Monday, May 9, 2016

MOMI REFLECTION

A trip to the Museum of the Moving Image is a fascinating experience for any lover of film and television. Personally, seeing (and touching) props from some of the most legendary films, and some of my personal favorites, including A Nightmare on Elm Street, Mrs. Doubtfire, and The Exorcist, was literally a dream-come-true. But apart from my own nostalgia, there were a lot of historical exhibits showcasing the first ever cameras, microphones, and television sets which chronologically show the slow, but drastic evolution of the technology we are used to today. There were a few exhibits relating to what we have discussed in class. For example, spinning the zoetrope and the thaumatrope turned the concept of the moving image into a reality right before my eyes, something so simple, yet innovative enough to later became the very foundation of the creation of film. The earliest versions of the microphone were large and almost unbelievable in weight and size. The first ever cameras were also mostly large and boxy in scale, but also ranged in all sizes and ages, from old school film and studio cameras to the first models of the portapak. Walking through the museum was like taking a trip time, stopping at each major milestone in the evolution of the camera and the evolution of film. A must see experience for anyone with a love for film and tv.

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Project #2 - Audio Portrait - 'My Cousin Russell'

Blog #3 - Selfie From Hell

Selfie from Hell is a short film, falling just under two minutes, with an impact as grand as a feature film. Many production techniques contribute to its greatness, most notably its relatable, yet simple plot. It isn't an easy feat making such a short film so terrifying but it's clear to me and anyone else who views it that two factors make this clip so great. It's cinematography and its editing. 

The editing is simple and clean. It follows the continuity guidelines quite perfectly. The cutting from main camera view, to POV shots, and back to camera view, gives the viewer just enough information to know what's happening while effectively keeping them guessing with each cut. The editing contributes greatly to the fear factor of the film by consistently putting the viewer in the main character's shoes and seeing exactly as she sees, and exactly what she does not.

The editing follows the 180 degree rule precisely, ensuring that even when camera angles shift, the placement of the actor and background remain consistent. As the main character makes several 180-360 degree turns to snap photos, the cuts follow perfectly, timed to match her starting point and end point while effectively cutting to shots of the dark room that she is photographing throughout the series of turns. 

The editing in this clip is simple and clean, following the continuity guidelines to make each cut seamless and smooth. This helps to add a very life-like and realistic feel to the clip, which, without question, is one of the key factors in making it a brilliantly terrifying film.





Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Blog #2 - Planes, Trains, & Automobiles

      It's one of many transit hubs in New York. Constant trains, planes, and automobiles are everywhere you turn, no matter the time or the day. Its soundscape is much like a war zone, with construction on new building developments in every possible direction and the 24/7 operation of the above-ground N, Q, and 7 trains overhead. 

Queensborough Plaza is a neighborhood I call home. Between my morning commute to work, my afternoon commute to school, and my evening commute home, I constantly find myself in the midst of the drills, bangs, booms, honks, horns, and continuous metal-to-metal grinding and screeching. Most times I try my best to avoid these sounds by moving from point A to point B as quickly as possible with my earphones in, drowning out the city noises with music. But today I sat, walked, and observed with nothing to distract my mind from the insanely busy, displeasingly noisy neighborhood.

 It didn't matter how far I walked, there is never an escape from noise in the "neighborhood under construction" without leaving it all together. The surrounding sounds of drills, jackhammers, and trucks were everywhere I turned. Sitting in the park below the Queensborough Bridge, in a visually calming, yet audibly displeasing oasis of plant life and benches, the sounds of the overhead subway trains became almost rhythmic and routine. The metal-grinding wheels of the trains created a pattern of identical, rhythmic sounds until they inevitably faded away as they passed far enough by me. It only took a minute or two before the next one arrived. The silence between trains allowed for the sounds of construction to regain control of the soundscape, followed by the speeding cars, trucks, and buses making their way over the bustling bridge. 

 The occasional spoken lyric added to the soundscape. "This is... Queensborough Plaza", was announced clearly and consistently among every passing train as well as the all too familiar, "Stand clear of closing doors, please." The surprisingly pleasing sounds of human voices walking through the park with bike riders whistling by almost created a sense of calm and serenity in the jungle of metal and concrete. And if I listened closely enough, and I mean, very closely, I may have heard a bird chirp once or twice. Of course it only lasted a minute, because before you know it, the next train was on its way to continue carrying on the rhythm of the noisy neighborhood that I call home.

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Blog #1 - Artist Statement

                There is a constant battle of passions brewing inside of me. I love production. Being a part of the creative process and telling stories that mean something to me ignites an inner fire like nothing else can. I also love television and the business behind it. Since I was a teenager I've always dreamt of sitting in a board room discussing possibilities for new series, ordering pilots, and brainstorming ideas for future projects. 





I'm constantly torn between the two loves. I look at it as a good problem to have. It's better to want to do too much than to not want to do enough. From music videos encouraging perseverance and equality, to PSA's tackling bold social and personal issues, I'm very proud of the work I've created thus far. But I have to say I'm even more proud that I want to continue creating important and powerful pieces that speak to anyone seeking a little hope, a little understanding, and the belief that they are not alone. When you have a passion, it's important to follow it and keep that fire alive not only for yourself, but for someone else who may need it.





My passion for television started when I was in my early and impressionable teens, when I had first fell in love with teen dramas like Dawson's Creek and The O.C. My love for television had grown to entirely new heights. Shortly after, I began tracking ratings for shows that I loved, their competitors in those time slots, and all other shows. It's an odd hobby for sure, but I loved doing it and still do to this day. 





Then a few years ago, when I began filming music videos during college, (Ed Sheeran's 'Photograph', Gavin DeGraw's 'Everything Will Change') and PSA's for organizations like The Trevor Project, I discovered the true power of creation and how important it was to me. When your passion has the potential to speak to even just one person who may relate to the story you are telling, suddenly your work has even more purpose. 





No matter what path I decide to take, no matter where this road leads me, I know I'll be happy with the outcome because where there is passion, there is no failure.