Assistant Directing: a training in selflessness

Last Saturday I was assistant directing under Ray Woo. It was the first time that I was on the field under a professional director, and my team was a bunch of fellow classmates. I don't think anyone had really prepared us for the level of commitment + professionalism expected of us. We were, after all, going out with 6 DV cameras that we had somehow borrowed from the other classmates to film an event; we expected to turn up maybe an hour before, film it, and go home.

On Friday's briefing, however, we learnt that we were expected not to arrive at 5pm, but 3pm, and have all the cameras labelled and checked by then.
"But we won't be able to get our hands on the cameras before the event," I hedged.
"Well, find a way," said Ray.
[subtext: It's your problem, not mine]

In that moment, the relationship between director and his first AD became immensely clear. The director was responsible for the vision, the first AD was responsible for making it happen. Now I've organised people before as a stage manager, and I've been service to someone else's vision as an actor, but never before – as far as I can recall – come together in such a mixture. The net effect, I feel, is being like a duck: to give the illusion of gliding smoothly on the surface, while frantically paddling underneath.

And so, getting the cameras was my problem, and I admit, if I hadn't been given this imperative, I might not have racked my brains to come up with the solution (Joe gives his camera to his wife, whom I will then pick up from Mong Kok) I did. Ray often talks about (沒中生有) creating something out of nothing) in the film industry, and this kind of imperative really does help one go beyond the conceptions of what one originally imagined possible.

On the day we arrived before Ray, and I was in charge of setting everything up before Ray arrived. By the time he did, he found us a bit behind schedule and in disarray; we were frantically trying to find where the "white balance" was on the cameras to calibrate them as intstructed, and because they weren't our cameras, we were having a lot of trouble.
I got in a lot of trouble for that, and it didn't matter why things were this way, the bottom line is, can you deliver the goods or not. In this case, no, I didn't. [The samaurai sword of performance. It reminds me a bit of the merci- get-off-the-stage imperative from Lecoq autocours]

The reprimand of course, fell on me as the one responsible. The director doesn't waste time chastising the underlings in the hierarchy. I was supposed to organise them, and I didn't do a good enough job.
In taking this criticism – and it really has been a while since someone has reprimanded me in this way – I had to deal with this emotional load. I noticed myself becoming more blunt with the people under me. I spoke louder and more curtly than it was necessary when someone approached me.
“Yes. What is it?' [subtext: this better be important]

We all have choices of how to behave when we receive an emotional load like this; and I'm still trying to figure out what the best response is. What I do know is that I don't want to contract and lose my sensitivity to my co-workers; I need to pass on the urgency without passing on the anger.

It made me realise too, that the director-assistant director relationship is much closer to a master-disciple (師徒) relationship than a teacher-student (師生) one. Being an AD is a training in selflessness, surrendering oneself in service of someone else's vision. And for me, that demands a certain degree of trust in the director as well as his vision.

I know Ray is a dedicated teacher. He yells at me because he expects a lot out of me; and because that is the way he has been taught, and that is the way the film industry hierarchy is run. It's made me think a lot about directing, and the kind of director I am or want to be. Well... we'll see.

Grandfather

I have the pleasure of free writing along with my students:

啊爺

When I was young my grandfather used to tell me stories. Lots of stories, such as about how he used to work in the army. He was in charge of counting how many bullets there were, and how many guns or grenades. He used to play football with the British officers – and despite being short and Chinese, he was very at it. (Or so he said...)

And then when I grew a bit older my grandfather started to repeat himself. He would tell me the same stories, about how he used to count the bullets. And I would listen politely, and bring him some tea and biscuits. (My grandfather, however, likes cold beer)

And then after my grandmother died my grandfather stopped telling me stories. He now sits on the living room sofa. Sometimes I wonder what he thinks about. I ask him questions, and if I ask the right question, like, "Were you ever in the army?' a story will come tumbling out.

Contact improvisation

Hong Kong hosts monthly contact jams*, and for the past two months we’ve had a good group. There’s a good mix of dancers and non-dancers. I need this mix. I need a place where I can feel comfortable dancing my fullest and not feel like I am showing off. I need a place where I don’t feel I need to impress anyone; which means that I have to be in a point in my life where I feel comfortable with myself.

I am home.

My relationship with Contact improv has been an on and off one. I do make the effort to find out where the jams are, whether I am in London, Paris, or back home for the summer. When I am not nourished in a dance practice (even acrobatics class is not the same as dancing), going to a Contact jam is immensely liberating. I am able to access a very important part of myself. When I was in Poland it was fun to rediscover – after the rigor of Jacek’s technique - how my body likes to express itself. And when I was in Paris or London, it was just good to dance and throw myself around the room. Acrobatics and movement analysis are not the same as improving.

And now, I am at a good place to return to Contact again. I really think of Contact and other more free-form dance structures like 5 Rhythms or even Viewpoints like mirrors… and mirrors can only reflect what is there. Thus, in order for my Contact to grow, I need to grow as a mover.

With my tai chi I am growing as a mover in a way I haven’t done since Poland. With both of my teachers interested in pushing me to my full range of flexibility and muscular strength (particulary in my stance, as tai chi is a martial art form), I can really feel the changes in my body. Physically I feel leaner and meaner than I ever have done before – I guess despite all the blips and blops work on my body is somehow accumulative.

*A schedule of HK contact jams (“Kontact Square”) can be found here