Why I Make Art: A Personal Manifesto

By Justin Joseph Hall

“Artist” is such a vague term I usually don’t like to use it. Maybe that’s also an aversion I have from growing up in the Midwest where artists are often scorned or mocked as high-society.  First of all, an artist has nothing to do with class or the amount of formal education someone has.  My definition of making meaningful art is perfecting details of a piece of artwork.  This means putting in the time to place every detail in the way that is “perfect” to the artist, and the artist alone.  A skeptic may say that certain steps in the creative process are not important, but anything that leads me to a better way to communicate or express through the language of my art clearly is important to what we call the artist’s process.

To me, an artist is someone who can speak towards a subject in a new light using context and setting. They can express complex or emotional ideas through their individual medium because they are often difficult to express with language in general conversation.  By speaking through a medium, I am able to release what I want to say in a different context that I define as an artist. 

Creating an artwork is a form of communication that can be larger than daily dialogue.  It brings people together to have an emotional experience that the artwork evokes within the audience.  The individual audience members can take an emotional cue from the artwork based off their own life experience.

Freedom - Photo by Justin Joseph Hall

Freedom - Photo by Justin Joseph Hall

When I am creating artwork such as a film, if I am not precise in my decisions then the artwork runs the risk of saying nothing.  Or worse, saying something with an unintended impact.

The creation of great art is an understanding between many human beings as another form of language.  It is developing a unique language through an artist’s process for ideas and emotions that words cannot express.

I’m not advocating that every detail in every piece of art is planned. It is not.  Some of the variability is actually controlling what is random.  Just take Jackson Pollock.  He used gravity and physics of splashing paint part of his expression because he thought it was meaningful.  He controlled how the paint was flung, but the tiny details he left to physics.  Jackson Pollock let us see physics in a new way expressed through paint.

Now I’m not a painter, I am a director.  How does this variability apply to directors?  Often, as a director, the medium we help deliver our story and our message is through actors and crew.  These people are usually very intelligent and skilled.  I like to give the people I’m working with room to express what they believe the story is and be open to their interpretations.  This way I’m guiding a cinematographer or an actress in a direction with boundaries.   In this way, like Pollock gave freedom to the paint falling by releasing it at a certain point in the air, a director has many opportunities for a creative team to be released into their work in an organized manner.

The details of the world an artist creates is important, and so is being specific about which details to focus on.  One of my biggest lessons was a mistake I made editing a short comedy.  I left a lot of jokes in a scene because I thought the actor was hilarious.  However, I left in too much of his individual performance and didn’t pay attention to the flow of the story.  There are so many jokes in a row that the audience only laughs at half of them.  On top of that, they laugh over some of the jokes. This is distracting and makes the film feel too long.  Because I left in too much material it made the movie worse even though I consider the material I left in as great.

This can happen in any genre. For example a horror movie can make the mistake of not leaving silent time for sound design and music that is integral to scare people. In a documentary, a mistake would be packing in too many facts without giving the audience time to process.

These details are hard to spot and take time and practice to notice.  One has to change their mindset from minute details such as the individual edit, to a larger detail of the big picture of the story.  This idea is applied to film here, but can be applied to other mediums. Imagine making the fingertips perfect on the Venus de Milo and in the end realizing the statue is better without any of the arms or hands.  Or recording a 2 minute amazing guitar solo but having to cut it out because it doesn’t add to the melancholy feeling you are trying to express in the rest of the song.

It’s important not to compromise on the core expression of artwork over small details; but that doesn’t mean an artist can’t collaborate.  Just as McCartney and Lennon collaborated with each other, they had disputes, but they found how to focus on what’s important to each individual artist.  It is important to work with other artists who don’t compromise the main expression in one’s art.  Sometimes it takes time to find what you are trying to express, but the best collaborations help enhance the communication at the core of the artwork.

Brooklyn in Manhattan - Photo by Justin Joseph Hall

Brooklyn in Manhattan - Photo by Justin Joseph Hall

It’s important to work with people who do not impede your message. Don’t compromise with those who pay you to create to sacrifice what you believe in.  If you do, you are compromised as an artist as long as you participate in suppressing your beliefs in exchange for money.  I think this is important to keep in mind.  If you care more about money, no worries, then you are a commercial technician for someone else, which is totally fine and respectable in itself, but it is not creating art.

