Hugh Garry

Storytelling tips from Ken Burns

"The common story is 1 + 1 = 2... The real genuine stories are about 1 + 1 = 3. That's what I'm interested in" says filmmaker Ken Burns in this short film on the art of filmmaking and storytelling. Watching it I was reminded of a quote in Storytelling Tips from Ira Glass "You have to be really a killer about getting rid of the boring parts and going right to the parts that get into your heart. You just have to be ruthless if anything is going to be good. Things that are really good are good because people are being really, really tough". I don't think there is a wasted word in this entire video that punches you you in the heart. 

"We live in a rational world where 1 + 1 = 2. And it does. But the things that matter most to us, some people call it 'love, some people call it 'God', some people call it 'reason', is that other thing where the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. And that's the 3. There are great stories everywhere. Abraham Lincoln wins the Civil War and then decides he has time to go to the theatre. When Thomas Jefferson said 'We hold these truths to be self evident that all men are created equal' he owned 100 human beings he never saw the hypocrisy, never saw the contradiction, and more importantly never fit in his lifetime to free any one of them. That's a good story. The stories I like to tell are always interesting because the good guys always have really serious flaws the the villains are very. compelling."

Let them play

One of the saddest things about our educational system is that schools are too keen to turn moments of 'play' into moments of 'learning'. The crayon becomes the pencil then a pen. The lego becomes the exercise book then the ruler and protractor. As Ken Robinson said in The Element"

“Imagination is the source of every form of human achievement. And it's the one thing that I believe we are systematically jeopardising in the way we educate our children and ourselves.” 

When I watched Caine's story I struggled to hold back the tears as it reached it's conclusion. In part they were tears of joy for such a remarkable story, but also tears of sadness that his days of play may soon be behind him with his creative spirit dampened by an industrial model of education the sees work and play as polar opposites.

Less Cowbell

The Futureheads have a new album out this week. It's called 'Rant'. What's remarkable about it is it's an a capella album. A brave move for a rock group that have a strong fan base and four studio albums under its belt.

At this stage of their career bands can live or die by their next move. They've come through the 'difficult second album' phase, been touring for a decade and need to do something that is different but is more of the same. Usually the answer to that dilemma is 'more cowbell'. Or in other words, lets do more of the same but bigger. More guitars. More drums. More noise. And lets do it louder.

As mentioned in my previous post '4 lessons in creativity from The Artist' taking stuff away is always an option:

Creativity is about subtraction. What you remove is as import as what you add. If you're making a blockbuster like Transformers and you add more robots, you simply have a film with more robots. If you're making a film like The Artist and you take away the voices you have something 'remarkable'.

What's really interesting is that when you combine elements in a creative way (such as rock bands and a capella) to create something new interesting posibilities that arise as a result. For example you could argue that it took the arrival of broadband and Flash to make Youtube a reality. In this case touring the album becomes a completely new experience for the band and the audience. Not only is the cost of the tour reduced because they have less gear (on ticket price) but the venue's they can now play a different kind of venue. 

It's great to see the creative side of 'the industry' taking bold steps in risk averse times. 

Imagine... The trailer

 

I love the idea that books now need trailers. I read so many books based on trailers I've stumbled across rather than reviews. Never a great fan of reviews. Recommendations yes, but not reviews. 

I'm looking forward to getting stuck into Jonah Lehrer's new book 'Imagine' and wondering why I'm holding off putting the finishing touches to my own book on the same subject. I clearly need to give myself some restrictions to make sure it gets completed before I find myself back in work with no time to think. Perhaps I should make the trailer first detailing what's in the book and when it will be finished. 

Sorry, just thinking out loud. Watch the trailer. Read the book. Feel free to let me know if there is any need for another book on the subject or if it has all been covered by writers who can actually write, unlike myself.

He who seeks beauty will find it

Last night I went to see Bill Cunningham New York, one of the best films I've seen in such a long time. Bill lives a life of simplicity in a world of excess and glamour. He shuns the limo lifestyle getting around New York on his bicycle. He has few clothes and gaffa tapes them together when they fall apart. And he refuses meals at the celebrity dinners he attends most evenings in favour of a $3 diner sandwich.

Throughout the entire film you're constantly questioning how such a man survives in an industry that is so at odds with his own values. In a film sprinkled with touching moments the one that stood out for me was when it was revealed that BIll parted company with Women's Wear Daily because they had changed the copy of an article to poke fun at how people were dressed in some of his pictures. For Bill there was no 'In' or 'Out', just 'In'. There was no 'Cool' or 'Uncool', just cool. Why be derogatory about something that should just slip by unnoticed. Socialite Annette de la Renta later notes, “I don’t think we’ve ever seen a cruel picture done by Bill.” It's a cruel business, with questionable morals, which is why it will never be see in light as other art forms. If only it had Bill's values.

Here's a few moments of brilliance from the great man:  

"Everyone has taste, but they don’t have the daring to be creative."

"I let the street speak to me."

"If you don’t take money, they can’t tell you what to do, kid. That’s the key to the whole thing."

"Money is the cheapest thing. Freedom is the most expensive thing."

"It’s as true today as it ever was, he who seeks beauty will find it."

"The wider world perceives fashion sometimes as a frivolity that should be done away with in the face of social upheavals and problems that are enormous. The point is, in fact, that it’s the armor to survive the reality of everyday life."

