Archive for December, 2009

2009 – not bad. not bad at all.

I love a good adventure.

granted, 2008 was more of one,

but 2009 had a lot happening as well.

it started on a bus in Austin on Jan. 01 – I think someone broke the iPod player.

and then we slowly made our way down to The Keys - Tim a bit more slowly than the rest of us.

I took a month off and did Berlin with Alonso and Switzerland for Carnival.

then over to Austin for SXSW.

and back on the bus.

met Otis Redding’s son and daughter in Georgia.

then back to Oklahoma to watch my brother marry the girl he loved and still loves.

back on the bus and down through the southwest.

finally arriving in one of the best places in the U.S. – Bend, OR. [no photos or stories as I'm supposed to be keeping that town a secret]

got flown to Hawaii by the state’s tourism agency

and then back to Bend.

I loved it, sure, but there was no work to be had,

so I made the easy decision to move to Norway to work on a farm. [no photos and stories because I didn't actually make it there]

stopped in NYC and met a girl.

who then traveled with me in the U.K.

we tried to sail to France, but I got us lost.

and then moved back with her to Los Angeles.

back to Hawaii for another gig.

then back to L.A.

that ended up not working out, so I headed back home,

then to the East Coast.

then the U.K.

then Berlin.

and now find myself drinking black tea with no milk in an Istanbul hotel room.

…so, yeah. thanks, 2009 - 2010, I do have a few thoughts though.

uncle scam

I don’t want to say that ‘I’ve seen it all’ when it comes to tricks, but as my grandpa used to say, ‘you have to get up pretty early in the morning’ to have one over on me. there’s the ‘football dance’ in Barcelona that I will never take part in. if you throw me your baby in Croatia, I won’t catch it. cute girls in Jakarta won’t be convincing me to buy them a cocktail and god help whoever tries to ‘roofie’ me as I’ve spent the past 12 years building up a tolerance

long story short: I know a good scam when I see one.

at least, I thought I did.

he wanted to shine my shoes, but I had on New Balance, so didn’t need it. he said ‘no problem’ and went ahead in front of me. before he crossed the street, a brush fell out of his large ornamental shoe box ['shoe box'? is there a correct name for that?]. being a good Christian + American + Southern boy, I picked it up and touched him on the shoulder. he looked surprised at first, then realized what a wonderful thing I had just done for him and thanked me over-and-over. he put down his shoe box [?] and grabbed my foot, motioning to his heart it was the least he could do and brushed it off. then the other.

how nice of him! how nice of me! what nice people we are!!

and then he asked for money.

and then I gave him some money.

oh sure, I could have said ‘no’ and walked away with my newly-brushed trainers, but there was something about being caught up in the whole ‘international do-gooder’ scenario that makes it virtually impossible to switch back to ‘hard-nosed experienced traveler’.

the Italian couple who walked by Adela said they saw it happen a few times the day before.

as did we that day.

twice, in fact.

but did I once intervene while it was all going down?

gosh, no.

because if misery loves company then the scammed invite the whole fucking neighborhood.

sons of Abrahammam

sure, it was $25 that I didn’t have to spare. but it had to be done. missing an hour in the historic ÇemberlitaÅŸ Hamam in Istanbul is like not throwing up on your birthday – it just doesn’t happen. and so I went. with my $25 [read: daily budget] and I paid, taking note that the free postcards on my right were going to soon have a dent and perhaps a change of sign. holding my little scrubcloth and a yellow plastic piece that said ‘massage’, I was handed a sarong and told to go up to the 3rd floor to change. and so I did. into a tiny little phonebooth of a room that would be all mine, should I care to come back up after the process and want to relax. at $25 I considered just crashing there for the night. down the stairs and into the staging area. I call it the ‘staging area’ because I don’t happen to know what you’d call a room before the big room whose sole purpose is to change into a dry sarong once it’s all done – a ‘dry sarong room’? fine. a dry sarong room. ‘massage after’ said the mustached man with nice eyes, pulling back the second curtain. now, what you see pictured above is what it must look like when it’s closed, because when I walked in it was packed. not a bad packed, but plenty of people on that main center and in the alcoves. I squeezed into a corner and doused my sweat with cool water from the basin…

I should stop now and admit to have never written ‘alcove’ and ‘basin’ before.

anyway.

