I was born smack in the center of New York City’s Greenwich Village. The neighborhood was an eclectic gathering of Italians, mixed Europeans, West Indians and Africans, all ‘worlds within worlds’, inside side by side apartments, with savory aromas wafting in the air. The gourmet smells mixed effortlessly, the people, not always so much. Cultural compliments of Jazz Musicians, Pipe-Smoking Beatniks, Café Artists, Poets, Bar Hopping Painters, Hippies and Guitar Strumming Folk Singers created the starring milieu. Weekends would pack the Village streets with tourists seeking ‘the latest ‘scene’. Ginsberg, Dylan, Baez, Mitchell, all performed in the cafes and music haunts. I recall standing on my stoop across from the Figaro Café, watching the giant tour buses go ‘round and round’, wondering why in the world people would pay to get taken through my neighborhood.
My Mom was an extraordinary beauty of Nordic descent. Artist, pianist and fellow partner raconteur with my Dad, whose handsome Black Irish and French features manifested in ‘real life’ the character Humphrey Bogart played on screen. He was a first generation American, bartender-restaurant man by trade, horse gambler by passion. Before my time he had been an Army Cook, semi-professional ballroom dancer, bicycle racer and welterweight boxer. I had no choice as a kid, but to learn how to play cards, box and recite spontaneous poems on my feet at a second’s notice. (a holdover from County Cork pub traditions no doubt, – along with every superstition imaginable) My family had a mix of bright energies allowing for deep felt experiences; from anger or sadness to outrageous madness and riotous laughter at a moment’s notice.
My beautiful sister, Patti, was always modeling and acting. Even before formal schooling, I was writing long stories in my own version of phonetic English. (to everyone’s humorous delight) We performed non-stop improv routines for anyone within range. I sang soprano in a professional church choir and acted in school plays. That later evolved into acting studies with William Alderson at the Neighborhood Playhouse and Herbert Berghof at HB Studios. Early performances at the Provincetown Playhouse on MacDougal Street and independent film projects led me to co-founding a theatre company, ‘Westside Players’ and going to NYU Film School. In between all that, I began studying Theosophy and partnered in a Natural Foods Restaurant called Zucchini on First Avenue and 72nd Street. (ZUCCHINI stayed in business there for over 20 years.)
I came out of NYU having made my own short films and working in film production as a Production Manager / Line Producer. Over a hundred commercials (Coke, Michael Jackson, Apple Computer, NY Nicks) and dozens of music videos later, [Tina Turner, Klymaxx’s “Private Party”, Bruce Springsteen, Duran-Duran, Cher and YES], I wanted to focus on films again.
I was lucky to be hired as the N.Y. Production Manager for the international film, HAREM, with Nastassja Kinski & Ben Kingsley. My older brother, Bill D’Arbanville, was a well-known Broker on the Floor of the N.Y. Stock Exchange. With his intros, I was able to set up the whole stock market trading scene with Nastassja after-hours on the floor of the American Exchange. We made her a believable ‘Day Trader’ and the actual Traders all loved being extras.
