If you want to get involved at VCC with our various video endeavors, my man Isaac Stambaugh is teaching a course called Digital Filmmaking 101. It starts this Wednesday and registration is filling up. So click the above link and sign up today. Here's a description.
The first step into joining the Vineyard's plunge into filmmaking. This course will introduce you to the production process, improve your entry-level skills, and get you ready (if you choose) to join the crew of our next digital feature film. If you're a student thinking about studying media at the collegiate level, this is a rare opportunity to get a head start through hands-on experience.
Sorry Cincinnati, I love you, like a lot, but I hate your football team. Always have. I went last night to the pre-season game and noticed that there are a lot of positives (+) and negatives (-) about the Bengals. Here's a short list.
- The color scheme. Combining orange and black in fashion is like combining poison and pre-schoolers. They don't go together. They're toxic together. Those mothers that are mad about DD need to get mad about the Cincinnati TigerPumpkins. The uniforms and the inspired fashion disasters fans feel compelled to wear are a tragic crime against our retinas
+ If you're one of those weirdees who love Halloween then your beloved holiday comes around every Sunday. Lucky you. Break out the dry ice and jump out of coffins you freaks.
- Mike Brown. The guy bamboozles everyone. The city and NFL lets him run around doing whatever he wants cuz his grandpa (?) invented face masks. Letting Mike Brown run a football team would be like letting a poisoned pre-schooler be your shrimp boat captain.
+ Lots of cops earn lots of overtime. I imagine these cops have families. I bet these families like coney dogs. Overtime buys coney dogs. The Bengals are feeding cop families coney dogs. They're practically the Make-A-Wish Foundation.
- Bengals fans. They assault all five of your senses. 1. sight- see the above point about orange and black fashion. 2. hearing- they relentlessly scream inane things like Who Dey. 3. taste- i'm not sure how they offend this sense but they do. 4. touch- they spill beer on each other like it's part of the game. 5. smell- they reek of beer, menthol cigarettes, and goetta.
+ Each game the fans adopt Milwaukee as their sister city by buying/drinking enough Miller Lite to get 500 whales sloppy drunk.
- The parking lot trash cans the stadium get bombed by 500 million Miller Lite cans and throw up all over the sidewalks.
+ Entrepreneurial homeless men and women have the chance to turn a bag full of cans into $0.37.
- Grown men in face paint. Women wearing furry tiger tails from their jean skirts.
+ Chad Ochocinco. He's Cincinnati's Dennis Rodman sans the transgender leanings. Fans try to hate them but they wanna marry him.
- That one time a few years back when the TigerPumpkins made the playoffs. Fans turned into crazy people. It was like a bunch of blind people could finally see and they ran around talking like they've been watching sunsets for their whole life. Figure that metaphor out.
+ Lots of short buses have been recycled into PartyPumpkins. That's good on a number of levels.
- I saw one broke down on the highway as I drove to work today. It was like seeing a moustachioed-man in a Members Only jacket strolling the playground. There's a place where it's ok to be mustachioed and rocking exclusive windbreakers. A playground is not that place. Same with PartyPumpkins. They're pretty sweet when they're blasting Guns N' Roses and grilling sausages among other Pumpkins down by the stadium. But when they're all alone on the highway miles away from their friends, it's just sad. I want to say it's creepy in order to continue my metaphor, but that would be forced. Much like this entire post. Bottom line is I hate the Bengals.
A pastor friend wrote me asking for creative ideas so I dug into the archives and foud a piece I wrote awhile ago. If you're in need of a meditative moment and you struggle with some level of perfectionism- give this a try. Listen to the song as you slowly read the text. Maybe something'll happen. Maybe not. Either way it's a pretty decent song.
Release... take a deep breath in... and release... feels good doesn't it? try closing your eyes for a few seconds and just listen to the piano...
what if we let go? ...stopped trying to be perfect ...stopped chasing something that doesn't exist. because the truth is... we will never look "perfect" our job will never be "perfect" our friends and family will never act "perfectly" what does that even mean? "perfect"...? the perfect house, spouse, kids, life... they don't exist. relationships are not perfect... we know that in theory... yet we want them to be… and we get frustrated when they aren't. we hold grudges for others' imperfections... for their mistakes. we carry with us disappointments... we hold onto the let downs caused by imperfections. we carry regret... for not being the perfect friend for being the imperfect spouse for demanding from our kids what we can't provide... perfection. we carry guilt... for our imperfect faith... our imperfect past... what if you let the regret go... release... take a deep breath in... and release... God doesn't want your perfection... He doesn't demand what you cannot give. He just wants your faith... your trust... your belief that Jesus' sacrifice makes you perfect. perfectly broken... perfectly human... perfectly forgiven... perfectly loved... by the only One who provides what we all desire... ...Perfection.