Money is always an important consideration and you need to pay the bills, but I’d suggest if a collaboration isn’t helping you become better at expressing what you want to express, you will be replaceable because you’re not refining what is of value for you.  So if you have to take a job that doesn’t go along with your ideals due to money conflicts, make sure you’re being more adequately compensated for your time so you can have enough money to work towards not needing to make that kind of compromise in the future.

I could not find a job for about 2 years and only found part-time work for 5 years in a row in the field I wanted to be in: editing film.  But I held to my ideals of quality and preservation for the future when finishing films.  Everyone told me over and over the quality didn’t matter and no one cares, but I did.  I took the time to make everything right and you know who cared in the end?  Companies who were making incredible films, HBO, PBS, and so many other networks.  Taking the time to perfect my personal workflow was worthwhile.

For example, I believe in diversity of perspectives in problem solving as well as preserving our environment.  I had to be honest in an interview when applying for a documentary that had to do with bringing a power plant to a nearby neighborhood.  The project ended up being a propaganda piece and it would not have been helpful to me or anyone if I took that job for the money.  Instead, I honed in on my craft and I began working with Downtown Community Television, a documentary company that believes in diversity and social change.  We’re a great match, but it took time to find a collaborator that didn’t conflict with my core beliefs in my work. 

The final touches in a project make it meaningful.  Those final touches are sometimes the hardest part of a project to finish. For example, whenever I edit a scene I work on individual cuts 10-50 times in an edit if I’m trying to make a difficult cut smooth.  This is so I watch each frame and scene enough to process how everything emotionally relates to one another.  This is important because emotions are fluid and in storytelling, we often take the audience for an emotional ride, but that means gradual changes.  Small distractions can take you out of that emotional ride and bring you back into reality.  An example could be a hand that’s out of place in one shot to the next, or blinking eyes not matching within a scene.  Adjusting these tiny details on each and every cut makes sure the audience is not distracted by something being “off” that takes them away from the story.

This may not pay off in the short term, but in my experience, concentrating on my own voice, uniqueness and expression paid off in the long run.  Because now I have concrete examples of expression that is unique to me and my style.  This enabled me to offer that skill to anyone that I work for and has found me more collaborators to work with and create final products that make me proud to be an artist.

Security - Models Isabel Restrepo & Lauren Thompson, photo by Justin Joseph Hall

Security - Models Isabel Restrepo & Lauren Thompson, photo by Justin Joseph Hall

How Wearing Many Hats Led Me to the Director’s Chair

By Cat Tassini

Photo by Albany Capture on Unsplash

“If you can think of literally anything else to do with your life, go do that.” This was the mantra that I heard many times during my first year of acting training. “You have to be obsessed with your character,” was another slogan, this time from my contemporary scene study teacher. As a nervous freshman in college, I took these words literally. Growing up, I had been enthusiastic about visual art, dance, theater, filmmaking, writing, music, and sports, but now I turned with laser-like focus to acting. Any time another desire entered my head, I felt agonizingly conflicted. I had auditioned and secured my place in the second most competitive undergraduate theater program in the country. Was I going to blow this opportunity by being unfocused and undisciplined? I was determined to give it my best shot. But I couldn’t keep all of my doubts — or passions — from creeping in.

I stuck it out for the two consecutive years at a professional acting studio required to graduate. However, once I had that under my belt I looked into other opportunities for learning. I ended up interning at a multidisciplinary art space in Brooklyn for credit. That was my introduction to the North Brooklyn DIY music and art scene, which indelibly molded my artistic perspective. It’s where I truly came of age. It felt like I had wandered into a creative wonderland—inspired, intimidated, and elated that I finally found a place that felt right. I even put up my own theater piece there, composing it with my theater troupe, and doing the sound, costume, and set design myself. It felt like I had arrived. 

