“Amateur cinema: Amateur filmmaking and the alternative film culture that emerged around it. Amateur films were polished short works aimed at an audience of fellow amateurs and members of the public. Distinct from rough home movies, but produced outside the commercial system, they include dramas, portrayals of everyday life, travel and nature films, comedies, and many other subjects and genres. Amateur films often experiment with film form.” –Amateurcinema.org
It might be hard to imagine a time when amateur filmmaking was considered a subculture, what with the abundance of accessible filmmaking today through digital platforms like Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube. However, when the Amateur Cinema League was founded in 1926, that’s exactly what it was: subculture. Because of this, amateur films from this era are a unique and rare find with limited visibility online. The University of Calgary and the Amateur Movie Database are making great efforts to expose amateur filmmaking, but large gaps still remain. O’ Canada, made by amateur filmmaker Markley L. Pepper, is one such rarity.
The provenance of this film is unknown and it might have gone unnoticed had it not been scanned as part of the IU Media Digitization and Preservation Initiative project, greatly enhancing discoverability and access. As part of phase two of MDPI, the Moving Image Archive selected significant collections of film to be digitized, cataloged, hosted, and shared through the Avalon Media System for IU. O’ Canada is a part of the Hal & Kathryn Stewart Collection. The Stewarts owned and operated the Denver branch of Ideal Pictures Corporation, a distributor of non-theatrical films, operating until 1980. My work in the Moving Image Archive involves cataloging films that have gone through the digitization process and are in need of descriptive metadata in order to facilitate access. The vast majority of films I had cataloged from the Stewart collection had been either Castle or Official films; i.e., large home movie producers and distributors with licensing rights for commercial theatrical films, in addition to sports reels, cartoons, and newsreels. Therefore, when I came across the bright red Amateur Cinema League banner set against a backdrop of a spinning globe my interests were peaked by sheer variation. The film itself has very limited information, apart from the title, creator, and locations. My preliminary research on ACL clued me in on the significance of the print; but upon deeper research, scouring issues of Movie Makers for any mention of the film, I started to recognize the potential for highlighting this seemingly forgotten film. A travelogue of various tourist destinations in Canada, Pepper has attractively captured scenic vistas, everyday tourist activities, and friendly wildlife in this vivid time capsule. However, more than being a beautiful travelogue, O’ Canada is a modern artifact of amateur filmmaking heritage. It represents an era of filmmaking before filmmaking became widely accessible. It is important not only to preserve, but to share and promote, what could have been, a lost artifact.
Pepper’s special attention to detail and style, exhibited through his title card artistry, frame set-up, and editing style, elevate the film beyond the typical home movie. My personal favorite scenes being the candid shots of the family of bears casually meandering through the forest. O’ Canada has no date; however, the color ACL leader used on the film came out in 1949 and the edge codes on the film indicate 1951 and 1952. Evidence of the time period is on fine display throughout the film. Pepper blends grand landscapes with personal moments, like the screenshots below; delivering a sense of intimacy to the audience and further distinguishing the film.
Pepper, also working out of Denver, was a member of the Amateur Cinema League, Denver Cinema League, and the Amateur Motion Picture Society of Denver (Movie Makers). He also taught two cinema courses at the Emily Griffith Opportunity School in Denver and published an article in Movie Makers, “Welcome to Denver,” in 1948. Other titles by the filmmaker, documented, include: The Big Three and Colorado Landscape (whereabouts unknown).
IULMIA’s expanded WWII Films and IU: Audiovisual Production, Distribution, and Education exhibit includes an extensive selection of films on food production, agriculture, and natural resource conservation produced and exhibited for civilian audiences during wartime. Our earlier post on the 1942 Federal Security Agency-produced You Can’t Eat Tobacco profiled the role of government sponsored films promoting federal public health and food policy. This week’s post showcases another wartime food and agriculture film appearing in the expanded exhibit, the 11 minute Farmer At War released March 11, 1943 by the Office of War Information Bureau of Motion Pictures, and Columbia Pictures, under the aegis of the War Activities Committee of the Motion Picture Industry.
The November, 1943 issue of Educational Screen advised readers in the audio-visual education field of the Office of War Information’s current themed propaganda campaigns: November was “Food For Freedom” month, and December’s campaigns included “Farm Production Goals” (along with “Don’t Travel” and “Security of Military Information”). A list of OWI produced and distributed 16mm films relating to food and agricultural subjects supported these campaigns, including World of Plenty (included in the IULMIA’s original WWII films exhibit), and Farmer At War, the short to be discussed in detail here.
As publicity and reviews frequently pointed out, Farmer At War is notable for its use of “actual farmfolk” – farm families of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania – filmed in a documentary style unlike many of the other propaganda shorts of the period.
The farms of Harry Schaeffer and Moses Zimmerman, both identified as being of “Pennsylvania Dutch” (German) ancestry are profiled, as well as a meeting of a farmers’ cooperative group discussing shared use of equipment and resources. While the overt message of the film’s narration is motivation and patriotism, showing a model of American hard work and resourcefulness as these farmers increase food production despite a scarcity of labor, Farmer At War also stands as a document of the role of Mennonite and Old Order Amish pacifist religious orders in WWII.
Earlier this spring IULMIA digitized in 1920×1080 HD over eighty films originally distributed by the IU Bureau of Audio-Visual Aids during the war years to be included in the expanded WWII Films and IU exhibit, including a 16mm print of Farmer At War . Exact dating of this print on DuPont film stock has not been possible, but is believed to be at least 70 years old. The print held by IULMIA was made with a variable density optical soundtrack, which, combined with slight warping of its aging cellulose acetate base, contributes to the noisiness of the sound in the first few minutes.
The Office of War Information, Bureau of Motion Pictures
In June of 1942 President Roosevelt established the Office of War Information (OWI) as a centralized agency supervising all print and broadcast media, with a goal to “facilitate the development of an informed and intelligent understanding, at home and abroad, of the status and progress of the war effort, and of the war policies, activities, and aims of the Government.”¹ The Bureau of Motion Pictures was formed as part of the Domestic Branch of the OWI, both to produce short, quickly made short informational films, and to liaison with Hollywood studios for the production of government-ordered films. Farmer At War was one of the dozens of films created in the first year of OWI production (other OWI productions from this period viewable in IULMIA’s exhibit include Salvage and Paratroops).
After this initial year OWI’s film work shifted to its Overseas Branch, with a mandate to create movies for audiences outside the Western hemisphere, while Hollywood assumed more complete control of domestic film production for the remainder of the war through the War Activities Committee of the Motion Picture Industry.
