
Since Burbank’s still a movie town we thought we’d post this recent worthy late-night outpouring from filmmaker Fred Camper on Facebook.
There’s a lot to digest and we agree/relate to all of it. He usefully gathers together what things have gotten to be about now art and media-wise…
NOW I SPEAK AS AN ARTIST IN A VERY LONG RANT WHICH YOU SHOULD FEEL FREE TO IGNORE
Lately I have let my sleep patterns fall into something I know to be unhealthy, becoming very irregular. It’s 3 AM. I fell asleep at my desk a few hours ago, a “skill” I have only acquired with age, and now I will resume work on editing one of my “little fillums” (length ranging from ten seconds to fifteen minutes), for another hour or so, and this particular hour of working seems to have been a good idea: I am discovering an appetite for what feels like a productive strangeness in my choices of the last shots and edits in this current project that I hadn’t found earlier. Maybe I should explain that my raw footage to final film ratio is something like 20 to 1, and for this film, more like 40 to 1.
In the editing process for this one, which for the record will be titled “Revisits 4 (9 10 11),” I wanted to check a single shot in a different completed and posted work from over two years ago, an “Interactions,” and once again became irrationally annoyed and even enraged by Vimeo, even though I am quite happy with most of its services. I could have checked this in my own files, of course, but Vimeo was a little quicker in this case for reasons I don’t need to go into.
When I joined Vimeo three years ago, finding the films I had posted was a matter of clicking on “My Library.” That seemed OK. But at some point they changed it, and now I have to click on “Team Library.”
I have increasingly noticed a totalitarianism, not of the prison-and-torture variety but very pernicious nonetheless, creeping into the world as presented to us by our tech overlords, Microsoft and Google and Facebook and even Vimeo. “Team” is part of their ideology. A friend who is almost as much of a loner as I am and who has worked for a large corporation for decades, but entirely from home since the pandemic, has told me that a common corporate mantra, the overly cute “There’s no ‘I’ in “team,'” is repeatedly featured in his company’s communications. This is presumably one of those business ideologies that managements want to impose on their subjects, but it doesn’t really apply to the way he works — and to the way they let him work. He doesn’t *have* to keep working, he could retire, and he has expected for years for them to “retire” him as they keep cutting jobs from his department, but they must value his work because they don’t, and yet he still has to be subjected to this nonsense.
In my case, I live alone. I have dear friends around the US, and in Europe and Brazil, who I stay in touch with by email. In recent years, I have visited almost all of them. That’s what I really want to do with friends. Their friendships have long helped keep me alive. In that sense, they have been my “team” for almost forever. Only four or so now live in my city, Chicago. Only about three times have I asked anyone to see and comment on one of my films while I was working on it. There are 39 films now, with more done or almost done but not yet released. It is part of my “method” that I make them in solitude. I sit alone at my desk, the same desk I have carried from apartment to apartment for fifty-four years, which consists of a large thick flat door stretched across two shelving units, in a small apartment that no one is invited to visit, partly by design and preference, also because the place is a cluttered mess, but also also because I find solitude to be highly productive. I choose my subjects without any consultation with others; my budget is zero since I own the needed equipment, though sometimes some plane fare and even hotel rooms are required. I shoot and edit myself. Thus, I never have to “pitch” anything, nor ever reveal my plans. I have never used a single shot filmed by someone else, though a few are refilmed by me from other imagery.
About four of these films include friends as subjects, and in those cases they do collaborate, but are asked to do so only by being themselves, not as part of any “team,” and have chosen to agree to this. A few friends who have refused to be filmed remain dear friends. I seek no advice in editing. There are methods I use in editing that I may eventually reveal, but have not chosen to do so in the three years since I began. I use no scripts. My films are all silent.
I fully recognize that in some ways my complaint is completely idiotic; so what if Vimeo wants to imply that my works were made by a “team.” In other ways it seems proper to me to consider having the word “team” imposed as a descriptor to be horrible, almost as bad as when the notifications Vimeo sends me that I have a new follower suggest that I post more “content,” or urge me to “continue to give the people what they want.” The consumerism of that last suggestion is apocalyptically disgusting.
No one has to agree with my reactions here, of course, but I report them as my true responses which suggest to me everything that is wrong with our current culture. None of the art that I most love, the transcendent masterpieces that over the course a lifetime have made me who I am, in classical music, painting, literature, architecture, and among the greatest of films, which for me include “Genroku Chushingura,” four by Peter Kubelka, “Eniaios,” Rossellini’s “India,” “Au Hasard Balthazar,” Brakhage’s “Arabics,” and Ford’s “The Sun Shines Bright,” have ever given me what I “want.” I never knew when I was brought to ecstasy by these monuments to human possibility that what they did to me would be what I “wanted,” because I had not begun to imagine what they would do. Instead of meeting or exceeding my “expectations” (to repeat another phrase too commonly used), they gave me something I had not previously dreamed of. That was their whole f****** meaning. Many were indeed made by “teams,” but even those sure as hell didn’t look like it.
I admit to being ludicrously over-sensitive about this, but on the other hand maybe I should be. It somehow feels right and even helpful that I feel outraged every time I have to click on “Team Library.” No one else has ever had my password. I do not have a “team.” I don’t object in the slightest that other artists will. There are no rules for how to make the best art, but I choose to work the way I always have since I finished editing my first film in 16mm in an all-nighter having just turned 19. Oh well, I feel better for having written this, and now it’s 4:50 in the morning, which seems like exactly the right time for this sort of extreme rant. And it feels good to rage against something other than T, while at the same time feeling that the near-terminal mental illness he has been imposing on the whole world is not totally unrelated to what I object so passionately to in my own small way.
If you read this through to the end, preferably at 5:20 AM, well, thank you very much.