Pasqualino De Santis was our legendary Director of Photography (D.P.) on HAREM (Oscar Winning: ‘Romeo & Juliette’, ‘Death in Venice’, etc.) We put him and his whole entourage up in a suite at The Pierre (including his private Italian Chef & Crew, with special food flown in.) The next Sunday, we had an early morning ‘magic hour’ shot along the street in front of the N.Y. Stock Exchange. The NYC weather was to be clear early, with rain clouds in the later afternoon. It was a simple ‘pick up shot’, so we’d be in and out, off to our next interior location before any showers. “Mysterious looking women in black hajib dress stride around the corner and disappear up the street.” -Simple. I had the entire road and Wall Street intersection blocked off to traffic and pedestrians. We had a water truck wet the whole street. Smoke machines created a thick mist. The women did their walk, our shot was completed and we called to crew, ‘quiet for sound take’. I went over to Mr. De Santis for the protocol check-in, ‘Did we get the shot ok?’ I inquired. He did not look happy. “We’ll see” he responded. I could not believe my ears. (My usual film production would’ve sent a second unit team to film a scene like this. Here we were, with our whole production crew waiting, while he was taking sunlight measurements and comparing exposure levels with the previous day’s exterior shots!) I stood by ‘patiently’. His Assistant finally emerged from his camera truck. He had developed short-ends from the film rolls we had just shot, and tacked them onto a board. (This I had never seen done before) De Santis held them up to the sky, thoroughly examining them with his eye scope. We were now running a half hour late to wrap out and get everyone to our next location in SOHO. Our Make-Up Artist called to tell us Nastassja was having an especially difficult morning. She did not want to wait and run late for her own shoot day, preferring to cancel today’s scenes. “Could we shoot around her today and do pick-up shots with her another day?” “Not really”, I responded, “not without a good medical reason.” She still refused to see our set, ‘doctor on call’. Meanwhile, the weather had shifted. Manhattan was once again proving itself to be the island it really is. I ignored the miniature droplet that landed on my arm. De Santis nodded his head back and forth with a ‘tisk-tisk’ sound. His Italian accent offered a, “No, no, this lighting… it won’t match our other shots. He turned to me. “Mia dispatche, Philippe, so sorry, I don’t think the sun is going to break through enough this morning.” I found myself nodding back, mirroring him, trying to hide the shock in my body. Never had I experienced a D.P. calling a location for improper lighting. I went through all my mind’s reasonable, panic hidden alternatives. “We could put up some 10K Lights and raise the exposure level? or Increase the film exposure at the lab?” He shook his head back and forth, now exuding what I began to feel was actual pity for me. “No, my friend, I’m taking my lenses to the next location”, he offered getting up, “You can do what you want here, but today, it won’t look right.” His hand gestured in Italian, small circles from the heart. “The audience would feel upset.”
I had no choice, but to turn around and enthusiastically guide everyone to wrap out and get to our next location right away. I assured them that our brilliant DP had saved our film by not compromising the ‘visual truth in the moment’. What an expensive lesson in artistic integrity.
My Greenwich Village roots brought me back to Bleecker Street to work with the genius Swiss photographer, Robert Frank, and his brilliant writer, co-director, Rudy Wurlitzer. Robert was a renown ‘Beat’, underground photographer. His book of candid, portrait photos, taken of people throughout the States, “The Americans” had brought him famed recognition. His 16mm films were legendary for their counter-culture ‘agony awareness’. [‘Pull My Daisy’,’ featuring Poet, Alan Ginsberg, written and narrated by Jack Kerouac of ‘On the Road’ beat fame.] Mick Jagger loved Robert’s controversial Rolling Stones documentary, ‘Cock Sucker Blues’, but sued to not have it released in the States, fearing they’d never tour here again. [it included musician’s heroin injections and pot smoking music executives] Robert’s wife, June, was a highly respected painter, and lovingly mollified some of Robert’s acrid temperament.
Rudy, on the other hand, was a recognized Hollywood writer and published author with a winning personality. [‘Two Lane Blacktop’ and ‘Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid’] Rudy had also written a few smaller films for Robert that he’d made. [William Burroughs was in one] This new film, ‘THERE AIN’T NO CANDY MOUNTAIN”’ was to be Robert’s first bigger budget, 35 MM Feature Film. Given Robert’s artistic temperament, Rudy was the glue guarantor to see Robert through the multi-layered filmmaking process. The ground level of Robert’s Bleecker Street building, where he lived upstairs, became our ‘low road productions’ office. It was literally three blocks from the Bleecker Street apartment building I grew up in. Robert and I got along well enough. I became his ambassador to the professional film maker’s ‘crew’. I interviewed stylists, script supervisors, make-up and hair, lighting designers, and helped Robert understand each person’s contribution. How could they help him make his film better? Robert’s premise was, “What do I need all these people for? They’ll just complicate my process.”