Our previous post on filmmaker Irving Jacoby overlaps with the OWI’s shift of movie making from the Domestic to the Overseas branch: this change coincided with Jacoby’s start as director of non-theatrical distribution for the Overseas branch in 1943, bringing on dozens of leading documentary filmmakers from Europe, Canada, and New York City. The 1943 Swedes In America (with Ingrid Bergman) is an excellent example of an OWI Overseas Branch production newly available in IULMIA’s expanded WWII exhibit.
The War Activities Committee of the Motion Picture Industry
The Hollywood motion picture industry during the war years was the epicenter of expert artists and technicians of filmmaking in the U.S. The urgent need for propaganda, motivational, training, and instructional films during wartime caused the government to call upon this national resource of talent to do its patriotic duty. Coordinating the roles of the Hollywood studios, theatrical exhibitors, distributors, newsreel producers, publicists, and the trade press in the war effort was the War Activities Committee of the Motion Picture Industry. Representatives of the major studios and dozens of other leading businesses in the movie industry made up the committee. Thousands of employees of the movie industry turned from feature film production to work on educational and inspirational films for both military and civilian audiences.
Film scholar Thomas Doherty, in his excellent history of Hollywood during WWII Projections of War, emphasizes the tensions arising from the government’s attempt to oversee the Hollywood film industry’s production of patriotic propaganda and motivational shorts. Many “Victory shorts” of the war years bear credits of individual studios, the OWI Bureau of Motion Pictures, and the blanket sponsorship of the War Activities Committee. Roles of production and distribution differed among Government and the film industry for various titles, but Doherty reports that Victory shorts such as Farmer At War achieved a degree of saturation in the American public matched only by the most successful feature films. A War Activities Committee survey found that 94 percent of theaters were including a Victory short in every show, and WAC vice-chairman Francis Harmon is quoted stating that “only eighteen to twenty four weeks is are now required for one of these war information reels to appear on more than fourteen thousand screens.”
As one of many non-theatrical distributors, the IU Bureau of Audio-Visual Aids contributed to even greater exposure to war information films such as Farmer At War through impromptu screenings using portable 16mm sound projectors in classrooms, community groups, and churches.
Pacifist Religious Orders in Wartime
Though Farmer At War presents the work of Pennsylvania Dutch farmers in terms of the contribution to the War effort by those too young or old for military service, it also provides a much rarer glimpse the role traditionally pacifist communities during wartime through its documentation of Mennonite and Amish communities of Lancaster county.
Historian and scholar of Amish history Steven Reschly has written on depictions of Lancaster county pacifist religious orders in wartime propaganda, and particularly on Farmer At War as a document of the role played by members of Mennonite and Amish religious groups in the national war effort. Though the film never identifies religious affiliation of its subjects, Reschly identifies Moses Zimmerman as “a plain farmer whose wife wears a head covering,” referring to the plain dress customs of those religious groups descended from the Christian Anabaptist tradition.
While members of these historic peace churches were entitled to exemption from military service as conscientious objectors, Farmer At War depicts their cooperation in the nation’s war effort through increased food production.
In addition to images of plain farmers appearing in Farmer At War, the Farm Security Administration and the Office of War Information produced photographs and posters using images of old Lancaster county farm families as part of domestic propaganda campaigns. OWI leadership called for morale-building, pro-America pictures, and photographers John Collier Jr. and Irving Rusinow travelled to Lancaster county to produce them. Images of the Lancaster county Amish served as “wartime symbols of American comradery and abundance.”²
The use of synchronous sound in Farmer At War also sets it apart from many of the similar Victory shorts in IULMIA’s exhibit.
Instead of the usual narration and music added to silent camera footage or compilations from stock footage libraries, this production evidently brought cumbersome field sound equipment to Lancaster county to record Schaeffer, Zimmerman, and the voices of the farmers’ cooperative. Most notable is the closing Thanksgiving prayer delivered in an unbroken 90 second take by Moses Zimmerman, summarizing the film’s message: calling for aid to the Allied nations and particularly for the nation’s farmers as “doubtless this coming year we will have less help, less machinery…”
Release of the new WWII Films and IU exhibit
On June 6, the 71st anniversary of the 1944 D-Day landings at Normandy by the armies of the Allied nations in World War II, IU Libraries Moving Image will release its expanded World War II Propaganda Films and IU online exhibit. More than two hundred 16mm wartime films from IULMIA’s collections, originally distributed for classroom and non-theatrical exhibition by Indiana University during the war, will be available for streaming viewing through the exhibit, here: http://collections.libraries.iub.edu/IULMIA/exhibits/show/world-war-ii-propaganda-films
2. Reschly, S. D., & Jellison, K. (2008). Shifting images of Lancaster county Amish in the 1930s and 1940s. Mennonite Quarterly Review, 82(3), 469-483.
Harmon, F.S. (1944). Movies As Propaganda. In The Command Is Forward (pp. 8-13). New York, NY: Richard R. Smith. http://www.archive.org/stream/commandisforward00harm#page/8/mode/2up Reschly S.D. & Jellison, K. (2014). Picturing World War II on the “Garden Spot” Home Front: Images and Memories of Mennonite Farm Families in Lancaster County. Pennsylvania Mennonite Heritage37(4), 114-118.
As IULMIA’s WWII Films and IU: Audiovisual Production, Circulation, and Education exhibit approaches it’s one year anniversary, we are excited to announce the upcoming expansion of the exhibit to include 84 newly digitized World War II era films. Beginning June 6, 2015 the exhibit will grow to include access to over 200 titles, many never before available online or on video.
The Second World War era films in IULMIA’s collections represent a founding part of the film collections at IU, as widespread use of motion pictures in training and education took hold during the war years and immediately after. Looking back on his years with the Army Pictorial Service of the Signal Corps, applying the lessons of wartime film use to postwar education, Charles Hoban wrote in his book Movies That Teach:
In the face of unprecedented demands for training millions of men and women to win a war in the most effective way in the shortest possible time, the armed forces and other war-training and morale-building agencies turned to motion pictures with unquestioning faith in their teaching values. During the years immediately preceding and throughout World War II, thousands of motion pictures were made and used on a scale which, in comparison to total possible audiences, exceeded the pre-war use of films both in entertainment and education.
Indiana University prided itself on being at the forefront of innovation in audiovisual instruction, adopting military uses of moving pictures to civilian training and pedagogy. I.U.’s Bureau of Audio-Visual Aids (BAVA) ascended to prominence over the course of the war years as it lobbied for a greater role for educational film libraries in the distribution of government films¹. Under the leadership of L.C. Larson, the Bureau became a major depository of government produced wartime information, propaganda, and training films, serving as a distributor to audiences in Indiana and the surrounding region.
