I wonder if my tiny blog readership contains folks who don’t follow me on FaceBook. Well, if you are one of those, here is a link to a fun and dumb hasty edit of some video I shot back on Sunday. Maggie Lasher, dancer, choreographer, teacher, deadhead, etc., contacted me some weeks back. She wanted to know if I might like to work with her dance company. It’s called China Cat Productions. I’ve seen maybe three of their productions. What Maggie wanted to do was to play around with the concept of Butoh, a very specific dance approach. I, of course, said, hell yeah!

Maggie showed up at Peacock Alley in downtown San Antonio with four dancers from her company. She’d also be dancing. This made five.

It was just the six of us until my dear friend Deborah showed up. She took some photos. And she was also conscripted into the video work.

What is embedded below is a short and fast edit of some of the video we all worked on in Peacock Alley. Tonight I slapped together some very minimal “music” and I did some fast cutting. I rather like that I came up with. Deborah’s the one smoking the cigarette.

Check it out!

[vimeo vimeo.com/12195272]

It’s Memorial Day weekend. And maybe this will mark that changing of the seasons when I finally decide to start turning on my little asthmatic air-conditioner–a sad window unit lacking the needed oomph to have a noticeable effect on the entire apartment.

Friday night was an event at URBAN-15, put on by Ramon Vasquez and a poetry group he works with, Writers Block. Ramon is also the head of the AIT-SCM (American Indians in Texas at the Spanish Colonial Missions), a nonprofit cultural center. The event was entitled Crossing Over: Poetry Reading and Dialogue. The event was moderated by Gabriel Velasquez, architect, activist, and mastermind of best SA art event of 2009, Una Noche de la Gloria.

The two featured poets were Ramon Vasquez and Santiago Garcia. They were working on themes of immigration and migration. There was also works on display by two important local Chicano artists, Ramon Vasquez y Sanchez (Ramon Vasquez’s father) and Raul Servin.

After Ramon and Santiago read several poems each, Gabriel asked if anyone was interested to come up and read some poetry. The ubiquitous Eduardo Garcia took to the stage. He had a drum. He was joined by a Native American flute player. Eduardo did two or three pieces. He’s a very talented man, and I love his poetry songs. Next, we had a young man from Peru. He read a lyrical poem in Spanish about the romantic beauty of the Andes. He had also brought with him an English translation–this was read by Eduardo.

The evening closed out with a discussion about issues of immigration and human migration moderated by Gabriel. It was rather spirited, and I think it opened some people’s eyes.

This reminded me of the previous AIT-SCM event at URBAN-15. That was when we watched a film. The following open discussion among the audience caused me to realize just how little knowledge people in San Antonio have about this region’s indigenous heritage.

It seems that when people are taught incomplete historical narratives it’s easy for them to slip into a xenophobic worldview. I’m very disturbed when first generation American immigrants subscribe to the absurd model of America as this beautiful walled city on the hill which is constantly being assailed by these uncouth outsiders who want to bask in our fantastic American way of life without contributing anything. Now don’t get me wrong. The American way of life can be pretty damn fine. But the same can be said of dozens of other countries.

First, we need to pull the plug on that American propaganda machine which pushes such an unreasonable and false narrative of Yankland Übber Alles. Next, we need to smooth out this xenophobic tendency amongst our populace through education. In elementary and middle school we need to assign books which show some fantastic civilizations which don’t have, as their end result, Wal-Mart, P.F. Chang’s, and AIG as their high-water achievements.

Currently I’m reading two books which I think would be perfect choices. One is The Discovery and Conquest of Mexico by Bernal Diaz del Castillo. Powerful primary source material. Prescott pulled loads of stuff from this for his huge history. True, it’s a narrative of conquest, but it is also the story of Europeans experiencing an extraordinary and, to them, alien culture. I’m also slowly making my way through Ibn Battuta: Travels in Asia and Africa 1325-1354. This is one of the great travel narratives of all time. Ibn Battuta traveled the length and breath of the Islamic world at a time when it was a robust and expanding confederation of nation-states. It reads almost like a fantasy novel because all of these extraordinary regions he visits have been so marginalized by the western interpretation of world history. Add Cabeza de Vaca, Marco Polo, and all those amazing travel narratives into the half dozen thriving African civilizations.

If this sorry and shitty state of public education must continue, please let’s make sure to place as a mandatory reading list these great historical travel narratives. If kids in the 9-11 age range were to be exposed to some of these great historical travel narratives, I’d feel a lot better for the future of our country. Because if they learn that the world was once a diverse and wonderful place (much more exciting than these current pathetic textbooks will allow), our kids might come to the obvious conclusion that the current world is also a diverse and wonderful place. Because, dammit. we want our children to take an honest look at the world–roll up their sleeves, and dive in, happy to be citizens of the world…all the while understanding that this world, as wonderful as it may be, has its problems, sure, but it had all those same problems in the past, and we continue to muddle our way through…finding ways to work together.

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I was sitting in a gallery space this morning, idly looking at paintings by a diverse group of artists. I found myself becoming very critical, seeing the majority of the work as weak and amateurish. When I slip into this sort of behavior, I try and remember to consider how my film work might appear to others. Many would consider my work weak and amateurish. And I could hardly argue too vociferously, as I’m more aware of the flaws in my work than anyone else.

Narrative films are where my strength is. I rarely need to generate anything more than the most rudimentary storyboards–I do this so I don’t forget to shoot any of the needed camera set-ups. I can usually walk into any environment and know what information (picture and sound) needs to be gathered. I understand the emotional arc of each scene, and thus where the camera should be throughout the linear path of the story. And thus there are few deviations that pop up during the editing process. I usually know how the piece is going to cut together while I’m shooting.

Things get a bit weird when I’m doing something without a strong narrative element driving the piece. With some of the experimental and dance-related pieces I’ve been working on lately, I keep trying to impose a structure, and I think this is creating problems.

I’m looking at the video I shot early today. Maggie Lasher wanted to do something with her China Cat Production. I met up with her and four other dancers at Travis Park in downtown San Antonio. We walked the two blocks to Peacock Alley, which is a great gritty urban setting, with chingos of inner city production value.

I knew right off that I should have scouted the location at various times of the day. We arrived at 11am. The sun was directly overhead. What we should have done was get there at about 5pm. My initial fear of shooting too early or too late was that we’d run up against continuity issues as the shadows shifted on the buildings and fire escapes.

The performance was in the style of the Butoh, which is principally expressionistic, more about the internal state of the dancers than the dance itself. Or so this is how I’ve come to understand this conceptional style of dance. For this piece Maggie wanted the dancers to work through movements, interactions, and behaviors as if they were cats. Many of the movements are pretty nice. The costumes, effective. But I’m dubious that the performance work in such stark lighting. I hope to change my opinion once I start playing with the footage.

Deborah dropped by for an hour or so to take some photos. I’m curious to see how they turned out.

I took a few stills. But I was pretty busy with video. Here’s a cool photo.

I had planned on doing all the shots locked down on a tripod. But it soon became apparent that what was most visually interesting was getting in close to the dancers. It’s also a more spontaneous manner of shooting, as it allows me to become, in a sense, part of the performance. It’s during these sorts of gigs that I understand certain dynamics of the actor and the dancer. It’s really not about a narcissistic ego trip (it might be for some, I guess), but there’s this moment when the ego drops away, and you’re channeling this weird collective unconscious energy. I mean there we all were, seven people behaving strangely–five were dressed in outrageous costumes; I was weaving about among the dancers with my video camera; Deborah was here and there, snapping pictures. I’m sure we could have all stripped naked and been oblivious of the street people strolling down the alley, the tourists looking our way, or the hotel workers up on the loading dock enjoying an occasional cigarette break. Part of this is that strength-in-numbers dynamic that makes group cycling events so empowering. If there are enough of you, you own that environment.

I had loads of fun. I just hope the footage comes out as cool as that weird ad hoc alley performance that the hotel workers on the loading dock were treated to.

