birthday, October 29, Friday. Everyone was having Halloween parties. It was in this former warehouse space in Williamsburg that had been converted into apartments. The whole building is nothing but hipsters living in cheap spaces. Of course, there were Halloween parties galore. It was loud and chaotic, and hard to keep a handle on things. Everything took longer than it was supposed to, and we ended up using almost every—every drop of footage that we shot wound up in the movie. Also, there was a party next door that had this thumping bass. We kept asking, “Can you turn it down for 10 minutes?” Things like that.

The art gallery was hard, too. That was at a real art gallery.

A Real director (Aaron Katz) and a real actress

(Sarah Hellman) navigate the gallery.

CE: Whose art is on the walls?
AK: Her name is Arielle Assouline-Lichten. She’s a friend of a friend. My friend Caitlyn, whom I’ve known since high school, works in the New York gallery scene. She set us up at this gallery that she used to work for. She has, of course, friends who do artwork. So, that’s Arielle’s stuff, but it’s supposedly Robin’s (Sarah Hellman) artwork in the movie. When the camera starts there [in the gallery], Arielle is standing by her work, talking to Caitlin. Of course, no one ever notices that. No one would ever notice that, but every time I see it, I’m like, “Ha! That’s Arielle & Caitlin!”

And then there’s some other artists work.

CE: There are photographs, right?
AK: Those paintings are the ones that are supposed to be Sara's. There are also some photos that you see. And those are by someone that I don’t know. Actually, there’s four artist’s work there.

That scene was a challenge for the actors. I think that was our second day, and up until then, they had only been around a very small crew of five people and themselves. But now, with all the extras there for the opening, there’s this audience of twenty people. Cris and Erin both got really nervous, and felt that they looked stupid. They had a difficult time with that scene. It was a pretty difficult space to light, also. The area is so bright white, and to figure out how to shoot it in a way that was interesting was difficult.

CE: In the film, you get this nervous feeling from Chris, because he is seeing the friend and he's kind of awkward about it.
AK: Yeah, yeah. That comes from his nervousness about the people around, but it feels like it’s his nervousness from his asshole friend showing up and talking about some girl he likes in Miami. He’s also nervous because he’s meeting Sarah. I think it ends up working in the film. That was the scene when they were the most nervous about doing a good job. For the most part, they were cool about not caring if they were doing a good job, and being trustful of me to tell them or guide them where they needed to go.

High art filmmaking, with hoodie-style nonchalance.

CE: There's a restaurant in the very beginning. Where is that?
AK: That's a place called Phoebe's in Williamsburg. A friend of Cris's works there. Basically, locations, extras and everything were all via friends, or friends of friends. When we worked out a scene, we thought “Okay, what do we have access to, or what do friends of ours have access to?” Then, we molded the script to fit that. That ended up being both utilitarian and cool, because a lot of stuff had history. I like that. It’s also cool to see and use these places, instead. With locations where you don’t know the people, a lot of times it ends up being this nervous relationship where you feel they want you to leave, and are worried that you may break something.

CE: And, do you live in Williamsburg, or…?
AK: No, I don’t. I live in Gowanus, Brooklyn, which is way south of Williamsburg. No one really knows where Gowanus is. If it were triangulated: one side would be Park Slope, one side would be Carrol Gardens, and on the south side, Sunset Park. In between, there is a canal, and that’s where Gowanus is. When I first moved, I didn’t know too much about New York. My real estate agent told us it was Park Slope, but I've since realized that it's definitely not Park Slope.

CE: Ha ha.
AK: I like my neighborhood and I used my apartment in the movie several times, as different locations.
CE: Oh, using different rooms as locations?
AK: Yeah. When they're making sandwiches: that's in my apartment kitchen. When they hop the wall: that's my apartment, from the back. When Cris checks his mail: that’s my apartment hallway. A lot of the sunset stuff, that’s from my roof.