Hundreds of films acquired or deposited at I.U. during the years of the second World War substantially increased the size of the BAVA film collection, the core of a film distribution library that would grow to tens of thousands of film prints under the custody of the renamed I.U. Audio-Visual Center (IUAVC) by the 1970s. These 16mm prints dating from the war era now constitute some of the oldest materials among the roughly 48,000 prints in the I.U. Libraries Moving Image Archive’s educational film collection.
In June 2014 the I.U. Libraries Moving Image Archive unveiled WWII Propaganda Films and IU, an online exhibit, created using the Omeka platform, providing access to 117 films digitized from original 16mm film prints distributed by the Bureau of Audio-Visual Aids during the war years. Curated from the 1943War Films catalog issued by the I.U. Extension Division, the exhibit highlights the role of I.U.’s BAVA and educational film libraries in distributing these War-era films to domestic audiences of school and community groups. Increased availability of 16mm sound film projectors, necessary for the government’s dissemination of War Information to citizens, made possible the non-theatrical circulation of films found in the exhibit. Portable exhibition of the smaller 16mm format turned the classroom, 4H meeting, fraternal order, church, or factory floor into the setting in which these film prints from I.U. were screened.
Now, nearly a year later, IULMIA is finishing preparations for the substantial expansion of the WWII Propaganda Films and IU exhibit—set to officially launch June 6, 2015— to include 84 additional digitized films from its collections, representing an even broader sampling of government film production during the WWII era.
Virtually all of the films to be added to site have never before been available online in any form, and most have never seen video release of any kind. All additions to the exhibit, amounting to more than 20 hours of film, are high definition digital transfers of original 16mm prints in circulation during the War era. When the expanded exhibit opens June 6, 2015, a total of 201 WWII era films from IULMIA’s collections will be available for streaming access.
Curation of these additions to the WWII exhibit has emphasized the scope of wartime filmmaking beyond the battlefield and military films that brought news of the war home. Because civilians were the primary audience for films distributed by I.U., subjects concerning domestic life and economy, agriculture and natural resource management, workplace training, and the cultures of the allied nations are especially prevalent in IULMIA’s war era film collections. Additionally, selection for the expanded exhibit has focussed on providing streaming access to historically notable war era films not available through other major online archival collections (U.S. National Archives, National Film Board of Canada, Prelinger Archives, and FedFlix all provide access to major collections of WWII related films).
Among the highlights of the expanded exhibit will be many lesser known productions of the U.S. Department of Agriculture that were released and widely exhibit during the war years. While many titles such as Farmer’s Wife and Harvest For Victory carry explicit messages of wartime conservation and thrift, an equal number of the USDA’s films from the era articulate less war-specific messages about improved farming practices, conservation of natural resources, land, and water management.
The addition of 10 titles in the U.S. Office of Education’s wartime “Problems in Supervision” series to the exhibit provide a fascinating look at the wartime factory shop floor and assembly line in their mini-dramatizations of workplace conflict. Fans of Supervising Women Workers will be sure to enjoy such titles as Maintaining Workers’ Interest and Placing the Right Man on the Job.
The productions of the Office of the Coordinator of Inter-American Affairs represent another facet of government sponsored filmmaking in the war years. Dozens of documentary shorts profiling the culture and geography of Central and South America attempted carry out the aims of FDR’s “Good Neighbor Policy” by fostering a sense of solidarity between the nations of the Americas. Many great OCIAA films have been viewable via Prelinger Archives, such as Willard Van Dyke and Ben Maddow’s The Bridge, or the numerous OCIAA films of Julien Bryan. Seventeen wartime OCIAA titles not previously available are among the newly digitized IULMIA films, including lovely Kodachrome prints of travelogues such as The Hill Towns of Guatemala and Sundays In The Valley of Mexico, and the cautionary animated short Water: Friend Or Enemy.
Before we officially launch the expanded exhibit June 6, we’ll be featuring a few of the outstanding examples among the newly digitized films with posts here. Stay tuned in the coming weeks for a closer look at some great examples of these government-produced films, never before available online, intended to inform, train, persuade and inspire domestic audiences during wartime.
Check back soon for these coming attractions for your viewing pleasure here at the IULMIA blog:
The singular You Can’t Eat Tobacco (1943), a public health film reporting on impoverished tenant farming communities in coastal North Carolina. Written by Margaret Cussler and photographed on unfailingly beautiful Kodachrome by Mary DeGive, the film marked the debut of this two woman filmmaking team.
High Over The Borders (1942), a U.S.-Canadian co-production whose credits include documentary makers John Ferno and Irving Jacoby, featuring sophisticated high-speed photography, and studying the migratory routes of birds as a symbol of the unity of the nations of the Americas.
Farmer At War (1943) a neglected masterpiece credited to The War Activities Committee of the Motion Picture Industry, using stark landscape photography and a social documentarian style to profile the heroic efforts of elderly farmers in Lancaster county, Pennsylvania, increasing wartime food production even as farms were vacated by young men.
Nathan Salsburg is the Curator of the Alan Lomax Archive at the Association for Cultural Equity (ACE). The ACE was founded “to explore and preserve the world’s expressive traditions with humanistic commitment and scientific engagement.” As home to the Alan Lomax Archive, the ACE preserves and promotes the life’s work of the ethnomusicologist, including thousands of sound and moving image recordings, photographs, and field notes.
Nathan was kind enough to answer some questions about his experiences in audiovisual archiving and curation in anticipation of his presentation in Bloomington May 25th, 2014. An Evening of Music and Film with Nathan Salsburg and the Alan Lomax Archivewill showcase raw footage from the recordings that eventually made up Lomax’s PBS series “American Patchwork”. The event will also feature a solo guitar set by Salsburg and the screening of some rare 16mm music-themed footage presented by the IU Libraries Film Archive.
IU Libraries Film Archive: How’d you get into this line of work? What was your path to the very cool title of “Curator of the Alan Lomax Archive at the Association for Cultural Equity”?
Nathan Salsburg: I came to it as a fan, which I still am. I was raised on my parents’ Dave Van Ronk, Mississippi John Hurt, and Dylan records, and after I graduated college and moved to NYC in the summer of 2000, I wrote the Woody Guthrie Archive (then based in Midtown), who took me on for a couple afternoons of volunteerism. They told me the Lomax Archive was hiring and I applied. Started that fall: making coffee, doing post-office runs, writing accession numbers on DATs, if that gives you a sense of the period. Had considered some kind of grad program in folklore or ethnomusicology, but the reality of paid work with one of the largest and most storied private collections of field recordings eclipsed that idea, and has done since.
