Tuesday 9 October 2012

Tuesday 9th October

The day started at sunrise. Stanley Park is a truly gorgeous spot in Vancouver and running around the sea wall is fabulous 10 mile run. It would be too easy on these trips to eat, work and sleep so you have to squeeze in exercise whenever possible.  Golf's my thing but the courses were too far and too expensive so running was the alternative.  This really is a great city and the backdrop of mountains is special.  That said, it wasn't long before I was back on the computer doing the endless stream of emails and then into the cinema for the second of the Vancouver International Film Festival screenings of Haydn... 


Another busy show. Only about 3900 years to go if I want to reach the entire North American population at this rate.  At least I know there will always be a huge pool of folk who haven't seen the film and, with encouragement and access, would like to.  Compare that to the US Presidential Debate last night between Romney & Obama.
Guess how many folk in the US are said to have watched that?  Go on, guess.....67 million!  A good figure for a show in the UK (and a rare figure too) is 10 million - it just shows what a vast continent this is. 

I left Vancouver today and had a stunning left-side window seat all the way down the Pacific Coast to LA...Snow-peaked mountains, endless hills and valleys.  Then if there is a city that illustrates size, it's LA! Flying over its endless suburbs, you marvel at how they bring water to every household, how those millions eat every day, commute, entertain themselves and so on. Simply boggling. My trip to LA allowed me to escape this craziness within the LA Philharmonic and the ceaseless wonders of Beethoven's 3rd piano concerto (played by Leif Ove Andsnes and the LA Phil, conducted by Gustavo Dudamel). Even though I was filming it and thus busy, I wasn't so distracted that I failed to appreciate the genius of the composer and the expertise of these performers.  Outside the Walt Disney Concert Hall, late on a Saturday night, the streets were full of revellers, flashing police cars and the homeless bedding down where-ever warmth could be found.  What a city.  I didn't have much time to explore though as an early flight next day took me to NY and then a speedy train to Washington DC the day after that.  It was an endless movie out of the windows. There is so much to admire in this country, not least the landscapes which tend to get ignored a little in favour of cityscapes. I'm looking forward to my tour in March when I'll get to drive to 10 or 20 cities.  And then there will only be another 3899 years left before as many people have watched In Search of Beethoven / Mozart / Haydn as watched Mitt Romney threaten to kill Big Bird.

Wednesday 3 October 2012

Monday 1st October

He only had to hit a little white ball into a hole not more than a few feet away.  Six feet to be precise.  He looked at it. Studied the angles. Did his preparation. Studied the angles again. Stood over the ball again. It’s not too much to say it was a putt to win, in my view, the Ryder Cup. He paused. The American Jim Furyk felt the gaze of millions of telespectators from the around the world. He already saw himself punching the air in celebration as the putt dropped into the hole. He looked up one last time. He hit the ball. It missed. Not long after, Europe won the most remarkable come-back I’ve seen since last May when the even more remarkable last minute goal by Sergio Aguero won (and deservingly so) Man City the English Premier League.  These are such fine lines between success and failure. A fraction of an inch on a putting green. A fraction of an inch on a football pitch. The penalty missed, the smash over-hit, the hurdle not quite cleared.  And there’s no going back. 

Right now, I am en route to Vancouver, one of my favourite cities in the world and home to a wonderful film festival (VIFF).  With three or four festivals on at any one time somewhere in the world, there are a tremendous amount of festivals out there. In the past few weeks, I have turned down trips to various places including Sardinia (SIEFF) which is a bit of a shame as not only have I always wanted to go there and THE BOY MIR won the top prize there.  Vancouver is one of the best festivals I’ve ever been to and I’ll be introducing IN SEARCH OF HAYDN. It will be fun to watch the film too as I have been tremendously busy on IN SEARCH OF CHOPIN for the past few months.   Both Haydn and Chopin share something with those golfers, footballers and tennis players.  They both experienced moments of fortune that carried their lives in one direction, when it could so easily have been another.  Too often I read suggestions that somehow they were pre-destined to be such successful artists.  It just ain’t so.  I’ve found that their lives – and the lives of all creative folk – have many moments of good fortune without which it’s plausible they quite simply would not have reached these heady heights.  Last week I spent a few long, tough but highly rewarding days in France filming for the Chopin film.  I finally feel I’m getting to know him and identify what parts of his story need to be told in a film.  Two days of walking Paris with my camera & tripod took me to all the spots he lived in and some he played at.

Then a three-hour drive south to the wonderful house he shared for seven summers with his partner, the female author George Sand.  The interiors there are fantastically well-preserved: it feels as if Chopin has just popped out for a walk. Finally therefore I start to get a sense of the man.  More importantly, I increasingly grasp his period of history, without which there can be no real understanding. How many other fine musicians and composers lie unrecognised because they remained in dour courts, or died early of smallpox, or ran out of money and changed careers?  Hadyn has moments of absolute fortune. Chopin absolutely did too. Sometimes, you have to be plain lucky.  The trick though is to practice twelve hours a day to make yourself lucky.  And then have the self-awareness to know when you’ve been lucky and to make the most of it. I’m lucky: I moan about lack of funding but I’ve just spent a week filming in France on a subject I love and now, tonight, I’ll screen a film I’m proud of to a sell-out audience in a city I find exhilarating.  Later this week I’ll be filming a Beethoven concert at the LA Philharmonic with Gustavo Dudamel and Leif Ove Andsnes. I’ve worked hard to be lucky but lucky I am.

Monday 10 September 2012

Monday 10th September - Real Clear Arts

I get up early. Really early sometimes. I have bundles of energy for the day – and then, whoosh, it’s midnight. How does that happen? Along the way, I am bombarded with information. I once read that a study showed we receive 10,000 attempts a day to get our attention – from advertisements, emails, tweets, whatever it might be. 10,000. At least. In the mix are the endless cyberspace twitterings and mumblings. Of which this blog is of course one! How do you decide whom to read, whom to pay attention to? I stopped my twitter account as it was frankly an invitation to read drivel – and not only my own…. Do people actually talk to one another any more? Are we all so vain that we want our views to be heard and read by the entire world? Why, indeed, am I writing this blog? Well, meat for a discussion another day maybe but the point I wanted to get to is that I have found one (arts) blog which is tremendous and absolutely worthy of your time and sign-up. It comes from New York-based Judith Dobrzynski. Here are a couple of examples. Her tag is REAL CLEAR ARTS.

by Judith H. Dobrzynski
I met the critic Robert Hughes only once, and had no intention of writing about his death until I read a couple of his obituaries, which mostly ignored or belittled one of the things I admired about him. The New York Times didn't mention it, neither did Time magazine's main piece (there's apparently a separate story behind the paywall), and the Wall Street Journal, referring to a review of a book Hughes wrote, faulted him for it.

It was not his writing - everyone recognized his high style - or his eye, which agree with or not, signaled a distinct and definite taste, backed by erudition. No, I liked Hughes because he believed that American Art was/is underrated and did something about that - making an eight-part public television series called "American Visions" in 1998. That's when I interviewed him.

My piece, A Critic Distills American Art into Eight Hours, describes the grueling work that went into the series, which was produced with comparatively little money given its ambitions; the accompanying 648-page book; and a special issue of Time magazine, where he was then critic (here's an index to his work there). (Can you imagine Time putting out a special issue on art today?) Here's an excerpt from my article:

...they filmed at more than 100 locations from Maine to Malibu -- without the Hollywood conveniences.

"Whenever I'd see movie crews in SoHo, with their mobile toilets and makeup vans, I'd get jealous," Mr. Hughes recounted. "Our makeup van was carried by a production assistant in her handbag. And when I was dripping in sweat, someone would produce a ratty package of Kleenex."

The sheer volume of work was a bigger strain, threatening Mr. Hughes's marriage and sending him to a psychiatrist for the first time. "After finishing the series about a year ago, I had severe depression," he said. He blamed overwork, a crisis of confidence and postpartum blues.

