Author: Schaeffer

“Powerful, Strong, and Beautiful” is an interview driven feature story about painter Aramis Hamer. KEXP and several non-profit Seattle art funds commissioned Hamer to create a mural on the Seattle Center campus. The mural was more than 130 feet long and 8 feet tall. The video uses a mix of sit-down interview, interactive interview, and dialogue.

I really like the opening sequence

The first few frames show The Seattle Times branding over a closeup of Hamer’s hands picking up a respiratory mask.

In the next three seconds we see a series of three jump-cuts showing Hamer putting on the mask. This is cut to a minimalist soundtrack of just a few notes going up and down a scale. The music helps to seam together the action and allows the jump-cuts to be less jarring.

The next cut in the sequence is to a medium shot of Hamer’s arm shaking a can of spray paint. We hear the clean sound of the can rattling. Then a jump-cut to a close-up of the hand spraying and we hear the hiss of the can shooting out color. The hiss of the can is continuous but the video match-cuts to the same action from low-angle medium shot while crossing the axis 180 degrees. This is followed by a close up of paint being stirred in a can, and then a rack of three spray paint cans. Then a medium shot of Hamer assessing her work. That’s when we see a lower-third graphic revealing her name.

Hamer is cropped at the shoulders and her face only takes up about one third of the screen. However, The attention is drawn to her because of her expression, and the fact that the image is exposed for skin which blows out the background. This removes some detail in the background, but still illustrates the relationship between the artist and her work.

I think the intro works for two reasons. First, the action in the sequence is immediately recognizable. Hamer picks up a mask, puts it on. Shakes up a can of spray paint, sprays it. Reacts to her work. The mind is quick to fill in the missing pieces and easily follows the action. Second, the audio is smooth, not choppy. The music, although simple, provides a soundscape that unifies the visual cuts. The use of natural sound was deliberate. It fades in and out in an unobtrusive way.

At :26 there is an exceptional use of slow motion and shallow depth of field. There is a close up on Hamer’s hand as it brushes nearer and farther away from the camera through the shallow depth of field. Painting requires repetitive motion which is fairly easy to sequence.

At 2:20. there is a sequence of closeups of the wall that highlights the painting’s color and texture.

The piece resolves itself with a soundbyte of Hamer reflecting on how working on art helps fulfill her life.

This video takes full advantage of the saturated colors in Hamer’s work. The close ups of the rich acrylic paints lend themselves to emotional content of the story. However, I decided that the organization of the interview segments is what makes the piece to be so successful. The soundbytes explore the relationship between the artist and her work. The vocals sound very rich although there is some room noise and audio hiss. The music helps unify the visuals. Natural sound only used selectively. However, when natural sound was used, it supported the story and enhanced the visuals.

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.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z4HUydk0kII

In a remote Brazilian slum, men prepare a chicken dinner. A single chicken realizes he is in danger, then escapes. Divorced from sight and sound, the idea is hardly compelling. However, through deliberate editing, by splicing shots into a visual frenzy and supporting every cut with a rich soundscape, a filmmaker can craft this concept into a world that engages the viewer on the most visceral level.

My favorite opening sequence of all time is from Fernando Meirelles’ film “City of God” (2003). There are more than 50 visual cuts in the first 30 seconds. But before the audience sees a single frame, they are put on guard by sound.

The film starts with an extremely quick L-cut from a black screen. Before the viewer sees the knife, we hear the sound of metal scraping against rock. The sound is followed by a close-up of a hand pulling a blade over a whetstone. The screen cuts to black immediately after the knife exits frame. The sound finishes. From black to image to black again, the entire sequence takes less than one second. The editor repeats this sequence five times. Each time either the direction of the knife or the composition changes. The scraping creates an unsettling rhythm. The rhythm of the knife contrasts with the hectic beat of a Brazilian instrumental that fades up after the third scrape. A close up of a man playing guitar is on the screen for a fraction of a second. Title Sequence. That’s just the first 8 seconds. I’m all in. My attention is grabbed. The knife presents danger; the quick cuts propel the scene forward.

Watch the video. I could describe every sound and shot, but it is better to experience them. However, I will highlight some of the techniques at work.

The frequency of cuts increases as the first minute progresses. The editor also removes the cuts to black. This makes the sequence feel like it is building energy. Almost all of the shots in the first minute are close-ups. There are no establishing shots. This provides a lot of detail, but the quick cutting between tight shots also can make the viewer feel claustrophobic. The hand-held camera work provides energy and lends itself to the chaotic tone.

There is a great application of the Kuleshov effect as the editor cuts back and forth between the chicken’s face and the meal. The chicken wasn’t acting. A chicken’s expression doesn’t change. Sorry. No chicken has yet won an Oscar. However, through editing and the use of close-up, the audience identifies with the chicken and assumes that he is reacting to the horror he sees before him.

While researching this scene, I learned that there is a technique at work here called “elliptical editing.” This technique describes how the shots are sequenced in order to compress time. For instance, something like sharpening a knife and preparing a meal is communicated in several seconds rather several hours. I had not heard this term before, but it’s a common technique. I’ll add it to my vocabulary list.

The chicken gets escapes. The pursuers follow. The story continues. I highly recommend watching this film. One can observe great audio and visual editing throughout. The editors also use music effectivelyto create atmosphere. City of God won numerous awards, including a BAFTA for Best Editing. It was also nominated for four Academy Awards.