We couldn't work out whether the card should be in focus, or the rest of the scene.
It's been a learning process.
White card
To get a white balance for video you hold up a little bit of card in front of the lens, take a picture, and then tune the image accordingly.
Then we realised that we couldn't tune the image if we completely covered the lens.
The card covers the central point of focus in the shot.
We couldn't work out whether the card should be in focus, or the rest of the scene.
It's been a learning process.
We couldn't work out whether the card should be in focus, or the rest of the scene.
It's been a learning process.
I'm not sure what to write really. I'm not very good with success. Failure seems more tangible, easier to digest/dissect. Success always seems like too much good luck to me, and last night we were lucky.
We set up early, laying out the cables and lights methodically so that we didn't put too much power through any of the plugs. We brought down another generator to power our spotlights and had a mountain of fresh fuses at the ready.
The volunteers that had been corralled in to holding the torches for us by Tim's Mum - Jess - started arriving from seven. Andy and Matt, Tim's brothers, lit their torches and directed them around the pool as it was getting dark.
At one point the generator blew out - probably a power surge from a loose connection - and we thought we were in trouble, but when we reset the trip switch, it was fine and chugged away happily for the rest of the night.
When it was almost completely dark we had another run, and when the flaming torches were doused in the pool, we turned the floodlights off. Andy and Matt got the timing perfect and the whole scene tumbled in to darkness just as the torches went out.
I followed the torch holders, recording them as they did their first run. They spoke about the pools - I overheard one of them saying that the last time they had been here was 1968. The kiosk above the pools stayed open late, and gave everyone free coffee when we finished.
The volunteers left at around ten, but we stayed until midnight, getting close ups and different angles. We got home at one and fell in to bed at about three. Today, all we've done is eat a large breakfast and fall asleep on the beach.
Thanks to everyone who came down, and all of Tim's family who provided manual labour, transport, food, drink and patience.
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Next week we'll be interviewing people who were involved with the night time galas, but don't expect a blog tomorrow. We're off out for a booze. If there isn't a club called, 'Gurners' in Guernsey, I'm going to be very disappointed.
The volunteers left at around ten, but we stayed until midnight, getting close ups and different angles. We got home at one and fell in to bed at about three. Today, all we've done is eat a large breakfast and fall asleep on the beach.
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Next week we'll be interviewing people who were involved with the night time galas, but don't expect a blog tomorrow. We're off out for a booze. If there isn't a club called, 'Gurners' in Guernsey, I'm going to be very disappointed.
This was going to be a blog about failure and about how events beyond (or, technically, within) your control can bring the most carefully planned project to its knees.
---
We were fully prepared for filming the pool under lights last night. The floodlights were delivered and in place - after only a slight incident where they almost rolled down the hill and in to the pool. We had about twenty extension cables, a set of two kilowatt lights, three smaller 'redhead' photography lights and three halogen builders lights. We had a plan - floodlights overhead, builders lights providing fill for the water in front of the camera, the two kilowatt lights spotlighting the diving board, and the redheads providing any extra fill that we needed.
We got them all in to position, flicked the switch and blew the fuse.
We had no access to the fuse box and no way of getting access, short of kicking a door down. Tim looked like his head might explode. He has been doing this weird nervous yawn thing since we got here, and I thought this might have pushed him over the edge.
We fannied around for a while, and then decided just to film what we could under the floodlights, which were powered by their own generator. We got some amazing shots, but from what we could see on the camera's screen, the diving board wasn't visible which meant that we couldn't do any of the shots we had originally planned.
We called it a day at about eleven o'clock, packed up our kit and drove home. Tim was tired and didn't want to look at any of the shots that we had taken, but we had a beer and decided to see what we had.
The video was beautiful. The light was golden, with strong shadows. You could see bugs scuttling across the floor, the rocks around the pool became almost luminescent and in the background of the shots, you could make out the diving board. It haunted the shots - invisible to us as we filmed but now, clearly defined and lending its presence to everything we watched.
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As well as the night shots, we got some great footage of the daylight fading away with a still shot of the diving board, and various dips and pans with our new favourite bit of kit - the jib. Dave was the undisputed jib master, and if it didn't cost about £5000 to buy one, then I'd get two - just for round the house. Serve drinks with it.
We caught a few early evening swimmers in our early shots, and Tim took some photos of this guy who we have seen a few times since we started going down to the pool.
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This was going to be a blog about failure (and I like failure, so I was quite looking forward to it), but if the lights hadn't gone then we wouldn't have got the shots that we got, and we wouldn't have had to work hard to find the details that we found. I feel like the film will be a portrait of the pool, and last night we had to get up close to the pool in a way that we wouldn't have been able to, if everything had gone the way we wanted it.
---
We were fully prepared for filming the pool under lights last night. The floodlights were delivered and in place - after only a slight incident where they almost rolled down the hill and in to the pool. We had about twenty extension cables, a set of two kilowatt lights, three smaller 'redhead' photography lights and three halogen builders lights. We had a plan - floodlights overhead, builders lights providing fill for the water in front of the camera, the two kilowatt lights spotlighting the diving board, and the redheads providing any extra fill that we needed.
We got them all in to position, flicked the switch and blew the fuse.
We had no access to the fuse box and no way of getting access, short of kicking a door down. Tim looked like his head might explode. He has been doing this weird nervous yawn thing since we got here, and I thought this might have pushed him over the edge.
We fannied around for a while, and then decided just to film what we could under the floodlights, which were powered by their own generator. We got some amazing shots, but from what we could see on the camera's screen, the diving board wasn't visible which meant that we couldn't do any of the shots we had originally planned.