Bear shaped sleeping bag. A must have for sleeping in bear-infested woods. They're horrible monsters, but bears have great respect for sleepytimes and refuse to interrupt a good bear nap. I hear. If you try it let me know how it works out.
PIANO MAN: Good. Busy. I think I've played out every night this month but one.
PAUL: That's great. I am so busy too. So busy.
PIANO MAN: Good. Busy bird gets the worm, right?
PAUL: I think it's early bird gets the worm.
PIANO MAN: I know. I was making a joke.
PAUL: Oh. So yeah, pretty much all I do is work. Work work work.
PIANO MAN: Sold any doozies lately?
PAUL: No. I'm still shopping it around.
PIANO MAN: Oh... Is the market good or bad these days? I don't pay attention.
PAUL: I mean, like always, it's hard for first time authors.
PIANO MAN: Realtors.
PAUL: I'm sorry?
PIANO MAN: You accidentally said author.
PAUL: That's what I said.
PIANO MAN: Realtor?
PAUL: Author.
PIANO MAN: ....
PAUL: ....
PIANO MAN: Who's on first?
PAUL: What?
PIANO MAN: Never mind. Paul, unless I'm going crazy, I swear you've been in real estate for as long as I've known you.
PAUL: Real estate just pays the bills. I'm a writer. Well, a novelist, I should say.
PIANO MAN: I had no idea.
PAUL: I just finished my first.
PIANO MAN: Congrats.
PAUL: Thanks. Yeah, so I'm in the process of sending query letters right now.
PIANO MAN: I see.
PAUL: I send at least ten a night to publishers, other novelists who may know publishers, rich people that my parents know who may want to get into publishing.
PIANO MAN: Is that...how it works?
PAUL: Like I said, it's tough for unpublished authors. But I figure I got a great back story, you know? Realtor by day, author by night. That's the kind of crap Barbara Walters eats up.
PIANO MAN: Is it?
PAUL: I think.
PIANO MAN: Hmmmm.
PAUL: You've seen her, right?
PIANO MAN: Yeah...
PAUL: 20/20.
PIANO MAN: Yeah. I've seen it.
PAUL: Great show.
PIANO MAN: I don't.....really...
PAUL: I'm gonna go say hi to Davey.
PIANO MAN: I'll see you around, Paul. Good luck with the letters.
JOHN: The ladies'll be calling you ole' hairy balls after a few a these. Am I right?
PIANO MAN: I'm... not really sure...
JOHN: Wanna smoke?
PIANO MAN: Not right now. Maybe after the set.
JOHN: You ever had these? Black and Milds?
PIANO MAN: No.
JOHN: It's what the blacks smoke.
PIANO MAN: John!
JOHN: Yeah.
PIANO MAN: You can't...that's pretty racist to say.
JOHN: That black people smoke these?
PIANO MAN: Yes!
JOHN: It's not racist if it's true. They love them. Are they not allowed to love them?
PIANO MAN: Would you....
JOHN: Maybe you're the racist, Bill.
PIANO MAN: I am not a
JOHN: I'm kidding, Bill. Settle down. I'm not saying anything out of line. My neighbors are black. You know that. We hang out. They got me hooked on these little cigarellos, these little...plastic capped smoke sticks. End of story. Nobody's a racist. Gulp that boilermaker down and relax a little. You're all pent up.
PIANO MAN: I'm not pent up.
JOHN: You're pent up. Look at your shoulders right now. They're all scrunched up like a...like a clogged piston. You're not a clogged piston, Bill, you're a piano man who needs unscrunch those shoulders and tickle those ivories like a loosey goosey, well oiled machine. Drink your oil, Bill.
PIANO MAN: You're ridiculous.
JOHN: Drink your oil!
PIANO MAN: Alright. Geez.
JOHN: I wish I had your guts, Bill.
PIANO MAN: What are you talking about?
JOHN: You're out there doing what you love.
PIANO MAN: You don't love this? I thought this was...your place, your spot.
JOHN: Bill, this place is killing me. I'm stuck. I should be out there like you. Mixing it up. If I had guts like you I'd be out west. Did you know I used to do musicals?