My time interning opened up my mind and I felt confident enough to keep exploring. By graduation, I had designed costumes for a short film, taken art direction and set design classes, studied directing and producing, interned for a special event production company, stage-managed a show, attained a minor in art history, studied abroad, and put up multiple original theater pieces. 

Photo by Isi Parente on Unsplash

Photo by Isi Parente on Unsplash

However, once the anticlimactic reality of postgraduate life set in, I looked back on my many experiences and wondered whether they actually added up to anything cohesive and meaningful. It didn’t help that I graduated into the 2010 job market. It was easy to feel like all the effort I’d put into my undergraduate education didn’t amount to much of anything in the real world. As I wandered through postcollegiate disorientation, hopping from city to city, and trying out different jobs in and out of the entertainment industry, I felt weighed down by nagging doubts. Would I ever be good enough at anything if I couldn’t concentrate on one thing? Would I ever be able to support myself without a “day job?” Would I ever be able to get a day job outside of the service industry? I felt restless, but I still felt guilty about it.

These doubts still haunt me, but less so than when I was a bit younger and greener. I now have the knowledge and perspective of someone who has written, directed, and edited a body of work, screened short films at festivals and racked up years of experience working in film, television, and event production. What I didn’t realize before is that it’s common to bounce from department to department or take time off from one career to pursue another.  It is also totally okay to take time off from filmmaking because you need to work a day job, care for a child or sick loved one, or take care of your own health. In a field as unstable and full of financial barriers as filmmaking, changes are inevitable. Managing your passion for your craft with real-world demands is a balancing act. As circumstances and priorities change, a career will inevitably go through any number of evolutions.

Multimedia is a constantly changing field, and one must make a conscious effort to keep up throughout one’s career. Along with that learning comes paying for classes, trading something you already know and are adept at, and learning on the job. If you’re trying to work your way up starting as a production assistant, it’s great to have multiple skillsets since you never know quite what you’ll end up doing. It is also valuable to have lots of skills in your back pocket to offer in exchange for someone else teaching you the skills you lack. A mentor of mine once described trading art direction work for an After Effects lesson. Finally, there is the practical reality that until you are locked into a union, if that’s the path you choose, it can be easier to get freelance work when there are more roles you can fill.

Photo by Julio Rionaldo on Unsplash

Now that I am directing my first feature, I can see how my varied experience has prepared me for this. It’s essential to be able to wear multiple hats in independent filmmaking. On a typical day, when working on my own work and freelance projects, I utilize some combination of the following: social media, graphic design, grant writing, crowdfunding, blogging, research, correspondence, scheduling, and video editing. These involve wildly different yet interconnected skill sets. On set, I’ve worked in the following departments: camera, sound, art, locations, wardrobe, makeup, transportation, and of course good ol’ fashioned general production assistance (PA). Having many tools in your toolbelt and a spirit of adventure makes you an asset to any production. 

If there’s one thing I could tell my younger filmmaker self, I would say: don’t be afraid of having multiple interests. Embrace it! And don’t worry so much. Pursue knowledge for the pure love of learning, don’t try to force yourself into something because of its perceived market value. Something that you’re not sure about now could end up being one of your greatest assets in the future. “Follow your bliss,” as Joseph Campbell would say, and try not to be too preoccupied with how it will all turn out. Life doesn’t follow a linear path and that’s okay. Real life isn’t compressed into two hours and doesn’t have to follow the audience’s expectations for continuity of logic. Real life is messy and strange and beautiful in its own way.

Follow Cat Tassini on Instagram @disco_nap_art and check out her website. Follow her current project, a feature-length documentary about Trish Keenan, the visionary creative force behind the English experimental band Broadcast, on Instagram @echos_answer, Facebook, and Youtube. 

If there are questions you want to be answered in a blog post, let us know at info@fourwindfilms.com or visit our website. Also, we work with a large, diverse community of crew and artists working in most aspects of the filmmaking process and are always happy to help make connections. And we are always building our community! Send us your work for review or feedback.

I’m a Film Composer, and I Want Every Emerging Director to Read This

By Totemworlds

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Every serious filmmaker knows that in movies, what we hear is just as important as what we see. Without music, our favorite films would lose their charm and emotional weight…even our characters would lose a bit of their essence. Thankfully, film composers exist, even though they’re always hiding in their studios, and their job is to unravel all feelings in your film, documentary, you name it!

