Post written by Ann Michel and Phil Wilde, principals, Insights International, Ithaca/New York City

 In 1988, we made a film about kids growing up poor in rural New York State. This period was before the internet and perhaps many of our readers were born. 
 

The kids who were willing to be in the film, with the parents of those kids agreeing, did so out of a sense of wanting to share their stories with us as filmmakers they trusted. We explained to them that this film would be shown to social workers and people in the business of helping kids throughout NY State. 
 

The film was used extensively as a way to introduce professionals to the world as these kids saw it, so these professionals could better serve them. 
 

Only kids are seen and heard in the film – the presence of the adults is felt but not shown.  We used only the first names of the kids, and did not identify the places they lived. When the kids and their families gave us permission and access to their lives, we all had a sense of the extent to which this film would be seen and used. 

Now the question arises, should we upload this film online? 

We all know what happens the moment something is posted. It can be watched and used (if it is good) by people worldwide.  It can be sliced into bits, re-mixed and re-used. It can be quoted and misquoted. We will have no idea about where and how it will be watched and used. 

Is this online environment fair?

Is this reuse a violation of the privacy of the participants? 

At the time the people in the film agreed to participate, this sort of thing was not technically possible. Now it is.

What are the ethics of uploading documentary films shot when the internet did not exist?

Blog written by Ann Michel and Phil Wilde, coprincipals, Insights International

A field production story

Back in the days before digital file recordings, back before camcorders, your field recording equipment consisted of a 20 pound video deck separated from a 10 pound video camera by a long thick cable. 

The mics were plugged directly into the deck.   Usually one had the luxury of working with a sound man (and in those days, alas,  they were mostly men) to monitor and run the sound side of the shoot. The camera operator stood apart, focusing on the picture.   

Our Big Problem

This arrangement works very well. Until the day someone neglects to attach the camera to the recording deck.   

When this happened to us, our once-in-a-lifetime interview with two famous glass sculptors speaking to each other for the first and only time ever consisted only of sound. 

Very good, clean, properly mic-ed sound, but no picture. Now what?

Our Solution

Fortunately, the two glass artists had plenty of artwork we could shoot after they left town.

In the finished show, we shot their sculptural works. We then cut back and forth, as if the sculptures were having a conversation. 

In this way, they "spoke" to each other quite well. 

Sound had saved the day.

Blog written by Ann Michel and Phil Wilde, coprincipals, Insights International

Why should you bother to create a sound track from scratch and mix together audio tracks into a sound track, a soundscape? 

Is it worth the effort? 

Sometimes less is more. 

What about silence? Try it.

Nothing challenges our busy brains more than to fill this silence, this void. 

A little silence can go a long way. 

Musicians know this. Without a rest note, there is no syncopation. Syncopation adds interest, as do many other musical forms. 

 

Go ahead. Get your viewers to work a little. 

Creating a good sound track requires great subtlety. And it is subtlety and nuance that separates competent, good work from great work.