Author: wgomes

Whether we represent multimedia journalists with years of experience or none at all, we all seek ways to improve our production skills within the framework of non-fiction storytelling. A variety of platforms and publications can help take our work to the next level by targeting a larger or niche audience. Through my research, I found that Short of the Week and Vimeo Staff Picks together provide lessons on self-promotion through the various tools that Web 2.0 has to offer. Based on individual strengths, these tools can help us find our own answer to the following question:

While thousands of videos are uploaded every day, what can multimedia journalists do to separate themselves from the pack?

A Brief Background

“Film with a Passion” remains the slogan of the first video sharing site to support high-definition video: Vimeo.com. One of the website’s founders, Jake Lodwick, saw the opportunity for a play on words that spoke to the heart of every filmmaker: video + me. Vimeo is also an anagram of “movie”.

An article written in October 2016 discusses the new and improved Vimeo Staff Picks platform that introduced its pioneering “Staff Pick Premieres” last fall. Emily Buder, managing editor of No Film School, describes Vimeo Staff Picks as “the linchpin of the online short film community.” The “Premieres” added to “Vimeo Staff Picks” denoted a year-long online film festival that did more than elevate great vimeo videos that have already seen success in the filmmaking community.

Open Submission

In an interview with No Film School, Vimeo’s lead curator Sam Morrill said that “one of the most exciting elements of the new platform is its open submission process.” What does that mean for us? Without pushing our short non-fiction films and documentaries as potential film festival entries, now all we need are the tools of Web 2.0 (i.e. open admission) to help showcase our talent and promote our brand. Vimeo as well as contributors of Short of the Week have answered filmmakers questions about how to reach the right audience and how to get their work published.

Today, the most interesting stories aren’t being told in theaters or even on TV. They’re being told here on the web.

– Short of the Week

Well that’s good news for us. Now what next? Vimeo prides itself on the promise that Staff Picks are “handpicked by real humans.” While thousands of videos are uploaded to Vimeo every day, what can multimedia journalists do to separate themselves from the pack?

According to co-founder and managing editor of Short of the Week, Jason Sondhi, it’s all about staying relevant and interesting online. Take risks and try new things but target the appropriate audience to better the chances of your submission––to any publication––actually being published.

This brings me to tip #1:

1. Use Vimeo as a springboard to promote your work. Why Vimeo? According to Andrew Allen, co-creator and managing director of Short of the Week, Vimeo has a stronger filmmaking community than YouTube, which “may hit more viewers but Vimeo will attract the right viewers.”
2. Sondhi reminds us that first impressions count. Two things are key in a producer’s initial video presentation: thumbnail and description. Vimeo has a feature that allows users to choose a frame from any moment in their video. Grab the perfect visually captivating moment in time to encourage viewers and readers to take a chance on you and your work. As far as descriptions go, give your best elevator pitch in just a couple sentences.

   

3. Social media is your friend. It may be obvious, but I admit that keeping up is difficult. In today’s age of user-generated content and participatory culture, we must be willing and able to brand ourselves through social media outlets. More importantly, we need to stick with it. One of my participation grades in a journalism class at the University of Oregon was based on our Twitter accounts: 50% of the total grade was contingent on professionalism/relevancy (no one wants to see or hear about what you ate for dinner) and the other 50% was based on frequency (how often you are actually engaging with what’s going on in the world). Allen suggests uploading your video to Vimeo first thing Monday morning (12 a.m. EST) “to give the film a full 24 hours to rack up views and stay relevant all week.” He says that letting everyone who worked on the video in on “the game plan” (i.e. what hashtags to use, where to post and to what outlet and when, etc.), will increasing your chances of not just the quantity of views but the quality of views. Tags will helps your chances of reaching your target audience.

A variety of blog posts and interviews helped me decide what avenues are best for self-promotion (according to the multimedia experts). I believe that the tips and tricks above are most relevant for the kind of work I am producing and I hope you find their advice useful in promoting your personal style. It should be noted that this can and should be applied to all facets of branding. This information is valuable when seeking publication for everything from photo essays to long feature stories and multimedia packages. Good luck out there!

 

 

The producers behind Throw, a short film by Early Light Media, created a compelling story that gives viewers insight to the subculture of “throwing”. The film has earned multiple awards since its debut including The Directors Award at the Mountain Film Festival 2016 and the Special Jury Commendation at the 2016 Port Townsend Film Festival.

The intro to Throw utilizes a variety of techniques to propel the action and increase the audience’s emotional involvement. The sound design makes a statement on its own that helps grasp our attention from the first shot––setting the emotional tone of the story. The intro evokes a dreamy sentiment with acoustic instruments featured in the soundtrack.