Yet with deadlines for the book and then the bonus magazine looming, plus the reviews he writes for Time, there was no time to wallow. Sticking to a schedule he used on the road while writing the scripts, Mr. Hughes got up daily at 4 or 5 A.M. to churn out as many as 3,000 words a day.

"I nearly went bats having to write the book at such speed," he said, dressed in blue jeans and a button-down blue shirt in his loft, which is chockablock with books and papers but devoid of art...

I can attest -- 3,000 words a day is a lot; 3,000 good words is really a lot. But Hughes wanted the accolades his writing provoked:

Mr. Hughes has been noted for his idiosyncratic, nothing-is-sacred willingness to take on both the academically and politically correct, as well as for his vivid, irreverent language: when he says something clever, he will often stop to savor it and to make sure it has been recognized.

Over the years, it has been. Many deem him the most successful art critic today. In profiles and reviews of his books, writers have called him -- besides the apt "ever voluble" -- "erudite," "famously pugnacious," "brilliantly destructive," "consistently entertaining," "sardonic," "pontificating" and a string of other colorful adjectives.

He is certainly "Nothing if Not Critical," the title of his last book about art, a collection of his essays. In them, for example, he disparages the importance of Andy Warhol (on whom he has since mellowed) and taken many contemporary artists down a peg, including David Salle, Eric Fischl and Louise Bourgeois.

Hughes told me then that he wanted to make what became "American Visions" as soon as he finished his more renowned "The Shock of the New" television series -- which was broadcast in 1981. It took him until 1992 to enlist a backer -- the BBC, not PBS, which added to the BBC funding, did Time, later.

Hughes told me much more in the course of our interview, worth reading if you appreciate Hughes -- which artists he regrets leaving out, how he filmed at Monticello, why producers changed locations between 2 p.m. and 4 p.m., why he tied his choices to the land, and so on.

It's worth reading, actually, even if you don't like Hughes, and many people don't. Even his detractors, however, agree that he made people go look at art, which is a good thing.

Chasing Audiences: Too Much Emphasis On Youth?
by Judith H. Dobrzynski

It's pretty obvious that museums -- and most other places as well -- chase the young. They see gray hair in their galleries and fear that no one will rpelace them if they don't do something about it NOW.

I've always had some doubt about that -- many people, I believe, don't have the time for art or the inclination for it until they reach a certain age, which -- anecdotally -- seems to be somewhere in the 40s, give or take, after most people's children have developed some independence.

Now comes a survey which agrees that society is too youth-obsessed. According to a firm called Euro RSCG Worldwide, which survey people in 19 countries, "63% of consumers around the world believe that society's obsession with youth has gotten out of hand." Results in the U.S. clocked in at exactly 63%, though the response ranged from 78% in Colombia to 45% in Belgium.

"Interestingly," an article on Marketing Charts said, "this view is shared by 6 in 10 Millennials (aged 18-34)."

7,213 adults took part in the survey, but ages were not stated in the report, nor was the margin of error.

This survey was more about aging itself -- e.g., "55% of the respondents said they look younger than most people their age" -- than it was about choices. But it still makes me wonder. Older people -- and here I mean 40s and above -- seem to resent the attention given to young people, even perhaps at some museums. Museums have to deal with that, making sure that they present a balance of activities and, with luck, a lot of programming that appeals to all ages.

I really love it when I go, say, to the Frick or the Morgan and see people of all ages. And I dislike it when I see costume exhibitions full of young people who never set foot in art exhibitions. Likewise, with diverse audiences for both, say, Jacob Lawrence and, say, Titian.



Friday 7 September 2012

Friday 7th September - Feeling reflective

‘How was your summer?’ ‘Great, we went to France, Spain, Italy, Thailand…’. Kids well, work OK, sun shining, loving the Olympics and Paralympics…. Life’s good. Do we all know how lucky we are? I often think the greatest lesson I have learned from filming in India, Nigeria, Afghanistan, Angola and so on is just how extraordinarily fortunate I am – and how most of you too. We don’t spend hours collecting water from streams; we don’t eat a meagre diet; we can get on planes; we can go on holiday and laze on a beach; our kids don’t die of diarrhoea. Why am I a bit reflective today? I get the daily news reports out of Afghanistan – and it’s hard to bear. A war – and it is a war – that barely gets a mention in the US elections (how must you feel if you are the family of a US service-person in Afghanistan??). A war that, daily, kills and maims. The following is one random report that, like many others, touched and saddened me. I was in New Zealand earlier this year screening my Haydn and my Mir films. Such a beautiful country – and so far from Afghanistan. How did those Kiwi soldiers feel flying away from their homeland on a great, scary adventure? Excited? Reluctant? Scared? I’m sure, once they got there, they soon fell in love with the landscape and the people. And there they died.


The three New Zealand soldiers killed in Afghanistan last Sunday have been welcomed home in a ramp ceremony, with a memorial service to follow at Burnham.

An all-female group of army pallbearers carried the body of Lance Corporal Jacinda Baker off an air force Hercules, in a poignant ramp ceremony at Christchurch airport. Lance Cpl Baker, 26, an army medic from Christchurch, was the first female New Zealand soldier killed in a combat zone since the Vietnam War when a roadside bomb killed her, Corporal Luke Tamatea, 31, and Private Richard Harris, 21, last Sunday in Afghanistan. A guard of honour greeted the Hercules carrying their bodies as it touched down on Thursday afternoon. Soldiers, chaplains and close family boarded the plane to pay their respects privately. As the caskets were carried off to hearses soldiers performed a haka. The three soldiers killed on Sunday were part of the 140-strong New Zealand Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT) in Bamyan province. Two weeks earlier two other PRT members Lance Corporals Rory Malone and Pralli Durrer, both 26, were killed in a firefight in the same northeast area of the province. Chief of Army Major General Tim Keating said he was privileged to stand beside the families of Cpl Tamatea, Lance Cpl Baker and Pte Harris, and "honour their sacrifice with the dignity and respect they deserve". "I pay tribute to their selfless courage and sacrifice that they have made in the name of world peace," Maj Gen Keating said. Allied commanders, including US chairman of the joint chiefs of staff General Martin E Dempsey and commander of the International Security Assistance Force General John R Allen, were among those to farewell the three New Zealanders this week at a ramp ceremony at Bagram air base.

Final arrangements are being made for a memorial service expected to be on Saturday at Burnham Military Camp. The families are expected to hold private funeral services later next week.

Thursday 30 August 2012

The Art of Filmaking - Interview with Phil Grabsky (by Michael Fox - Fandor.com)

The Art of Filmmaking: Phil Grabsky

Searching out stories as well as audiences for conscientious nonfiction features, Phil Grabsky, one-man documentary band, plays a rare tune.


By Michael Fox

The prolific British documentary filmmaker Phil Grabsky must surely be the hardest-working man in the movie business. The veteran director of the much-loved In Search of… films about classical music titans Mozart, Beethoven and Haydn always seems to be in production on one ambitious film while developing at least two equally daunting projects as follow-ups. He goes to extraordinary lengths for his historical documentaries, and chooses the rockiest path for social-issue docs such as The Boy Who Plays on the Buddhas of Bamiyan (2003) and its acclaimed sequel The Boy Mir—Ten Years in Afghanistan (2011). Grabsky also authored Great Artists, I, Caesar and The Great Commanders, which accompanied his various nonfiction TV series. He recently produced Leonardo Live, a tour of the National Gallery exhibit “Leonardo da Vinci: Painter at the Court of Milan” beamed via satellite to hundreds of theaters around the world. Somehow he still makes time for barnstorming tours to cities and theaters far from his native Sussex. I caught up with him on a spring afternoon at a Chinese restaurant in San Francisco’s Richmond District, midway between the Marin County town of Larkspur where he’d screened In Search of Haydn the previous night and San Francisco International Airport. Grabsky spoke at length about the financial travails of documentary filmmakers and the decline of television.

Michael Fox: Let’s start with your approach to profiling late, great composers.