I brought in Brad Ricker, a wonderful Production Designer/Art Director (now known for “Inception”, “The Terminal” “G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra”) I had worked with him on many projects. I introduced him to Robert. We sat down together and Robert asked me what Brad did. I said, “He’s a really good Production Designer, Art Director”. Robert turned to Brad and asked, “Yes, but, what do you do?” “Do you make something? “Well, yes, Brad replied, getting taken down to the primary elements of his function, “ Me and my crew, we design and make your sets, backdrops, paint walls, place furniture –“ Robert interrupted: “ If I’m the film’s Director, what art are you directing?” Brad looked at me with a questioning appeal and opened his copy of the CANDY MOUNTAIN script. He started sharing his design notes and questions with Robert. Finally, Robert turned and said, “I get it, you put my vision out onto the physical sets so I can capture it!” Deciding Brad had a practical, useful capacity, – thankfully, – he agreed to bring him on board.
Our patchwork budget of Canadian and French grants, along with different country’s investors, was extremely tight. We had a mix of talent, both well known and new. Famous actor-musicians, including David Johansen, Tom Waits, Dr. John, Joe Strummer and Leon Redbone participated for SAG minimums, exercising mutual, ‘Favored Nations’ clauses. But Harris Yulin, French actress, Bulle Ogier and Kevin J. O’Conner were more costly. By luck, I got referred to a new Equipment Truck company out of Florida. They had a brand new truck they wanted to put out on a feature with full grip and electric, lighting and dolly. They offered me an inexpensive flat price and agreed to deliver it to our production office. It was too good to be true, but I agreed and prayed what arrived would live up to half of what they promised. A week later it pulled up, right on time, in front of our office on Bleecker Street. It was a gleaming, silver, feature film, Hollywood studio production truck. The drivers proudly opened the back door, revealing a pristine assembly of virgin equipment. It was a film crew’s dream assortment of lights, rigging and supplies. The 26 foot long truck stood tall, strong and proud; an unbelievable deal that would easily get us through the entire shoot. I thanked God, tipped the drivers generously and tap danced back into ‘low-road productions’.
Shortly thereafter, our esteemed director, Robert Frank, walked up to his building and saw our new truck. He stormed into the office and bellowed at me, “What the fuck is that outside?!!!”
Somewhat used to his bombastic style by now, I replied proudly, ‘Robert, that’s our equipment supply truck for the film. It’s brand new, it’s got everything! And, we got a super deal on it!”
‘It even has – “ Robert interrupted, “I don’t give a shit if it has the fuckin’ Pope in it! It’s got Hollywood stench all over it! I don’t want to see that God damned truck anywhere near my film!” That said, he stormed upstairs, muttering further obscenities…
Everyone turned to look at me. I managed a grim smile and swallowed. “Well, we’ll have to deal with that” I offered in an inane attempt to put Robert’s hysterical tirade on par with our other day’s priorities.
Inside, my wheels were flying high speed in search of solutions. What the hell was I going to do? I had signed off already on the six week contract. We couldn’t pull out. I’d never be able to match our deal elsewhere. Breaking out the equipment onto smaller trucks was too costly and cumbersome. Keeping the truck out of sight and ferrying supplies back and forth to the set… too time consuming and impossible with half our locations. Then Brad came in with art supplies and his Assistant, Marybeth Lee. (also an actress with our Westside Players and a friend) As I recounted the blow-up story, my eyes came to rest on Robert’s well known book of photographs, “The Americans”. In a passion fueled by desperate hope, I grabbed the book and said, “Guys, please go buy all the paint and supplies you’ll need, take this book and paint Robert’s photos all over the truck so he doesn’t see any shiny silver areas. Maybe if it’s toned down and artsy lookin’ he’ll tolerate it.” They agreed to give it a go.
They got all the paint needed, drove the truck underneath the Brooklyn Bridge and with assistants, designed and painted each side and front and back panels of the truck with photos from ‘The Americans’. By the time the sun was rising, magic hour revealed a truck work of art on a whole other order. ‘A black boy alone in an old southern school bus waived at us’ from one whole side panel. The truck’s back, roll up door, showed Robert’s famous ‘long perspective shot from the Arch up Fifth Avenue’. The truck had been transformed into a holy black and white photo documentary, – a circus carnival of humanity’s naked truth. I was both elated and surprised at the elevated degree of craftsmanship they had achieved. The truck was now a giant art gallery in motion with no shiny anywhere.