CE: And you guys filmed for how many days?
AK: Eight days. Well, Erin was there for eight days, and we shot on seven of them. I remember we had a Sunday off, and we went over to Alex Bickel’s place. He’s our gaffer, camera assistant, technical adviser—he’s very technically savvy. We watched a Steeler’s game and danced to Sam Cooke.
CE: Whoa.
AK: It was really fun. That was our one day off. It wasn’t totally off. Late at night, we shot some of the subway stuff.
CE: Hmmm Mhmmm. Watch out for Otis Redding, dancing to Otis Redding.
AK: Ha.
CE: And Sam Cooke has this gorgeous album, Night Beat. Ray Charles plays piano on it, but he’s not even mentioned on the front cover. It’s not like “and featuring.”
AK: Really?
CE: He does all these covers, like “Little Red Rooster.” You wouldn’t imagine it to be so sweet. I had only heard Howlin' Wolf, Muddy Waters, and The Grateful Dead do it, but had never heard it sung as such a sweet song.
AK: Yeah. We listened to Live at the Harlem Square Club. It was probably one of the best memories from shooting, or not shooting, I guess.

I remember, during the filming we were all so tired because all of us were working and shooting for 12 or 14 hours. We were all staying at the producer’s apartment in Fort Green in Brooklyn. We’d come home and then there’d be me and the producers basically doing everything. We would be on the phone about: locations for the next day, props and extras, and making sure we had food prepared. I think I was more tired during Quiet City than I maybe have ever been.
CE: Wow.

AK: Because Dance Party, USA was done at a leisurely schedule. We shot that over a month.
CE: Did you shoot that during your senior year?
AK: No, I graduated in 2004, from NCSA. Right as soon as I graduated, I went with Brendan and Mark.... At the time I had this 1963 Chevy Nova. It was totally falling apart. I loved it, everyone else hated it. We drove from North Carolina and went up to Pittsburgh to get Brendan, where he was living at the time. We drove to Portland and shot Dance Party. We had all summer: we had a month to do pre-production, then a month to shoot it. Everything on that was very much like: “Oh, we’ll shoot for six or eight hours today, then take a two day break.”
CE: Ha ha.
AK: It was the opposite for Quiet City, which was great in some ways, but I really don’t know if I’d ever been that tired, ever before.

CE: Yeah, I was going ask if you had ever shot in Portland [Aaron’s home town] for a film, but…
AK: Dance Party was shot in Portland.

I love Portland and I would definitely shoot something else there. Portland’s a very friendly city. We shot on the train there, and did it legitimately. We didn’t just get on or whatever, like we did in New York. In Portland, Trimet is the transportation authority, and they’re very nice. There were like: “Yeah, you can do whatever, as long as it’s Saturday or Sunday.” They were a little more concerned that people would bother us more then we would bother anyone else.

In Brooklyn, shooting at night, we never had a problem. There was this police officer, one time, wondering what we were doing: “Yeah, what are you guys doing?” He turned out to be nice. He said, “Be done by the time it gets to be rush hour,” so we would be out of people’s way. Everyone was very nice. It would be different if we were shooting in mid-town. Brooklyn is very low-key.

A Great Movie: It is What it is

CE: So you wrote and directed Dance Party, USA and Quiet City.
AK: Hmmm Mhmmm.
CE: I hate lists of top fives, so I will just ask for movies you feel strongly about. From a screenwriter, director, or cinematographer’s point of view—instead of just “your top five.”

AK: Yeah, yeah. Well, this will be disorganized. I will just rattle off a few, and maybe say what I like about them.

I really like Jean-Pierre Mellville and especially Le Samourai. His work couldn’t be more different, in a way, form what I do, but I love his stuff. His camera direction is sparse and great. Have you seen Les Samurai?

CE: No. I have yet to get into his work. I’ve always wanted to see Bob le Flambeur.
AK It’s good, but in my opinion, Le Samourai, Le Circle Rouge, and Un Flic, those are the three best. Also from that era and French, I love Jacques Tati films. Again, totally, totally different from Dance Party & Quiet City. More similar and probably an influence, more directly, is Ozu.
CE: Oh, sure.
AK: And, you know, his stuff is more formal. The camera almost never moves place in an Ozu movie. I love how everyone in his movies is so sad and can’t get what they want, but they’re so polite about it. It’s not like they’re screaming about it. They’re just sort of polite about it, but you feel their pain. I really like Ozu.