IULFA: In this very professionalized field, you are unique in terms of your credentials – you don’t boast an MLS or specialized degree in archives/preservation. How has this hindered/helped your work?
NS: Ha, that’s a nice way to say that I have no credentials whatsoever! Right, my primary interest was never in collections management or preservation or any of that — I wanted to put out records. Not long before I arrived, the Archive, under the direction of Alan’s daughter Anna Lomax Wood, had succeeded in digitizing all of its audio, photo, and video and film collections; this dovetailed with the launch of Rounder Records’ 100-CD “Alan Lomax Collection” and an emphasis on both licensing and digital cataloging, ultimately with the goal of complete online access and direct digital dissemination to other institutions. By 2004 we had largely become a digital archive, with all of Lomax’s original media being accessioned by the Library of Congress’ American Folklife Center as part of their Lomax Collection — which united Alan’s post-1944 recordings with the early ones he made with his father under the Library’s auspices (1933–1944) — and by then most of my work was taken up doing editorial on what became ACE’s Online Archive. Then in 2008 I started putting together albums of Lomax’s recordings for various outlets. So the issue of my particular credentialessness was never put to the test, as I’m lucky to be involved at a time in the collection’s life when I can be most useful as an editor and a curator.
IULFA: How has the Lomax Archive changed during your tenure? What are some challenges you have today that you didn’t have when you started?
NS: The Archive was really ahead of the digitization curve — Anna went after and got support from big grantors like NARAS and Save America’s Treasures (since done in by the Federal Government). For several years we were one of the biggest sound archives to have for all intents and purposes all of its collection in digital formats. That, obviously, gave us the leg up we needed for launching the online research center, and also gave me the chance to move back home to Kentucky with all of the Lomax Archive in a few hard drives. So that was certainly the biggest change — analog to digital — and it felt good to give presentations at conferences on our digital initiatives and get a room packed with curators and archivists and librarians who were attempting the same thing with their collections and looking to us for advice.
The irony, though, is that we were too early to build the site with social media in mind, and what seemed so cutting-edge just a few years ago hasn’t fared so well in translation through Facebook, Twitter, and all the rest, and it desperately needs an overhaul. So now the biggest challenge is redesigning the system with an eye to long-term flexibility, durability, relevance, and ease of access online.
IULFA: Your work with patrons must be very exciting and diverse. What kinds of people contact you about your collections?
NS: We’re an interesting case, I think: we get plenty of queries from users of our online archive, but for most in-depth research folks go to the reading room at the American Folklife Center, where most of the original Lomax media — and most associated documentation — is held. So although we’re a digital archive, it’s largely the audio, photo, and moving image that’s accessible online; we didn’t attempt to create an attendant space on our site for Lomax’s papers: even crucial documentation like field logs (although images of most of his tape boxes are available through the site).
We’re lucky to have that partnership in play with the AFC. They’ll handle most serious research requests, but when they get contacted with licensing queries, they’ll pass them onto us. (This is part of saying how lucky we are to have the LOC in charge of the physical preservation of the original media. We’d be in tough shape if we had to shoulder that burden ourselves. And in fact they’re nearly finished with the digitization of the nearly 150,000 papers in the Lomax Collection there.)
But we do get a lot and I mean a lot of usage requests: occasionally for licensing for films and tv, but mostly for University Press books, academic journals, theses, etc. And then so many requests for songs for remixes. I won’t attempt to say what percentage of these do anything beneficial for the original performance, but we do grant nearly every respectful use and try not to let our own tastes get in the way of spreading awareness of the collection.
The best contacts we get, though, are from families of the artists that Lomax recorded. These have increased exponentially over the past few years and that’s thanks to YouTube; we hear from a lot of nephews, grandchildren, cousins, etc., who come across clips of their relative(s) singing or playing or dancing. One of my favorite comments we ever received came from the granddaughter of a leader of a lining-hymn at an Old Regular Baptist Church near Mayking, Ky.
This is my papaw John Wright lining the song!!!!!! I have been to many of his services and there is nothin in the whole wide world like it!!!! It does my heart such good to see and hear him sing again and he_ looks so wonderful to me!!!!! Thank You GOD for being able to see him again till i join him!!!!!
IULFA: Tell us your thoughts about access and outreach, and more specifically, the hugely popular YouTube channel you curate.
NS: YouTube has been such a massive boon to us: in terms of publicizing the collection; making contact with the families of artists; and just getting into folks’ eyes and ears. We’ve got over 15,000 subscribers and nearly six million views, which is just such an exponentially bigger audience than Lomax’s work has ever had previously. He would have flipped had he been able to see what YouTube makes possible, not just in terms of the reach of his own collections, but more generally in terms of the potential for cultural self-representation. Lomax insisted as early as the early ‘60s that there were too many media receivers and too few transmitters, and the arc of the second half of his career was largely dedicated to leveling the playing field; the notion of what he called “cultural equity.” YouTube is the most democratic means yet of site-specific players, singers, dancers, etc., doing their own, if you’ll pardon the phrase, “self-collection,” and self-presentation, and self-representation.
IULFA: How about repatriation and the archive?
NS: Being a digital archive lets us do all kinds of things online, but it also makes our repatriation efforts possible. We’ve donated hundreds and hundreds of hours of audio and moving image media, plus many hundreds of still images, to archives, libraries, and community centers all over the world, for the sake of returning Lomax’s collections to the places they come from. The most recent one of these repatriation events was held at the Senatobia Public Library in the Mississippi Hill Country last October, following a similar event and donation to the library in Como down the road a year earlier. (You can read more about the eventshere, and a more impressionistic piece I wrote here.) Seeing the response from the community, and specifically from all the family of artists that came to the ceremony, was my proudest moment with the Archive.
IULFA: Finally, can you share a couple of “gems” from Lomax’s recordings with us?
NS: It’s tough with Lomax’s recordings – there are so many of them from so many places, across so many years, but of course I have my favorites: ones that I’ve returned to year after year and that never lose any of their awesomeness, which I mean in the traditional sense (and the vernacular one). In my top five of moving-image favorites is this clipfrom a 1978 picnic on the Bartlett plantation outside of Como, Mississippi, led by Napoleon (or Napolian) Strickland and his band. Napoleon was a phenomenal multi-instrumentalist – played guitar, diddley-bow, harmonica, and fife – and he shows off the latter two in this segment. The performance is so good, but I also really appreciate how he hams it up for the camera, and subtly directs his band into formation for it, which belies the notion that this is “ethnographic” filmmaking in the traditional sense.