We had a Village location that morning, on little Prince Street. We pulled the truck in extra early so there’d be plenty of room around us as we off-loaded. We set up inside and were ready for our directors to arrive. I kept busy with production details, watching, waiting… Finally, I spotted Robert and Rudy, walking up Prince Street. I said, “Good Morning, Guys, we’re all set upstairs.” They nodded hello, and still walking towards the building doorway, I saw Robert notice the truck and stop. His eyes moistened up. He swallowed, nodding with a slight grimace smile as he passed by me, into the doorway, and up the stairs to the set. He never said another word to me about our truck.
I had gone back to University after establishing , ZUCCHINI, my Natural Foods Restaurant with the Townleys, who had become my Theosophical family. (It was on First Avenue and 72nd Street) Our restaurant had come into full bloom after three expansions over five years. I was glad to have a successful restaurant, but with investors coming at me non-stop to open a place on the upper West Side, I had an important life choice to make. Was I destined to follow in my father’s footsteps in the bar and restaurant business? A new place would mean even more commitment, working 80 hours per week, without any ‘responsibility free’ vacations (whenever away, my phone constantly rang with top priority concerns). I had thought I’d be able to ‘set up’ the business well enough so I could then step back and let it support my family and our artistic passions. I finally had to admit that was an idealistic illusion.
My friend, Katya, took me to a weekend retreat called ‘Chareva’, where this educator, Gerald Hillman, was exploring delving into the human dynamic with a primal release technique. Our group processed an intense amount of history and philosophy he presented, from humanity’s inception on this planet to the present day. He proceeded to take us down to the fullest reveals of each one’s ‘personal story’. Gerry then gifted our individual stories back to us with pristine clarity, mixed with compassion and support to help each of us face our deeper ‘truths’. This process, combined with breath work and group hypnotic techniques, brought about a psychodynamic release. During one group lecture, I felt my body go into a supra relaxed state. I was later told I had what appeared like a neuroleptic fit. Inwardly I was super conscious and rapidly focusing through thought-image patterns of my inner “reality”. I intuitively released old, stored energy pockets held frozen by fear to protect myself. Now perceived clearly, they were no longer needed. Old hurts, emotional pains, each released upon conscious contact. It was like a magic wand had let the antiquated armor dissolve. Instead of the challenging memories repeating charged emotions as I perceived them, they evaporated. They left behind a pleasurable atmosphere that quickly faded away. I came to, with eyes peering down at me. Concerned leaders and participants asked if I was ok, and how did I feel? Gerry asked me if I’d ever done any primal work before, which I hadn’t. I felt full of renewed, elevated energy. My vision felt more clear, colors more vibrant. I proceeded to share what I could of my experience. Over the weekend many of us found ways to consciously set up our unique release pattern to have primal experiences. Dreams were shared when the group would reconvene each morning, allowing deeper and deeper revelations to come through the group mind. Through my primal experience I realized my creative process was of paramount importance to my life’s purpose.
During this period, I had co-founded a theatre company, WESTSIDE PLAYERS, with another friend, Nathan Young. He loves telling people about my leading a Jersey Grotowski chair exercise with our actors, whereby the actor approaches the chair and has the objective of moving the chair without touching it. My exercise demonstration built intense concentration and belief as I circled the chair. Suddenly, I burst forth with a Wildman, banshee scream at ‘the chair’, while simultaneously doing a complete body flip in the air over it. Everyone jumped out of their skin. To this day, some believe I got that chair to move.
With our WESTSIDE PLAYERS Company, Nathan and I wrote, directed and produced a three act musical with a fourteen person cast in SOHO called SPIRITED PASSIONS. (My future wife-to-be, Michele, attended our opening night, although we didn’t meet there. That would come six years later in Venice, California) I wanted to film SPIRITED PASSIONS and thought it would ground my creative vision to go to NYU Film School. Getting through the application process was quite an ordeal. I submitted my screenplay adaptation of a 19th Century Novel by Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. That early draft was about 250 pages. I think they forgave my lack of editing due to my achieving the highest score on their entrance exam, my transfer credits from Rhodes and being a native son of Greenwich Village. Nevertheless, NYU Film School proved a rich learning experience. I wrote and directed numerous shorts and started getting paying gigs on the production end of music videos and commercials.