As a filmmaker, you need to find a film composer who won’t just fill in the silence, but actually support your story in a meaningful way. I have working experience as a film composer and I wrote this short guide for filmmakers and enthusiasts with key tips on how to conceptualize and articulate musical ideas with their composers. Clear and effective communication between director and composer will ensure your film is everything you want it to be, so let’s get started!

Choosing the right composer

All musicians have unique backgrounds, it’s what defines their style and how they sound. Composers are no different, so keep your options open and take your time to listen to their previous work. Find a match for the sound you think would be best for your film. What style of music would be best? Does your budget allow for an orchestral sound, a small ensemble, or piano only? If you’re on a budget, composers can create what are called Orchestral Mock-ups. They’re a significantly cheaper alternative to recording a real orchestra while still sounding convincing. But does your film need music that will stand out or play more of a supportive role? Find a composer who will be versatile enough to do both.

Communicating With Your Composer

Spotting happens when a composer and/or a director decide upon where to (and not to) put music in the film. You’ll probably want to share your ideas right away, but I highly recommend you let the composer speak first. Their experience in the area and their experience in seeing your film for the first time could lead them to bring new ideas to the table. But if they ask for temp tracks then definitely provide them. 

Temp tracks are songs that directors use temporarily on their film to give composers an idea of how they want the music to sound. Most composers love them, but some don’t. Just ask.

Don’t use musical terms to describe what you want

A composer’s job is to translate emotional terms into music, so don’t try to throw in musical terms at them, instead, speak to them in emotional terms. Talk in terms of intensity, and your composer will modify the instrumentation, mixing, and dynamics to match what you want. Talk in terms of movement, and your composer can use musical techniques to keep the momentum going, or make space for quiet time. You should also be clear if you want the music to sound close or play more of a supportive role.

Why (and when) to add a musical cue

Consider the following reasons to add music at any given moment of your film:

  • As a narrative tool: take music into consideration right from the start, as you write the script, this opens up new and exciting possibilities. Some of the most memorable moments in cinema rely on music to work. Some examples include a 2-note motif which foreshadows the shark’s arrival in Jaws; an unmistakable tune which plays in Kill Bill every time the protagonist sees her enemies; and who can forget the string players and their last repertoire near the end of Titanic, filling our hearts with empathy towards everyone on that sinking ship.

    A motif is a recurring musical phrase.

Extrait de Titanic - James Cameron

  • To set the mood: music is just as important as color-grading and lighting for setting specific moods. And just like a colorist or lighting expert, a film composer will use every bit of information you give them to craft the right sound for a scene. Be clear about the mood you want to convey and include all the little details that make your scene unique. Music is so versatile that composers have a HUGE array of musical devices to work with, so having a pool of information to derive ideas from would help them focus their creativity.

Here’s is a very entertaining video showing the power of music over film.

  • To accompany our characters: in fiction, it is common practice for composers to assign musical ideas to any character, this is called a leitmotif; think of Darth Vader’s iconic theme in Star Wars and how menacing it makes him appear. It works for non-fiction too. A news anchor, for example, is greatly benefited from the show’s epic and suspenseful opening song that legitimizes not just the show but also its host.

  • To simulate the passing of time: music can be used to keep the momentum going, making sure there are no stagnant moments in your film. Any scene can be made suspenseful using music alone, and more excitement is always welcome. You can also use music as a way to transition to a new scene.

In conclusion

When incorporating a composer give them space to share their ideas, but be clear about how you want the audience to experience specific characters and moments. Work with the composer to figure out how best to communicate what you want, whether that’s by sharing examples of other films or music, details about your story and characters, or describing a feeling.

Follow Totemworld’s work on Youtube and Facebook.

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If there are other questions you want to be answered in a blog post, let us know at info@fourwindfilms.com. In addition, we work with a large, diverse community of crew and artists working in most aspects of the filmmaking process and are always happy to help make connections. And of course, we are always building our community! Send us your work for review or feedback.