And here’s an audio-only bonus. I’ve worked for the Lomax Archive for 13 1/2 years, and it took me 13 1/2 years to hear this song, which I’ve become utterly obsessed with. Just yesterday (May 15) I stumbled across it in the digital equivalent of the bottom of a file cabinet: Lomax’s 1967 recording session from St. Eustatius, which is this postage-stamp of an island in the Dutch Antilles, south of Anguilla. (I had to look it up.) He was there on vacation with his partner at the time, Joan Halifax, and he obviously was doing some one-off recording with folks he met. This tremendous singer-guitarist, identified only as Alice, sang two English ballads – one of them among the best versions I’ve ever heard of the hoary old “Barbara Allen,” which I’d listened to before, and then this bizarre and hilarious and wonderful ballad called “Jerusalem Cuckoo,” that I’d completely overlooked. I’d love to know where she got these; especially the latter, which has all these Cockney elements, even in the title: “Jerusalem” is rhyming slang for “donkey,” in some impenetrable associative logic. Make sure you listen through to the very end. Everything about it is sublime.
Dean Plionis began his career in a number of production-oriented jobs in Boston, Los Angeles and Philadelphia, having studied film and television at Boston University. Currently, he serves as the Director of Operations at Colorlab, a position that requires him to ensure the company’s efficient operation in preserving films and processing negatives. He notes that his transition from technical work to preservation work was a challenge, in that he had not previously been exposed to the world of film preservation. This transition is something he feels is “representative of most peoples’ experience in modern productions…there are schools and programs that do teach a lot of film handling and curating skills, but in general there’s a good deal of on-the-job training and education. We work with such a huge variety of film formats, splicers, printers, and video and digital equipment that it’s not realistic to expect any one candidate to have all of that experience.”
Colorlab staff members, including Plionis himself, have hyphenated responsibilities; such multitasking in laboratory work is considered the norm in an increasingly digital-oriented preservation landscape. “There’s this hybridization of new digital and original mechanical technology, techniques, and workflows that’s been evolving over the last five to ten years and will continue to do so in the future,” Plionis notes, adding that more traditional workflows require an evolving, DIY skillset, particularly given declining manufacturer support and frequent modification and maintenance of preservation equipment. “Most productions originate on digital platforms now and each year, fewer of those productions are backed up or archived to some sort of physical medium…it’s not really an archival-friendly environment because the footage doesn’t exist in a physical form.”
Plionis says the biggest misconception people have about film is that it is inaccessible; he argues that digital and video formats are often less accessible than film, due to the lack of regularly-maintained technological support systems and the difficulty of reverse-engineering in accessing data. He cites recent industry discussions regarding 2” Quad tapes, the video format that was introduced in the 1950s – this format is no longer used in production and many in the preservation field are concerned about what continued efforts will be made once the last video heads for the format are produced. “Once the data encoding standards change – as they do regularly in the digital realm – all bets are off if that data is not continually migrated. The context of time over a period of decades needs to be considered when it comes to evaluating the ‘accessibility’ of any given media format, and film has certainly withstood that test,” he says, adding that “there have been studies showing that the long-term costs of preserving data to film are actually lower than preserving data digitally, once you factor in the costs associated with continually migrating digital data and upgrading computer systems in order to keep up with technological changes. A newly-made film stored in a climate-controlled environment can last a hundred years or longer with minimal maintenance.”
Thus, while other formats have come and gone, film has remained a consistent presence in the preservation field, due in part to what Plionis refers to as the “human-readable” advantage of the medium – the images housed on a reel of film can be viewed by the human eye in a way digital images cannot. “From a technological standpoint, all that’s needed for a motion picture film is a light source and some sort of shutter, which people will always have the ability to recreate…original films really are the ultimate masters that preserve your ability to go back and re-visit the material as technology and standards change.”
Yet film preservation carries unique challenges. Plionis says, “the most difficult challenge the field of preservation faces is that it requires the allocation of time and resources today for the payoff of people having access to it a generation or two later. Will they care, be thankful, and in turn, take it upon themselves to pass on this data to future generations? There’s an element of trust involved that your preservation methods will hold up and that there will be someone waiting for it on the other end of time.” Format-specific preservation challenges are often represented by conflicting goals: Colorlab staff are charged with preserving the film, manipulating the image and sound as little as possible, while simultaneously correcting or repairing damage that has occurred since the time of creation. Of Colorlab’s processes, Plionis notes, “we prefer to use photochemical processes to fix issues where we can, such as using liquid-gate when printing intermediates to naturally hide base scratches or rewash treatments to soften and anneal scratches in the emulsion. Digital methods are still used but there is definitely an aspect of fixing an image too much, just like you can ‘photoshop’ an image to the point where it looks fake and inauthentic. In general, we have a more minimalist intervention perspective and we certainly won’t add color to a B/W image that never had color or do anything like Spielberg or Lucas did with reissues of their older films where they digitally removed the guns from the hands of agents or added CGI over their original effects.”
At the end of the day, Colorlab staff defer to clients, as the stewards of the films, to make decisions regarding preservation. “We feel it’s more our job to stand back and explain the options available,” Plionis says, citing a recent project in which a client requested the addition of an explanatory title card in an incomplete silent film: “The question then becomes, do we try to make that title card match the exact style of the other inter-titles or not? Maybe that’s too ‘interpretive’ while the other may disrupt the viewing experience if it seems too out of place.” Questions of authenticity become a discussion between client and staff, with Plionis adding that “choices like that are really the client’s to make.”
In addition to working with clients on preservation projects, Colorlab staff regularly provides outreach by attending archival conferences and conventions such as AMIA, The Orphan Film Symposium, and The Flaherty Film Seminar, often participating in technical discussion panels. The company occasionally takes on interns, but the high learning curve that goes into training and education is often a deterrent.
Currently, Colorlab staff are working on several high-profile projects, including preservation of original production and interview outtakes from the civil rights documentary Eyes on the Prize, a documentary about Carnegie Hall’s 1986 renovation, The 28-Week Miracle, and a film called Nenotri I Dyte (The Second November), for the Albanian Cinema Project, an effort to introduce historically-isolated Albanian cinema to global audiences for the first time. Additionally, Colorlab recently provided archival transfers to Ken Burns for his upcoming 7-episode documentary, The Roosevelts.
Though Plionis believes that film’s days as a mainstream production format are numbered, he doesn’t see the format going completely away: “there will always be a group of people devoted to it, just like there’s always a group of people devoted to using any other obsolete format and technology.” Film’s greatest advantage, he argues, is in its use as a preservation format, “given its time-tested resiliency, its human-readability, and the fact that a projector or other scanning equipment can always be reverse-engineered…the key to seeing film survive in this format is basically tied in with the larger argument for preservation.”