PIANO MAN: I did not.
JOHN: In high school, Bill. Loved it. I should be out in Hollywood or something. On the big screen.
PIANO MAN: Then do it.
JOHN: Beh.
PIANO MAN: Seriously.
JOHN: There's Paul. Paul! Whatcha drinking? Come over here you old barnacle. Bill, doesn't Paul look like a barnacle?
PIANO MAN: I don't...
JOHN: Beardy Balls and Barnacle Face! The piano-playing, real estate-buying duo. Barkeep, get old Barny here a boilermaker.
Five years ago, Leah and I were married. I'm feeling private today, so any lovey dovey stuff will be shared over dinner this evening. Today, I want to share a story of when one man stole the show at our reception. One podiatrist who with his very own fancy feet set the tone for what would become a full out party. One loving father who may have accidentally started the choreographed, wedding/reception dance phenomenon that's swept the nation. I asked his choreographer, Jessica Clarke, to recall the event. She wrote,
"Dad’s not a dancer. Never has been. Not at weddings, not at baht mitzvah’s, not leisurely. Growing up, Leah was paranoid he wouldn’t even do the father/daughter dance at her wedding. To reassure herself, she would tell him matter-of-factly ‘Well, you’re dancing with me at my wedding.’ Then, meekly she'd follow with, ‘Right? Please? Come on dad, you have to.’"
"Dad randomly said in passing to me, ‘She wouldn’t know what to do if I actually got out there and danced.’ I spent the next two days convincing my dad he should learn a choreographed dance. Jane supplied me with an N’SYNC music video to pull some sweet moves, and I put together a pretty basic routine."
"It took him a few hours to learn the dance, and even though he was way out of his element, he persevered. Dad does nothing half-hearted. There were many late-nights of practicing in the basement and garage. He would emerge sweaty to questioning looks from family members. Many times he'd ask, 'How’s that part go again?' or 'What do my feet do here?' Eventually, against all odds (his severe lack of rhythm), he conquered a dance routine that most six-year olds could manage."
"The reception was one of the few times I’ve seen my dad nervous. He was strangely quiet, couldn’t eat his dinner, and kept saying ‘I can’t wait ‘til it’s over’. He added the sunglasses so he could close his eyes and not have to see everyone watching him. He has told me since that he gained a new respect for cheerleading and dancers. I can only imagine what will ensue at the next Clarke wedding."
With that, I give you the world premiere of Dr. John Clarke's dance dance revolution.
This song cannonballs my soul in overwhelming and unexplainable ways. It's been stuck in my head and chest for weeks. If you have a spare moment, and feeling extra open-minded, put your hands in your lap, close your eyeballs and just listen. It may or may not feel like a warm Shamu splash. Either way, it's only four minutes.
You should watch this at least twice. And in full screen mode. Man oh man. So beautiful. Here's an interview with the director, copied from Coldplay's website:
The amazing new video for Strawberry Swing was directed by visual artists Shynola. We asked Kenny from the group to tell us how it was made...
Hello Kenny, how are you? Great, thank you. I'm eating a yogurt.
How did you come to be involved with the Strawberry Swing video? We were approached one day, with what was an unusual, but rather intriguing brief - namely, make a video for a song that wasn't really going to be released, and at film resolution so it could be shown in cinemas. More of a short-film than a typically commercial piece.
Could you tell us some of the other music videos you guys have worked on? We've made videos for Beck, Unkle, The Rapture, a load of stuff for Radiohead, a video with David Shrigley for Blur, and my favourite one - Queens of the Stone Age.
Are you fans of Coldplay? Who?
Had you had this idea up your sleeves for a while, or was it a direct response to the Strawberry Swing song? No, we always pitch specifically for the song. That has meant on previous occasions that we have stared at a blank wall for a week and found no inspiration at all. We've then had to pass on those projects. But we'd still rather work that way. The work is pointless agony if you're not inspired. Our hope is that when the video is finished and you've watched it, that afterwards when you hear the song you can't help but think of the video.
So, how did you go about planning this video? We sat around throwing ideas back and forth, silly details or camera moves, and then started to sketch these as stills. We then cut these stills into a timeline, alongside the song, to get a sense of pacing and how it would all marry with the music. It was deliberately spontaneous at that stage to try and keep the video playful. That's a hard thing to hold on to when you are being meticulous.