Damn, I’m busy all of the sudden. It’s weird. I live a grossly irresponsible life, and making the funds to pay bills is always an unpredictable, dodgy affair. I got lazy the last year with several temporary gigs at a well-paying auction house in Dallas. But it seems that the vagaries of the contract laborer–the outside consultant–has bit my posterior whilst I was otherwise preoccupied, and I’m still hurting. My money from the last auction cycle finally ran out. But the universe decided to smile upon me. Again. This happens freakishly often. (Though I should point out this smile never morphs into an outright grin–the best that happens is that I get to scrape by a little bit longer….)

May was a rough month–well, still is. There’s a monthly bill which I was able to exchange in barter. That worked out well. I still haven’t delivered on the product, but I will soon. And the cool thing is that the product is a a video piece, and it’s shaping into a sweet and tight little bit of work I think I’ll feel quite proud of.

June–the wedding month–is looking good. I’ve been asked to shoot two weddings for hire. One I’m video-taping for a goodly amount of money. The other hasn’t yet been clarified. I might be doing video. Maybe photographs. And we’ve yet to talk money. Also, there is also a wedding of one of my close friends. Thankfully I’m just going as a guest. And I wouldn’t miss it for anything!

I’m also getting some payment for an editing tutorial session. This is damn cool!

A local arts non-profit is paying me for some online video presentation of the great stuff that’s being done over at their facility.

A colleague I know through C4 Workspace (it’s not just co-working, but a great networking environment) may well be hiring me for a gig.

A local PR firm / production company threw my way a lucrative one and a half day gig for an Austin company. I did the shooting this week. There is a strong possibility that this local firm will pick up the Austin company as a regular client–and I say this because, on a good day, I’m pretty fucking charming. If these two companies decide to work together, I hope it might offer me some more work. Both companies are super nice and treat their employees and clients with care and consideration.

Add to all this my final two months with my part-time temporary gig as project manager for the Josiah Youth Media Festival, and I might just be able to limp my way through June, July, and August. It’ll be tight, but I want to thank all the people who have stood beside me and helped me out.

These little scattered bits of work will allow me to continue to do my creative projects. In the months ahead I hope to do two new project in collaboration with the insanely brilliant Seme Jatib; an involved production with S.T. Shimi; and an experimental dance piece in collaboration with Maggie Lasher.

So, again, thanks everyone for helping me to underwrite my disjointed and unreasonable lifestyle.

(What follows is likely to be painfully boring to those who are not video and photo nerds.)

I’m starting to get more into shooting video with my Panasonic Lumix GH1. I’ve been having a blast shooting stills with it since I bought it back in the fall. But because the freaky AVCHD format was not playing nice with my antiquated version of Final Cut Pro, I was really not shooting much video. I did, however, shoot my Luminaria project in that HD format, but I down-converted the files into standard definition to edit. And, a couple of months back, when I ordered an adapter to allow me to attached my old Nikon lenses to this faux-DSLR Micro Four Thirds camera, I started to play around with it a bit more. I shot a practice routine of URBAN-15, yet kept things in the SD format.

However, for this current project–an on-line commercial for C4 Workspace (the cool King William co-working space out of which I office)–I decided to shoot in the 1080p 24fps AVCHD format, and cut the whole thing in iMovie. For some strange reason, iMovie just loves AVCHD. The problem is, I don’t love iMovie. I’m having to teach myself how to use this silly program. But the truth is, it’s pretty damn advanced.

I’m having a blast shooting with my old Nikkor 50mm 1:18 lens that came with my Nikon FE I bought with my hard-earned money back when I was a teen photo geek in ’77 or ’78. This snazzy Panasonic Lumix has the CCD element pushed up to the front (this is the Micro Four Thirds deal–it makes the camera smaller and lighter than a true DSLR because there is no mirror nor prism system). What this means is that old SLR lenses become myopic. They can’t managed to place a focused image on the CCD, because the light is trying to converge at a spot about an inch behind the camera’s retina (the CCD chip); therefore, I needed to buy an aftermarket adapter device. This not only allows a Nikon lens’ bayonet mount to attach to a Panasonic camera body, but this adapter also acts as a spacer, to move the attached Nikon lens about an inch further forward. The downside is that this changes some of the dynamics of the lens. For instance, my 50mm Nikkor lens has become a 100mm telephoto lens.

But, damn, this lens is so fucking fast! You say you need to shoot in low light? No sweat! You want an insanely shallow depth of focus? It will deliver! I can come in close, for a portrait, and find myself trying to decided what I want to put in focus, the frames of your glasses or the pupils of your eyes (this is hardly a detriment–I can get both in clear focus, all I need to do is close down the aperture a bit). I can also do a rack focus from one side of a coffee cup to another. And this is super cool!

I got into film/video production around 2000. Digital video was beginning to become something important. People were making feature films in this format. But the real conversation going on in classrooms and studios all over the world was about how could this new format be used to ape the look of film.

There have been three central concerns about making digital video resemble film.

1.) Shoot video at 24 frames (or fields) per second. This is how the brain has been trained to read “real” movies.

2.) Take your time to light intelligently and atmospherically. Don’t get lazy here. Three-point lighting is used so often for an important reason–it’s pretty to look at subjects lit this way.

3.) Find a way to managed a shallow depth in your focal field. We tend to translate the act of viewing moving images where the subject is in focus, but background and foreground are out of focus, as something artsy, conveying a high production value. One could argue that this sort of aesthetic of moving images isn’t fundamentally more beautiful than images where everything is in focus, but the fact that it’s hard to achieve this with even the most cutting edge prosumer grade camcorder is enough to make this sort of shooting highly desired.

Nowadays most camcorders are able to shoot at 24fps. And the whole lighting thing has always been something that any impoverished filmmaker could manage if only he or she took the time to learn some basic lighting schemes. An effective lighting kit can be had for a reasonable price if you’re creative. And if you’re not creative, please do us all a favor, and stop making films. The final element, your focal depth, has been a real pain over the years.

Oaky, you want to control your film’s focal depth. You could buy a camcorder with a removable lens. Back in the SD days, the Canon XL1 and XL2 was a great, and somewhat affordable answer. And even with HD, Canon has a camcorder to accept lens as well. The problem is that fast prime lens for these camcorders are crazy expensive to buy, and not too cheap to rent. Okay. So next we had those mini-35mm adaptors. It sounded great. Redrock and Letus. These are complex adapters which allow SLR lens to be placed on the front of your camcorders–SD or HD. You need to buy kits with adapters for lens mounts, spacer tubes, a device which holds a ground glass plate–which is either spun or vibrated (and which need a power source). And, finally, your favorite SLR lens. Oh, and don’t forget, you need a rail-system to support all this heavy shit.

Two problems with this Rube Goldberg set-up.

First, the ground glass (which is used to project the image coming in from the SLR lens) lets everything look “noisy,” this is supposed to emulate the grains of film stock. The fact is, it also looks kind of shitty. Second, you can place the fastest lens with an insanely wide aperture onto this set-up, and you’ll still be left with your camcorder’s factory-set f-stop. Now, my DVX, a camcorder with a respected performance in low light conditions, can only managed, in the best of circumstances, f2.0. These mini-35 devices are notorious light hogs–expect a loss of about two stops. Now this won’t affect the ability to manipulate the wonderful shallow focal depth, but it all make it important to bring in lights and try and to bump up the illumination. So, your expensive camcorder needs to coupled with an expensive mini-35 set-up. And then you need to buy loads of expensive lights.

Enter the answer to all our needs.

The DSLR that shoots HD video at 24fps.

What’s that you say? You don’t like the shitty lens that came with the camera? Swap it out for something cheap off eBay. An old SLR lens may be the answer.

Now you can shoot in 24fps (and HD, at that), with a shallow depth of focus, and you can shoot in such low light conditions that–trust me here–there are times when you can shoot beautiful work just using the existing light.

Just check out these two low-rez screen grabs from video I shot recently with my Nikon lens and existing light.

I’ve been having a great time shooting this little promo. I even cajoled Deborah to join me on two of the three days. I wanted her as an extra. Also, I wanted Deborah as crew. I let her frame about half the camera set-ups on the second day of shooting. I love Deborah’s photography. She’s got a great eye. Don’t get me wrong, I think I’m pretty good in the composition department. But the important thing here is that Deborah sees things differently–finds compositions where I wouldn’t see them. And she seems to favor placing the weight of the composition to the right of the frame. I favor the left. I was happy to embrace most all of her choices. It’s great working with other artists!