Phil Grabsky: It’s very hard to get screenings for films about classical composers, unless you dramatize it, and you do something like [Rene Feret’s 2011 feature] Mozart’s Sister. But I’m frustrated with [those films]. First, they’re very expensive and secondly, they’re full of inaccuracies. Amadeus is one of my favorite films but it’s not Mozart. It’s not about Mozart, it’s about Salieri, and the burden of mediocrity and what it’s like trying to be a great something or other and someone else comes along who seems to have it as a gift of nature. So of course when [playwright and screenwriter Sir Peter] Shaffer writes it, he exaggerates and highlights. That’s not Mozart. Mozart was a highly serious, highly determined, very commercial animal.



Anyway, so what was great about Chicago was there was a cinema that said, ‘We’ll give it a go.’ And it ran and ran and ran, and when I turned up, it was full audiences, extremely enthusiastic audiences. Lots of DVD sales. All this kind of thing. And you think, ‘You know what? There is an audience out there.’ Forget what television says about no one’s interested in this kind of stuff. All those cinemas who say, ‘Oh, we don’t think people are going to come and see a film about [Mozart].’ The same thing last night, in the Lark cinema. Fantastic. Virtually sold out. Very enthusiastic. They’ll have me back anytime. Certainly where I work, in classical music, arts films, it’s a real struggle getting that in cinemas. And also I do social docs, I’ve just done this one about this boy in Afghanistan [The Boy Mir—Ten Years in Afghanistan], so these are the toughest areas, in a way. What’s frustrating for me, as a filmmaker, is when the audiences see them, they really like them. There’s nothing so-so about it; they really like them. So it’s like, ‘Well, why won’t the cinemas…?’ That was a big release.

Fox: People come to nonfiction from all sorts of disciplines. Do you have a law background, or journalism, or history, or social work, or perhaps painting?

Grabsky: I made my first film when I was very young. I’m always interested in historical context of, say, great composers, because I know how important it was to me. I was always interested in photography, and I remember having a fight with my school. My school wanted me to try for Oxford or Cambridge to do English. I’m like, ‘No, I want to be a photographer.’ ‘No, no, no, you gotta go—‘ Anyway, I got into photographic college. But when I went there they said, ‘You know, we think you would benefit from a year off.’ For various reasons they said that, so I went to visit my brother, who at that time was in India. When I got there he said, ‘Look, you can only stay two weeks as my visa’s running out’—I thought I was going for six months. He said, ‘So we’ll go to one place, we’ll go to the north to Dharamshala where the Tibetans live.’ I said, ‘Who are the Tibetans?’ So we went up and I immediately got to know about the Tibetans and about the Dalai Lama. I thought, ‘This is an extraordinary story. I didn’t know this.’ And I’d been to a good school, you know. I thought, ‘I don’t know how I would do this photographically. I’d need audio to tell this story.’ So when I went back to my photographic college, I swapped to film. And during those three years, apart from learning my course, I made a film about the Dalai Lama and Tibet. And it was competently made and it sold to television. And then the TV channel asked us to make another film, and I needed a limited company, an incorporated company, to sign the contract. So in 1985, I became an independent producer, age 22.

Now bear in mind that the reason I’d chosen this course was because there were three courses in Britain where you got a union card at the end of them. Without a union card you didn’t work. And in those three years [at photographic school], [then-Prime Minister Margaret] Thatcher, who is not someone I particularly look up to, but for good and ill she completely changed that, and basically destroyed the union. This is also the time that Channel 4 started in the UK, and we had three channels. Channel 4 came along and their remit, their directive, was ‘you only use independent producers. You don’t have any in-house team.’ Which, of course, was the way BBC and ITV did it.

I’ve always been interested in documentaries. I’m not interested in drama. I mean, it’s fun on occasion when for a documentary I’ve had a set, and we’ve done some reconstruction with ancient warriors. People dressed as Romans and stuff. It’s fun to do, but I like telling stories about real people. I did a lot of history in the ’90s for the BBC, usually co-produced with either A&E or the Discovery Channel. I, Caesar, a six-part series on the rise and fall of the Roman Empire. That was three years’ work, every day. Every single day, ‘cause I did a book as well. You probably know, a book’s twice as much work as any TV program. And then lots of history programs with Terry Jones, again shown here [in the U.S.] on Discovery. Around about 2000 I was getting a bit frustrated with broadcast because they were getting less—I mean, you can see what Discovery is like now, and A&E. I switched on the TV last night, and I just happened to switch onto a program which was called 1000 Ways to Die. Rock ‘n’ roll music and graphics and they were going on about this guy—I don’t know if he died or not, but there was a shot of him basically covered in sand because he was unloading sand from a lorry and it had fallen on him. ‘The sand crushes your lungs so you’re asphyxiated.’ This is a guy dying. Whether he died or not, I’m not sure. That’s where TV’s gone, you know. TV now celebrates going into people’s lockers, and let’s look through their stuff to see what it’s worth. Ten years ago, there were people at Discovery who were interested in making films about Rome or Egypt.


Fox: I’m a staunch supporter of showing and seeing movies in theaters. But isn’t television, despite your understandable pessimism about its current state, still the best weapon and the best outlet you have?

Grabsky: Television is still the mass medium and I hold television to account for a number of social problems that we have. I think television has abdicated its public and social responsibilities in many ways. I think you can be entertaining and also be socially and morally responsible. Let’s take The Boy Mir—Ten Years in Afghanistan. I could make an argument why I think every single person on the planet should watch that film. If you’re interested in the world you have to be interested right now in Afghanistan, and if you’re interested in Afghanistan you have to be interested in the Afghan people. Who are the Afghan people? What are their concerns? I would say my film is relatively unique. I haven’t seen too many films which go inside an Afghan family. There’ve been lots of films, decent films, about the experience of American troops, French troops, British troops. There’ve been one or two about the Afghan cricket team or an Afghan beauty parlor.

Fox: Weren’t they Afghan refugees in Michael Winterbottom’s narrative feature In This World?

Grabsky: Yeah, they were. But you don’t really get a sense of—all you know about Afghanistan is poverty and/or perhaps the Taliban. The Boy Mir, people who’ve lived in Afghanistan and even Afghans say, ‘We’ve never seen inside an Afghan family like this.’ Now, ultimately the best way of me getting that message across is television. And I’ve worked really, really hard. We have had a lot of television screenings. Japan, Germany, France, Britain, Sweden, Norway, Switzerland, Austria. We cannot get an American screening. I thought I was going to get a ‘P.O.V.’ screening. Then I thought we’d get an ‘Independent Lens’ screening. And they both only recently turned me down saying, ‘We prefer to concentrate on the American experience in Afghanistan.’ Same with In Search of Beethoven. The audience last night was stunned when I was explaining it to them that PBS said, ‘We really like the Beethoven film but we’ve got nowhere to put it.’ I find American television the hardest to sell to. They recently said they’d like to show two of my arts films, and that I’d need to pay for insurance, I’d need to give them video rights, video on demand rights, Internet rights, various other things—and they couldn’t pay. They wouldn’t pay me a penny, but they said, ‘What you can do, of course, is you can advertise your DVD on the end.’ That’s not a sustainable business, to say, ‘Well, we’ll show it. We’re not going to pay you.’

OK, so why do cinema? Well, the thing about cinema is one, it’s the best place to see a film. I absolutely recognize only 200 people watched it last night. But I know from being there that they had a very powerful reaction to In Search of Haydn. Two, it’s nice for the filmmaker to have that kind of feedback from people. One, to be in attendance when they like it is nice; two, to be in attendance when they have comments to make is important. It’s why I put stuff out. I think the most [TV viewers] I’ve ever had is five and a half million in the UK for a Muhammad Ali film. I didn’t get one email. Whereas last night I went to dinner with some of the audience, five or six, I had to cut it short after two hours. It was very interesting, their response, not only in terms of film but they were giving me suggestions for funding [and] other cinemas to show here. Also, what is increasingly important and will become more and more important for the distribution of films is video on demand and DVDs. DVDs aren’t going away; they still remain a fantastic medium, because often films like mine have bonus DVDs with lots of extras and stuff. Of course, video on demand. People are increasingly going to [streaming services]. One used to be able to argue that it was a much worse [viewing] experience. It’s still not as good as the cinema but now the screen’s getting better, the audio’s getting better. If you’d asked me this months ago, I’d have said that we’re not making any money from this kind of thing. Actually, last month we earned $600 from The Boy Mir iTunes downloads alone. That’s really quite significant. I mean, that’s one month and that pays one person’s weekly wages.