We called it a day at about eleven o'clock, packed up our kit and drove home. Tim was tired and didn't want to look at any of the shots that we had taken, but we had a beer and decided to see what we had.
The video was beautiful. The light was golden, with strong shadows. You could see bugs scuttling across the floor, the rocks around the pool became almost luminescent and in the background of the shots, you could make out the diving board. It haunted the shots - invisible to us as we filmed but now, clearly defined and lending its presence to everything we watched.
---
As well as the night shots, we got some great footage of the daylight fading away with a still shot of the diving board, and various dips and pans with our new favourite bit of kit - the jib. Dave was the undisputed jib master, and if it didn't cost about £5000 to buy one, then I'd get two - just for round the house. Serve drinks with it.
We caught a few early evening swimmers in our early shots, and Tim took some photos of this guy who we have seen a few times since we started going down to the pool.
This was going to be a blog about failure (and I like failure, so I was quite looking forward to it), but if the lights hadn't gone then we wouldn't have got the shots that we got, and we wouldn't have had to work hard to find the details that we found. I feel like the film will be a portrait of the pool, and last night we had to get up close to the pool in a way that we wouldn't have been able to, if everything had gone the way we wanted it.
I'm writing this blog in the past, (like a ghost, or mystic meg) as tonight we will be busy filming down at the pools until late at night.
We picked up the tripod, camera head, jib and 8 kilowatts worth of lighting this morning, but last night we went down with a few halogen lights and tested out some shots with close lighting.
The light moves quickly on that side of the island, as the setting sun is shielded by the high hills behind the pool. The halogen bulbs gave everything a golden light, eerie and absurd.
I like the idea of having lights in shot, the technical viscera of a film set lingering in the edges of the frame.
Production shots are intriguing and mystifying - the camera you can see is pointing at something else that you cannot.
These remind me of a nativity scene, or byzantine paintings where gold leaf signifies the shining light of God. Light in darkness is always meaningful, or at least, potentially meaningful.
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The interplay between sound and the image will be essential to how this film is perceived. That seems like an obvious thing to write, but we'll be using field recordings from around the island, some of which will be at odds with the visual element of the film. This disjoint between what you see and what you hear is something I want to play with, so we are getting as much recording done as possible to give us a wide range of textures and timbres to play with once we start editing.
Here, we are recording the sound of the flaming torches as the wax melts and burns; it gives off a low rumble with pops and crackles, unfortunately it can't compete with the sound of passing aeroplanes and the occasional car.
I don't know how we decided that the film should involve using expensive equipment near fire and water.
Here I am, looking pissed off that Tim has ruined a good recording with the sound of his shutter.
We picked up the tripod, camera head, jib and 8 kilowatts worth of lighting this morning, but last night we went down with a few halogen lights and tested out some shots with close lighting.
The light moves quickly on that side of the island, as the setting sun is shielded by the high hills behind the pool. The halogen bulbs gave everything a golden light, eerie and absurd.
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Here is a link to a BBC Radio Guernsey program featuring Tim. Click through to 1 hour and 35 minutes to hear the interview - http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/console/p009lr19
Being interviewed alongside Tim is Heyward Quevatre.
Heyward is veteran of the outdoor pools, and a 94 year old Sarnian who swims in the sea at the same beach on the north-west coast of the island every day.
Tim popped over to pick up Heyward before they went to the radio station. Heyward chatted about the pools, told a few stories, showed a few pictures, and demonstrated his tuck dive.
Next week we'll be going back to visit Heyward, Tim is going to swim with him (in the sea) and I'm going to record him speaking about the pools (in his house, hopefully).
Being interviewed alongside Tim is Heyward Quevatre.
I forgot to say yesterday, in the first blog, exactly why we were travelling to Guernsey, which seems ridiculous now, but at the time I didn't think about it.
We are making a film about the outdoor swimming pools on the east coast of Guernsey. On Thursday and Friday night we will film the pool under floodlights, and recreate a procession of torches that were part of the night time swimming galas that took place there in 1960s/70s.
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Today we drove around looking for a microphone cable; getting stuck in traffic jams and staring at people with bad tattoos. We picked up our flaming torches and then spent some time wandering round a builders merchant. I like builders' merchants, and this one was a classic. I saw two well thumbed soft porn magazines, a man calling another man a gaylord, and a machine that sold coffee and tea for 15 pence a go.
Later on we went down to the pools to test out some shots and see if we could get any audio recordings.
We had also been told about an excellent vantage point from which to film the pools so we carried all of our equipment up several hundred stairs and got some amazing shots of the pool.
We waited for the sun to set, hoping to catch the moon. Eventually we settled for some long exposure shots of the pool in the dying light.
Text by Matthew Giraudeau
Photos by Tim Bowditch and David Angus
We are making a film about the outdoor swimming pools on the east coast of Guernsey. On Thursday and Friday night we will film the pool under floodlights, and recreate a procession of torches that were part of the night time swimming galas that took place there in 1960s/70s.
---
Today we drove around looking for a microphone cable; getting stuck in traffic jams and staring at people with bad tattoos. We picked up our flaming torches and then spent some time wandering round a builders merchant. I like builders' merchants, and this one was a classic. I saw two well thumbed soft porn magazines, a man calling another man a gaylord, and a machine that sold coffee and tea for 15 pence a go.
Later on we went down to the pools to test out some shots and see if we could get any audio recordings.
Photos by Tim Bowditch and David Angus