Here are three clips which, with further editing, will become an online video promo.

[vimeo vimeo.com/11889856]

[vimeo vimeo.com/12010554]

[vimeo vimeo.com/12010634]

Keep in mind these are rough edits, and as yet they have no audio (though I think some slipped in with one clip). Also, in one of the clips I slipped in some shots of people who didn’t know they were being shot. They look great in the scene, but, sadly, they”ll be on the cutting room floor once this piece is polished and placed on-line. But, for an example of the GH1 with a Nikon lens, I think it should stay posted on my Vimeo site…..

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I’d finally picked up some tickets for the Ballet de Monterrey. They were free, and I picked up as many as I could. I wanted two, and I gave a couple away. I still had some left over…because I just don’t know that many people who want to see dance. I had, of course, wanted to invite Deborah. But she was going with someone else. Oh, well. Seme really wanted to go. And it looked like we’d go together. But she called to say she was feeling under the weather. I was thinking of just blowing the whole thing off. But because it was the one thing I had planned for my Saturday, I decided, fuck it, I’ll just go and have fun. As I was walking to the bus stop, I met up with Deborah. Her date, it seemed had too fallen through. Well, things were looking up for me.

We rode the Blue line trolley, which took us right to the Municipal Auditorium.

Deborah had two tickets. She also had another five tickets she’s picked up to offer to friends, but she couldn’t find any takers. I had three tickets (from the five I picked up the other day). Now this wasn’t general seating. So, once we entered the auditorium, we had three sections to chose from. The first was behind a pillar. Fuck that! The second was the front row of the balcony. There was a brass railing that might pose a problem, but there was some ample leg room. We decided on this section. If things got bad, we could retreat to our third option, an entire row five rows back.

I’m not sure how many people the auditorium holds, but I’d guess about there were 4 to 5 thousand people in the audience. I saw several people I know. Drew was there with his family. Rosemary Catacalos (of Gemini Ink fame) had a plum seat up front. Arturo Almeida was there–true, he doesn’t really know me, but he’s a friend of Deborah. And Felix Padron and Gabriela Franco Palafox (but they had to be there, as they were introducing the event–he as head of OCA, she, as director of the Instituto (or, for the cognoscenti, the Instituto Cultural de Mexico)).

There were six performances, ranging the solid and tight interpretation of Tchaikovsky’s traditionalism, to two short pieces tossed off like staged music videos where sub-Andrew Lloyd Webber presentations were used to interpret Luis Miguel and Linda Ronstadt. But the real gems were two pieces which closed out the each of the two acts. These were modern pieces with multiple movements. “Zends” was my favorite. But I also was quite taken by the closing piece, “Sinergia.”

A great night of fantastic performances.

Because the Blue trolley stops running after 9pm, be decided to walk back to King William. And let me tell you, it’s a wonderful, romantic thing to walk through downtown San Antonio at night. Everyone should do it as often as possible. We have a great city here!

Monday

I was over at Bihl Haus Arts shooting some video for a little on-line project to highlight a couple of their senior citizen art projects. For those who’ve not visited Bihl Haus, it’s an historical building on the west-side. It’s on Fredericksburg Road, a bit beyond the HEB on Hildebrand Road. It’s inside the Primrose senior apartment complex. I’d already shot some interviews with some of the old folks. It was suggested I refer to them as Goldens. But that kinda gives me the creeps. Sounds a bit patronizing. Today I was shooting some video of about seven women working on a sectional, movable mural. It’s in, as I recall, five large panels. The young woman facilitating this is the artist, muralist, and teacher Adriana M. Garcia. I liked how she referred to the seniors as “elders.” It’s a term of respect and honor. And having spoken to many of these elderly artists, almost all women (perhaps this disinclination of men joining the classes is an example of generational bias), I can attest that they do deserve respect and honor. Elders it is.

Adriana is an incredibly important component when one is trying to create a coherent map of the San Antonio art scene. If you were to put aside her excellent and well-received personal art, she would still be a crucial figure with her status as lead artist and facilitator on some of the most powerful and moving murals gracing this city’s vibrant west-side neighborhoods.

It was a great privilege to interview her–Adriana has had an enormous impact on this town’s aesthetic landscape.

She got a bit awkward in front of the camera. Even confident and articulate people can be pushed off balance by the damn unflinching camera lens. Personally, I hate when it’s turned on me. But because I subject so many people to its presence, I make sure that I try my best to be useful when I’m asked to speak in it’s lifeless gaze. I’ve learned that for some people the camera is seen as a cruel beast; for others, it’s a welcomed and frisky playmate.

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Next I headed back to C4 and had some coffee and worked on some rough storyboards for my second shoot of the day.

I’m working on a short online commercial for C4 Workspace. Filmmaker José Bañuelos came up with a concept and some storyboards. I hope we’re not both working at cross-purposes on this, but as we both have conflicting schedules, I’m plunging ahead. At least today. With some of his ideas in my head I met with fellow C4 Workspace member Regina Villalobos at the home of Todd and Debbie (the creators of C4). I wanted to work with Regina because, first off, she’s very pretty, and I knew she’d be appealing on camera. But she also has this playful and optimistic spirit: I knew this would come across on camera, and I knew she’d be fun to work with.

I was, of course, correct. I met Regina at Todd and Debbie’s house and we did a quick series of shots. The concept here is that so many freelancers and self-employed types tend to work from home, or maybe they camp out in coffee shops. We want to show how both of these environments can be, at times, distracting, or in other ways counterproductive to ones productivity. The “at home” example–using Regina–shows some of the basic pit-falls of interruptions and handy means for procrastination. Phone calls, surfing the web, household chores, impromptu snacking, etc. Another scene, with another actor, will be shot Friday, I’m hoping. We’ll be in a coffee shop. The poor worker will be distracted by noisy espresso machines, loud conversations at adjacent tables, and overly friendly patrons rubber-necking at your projects and just generally trying to chat you up. The third and final scene will be in C4 Workspace, the promised land of an informal and affordable workspace where everyone’s friendly and open to collaboration, but it’s still understood that this is an environment where people work …with easy access to coffee, snacking, wifi, a printer, copy machine, conference room, and so on.

Here’s a rough assemblage of clips.

[vimeo http://vimeo.com/11889856]

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Tuesday.

I continued my outreach to local high school video and cinema programs today with a visit to St. Mary’s Hall. This is part of my job as Project Director for the Josiah Youth Media Festival. For the last three years of the festival, our contact out at SMH was Carol Parker who taught the advanced digital media classes. In those three years they produced three group projects–tight, smart, and clever claymation pieces. But the students from SMH had also created artful experimental works, solid narrative shorts, and some promising documentaries. This is the first year that Will Underwood is running the department. He’s very enthusiastic. Hell, I want him for my teacher! I was accompanied on my visit with Steve Garcia of URBAN-15. We came to speak to two of Will’s classes. In the short interlude between the two classes Will explained what he’d been working on with his classes. All I can say is I am very impressed by a young media teacher exposing his students to such brilliant and disparate work as that of Rob Schrab and Maya Deren.

There was a moment when one of Will’s students looked up from her computer where she was editing a video project. “I did it,” she said, with a shy smile. “I cut on the beat.” Will nodded. “And how did it feel?” “Awesome,” she said grinning and without the slightest hesitation.

(For those who don’t do any video editing, it might not be clear that all movies and TV shows with a strong soundtrack or music bed have been edited in such a way that every cut is made on a beat in the music. This is very obvious in music videos. And when the cuts are inelegantly placed at points between the musical beats the viewers experiences a weird (but not in a good way) sense of disconnect, and they tend to find themselves pulled out of the intended cocoon of willing-suspension-of-disbelief that a smart director, cinematographer, and team of editors have slaved to create and maintain. This is a wonderful “Ah-Ha!” moment for anyone who learns to edit. You can attend any number of lectures and workshops. Read how-to books. Watch video tutorials. But it’s not until you actually do it, on you own terms, that it finally clicks. It’s like when you make your first successful bank-shot in billiards. Or when you have to ignore your fear and go ahead and counter-intuitively lean into a turn when riding a motorcycle. “Awesome?” Fuck yeah!)

