The Creation of "Shorty, Put it on the Floor"

I just wanted to try something new: creating notes as I go along, while generating the footage for the video. That way I can remember the little interesting stories, that often happen long before I finish the cut. Especially now; I've got three videos entirely shot, but unedited, and another three underway. I'm cutting a pilot for Sony (yes, I do paying gigs, as well), so it's hard to move forward on any cutting, but a free afternoon, and a warm spell, made room for a productive time shooting and playing downtown.

I started with a very productive alleyway today. I was looking for direct light to take advantage of, but the alleyway had plenty of very attractive bounce light, from the opposite wall being all lit up, and I stumbled upon it first, so I decided to start my day there.

At first, the big pile of cardboard boxes looked like something to work around, but I got to realize a dream today: of piling the boxes, and using them as a landing pad. I started with a little trepidation; I don't usually launch into something with this many unknowns. Every leap is just a guess, or even a hope; there's no way of knowing how much resistance the pile is going to give me. But I've been preparing myself, learning to fall, learning not to take offense at impact, and even accepting blows to the face, which is the first place I got hit, on my first jump. But after that, I started to relax and, despite the flimsy support the boxes (sometimes) gave in slowing me down, I began finding new ways of releasing into the pile, and just surrendered to whatever landing and impact came my way.

After enough boxes were crushed, I started laying out the flattened ones as my safety net, underneath, so if I fell through, I wouldn't land directly on asphalt. The one bruise of the day (on my left elbow), happened when I missed the safety net. It was a big loud alarm when it happened, but I remembered not to take it too seriously, and it faded fast, only reminding me later when I'd bump it again (or now, as I have to type with my elbows off the desk).

After the majority of the boxes were crushed, and there was no structure to slow my fall, I started exploring what was left of the boxes as props and dance partners, finding how they wanted to move around and with me.

It was at the end of this play that a homeless guy came up and asked if I needed help putting the boxes away. I was very clear that I didn't have money to offer him, and that I was going to do the work myself, but he involved himself anyway, and put a bunch of the flattened boxes away. Maybe he's just a very helpful guy.

I knew of a homeless dude in Richmond, VA, like that: a very helpful guy. All day, most days, he'd stand at an intersection of Shockoe Slip, and direct traffic from the side of the road. The drivers, of course, would just follow the lights, but the guy was always there to help make sure everyone knew what was going on.

The tire took some getting used to. I played with a truck tire in "Elephunk", but the idea of standing up on a truck tire raised lots of red flags and worst-case scenario stories. But (as I figured it would be) it was quite easy and calm. I'm sure that time and opportunity will bring more truck tires for me to play and learn from. Unfortunately, it was also very messy, filled with rainwater that stunk of beer (and maybe urine?).

I found more props in the form of a long cardboard tube and a roll of stiff black paper that had been rolled around the tube. I jousted with the tube on the back of Z, and used the paper as a flag.

I also destroyed a wooden shelving unit that had been thrown out. It was a nice way to explore attacking something, primarily with my feet, and breaking apart something that was very robust to begin with. My iPod had already crapped out, so I wasn't really dancing, just kicking the hoo-ha out of it, but hopefully it'll fit into the larger video.

The Creation of "Badder Badder Schwing"

"Badder Badder Schwing"

The first moments of the making of the video were characterized by stumbles, but sometimes stumbles turn around and become the brightest moments.

On my 40th birthday, the day I started to shoot "Jook Gal" , I suffered a little heartbreak. I found a beautiful location near USC/County Medical, a brilliantly orange construction scaffolding, with lots of diagonal support beams, and had an excellent dance on it. Only when I got home did I realize that my camera had been in the wrong setting, and the entire take was out of focus, unusable. It's the risk of being my own cameraman; I don't always know what I've got until too late.

So, on my first day with "Badder Badder Schwing", I decided to head straight for that structure, take advantage of it, before it disappeared. Sadly, it was already gone, a victim of over-productivity.

I looked around for something else to shoot, and saw some train cars nearby, sitting idle on the tracks. By chance, they were identical to the black tanker cars that ended up in the video, but I never got to climb on these ones. I had just set up my camera, when a train engine drove up, hooked up to the black tankers, and started pushing them away. Well, I could take losing the tankers, but I could not possibly miss the opportunity that was suddenly presented to me, and so, as they rode off, I rolled camera, and leapt onto the back of the engine car, the last shot in the video. No one even saw me, and I leapt off shortly after we moved into shadow.