Fox: And the film is reaching people you might not have reached in any other way.

Grabsky: Different media appeal to different types of people. The audience last night, a slightly older audience, they’re maybe not on the Internet quite so much whereas the younger audience will be more on the Internet. I think television is running itself into the ground, so you can’t rely on television. Cinema—it can work. I argue for self-distribution, because if you get distributors involved on these kind of [specialty] films they’ll cover their costs, they’ll make a little bit of money, but that will be it. Then all the money’s gone. So you’ll find that you’ve had lots and lots of screenings and you’ve earned nothing. So although [self-distribution] is extraordinarily time-consuming, hugely time-consuming, I never recommend it to anybody unless you want to do 20-hour days, but if you are willing to do it, it’s worth it to try and get screenings.

Fox: Let’s go back to television for a moment, and the difference since you began making films in the 1980s.

Grabsky: It’s a huge change. You’re not going to bump into stuff [by accident] the same way. When television was at its best, it would have the news followed by a drama or a comedy show followed by, I don’t know—

Fox: A current events program.

Grabsky: A current events program, and people would sit in front of the TV for three hours basically being fed a relatively mixed diet. No longer. So if you like burgers, then you’ll find any flavor burger you want. You can get a burger from Venezuela. But if you as a burger eater didn’t realize how great dim sum was, you’re never going to find out. With In Search of Haydn, my work is to communicate to the audience that likes classical music. With The Boy Mir, I try to communicate to everybody. Now this is the double-edged sword of technology. On the one hand, technology gives you the theoretical possibility of talking to everybody. So I’m on my email last night, I’m emailing Chile, England, the United States, Canada, Germany—it’s worldwide. At times you have to think, what is realistic here? I’ve got to limit my ambition a little bit. It’s just all-consuming. You clear your inbox and you wake up in the morning and you’ve got another 50 emails.

Fox: Do you do a screening like last night, with an audience, to replenish yourself energy-wise, and to remind yourself why you do what you do?

Grabsky: No, ‘cause you only get that if it’s a successful screening and you don’t know that in advance.

Fox: But you know the quality of the work you’re showing, so you can anticipate a positive response.

Grabsky: What I’ve got half-established in the U.S.A. now is a series of cinemas that have shown my films before and have enjoyed the Q&As and have basically said, ‘Come back anytime.’ But I need more. I did hear of a filmmaker last night who’s about to go on a 70-date tour, 60 screenings in 70 days.
Fox: Do you remember his name?

Grabsky: It’s a her and I don’t remember, no. I can only imagine that she’s single and has no kids. The truth of the matter is, documentary is an infantilized industry. It’s a very childish industry. My friends who have been working in the same industry and have been relatively successful for 28 years—which I have been—if they’re lawyers or teachers or administrators or bankers or IT specialists, they work in a different commercial framework than I am. I’m still having to hustle every cinema. My friend, if he’s asked to give a talk, he’ll be paid $800. After a four-hour train journey to a cinema in Britain recently, where they weren’t paying for the Q&A, they weren’t paying for travel, they wouldn’t pay for a hotel, I turned up and I said, ‘I’ve had this journey, can I get a special coffee and cake? Do you mind if I have a bit of that for my lunch?’ We have to hustle the cinemas for $100 there, $50 there. My view is that if film festivals want to show our films, they’ve got to pay. If they want us to do Q&As, they’ve got to pay. This thing about cinemas only paying 30 percent of box office—why? Why are cinemas taking 70 percent? They get 200 people in, paying $15, in one screening they’ve taken $3,000. Explain to me why the filmmaker gets a thousand and the cinema gets two thousand. That comes from when the studios would say, ‘We want you to guarantee two weeks, four screenings a day.’ Some of those screenings are not going to be terribly busy so the cinemas say, ‘All right, but it’s got to be 65 percent in our favor.’ We come along with a one-off [specialty] film. ‘No, no exceptions to this.’ What is changing things is the [specialty] films like Leonardo Live, because they’re the most successful days in the cinema, and thankfully the distributors have said [to the cinemas], ‘It’s 50-50 or you’re not getting it.’ The cinemas know that it’s going to make them money, even at 50-50. So that’s starting to break that down a little bit.

We’ve hustled and hustled cinemas, and sent postcards, and social media, and end up chasing for a hundred-dollar check. It’s really not worth it. I cannot raise the money for my films. I can’t raise the up-front for broadcast because they’re not interested or they don’t pay enough, and I can’t raise it on the back end because basically I end up with five to seven-and-a-half percent of box office. I’ve been on tour now for four weeks with two more weeks to go—Australia, New Zealand, America. Has it been worth it? Many, many benefits but commercially, if I had stayed in Britain and done one good deal with a broadcaster, I probably would have made more money. What I would say to filmmakers is ‘Don’t do what I do.’ I’ve got reasons why I do it but I would say that if commerce is your preeminent necessity in that moment, then you’re better off sitting at home, on your computer, trying to do a couple of good deals. I can only hustle these cinemas because I have six or seven staff working for me in Brighton, some of whom are doing the deliverables, some are redesigning posters, sending out Blu-Rays. It’s a huge machine. All are being paid. I’ve probably made more films than most documentary filmmakers will in their entire lives, so I have a catalog of my own work and I’ve got a kind of strand developing. I want to do two more In Search of’s. I’m going to do Chopin and if I can raise the money I’ll do Bach. And the exhibition films I’ll continue. So I have some product. If you’re a one-off filmmaker, moving from Somalia to gas extraction in Wisconsin or whatever, they’re completely different niches. It’s very tough, very tough. And that’s why the Internet is going to be increasingly important.

Fox: I have to say you’re bumming me out. I operate under the illusion that in the UK, or Germany, there’s still support for quality nonfiction films, especially for filmmakers with a track record and a reputation.

Grabsky: We have no government funding in the UK, no local grants, no tax breaks because traditionally broadcasters are so strong. Everyone else says, ‘Why do we need to support [docs]?’ January 1, 2003, I think it was, the law changed whereby we own the copyright on our works. A very significant change. Channel 4’s distribution arm essentially went out of business because they no longer got the products automatically from Channel 4. Broadcasters are very savvy and they said, ‘All right, well if we don’t own it we’re not paying as much.’ So it went to a license fee. Channel 4’s #1 documentary strand, called ‘True Stories,’ took my Boy Mir film and are very happy with it. They talk about it publicly, it’s won some awards. They pay 15 percent of the budget. Where do you get the other 85 percent? Germany—they have some money, but as a non-German it’s pretty difficult. And the market’s hugely competitive now. All these new cameras—everybody I meet is a documentarian. They’ve got a still camera that shoots video in their bag or they’ve got a small video camera in their bag. It’s almost like anyone who picks up a pen now calls himself an author. Anyone who buys a video camera calls himself a documentary filmmaker. Now, you and I know that most of them aren’t, the vast majority are not, but they’re all sending in ideas to these commissioning editors, they’re all sending pitches, they’re all trying to get them on the phone. So the whole industry’s clogged up. How a commissioning editor can work their way through to find the good ones is beyond me and often, of course, they don’t. [Germany’s] ZDF are a big player but I’ve never managed to get anything out of ZDF. The one conversation I had with them was about the world’s greatest ports. And two had to be in Germany—no, I had to do Hamburg. And Discovery was involved, so we had to do, I don’t know, whatever the American one was. I don’t want to do stuff like that.

Fox: So talk about your approach to making historical docs for contemporary audiences.