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Tonight I invited Deborah out to this month’s installment of Lupe’s Art Blend, a monthly event at the Guadalupe Theater.

There were three acts–this seems standard for the Art Blend, which has only been around for three or four months. Josie Mixon, poetry; Monessa Esquivel, performance art; Sam Villela, music.

Joise is a friend of Deborah’s. She’s been doing poetry for maybe three years, but she’s becoming quite well known. The work with which she’s most know for is bring attention to physical and sexual abuse. Tonight she presented some wonderful poetry on a wider range of topics.

Monessa is, or so I’d like to think, a friend of mine. She knows my name and meets me with a smile whenever our paths cross. I’m a huge fan of Monessa’s writing, acting, and all those quirky forays into wonderful terrain she makes which, for lack of better terminology, one must call performance art. She’s an extraordinary artist, and always manages to be glamorous (on her own terms), even when the role calls for quite the opposite. Tonight she performed a sort of theater of movement piece. She was accompanied by another woman who was anonymously shrouded throughout. (At the end of the night I talked with Monessa and learned that the other woman was none other than Adriana Garcia. That’s right. The artist who I interviewed yesterday. I love these sorts of San Antonio artist moments. Adriana not only performed with Monessa, but several of her iconic works of art were utilized in the performance, as a video projected on the back wall.) I wish I had brought my camera, because before the performance it was announced that photography was not only allowed for Monessa’s piece, it was encouraged.

The evening closed out with Sam Villela (of Sexto Sol) fronting a new band called Local Chapter. Mainly covers of great soul, funk, rock, and R & B classics. At least one original piece. Sam Villela is a truly amazing singer and keyboardist.

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Wednesday

I kinda overslept, so I had to rush to get my laundry into the washing machine and out onto the washing line; burn a DVD; make a few phone calls. And then I hurried up to the PrimaDonna Productions offices for a meeting with Nikki Young. We’re lucky that Nikki and the PDP crew will be helping to run the workshop component for the Josiah Youth Media Festival again this year. I think our brainstorming session was fruitful. We have a basic game plan to expand upon. No worries. Nikki and PDP always make it happen!

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Next I headed down to Blue Star and picked Deborah up. We were scheduled to meet with Rick Henderson. He’s a musician and composer who has studied under some of the most respected Indian Classical Music masters. His chief instrument is the sarode, though he plays many Indian and western instruments.

I met Rick at C4 Workspace. He’s friends with Todd and Debbie. When he learned that the guy sitting at the desk in the corner (me) was on the Luminaria steering committee, he came back to inquire if I had any notion as to why his music proposal for Luminaria was turned down. I said that each discipline handed the vetting differently, and he’s have to speak with the music committee. (But after becoming familiar with his amazing musicianship, I’m utterly baffled as to how he could have been denied to perform.) Using Luminaria as a segue, I told him I had helped out on Deborah’s Luminaria film, and we really would like to have some original Indian music to swap out with the pre-recorded music currently attached to the short experimental film. I had a copy of the film and played it for him. He was intrigued. I took his card. Deborah contacted him. And so today we drove up to his north-side home to discuss possibilities.

He’s a wonderful and gracious man. He treated us to coffee and we chatted. After awhile he played one of his CDs, a fusion of classical Indian music with western influences–a beautiful and dense world music sound. Next he took us into his little studio, where we removed our shoes and sat on a rug. This is the first time I’d seen a sarod. It’s a complex and artistically crafted instrument, with 17 to 19 strings, a metal fretless fingerboard, goat skin playing face, and a spherical metal resonator down toward the end of the neck. It’s a beautiful instrument with a rich and organic sound.

We played Deborah’s film quite a few times (it was burned to loop) and Rick played various ragas, adding interpretations and embellishments, traditional and otherwise. He also fired up a electronic keyboard and set some percussive elements to accompany his sarod. It was a wonderful and unexpected mid-afternoon concert.

We thanked him. Left the DVD of Deborah’s film behind for him to experiment with. And we all agreed to meet later, and continue on this collaborative path.

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Once we returned to civilization, Deborah and I stopped by for a snack at Tito’s. Now Rick certainly showed us that some wonderful creativity calls the sterile north-side home, but I always feel more comfortable back in the downtown area. And what should bolster my bias that the best art happens the closer to downtown one gets, but for me to look up and out the window and see the glamorous Annele Spector get into her car and drive down S. Alamo. Deborah and I had seen Annele just last night, with all the cool people, at the Guadalupe Theater for Lupe’s Art Blend.

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I feel I should have some photos to add in this post. But I just wasn’t taking too many photographs so far this week.

This has been a great week, carrying out activities I find to be so unique to the art and cultural scene here in San Antonio. And the week is only just beginning. Tomorrow I have a morning meeting with Proyecto Locos. In the afternoon I’m visiting a local school that uses a TriCaster, to see that wonderful piece of locally constructed production hardware being put through it’s paces. Friday I’m planning to finish off the shooting for the C4 Workspace commercial. And later I have a meeting with filmmaker Jorge Lopez. Saturday it’s the Ballet de Monterrey (if I can ever get around to picking up those free tickets–just where the fuck do you park to get to the box office at the god damn Alamodome???). And, um, Sunday…? I really think I’m supposed to be doing something Sunday. Can’t remember…. I really should be writing this stuff down. Oh, yeah, the final night of the four-part Dance for the Camera film series that Seme and I have been facilitating. We will be screening works by Seme Jatib and Erik Bosse. Don’t miss this.

And, then there’s next week. It’s also action-packed. Do not miss two important Erik Bosse events. And I’m serious here. Tuesday is the very first of the 2010 monthly San Antonio Film Forums, put on by the San Antonio Film Commission. The topic for May will be Film Festivals. I’ll be sitting on a panel as …. wait for it …. an expert! I’ll be accompanied by some other excellent people. Come and watch me stammer. And ask me some embarrassing questions…if you dare. And Wednesday, do not miss the W-I-P Creme (best of the 2009 / 2010 W-I-P season). Seme Jatib will be performing her amazing dance, “Words into the Wind,” with a video backdrop produced by … wait for it … Erik Bosse. If you missed this wonderful collaboration (of which I couldn’t be more proud of) which was staged at Jump-Start in January (or was it February?), and again during Luminaria in March, please please come out and check it out. There will be several other strong pieces of dance, theater, and performance art.

Seme and I have been busy this month hosting our Dance for the Camera film screenings at C4 Workspace. Last night we presented the second film, Amelia. The turnout could have been better, but we had representatives of the Ballet Conservatory of South Texas, as well as the San Antonio Ballet. The film was absolutely amazing! I’m so glad Seme decided to curate this series. Even though the audiences have been sadly sparse, I have been very inspired, as a filmmaker, in watching these incredible films. I only wish we’d had more filmmakers attend these screenings. Dancers and choreographers are great to have in the audience, but the complete lack of filmmakers just goes to show how staid and stodgy the San Antonio film community is.

We still have two Sundays to go. I hope we can get more people out to see these wonderful films.

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Back on Thursday I stopped by C4 Workspace. It was the monthly Actors Network SA Mixer, hosted by Michael Druck and Brian Potts.

There is always a strong turnout of actors and assorted theater and film people for these sorts of events.

I shot a quick little interview with Druck which I’ll post in a few days.

I also spent some time talking with Ranferi Salguero, the filmmaker who is working to get funding for his feature, Embracing Karma. He’s produced a powerful trailer which he hopes will help him secure funding. I served as an actor in his trailer. I was almost completely tossed on the cutting room floor. My right ear makes the trailer. So does one short sentence. This is fine by me. But I got to feel a bit special as I spent some time Thursday night talking with two other actors who also appeared in the trailer. I’m talking about real actors with some serious chops. Tom Lagleder and Venda D’Abato.

Here is a photo of the evening. Here’s Michael Druck standing with Thursday’s guest, the lovely and brilliant actress and talent agent Brenda Ambrize.