CE: Other filmmakers whose work you see, over and over?
AK: Yeah, I’m trying to think what I see the most. I’d have to say, as much as I’m sure everyone who has graduated from film school in the last ten years would say: Paul Thomas Anderson is probably the current, is one of the contemporary filmmakers that I just—I mean—I love all his films. And there’s a trailer for his new film, called There Will Be Blood.
CE: Oh, wow.
AK: I love Paul Thomas Anderson. I’ve seen all of his films many times. Actually, I love Renny Harlin, which seems kind of crazy.
CE: No.
AK: I love some of those mid-90s action films.
CE: The Long Kiss Goodnight?
AK: Yeah, The Long Kiss Goodnight. Die Hard 2, Cliffhanger, and The Long Kiss Goodnight are three great films. Renny Harlin: his sense of camera direction is so good, and his sense of the outrageous is so good. His recent films are awful, mostly I think, not his fault. Cutthroat Island, the Gina Davis pirate movie, was an enormous financial disaster. Ever since that, he’s had to direct crap, like Driven, with Sylvester Stalone. I like Deep Blue Sea, it’s kind of amazing. I don't understand why Renny Harlin didn't direct the new Die Hard movie.

CE: How about movies you try to get people to see?
AK: Ali: Fear Eats the Soul, the Fassbinder Film. I love that film. Or, Sullivan's Travels. I had an argument with someone recently about whether Sullivan's Travels was better than The Lady Eve. Two people were asserting that The Lady Eve was better, but I disagree. Sullivan’s Travels is more fun, and Veronica Lake is more appealing. And then I really love 70’s American filmmaking: Peter Bogdanovich, Hal Ashby, so on and so forth.
CE: Yeah.
AK: I recently saw Killer of Sheep. It’s by Charles Burnett. It’s a film which no one has seen, from the 70s. He went to UCLA. He made it in ghettos of Los Angeles. He is black and he felt that in a lot of films from the 70s, black people were marginalized, or exploited in outrageous, heightened ways, like in Shaft or Superfly—the blaxploitation films. He wanted to make something that was totally real. It’s just absolutely amazing. He was trying to figure out their relationships and figure out their lives. This company Milestone just re-issued it. I highly recommend it. It was shot in black in white for like no money at all. It is shot in this way that seems like it’s not using any of the type of film language that anyone knows about.
CE: Oh, wow, wow.
AK: It’s totally, totally unique. It’s like nothing else.
CE: But it makes sense within itself.
AK: Yeah, but it makes sense within itself. Exactly. Also from the same era, if someone asked me what people have to see, I would say Fred Wiseman documentaries of the 60s and 70s. Especially Titicut Follies, about an insane asylum. His stuff is totally verite. There’s no narration, there’s no interviews, no nothing. Except for Titicut Follies, which has more a filmic name, it’s just the name of the thing. Everything is just what it is: one's called Juvenile Court, one’s called Hospital, one’s called Meat. Meat’s about meet packaging, Hospital is about a hospital. It is what it is. That's great!

They're hard to get your hands on. I believe he’s retained the rights to all his films, He screens them occasionally, but they’re very hard to see. Ronnie Bronstein, who is part of the “Under the Radar,” knew Fred Wiseman, and Thursday morning I got to see Juvenile Court. It’s absolutely amazing.

Books and Other Hoopdedoodle

CE: Are there any novels or writers that you read or re-read? Some that may influence your filmmaking? For example, Raymond Carver is quite filmic.
AK: I love Raymond Carver. I read Raymond Carver regularly. I love Travels with Charley. I love his Steinbeck in general.
CE: Have you read Steinbeck’s Sweet Thursday?
AK: No, I haven’t.
CE: I recommend it. It starts with him dissing himself, essentially. His characters are talking about Cannery Row, saying that he knew nothing about Monterey. It’s a seedier book, and it’s so lively. One of his characters says that he wants descriptive parts, but he wants the author to come out and tell when he’s doing that—he should call those chapters “hoopdedoodle.” That’s rather self-reflexive, as Steinbeck usually goes at length about things.
AK: Yeah, Steinbeck. There’s actually a novel I really want to adapt. It would be a miracle if I ever get to make it. It would need a huge budget. Have you hear of this guy, George MacDonald Fraser?
CE: No, no.
AK: He’s a British author. He’s still writing now, but his best stuff was in the 70s. He wrote a series of novels about this guy, Harry Flashman. They're set in Victorian England. Flashman is this supposed hero, this hero-soldier. In fact, he’s a coward who doesn't care about anyone except for himself. Fraser creates a series of humorous incidents and Flashman always ends up looking like the hero. They’re these great books.