Grabsky: OK, let’s look at something like [In Search of] Mozart. I wanted to make a film that would explore who Mozart really was. One of the first things I do is I write down all the things I don’t know, which is a lot. It’s important to write this stuff down to remember where the audience is. I’m like everyone else who got a vague sense from Amadeus but that’s about it. But I have the ability to go out and talk to people and I’m good at asking questions. I think the basis of documentary filmmaking is preparation and the ability to ask the right questions, I did a lot of history films and explored all sorts of different ways of doing it. We did a series for Discovery TLC called Ancient Warriors. All—well, not all, but a lot of reconstructions. Romans dressed up, Spartans dressed up, and sometimes we’d have a lot, a hundred, and sometimes you’d be recreating the Battle of Thermopylae with four Spartans on a Sussex beach in the winter. It’s amazing how often these re-enactors would run around the camera.

The better history programs I got to do next were The Great Commanders, also on DVD, where I looked at six commanders from Alexander the Great to [Marshal] Zhukov and each episode is based on a particular battle. Right away what I figured was that it’s in the storytelling. I didn’t want to show off as a filmmaker. The best compliments I get—I had this the other night when someone said, ‘That narration for Haydn was spot on.’ I love it when people compliment the editing or the photography or whatever, but I really love it when they compliment the narration, because the narration’s the backbone of the film. And it can’t be too flashy. I allow myself one purple moment in [In Search of] Haydn, right at the end, otherwise you got to be pretty transparent. You’re carrying a lot of information, it’s got to be underpinned to a clear-cut understanding of the subject, it’s got to be short, to the point, not too wordy. Anyway, The Great Commanders was all about that, this mix of intelligent narration with interviews. I enjoyed doing that.

Then I did six history programs with Terry Jones from Monty Python. I thought it would be good to use a presenter, and a presenter with a huge brain who doesn’t want to just spout off stuff, he wants to make a thesis. I remember flying with him, I was upgraded to business class for it, right at the front of the plane on Virgin Airways going across to New York. Fantastic. A real thrill. And he talked to me about the script the whole time. Before the plane took off to the moment the plane landed, he was, ‘Now how are we going to do this?’ ‘Come on, give me a break, I want to enjoy sitting in business class.’

That’s the way the BBC does it these days. It’s mediated through a presenter. [The BBC] feels the audience needs to see someone telling them stories. I moved away from that, except for my art shows with Tim Marlow, for two reasons. One, yes, it helps the storytelling but it also gets in the way of the subject matter. Two, it’s also an excuse for lazy filmmaking. ‘How do we cover this?’ ‘Oh, we’ll just see the presenter walking.’ And usually, when it’s a female presenter, the amount of shots from behind or silhouetted against the sun, it’s sick-making, it really is. I also have to say I can only survive if to some extent my name has some recognition. In this highly competitive industry, I need broadcasters and cinemas and audience to have some recognition for Phil Grabsky. I’ve just started a second company called Phil Grabsky Films.com, and it’s not because I have a massive ego but it’s branding. And it’s worked, because in Leonardo Live on the posters it’s Phil Grabsky Films.com and cinemas said to me, ‘Oh, right, you did In Search of Beethoven, didn’t you?’ Some of them, not too many, then did dual screenings, In Search of Haydn and Leonardo Live from the same director. If you do a history program with a presenter, you as director are completely anonymous. It’s a Terry Jones film.

I feel a massive responsibility to the composers to get my interpretation right, to get the best musicians possible and to have that feeling—this is my #1 thing, actually—to have that feeling that if Joseph Haydn sat down in front of the film, he’d watch it and go, ‘Yeah, good work.’

Fox: Let me steer you back to your approach. The In Search of films have a narrator, but they’re not illustrated monologues.



Grabsky: OK, the biggest fear straightaway when you approach a film like In Search of Mozart is, ‘It’s going to be concert footage, sit-down interviews and two-dimensional rostrums.’ And an audience, even if they are big fans of Mozart, if they are coming to the cinema or watching on television they need to be entertained. It should be enough I’ve made a selection through hundreds and hundreds of people and got 60 of the world’s best performers to be filmed live. That should be enough however I present it to you. But no, people want more. So with Mozart, I thought, to give this some energy, to give this some life, I’m going to have contemporary footage, as much location footage as I can get. You’re going to see shots out of the car I’m driving going along the motorways. It’s dynamic energy. It’s movement. And it reflects the fact that Mozart drove endlessly. Now he was driving, not on motorways, but he was bored driving in the same way that we’re bored driving. So that was my excuse. I also used contemporary images. This is something I’ve done in my history films. In Nero’s Golden House, we’re talking about the way ancient Romans were, and people becoming unhappy with Nero, and we have shots of modern Italians. We’re using modern images to help tell the story. In Mozart, people really liked it. It made it quite fresh and appealing. But I decided not to do that again for Beethoven nor Haydn. I felt that both those composers—and the way that I’ll do it subsequently—there is enough energy in the way that I film the concerts. There is enough energy, not necessarily in the framing of the interviews but in what they say. What I’m tending to do now is use location footage. Natural footage. The danger with these types of films is that as a director you have so little confidence in your audience that you start to throw too much at them. ‘Oh, you’re not interested enough in the music so I’m going to put some words over the top. Oh, you’re not interested enough in those two things so what I’m going to do is put lots of cutting images of this, that and the other thing.’ The key to any film about composers is the appreciation of the music. Even if I had had the money I wouldn’t have done the reconstruction route. Then I’m telling you what to think, and probably getting it wrong. In the same way as when I watch Roman reconstructions, they almost always get the armor wrong. I know enough to know that they get it wrong. Because they’ve gone to reconstruction groups, [and] all the guys who do that want to wear the same gear. In fact, the Roman army was picking up stuff, using other people’s, a complete mishmash.

Fox: How do you reconcile the desire to express yourself as an artist with serving as an intermediary for the composer? You’ve mentioned your responsibility to the audience, but what obligation do you feel to your subject?

Grabsky: I’m glad you asked that. I feel a huge responsibility to the composer. ‘Cause no one’s made these films before, and I’ll be surprised if anyone makes them again. Because it’s hugely complicated. That’s not to say people won’t make biographies of these composers. This huge wave of people coming in, [even] if they were interested to do this they wouldn’t do it this way. So there’s a definite degree to which this is unique. I feel a massive responsibility to [the composers] to get my interpretation right, to get the best musicians possible and to have that feeling—this is my #1 thing, actually—to have that feeling that if Joseph Haydn sat down in front of the film, he’d watch it and go, ‘Yeah, good work.’ And the same with Mozart and the same with Beethoven.

Fox: That’s a lovely way to end, but I’d like to add that the craft and the art of documentary are largely unappreciated.

Grabsky; That’s true. Even though I would probably say [that of my films] only Heavy Water: a film for Chernobyl was documentary as art. Having been around contemporary art just a little bit, I would still stumble, I’m still hesitating now, but I’m almost at the point where I could call myself an artist. I certainly don’t have any hesitation calling myself a filmmaker or a film director. And probably in the ’90s I would have said producer, so there has been a change.

http://www.fandor.com/blog/the-art-of-filmmaking-phil-grabsky

Thursday 23 August 2012

Wednesday 15th August - Olympics and Chopin (amongst other things)

Gatwick Airport. En route with Easy Jet to Toulouse. Preparing myself for the scrum at boarding…

My mind is a jumble of projects which I am sure isn’t terribly healthy, although it’s certainly stimulating in its way. Nor have I recovered from the wonderful Olympics. I was one of many who were a bit cynical and a bit worried that we’d put on something a bit average, How wrong I was – from the superb opening ceremony, they have been a joy. I was asked in the office today what were my highlights and I was stumped…Mo, Jessica, the cycling team, Becky (we still love you!), the rowers, Tom Daly, the equestrian team, oh and lots more. I also loved an Afghan getting a bronze, the Saudi women, the Turkish and Algerian gold medal athletes, Phelps, and of course Andy Murray. See? Where do you stop? Of course that’s from a pretty British perspective – in France the TV seemed to be showing a completely different Games – all judo and handball. Anyway, what a show – well done to all concerned. I’m glad to see it was a film director (Danny Boyle) who pulled off the best Opening Ceremony ever too.