And here’s a shot with Tom looking serious and introspective.

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The following night was Friday. But not just any Friday, it was First Friday. This is the one night per month when art reins supreme in Southtown, AKA King William.

I started the evening with a visit to C4. This was a group show highlighting Cinco de Mayo. A healthy turnout! Great art, and some stellar music and poetry from the open-mic session.

Next I headed over to the Blue Star art complex to spend some time with my friend Deborah. She had allowed her photography students to show their end of semester work in her studio/gallery. There was some impressive work on the wall!

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Saturday I headed out to Enchanted Rock with my friend Seme and her husband Kevin. Seme wants to do a dance video at Enchanted Rock. We’re still in the development phase. My initial idea was to do something simple. Crew of one (me), with cast of one (Seme). I thought we could shoot in three different environments in the park. A stream; a wooded area; and a mountaintop.

There was a time when I was toying with the idea of bringing in an actor to function as a sort of abstract commentator as if Seme’s character was some undefined creature being analyzed by some sort of nature show.

But when we got up on the top of the big-ass pink granite dome of Enchanted Rock, Seme began to see all sorts of possibilities…with quite a few dancers.

We’ll see how this project evolves.

Here are some photos of Seme and Kevin and the grandeur of Enchanted Rock.

And, also, here’s a picture of Seme looking slightly glamorous. This is something I’ve learned about both actors and dancers. When they are just doing their own thing, it’s no big deal. They could be anyone. But give them the right context….and, fuck yeah!

There are days–like today–when I feel quite happy that I know a good handful of extraordinary creative individuals. I can only hope that some of them are happy to know me…..

[Hey, looks like I forgot to post this old blog.]

Saturday. May Day.

Last night I headed over to URBAN-15 to watch a free screening provided by AIT-SCM (American Indians in Texas at the Spanish Colonial Missions). I realized it had been quite some time since I last visited their offices over on Guadalupe. The lovely office manager, Diane Castro, was carrying around her adorable eight month-old baby. A new addition to her life I wasn’t aware of.

The evening began with a reception in the garden. By the seven o’clock screening time, the crowd was up to about a hundred people. And by the time the lights went up at the end, I was able to see just how many people had been arriving late. The place was packed to near capacity.

The film was “A Thousand Roads,” a forty minute film produced by the Smithsonian Institute. The director, Chris Eyre, is perhaps best known for his earlier features, “Smoke Signals,” and “Skins.” “A Thousand Roads” is a sort of vérité-esque narrative of four different contemporary Native Americans dealing with issues of traditional identity within the modern world. The cinematography is absolutely stunning. We also viewed a documentary about the making of this film.

AIT Executive Director, Ramon Juan Vasquez, and Director of Programs, Issac Cardenas, led a discussion and Q&A session afterwards. I keep forgetting how common it is for Texans NOT to know the history of the indigenous people in their own state, and more specifically, the region around San Antonio. I guess I make an unreasonable assumption that everyone in Texas has at least read Newcomb’s excellent overview, “The Indians of Texas.” (And, really, every Texan should have a copy on his or her shelves–hell, I think I have TWO…get it together, folks!). There was one guy in the audience–an African American from Chicago–who asked a few basic questions about Indians in Texas and San Antonio. Before Ramon or Isaac could reply, Henry Cisneros (who was in attendance with his wife, Councilwoman Mary Alice Cisneros) stood up and gave a nice short but comprehensive summation of the history of the Native Americans in Texas and how important they were settling this area in the pre-contact period, and how, later, they served to build this city.

The evening was closed out with AIT Director of Programs, Isaac A. Cardenas, setting up a large drum and inviting some of the young people in attendance to accompany him with their drumming on a couple of native songs.

During the screening I was sitting with my friends Deborah Keller-Rihn and Ramon Vasquez y Sanchez (the father of the AIT director). (As a parenthetical aside, we three comprise the ad-hoc art and cultural collective, Proyecto Locos.) Afterwards the three of us took a later dinner at Titos. Ramon said how he thought the best part of the night was the discussion period at the end. “People need to knows these things,” he said. Yes they do.

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May Day.

On May First, I woke up with the best of intentions. I was going to get out there and seize the day. But I switched on the computer and looked to see what new goodies had been posted on Hulu.com. That pissed away a couple of hours.

Eventually I looked at the time. It was past noon. And if I didn’t head out to Milam Park for the International Workers Day March, I’d feel like an idiot. This opportunity was not only tantamount to doffing my cap (red) as a quasi-Communist (and I’m fine with that), but it was also the place to be to show my public disdain for that unconstitutional and patently bigoted Arizona Senate Bill 1070.

So, I made a FaceBook posting, stating I was heading out to Milam Park. Now I was committed. So, I hopped on my bike and rode downtown.

I was hoping for a larger turnout. I don’t think there were more than 800 people in the park. Too bad. People missed some nice speeches and statements.

Mayor Julian Castro didn’t mince words. He was forceful, specific, and impassioned about how Arizona’s 1070 is ill-conceived and antithetical to the American spirit. The San Antonio Chief of Police, William McManus, made a short speech. Not only did he state that were Texas to adopt a similar bill, all the elements of trust built up between the police and the public would be destroyed; moreover, he echoed the words from the police chiefs of Tucson and Phoenix in that it is not the job of municipal peace keepers to enforce federal laws.

Later, as I was concentrating on a speech by an activist which was delivered entirely in Spanish, this guy walks up beside me.

“So, what is this? Some kind of protest?”

I turn around. It’s an anglo guy in his forties. I assumed him to be a tourist. And even though his dress was somewhat blue collar–baseball cap, jeans, and a denim shirt, tucked in, I could read the signs well enough to know he was a Republican.

“Something like that,” I said.

“Wish I spoke Spanish,” he said, looking toward the stage where the activist was speaking. “I guess it’s something about that Arizona law.”

“Well, this is the annual May Day workers’ march. But because of this new law in Arizona, this event has also embraced the issue.”

“So,” he said, folding his arms and looking over at me. “Where do you stand on the issue?”

“I think it’s a terrible law.”

He replied that he was all for it.

Now I should point out that he didn’t gravitate to me because I was the only other white person in the park. Maybe ten percent of the crowd was anglo.

I was tempted to explain that this was basically the annual communist march here in San Antonio, and I was here to show my support to all my brave comrades and fellow travelers, be they reds, black bloc anarchists, pinkos, or card-carrying Wobblies…but I didn’t want to feed him too much confusing information.

“The fact is,” he said. “We need these guys, these illegals. But we need to find how to make them legal. It’s a failure of the federal government.”

I was intrigued. Maybe I miss-read this guy.

“I got a business three hundred miles to the north,” he said. “And at any given moment I have thirty of these illegals working for me. They give me social security numbers. But at the end of each year, when I send in my paperwork to the IRS, they say these social security numbers are bogus. And if I use these workers for another year, I’ll have to pay their employment taxes.”

As I was trying to envision what sort of sweatshop he was running in Dallas or Fort Worth, he said something about how he thought it was wrong for illegal immigrants to protest the immigration issue. “See what I’m saying? It’s just not right.”

I tried to explain that when you fight for human rights, when you advocate for global tolerance and compassion, it doesn’t matter who you are, where you are, or what your legal status might be.

He was nodding as though he were listening to what I was saying.

“Yep. We need to get some cops in here and separate the legals from the otherwise. It’s not fair that those illegals are complaining and not paying taxes.”

I was pretty certain that no more than 5 percent of the people in the park (less than the white folk) were currently undocumented aliens, but what could I say? The guy had his mind made up. He saw a surging crowd of brown people. He assumed that they were all, like his under-paid labor back home, filthy foreigners.

I tried not to let his words drag me down. I wandered off and had a blast talking to the folks in the crowd and reading their signs.

I took some photos of the event.

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I also made a quick strafe by the Slow and Low San Antonio Bike Show at Blue Star. I took a few photos of cool bicycles.

Next I took the 20 mile bike ride from my house to Mission Espada and back. It’d been months since I undertook such a serious ride. I made pretty good time out and back, but, damn, I’m woefully out of shape.

Saturday.