I went out into the middle and was given a decent scrub and massage by another man with a mustache and then told to ‘relax’ for a while. so I relaxed for a while. then I showered. then changed into a dry sarong in the dry sarong room. and then walked up the three flights of  stairs to my room. there were a handful of people up there in their little rooms. some of them out of their little rooms talking. others sitting in one corner watching television. a guy was stretching in another. and in the third corner was a guy on his phone. having 15 minutes to kill while waiting on my friend Adela to finish, I decided to stretch a little bit myself, as I’ve slept in 18 different beds in the past three weeks and was, needless to say, stiff. I walked over and put my towel down just like the guy next to me did. straightened my back. extended my arms. deeeeeeeep breath in and, bending over, deeeeeeeeep breath out. I was just about all the way down when I heard him say something. and then I turned my head to look.

it was about 40 seconds, the time it took me to walk quickly to my little room, throw my shoes on, bolt down the three flights of stairs, past the free juice bar and past the free postcard stand. across from the entrance was a little bus stop where I waited, with wet hair, on Adela to come out.

had I an internal compass, I could have told you which side of the street I was on.

I could have also told you that the ‘yoga corner’ up there on the 3rd floor was pointing south-east.

as was the man stretching.

towards Mecca.

we’ll just go ahead and call that $25 a penance tax.

[early] shots of Istanbul [not Constantinople]

…are up here.

lights. lights!

it was cold and quiet

this morning when I showed

up with the directions written

and re-written

by a friend who also wrote

on a note hidden inside my bag.

there’s something about

an empty train

in an empty train station,

or so my camera tried to tell you.

still and quiet

cold and London-y.

bleak but fitting.

as I’ve never left a 6am London

when it’s warm.

the light was illuminated

and was pushed

as the sign said

‘push when illuminated’

and the few of us

climbed in.

just a few,

a few of us.

on our cold and grumpy car

this blue wheeze of early-morning

groan.

some would sleep

and others would act like they were

I guess no one wants to talk about much

when you’re on this time

in this place.

and all I want

is for these lights above me

to go out.

to leave

to un-illuminate above me.

*poof*

or whatever sound it would make.

out.

so I can see what’s passing.

what’s running from that man’s head

past my green bag.

I’m sure it’s interesting,

intriguing.

or

so I would try to tell you

I know it’s something

that I haven’t seen before.

but

I can’t make it out properly

because of these lights.

I sure wish someone would

dim them a little

so I could see what’s coming quick.

leaving quick.

*whoosh*

or whatever sound it would make.

but they’ll probably stay on.

even though they’re too bright

too neon

and keep you from seeing

out there.

because some people,

some people,

need them.

London! Berlin!! a photo extravaganza!

are all mostly up here – I have a few left to upload.

but want you to enjoy them now.

please, do enjoy them.

that would make me joy.

dear Chris

dear Chris.

I’m going to call you Chris because I don’t know whether you’re a boy or a girl – hang on, I’ll explain. you don’t know me. we sort of have a mutual friend, but not really. but should I ever see you and she out somewhere – a bar or train stop – I’d probably say hello. there’s something else I would say, but I’ll go ahead and say it now. see, I was in line behind her for the photobooth, as it’s something you do when you’re with friends. I waited and noticed her concentrated look directed towards the papers in her hand. usually it wouldn’t strike me as strange, but it’s Berlin. and it’s the 23rd. both of those add up to not a lot of stress – nor are they reason for a lot of concentration. she wasn’t at work, and she wasn’t a student needing to get that paper finished – if she was, she’d be somewhere besides the photobooth. I waited and watched as she sat down and started to arrange the papers in her lap. I caught a quick glimpse of her face before she closed the curtain, she was still looking down at the papers. ‘clink’ went the 2 euro into the machine. and down went her hand to paper on top. it disappeared out of view until the dark box was overtaken with florescent. then down went the first paper and up went the 2nd one. this could continue for 2 more shots, as I’m sure you live here and even if you don’t, you know that you’re given 4 shots for 2 euro. 4 shots. 4 pieces of paper with some writing on them. I think they were in German, but they could have been something else. she gathered her things, her papers and came out of the booth. it was my turn to go in, but I waited. I’m glad I waited. but that’s not what this letter is about – I want to tell you about her face after the few minutes it took for her to get the little vertical black/white shots of herself and her papers back. she giggled, actually giggled – it wasn’t just a smile, she was so, so happy. now, we all love a good shot of ourselves, but this was different. some might say that she was pleased with whatever idea she had, but I disagree. she was giggling thinking about your face when she would give it to you. her idea worked! and you were special enough to go through the trouble.