Meanwhile, my own film-making has been much more modest: yesterday though I had the absolute pleasure of filming Leif Ove Andsnes playing Chopin and Beethoven at the Snape Proms in Snape, Suffolk. As always, it was a bit of a chore to set it up, get the gear, get to the location, overcome the logistical problems that often do (and yesterday did) pop up – but once I’m filming and he’s playing, it’s all so worth it. I’m finding this project very interesting as, unlike Haydn, Beethoven and Mozart, Chopin is, of course, largely single piano works. Quite how that will finally look on film is a bit of a concern. I try to film each piece in a way that is sympathetic to the story at the moment but there really are only so many ways to film a piano and pianist (without getting very show-biz). I also know that my audience are not afraid to just watch and listen too. I don’t need to panic after twenty seconds – people sat enraptured last night for two hours so I’m sure they’d be happy to watch a pretty static shot and edit of Leif Ove playing for a few minutes on screen. We’ll see. What is clear so far is that the first twenty years of his life in Warsaw are essential and need a lot of research and focus. That was true of the other three composers too: so much can be learnt from looking at their formative years. I’m off to France today, partly to go to Nohant and then Paris and look at some of the locations he lived in but really the most important location in his story is, by far, Warsaw. Sadly, the broadcaster that had seemed very likely to commission the film pulled out last week – as they have had budget cuts. So I’m half way through the film and haven’t raised a penny – not very impressive. But in September we’re going to try everything: broadcasters, arts funders and private donations (through crowd-sourcing). Fingers crossed…

Another piano project that is nearing conclusion is my pet project ‘PIANO NOTES: THE UTTERLY PARTIAL HISTORY OF THE PIANO WITH RONALD BRAUTIGAM’. Not only has that got to be the longest title in history but, if I say so myself, it’s really good. The first 13 shows are done and just need grading and mixing. It’s wonderful to see him play chosen works by the greatest of composers and then talk about them. It will be such a useful tool for young pianists for years to come but also, I’m sure (and I hope) will be much valued by aficionados of classical music no matter their age. Ronald was great when I interviewed him – having to articulate about one composer after another until we had covered all thirteen episodes of series 1 (of 2).

It reminded me of the much-missed David Chandler, once Head of Military History at Sandhurst. I will never forget interviewing him in depth about six great commanders. He talked at such length and with such insight about Alexander, Caesar, Napoleon, Nelson, Grant and Zhukov. It didn’t matter what I asked him – he had the answer. A lovely, lovely man who was one of the great Napoleonic experts (and Marlborough too). I also remember taking the interview to show my Channel 4 commissioning editor. He too was thoroughly impressed and then told me to shoot it again as I’d shot from the side that showed off David’s missing tooth. Tail between legs, I scurried back to Sandhurst, and shot it all again (from the other side). It’s over 15 years since I made The Great Commanders and I look back on that period with enormous fondness. I had a great commissioning editor (who, yes, made me shoot stuff again sometimes!) at a once-great channel (C4) with a decent budget that allowed me to really focus on six wonderful stories – and write a book too. I travelled the world filming actual locations, taking experts with me. It was the first military history project Channel 4 did and, to their surprise, was a great success. The book sold 50,000 copies and, as so often, the receipts seemed to end up elsewhere. Getting back to my point though: so often it is these experts that we film-makers absolutely rely on. I always make a point of paying them, even when I can’t afford to pay musicians or orchestras.

It does all seem a long time ago: can you guess what the audience share is this week for the main channels? In digital homes it’s as follows: BBC1 35%, ITV 9%, BBC2 6%, C4 4%, C5 3%, More 4 0.9%, BBC4 (less than 0.67%), SkyArts (even less). Maybe those figures are skewed by the Olympics…but still, I remember when BBC 2, C4 and C5 were vying for 10%... Those days are long gone. The dominance of terrestrial is certainly over. I try not to follow the crowd as it’s way, way too busy (it’s like boarding an Easy Jet flight – all elbows and crushed toes) but we are developing an arts app, have put my books on Kindle and Audible and Amazon TV…and do talk as often to non-broadcasters as to broadcasters). I don’t know how so many decent films still get made (as far as docs are concerned, BBC4 is the best) but there’s a lot of ducking and diving involved nowadays. The danger is you spend so much time fund-raising that you actually don’t spend enough film-making…



Wednesday 25 July 2012

Tuesday 24th July - France

There simply are not enough hours in the day. Who decided to only have 24?! (Actually wasn't it the ancient Egyptians who divided the day into 12 hours day and 12 hours night on the basis of how long a soldier can stand watch? Hmm, I wonder). 


Anyway, I, for one, simply can't get everything done in a day - especially when the Spanish are playing the beautiful game in the Euros, Bradley Wiggens is becoming an absolute hero and poor old Alan Scott crumbles on the last four holes of the Open. To make matters worse, my wife gave me the DVD set of Homeland - which is not-put-downable.... (trailer for series 1 below) 






Somewhere, outside of the wee hours of the night, I've been reading about the Papacy in the 15th century, the life of Chopin and the history of the piano.... And, just for fun, the terrible, awful history of the Battle of the Atlantic in World War Two. Some, not all, of the above is for work and that remains the same as ever. Choose subjects you are interested in and then just crack on.


The world of broadcasting becomes harder and harder. Deals are broken, invoices unpaid. One European broadcaster has yet to pay us for THE BOY MIR two years after delivery. It's not a lot of money but it's the principle - or lack of - that irks me. But what to do? It's a game of three-dimensional chess and from time to time you have to sacrifice a pawn to stay in the game. But it's a tough world now - it's not about public service any more, it's about commerce. Look at SKY: one moment on top of the world, the next BT come along and almost steal the rights to premier league football. BT apparently had a purse of £2billion to bid for those games. They didn't get what they wanted but they got some and the price per game has, I believe, risen from a staggering £4m/game to over £6m/game. Yep, you read that right! £6 million quid. Per game.  Of football.   Now, as a Man City fan, I know and love football and know all about the impact of money but £6m/game is way off the scale.  Along comes little ol' me talking public service and culture and asking for £50,000 a show or whatever and you can see why I have battles....  As I said, three-dimensional chess.


On the other hand, when and if we can bring more EXHIBITION shows to the cinema, or IN SEARCH OF CHOPIN or PIANO NOTES - THE UTTERLY PARTIAL HISTORY OF THE PIANO WITH RONALD BRAUTIGAM we'll have done something really worthwhile. It's not in the same league as winning the Tour or a Major in golf but, to us, crossing the finish line is always a victory.

Tuesday 3 July 2012

Friday 29th June

A busy week ends. We've been editing two super projects: PIANO NOTES - THE UTTERLY PARTIAL HISTORY OF THE PIANO WITH RONALD BRAUTIGAM (we're after the longest title award at the next BAFTAs) and the pilot for my film THE PIANIST AND BEETHOVEN (which stars Leif Ove Andsnes). What a thrill, to be working with two of the best pianists in the world. Ronald's series of shorts will eventually comprise of 26 shorts from Scarlati and Bach right up to the modern day. We've shot the first 13 epsiodes and, even if I do say so myself!, they look and sound great. It's not me that makes them work; it's the wonderful pianism of Ronald and the wonderful editing of my editor Phil Reynolds. I do have a personal way I like to shoot but it would be nothing without them. Above all, it's the genius (an over-used word but suitable at this juncture) of the composers themselves. Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin, Schuman, Schubert and more. Really pleased with these films - and they'll be finished and on air later this year.


