EXTRA CREDIT: The Aronson Awards

I received the following email from a dear professor of mine, and decided this would be a wonderful opportunity to meet one of New York City's, and the nation's best media writers:

Dear all,

You're receiving this because you're either a journalist, a friend, or a social justice enthusiast who I believe would enjoy attending this event I've been working on for the past several months. 

On Monday, April 28th, the committee I am chairing this year will recognize the indomitable David Carr with a career achievement award and Andrea Elliott for her tremendous 2013 series for the Times, "Invisible Child," among others (see postcard below).

Held at Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt's elegant Upper East Side brownstone in an intimate, 100-seat auditorium, this will be a unique opportunity to hear about the future of investigative journalism from some of the field's top practitioners. 

Rebecca Carroll of XOJane (and previously the Black Voices editor at HuffPo and my own editor during our time at The Independent Film and Video Monthly) will host the event.

Feel free to write about it, tell friends, and of course, RSVP! 

Hope to see you on the 28th.

Best,

David

From the time the event began to the time it ended, I was in a constant process of internalizing all of the information I could as the attendees were truly some of the best writers in town. My interest in journalism and social justice peaked in the aftermath of my acquisition of an internship at NBC 4 New York, one that unexpectedly went from being a semester-long program, to an internship that lasted for three consecutive semesters. During my tenure, I was responsible for monitoring coverage on the station, including coverage written by David Carr.

Conveniently, Carr was to be recognized with a career achievement award that evening, and I was not planning on missing such a unique opportunity to ask him all of the questions I pondered regarding net neutrality and other topics he constantly wrote about in the media column of The New York Times.

Little did I know, I was going to be in the presence of journalists and social justice activists that were just as interesting and who covered such topics as the politics of business in the Middle East via Terrance McCoy's Home Invasion, investigative stories via Chris Hamby's Breathless and Burdened, and perhaps one of the most heart-felt - poverty issues via Andrea Elliott's Invisible Child.

Al in all, a fruitful event all around. I urge social justice activists and journalism geeks at large to attend future events organized by Hunter College's Department of Film & Media Studies - a great way to get an inside look into how these stories came about, and a wonderful networking opportunity with some of the industry's top writers!

Museum of the Moving Image - Visit Reflections

March 28, 2014. I must say, I spent the most valuable and memorable hours in this museum. If you had asked me if I cared to go to a museum a couple of years back, I would have nodded my head without hesitation. Today, art and the history and culture that comes with the latter is of primordial interest to me as I strive to better myself and take as much knowledge as I can following the guidance of revered philosopher, James Mills.

The few times I had been to Astoria was to visit my cousin, and that usually entails an 8 minute walk from the train station to her apartment and back to the train station and to my dorm. This, however, was an entirely different experience. I felt refreshed as I dragged myself out to get to work shortly after my visit.

First of all, Sesame Street is my all time FAV show, so finding out that it was shot in Queens was a pleasant surprise. Besides the numerous surprises I discovered while I was there; the staff at the museum were wonderful and incredibly helpful - I couldn't have walked out of a museum more knowledgeable than when I walked out of this one.

Jim Campbell's exhibition, Rhythms of Perception was incredibly inspiring; we are often presented with work that fits the norm when it comes to resolution, but Campbell took it to another level with his low resolution videos. His use of computers and other technology devices is a wake-up call for the endless opportunities for creativity that we have as human beings. I walked out with a memorable epiphany: anything is possible when you set your mind to it. His innovative nature reminded me that things do not have to be used for a single purpose, but instead, anything can be used to create, and recreate, aspects of nature.

My ultimate favorite of his works was the Last Day in the Beginning of March. The title is intriguing and the artwork itself is one you don't want to take your eyes off of as it is original and innovative. 26 light bulbs were suspended as they swayed with a combination of original sounds that evoked the feelings and memories of Campbell's brother's last day, hence the title of this unique artwork.

Overall, my visit to the Museum of the Moving Image is one I will cherish forever, and I plan on dragging every creative soul to this gem every chance I get.

Shame.

It's difficult to live in New York City and not walk around the city without earphones. Plugged in. All the time... is how I go to work, to school, down the hall to visit my friend in his dorm only a few meters away.

Yes... I use meters (the entire world does). But anyway, let us not get ahead of ourselves.

Recently, I vowed to take in the world around me. I live in one of the most diverse cities, and it would be a pity not to.

I walk out of my dorm onto the busy streets of the Lower East Side and rowdy New Yorkers are honking at each other, not surprising given the profuse amount of tension people live with as they get to and from work in their stressed selves.

I, then, walk down the block toward the subway station and arrive at the staircase which will lead me downstairs to the platform. Before I even set foot on the staircase, I am taken back by the repugnant smell of fried potatoes (the hashbrowns and their intense smell are taking over the streets). The smell of the hashbrowns isn't the only thing to bother pedestrians like myself; two men I usually see on the side of the McDonald's bother women as they pass by, and today, they decided it was my turn.

"Eh-oh mami! Como estas? Can I getcha numba"

The other one chimes in, "Hey-hey-hey. Why you gotta be like that? Come-on, now!"

And as if that wasn't enough, I hurry down the stairs, disgusted.

I spot a man in a white tuxedo staring me down from head to toe. I can't say I didn't see it coming, but the insistence was unbearable.

He simply did not stop. The word, ashamed, does not suffice to describe the feeling I felt at that time and for the rest of the week. Why was I ashamed? Of what, exactly? I cannot say, and I don't even know if this feeling is even justifiable as I had nothing to be ashamed of. I was dressed in a very appropriate manner, and regardless of my attire, I was not to be addressed to in that manner.