Thankfully, the trestles were also there, and served as my first dance partner of the shoot. The sun was setting as I played on them, so I had to move progressively upward to stay out of shadow. I had thought to wear the brown jacket, because I thought it fit the Fat Boy Slim song, but dark clothing disappears in the dark, which is why I'm always wearing colorful shirts, otherwise.

I did get spooked on the trestles, I admit. There's a psychology to getting spooked. I had played all over them, with no rush, no trying, but as I climbed toward the very summit (featured in the next-to-last shot), I began to imagine what I was going to do. And that's a mistake; if I think ahead, instead of focusing on where I'm at, then I lose the reality of the now, and get out of my own awareness. That's the same problem I had had with the tree jump from "Grand Avenue". I first imagined the jump while walking along the hand-rail, and that leads to vertigo, and getting spooked, and that lead me to weeks before I could attempt the jump.

In this case, it wasn't weeks, but literally an entire length of the song went by, without me doing more than inching my way up to the top of the trestles, standing, and slowly allowing myself to get back to the frame of mind in which I can dance. It's a good lesson in not getting ahead of myself.

The Hollywood sign I went to on Thanksgiving, because I wanted to take advantage of the holiday, and do something that normally wouldn't be allowed. I figured that there had to be fewer park rangers in the Hollywood hills that day. I was most interested in actually getting on the letters, themselves, but the difficulty of reaching them without being spotted was pretty daunting, and posted signs warned of a pretty big fine (and I'm pretty broke). In the following passersby video, I had a first conversation in which I was informing someone else that he was trespassing, cuz usually someone's pretty eager to tell me.

The same guy I was talking to actually ended up joining me on camera, dancing in front of the sunset, my first guest appearance. But that's footage for "Ah Ndiya", which I'm still editing.

So much of my shooting has been around the industrial corridor and railroad tracks that line the L.A. River, on the east side of downtown, that I was happy to take advantage of being out of that neighborhood, and drove around Hollywood at night, looking for well-lit places to shoot. I saw a Ralph's supermarket with a rooftop parking lot, and figured it was a good place to play, and it was, but it wasn't until I decided to enlist the shopping cart that I realized my true purpose there.


I had another heartbreak at the truck repair yard, specifically for an opportunity lost for this blog. I snuck in, danced, and then this big guy appeared around the corner, and asked me gruffly what the hell I was doing. I swear to God, I thought: oh, this is gonna be great for the blog! I told him I was shooting a dance video for youtube; he looked at me like I was crazy, and then he walked away. Didn't say I could stay, but he didn't say I had to go. When I was done with the song, I went back to the camera, but alas! It wasn't rolling at all! (My only excuse is that I was very tired from shooting). I considered leaving, having obviously overstayed my welcome, but I couldn't stand the thought of walking away from that beautiful set-up, when I hadn't even been asked to go, so I snuck back in, and did the whole dance again!

As always, I am eager to share my falls and stumbles, because it's well-earned footage. No hard crashes, but some nice near splats!

The Creation of "Jook Gal"

IMP-Style: "Jook Gal"


One thing that stands out for me about "Jook Gal" is that my first day shooting it was on my 40th birthday. That's right; I'm a bit of a late bloomer. I've loved dance for a long time, but I only started making it a big part of my life in my 30's. I started handstands at 30, floorwork at 35, parkour at 37, and of course, IMP-Style this year.

I used to have a really bad back; I literally first went to see the doctor about it when I was 10. My muscles would spasm easily, my hands were tight and cold, and the doctor called it "childhood arthritis." In my 20's, I found myself getting injured often and with little provocation, muscle pulls in shoulders, neck, back and rear. The circulation in my feet got so bad by 27, that I took the elevator down from my apartment, rather than the stairs, and I had to rub the pain out of my feet every night in order to go to sleep.

When I was 32, my back went out for about 3 months. Couldn't work; I could barely look for work. I remember getting out of my car, with resume and reel to give to production companies, and having to cling to the car door while I waited for my back to calm down enough to stand straight. I had just fallen back in love with dancing, and I despaired that by 40, I would be utterly incapable of continuing with dance.