The audio was instrumental in the overall feel of Throw and the work of sound designer Nick Sjostrom was fundamental to the film’s overall success.

I have an exclusive interview with Sjostrom where he discusses the process of gathering and mixing sound for Throw.

 

The Intro: Slow, steady, and loud

From (0:11) to (0:27), a lone harp plays while the camera slowly tilts up to reveal Coffin Nachtmahr––one of east Baltimore’s best “throwers” as he applies black eye makeup. “I wasn’t like all the rest of the kids,” the yo-yo star says. An abrupt loud but low-pitched sound complements a fade-to-black (0:33) that transitions viewers to the core of Nachtmahr’s story: “People pick on me for just being me,” he says.

A fade-in framing Nachtmahr’s room shows everything from science fiction figures to an empty bottle of Jagermeister. The adjacent window seems to be closed, however we hear a breezy gust of wind roll through (0:37). Nachtmahr’s talents are revealed via a descending drone shot as the music fades out and all we hear is the monologue and the intense “throwing” of the yo-yo back and forth riding along what he describes as his “security string” (1:03).

In the subsequent sequence, a high-pitched sound getting progressively louder is employed to evoke suspense; the audio demands full attention and has viewers wondering why Nachtmahr would “probably not be in the best place,” had it not been for “throwing” (1:09).

As the aerial shot continues to descend on the subject, the sound of the yo-yo slowly fades out as the high-pitched noise gets louder until it is the only audible component (1:20). An out-of-focus medium shot framing Nachtmahr throwing his yo-yo toward the camera lens “stamps” the “O” in the title that reads, “Throw.” A low piano note releases the tension evoked in the audio track by directing our attention to the title; meanwhile, the high-pitched sound effect disperses from the story. “You just throw it out of your hand and once it’s out there, you can do whatever you want to do with it,” he says.

I was lucky enough to speak with Sjostrom (who is also an ADR mixer for shows like House of Cards and Scandal) about the impressive sound design in Throw. He took time to answer some of my questions about the development of the award-winning short doc in our Q&A:

THROW from Early Light Media on Vimeo.

Q:      What did you know about the subject matter of Throw before you began working on the sound design? How did that change over time?

A:      I knew nothing.  Darren and Dave sent me a rough cut of the film just to give me an idea of what I was getting into a month or so before I had their final cut to work to.  As far as what I knew about Coffin and yoyo stuff, I knew nothing.  I’ve seen Coffin performing in Baltimore a couple of times since the film was made, but I’ve never actually met him.

Q:      Do you typically go into a project knowing what you’re looking for or are you recording several sound bites in the field and then you plan out their use in post?

A:      All the dialog in the film was recorded by Darren and Dave, I wasn’t along for the shoots.  When I got their locked picture, I was able to spot through and plan out what was usable from the production audio and what kind of sound design was needed.  I have a pretty good sense for what is in my sound effects library and what I’d need to build from scratch.

Q:      How do you decipher when to use sound effects instead of music and vice versa? At what point in the story did you employ the highest number of audio tracks at a given time and why did you chose to do so?

A:      Darren and Dave sent me the film with music that they chose already laid out in the timeline.  There were lots of spots where I edited their music choices to make them fit with the flow of the story or hit the picture edits.  Also, there are some sound effects elements that are “musical” that I added and blended with the music they provided.

As for track count, it’s roughly 30 audio tracks.

But, the workflow of this type of project can make that number not really represent the complexity of the session.  All dialog is comped to mono, there are stereo ambiences (room tones and background effects) in every scene and occasionally surround 5.1 ambiences, 5.1 hard sound effects and abstract sound effects, music is upmixed from stereo files to 5.1 and then there is further processing on the stereo and 5.1 groups.

Q:      How much of the sound in Throw is synched and how much of it is found using a sound library and mixing them in the design? In other words, can you explain your process for collecting audio and then producing the sound design in the piece?

A:      Dialog is from production (there was no ADR).  They did a great job of getting clean dialog on the shoots, and I was able to de-noise anything that would have distracted from the dialog.  Almost all other sounds you hear were created in post production.  And almost all of those come from sound effects libraries that I use every day.  At my studio, our sound effects libraries are very very deep- so the craft comes in finding and manipulating sounds to match the picture for either realism or abstraction.  Sometimes, a library just doesn’t have a sound you need.  For example, even though we have lots of skateboard sounds in the library, none of them quite lined up with the timing of Coffin’s tricks.  For that, one of my colleagues rode a skateboard outside of my studio and I ran alongside him with a microphone.  On the other hand, sometimes the real sound isn’t as convincing to the audience as an enhanced sound.  A yoyo doesn’t actually make much noise as it’s spinning, and any background noise from the city really got in the way of using the production sound for the yoyo.