What's the inspiration behind the story in the video? First and foremost we really wanted it to be nonsensical and almost dream-like. We also knew that the technique itself would also be a lot for the eye to take in. So when we had the idea of a day with a superhero on some weird adventure we chose to frame the journey with a very simple, easy-to-understand narrative: superhero saves girl from baddy. So it's pretty weird, but makes some sort of sense. I saw the video referred to as "ten-steps-left-of-centre" which we take as a great compliment. I might even get that as a tattoo.
Have any of Shynola had a bad experience with squirrels? Our lawyers inform us that if we talk about it now it may jeopardise the court case.
It looks like you must have had a very detailed plan before Chris came into the studio? Once we got confirmation that it was happening we all made a swift visit to the toilet. As you can imagine this took a LOT of organisation and planning. We were going "what have we promised here?" We ended up making a fully animated "pre-vis" version of the video beforehand, with a CG Chris. You can watch it in its own right. This served as a microscopic, frame-by-frame guide for us on the shoot. Which meant that when we actually came to start shooting, in a way, the video was already edited and finished.
How much did you try to tie the plot in with the Strawberry Swing lyrics and the music? We never see the point in following lyrics literally. We would be adding nothing. We do however try and capture the feel of the song - what the music suggests to us.
How long were you with Chris (and where)? We were in Los Angeles for around a week or so. I think the band were on a little break mid-tour.
How did you communicate to him what he had to? We broke the video down into shots and tackled them chronologically, having a much needed rest between each. We would show Chris the animated version and then try to recreate it as precisely as possible. "Start here. Move 52 increments. Finish in this position. On frame 38, look behind you." He was unflappable, he memorised it all instantly. Just outside of shot we had a huge grid drawn out to help us find his position and we would yell at him "North east, one foot!".
Was he a good real-life-superhero-in-an-animated world? It wasn't really until we started filming that it dawned on us just how vital his ability was to the whole show. If he hadn't got it, and got in to it, we would have been scuppered. Luckily he was even better than we could have anticipated. He's also incredibly fit. We filmed some tests in our London studio with myself on the floor and after 10 minutes I needed a hip replacement.
Did you have to do a lot of takes? There really wasn't time to to redo shots, so everything you see is the first attempt. We did have a false start when we checked the first shot and found that you could clearly see the grid we were using and had to start again.
How long was Chris in the studio? We met briefly a couple of times for his costume fitting and then when we were setting up the day prior to filming. He put the costume on and started rolling around on the floor giddily while we looked through the lens. That was perhaps the happiest moment of the project. We thought "Damn, this might just work".
Was the "chalk-drawing" actually done on the floor? No one seems to want to believe that we drew it on the floor. Which is particularly galling, seeing how long the video took us.
So how did you do it? Again we had pretty much all of the animation roughly blocked-out beforehand using computers. It was just a matter of taking one frame at a time with our grid for reference. Luckily, you only need to draw or rub out the bits that have moved since the last frame. We also had this cool portable monitor while filming, which showed you a live feed from the camera, blended with the previous take and our pre-vis.
Was that the most time consuming part of the process? It was all pretty gruelling. The thing that sticks in my mind was when Chris is falling with the umbrella. If you look closely he is lying on a tiny square skateboard we had made. For each frame we had to drag him an inch this way or that to make him swing. There was a lot of sore backs after the shoot. Always bend at the knee. And back up your hard-drive.
Did you have many technical problems while you were making it? We did have the occasional problem with the cape getting snarled up - oh, the perils of superhero life! - but we had a brilliant art department team who very capably waggled his cape for the whole shoot.
How long were you working on it in all? Far too long. My therapist says I should draw a line under it.
Presumably you're pleased with the final video? We always hate our videos when we've just finished them. If they are not full of mistakes, meddling or compromises, then we are always sick to the back-teeth of looking at them. There's always a discrepancy between what's in your mind and the end product. Astonishingly, considering how difficult it was, this one worked out really, really well. Largely this was due to the amount of trust the band and the management put in us.
Have you seen it on a cinema screen yet? I went to a special test-screening in London to check the transfer. You really need to see it huge to take in all the detail. For a while we wondered: will anyone even know it's Chris Martin? But when you see it in the cinema he is life size. It's weird. It's like he's rolling around in front of you.
What do you hope viewers will take from the video? The best technique for blowing up a squirrel.
And finally, tell us a bit about the dog at the end. What role did he/she have in the production? The dog's name is Phil. He's often credited in Coldplay's sleevenotes as the fifth member.