But the injury turned out to be godsend; it forced me to start paying attention to my body. I took a great class by a gifted teacher who led exercises based on Continuum and Body/Mind Centering. In short, what she taught was paying attention to sensation, and learning about my body from the inside.

I now speculate that my original tendency toward tension and injury was born precisely from my inattention to my body. I grew up with a blood phobia; I was the guy who would pass out in the back of health class when they showed the surgery movie. So I learned to experience my body as gross; even feeling my pulse (e.g. when getting my blood pressure checked) could make me feel woozy.

Added to that were life habits that led me astray: the guy habits of sucking in my gut and sticking out my chest, of trying to walk straight. All those years of trying had ossified muscle habits, so I had a permanently stiff and sore body.

The class I took reversed the trend of shutting down, and the pattern has been one of opening, of becoming youthful, ever since. I have literally stretched and danced my way back to health, and then to a level of health that I've never experienced before. The biggest thing is paying attention to all sensation, including pain, not trying to exclude anything. The next most important part is learning not to fear injury, which of course has led me to parkour and motorcycle riding. Also, letting go of social fear is a huge part of learning; I practice break-dancing at a venue filled with amazing B-Boys in their 20's, most of whom started before they were 10. If I worry at all about looking foolish, then I learn nothing there, but if I can just explore, and see what is currently available to my body, then it unwinds and learns new skills, entirely without me trying. This is all very Zen, of course, and in that same vein, I grow best when I just accept the way things are, rather than trying to force something on them. This is the key to learning props, just play with them without trying, and let them show how they want to interact with me. This is also where IMP-Style brings everything together: I get on my obstacles, without intent of dancing a certain way or attempt at making something happen, and I just pay attention to how the obstacle feels, and trust that the dance will emerge.

Speaking of props, "Jook Gal" gave me the chance to explore a bunch of different kinds of props, especially bent rebar. Not many of them showed up in the final cut, however, because I didn't spend enough time getting to know most of them, and some just weren't very promising visually. My favorite, of course, was the coiled red hose that showed up a few times. I still don't know what it was for, as I just found it in some debris, but I liked its bounce. The following is a montage of some of the prop play that didn't make the cut.


My locations were wide-spread for "Jook Gal", reflecting mostly how soon the sun goes down these days. With standard time, it gets dark about 4:30 right now, so many of my outings were short-lived.

One of the most productive days was when I took advantage of a temporary site, close to home. There was street work being done, including a 50-foot pit in the middle of Beverly Blvd. This was definitely one of the situations in which I needed to just let go of the self-consciousness of being visible, because I was right in the middle of a busy street, dancing on construction gear.

Since it was a temporary site, there was no construction when Google Earth snapped the satellite photo, so you'll just have to imagine the gear there.

I find a lot of great locations near my motorcycle shop, which suggests the unfortunate truth that my bike is in the shop WAY too often (don't buy Chinese motorcycles)! That area is full of railroad tracks, shipping and packing companies, and in this case, a few abandoned buildings with easily accessible roofs.


As always, I'm happy to share my tumbles, because at least then I know they counted for something. The most gnarly-looking one, at the end, was shot on the first set-up on my 40th birthday. I am happy to announce that it didn't hurt at all.

The Creation of "Grand Avenue"

IMP-Style: "Grand Avenue"


As much as I love hip-hop, after the first three IMP-Style videos, I wanted to try something new. I've always loved dancing to jazz drumming, and Amon Tobin's "Bridge" has all the firepower I needed to create a sustainable vid. Of course, naming the video "Bridge" would likely just confuse the viewers, because there are no bridges in it, so this is the first IMP-Style I haven't named after the song.

Grand Avenue is exactly what it sounds like: the most expensive real estate in downtown L.A. Bank buildings, concert halls, museums, government buildings. I got to dance on the steps of Disney Hall, on the flagpole of the Superior Court building, in and around the fountains of the Music Center and the County Administration complex. The reflecting pool I leap over is part of MOCA, the Museum of Contemporary Art, and I rolled down 45 steps of the California National Bank.