I used a lot of spinning fan or turbulent air sounds filtered and manipulated to give the impression of the yoyo string.

Also, since much of the footage is in slow motion, I was able to take a lot of artistic license in creating sounds that weren’t realistic, but played up the artistry and drama of what was happening on screen.

Q:      You three did a really nice job of changing the tone of the music to change the feel within the piece. Each scene transitions to the next very organically. Are there any of these moments that stood out to you? What is your process for finding the music that fits the tone?

A:      Of course, Darren and Dave get credit for the bulk of the work on music.  Together, we did fine tune the edits to make those transitions as smooth and dramatic as possible.

“Fencing is always on my mind,” says Brooklyn-native Nzingha Prescod. “It can be hard to find motivation to do this every day.” In Nzingha, a short documentary film about the 24-year-old American female foil fencer, director Anderson Wright captures the passionate Prescod as she trains for the August 2016 Rio Olympic games. A cinematic sequence narrated by Prescod’s inner dialogue walk us through the fast-paced, high-stake competitions that made her fall in love with the sport. Viewers navigate through her mind with the use of jump cuts and high-tension audio tracks. Sound design, jump cuts, and POV shots from inside a Brooklyn subway station enhance the strategic and high-stakes nature of the sport.

NZINGHA from Anderson Wright on Vimeo.

 

After filming a series of indoor and outdoor training sessions, a POV shot cuts to Prescod’s window-view from a moving subway––where she is riding alone (2:01). “When I fence the best, I visualize it,” she says. A series of intentional jump cuts begin at this close-up profile shot (2:08) and continues for 10 seconds. Implementing these cuts in post-production speeds up the rhythm of the story while the layering of audio bites makes the viewer feel Prescod’s mind racing. This leaves the audience feeling anxious and intrigued, awaiting the next scene in Nzingha.

The sounds that accompany this stylistic back-and-forth editing set the emotional tone of the story. At approximately (2:11), a blurry wide shot of outside the Subway car cuts back to a medium shot of Prescod “thinking out loud.” Dialogue, sound effects, and music comprise the audio in this scene. The sounds from inside the train to outside in the tunnel are particularly fascinating, for they complement the context of Prescod’s inner dialogue.In a distant echoing voice, she shares her inner thoughts when fencing in real-time (2:13): “Don’t hesitate. Push. Pull. Close the distance. Take the blade. Pressure. Release.” Different elements of audio complement this fast-paced rhythm. We hear the sound of the Subway train whizzing by soon-to-be passengers from inside the tunnel and when we return to Prescod on the train, the clanking of train-tracks reverberate off the underground walls. At (2:15), the sound of screeching breaks on the tracks sets the ambience; the restriction of train movement alludes to the scene coming to a halt or coming to a head. A wide shot of two fencers in the tunnel fills the frame as the train whizzes past. This is the first and only time we see them in this scene.Twenty-three total shots from the subway scene have a duration of less than half of a second. The stylistic decision to edit these close–to–wide shots as jump cuts on an isolated train-ride with three high-tension audio tracks creates a heightened experience for viewers in a matter of seconds. We begin to feel the subject’s dedication to attention and precision as a fencer because in competition, you too have less than half of a second to think.

On February 29, 2016, the innovative production studio Media Storm published a short documentary showing drought devastation in a farming community in rural California. Andrew Michael Ellis, director of the short film Life After Water, and his team dedicated their last day of filming to capture drone footage of the central valley. Their use of long tracking shots and aerial drone footage filmed through a narrow frame heightens the cinematic feel of how climate change can make or break an entire farm and the families that inhabit them.

The most notable stylistic choice that increases the impact of Life After Water is the constant moving camera work. At (0:27), a high frame rate camera pushes-in to introduce the workers of Jesus Ramos’ farm in Terra Bella, California. These slow push-in shots fly forward––giving viewers a chance to look straight into the eyes of those affected by the drought. “Water disappears, the labor disappears,” Ramos says. “Water disappears, my farming disappears.” His voice––in a way––narrates the story, walking viewers through acres of farmland.

The film then cuts to a series of shots––from all different angles––pushing-in toward the same direction (0:41). There is a consistency that ties the shots together. An eye-level POV shot shows viewers devastation caused by the drought and at (0:47), an aerial shot depicts the acres of dried-up orchards.

As Bramos talks about his journey to “el norte” (the north) from Mexico, a fly-over shot of desert land creates a sense of reveal depicting acres and acres of lush square patches of American farmland (1:23). This long horizontal shot encompasses the vast California valley and exudes sentiments of hope and a new beginning for Bramos and his family.

