I'm working with footage this week from Italy's Hilltowns in 2001, shot in HD by Tom Speer, from whom I learned a TON about production and being a photographer. The basics of field production, I learned from him.
The thing about Tom's footage is that there are several tells that it's Tom's footage.
Couples, couples, everywhere!
An abundance of cats and dogs.
A super abundance of people smiling and/or waving to the camera.
Now, Tom did eavesdrop from a distance as most photographers do.
His strategy of choice, though, was to place himself and the camera in or next to the path he judged a person or a couple were walking. That way, he got the long shot of them. The eavesdropping shot. As they neared him, however, he made no effort to disguise his intent or presence. Most of the time, when they realized he was there, he'd give a quick wave and say hi! in the language of the place which is why there are so many smile and wave shots.
There were also these, though. That bit of realization that they're being photographed. They make quick eye contact. Then go back to what they're doing.
He chose to use filters from time to time but the production company whose equipment he was using didn't have a mount for his filters that worked with the wide angle lens he sometimes used so he'd just, for example, hold the graduated neutral density filter directly over the camera lens. Literally holding it tight to the lens with his left hand. Since I edited this show, I'd see his process because he'd hit record then place the neutral density filter. In the third picture below, in the bottom left and right corners, you'll notice a pair of tannish, fuzzy, a tiny bit transparent (ish) shapes that are actually the fingers of his hand that are holding the filter from the bottom. (click on the image to get the full-size version that shows those fingers clearly)
After the graduated neutral density filters, the one he loved to use was the star filter whenever the sun was just so.
If we were in a museum of any kind outside hours of operation with no tourists milling about, Tom would often lock the camera down and walk into the shot. Call him Nebraska Visitor At The Uffizi Gallery. (I poached these shots from the Florence, Italy footage that was part of the same shoot, the first part.)
And then this:
In the footage I'm reviewing, under certain shots, you can hear Tom speaking with the producer. At other times you can hear him talking to me.
Because I was on that shoot.
And this footage is our history.
Tom's been gone two-and-a-half years now.
Which is hard to believe.
Which is especially hard to believe because he's right. there.
Because I can see him and hear him.
Because he's talking to me.
I don't know why... but I'm always caught by surprise each time I dip into footage he shot. I'm caught by surprise by his presence. I'm caught by surprise because of the editor/photographer thing where as editor I'm in his head as he shoots the people and places he photographs in the way he photographs them. I'm judging his work, first and foremost. And then, at some random point, I'm caught flatfooted by the realization of his death.
But.
That moment quickly passes and I simply enjoy going through his footage, shot by shot, as I used to do once upon a time as a rookie editor making note of—
The couples. Always with the couples.
The abundance of cats and dogs.
The super abundance of people smiling and/waving to the camera.
Those moments when the person he's photographing has just realized Tom's presence.
The thing where he's hand holding a graduated neutral density filter over the camera lens.
Those star filter shots.
The thing where he locks the camera down and walks into the shot.
And then this:
The part where he's talking to me.
😊
So yeah. That was the thread running through my day yesterday because I had to go through all that Hilltowns footage from 2001 looking for shots in the Italian countryside.
I was actually thinking about all this on my commute home. And, as I walked away from the station at the end of the line to be picked up, still thinking about Tom, I happened upon this.
Tom's word for this was roadkill.
Why?
Because it's the kind of hat he'd find on location somewhere, usually in the middle of some road. His habit, his tradition if you will, was to nab this roadkill and bring it home with him. The first home of his I visited once upon a time featured these hats.
Featured these hats???
He had them lined up near the ceiling around his living room.
I don't know what to tell you. That's just how he rolled. And it's what he did with roughed up, beaten up, run over baseball caps he found in the middle of the road wherever that road happened to be.
My friend, Tom.
😌
