Andrew Bird: Fever Year (2011)

Fever Year will have its World Premiere at Lincoln Center as part of the prestigious New York Film Festival in October. A European Premiere has been secured (details TBA.) That festival told me FYR broke their record for swiftest turnaround time: submission-to-acceptance, 24 hours. They gave it a compliment that propels these final days of post-production: “it is a film as beautiful and understated as a portrait of Andrew Bird should be.” Next week it’ll be two years from the day Andrew and I were sitting on his porch and he asked me to make a film. Two books got me through the past six months of FYR: Shipwrecks of Lake Michigan and Just Kids. So many reasons why. I hope you get to see FYR in your town, soon.

Shooting in Utah

Am completely dedicated to the new picture, a doozy currently titled Mormons Make Movies. My master collaborator and old friend Aaron Wickenden (who shot documentary portions of Fever Year and recently co-edited Steve James’ The Interrupters) and I have been shooting in Utah, Illinois, and Michigan – prepping a demo funded by the ITVS Diversity Development Fund. The film is in early stages, so it easily swings between breaking my heart and charging up my bones. This film will take us to Mexico too, where things could get Real.

During a blizzard in February I stood in a small intersection near my house and watched a minivan aggressively burn to its frame as firefighters shoveled snow around it. They couldn’t get their fire-truck near enough to put the blaze out. Despite the fierce radioactive stench, the minivan’s burning carcass was one of the more gorgeous things I’d seen in a while, with steaming tires surrounded by charcoal snow. Neighbors gathered round for the urban sculpture, a blizzardy art-exhibit. How many of us, even for a moment in our minds, let a little something horrid burn with it?

How can it be that just three months later, on a beach 90 miles from Chicago’s surly funk, I resumed swimming in Lake Michigan? I’d stood at that very beach, frozen on Christmas Day, amazed that three months previous I’d stripped down for my final swim of the year. Am still impressed by how stunningly beautiful and under-recognized that inland sea is. And that when I lived in California, I believed so deeply that the Pacific was the only water for me.

Hosted my fifth annual (and final) Chicago Short Film Brigade show in Dubuque, Iowa. An enjoyable eve, followed by a happy afternoon at my favorite museum in all of America, the National Mississippi River Museum and Aquarium.

Days later, my dear friend Aaron Wickenden and I shot pickups for Fever Year, which Liz Kaar and I are threading into the film.

I then jetted to the Kansas International Film Festival real quick to host a screening of Milking the Rhino, which picked up the Audience Award for Best Documentary Feature. Had the honor of connecting with the ladies of Women in Film Kansas City! A formidable bunch.

Soon as I got home, I shipped out on a freelance producing gig in Southern Florida. A quick hit managing two crews and interviews during a finance conference. Nuts and good. After a handful of 16-hour days, I said goodbye to the crew, grabbed my swimsuit from its briefcase hiding place and ran down to the empty beach at the Ritz Carlton for a moonlight swim. One of those unexpectedly magical nights. A top swim of my life. Flew to Chicago early the next morn.

Home for 24 hours, I hosted my second-to-last Film Brigade show at the Hideout. So cozy and comfortable. Am in love with this season’s Jury.

Next morning, our beloved Howard Reich and I flew to Minneapolis and drove 1.5 hours south to Pepin, Wisconsin for the excellent lil’ Flyway Film Festival. My second year there. Soft place in my heart for Flyway. We hosted a screening of Prisoner of Her Past and four hours of short films. Howard is my new favorite person to travel with.

Took my sixth flight in seven days and went straight from O’Hare to the Hideout for the final Brigade show of the season. A comforting finish. We go dormant next year so I can finish a film and start a film.

Am home for a couple weeks UNTIL! I start up with an exciting! new! out-o-town client! later this month. We’ve been in talks for a year. An incredible project.

Over the summer, I was hired on two separate occasions to do yoga on camera for print (Secret brand deodorant, ha!) and web (Disney.) Posted here is an outtake. I cherish the well-being felt during those photo shoots… Chicago winter now looms.

Photo by Andrea Mandel

Sussing set list (on floor) during prep for shooty

Past few months have been intense and exciting with production of a concert film I’m directing, commissioned by Andrew Bird, chock full of gorgeous performances from two live shows we shot in October. We had just six weeks to prepare this multi-camera HD shoot. There’s been much to navigate, given the highs and lows of my nearly eight-year friendship with Andrew. All teams involved are overjoyed to discover that despite dude’s raging fever and flu, the performances translated beautifully to both audio and visual. We’re editing the film now. (above photo by Mark Boyer)

It’s thrilling to announce forward movement of a documentary film I’m directing called Mormons Make Movies about my personal connection to the LDS film industry. I’m fascinated these days by those navigating their creative and social identities within religion. My mom starred in a cautionary tale about marriage while at BYU in the early ’60s and married my dad just a year later at the age of 20. I come from Mormon pioneers and left the religion for good when I was 20. Read about MMM here

Film Brigade was on hiatus this year while I reorganized the board, my life, and started my new film (among 100 things).