Even though Grand Avenue was my first IMP-Style in the ritzy part of downtown (Bunker Hill), it was hardly my first time playing there. In 2007, I worked at a TV network near Glendale, and it was an easy ride from there, through Chinatown, to spend the last bit of daylight playing on the structures. Even though I started doing parkour at Century City, Bunker Hill is really where I started earning my wings.

In the following video, which I shot one day after buying this camera (a year ago), I just played around one square block of Bunker Hill, namely the Hahn Administration complex. Many of the same features appear here, as in "Grand Avenue."

However, the stairs I rolled down in the older video are from the Music Center across the street, which is where the stairs dance, pole slide, and fountain silhouette scenes were shot.


Not everything was shot on Grand Avenue, however; I cheated a little. The set-up that was furthest afield from that was the tree jump from the pedestrian walkway, underneath the overpass. I remember well the first time I attempted that jump, because I didn't make it. Didn't fall, just got spooked. An easy jump, but a helluva consequence, if I messed up: a 25 foot drop to concrete below. Once spooked, it's hard to get past the mental hurdle, and I backed off on my second attempt, as well. On the third try, however, I went up to the overpass, got on the tree from there, and climbed all the way down. Once I had my hands on the tree and felt the places I needed to land on, it seemed doable, and I haven't been spooked about it since.

When I had previously played at Bunker Hill, I always came after 6pm, so the whole area was largely deserted. That was not at all true this time around, as I went earlier in the day, to shoot several set-ups before dark. The following outtakes are some of the encounters I had with passers-by, including security telling me to scoot.

At the Music Center, when I first went there to dance on the stairs, security told me that they didn't allow "professional" shoots on the grounds. Which evidently just means: I can shoot, as long as I don't use a tripod. So all the takes there were shot by placing the camera on benches or walls.

Surprisingly, no one gave me any trouble at all for dancing on the steps of the Walt Disney Concert Hall. I thought that was going to be the swiftest eviction, because they have cameras dotting the place. Some guy on the street, who was handing out fliers, watched me playing around, and when I was done, he offered me a flier for a dance performance, since it was kinda obvious that I was into dance.

I wear my mistakes proudly, because it shows I'm entering new territory. I've only been doing parkour for a couple years (started at age 37), so I'm a student to each new obstacle. Thus, I am happy to share my bloopers. The last, and most dramatic one, was a dance I attempted while climbing a tree, but it's hard to make tree-climbing look on-beat, so I didn't end up using it in the cut. At least it served the purpose, of giving me a dramatic spill to complete this blog!

The Creation of "Elephunk"

IMP-Style: "Elephunk"


One thing I love about IMP-Style is that it's limitless. Since there are an infinite variety of objects and environments on and in which to play, there is also no end to my discovery process. In "Pass That Dutch", I shifted my ratio away from "top-rocking" (bipedal dance), and towards more 3-dimensional dance exploration. That set the bar for me, and Elephunk shifted that ratio even further.

My first location was a place I had briefly explored (and been kicked out of) previously: the Amtrak maintenance yard. Such great structures to enjoy! I knew there was risk in this one, especially as I had recently been cuffed and detained for trespassing on railroad property, which I was fortunate enough to get on camera.

I've already posted the video of the arrest, so here's the video of the deputy, searching vainly for my camera, while I sat, cuffed in the car:


There were workers at the Amtrak yard, but they were the cool Latino labor types, not the uptight white management types. They didn't bother me at all, despite the fact that I shot in three separate locations, with two takes each. When I danced in the doorway of the engine car, one of them shot video of me with his cell phone camera. Amusing, because each time I glanced back, he quickly turned, to act as if he was shooting the train car he was working on. Didn't bother me any; the worst thing that could happen was the he'd post it on YouTube! ;)

The bridge-like structure at the Amtrak yard is part of a parking scheme they have, wherein a train rides onto this enormous turntable, and it rotates to allow the train to park in one of several radiating spots. Unfortunately, I didn't have control over the turntable, or believe me, I would've had it spinning during the whole dance. Maybe for a future video?

I thought the turntable was going to be mostly a parkour/dance stage, but then I found the brooms that had been left there, and realized that I needed to include them in the dance. In the bloopers video, below, you'll see how I tried to use up to three brooms at a time, but I needed a lot more practice, so only the play with the single broom made the cut.

