Probably because I’m new here; probably because I feel very transient, having moved house four times in as many months. Probably because I have no job, yet more work than I can handle. Fortunately.
In my early 20′s I would have tried to wrench control. Or built some pattern of habit and routine to compensate the feeling of such. And it’s not that I feel out of control at present, just that I’m learning to be buffeted by the moment and yield to the opportunities that present themselves, with no guarantee of security for tomorrow. It has taken me to the most interesting places.
Easter Sunday afternoon: following an extravagant brunch-turned-day-long-eating-fest, I have fallen into a food coma. I wake drowsily to my phone’s vibrations echoing in the mattress springs. Several friends are urging me to head out to a bar in East Village. It’s a holiday weekend and I really should be out socializing. Yet with this much work to get done I must stay in tonight to edit. I slide across the bed to rest my chin on the window sill. The sunset strikes the red brick apartments opposite me above a stream of activity on the Williamsburg street below: pedestrians filing from the subway, bus brakes grinding to a halt, a JFK-bound jet looming overhead and several men jabbering in what I think is Spanish outside the Deli below me, though I’m too tired to pick it. An ice cream van sings by. Rap thumps from a throaty engine pausing at a red light.
This is my world for the moment: New York. Sometimes I wonder what it all means, how I ended up here and where it is leading. One side of me thinks I should have an agenda for success – some preconceived path, a self-image probably formed in my late teen years, perhaps outdated. Another side of me says to throw away all expectations save one: to observe the new experiences Liberty throws at me and enter the path-unknown without fear.
Australian filmmaker inspires New York fashion icon Norma Kamali
NEW YORK -
“The minute I met Jack, I knew we would be friends forever.”
Fashion icon Norma Kamali walks alongside filmmaker Jack Feldstein, both dwarfed by 8-foot Glamazons at the launch of her KamaliKulture collection for New York Fashion Week 2012.
Why is that? I ask. “Because I’m small, and the right size to be a friend!” exclaims Jack, and Norma breaks into laughter.
In an increasingly common tale in the digital age, Norma discovered Jack’s neon animation films on YouTube in 2010. After a “first date” to see a 3D documentary, the techno-savvy designer, renown for being ahead of the curve, took on the challenge of making a 3D fashion film for her spring line last September, despite neither of them having worked with the format before.
“We knew fashion would look great in 3D because all their clothes really popped out of the film,” explains Jack.
This season they created two 3D films, one launching KamaliKulture’s timeless range under $100, and one launching Norma’s premium OMO collection.
“I think 3D is now, it’s not even the future anymore. When you’re shopping online, which is really where the future is also, you want to see the details and you want to see it ‘bigger than life’.”
Norma says that filming clothing has affected her design process. She’s aware the way clothes move, the texture on garments and the way patterns come to life are different in 3D.
Jack strikes up a conversation with Darla Baker, one of Kamali’s models, enamoured by her combined sense of humour and good looks. She’s hiding behind heavy-set brown-rimmed glasses and I ask her to pose beside her 8-foot alter-ego. Her image is also projected at both ends of the studio – models dancing playfully in white limbo.
Norma views typical runway shows as stylised and abstract and wanted to break away. Her intention was to create an atmosphere in the film that would not make women feel alienated by the fashion world.
Reflecting on his collaboration with Norma, Jack is particularly struck by her unerring eye for great beauty in every call she makes. “She has a great trust of her self and the people she picks – the models, cinematographers, everybody – to do what they do.
“I’ve learnt the most important thing is to trust your eye and your ability as an artist. If you can do that you will produce something good.”
Norma blushes at her friend’s praise. “Jack is totally inspirational for me in ways he doesn’t even know. There’s something about the way he sees life. It’s more his persona – that there’s always a possibility to do anything.”
She pauses, and then with a smile, “And so I have to congratulate myself for my good instincts for looking him up the minute I saw his film.”
And what’s next for Norma and Jack? “We have some secrets up our sleeves, so we’ll keep you posted,” says Norma, coyly.
“It’s very exciting,” says Jack. “As always, Norma is a little ahead of the zeitgeist. She sees an opportunity and then goes for it. That’s such a joyous thing to be around.”
The KamaliKulture fashion film is viewable on YouTube.
Advance.org Member Postcard from David Joshua Ford David is an Australian photographer, film and television director. He has studied in Canada, and is now freelancing his craft in New York City.
Where did you grow up in Australia?
I grew up in Canberra with a very middle-of-the-road suburban childhood. Sydney was exotic, in the way New York would be in later years.
Where are you currently living?
New York, New York!
What prompted you to move overseas and how long have you been away for?
One of my goals for my twenties has been to live and work overseas for at least two years. It’s partly just for the life experience, but mainly because there are loads of job opportunities not present in Sydney. I came via Thailand and California and have been in NYC for two months now.
What is your current position/role?
Freelance! I’ve been running my own creative business in Sydney for the last six years in film, television and photography. Coming to New York I have to build up all those contacts again, somewhat from scratch. However, I’ve found people always try to help me out and connect me with the industry people they know.