4 lessons in creativity from 'The Artist'

 

I went to dinner on Sunday with a friend who told me that people in Liverpool were walking out of the cinema when they discovered that The Artist was a silent film. I shouldn't be surprised though. I'm sure there were couples choking into their popcorn in multiplexes all over the country when the realised that a silent movie actually means no speaking and no colour. Not even 3D!!! What was Hollywood thinking?

I was delighted to see it scoop a handful of Oscars last month. It's a brilliant and engaging film packed with lessons in how to be creative in whatever it is you do. Here are 4 to be getting on with:

1. What is not constrained is not creative. If you are faced with a blank sheet of paper to fill try add some restrictions of your own. 

2. Creativity is about subtraction. What you remove is as import as what you add. If you're making a blockbuster like Transformers and you add more robots, you simply have a film with more robots. If you're making a film like The Artist and you take away the voices you have something 'remarkable'.   

3. Talent imitates, genius steals. Borrowing from what has gone before is no bad thing. Singing the Rain was a brilliant movie.

4. Rethink deadness. Just because technology moves forward doesn't mean old ideas are bad ideas. 

 

Abundance: The Future Is Better Than You Think (SXSW12)

Invention & Inspiration: Building a Better World (SXSW12)

Why daydreaming is important to creativity

I've enjoyed some of the articles that appeared over the New Year about the value of silence. Switching off the laptop and stepping away from the iphone is this year's geek equivalent to going to the gym in January. Disconnecting is as hip in 2012 as connecting was in 2011. Everyone is switching off for the weekend as people try to kick the digital habit. There is even a new meal time game called 'Don't be a Dick During Meals with Friends' which requires everyone to put their phone in the middle of the table during a meal. The first one to pick it up to check their email or tweet has to pay for everyone's meal. 

I've recently been resisting the urge to reach for the iPhone as a way of finding time to daydream. Daydreaming is important. Soon after we leave the education system we find ourselves in jobs that require us to unlearn the behaviours drilled into us from our first days in the classroom. Daydreaming is probably one of the most of forbidden rules of the classroom, focus us everything, which is a nightmare for a young mind. As Alison Gopnik points out in 'The Philosophical Baby' it's not that children can't focus they're just not very good at not noticing. 

Creativity is about connecting things and thinking the unthinkable so it should be no surprise that daydreaming forms an important part of anyone’s creative process. Daydreaming takes your mind out of the realities of the moment and into the abstract via a series of mental connections. Scientist Jonathan Schooler from UCSB has done a lot of work in the area of the value of daydreaming and discovered that people who allow their mind to wonder score highly in tests for creativity. 

I love this quote from Virginia Woolf in her novel 'To The Lighthouse' which I stumbled upon via John Lehrer:

Certainly she was losing consciousness of the outer things. And as she lost consciousness of outer things, her mind kept throwing things up from its depths, scenes and names, sayings, memories and ideas, life a fountain spurting over that glaring, hideously difficult white space.

The fountain spurting out over the difficult what space is such a wonderful metaphor for the virtues of mind wandering in creativity. Allowing your daydreams to shuffle all those memories you have neatly stored away, remixing moments without your control and then spurting them out as a stream of visions you feel you had not active part in creating. What a perfect way to fill that blank page.

As screens steal our attention more and more the need to schedule daydreaming into our day is something we should all think about if we want to be creative in what we do. Close the laptop, put the phone away, use that spare 15 minutes you suddenly found in your day to let your mind wonder rather than giving it away to a device.

Terry Gilliam on 'where ideas come from'

The answer is 'little elves'. Sorry, but what would you expect from the man who brought Time Bandits, Brazil and The Adventures of Baron Munchausen to our screens. But yes, he's kinda right. The elves do play their part. Recently I posted a video of John Cleese talking about the creative pause. Now his Python buddy Terry Gilliam talks about putting faith in his pixies, or rather his subconscious, to find the connections that create his stories:

I used to say I knew where the ideas came from. Because I'd go to bed, and I'd leave my shoes by the bed. And I'd wake up and there'd be these little elves that would come in and put ideas in my shoes, and I'd just use them. 

I refuse to intellectualize, or try to understand how it happens. It happens, and I just try to ride with it. And the frightening thing is when it doesn't happen, it's actually terrifying because you realize, "I've dried up. It's finally happened: the well is empty." But, then if you get through those periods, then something starts happening again. A lot of what happens, it's like doing a painting without actually doing a sketch in advance. You just start and you got this, you add another thing, boom, boom, boom. 

Just for one example, The Wholly Family, is the scene in the hospital. There was always going to be a hospital scene and the boy would see himself as a baby. But then, I was in this place that repairs dolls, the hospital of dolls, and there was this little plastic egg with a Pulcinella in it, so OK, now we have eggs and that's how babies come. And it just changed it. It was beautiful. I think it's about having an idea and never letting it become rigid. It's just the beginning, and then you just see what you can pull into it. At the end, there you are.

I like that he has this image of elves doing the work for him. Ghosts make another good metaphor for idea generation. Like ghosts the ideas are always there, half formed, floating all around, everywhere you go, waiting to become a reality. Only you can see them because the ghosts are faint realisations of the experiences you've collected. As Gilliam says, 'they are not rigid, they're just the beginning, and then you just see what you can pull into it'. 

Like the elves in the night, the ghosts find you. Probably when you least expect them to visit. Gilliam's came in hospital for dolls. Newton's came when he was in the orchard. Archimedes came whilst he was taking a bath. The ideas come. Eventually. Having faith in ghosts, elves or simply a part of your brain that you don't control requires the kind of leap of faith that only people who believe in elves in the first place are likely to take. Another great reason to cling onto what's left of your childlike mind.