Props are an important new feature of the IMP-Style, because it's just the micro version of parkour. In parkour, I explore with my body on the solid features of a concrete world, and with props, the object plays on me (the truck tires are somewhere between prop and structure). I attacked the brooms with some confidence, because I've had the chance to play with them before. Inspired Mayhem's third video was a contest entry for Swiffer, and my fellow IMPs and I danced with all sorts of cleaning utensils:


The big change in how I approached Elephunk (vs. the earlier IMP-Styles) was that I indulged in second takes. In the first two solos (and in the duet with Outi), I just set up the camera, and shot only once per location (with a few exceptions). But when trying to approach a subject as new as the red train car was, with all its little ledges and lips, there's no opportunity in one take, to even learn it, not to mention really relax into a dance. Of course, second takes and trespassing don't mix that well, so I still have to be as efficient as possible.

Speaking of trespassing, of course I got accosted by security (who thought I was nuts), one police officer (who thought I was a tagger), and kicked out of the cement mixing plant (who knows what they thought?). Some of which I got on/slightly off camera:

Both guys used vulgar language, but they were kind enough to call me "bro" and "partner". And nobody pressed charges. :)

The cement plant was a beautiful find. I was having Z (my motorcycle) tuned up nearby, and wandered over to this gorgeous tempting spot, with absolutely zero signs of human life. A ghost plant. I wandered in, to see if any alarms would go off, with my cover story of shooting this unusual sign that I saw posted:

Of course, as you can hear in the video above, there were indeed people on the premises, but by the time they shooed me out, I had already shot two takes on the mixing vats, and was busy exploring the see-saw like ramps that I think are used to help spray water into the cement trucks. The truck tire was shot just outside the plant.


Of course, the further I go in trying to explore new territory, the more likely I am to make mistakes. So far, no more than a few bruises and scratches (knock wood), but some of the bloopers are worth sharing:

The Creation of "Hey Ya!"

Inspired Mayhem: Hey Ya!


I had been dreaming about making this video for awhile. I loved all the Inspired Mayhem collaborative play, but since all the people involved were dancers, it seemed odd that we almost never (other than Cisco's Garage) danced to music. Logistically, it was always easier to just bring the props and camera, shoot what I could, and then edit it to a song that fit (which eventually, YouTube would ban for copyright reasons, but that's another blog!). Besides, the creation of a music video is kind of weird, because you have to dance to the same song, over and over again.

My original concept for "Hey Ya!" was to shoot only one or a few dancers at a time, all in the alleyway, with a similar background, and just rotate dancers through, so I could intercut between the different groups. However, like everything else with IMP, the plans I make must been thrown away, if the whim of the crowd goes in a different direction. People didn't want to stop dancing, and I didn't want to ask them to.

I produce each shoot, but I cannot force anything without bruising the collaborative spirit which brings others into it. Inspired Mayhem is exactly that: I can help get the mayhem started, but then I just have to trust in the participants' inspiration to make the magic happen. It's not even herding cats; it's meowing nicely, and then getting out of the way, so the other cats can come play.

(Speaking of which, I have to tip my hat to Craig B., who did all the camerawork on this one, allowing me to focus on connecting to and enlisting dancers to join in. Like so much else we've done together, don't know what I woulda done without you).

Guest bloggers: Marci and Arlys
Marci: It's like unraveling myself like a spiral staircase down into the trunk of the tree in a mysterious forest... as the camera is rolling and our interactions take place, I feel the inevitable momentum of possibility's-edge and what-if and let-go and try-this go ballistic - HEY YA! the shoot has a life of its own, capturing us all in a dynamic vortex that spills out, surprising ourselves in new directions, configurations, juxtapositions ...and it's so exhilaratingly free! My hula hoop breaks and I celebrate its undoing, a symbolic opening to new shapes that include more... bodies, energies, vibes, colors, radiance... IMP is a-bun-Dance of US. - May we continue to discover ourselves anew - Marci Javril - www.youtube.com/marcijavril

Arlys:
"No think - just move, no think - just groove".

The Creation of "Pass That Dutch"

IMP-Style: "Pass That Dutch"


My third IMP-Style video (and second solo) was burning to be shot. I was still all-fired up about "The Anthem", and Outi and I had just collaborated on "Rub My Back". After spending most of the day cutting for our duet, I'd run out with Z (my motorcycle) and shoot bits for "Pass That Dutch." (Z actually has a few cameos in the video, in the background in a couple of shots, and in the frame with its light on for a night scene).