she’d never admit to all the effort and thought and giggling that went into this, but hopefully, now, she doesn’t have to.

you hug her and you do it big, Chris.

as some people just get money.

the friday cinco 6 – tim hey ['avatar' compositor]

I first met Tim Hey the second day I landed in Los Angeles – and when you meet someone who’s both humble and successful in the industry, you know you have a rarity. He stayed with Lori and I off-and-on a week or so, and, save for the mass shootings outside and a pension for lychee margaritas, it was fun.

Tim has been in the film industry now for nearly 20 years. First starting a Summer job at his local cinema tearing tickets and moving onto projectionist and engineer. About 9 years ago He decided he should do what he’d always wanted to do and play more of a part in making films. He went to the National Film and Television School in London to study compositing. After graduating, he got his first job on a film called Blade 2 doing prep work such as painting out wires and rigs that were in shots. Within a year he went freelance and started compositing. Between then and now he’s worked on such films as Harry Potter 2 and 3, Aliens vs Predator, Kingdom of Heaven and Superman Returns among many others. He then went to New Zealand initially for 3 months to work on King Kong, but that was 4 years ago, so I’m guessing he liked it.

…oh yeah, one last thing, he just got done working on a small-budget indie flick called ‘Avatar’ or something like that – be a peach and try to see it if you can.

-

what exactly do you do?

I am a compositor at Weta Digital in New Zealand and have been for about 4 years.

what is a compositor?

A compositor is an artist who brings all elements together for a final shot. For example in “Avatar” we have shots with multiple layers of jungles, skies & clouds, creatures, explosions, water, tracer fire and of course the na’vi characters themselves. We then have to make it look as if the shot was filmed with the same camera on the same day. Along with all the elements we add real artifacts you would find if you were filming with real cameras. Lens flares, lens distortion, focus pulls and atmosphere are a few of the added things which make a shot look more natural.

For this project I was a lead compositor so in addition to compositing it was making sure everyone on my sequence was kept up to date with status of shots, ensuring continuity between shots by establishing the look of a sequence alongside the 3D lighters and visual effects supervisor. It also involves liaising with the supervisors and producers and check we were meeting deadlines and flagging any problematic issues that may come up.

how long does each of those frames take to process?

Depending on the amount of data used in the shot and how many elements are used, a single frame can take anywhere from an hour to a couple of days. If you remember there are 24 frames in 1 second that’s a lot of data. Added to that on “Avatar” each frame was rendered twice (right eye and left eye). Luckily the way we and a lot of other large visual effects companies process – or render – frames is we use multiple processors over a network. This leaves us free to do other work and proceed with other shots. Once a shot is rendered it is then reviewed by the visual effects supervisor for any changes that need to be made before the shot is sent to the director to be reviewed.

how long you been working on this?

I’ve been on the show for around a year. however the project has been running a lot longer. Some people at Weta Digital have been working on it 3 maybe 4 years. Because this is literally creating a whole new world, everything has to be built and nothing from the real world can be used. That’s every plant, blade of grass, creature, bug, character, environment, object and vehicle that has to be created from nothing. Usually a film from being awarded to being delivered takes between 6 months and a year at most so that kind of gives you an idea of the scale of Avatar and the work that has gone into it from all the artists involved.

be honest. what’s it like to work on a James Cameron film?