Do you have any suggestions for other Australian professionals wanting to follow a similar path?
If you are in a creative profession, I suggest building a good portfolio of work and presenting it well on your website. People don’t ask (or even care) about your education. They are listening for your experience, connections, ideas, confidence and pro-activeness. And have a few months cash saved up to kick start your time!
What is the one thing you always show to visitors from home?
Jazz in West Village and improv in East Village! I’d been to New York twice before and can’t handle another Empire State or Times Square visit. Central Park is always good and most museums actually accept a tip/donation rather than paying full fare
Describe your adopted hometown/current city in three words..
Multicultural, squished, endless.
Is there anything you miss about Australia?
After a few recent Skype sessions with friends wearing singlets and shorts, definitely the beach. The cold and snow is novel, but nothing beats sand, burning asphalt, salty waves and fresh air.
Why did you join Advance and what is the best thing about being a member?
I’ve found Aussie expats immensely helpful in settling in to a new city. Perhaps because we understand what it feels like as an outsider thrown into the concrete jungle alone. Hence, I have more Australian friends than American (I’m working on changing that!) through friend-of-friend introductions. Advance is a great way to stay connected to people and events from your mother country whilst abroad.
Please join us for the After-Set Independent Filmmaker Series special screening of four short films by David Joshua Ford followed by the feature-length documentary “Give Me A Shot Of Anything: House Calls To The Homeless.”
I came across a neat community group in Brooklyn tonight: the Fixers Collective.
It’s a group of people who work out how to fix their broken belongings. It’s not a tutorial. It’s a collaborative, practical workspace of puzzle-solvers with immediate results.
I learnt the difference between weft and warp when mending socks and pockets, how to reconstruct a laptop power-socket and how to pull apart a cassette player to clean its capstan. As I was leaving, they were even attempting to power up a VGA Packard Bell, likely a relic of the 80s.
In an age where it is cheaper to replace than repair, it was great to meet people intrigued by the inner-workings of their possessions, who enjoy repairing it themselves rather than outsourcing. There was a very relaxed atmosphere and I enjoyed the generosity of problem-solving as a group consisting of various ages and backgrounds.
It’s entirely free (although donations are welcome) and open to the public – anyone may bring their broken stuff for help to fix it! The group runs most (but not all) Thursdays in Brooklyn 7-9pm. For more details, check out their website: http://fixerscollective.org/
Amidst the emails, applications, networking, pitches and phone calls, I sometimes forget that I am in New York! As I left the apartment I’m staying at in Dumbo yesterday, my eye caught the Manhattan skyscrapers across the East River. I couldn’t look away. I’d grown accustomed to the city so rapidly I’d forgotten how unique it is. (It might also have had something to do with the unusually warm weather. That will generally relax you enough to take in the present moment.)
Whilst I believe in putting your head down for concentrated and focused work sessions, it can be counter productive in creative fields. When Peter Weir taught us at AFTRS, he told us African pop music was one of his sources of inspiration. Not understanding the lyrics helped his mind roam free.
I am enjoying how open-ended and free life is at the moment. I do feel like a bit of a drifter, sojourning through various houses, friendship groups and workplaces. I meet wonderful new people and take each day for the opportunity it presents. Strategizing how to break in to a new market is a fun challenge within itself. Freelance connections take some time to build. The hard thing is knowing where to look, and more so, knowing what to do first. There are so many tasks that can consume your time, and not all are necessarily essential.
I was so inspired by the view of the city that I allowed myself the freedom to place aside the obligation I felt to email, pitch and develop, and gave myself the freedom to play. I took myself down to the water for some long-exposure self-portraits – the kind that will likely be no good to anyone but my sense of self-expression.
This picture is my statement of how each season of our lives is fleeting; that our bodies will be gone before our landscape is.
Experience this present moment. Savour it. Remember it. For our days are fleeting, and our time to act is now.
This picture was taken shortly before sunset on ISO 50, f22, 1sec shutter with a circular polarizer on a 24mm lens, full-power speedlite on the second curtain sync, on a tripod with a wireless trigger on a 2 second delay.
And I got one. From our rooftop in Dumbo under the Brooklyn Bridge, facing One World Trade Center and with Liberty and Empire State like beacons in the distance, we counted in 2012 via the giant digital clock atop the adjacent Jehovah’s Witness Watchtower building.
Isn’t it peculiar how intent we are that New Year’s Eve celebrations be wildly entertaining? A dull NYE is as daunting as spending Christmas without family (although I was well looked after on the 25th…sorry mum and dad!).
As a child, the incoming year began on a beach in the dark of the South Coast of Australia. Simple, quiet; without drama. The most exciting it got was a neighboring family with domestic-grade fireworks.
Sydney and I have a strained relationship. Rarely has she proven herself. I was ditched by a friend one year, and after the 9pm family fireworks in Circular Quay, returned home to sleep it off, only to be woken by the all-too-cheery voices of my parents phoning at ten to twelve, wondering what magnificent things I was up to. Stirred by their optimism, I belted down towards Bondi Beach, only to hear the countdown and cheers before I was halfway down Hall Street. I was detached enough to reason the only thing worse than spending NYE alone must be spending it remotely with your folks.