You're probably wondering why this post turned into a complaint, and from a subject matter being "what I hear" to "I can't stand people"! But that is how I felt at that moment, and this is how I feel at this moment, right now. Shame. Shame - not for myself, but shame for our civilization.

We have come so far, and yet fail to do the same with our behavior.

blog 4 Eden

I chose to analyze the short film Eden, in which two boys, one older and one younger, are walking through a caged enclosure, over an abandoned highway. The only things we hear are the wind and a pipe the young one is dragging along the caged enclosure. They look out to the empty road, and the little boy asks what happened to the cars. The older one answers ominously “They’re all gone, things were a lot different before.”  The young boy coughs. The older boy says “but you’re different from everyone we’re gonna find you a doctor” he says in a reassuring tone of voice.  One can safely assume from the characters’ interaction with one another that they care for each other in the way two brothers would. They continue to walk through the caged tunnel and there is a low angle close up of the older boy’s face- we are looking up at him, and up to him just as the younger brother character does. This establishes the older brother’s role as the protagonist.  

Cut to a medium shot of a very dry and dead looking field.  They walk through the field, a map in hand. There is no music in this film, only the sounds of the wind in the abandoned setting, the boys’ dialogue and the young  one’s coughing.  After wandering through the field for a bit they stop and the older boy kneels down and tells the younger one to wait there while he runs over the hill to the hospital where he’ll find a doctor to help.  As he runs to get help while the little one sits down, coughing away. There is a low angle shot of the older boy climbing over the hill and standing at the top of the hill and dropping the map. There is a grim feeling. He is looking toward the completely abandoned and empty hospital. The POV shots allow us to see what he sees, and feel what he feels.  He looks around and sees nothing. No one. Not a soul. There is an eerie feeling of isolation and hopelessness.  Cut to an over the shoulder shot of the hopelessly empty hospital. Close up of his face, the look conveys a feeling of helplessness. He slowly walks back into the field toward his little brother.

Cut to the older boy walking back to the field towards the little boy, with a grim look on his face. He reaches out for the young boys hand and tells him to come play. The young boy stops in his tracks and asks “what about the doctor?” When the older boy tells him not to worry about it with a more chipper tone of voice, young Max pulls his hand away from his brother, stops in his tracks and says, “I’m going to die” in a tone which can not be distinguished as a question of shock or statement of disbelief.  Before turning around the older boy, with a heartbroken look on his face, takes a deep breath as if he is about to explain something and turns to the young one with a cracking voice “Max…” only to see that the young one has vanished into the thin dusty air of the dried, dead field. He calls and screams out “Max? Max! Max?!” and the audience can clearly see and hear how panicked he is. Extreme long shot of him running into the field screaming out for his little brother.  We hear only the wind.

I think that these shots were cut in the right places, seamlessly. I found it to make sense. From the first scene, it was clear that the characters were on a journey of some sort, and that one was powerful and the other was weak. The editing allowed the audience to get a sense of the setting, and I think the lack of a musical soundtrack added to that. The ambient noise was just right for the tone of the piece.  The relationship between the different images is clearly linked by the desolate settings.  The land in the piece is dying, just as the young boy is.

Muslim Students in NYC

https://vimeo.com/95802381

Short Film Comments Blog 4

Short Film: Bad Motherf***** by Biting Elbows

This action-film/music video is uniquely shot in a mostly first-person view. The video keeps the viewer thinking its fast paced even though some shots are slowed. There are several edits that are well done such as when taking the dead men out of the care and then climbing in the car, the edits make it appear as if it were done in one shot and that filming is consistent even while shifting views. Some scenes are brilliantly slowed down to add effect to the high speed action, such as the scene where he jumps onto a man's body, a slight slow-motion has been added to the clip to show the actor spewing blood so it would be more apparent. My favorite scene has to be when the main character is thrown off the building into a hole that does inside the building and he falls about three flights until his arms catch a pole to hang onto.  The music also added to the speed and flow of the film, the beginning was ironic and gave a sense of death coming since it was so slow and soothing juxtaposed with a violent, rough fight.

Sounds of the City

As I make my way down 14^th street, with no headphones in my ears, I hear the sounds of the city and the city’s people. To my left a woman walks in her 5 inch stilettos clicking-and-clacking, chatting away on her cellphone. To my right a group of girls are giggling about a good looking man walking beside them, while their footwear is flipping-and-flopping. As I approach Union Square I begin to hear the drums and bells used by the Hare Krishna worshipers. The closer I walk to the group on the ground, the louder the music and chanting becomes. I continue to walk and as usual the street venders are all trying to sell their products, bargaining with passers-by. A man selling beauty salon promotional packages asks me, “Excuse me, Miss, when was the last time you got your hair done professionally?” Having lived in New York City for the past 6 years, I already know that this is a rip off and I am not interested, so I politely tell him “I’m broke, no thanks” and continue walking. I make my way through the park and as I pass each bench I hear bits and pieces of different conversations. A man and a woman, who appear to be co-workers, are talking about 'work ethic', a young couple confesses their love for one another, and a man on his cell phone is talking about a meeting he had earlier in the day. In the background I hear some dogs barking and birds chirping. And as I make my way out of the park I am greeted by the sounds of city traffic; a girl is yelling for a taxi, the sound of a bus stopping, and of course the honking of horns, belonging to drivers in a hurry.