A film historian, curator and researcher, Nico de Klerk’s professional interests lie outside the typical film canon. During his student years, he “roamed a bit initially” before receiving an English degree at the Leiden University and later obtaining his Master of Arts in Discourse Analysis at the University of Amsterdam. His interest in film came much later, and “it came with a vengeance,” he notes. Building up his expertise with volunteer stints at Amsterdam art houses and Skrien magazine, he eventually settled at what was then called Nederlands Filmmuseum (now EYE): “Because of the museum’s programming, I developed an interest in early cinema, nonfiction in particular – that is what made me want to work there,” he says.
His role as the institute’s first Collection Researcher was in keeping with the museum archives’ mission at the time: “the philosophy was that the archive’s perceived weakness, i.e. its lack of canonical and other titles that show up in every top 100, could be transformed into its strength.” He notes the works of programmers Eric de Kuyper and Peter Delpeut, who screened series of unknown materials from such silent film-era directors as Yevgeni Bauer, Franz Hofer, Alfred Machin and Leonce Perret, as well as expedition films of the 1920s and color-film tests of the 1910s. “As an archive, I think, we were one of the first in trying to put ‘peripheral’ topics center stage and open it to outside expertise and input,” he says.
Such measures included the creation of the Amsterdam Workshops, in which groups of 50 to 60 international archivists and scholars were invited to participate in discussions of materials and topics de Klerk researched— such as early nonfiction, colonial cinema, the program format, and advertising film. de Klerk would then create unique programs for the sessions. “That’s when I discovered the power and the effects of programming,” he says. The workshops were also intended to give participants an impetus to incorporate their experiences into their own professional lives.
de Klerk’s passion for the peripheral topics of cinema history extends to his interest in orphan films, which he attributes to his work with the EYE. Attending the first Orphan Film Symposium in 1999, de Klerk was unaware of the existing community of like-minded professionals with this interest. “You might say I worked on orphan films before I even knew the term and what it meant…that first symposium was a homecoming…what touched me was the devotion people displayed to those largely forgotten and unknown materials, the knowledge people had acquired about the stuff they showed and introduced, and – most of all – the democratic atmosphere, in that it didn’t matter whether you worked at Yale or UCLA or had a non-cinema day job and did your research in your spare time.”
With such a vested interest in the diversity of both archival holdings and the field itself, de Klerk argues that the greatest challenge facing the preservation community is conformity in programming – that the types of films featured in archival screenings are those that can be viewed at home. Such retrospectives are “predominantly based on a few principles – personality, nationality, genre…insofar these institutes have their own collections, only a fraction of their holdings are being presented.” de Klerk argues that the types of materials that belong to “the slow lane of film history” have been relegated to online exhibitions and presentations, despite the fact that many institutions may lack the resources for a proper online presence; further, these films were originally seen in a theatrical context in much the same way that some of the more retrospective-ready titles were. “I see no reason to relegate these materials to a mere digital life, certainly not when they are presented without any relevant form of contextualization,” he says. “If your mission is to present the heritage you are responsible for, it is imperative to find ways to meaningfully and imaginatively present all your holdings.”
The 2013 Orphans Midwest Film Symposium will be hosted at Indiana University Bloomington this week. For more information, including a full calendar of events, visit the Indiana University Cinema website.
Beneath the veneer of the seemingly idyllic 1950s America lay an undercurrent of social unrest, as postwar expectations of gender roles, particularly·in regards to receiving a university education, sought to reinforce traditions that had all but been upended in the previous decade. Prior to World War II, admissions at Indiana University Bloomington saw men outnumbering women three-to-one in the classroom. During wartime, women outnumbered men two-to-one.
Thanks to such measures as the G.I. Bill, the postwar years saw the majority male student population return to Indiana University, and images of female empowerment of the previous decade (perhaps best represented by the iconic Rosie the Riveter campaign) were replaced by images of docility, compliance, and traditional femininity, as women were once again being primed for futures as wives and mothers.
Your Daughter at I.U., a 1953 college recruitment video marketed toward the parents of prospective female students, serves as a striking representation of how gender roles were being negotiated in the postwar years. As the film’s (male) narrator cheerfully proclaims in its opening moments, “modern life is complex…to meet it, our daughters need a many sided-education.” The result of such a well-rounded education? “A woman may be the center of the home, bringing up a healthy, well-adjusted family in comfortable, attractive surroundings.”
The film’s exploration of career paths for Indiana University students highlights professions viewed as traditionally feminine – nurses, teachers, and other positions related to home economics and domestic work. The university is depicted as offering courses in “basic subjects” including “arts and crafts.” Further, such curriculum options are deemed necessary not for the student’s betterment, but for the eventual support of her husband and family: “[the woman] will do most of the family buying, and she will be her husband’s partner in major decisions; therefore, she must understand financial matters and how to deal with them.”
Yet Your Daughter at I.U.’ s representation of traditional gender roles was incongruous with notable campus developments of the time. Only one year before the film’s release, the Indiana Memorial Union Board began admitting women for the first time, despite the fact that the organization had been active since 1909. Also of note is the publication of Alfred Kinsey‘s controversialSexual Behavior in the Human Femalein 1953, which challenged conventional beliefs about female sexuality. The hiring of Eunice Roberts as Indiana University’s Assistant Dean of Faculties cemented the university’s status as one of the few colleges at the time employing a woman full-time to develop educational programs and services for women.
Such achievements in redefining gender norms were in direct contrast to university policy, which aggressively policed female students’ behavior. According to a 1947 social guidance booklet distributed by the university, female students were instructed to wear sweaters, skirts, ankle socks and loafers, and were forbidden from wearing slacks or shorts in the campus dining halls. Jeans were also prohibited save for a few exceptions – lounging on Saturdays, at hayrides, or at picnics. Further, the Association for Women Students published a yearly handbook of mandatory moral and social standards, guidelines that were perhaps best expressed in the curfew policy. Nightly curfews applied to all women, and expressly stated that women had to be in their dorms or houses by 10:30 p.m. Sunday through Thursday, and by 12:30 a.m. on weekends. Social Standards and House Regulations were distributed to dormitory residents in much the same way these other social guidance booklets were.
Arguably, the Indiana University of the 1950s was something of a microcosm of the United States at large, simultaneously reinforcing and questioning cultural expectations of gender roles, which would soon be on the cusp of significant transformation with the emergence of second-wave feminism in the early 1960s. Your Daughter at I.U. is an important work in understanding the intersection between conventional gender role expectations of the postwar era, how these expectations were reinforced in the context of receiving a university education, and perhaps most importantly, the gradual yet significant unrest in maintaining them.