I think that’s the most common question I get. This director is pretty good to work for. What makes it easy from an artists point of view is he has a definite vision of how the whole film and every individual shot should look like. Therefore the artists aren’t bouncing between versions and various different looks which can take up valuable time. On “Avatar”, especially as the show went on, shots we delivered for first look usually only needed polishing and tweaking before the shot was near final status. There were a few occasions where we would show him a version of a shot a few months after he first saw it and he would remember exactly how it looked and what changes were made.

what, if any shots appear in the trailers that you composited?

For the teaser trailer that was released in August I had about 8 shots. Mostly of the Thanator chase in the jungle and Neytiri in the forest surrounded by fire and smoke.

how many people worked on “Avatar”?

We started with around 300 people which is the usual crew for Weta. As the show went on and more scenes were being sent to us from production we ramped up to a maximum of between 800 and 900. Put it this way, it was a heck of a wrap party!

-

…at the time of writing, ‘Avatar’ netted $232 million on it’s first weekend. that’s a lot of money.

what’s over there.

crunch, crunch, crunch.

it was either my boots in the snow or my hands stuck from the butter strudel

making this sound

as I walked around, waking before Berlin had.

it must be 7am, I thought, as light was coming in, but few cars on the street.

I’ll walk here and back over there

it’s nice when you’ve recently been to a city and get to go back

no pressure to see anything,

it’s a walk for me and not you, this time.

crunch, crunch, crunch.

maybe a coffee, and maybe not – as the public toilets would be cold.

back to the wall, and out there a spire sticks out.

it was still too early for anyone back home to be up, so I couldn’t get in the gate anyway.

an adventure! an early morning adventure!

in 4 trips to Berlin, I’d never walked to that spire.

it looked a long way away, but sometimes the best things are.

crunch, crunch, crunch.

a shortcut through the park, a park encased by a part of the wall.

have you stood next to it? it’s not that tall – nor was it that wide.

past the lady and the dog – I guess here they could just call it a ‘shepherd?’

then down the steps [crunch, crunch, crunch.] and across the way, by now I was right under it.

there was white snow. and a dark cathedral top. and me – with my coffee.

around the bend and to the front – St. Sebastian’s church, my favorite saint of all.

the bells rang once, I suppose it was a quarter-to-something, 8?

I could head back, maybe.

surely someone is up.

Nicky. or Emily.

[not Alonso, that's for sure.]

crunch, crunch, crunch.

everyone was up by the time I got back.

it was 11am and some.

Berlin just woke up quietly, and let me have my adventure.

so thanks, Berlin, for letting me have an adventure,

crunch, crunch.

even if it was only a little one.

crunch.

mentor.

this is a photo of the first time I got on the mic after a 4-year hiatus. it was in a big, big building, complete with armed guards and walls that kept both things said in, in. and things said out, out. sitting across from me is a guy named Ken. he had somehow found out I had radio experience and came to me with an idea – teaching English and Chinese via something called a ‘podcast’. so we met and we wrote and we recorded and then we produced this idea. the rest, as you know, went well. ChinesePod became a worldwide phenomenon. thru that whole time – even before, in the conceptual stages, Ken mentored me. he also looked out for me. he gave me money sometimes when I didn’t have any. and to this day, he never let me pay for a drink. [and let me tell ya, when you're spending hours-upon-hours in a small homemade studio, there's a lot of drinking.] he took care of me. and he took care of others. he was the creative pulse behind what was once a promising product. he would sit and listen to my ideas and push me to try them. he came to everything I put on. he came for Scott’s 4-hour funk session. he even funked on-stage for us once. he’s a goodfella. and he is someone I consider a friend. I say all of this as recently, as things do in Shanghai – a company he started with another made the press for closing up overnight, with everyone involved fleeing the country. money is owed both to students and teachers. rumors of ‘thugs’ visiting the schools are flying around and no one’s really sure what to believe. I don’t know what happened, but have spoken to a few who do. their story is out there if you’re really interested. but I’m writing this to say that Ken ain’t the type of person who would be behind this. the others, Steve and Brian? you betcha – I know from experience. but not Ken. is he caught up in it all? sure. but again, he ain’t that type. I don’t know what’s going to happen, nor do I really care. but with all the shit flying around, here’s one guy who owes his career in Shanghai – one that led to many more opportunities – to Ken Carroll. which means I knew him pretty well. and he ain’t the type of guy who does this.