We’re back! Board is now comprised of the original three founding board members: myself (photo center), Andrew Bird (absent on picture day), and Jason Vassiliades (left). Ryan Jewell (right) joined the board this month after a year of solid, inventive volunteering. 2010 Season looking gorgeous.

Home Video on New York Times Website

I made this home video years ago.  A hot weekend, the three of us hung out in the barn for hours while they recorded. I baked an apple pie, shot tons of video.

During a break in recording, Andrew and I went for a long walk in the hills. When not shooting, I slung the camera round to my back so we could play frisbee and race each other uphill. Dan opted to stay back and read. It was 2005.

This past Christmas, Andrew asked if he could post the video to his blog on the NYTimes website. I was reluctant at first. We’d just spent months undoing our deeply intertwined life. The barn was a compounded and painful loss for me. Winter without it was unbearable.

Ultimately, it seemed fine to match the video with Andrew’s blog. I sat down and trimmed two minutes off the home movie. Shuffled things around. Tightened scope, threw on some credits.

What I shot that day was a thorough gathering of everything I love about the farm. Only a tiny piece of that is in this video, tailored to the recording process.

I love that it feels like a Sesame Street minifilm of sorts – like the one where they show you where milk comes from or how bread is made.

I’m pleased with how Andrew tied it to Noble Beast.  We were together for three albums. I remember each melody’s birth – on a walk somewhere together in the world, in the shower, doing laundries. Kayaking the creek together, playing frisbee, making breakfast at home.

Nearly five years together culminated in a parting of ways full of snot and tears last autumn. This video doesn’t in any way sum up what the barn means to me but I’m glad it was made.

Working on the road’s been excellent. I decided at the last minute to edit a short film to use as projections for the Mpls shows. We spent morning at the hotel’s waterpark, then parted ways (Andrew off to do press and pre-show freakout). I spent the day in our hotel room with cranky old iMovie, editing Lisa Barcy’s MERMAID down from 17 minutes to 7. We used it at the show that night and the next. A total blast. (Photo by James Tran)

This was culmination of a project I’ve been working on since Spring: visual projections for Andrew’s live performances. This batch features the beauty and glory of work by Arthur Ganson, Britta Johnson, and Bill Brown.

Arthur Ganson‘s machines are spectacular. I’m thrilled he allowed us to include his films in a blitz of Film Brigade shows AND trusted me to edit them for projections. Working editor Amanda Dunlap, I built a light storyline out of Ganson’s handmade gears, the little yellow walking chair, mysterious clapping eggs, and unforgettable flying paper wings.

These were selected from Arthur’s films (which he shot and edited) of his original sculptures and feature “Thinking Chair”, “Machine With Eggshells”, “Machine With 23 Scraps of Paper” and a few spare parts from others. An excellent fit for Andrew’s “Opposite Day”.

I first saw Britta Johnson‘s short film “Post Nasal Drift” in 2002 and it knocked my pants off. PND is a compelling, gorgeous, astonishing myopic stop-motion animated microbe adventure. After matching Britta with Andrew for his first-ever music video (Imitosis), it was easy to see how PND would live on stage.

With a bit of nudging (editor, Angelo Valencia) to reduce from the original 11-minute length, PND fits flawlessly with “Simple X” and the brand-new “Anonanimal”. Andrew played the latter for the first time (outside of our house) at the music video premiere we hosted in August. The visuals were an unmistakable match.

In describing the visuals he imagined for “Armchairs”, Andrew told me he wrote parts of this song alone in his van on the road in Kansas – with wheat fields out the window. As I understand, “Armchairs” also developed after Andrew realized how far away from everything his work had taken him. Family crises occurred without him as he satellited further out into the touring atmosphere.

After countless viewings, Bill Brown’s  “Roswell” STILL manages to be haunting, amusing, epic, and intimate – all in about 17 minutes. What better a match than this beautiful film (16mm color) about vast highways, big lonely sunsets, and the idea that each day on the road is part of an amnesiac starboy’s dream?

Big thanks to Britta, Arthur, & Bill for sharing their work. ALSO, for their assistance and/or advice: Mike Bulington, Chicago’s own James Bond, Amanda Dunlap, Angelo Valencia, Whitehouse Post, and Roger Beebe.

Show photos via Flickr, courtesy of Brianne Karabetsos (2nd, 3rd, 5th from top), and Aubrey Dunnick (#6).