After video-taping two parades over the course of a very long Saturday, I’m beat and more than a little bit dehydrated. We’ll see if all these Tecates will help to remedy the problem.

I’d already agreed to shoot the night parade–Fiesta Flambeau Parade (purported to be the largest night parade in the country)–and so I’d already steeled myself for Saturday afternoon and evening. And then, I believe it was Thursday, I got a call from someone who wanted me to video tape the King William Parade. (Thanks to Slab Cinema for the referral!)

Now I usually shoot much of the parade as it passes in front of my house. Sometimes, I do a quick cut and make like a music video of the highlights and post it on my video blog. But money was involved here, and, you know, bringing with it certain expectations. Not a half-ass video blog being expectation number one, I’d assume.

The weather reports looked clear for Saturday, so I was relieved. But for some reason I didn’t look at the prediction for Friday night. I went to bed around midnight. An hour later I woke. Thunder, loud wind, and then the clatter of hail. It grew fierce in intensity. I was actually hoping it would destroy my neighbor’s new flood lights. Ad then I became afraid it’d destroy the windshield on my truck. I walked out onto my covered porch and allowed myself to enjoy the quasi-apocalyptic storm. Once the fava bean-sized hail gave way to rain and only rain, I went back to bed.

I woke around seven o’clock. Beautiful weather. Cool but not cold. Not so humid as Friday. And a clear blue sky. There wasn’t much in my kitchen to eat, so I made a couple of avocado and cheese tacos and some peppermint tea. I really need to get to the store sometime. I reviewed what I’d need for the day.

I’d thought my biggest problem would be decided on what pair of shoes (or pairs of shoes, to use in a rotation) would best suit a bunch of walking around.

But when I checked out the spare battery to my DVX camcorder, I realized it was dead. I had it charging all day Friday. And late Saturday night the charger fell off my table and the battery slipped out. I left them there, planning to deal with the matter later, knowing full well that the battery was fully charged. Come Saturday morning I learned that not only was it not fully charged, it had no charge at all. And when I placed it back in the charger for an hour and then tried it–nothing. It was dead. Not able to hold a charge. Can this happen when a battery is dropped? Fuck!

Shoes became the lesser of my problems. Because, with the parade only minutes away I learned my one working battery was only charged to about 45 percent.

So I found myself shooting frugally.

I started off the morning shooting with Deborah. I’d thought she’d left town to visit with family, but she postponed her weekend trip by a day. She was taking stills, I was shooting video, and somewhere around Guenther and King William I lost sight of her.

I had a great time. It was the first time I’d walked the entire King William Parade route since Nikki talked me into joining the SATCO (San Antonio Theater Coalition) float. That might have been the first year I moved to King William–all I know for sure is that it was some years back, and I had a lot a fun.

Many of the people in the parade I know. But I also met some good people on the parade route. Annele Spector, for one. And, of equal importance, TJ Gonzales, Lisa Cortez Walden, and their beautiful baby daughter, Sophia. Rick and Angela from Slab Cinema. And then there was Annette. I also saw two women who I know only as FaceBook “friends” and neither recognized me. And then there was some pretty girl who shouted out, “Hi, Erik!” It was on Madison Street (I think), and I turned, smiled, and said, Hi. But I have no idea who she was. It might have been one of those out-of-context things. Anyway, if I snubbed you at the King William Parade (or any Parade), I’m sorry. I’m painfully neurotic and socially awkward.

Maybe in the week ahead I’ll post some video of the King William Parade. I just wish I had found the time to have taken some photos.

[It’s Tuesday, as I finally post this, and I have a little bit of video to embed!]

[vimeo vimeo.com/11281164]

I headed back home. That’s when I realized I really wanted some coffee. But I had none. I stuffed my video equipment in a bag and rode my bike over to C4 Workspace. C4 is situated just outside the King William Fair event grounds. Todd and Debbie thought it’s be a good idea to keep their doors open, and try and spread the good word of co-working.

It was a bit of a chore moving through my neighborhood, even on a bike. King William is stupidly crammed with humanity during the whole day of the Parade and the Fair.

I made myself a pot of coffee, and I recharged my lone camcorder battery (I’d panicked earlier, thinking that even THIS battery wouldn’t hold a charge–but I realized I’d been mistaken). So, I had a nice time talking with Todd, Debbie, and Venus, while drinking coffee and recharging my battery.

Venus was there, showing some of her art.

Next I biked home, took another shower, changed into my URBAN-15 t-shirt, stuffed my shoulder bag with various camera equipment, and rode my bike down S. Presa to the URBAN-15 Studios.

I shot video and still images of the drum and dance ensembles posing for the panorama photos that they commission every year during Fiesta to have an archive of their costumes as well as those ensemble members active during that year.

And after the photos, we waited.

After a couple of hours, the two hired buses arrived.

I’ve seen URBAN-15 preform on many occasions, but I’d never been with them as they travel to one of these major events. They pride themselves on the speed and proficiency in which they can load and unload their costumes, instruments, and equipment from the tour buses, an important quality in the parade business.

The buses dropped us off near our staging region, which was thankfully in the shade of of the highway overpass near Grayson and Broadway.

We had some time to kill before the parade began, so I wondered around, looking at the floats and costumed organizations. I also bought my one and only Fiesta food stand item this year, a very tasty gordita.

As the sun set, the dancers got into their elaborate costumes. The drummers did some warm-up playing. And then everyone set about turning on their LED lights, affixed to costumes, headgear, instruments, and just about everywhere.

And it began. We took a block of Grayson Street, past Sam’s Burger joint, and then got onto Broadway. The people who run this parade have the logistics down solid. It moved smoothly and without mishap.

I had been using a little onboard battery operated light on my camera. It is only good for maybe fifteen feet. So I was happy to see all the lights set up on Broadway as we came up on Maverick Park. I was in the middle of the URBAN-15 performers, getting some nice footage. URBAN-15’s parade leader motioned me to the outside, near to curb. He told me that this is where the TV cameras were set up, taping the parade live. And as a photo opportunity, I can understand not wanting some video dorks scurrying about, taking focus off the performances. I just wish I’d know in advance.

We then dog-legged onto Alamo Street so that the parade could pass by the Alamo. I hurried ahead so I could position my camera in such a way as ti record URBAN-15 passing the landmark building. We continued past the River Center Mall and took a right on Commerce. We headed west, to Main Plaza, City Hall, and then north on San Saba, to where the buses were waiting on us.

The dancers and drummers removed their bulky costumes and their drums and stowed everything away. We were on the buses, roll calls made, and we pulled away. It couldn’t have taken more than 7 minutes to breakdown, load up, and move out.

It was fairly intense. All very professional and well-executed. And I mean both from URBAN-15, their support crew, as well as the parade planners. Also, the police were great throughout the entire route.

My understanding is that the Flambeau Parade attracts about half a million people. And from the densely packed crowds all along the three point something mile route, I don’t doubt.

We were back at the URBAN-15 Studios on S. Presa while the crowds all along the route were still fumbling for their park-and-ride return tickets.

A long day.

Sunday I frittered the day away reading, watching movies on NetFlix, and walking the neighbor’s god damn dog. Finally, around four in the afternoon, I grabbed my camera and walked down to the bus station on S. Alamo. I’d been mailed a couple of freebie tickets to the Southwest School of Art & Craft’s Fiesta Arts Fair. As I’m incapable of finding a date to save my life, I tossed one of the tickets aside and headed out solo. The trolly took me two blocks from the SW School. I handed the woman at the gate my ticket and walked into a surging sea of humanity. One thing I’ve learned about Fiesta, if there’s a Fiesta sanctioned event, people flock like mad.

I was hoping to see some good art. I mean, the Southwest School mounts some serious shows throughout the year. I’ve seen some incredible stuff in their galleries, some from students, and other shows which are traveling through town.