At (2:04), the camera continues to be in motion; however, in this wide cinematic shot, the camera moves backwards even though the subject is coming toward us. For a few seconds, the camera tracks with Bramos riding his tractor and then the story returns to a series of aerial fly-over shots to emphasize the 140 acres of farmland Bramos maintains (2:13).

A dolly shot of the orchard at (2:52) cross-fades into another shot moving in the same direction. The producers and editors have implemented several rising shots and drone work to help viewers comprehend the capacity of land that is at stake. At (3:11), one of these wide rising shots depicts a bulldozer taking out the farm’s trees. This scene conveys economic devastation as a result of lack of water.

The editors stylistically shift gears at (5:14): instead of swooping drone shots, they provide a series of close-ups that fill the frame––showing detail in the drought devastation. Cobwebs flicker in the sun and curled up yellow leaves dangle from their branches.

A long shot slowly tilts up to reveal what’s left of the land after the bulldozing (5:46). After interviewing experts on the lack of water allocation, an overhead drone shot begins close-up and quickly pulls-out to uncover the acres of ruined land (6:03).

One of the last scenes in Life After Water amplifies the cinematic value of the non-linear documentary. Impressive handheld camera work captures an action/reaction shot that follows our subject in real time as he witnesses his actual trees being destroyed (7:27).

 

Johanna Under The Ice – NOWNESS from NOWNESS on Vimeo.

Dry suits, electric suits, and 45 minutes filming underwater at a time. It’s negative 14 degrees Fahrenheit above the frozen lake. Director Ian Derry lands in Finland to meet the world champion free diver under ice: Johanna Nordblad. Hesitant, Derry slips into the dry suit and jumps into the freezing water. “I looked around under the ice, and it was then I was hooked,” said Derry. I knew the only way to show this was from a drone.” The dynamic shots seen in Johanna Under the Ice create dramatic depth between the subject and her environment––evoking a sense of isolation and danger.

Within the first scene, the videographer uses compositional techniques to create depth between the camera and the subject, Johanna. At (0:17), a wide establishing shot of the frozen lake introduces viewers to the environment. The lines and patterns naturally existing in the trees have been framed to create depth.

A hip-level tracking shot follows Johanna trudging through the snow (0:19), which then cuts to a POV shot representing the subject’s vantage point (0:21). The third shot in this sequence provides viewers an interesting perspective (0:24). The overhead drone serves two purposes: 1) Shooting from above makes the subject seem much smaller and 2) It gives viewers a sense of the size of the location. The subject comprises a small part of the frame; surrounding trees tower over her with no one else in sight.

We see a classic cinematic shot as Johanna continues her trek through the forest. In narrative filmmaking, we refer to this shot framing Johanna as eye candy by the placement of vertical objects in the foreground (0:31). This shot shows the verticality of the trees versus the horizontal frame, which also depicts the detailed patterns of snow on each tree. The combination of positioning the camera with a slight left-to-right motion and the vertical trees in the background dramatically heighten the sense of depth in this scene.

At (0:38), a medium shot provides viewers with a wide field-of-view while also exaggerating the foreground, which depicts Johanna looking out onto the snow-covered frozen lake. This perspective illustrates the massive length and width of the lake.

After facing the subject and slowly pulling away, the camera begins tracking with her as she walks over the lake (0:50). A medium shot––using a high frame-rate camera––slightly pushes in as she treads along.

A cutaway close-up of the subject’s shoes and ice pick fills the screen briefly before cutting back to Johanna walking. A series of dynamic shots achieved by the drone break up this standard chronology and allow viewers to get into Johanna’s headspace before her dive under ice. Instead of making the journey process-driven, Derry reworks temporal space using an intercutting technique that we first see at (0:58). We begin seeing parallel editing with the future in Johanna Under the Ice. 

A high-angle composition (1:01) takes us back to the journey––just seconds before cutting to Johanna shaving a hole in the ice (1:04). While she imagines the future in her mind, the composition depicts it by jumping forward in time to her cutting a safety hole. Viewers don’t necessarily need to see Johanna cutting through ice. However, by sprinkling flashes of the process-heavy shots throughout her walk on the lake, viewers can focus on the formality of the compositions and enjoy the cinematic metaphors of Johanna under the ice.

“There is no place for fear,” Johanna says. “No place for panic.” An underwater tracking shot follows the subject swimming on her back (1:43). She faces the ice directly above her––hands gliding along the glass surface. This shot elicits the real danger in that very moment. Viewers feel anxious from witnessing a subject with no dive team or oxygen tank swim in freezing waters under ice. The camera placement and compositional techniques of Johanna Under Ice help serve the story effectively. Parallel editing with aerial drone footage and slow-moving tracking shots put viewers between real time and the future. After getting in the ice queen’s headspace, we pose the obvious unanswered question, will our subject come to the surface when the time comes?