The following year, celebrations began well at a party with new friends. But as midnight approached, the company splintered off, until I found myself walking the lonely tides of Manly on the phone to South Africa. God bless timezones. There is always someone to speak with.
We remember these first moments of a fledgling year because of the weight of expectation we give it. We could, of course, just lower the bar. My parents now play scrabble and drink tea until the clock strikes 12. They seem like happy, well-rounded folks.
I hope you have a magnificent year… stirred by the reminder of the passing of another chunk of time, another numeral notched… and that we’d better get on with it and do something vaguely more impressive than the year that once was.
My most memorable Christmas tree was a scraggly gum branch propped in the corner of my Grandfather’s farmhouse porch. It hadn’t even been cut – the splintered end pointing to the dusty concrete like a ballerina’s toe. The grey-green leaves back-flipped over the unnatural angle of its smokey-grey limbs, sparsely decorated with silver tinsel and baubles. I hadn’t even seen it go up. Just stumbled across it on Christmas eve and stopped, perplexed.
“That’s our tree,” said my Aunt nonchalantly, and kept on walking.
But I kept staring at it. It looked so odd to me, raised in domestic Canberra with a three-story pine tree in Belconnen Mall and a mother who toured the suburbs looking at the light displays and Santas perched on fake chimneys. All this amidst swimming pools and 113°F (45°C) heat, bushfires and daylight savings that kept me cruising on my bike until 10pm.
Seeing the irregularly shaped Christmas Gum made me realise two things: that we don’t need to conform to someone else’s traditions…and yet, how strangely we do try to meld our traditions to fit our new environment.
It’s a bit like Australian films. There is something completely edifying to see your own people and your own stories being told on screen (and equally horrifying when they cross the Pacific).
I’ve since seen the gleam in the eye of my American friends as they talk about waking to presents on a snowing Christmas day, putting their knits on to go tobogganing down the hill, returning sodden to fresh clothes, a glowing fireplace and mother’s Christmas roast. Since I am doing as the Romans do, I and five other orphaned Australians hired an SUV for the weekend and drove three hours upstate to Woodstock. We walked through the idyllic (and freezing) township to the Christmas tree float to have our photo taken with Santa, sipped on cider, brandied eggnog and mulled wine, ate an amazing roast and played poker and Monopoly by the roaring fireplace in our log cabin late into the night. We woke on Christmas morning to…well, the same barren brown woodland as the day before, but not to worry…drove our SUV up to Windham Mountain where man had made his snow for us to tube in!
On our way home we stopped by the original site of the Woodstock music festival – about an hour from the township itself. It’s just like any other field, but amazing to visualise 400, 000 hippies converging for three days of peace and music. And bathing in the nearby lake…a caption I unthinkingly added to the photograph above when posting to my friends on Facebook, much to their disdain.
One month into my one year in the US and where am I? Technically unemployed and homeless, but still having fun!
My first two weeks were spent on the west coast. I road-tripped with a friend from LA → Las Vegas → Grand Canyon → Yuma → San Diego → Orange County and back to LA. That’s about 1500-2000 miles on the wrong side of the road. We kept a penalty box for each mistake I made… and if you don’t count the 7 times I hit the wipers whilst indicating, then there were only 2 instances… once turning left into oncoming traffic, and another time my wheels drifting across the roadside marker. Spatially I’m used to the driver’s seat traveling down the right hand side of the lane, right?
Three weeks into NY now and I’m almost set up. I’ve forgotten how ridiculous some of the systems are here, like banks which charge fees but offer no interest savings accounts, phone plans requiring $500 deposit before they will enable data, the dependency on credit ratings and the bureaucratic government offices. Actually, to be fair, the lady at Social Security in Brooklyn was very nice to me, but I think that had more to do with my ticket stub being the same as her house number. My SS number sure did come through quickly though.
Through friends-of-friends back home I am being well looked after; I have met more Australians here than Americans! Despite its claim, New York does actually sleep. A deserted Times Square 1:30am one freezing morning proved that to me. But there are always people to spend time with, and I have to find work anyway….
Pictures are better than words… read on to continue the journey with iPhone pictures from my first month in the US!
I made my way down to the 2-month anniversary rally of Occupy Wall Street today. The recent warm spell had dropped to an icy breeze with rain, making it difficult to operate my camera.
Because the crowds are so heavily controlled by police in riot gear, much of the rally’s energy was distracted by police/protester tensions. I saw one girl being harassed by the police because they mistook her for someone else. She began to retaliate indignantly, only escalating the situation. A fellow young male protester pulled her away, urging her to drop it. “Look at them,” he said to her of the police. “They’ve never seen this before – they don’t know what to do. They’re just frightened cats.”
I enjoyed just being there as an observer and listening to the various opinions and attitudes of Americans conversing in the street. I’ll post the other half of my OWS pictures soon – I’m struggling with a 2006 Macbook…time to upgrade I think!