But this “arts” fair is something else altogether. It’s basically a craft show, with folks who make hat racks out of driftwood, bedside lamps fashioned from Sri Lankan geodes, and earrings from toucan feathers and piranha vertebra. True there was some work by a few decent photographers. And I saw a couple of artists who could make some lovely cover art to fantasy novels. But, for the most part, I had to listen to the voice in my head wailing, “my goodness, this is all so awful!” But, really, the crowds loved everything. The art, the craft, the food & drink booths, the music, and the kids activities. Who am I to judge? I’m sure that the Southwest School looks at this as a serious fundraiser. So, fucking good for them! If this helps them to keep providing all those excellent art shows as well as all their great classes, then I can’t piss on this huge and insanely popular event.

Having said this, I have to admit I left after about twenty minutes. This means my trolly transfer was definitely still valid.

Back home, I was contemplating a nap when Catherine called. She was reminding me that URBAN-15 would be running through a dress rehearsal of their Fiesta parade performance in a couple of hours at a north-side parking lot. It sounded like fun. So I did manage a little nap, and then I drove north. I took my camera along.

When I arrived, there were people from the neighborhood out, sitting in lawn chairs, watching the show. I had brought my Lumix with my fast Nikon lens. I decided to shoot chiefly video. But here’s a still image of some of the women in their costumes.

And here’s a bit of video of what went down.

[vimeo vimeo.com/11111438]

Afterward I left, and dropped by Deborah’s place for some peppermint tea and a late night snack. Yes, I always have a wonderful time with Deborah! After a couple of hours, I made my goodbyes and headed home.

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Monday morning I was trying to decide if I really wanted some ramen noodle for breakfast, when I heard the familiar car horn of Catherine Cisneros. She short-cuts down my street (like a lot of people) on her way from home to work. Usually she gives a couple of neighborly taps on her horn as she passes by. But this time there was no doppler shift between the first beep to the second beep. I peeked out the window. She was parked across the street at Carlos Cortes’ place. I put on a pair of shoes and walked across the street. We caught up on the previous night’s URBAN-15 dress rehearsal as well as plans for the upcoming Josiah Youth Media Festival.

There are indeed times when I do love this neighborhood.

I just need to find a job so I can continue to live here.

Damn money-matters. In fact, it was my general poverty that helped make my decision to have ramen for breakfast.

I eventually made my way to C4 Workspace. I hooked up my DVX as a deck and captured to my computer all the video I had shot at Alamo Heights Night. While that was going on, I prepared the 8 DVDs for mailing to Dallas so I could make an out-of-town client happy. And while the second miniDV tape was being captured, I drove to the post office and mailed off my Dallas-bound deliverables. When I got back to C4, the video was all now captured. I opened up another Final Cut Pro file, and exported my Pedro Infante remix of my Luminaria film, “River Hoop,” so I could burn a DVD. In this variant cut, ST Shimi is dancing to a song by Pedro Infante, “La Calandria.”

I burned two DVDs. I exported the video as a full-resolution AVI file and placed it on a jump drive. I like to have a backup and a serious plan-B.

Around 7pm, I hopped on my bike and rode downtown to Main Plaza. It was a bit chilly out and I was wearing shorts. But, hell, the sun was still out, and I had done laundry and had dried my clothes on the line. Winter was over.

At Main Plaza there was a mariachi band playing Pedro Infante music. Angela and Rick had set up the Slab Cinema screen, projector, and sound system. I handed them my DVD.

As we all waited for it to get dark (there were about 20 serious Infante fans sitting in chairs outside in the plaza) the band played on. At one break, Mari Barrera came out to make some announcements. She’s the head honcha of the Main Plaza Conservancy–she programs the events at this great venue. After a few words from Mari, we were treated to a wonderful skit. Mari performed with fellow actress / performance artist Anna De Luna. They are always amazing when they work together. This was no exception. They played two Pedro Infante-obsessed woman, their rasquachismo hitting the red line of the Obsession Meter. Very entertaining.

And then my little film played.

And then the Pedro Infante film played.

It was a nice night (no sprinklers–just fountains, and we knew exactly where they were). A bit chilly on the ride home, but a lovely night in downtown.

Friday.

What a weird day!

I got up too damn early. I’d said I’d be at C4 for the Fiesta Breakfast. I heard there were gonna be breakfast tacos. And I heard right. But for me to drag ass from bed and out the door by 8:15 is practically unheard of these days.

But I had things to do, so I took a shower and headed out.

There were about a dozen people who stopped by for tacos, juice, coffee, and banter throughout the morning. I meandered back and forth from the conversation area to my desk. I was busy transferring files from my laptop to an external hard drive in preparation for the video work I was hired to do for Alamo Heights Night.

Around 10 Angela stopped by. She and Rick would be providing the projection component of our collaborative work for AHN. We needed to test her laptop with the 4G card. We loaded up the driver, and plugged in the usb device. Worked perfectly. We tested both our laptops, bridging live video shot by me and fed into my laptop via firewire, to her laptop (via the internet) so she’d be able to project the signal. It worked great.

Angela headed off to pick up a couple of pop-up tents from our friends at Grande Communications. The weather was looking a bit dodgy.

I headed over to the coffee shop in the basement at Blue Stat Arts Complex. I had a cafecito date with Seme Jatib. We caught up on each others projects. She let me read her proposal for a local arts grant. Looks great! They’d be a fool not to award it to her.

We’re moving ahead on our Dance for the Camera Series, four nights of screenings of ultra-cool dance films over the course of a month. It’s coming in May. I’ll be putting out the particulars soon.

I’m hoping we can do a very short experimental film up in the hill Country in the next few weeks.

Next I headed to C4. Angela had dropped off the tents. I loaded them into my truck, swung by my place to load up all my video equipment, and then I drove to the University of he Incarnate Word, the new location for Alamo Heights Night.

I had some problems getting in, seeing as I was never given a vendor’s pass. I was able to sweet talk my way to a parking lot close to the event, but not inside the event itself. I was pretty pissed off. But I’m flexible. I tossed the largest tent over my shoulder–I’m guessing it weighed about 70 pounds–and trundled it maybe a quarter mile to the softball field. When Angela showed up we were able to get her car up to the softball field. We set up the big inflatable screen. It was the first time I’d seen it. Very impressive! I made a few trips back to my truck to bring the rest of my gear, including another heavy-as-hell tent. As we worked setting things up there was quite a bit of sunlight. I shared my sunblock with Angela. But when the gates opened around five or five-thirty, it started to rain every so often. But we were good. The pop-up tents were already set up, and we were able to keep the delicate electronic equipment safe.

I wandered around, shooting video of the crowds visiting the food and beverage booths, kiddy rides, karaoke station, etc.

There was a point when one of the event organizers came and asked if I’d like to shoot video from atop one of these scissor lift cherry-pickers that the police were using to keep an eye on the crowds. Hell, yeah I would! I got up in there with a policeman and we went up maybe thirty feet. I got some great shots. It was perfectly stable…until I moved, even a little bit, and our platform would rock a bit, but enough to make me look for a good handle. The only thing really making me nervous was that I didn’t have the best grip on my camera. In these situations I usually have a monopod, but on recent gig, my old monopod broke (I’d more than gotten my money out of it, but it’s never a good idea to buy a piece of equipment which will receive any degree of abuse if it has any plastic anywhere on it).

When the lift got me back to the ground, I thanked the cop and headed off back to our headquarters in the softball field. Under one of our tents, I had a spare camera hooked up to my computer, automatically capturing some footage. It had finally gotten dark enough to project images on the screen. With footage captured, I removed my external hard drive and hooked it up to Angela’s computer. As she located the video file on her computer and began to play the footage onto the screen, I set up our computers for a quick on-site live streaming test. When we’d convinced ourselves it was working well, I shut down my computer, stuck it in my shoulder bag, picked up my camera and tripod and headed to the karaoke station about two hundred yards away.

The place was really packed. And I kept looking around, wondering why there wasn’t anyone at the event I recognized. I guess these patrons are all from a different world. I should point out that I did know the fellow running the karaoke outfit. He, and everyone at that booth, were gracious and more than happy for me to set up my camera and tripod, and even set my laptop on a table supporting some of their equipment.