The project with Leif Ove is also one to get any music fan tingling... Leif Ove is playing and recording the five Beethoven piano concerti over the next three years and he is allowing me full access to follow his journey. Really, filming his performances with the Mahler Chamber Orchestra would be enough but to also look at how he approaches this works of great art, what does he discover about Beethoven and, at the same time, what can we learn about one of the top 10 pianists in the world as he travels from Japan to the USA to Germany to the UK, and so on. You don't often get to see behind-the-scenes in the kind of detail we are already capturing. If I can make it as fascinating to watch as it is to film, I'll be happy. I filmed him performing and recording in Prague and Bergen - it was a little strenuous but worth it when I watched the rushes with Phil the editor. We've put together a pilot and now we need to raise the budget....watch this space.

Edvard Munch 'The Girls on the Bridge', 1901
(c) National Museum, Oslo, Norway 2012
Another project to watch is TIM MARLOW ON… EDVARD MUNCH: THE MODERN EYE. We shoot it Tuesday for TX on SkyArts next Saturday (7th July). Ben Harding is directing and I know it's a great exhibition so it'll make a great film. Take a look.

Thursday 21 June 2012

Thursday 21st June - Broadcast Digital Awards

Just back from an interesting evening at the Broadcast Digital Awards. LEONARDO LIVE had been nominated for an award as best live show of last year which was, frankly, pretty generous as not everything went smoothly on the night. But, as I’ve said before, juries are very random beasts and obviously they had enjoyed the show and were happy to overlook some of the glitches. Plus it was a TV/Cinema ‘first’ and there aren’t really that many of those around.

So… to the Lancaster Hotel where a sea of middle-aged men in black (yep, including me though no dicky bow!) and a very glamourous younger crowd of women gathered in the hope of a gong to adorn a mantelpiece somewhere. Let me state straightaway that I love winning awards - and consider them irrelevant when we don’t…. But there are so many now it’s hard to keep track and also hard to know which are the most valuable. Frankly, it’s much of a muchness – but any award is good news for the broadcaster concerned and offers a stamp of success. Anything thus that helps secure the next commission has to be useful. On the other hand, were those tables really £3000+ a pop?? Good lord – there were 49 tables so do the maths…. I think I might start a few awards ceremonies myself and hold them in my lounge. Or maybe just sell the laurel leaves for producers to fling liberally over their DVD covers. That’s what we do! I’ve won dozens of awards – has it helped? Not much.

So what were we up against and did we win?

Radio 1's Big Weekend Lady Gaga Live, BBC Productions for BBC Three

The FA Cup Final, IMG Sports Media for ESPN

The World Sheepdog Trials, North One TV for More 4

Tour de France 2011, V Squared for ITV4

World Match Racing Tour, Red Handed TV for multiple broadcasters

My vote went to the Tour de France coverage which is super. The jury’s vote went to ….The FA Cup. Never mind, the nomination (our second for Leonardo Live) was nice. The highlight though of the night was the comedian Greg Davies who was superb. The lowlight was the British rail service…..

Thursday 24 May 2012

Thursday 24th May

A Grabsky blog first...I'm on board Norwegian Air who are first airline to have free wi-fi so instead of reading, sleeping, talking, eating or watching tv I'm doing work emails...Is this a good thing? Either way, technology moves on once again.  The last two nights I have filmed Leif Ove Andsnes playing Beethoven and I'm off to Norway to film one more concert. They have been staggering...I'll write more later. Enough  of this airline makarkey...

Monday 21 May 2012

Thursday 17th May - One World Media Awards


I had a very interesting evening at the impressive One World Media Awards last week. The Boy Mir was nominated in the Children’s Rights category. Sadly we didn’t win but it’s great to be nominated alongside a host of inspiring and illustrious entries.  The winner in the Children’s Rights category was Africa Investigates: Spell of the Albino, I’ve included the jury’s comments on The Boy Mir and the other entries in the category below.

This year’s entries were brilliantly powerful and shocking. Each one delivered an influential insight into children’s lives in the developing world, pushing for improvement of their rights. They were all excellent examples of filmmaking/journalism, making it difficult to decide on the winner. The winner of this year’s Children’s Rights Award, therefore, is the entry that took action and made a positive difference to children’s lives in the developing world.

Africa Investigates: Spell of the Albino, InsightNewsTV for Al Jazeera English
This was truly good investigative journalism, an example of how documentaries should be. It wasn’t just a case of reporting an unstressed situation to the world; instead, this documentary took action, made a difference and could potentially save lives. What makes this one entry stand out is the graphic aspects, capturing the attention of the audience - the images weren't just used for 'shock factor'. Without them, the message would not have been be conveyed. It gave a voice to the victims, their families, charity workers and witch doctors, as well as clearly setting out possible solutions to a serious crime.

This website is a great resource that allows audiences to interactively learn about the important issue of child marriage and all the issues surrounding it. It is a powerful website that truly promotes change. Its interactive aspects and multimedia format makes it reign supreme over an average online source. With voices from all over the developing world and access to legal support, this website could possibly be a life-saving tool as well. The entry is a fresh approach on an unsolved, on-going problem that provides aid to the victims yet also shows signs of hope.

The Boy Mir – Ten Years in Afghanistan, Seventh Art Productions
This documentary captures 10 years in 90 minutes - a very impressive feat. It is a moving and revealing insight into an Afghan family and offers cultural understanding like no other. It was a wonderful and moving experience, both comical and heart-breaking at times. Through the life of one boy, the film teaches the audience about culture, poverty, health, education, family, love, politics and the interdependence of the rich and poor. Very rarely does media give a true insight to the developing world; however, this production did so effectively and compellingly.

So, congratulations to all the winners and nominees (there’s a full list on their website) and for anyone out there interested in documentary I would thoroughly recommend this award.

Wednesday 4 April 2012

Tuesday 3rd April - Spring Tour Day 37

Breakfast, make lunch sandwich and smuggle out of breakfast room, ironing, unpack, count dvds, emails, phone calls, go for jog, get haircut, go to bank, check emails again, clean shoes, update database, read about Chopin, check local press, do Facebook and Twitter, and... oh yes, the blog.  

Into the last week of this tour now and only three cities left. This will be the last blog of the tour as I know DC and NY are going to be very busy. I have the films and meetings and even some filming to do.  Right now, I’m here in Kansas City, then tomorrow begins Washington DC and New York.   Last week, after Boston I went to Chicago which is a fantastic city to visit - and a very receptive city for my music films. I did seven attended screenings and enjoyed each one - the film was very well received and I had many interesting and encouraging conversations with the audience after the film finished. What was also nice was the extraordinary enthusiasm for the news that I am going to make a film next about Chopin. That gave me a welcome boost. Driving audiences in though is getting tougher - radio and press both seem to be cutting back on reviewers and the cost of ads for small film-makers like me is prohibitive.  Bigger distributors may show an income of a million bucks on a doc but they’ve spent a million to get it there.  Honestly, though, if I’d had the money, I do think either Beethoven or Boy Mir could have cracked it in the USA but it would have been expensive and even more time-consuming. And I take the long-term view (-I have to-) that folk will see the films in the end one way or another. They do well on DVD, they’ll do increasingly well on the internet platforms and I’ll keep having cinema or concert hall screenings. 

It’s fascinating though reading, as I am, Keith Richards’ autobiography - even for a great band like them, so much was carefully orchestrated publicity.  So, I have been away for almost six weeks - that is a long time. At least my family were able to fly out and spend some of that time with me otherwise it would have been unacceptable and unbearable.  It hasn’t made enough money to pay back much of Haydn’s costs or contribute towards Chopin - to other film-makers I say, again, don’t copy me. But I have achieved much, met many fine people, been highly rewarded by the almost unanimously ecstatic response to the film and the very warm desire for me to now to Chopin. My hat is off to all the hard-working cinema owners and staff, and the overwhelmingly nice hotel and airline staff that I have dealt with. I have only two more flights now and that’s a relief - and I managed all this travelling without paying a single extra baggage charge! Things like that give me great pleasure. I have tried to keep abreast of world events but that’s sometimes hard when you’re so short of time. I’ve certainly watched a lot of films but none were major works.  Many, indeed, were really quite bad - and made on a budget a thousand times more than mine.  I didn’t lose the three kilos I just can’t shift nor did I keep to my promise to run 5 miles a day... nor did I read the da Ponte biography that I keep lugging around... But I did get through thousands of emails and feel very set up for the months ahead.