If you read the Anthem Blog, you'll see that my initial inspiration was simple: just top-rocking (bipedal dance) in an urban environment. In the Anthem, I found a few three-dimensional variations (railings, wall supports), to change it up some, but with "Pass That Dutch", I really wanted to expand that.

I have been playing with parkour for a couple of years now, and more specifically, I've been "adventuring." Adventuring is not always about physical feats, but is also about facing other kinds of fears, like fears of being caught, when trespassing. For example, I was shooting some parkour for a Stick's Riffs at the train yard recently, when I was arrested, cuffed, and put in the back of the squad car by L.A.'s Sheriff's Dept. Thankfully, I had my camera rolling:

Also thankfully, the Sheriff and his Deputy just let me go with a warning. I immediately went out and trespassed some more, because you can't let fear rule your adventure.

So I was determined that "Pass That Dutch" would combine my love for dance with my taste for adventure, and sought out locations that would let me dance, in the face of my own fear.

My main location for "PTD" was City Fibers, a paper recycling plant that takes up a couple city blocks just below downtown. They had already shooed me away, when I earlier went riding through on Z, scouting for fun stuff, so I knew I had to play it lo-pro.

In the following clip, I lost my balance while climbing on an enormous pile of recycling bins. What scared me was not the near-fall, so much as giving myself away, because there were workers just over a fence. You can see me looking out to see if I had been noticed.



Just around the corner from the bin pile, inside a fence, was this beautiful canyon of paper bales for recycling. I had noticed it, the first time I drove through, but there had always been someone in or around there. Then, on my third time snooping around City Fibers, I saw the gate open, and the canyon empty. The light was perfect, and I knew I had to sneak in while the opportunity was ripe. Of course, I didn't escape unnoticed. In the following clip, you can hear the forklift rider say: "What's up, fool?" I walked out, but, of course, as soon as he had passed, I raced back in, and that served as one of the opening shots for the video. I always love, when possible, including the chance passerby or incident as an element in the video.


Another such element was the truck that passed underneath me, when I was dancing on the train signal structure. This is right next to the L.A. Times building, where the rail road tracks (that bring the Times their paper) crosses the road. Just a moment of the truck shows up in the video, but it's always nice to reveal just how precarious and foolish my dance locations are.

What you can't see on camera (because I didn't include the road in the shot), was the cop car that turned the corner literally five seconds before I was about to climb. Having just been arrested for trespassing on railroad property, I count myself lucky.

Probably the scariest location for me this time was the overpass (over Washington Blvd.). It wasn't technically difficult, but it was my first shot of the day (and I had to hurry, because the light was fading). It's much easier to face risk (and especially to surrender into dance in the face of risk), after I've warmed up into it. That risk was compounded by a couple of vagrants, who were somewhat belligerent about this unknown person with a camera lurking around their lawless territory, but they left me alone when I promised I wouldn't shoot them. Too bad, because they'd be a nice addition to this blog!

The Creation of "Rub My Back"

IMP-Style: "Rub My Back"

When I showed Outi my first rough cut of "The Anthem" , she immediately said "I want to do that."  She's never been afraid to get her hands dirty.

We went down the next day to downtown L.A., again, with no plan, no choreography.  But we've been dancing together for years, so our telepathy is strong.

I've been playing for a long time around the 6th St. Bridge (including driving on sidewalks, and other footage that will appear in the final of Stick's Riffs: Bad Driving). Some of that footage follows:  

One feature that I've been eager to include in a video is a block-long tunnel, utterly unmarked, that starts from under the bridge, and leads to a ramp into the L.A. river.  The tunnel entrance is in the background in one of our shots (lower right).

When we arrived in the river (no river at all, for those of you who don't know it, but a long concrete culvert), we found there was already some bad driving going on.  Three trucks were playing with hydroplaning on the shallow river surface.   I had taken Z (my motorcycle) into the river just the week before, on a lark, (and ridden down about a mile and back), but I kept mostly to the dry areas.  I don't know if our appearance made them nervous, but they left before we started shooting.