After studying history and film at the University of East Anglia, Frick worked for the National Archives, Library of Congress, and Warner Bros., and ran the Film Preservation Festival for the AMC cable television network. She then moved to Austin, Texas where she earned her PhD in the Department of Radio-TV-Film at The University of Texas at Austin in 2005. While working on her PhD, Frick founded the Texas Archive of the Moving Image in 2002: “My educational and professional experiences contributed very much to starting a regional film archive; most importantly, the master’s program I attended was housed in a regional archive,” she says. Also influential in her decision to found TAMI was her work running the National Film Registry Tour for the Library of Congress, in which major Hollywood features were screened alongside more obscure footage produced within the state. “Many times, there were longer lines for local film events than Hollywood’s most famous titles” she says, before adding, “The US has an incredibly rich moving image history that is still undiscovered and unwritten. Industrial filmmaking, educational productions and advertising materials provide equally valuable insight to our historical past…by the time I got to Texas, I was primed and interested in this type of material. Texas is unique because it has been so highly profiled – often erroneously – in Hollywood films.” Frick’s work with TAMI blends both her personal and research interests in Hollywood history and local materials. For her academic research, she finds it fascinating “how different national or regional contexts have defined preservation –related terms and how different contexts have similarly or differently taken approaches to preserving materials.”
“What TAMI aspires to be is a hub to bring together people and organizations interested in ensuring long-term preservation and access to moving image,” she says, noting that the expense of preservation often ensures it remains a low priority. TAMI’s access-driven mission aims to raise awareness of the value of films in historical collections: “People need to see this material to understand the value of it,” Frick notes. “One of our current projects is to raise money to revamp the look of our curated collections, especially with an eye towards greater use by K-12 educaters and so-called ‘lifelong learners.’ There’s nothing more fulfilling than introducing our content to people who’ve never seen it or thought about it before – the realization in their eyes and the excitement.”
Outreach initiatives at TAMI include the Texas Film Round-Up, a free digitization service for any individual or organization with state-related audiovisual materials. Once digitized, the films are added to TAMI’s online library, and the supplying organization receives a copy as well as the original artifacts. A small museum exhibit denoting both the history of film and broadcasting in the region as well as preservation techniques travels with the program. The Texas Film Round-Up often screens collection material which helps dispel some of the erroneous notions people have of the state’s media history. “For example, a lot of people think of Texas film and think of Hollywood cowboys – our collection reveals so much more!” Frick notes.
Another initiative, Mess with Texas, is a collaborative effort between TAMI and Texas art museums, in which video artists are given audiovisual materials and encouraged to “mess with them.” The project’s name is a clever nod to the Don’t Mess with Texas environmental campaign.
Having served as President of the AMIA board since 2011, Frick sees her current roles within both TAMI and AMIA intersecting with one another: “Sometimes when you’re working on something that’s more narrowly focused with a refined, geographically-focused mission, it really helps to keep abreast of what’s happening on national and international levels…[AMIA gives us] a unique, level playing field for us to talk with one another.” As AMIA board members represent various components of the organization’s membership, “having a sense of where many of our different voices come from is quite helpful.”
Much like her work with TAMI, Frick wants to see AMIA work further to raise public awareness of the value of AV preservation. “The fantastic work of our members helps communicate to the public why [film archivists] are here, what we’re doing, and why it matters.” Last year’s beta test of the Festival of the Archives, in partnership with the Seattle International Film Festival, helped raise awareness of the preservation efforts undertaken by media archives around the country; it’s something Frick hopes to see continue in the future. “Just because you turn on the television and you see a black and white movie doesn’t mean it’s going to be there forever…ultimately, we try to keep material alive for as long as possible.”
Frick argues that, as the preservation field continues to grow and evolve, with formats becoming increasingly obsolete, “there’s going to be more awareness over time for the need of this kind of work, coming from a variety of different sectors.” Frick hopes that AMIA will continue to bring together divergent voices from a number of professional settings, but remarks that engaging with diverse groups can sometimes be a challenge: “What I fear is the increased tension between those who are very much dedicated to conservation of film material and those who are advocating for constant migration of data. (i.e., what do we prioritize, content vs. carrier?) My biggest hope is to see that all of us are talking about the same thing.”
Despite the challenges ahead, Frick argues that “there’s no better time to get involved with the media preservation community. There are so many exciting opportunities developing in so many different sectors if one is open to the ways audiovisual preservation can be defined.”
Started as a “weekend hobby” in 1987 by husband and wife team Dennis Doros and Amy Heller, Milestone Films has since become a renowned distributor and preserver of classic film, documentaries, and independent cinema. “We are not always prudent and we are hardly ever commercial, but we pride ourselves on being passionate, ridiculously over-researched and persnickety about sound and image quality,” Heller says.
Doros’ involvement in preservation began while employed at Kino International, during which time he oversaw the restorations of silent films Queen Kelly and Sadie Thompson. Heller, who studied labor history at Yale, entered the field after working for First Run Features, an independent distribution company that carries social and historical documentaries. Having worked together for three years on a series of film restorations they later named “The Age of Restoration,” Doros and Heller founded Milestone in 1990 after discovering that other distribution entities were not interested in releasing the films.
At Milestone, experience and availability factor into the decision-making process for preservation and distribution, but often, personal interests serve as the biggest motivator. Heller says, “I think that one aspect of [our] mission that I especially love is the way our work really sets out to and does mess with the established film canon. I grew up knowing that ‘the personal is political’ and I really enjoy extending that mantra to include our acquisition and distribution decisions. We love helping critics, audiences and historians rediscover the neglected films of women, African American and other great independent filmmakers. To our delight, we have seen our film releases change the way current filmmakers work and the contents of cinema textbooks.” She adds, “and for 23 years, we have asked film friends for their favorite ‘lost’ or unavailable films and tried to follow up to find those missing treasures.”
Doros, who was voted to the Board of Directors of the Association of Moving Image Archivists in 2008, notes that making connections with others in the field “[has] led to a lot of our acquisitions. We have experienced amazing generosity from our friends (especially with bonus features) that have greatly enhanced our love for the field – and our company’s reputation. The friends we have met and the support of the archives and archivists is really important to us.” As a rule of thumb, Milestone preserves films that can be seen many times (“because that is what is required for successful distribution,” Heller says), that actively work as cinema (incorporating the tools of the camera, movement, sound, and editing), and that tell a story or retell history from an underrepresented viewpoint. “Films from the past often have an emotional and political power that is just amazing. I love when we can re-discover, restore and release films that still speak to audiences today,” Heller says.