By way of final conclusion, I’d have liked better audiences but I couldn’t have hoped for a better critical response from those who came - and that, at the end of the day, is what will keep the film fresh for years and years to come.  So cheerio blog buddies... I hope someone is reading... if not, well, it’s the nearest thing I have to a diary!!  PS - very corny but best pun title of a review in the press goes to Brent Sheppherd of Kansas City’s The Pitch:  Joseph, where have you been Haydn?   
All the best, Px

Wednesday 28 March 2012

Sunday 24th March - Spring Tour Day 27

A grey and cold morning in Boston – great! I can’t take all these sunny days giving folk the option of going to the beach when naturally they should be thinking about sitting in screenings of In Search of Haydn. Yesterday’s screenings were poorly attended and that is even more frustrating when those that were there were so enthusiastic. Again a reminder, though none is required, that it’s all about publicity. You have to be prepared to spend 20% of what you may earn through Box Office (and DVD sales) on making sure people know about the event. That said, the venue tried and we tried. Kristin – the very excellent manager – pushed as best she could but it didn’t really happen for us. It certainly doesn’t help where it’s a March day that gives you sunburn if you so much as poke your head out of the window. Still, I like the venue which is not a traditional cinema but the Museum of Fine Arts. If you go to Boston, you have to visit this lovely museum. It’s very fresh and has a brand spanking new wing. Actually, so far on my US trip, I’m having my own experiences and preconceptions challenged. In recent trips, I have found the US to be very tired in so many ways. Crummy airports, crummy hotels, crummy coffee. Well, blow me down with a feather but so far the airports (LA, San Fran, Boston) have been excellent, the airline (American) as good as any, the hotels I’ve been in have been good too. What remains true is the inability to make coffee, produce proper bacon, understand that bread should have a taste, and no I don’t want a 600 calorie muffin thanks… Going back to my jog, how lovely and modern Boston seems. I know it’s a passing view of downtown but still…. The only thing I didn’t like about my run this morning was that there I was jogging along listening to Leif Ove Andsnes playing Beethoven and feeling pretty good with myself for getting out there so early when a bunch of male sportsmen ran past – maybe just a college basketball team – but they certainly made me regret all the times I’ve said yes to the 600 calorie muffins.

As I write this, the third of 5 screenings of Haydn is going on – and for the third time, it’s poorly attended. Shame. But I can look back to the previous two dates in LA and just outside San Francisco. Both were very well attended and the audiences very happy. There was an interesting development too: a bunch of them said I need to try crowd-funding for Chopin – essentially ask people to donate to help me make the film. Maybe $100 gets a name on the credits, $250 a signed DVD, $500 credit, DVD and invite to a screening with me – and $10,000 will get me cooking you dinner anywhere in the world! Might give it a go! It would be so great to be able to make one of these films without constantly getting on one knee to the broadcast high & mighty. I think people in the USA are genuinely shocked when they hear that few European and no US TV stations have any interest in these type of films…so they are now suggesting that they, the audience, fund (in small amounts) the films themselves. Interesting – wouldn’t that be nice…50 people who all donated $1000 once a year to let me make In Search of Chopin, then Bach…. Hmmm….any takers?

While you ponder that surely irresistible offer, let me comment on something I’ve seen so much of in only three days in the USA: no-one seems able to survive five minutes without talking into their phones…Barely has a plane touched down before people seem to be talking (loudly) to themselves. Then you realise they are making phone calls. ‘Hi – I’ve just touched down in Boston, how are you? How’s fluffy the cat? Tickle him for me. Is your rash getting better? Oh, I had delicious ravioli last night…’ etc…blah blah…etc. One of my pet projects is to make a film with film-maker David Bickerstaff called ‘Silence’. I’m now more determined than ever. My double screening in the beautiful San Francisco area (north of the Golden Gate bridge) allowed me some time to work but it is hard when around you is so noisy - I stick some Chopin on and that drowns everything out. I thought I’d have cleared my email in-boxes by now and finally finished some proposals but no matter how early into the morning I work, I can’t quite crawl up the rope to safety…I feel like I’m dangling over a long drop and if I ease up I’ll fall in to a deep dark pit of unanswered requests…. Some of the emails of course relate to the continued push of Haydn in Australia and New Zealand (and a few THE BOY MIR screenings coming up too). The first week’s Box Office was one-third Mozart’s and one-tenth’s Beethoven. Shame – again, not enough publicity (and the slightly diminished appeal of Haydn probably). Here’s a review we just got – it’s great but why two weeks into the run do we get it now? Especially as Sydney has already scaled back screenings…still, it will drive DVD sales I guess:

Seeking Haydn by: Evan Williams - The Australian - March 24, 2012
Phil Grabsky completes his fine trilogy of films about great classical composers. In Search of Haydn is the third in Phil Grabsky's fine trilogy of films about great classical composers, a worthy successor to In Search of Mozart and the somewhat less successful In Search of Beethoven.
It follows the established formula: interviews with musicians and extracts from letters (the narrator is Juliet Stevenson), mixed with deftly chosen musical excerpts, beautifully performed. And because the emphasis is more on the music than the man, the films are not strictly biographical. We are told little, for example, of Haydn's unhappy and childless marriage to Maria Anne Keller, and nothing of his earlier infatuation with Maria's younger sister Therese or his passionate affair in later life with a young Italian opera singer, Luigia Polzelli, all of which would have made for a juicy biopic in the old Hollywood tradition.But Haydn remains a no less vivid and forceful presence. The key figures in his musical career were Mozart, his revered friend and mentor, and his employer, Hungarian Prince Nicolaus Esterhazy, whom he served for 28 years as a kind of court composer and resident orchestral conductor. Grabsky is a master of lucid exposition and the essentials of Haydn's career are recounted in clear and orderly style, enlivened by fascinating details. I hadn't realised that the theme from one of his string quartets -- a form he virtually invented -- became Austria's first national anthem and later the tune for Deutschland Uber Alles. We are given a glimpse of the only surviving portrait of Haydn showing him without a wig and he looks nothing like the benign and fatherly Papa Haydn I remember from picture books and record covers. The musical excerpts are shot and edited with dazzling skill. Extreme close-ups of strings and flying fingers are intercut with anxious faces and furrowed brows. Haydn wrote no fewer than 104 symphonies before turning to vocal music in later life. We hear something of his oratorio The Creation, an acknowledged masterpiece, and as the film would have it, "a hymn to the perfectibility of man in a divinely ordered universe". It is said that Haydn thought highly of his operas until he heard Mozart's. Someone in the film observes that he needed a Da Ponte to provide him with a decent libretto occasionally. Who knows what operatic treasures he might have given us with Da Ponte at his side? In Search of Haydn is primarily a film for musicians. But all who love music will find it irresistible.  In Search of Haydn (G) - 4 stars

I have to say I’ve been watching loads of films over the last four weeks. I have dozens of the recent BAFTA submissions and few have been worth even two stars, never mind four. Gosh, some dreary, dreary stuff – or, and let me ruffle some feathers here, self-indulgent ponderous stuff like Melancholia. Last night I finally put in a film that had me interested from start to finish – and guess what? – It was a documentary. It’s called Knuckle and it’s about two warring traveller families in Ireland.



You’ll probably never get a chance to see it but if it ever pops up somewhere, give it a look. Certainly a lot more interesting than the drivel that seems to form the majority of Hollywood’s production. Well, I can hear that the film is ending and I need to go do my Question & Answer session. Probably be easier to all sit round a table in the café as there are only about 20 folk in. Mind you, even there was only one person in I’d still do the full Q&A. Then back to the hotel for supermarket sushi and a night transcribing Haydn interviews for a forthcoming book. One more day tomorrow then I’m having three days off – so talk to you in a week. I’d love to know where you blog-readers are so do email me on pgrabsky@seventh-art.com and let me know – and if you have any questions, fire away…