The river supplied backgrounds for four of our shots, including Outi's idea of dancing in the river itself.  A couple of homeless guys applauded us during the shoot, one of whom crossed frame and made the final cut.  As the sun was setting, three men hiding and doing some business in the bushes on the bank above us finally got us to consider leaving.  I've been playing around in plenty of rough and wild neighborhoods in L.A. after dark, but it's all new for Outi.

Back on the surface, we found that there was a Hollywood shoot happening right above the tunnel (it's a favorite location for the $ producers, as well).  We were hoping to get them into the background for a shot, but they wrapped up, just as we were getting ready.
The other spots were all within a half-block of the tunnel entrance.  The multi-tiered tan wall, fence track, and the long curb all front the bridge, and the street lit area was right across from them.  This was my first time creating an IMP vid using night lights, and I love it.  With summer faded into fall, there's such a small window between when everyone evacuates downtown and when the sun goes down, street lights help prolong my shooting day.  Dramatic lighting, too.

One of the toughest things about the shoot was the synchronization of two separate iPods. This is something we'll have to perfect for future shoots, especially when we have more people join us. This is a quick outtake montage of our absurd attempts at getting the song started, in all four ears, at the same time.

After just a few hours, we wrapped our first IMP-Style duet.  Although I had been playing with parkour and other three-dimensional dance, it was mostly new to Outi.  But you'd never know it; she threw herself into everything with no hesitation, and full commitment.  A beautiful first for both of us; it was also our first duet (after years of dancing together) caught on camera.

The Creation of "The Anthem" + IMP-Style.

The first IMP-Style video, to Pitbull's "The Anthem."

IMP has been creating play videos for the last 10 months, mixing dance, parkour, and some stunt work in there. And I've been playing with parkour for the last couple years, acting out my Jackie Chan fantasies around downtown L.A.

I was inspired by the following video, rough hewn as it is. It has within it the seed for what I've started calling IMP-Style, meaning dance that mixes hip-hop (and other dance styles) with parkour and environmental exploration. Big props to the guy for his bravery for doing what he has to do, with little concern for passers-by.

What finally occurred to me with "The Anthem" is what now seems obvious: a video that is more or less straightforward dance, but within urban rugged environments, and using whatever three-dimensional structures are available. It's parkour mixed with hip hop mixed with Contact Improv mixed with whatever.

As soon as I saw the video that inspired me (on the last blog), I grabbed my camera, jumped on Z (my motorcycle), and headed out to downtown. No plan, no idea of what I was going to run into. Indeed, this would be my first time really allowing myself to dance full-on, while outdoors in public.

Downtown L.A. has many amazing places to play, but the area near the railroad tracks / L.A. River has the richest collection of features, the least amount of people, and much of the best graffiti in town. I found a parking lot that was unsecured to start, and focused more on "top-rocking" (i.e. normal, upright, bipedal dance), to get me started. But right across the street from the lot was the 621 railing, which I had previously explored in a now-defunct Stick's Riffs video.

As with the previous and following set-ups, however, I planned nothing, did it all improv, and in only one take.

The real coup, however, was finding the abandoned building that takes up about half of the video. I had cruised by it earlier on Z, lucky glance, just saw the interior through a slat in the wood. But I saw some guy hanging out in front of it, and thought I'd come by later. When I did, he was no longer around, so I slipped in and shot until dark. I didn't head out to downtown until nearly 4pm, so there was little light left, and during the last shot (as you can see), I lost all my remaining light. As I was preparing Z to leave, the guy came back, and his reaction suggested that he lived there. A good time to roll. Of course, I'm dedicated to not destroying or defacing any of the places I play in, so no harm done.

It was scary, too, to see my own dance on-screen. We'd been shooting for 10 months, by now, so I was used to seeing myself play, but I had never shot myself dancing hip-hop, so it was a total mystery. I only knew how it feels. The greatest insight from watching the footage was not "change this or that". It was to remember to trust the flow. It was painfully clear when I tried to make something happen, rather than just allow the dance to move me. Most of that footage, of course, didn't end up in the final (some of the floor work is a bit forced). But more than anything, it was the reminder to trust, to allow myself to dance full-on, without reservation, and just have a good time with it. Sounds like a good prescription for life, too.