The first one is called Flashman. The one I want to do is called Flashman and the Redskins. It's his adventures in the American West. It’s cynical and it’s an indictment of colonialism and westward expansion. Nobody comes out looking good. The Americans don’t, the British don’t, and the Native American’s don’t. Basically, everyone is greedy and cares only about themselves, and how they can manipulate the situation to benefit themselves. Flashman is caught in the middle of it. He would rather laze around, not do anything and skate on by. In a way, he's the sanest person there. He’s sort of a pacifist. He would rather not fight.

But when it comes down to it, he’ll do anything to save his own skin. There’s faithfulness to him, and humanity. It’s like Apocalypse Now but funnier, set in the American West. Apocalypse Now meets Barry Lyndon. I don’t know what it is, but it’s great.

I’m thinking of dividing it in two halves. The first half would make a great movie. But, it would need big stars and a big budget.

CE: Any other books that captivate you?
AK: I’m not sure what the through line is to what I read. At times, I’ll get into reading historical fiction books, like Patrick O’Brian or C.S. Forester. Sometimes, I’ll end up reading funnier stuff. I have this James Thurber book. He wrote for The New Yorker.
CE: Funny stuff, like poetry, right?
AK: Poetry, and his best things are from people writing in questions about animals. He gave these absurd responses.
CE: He wrote a book about it, right?
AK: I forget what it’s called.
CE: The Thurber Zoo. Not that?
AK: The Thurber Carnival is the one that... I forget the pet questions [book]. It’s another one, with witty turns of phrase and puns. I like that stuff a lot.

I should probably get going. I’m supposed to meet Bronstein pretty soon.

CE: Bronstein is the guy who…?
AK: He made Frownland, which is playing right now, but it should be around again.
CE: Yeah, yeah, a lot of films look good. I want to see Frownland and Finally, Lillian and Dan.

Other Cities, Other Dudes

CE: Some last questions.

Is there a city you want to film?

AK: A city I want to film? Maybe a couple places. Olympia, Washington I really like. I have an idea for a mid-nineties slacker movie set in the K Records, Kill Rock Stars kind of era in Olympia. I have an image of this rainy, small town, sort of a grainy, small town. I have this memory of reading some zine in this store 10 years ago. I can't think of what it was called, but it was about this guy who was living in Olympia, working for a record label, who ends up just hanging around. I wish I could think of what it was because I really liked it. I read 10 pages of it, but I had no money. I couldn't even buy it. So, I always thought that Olympia would be a good place to make a movie.

Other than that, I want to make something in the wilderness, somewhere. I don't know where, exactly. Maybe Montana, South Dakota, Nebraska—somewhere in there. To add one more to that, I love Lexington, Kentucky. I just had a great feeling for that city.

CE: That’s just so key. I would rather live in a warmer place than Boston. Albuquerque, even, has such a nice feel. I'm sick of the harshness. Anyway, I was just thinking how cities play a role, directly or indirectly, in so many films. Like Wim Wenders and Berlin, or…
AK: I really think cities make a difference, and I love trying to capture the feel of a city. I love when a film accomplishes it. This isn’t a city, but I think Stranger than Paradise captures the feel of dilapidated, tourist Florida, like off-the-beaten-path tourist Florida, so well.
CE: So well.
AK: I don’t know what it actually felt like, maybe it’s totally different, but it captured—at least my in my imagination—what it would be. Jarmusch, in general! Mystery Train is so great at capturing what Memphis feels like. I’ve been to Memphis—I was there 15 years after Mystery Train was made—and maybe it’s me projecting what I wanted to see, but I feel like there’s something there that’s really captured by Mystery Train. And Down by Law captured Louisiana so well.