I turned on my computer, plugged in the Clear USB WiMax USB card (thanks again, Grande!), established a connection to Clear, turned on my camera, fed its signal to my computer with a firewire cable, managed a lovely composition and a clean focus on a cute girl singing a Lady Gaga song, opened a way-cool piece of free software (thanks Michael Verdi for hipping me to this!) called QuickTime Broadcaster…and then I moused my way to the button “broadcast” and clicked and there I was, broadcasting video to the web. I walked back aways from the speakers and called Angela. She said the signal was being projected and it looked pretty good.

Things were all falling into place.

That is, until, maybe 18 minutes later, when Angela called. It seemed the sprinkler system on the softball field had come on, automatically, and drenched everything of ours. Even the stuff under the tents…because, well, those recessed spigots are everywhere.

“You can shut it off,” she said. “We’re not projecting anything anymore. The equipment is fried.”

It took me a few minutes to pack up my equipment and fight my way through the crowds. When I made it to the softball field all our stuff was moved to a side wall. Some UIW student volunteers were using one of the tents, turned on it’s side, to protect our soggy equipment and belongings from further outrage. Angela and Rick’s little girl was standing limp and wet and cold, and she was crying uncontrollably. Their little boy was over by the last remaining sprinkler that was still going–the one the UIW kids were dodging with the sideways tent. The boy was standing in the pulsating stream of water, apparently already so drenched, that it no longer mattered. I saw an orange plastic emergency cone and carried it past the UIW kids and put it on top of the sprinkler head. The water was no longer spraying. The boy began tugging at the cone. I guess he still wanted to play in the water. I let him know that if he took it off, it’d continue to splash on the inflatable screen that Rick was trying to fold up. He understood the need to protect family property, and left my cone alone.

We spoke with the sponsors of the event, the SAPD, the UIW cops, and I believe that whatever equipment is completely lost will be compensated. But the problem is, the one piece of electronics what is obviously dead, is Angela’s laptop. Computers are more than just a price tag. They have stuff on them. I’m so sorry that the Incarnate Word softball sprinklers murdered Angela’s laptop. We’ll have to assess the damage in the days ahead.

Here’s a photo of some of the swamped equipment, with Angela and Rick’s daughter looking rather shell-shocked.

What a mess.

We did our best to repack soggy stuff.

And I found myself lugging those fucking heavy tents all the way back to my truck (well, Rick helped with the little one…which I learned was the one that had wheels).

I made it home a bit before midnight. Had a couple 24 ounce Modelos. I wrote for a while, made a late night snack, walked the neighbor’s dog, and I watched half of the documentary on the band, Minutemen, “We Jam Econo,” and finally went to bed around three am.

What did I care. The only thing I had to do on Saturday was make it to the set of a promotional trailer in which I was expected to, um, act. And that was, as I recalled, three in the afternoon. I would just sleep in, right?

Oh, and if you are a fan of American punk rock music and you haven’t seen “We Jam Econo,” you gotta track it down. It is, for me, a representation of two sad missed opportunities. First was that I never made it to a Minuteman show. I’m fairly sure they came to Worcester at least once when I was living there in my late teens. The fact is, I never really got them back then. However, when I saw fIREHOSE many years later at Club Clearview in Dallas, I became an instant Mike Watt fan. That’s when I looked back and re-examined those brilliant Minutemen albums. Missed opportunity regret number two: I never got around to meeting Manuel Castillo, who died at the unthinkably young age of 40. He was the executive director of San Anto Cultural Arts (an incredible arts and cultural non-profit that continues to churn out excellent work by young people in media arts, large scale murals, and journalism. Manny was also the drummer for the SA band deeply connected to the punk scene, Snowbyrd. There was a film screening jointly sponsored by NSLIP-SA and San Anto Cultural Arts. “We Jam Econo” screened at Cafe Revolution.” This was before I was a NALIP member, but I was still made most of their events. This one, sadly, I missed.

Ah lost opportunities….

@@@@@

Saturday.

My phone rang at 8:45. That’s in the morning. The morning I was supposed to be sleeping in.

Who the fuck!?

I grabbed my phone.

It was Russ. Ah, that changed everything. A call from Russ is always a welcomed event. We don’t hang out nearly enough anymore.

He said he was fighting the downpour while on his way to North West Vista Community College.

“Oh, fuck,” I said. “I’m supposed to go there as well, but it slipped my mind.”

This is what was buried deep in my back brain when Ranferi asked me, earlier in the week, if I could make it to his shoot Saturday afternoon. I muttered to him something about how I had a weird feeling I was supposed to do something at some point on Saturday. If there was an irreconcilable conflict, I told him I’d get back to him ASAP. I never did remember.

Not until Russ called.

“I’m gonna try and haul myself out there,” I told him. “So, I’ll probably see you soon.”

As I made my way into the shower, all the abuses I had visited upon myself the previous night became apparent. And I’m not talking about drinking and staying up late. I can navigate that stuff. But it was the walking all over the UIW campus which caused blisters on my feet, and the hauling of heavy equipment which had left my shoulders, with their adjacent muscles, bruised, strained, and sore. I was pretty damn stove up, but I made it–through the deluge–to NW Vista well in time for the event. Actually, I was a bit late, but they were running somewhat behind schedule.

I walked into the theater and took a seat beside Sam Lerma. We caught up a bit on one another’s projects. The bad weather kept a lot of people away. There might have been 60 to 70 people there. I got to talk with some of the important high school film teachers: Sam, Russ, and Konise. Veronica was there, not just as the face of NALIP-SA, but because her daughter, Emileigh, had her excellent short documentary on Alex Rubio screen. Pablo Veliz was there. And I think I saw Rosalva Gonzalez, but she was working the event, shooting video, and I didn’t want to interrupt. Also I had a short chat with Maria Fernanda Chavez. She’s a student at NESA, who continues to do strong and interesting work. She was showing a music video at this event which I had not seen before. This was the one piece I was looking forward to viewing. And I was, of course, not disappointed. She’s very much in control of what she does.

But I couldn’t stick around too long. I’d looked back at my notes, and my call time wasn’t 3pm, it was 2pm.

So, I drove back home to get my script and notes. We were shooting at an old diner on the west side. Western Broiler. It’s on Old Frio Road, just off Zarzamora. The rain was insane as I headed over there. I should have made it on time, but I overshot the intersection and had to double back on Zarzamora, And with the horrible rains and that fucking long light at the five-point intersection (seven-point, if you acknowledge the railroad tracks), I didn’t make it to the cafe until 2:18.

But this was okay. The crew of four and cast of one (not yet including me) were sitting and eating lunch, waiting for the cafe to shut down.

I’d already learned that AJ Garces was offering his service and his equipment as the DP, so I wasn’t surprised to see him. There was also Ranferi–writer, director, etc. Chris, who was doing audio, lighting, and a bit of this and that. Rolando, who was there as a PA (he’s also an actor in some other scenes, but not this one). And then there was the very talented and accomplished actor who’s playing the lead. His name is Tom Lagleder. Thankfully, he’s also a very sweet guy. Ranferi decided that I (again, let me stress, a non-actor) should play the protagonist’s best friend. If he gets the funding to make the full feature, this character I played today will have maybe three fairly pivotal scenes. I guess he knows what he’s doing. But for this promotional trailer, my character only has one small scene.

I made it a point to say nothing about camera, light, audio. Things I actually know about. I was asked to come in as talent, not crew.

I did my best, and I think I gave Ranferi something he can use. At least I hope I did,

It was a lot of fun. And, damn, Tom helped to make me feel not like an imbecile. I’m learning that acting is a lot of fun. But to really get something out of it, you need to work and work and work. Whether we’re talking about taking loads of classes, doing stage work at every opportunity, or working in every film you’re asked to work in. Acting, like learning an instrument, is all about practice. It’s working a particular and, for most, an obscure muscle. Though I’m neither an actor nor am I a musician, I can attest to this crucial dynamic where you have to practice seriously and intensely until the behavior becomes natural. I think that I’m a fairly good writer and filmmaker. And my accomplishments in both have come about because of long hard hours putting down my head and doing the work.

We wrapped and I headed home. It was a long day. And even though I should have just climbed back into bed and caught up on my sleep, all I can ask is why didn’t I? And how is it that at 1 in the morning, I’m still awake? Time, well past time, to hit the sheets!