by F.T. Rea
 |
| A memory documented by moving images that have survived the ages. |
The experience of presenting "Finding
Vivian Maier" (2014) to an appreciative audience on February 15, 2015,
was rewarding beyond what the Bijou Film Center took in at the box
office. Yes, the screening was the centerpiece of a successful
fundraiser. But it was so cold and windy that particular night the level
of success we enjoyed provided some extra measure of validation for the
overall concept of building a film center in the Richmond market.
The
size of the turnout at the Byrd Theatre, nearly 1,000, told us
Bijou-builders that Richmond has evolved into a more sophisticated movie
market than it was a decade or two ago. It's hard for me to believe a
documentary film of that ilk would have packed the house on a frigid
February night in the previous millennium.
However, it was thinking about the serendipity angle of how
Vivian Maier's
fascinating work as a street photographer was discovered that prompted
me to use it as the jumping off point to this short piece about
discovering and preserving some of the smallest parts of cinema history
-- the little jewels that have a special sparkle for a specific
audience.
The stroke of luck that had a pack rat-style collector,
John Maloof,
stumble upon a vast collection of Maier's negatives, prints and films
in an abandoned storage bin was almost magical. That he had the
determination and talent to turn the story of his discovery into a
well-received documentary feature (Academy Award nominee) is inspirational. It makes me
want more than ever to play a role in helping filmmakers and the heirs
of filmmakers to preserve and transfer their amateur films. It also makes me
want to be part of creating some sort of archive of amateur films shot
during the era that coincided with the Cold War.
For
example, maybe your wife's mother wasn't as good a photographer as
Vivian Maier. Still, she took the little movie camera she got as a high school graduation present with her everywhere for several years. Forty-some years ago Grandma shot
countless hours of footage of whatever was happening, including music festivals and anti-war demonstrations. Five years ago when
your wife inherited three boxes of 50-foot reels of her mother's films,
your two children were told they would one day get to see Grandma's
Hippie Movies -- the same movies they have heard their mother talking about
having seen when she was a little girl.
Now your kids are in high school and no progress has been made. Who has a Super 8 projector these days? And, even if you find one at a yard sale, do you want to risk running those precious old films through such a machine?
Help is on the way.
Later
this year, once the Bijou Film Center has purchased some key
components of a system to transfer 8mm and Super 8mm films to digital,
along with VHS videos, we will launch a business dedicated to helping
our customers liberate their old moving images from out-of-date formats.
Developments in this technology make it possible to achieve much better
results, these days, than what we've seen in the past.
The
Bijou's next fundraising event --
Music, Movies and Magic on May 17th at Hardywood Park (2408-2410 Ownby Lane) -- will launch the
fundraising campaign to acquire the specific equipment it will take to get us started.
More news about the show is on the way, but we can say now the we will
present three bands live on stage between 1 p.m. and 6 p.m.:
The Red Hot
Lava Men; Happy Lucky Combo; Avers (click
here to read the 4/29/15 STYLE Weekly article).
Our goal for this drive is to raise
the money over the summer to put us in
the film transfer business in the fall. Isn't it
about time for Richmond to have a non-profit Bijou Film Center that
specializes in making quality film transfers?
James
Parrish and I have become convinced that the demand to view digital
transfers of old home movies is only going increase. Eventually, some
Super 8 footage will be discovered that documents an aspect of history
and that will set loose a new wave of popular culture. Suddenly everybody
who has a box of old home movies they haven't looked at in decades will
want to see them (again). And, no one knows what discoveries will be made. We want to ride that wave.
We believe the films shot by amateurs -- whether they document a family vacation, or a softball team's reunion, or your Aunt Betsy's legendary biscuit-making technique -- are important and
worth preserving. They should be viewed in a way that won't put the original source at risk of being damaged.
The tugs at your heartstrings upon seeing long-lost family members or old pets reanimated by the magic of motion
pictures are just as authentic as the tugs inspired
by Hollywood big budget melodramas. Just as real, but more special.
Watching
"Finding Vivian Maier" was a trip. It could be said it was a ride on Vivian's time machine. Coming soon: Grandma's time machine.
Michael attended Flicker and decided to take my Super 8 class. Soon after he
offered to help design the Flicker zines I produced for each show. During the
first year or so I did them myself using the old paste up method and photocopy
machines. Michael and several other designers offered to take over the design
duties. Then, much later, I was able to return the favor and offer him a paying
gig doing graphic design work for the VCU School of Nursing.
