If someone assigned me a story about a ninety year old man making bread and mailing it to his kids, my day would be ruined. My next question is “how do I get out of this story?” When it comes to news sense, I have what is colloquially referred to as a lizard brain. I like stories that are immediately emotive or conflict driven. That being said, it’s good for me to watch a video essay like The Boston Globe’s “The Staff of Life and Love” so I can be reminded that even simple stories still have impact.
Writer Yvonne Abraham and videographer Scott LaPierre, through expert storytelling, reveal what the piece is really about. The story is about family, tradition, a man in the twilight of his life maintaining a personal connection in spite of geographic separation. This is an interview driven piece that profiles Sheldon Kriegel, a man who makes Challah, a traditional Jewish bread, then mails it to his children and grandchildren every week.
The video uses close-ups extensively. LaPierre starts with an close-up on Kriegel’s eyes as he is making the bread. Then it cuts to a photograph of Kriegel as a younger man. It’s a visual metaphor that, in the first few seconds, already ties the present to the past.
The sequence is repeated by showing Kriegel’s son as a child and and then as an adult at 00:26.
The next few shots show detail that adds interest to the story.
LaPierre uses close-up shots of Kriegel’s expressions as he makes the bread. I feel that the short focal distance to the subject augments the emotional closeness the viewer experiences. I appreciate the shallow depth present in several compositions. On the one hand it keeps the focus on the subject – literally. It also lends a cinematic quality to the piece.
Having Kriegel be silent as he makes the bread was a good choice. If I shot this piece, I would have been tempted to do an interactive interview with Kriegel, perhaps prompting him explain his feelings as he made the bread. However, I think it works better with the interview dubbed in later. Also, it allows the editor to move forward in the baking process without sequencing interactive soundbytes. In relation to the story, I think Kriegel’s silence relates that he is isolated from his family. Furthermore, it makes it appear as if Kriegel is making the food for his relatives rather than the photographer who is filming, or the viewer who is watching. Kriegel doesn’t actually look at the camera until 2:35.
I appreciate that this video is in black-and-white. Novice photographers sometimes overuse black-and-white as a shortcut to elevate the their projects. I say that just because someone desaturates a clip, doesn’t mean it belongs in a museum. In my opinion, black-and-white works best when it abstracts a subject, especially when that subject is mundane. It allows the viewer to re-engage with a setting by simplifying subjects to light, shadow, and texture. Large format art photographer Joel Sternfeld is quoted as saying, “Looking at a black and white photograph, you are already looking at a strange world.” Kriegel’s kitchen is a great opportunity for abstraction. Furthermore, Kriegel’s world is bathed in soft light, with highlight, midtones, and darks balanced delicately.
I appreciate that there is no music in the video. I think it would have distracted viewers from Kiegel’s aged voice. The, for the most part the sound cuts with the video. Natural sound elements sometimes punctuate Kiegel’s soundbytes such at the egg cracking at 00:45.
The close-ups and detail shots allow the editor to compress time. The visuals cut easily between action while avoiding jump-cuts by utilizing close-ups extensively.
Watching this video reminds me that journalists can assemble words and pictures from the most domestic setting into a meaningful narrative. It just requires a little more thought and a few deliberate choices to communicate the heart of the story to the viewer.
I love this kind of ‘regular life’ story, and think it poses a great challenge to the storyteller to bring it to life and make it meaningful to a broad audience. Many interesting editorial choices were made here and I appreciate your analysis, Schaffer, especially around the decision not to have an active interview. Overall, I think the tone of the piece is very neutral and pragmatic. I’d like to see what sound design or music might do here, to heighten the emotion of the piece. The moment that elevated the story for me is at the end, when the postal workers comment on how they appreciate the smell of the bread each week.
Schaeffer, I think you nailed it. This piece is simply about tradition. Sheldon isn’t your average 90-year-old; he’s ambitious about life. The best sound bite LaPierre captured from Sheldon was at the post office: “In another 10 years, that will be enough. Time is valuable and when I’m 100, I might have other things I want to do with my time.” Love it. As far as mise en scène in the piece goes, I agree with you in that black and white reflects the themes of family and tradition in this older gentleman’s home. The same goes for the piece’s audio; background music and too much color would distract from this message. A particular sequence I enjoyed was at [2:14] as Sheldon says, “it gives shape and form and warmth to your life.” Viewers then see detailed close ups of the bread’s characteristics: it’s curvy body and a doughy texture from which we see steam rise. This sequence is somewhat poetic in nature. Thank you for sharing!
I would have liked to have seen greater pacing in this story. He’s older. Making bread is something that takes time, as does building traditions. I don’t love the black and white because I’d like to see that golden brown challah coming out of the oven and getting packaged up, but overall I like this piece for its simplicity.