CE: Yeah. The cinematographer for Stranger than Paradise is the filmmaker Tom DiCillo. He made Johnny Suede. Have you seen that?
AK: I have seen that.
CE: I highly recommend his film Box of Moonlight, with John Turturro and Sam Rockwell.
AK: Speaking of John Turturro, he's in Transformers and gives one of the most ridiculous, uncalled for performances that I’ve ever seen in my life. Transformers is awful, and I kind of can’t believe I saw it (although I did have a good time watching it). It’s as though Michael Bay said, "I don't care. Do whatever you want to do. I don’t care how crazy or ridiculous.” John Turturro. I don’t even know what to say.

Which reminds me of another film I see over and over again, The Big Lebowski. I think it is absolutely amazing, and really funny. There’s also something sad about The Big Lebowski, which I love.

CE: You know, that had some the worst reviews when it came out in the theaters.
AK: The Big Lebowski did? Really?
CE: 1 ½ to 2 ½ stars, most places. And it’s funny, because it’s become a classic, a cult film. Sitting in the theater, opening day, I saw it with two people.

It’s strange, because it’s part noir. If you do go back and see The Big Sleep, you see the scenes they were paying homage to and pulling from. I read this very awkward review. It said something like: "What do you do with a film like this?"

AK: That’s funny. I saw it when it came out, but maybe I was young enough at the time that I didn’t notice the reviews. I think it's the Coen Brother's best film. I like Miller's Crossing, but I like The Big Lebowski a bit better.
CE: Every moment is memorable, without trying to be.
AK: Yeah.
CE: Did you hear about their next movie?
AK: No Country for Old Men. It’s supposed to be great. It was at Cannes, and people flipped for it there.

[Grendel's logistics.]
Waitress: Anything Else?
AK: No, that’s it.
W: All done?
AK: Yeah, thanks.
[We prepare to leave.]
AK: I’ve got to get back.
CE: I’m sorry I couldn’t cover it all.
AK: No, no that’s okay. I understand. Um, let’s see. Not sure, about 11 or so? Here's about eleven.

Aaron Katz, mashed potatoes, and a film called Quiet City. I'm almost about to say it... f-u-z-z, 1, 2, 3, Goooo!

Conversations Update: New Computer

2007-08-13T20:38:00.000-05:00

To my fellow conversationalists,

Hello. How are you? This is a brief note of explanation (not excuse). The web site is not on hiatus, nor is it anywhere close to being an unfinished, static project. My original goal of posting 1-3 interview-conversations of various length, focus, and spirit per week is becoming possible. However, as you may notice, there have been long gaps between interviews. The three main reasons are: an ever-sick computer; the learning curve of finding and securing individuals to interview; developing skills to provide a quicker turn-around, and personal life changes.

As some know, I had held onto a seasonally sick laptop for far too long. Since May 2007, it has acted up in sincerely unfortunate ways, and yet shown promise as a usable computer. However, I have had to replace the former laptop with a new one. Since I don't quite have a six figure job, I had to hold out until I found a good but affordable computer. At last, dear friend, I have, I have. Hopefully, this one won't decide to dump memory at random times, delete all documents (but not programs), or engage in other sundry activities. We have a great relationship so far-- the new computer and me--and the keypad is amicable to quick, efficient, and error-free typing.

This means that I'm ready, willing, and more than able to provide you with more turns in the ever-expanding conversation fabric that is perpetually around us, and endlessly expanding, unraveling, and growing thick with daily sewing, weaving, etc.

Thank you for your patience. Coming soon are interviews with: Aaron Katz (Quiet City), Carye Bye, a few innovative photographers, an NPR producer, street buskers, and the next few people that move me, move me, move me, with their innovative behavior!

Shahin I. Beigi
Conversations, Etc.
Founder and Fellow Conversationalist

P.S. Though you have not met my new friend and colleague, perhaps you can help me come up with a name for my new computer!