Also important to distribution is selecting cover art for Milestone DVD releases, which are designed by Scott Meola of Simplissimus and Adrian Rothschild, the latter of whom recently designed the company’s Portrait of Jason poster. Heller notes, “I admit to being crazy about fonts and design – both offer extremely economical means of conveying a great deal about a film. We frequently consult our library of books of poster and design art from around the world to focus in on the style and typefaces from the time the film was made. Fortunately, our designers have always welcomed this kind of input and have worked with us to create title treatments and art that reflect the film’s content, style and time.”
Though Milestone employed up to six staff members during the 1990s, these days Doros and Heller are its only full-time employees. “A few years back, we realized that with the film industry shrinking, it was necessary to cut back so we could continue to distribute the films we loved and afford to properly restore them,” Doros notes, before adding, “the hours really suck.”
Milestone offers paid summer internships to students, some of whom continue to work for the company after graduation. “These terrific young people have brought great energy and expertise,” Heller says. While Doros admits he’s not sure about the future of film preservation, he notes “there are many positive signs and that’s primarily the incredible students who are coming into the field these days. They have the training, the maturity and the knowledge that few of my generation or the previous generations had entering into film.”
Doros considers the company’s longevity its greatest achievement to date. “Many other distributors have come and gone and by working out of our house and keeping our salaries low, we’ve been able to contribute to the archives while making a living…we are fervent believers in promoting the work of the archives and archivists as well as the films they allow us distribute. Milestone still has a devotion to preserving film as film.”
For many years, Dino Everett spent his time as a touring punk rock musician, but in the back of his mind were a love of movies and his grandfather’s stories of the silent films he had watched as a child – films that were no longer accessible. After reading Tony Slide’s Nitrate Won’t Wait in the early 1990s, Everett decided to act on his lifelong interest in film and join the archival field in earnest.
Everett’s longtime interest and involvement in punk rock subculture helped inform his work in the audiovisual preservation field. “I look at everything through punk rock eyes and believe that you can do a lot of good with very little, that DIY ethic,” he explains. This DIY ethic is evident in Everett’s current role as the Archivist of the Hugh M. Hefner Moving Image Archive at USC. After working as an Acquisitions Agent for the UCLA Film and Television Archive for seven years, during which time he implemented changes that enabled safer flatbed scanning access to film prints, Everett accepted the position with USC in 2010. “My job at USC is really the perfect environment for someone like me who has many different interests in the field. One day I get to work on physical film or technology preservation and the next I get to research aspects of the collection and the history of the school…the sky is really the limit.”
Currently, Everett is working to preserve a number of previously-unseen USC student horror shorts produced in the 1960s by such filmmakers as John Carpenter and Dan O’Bannon. He hopes to compile these films into a feature-length program titled “Shock Value: The Movie – How Dan O’Bannon and some USC Outsiders Helped Influence Modern Horror.” The project, based on Jason Zinoman’s book Shock Value: How a Few Eccentric Outsiders Gave Us Nightmares, Conquered Hollywood, and Invented Modern Horror, is something he hopes to have touring beginning in October 2014. “I figure this could be a great way to raise the awareness of our archive and what we do here, by making these 40 year-old short films into a modern-day product, that I believe all fans of genre films will be interested in.” He adds: “It would be like putting out of a CD of Beatles demos.”
Speaking of outreach, Everett is keen to collaborate with other schools and departments at USC: “Every library and special collection has moving images, and often they are unsure of how to take care of them or transfer them for access, so I try to reach out and let them all know that we are here to help them as well.” Additionally, he extends his outreach efforts to students of both USC’s School of Cinematic Arts and UCLA’s Moving Image Archival Studies program, having set up a workstation that allows him to give students hands-on training with preservation equipment. “I also try to take our equipment out to as many places [as I can] and do live demonstrations for students in various USC cinema and communications classes, such as hand-cranking an old 35mm silent film, or the sound on disc, kodacolor, etc.”
Everett’s outreach initiatives also extend to smaller local entities, such as the Echo Park Film Center and Film Forum, in efforts to make USC’s holdings more freely accessible. “To me, access is the absolute most important facet of the field. If someone is researching something, then I will go out of my way to make sure they get access to the material they need. You’d be surprised how many preserved films are not accessible to researchers.” Citing Penelope Houston’s Keepers of the Frame, in which the author notes that “restoration is seen as a somewhat pointless activity if it does not involve putting the film back into circulation,” Everett argues that how the preservation community treats access is in dire need of change, especially given the rise of digital formats and how bureaucracy often makes access a low priority. “The entire reason archives exist is not simply to protect the material, but to get it back into the hands of the public in some way. If we don’t, then it may as well have deteriorated. If we take a punk rock attitude, then we are not afraid to invoke such change.”
That same punk DIY ethic Everett exhibits in his professional life also extends to his personal interests, which include collecting film equipment. “My personal quirks tend to lead me in the direction of the failed or not-as-popular things in life,” he notes, citing his interest in silent film stars such as the Hall Room Boys, Roland West, Glenn Tyron, and Walter Forde, performers who are far from household names in the vein of Fairbanks or Pickford. His interest in “the outliers,” as he calls them, led to amassing a collection of equipment such as 9.5 mm, 4.75 mm, 22 mm, and 28 mm film formats. “Next year I plan on making, shooting, processing and then exhibiting some 3 mm film since I have the only equipment that exists in the world.” Everett notes the importance of recognizing and sharing the diversity of film formats, especially in a time in which said diversity is becoming more and more obsolete. “I like thinking of the days in the 1960s and 1970s when an amateur cinematographer had close to 10 format options available to them. Now, you are going to be left with one, which to me does not inspire much creativity.”
Utilization of these diverse older technologies is something Everett hopes to see more of in the preservation field. “We are keepers of history and that needs to be exhibited…the content was once everything because the carrier seemed universal, but now that the carrier is being changed I believe it should become part of the preservation.” Another project he is currently working on is a documentary about early cinema technologies; it involves the re-creation of a film from 1910, using a preserved Pathé 35mm Cinématographe as a reference point. “A well-known Hollywood cinematographer is working with me and he is going to shoot the film using this 100 year-old technology…[the documentary will] show the obstacles faced back in the day with the limitations of the camera, but also [will] prove how well-made these things were that you can still use them 100 years later.”
In reflecting on a career that combines his numerous interests, Everett remarks, “My best and worst trait is my passion for both the field and the work. It gets me in trouble sometimes because the punk rocker in me makes me stand up and shout my opinion, and let’s face it, opinions are not always facts. If I am ever able to make a tiny mark on this field I would hope it would be in a fashion where deep down, people would know that I do everything I do simply because of a never-ending passion for this field.”
Never-ending passion: punk DIY ethos at its finest.