I went on to Produce a feature documentary in Moscow, THE RESTLESS GARDEN [NESKOUCHNY SAD] with Russian American director, Victor Ginzburg (who I’d made a number of Music Videos with. (Award Winning: Klymaxx – “Private Party”) We got a Russian co-production deal with Victor’s old friend, Stas Namin’s company, planned out our shoot and took off for Moscow. Kremlin had decided to let theatre have “free speech and music”. They were in the midst of a cultural art and free expression revolution in Moscow, much the same as the U.S. had in the 60’s. All sorts of wild shows were being created in all genres. We set out to capture the Fellini-esque phantasmagoria in all its ‘underground’ splendor. We were assigned State monitors to ‘help us’ with anything our production might need. They were clearly KGB monitors. Because we had a Russian American director they were lax and we poked fun about us being, ‘their assignment”. People in the film business there scoffed at us when we told them we had a 30 day shoot scheduled. “You’ll be lucky to get a week’s shoot off” they said. I soon saw why. Stas had his assistants give us the key to our new, ‘Kino Eye Production Offices’. It was part of our co-production deal, along with a basically limitless ruble account. We hiked up the stadium stairs to the upper back offices, through an unused hallway, finding our spider-web covered door number. They all stopped dead at the door. There was a sheet of paper pasted across the door-jam. It was some sort of State ordered dictate prohibiting entry. A major debate ensued among our Russian crew on protocols and what we would have to do to get permission to enter. Victor proceeded to walk up, rip off the paper and open the door. The talk stopped. We all entered. Our Russian friends were in a new ‘territory’ now, having gone ‘through the looking glass”. Everyone started laughing. I went to the front desk, picked up the push-button phone receiver to call the main office. It was, ‘Toys R Us’ time, – dead silence. Oh, we were told, someone would have to come from the Office of the ‘Main Phone System Checker’ Polit- Bureau and reconnect all the phone line connections. That Bureau could send someone out to us in a month or so. My first lesson in ‘Blat’ ensued. Stas’ Office called a well situated ‘friend’, who agreed to accept a fee to have someone place our name at the front of the list, so we’d have the phone repair people at our office in the morning. Sure enough, we had our office phones working the next day.
The escapades were endless. Breakfast usually consisted of espresso coffee, fresh baked bread with one inch thick spreads of Russian Beluga Caviar. They came in 2 lbs. tins that cost us next to nothing in rubles. This powered up our endless pursuits, day and night, for interview subjects and locations.
Everything was owned by the Russian State, the camera equipment, lighting, grip gear, generators and film stock, labs, processing and screening rooms. Fortunately, Victor had a friend who had a show running on T.V. He gave us visitor passes to enter the State Cinema Building under his show’s name. (Imagine all four major US Networks and HBO in one Pentagon style structure) Security Guards interviewed all Studio traffic. Victor would explain our ‘visit’ to view our friend’s show. With exposed film cans stuffed in coats and pants, we would smuggle in our footage from each day’s shoot. He’d mix our footage in with his nightly processing order for a ‘blat’ fee and we’d pick up the processed footage at sunrise and smuggle it back out of the building.
Finally, our last week came. Our 30th day of shooting and we had run out of raw stock. We were shooting 16MM Kodak, High Speed. Color Stock. Our last, most important interview, the one we had held up wrapping out the whole production for, was up. I needed five 400’ rolls of raw stock. No place to buy it. Once again, it was ‘blat’ time. But it turns out, the main stranglehold on the film business by the government was watching over film stock allotments. We had brought in our own stock so it wasn’t an issue, until now. Finding a film company willing to part with some of their own stock – that was asking a lot. Days of calls ensued, hunting for a contact. Finally, one of our crew found a connection through a film school department. I had to call a guy at an exact time and ask for ‘Sergei’. I did. He offered a ‘one time deal’, $1,000. U.S.. Meet him in Gorky Park. 9 p.m. , next to the playground benches. If I was late, he’d leave and the deal would be off – ‘too risky’.
Just like a drug deal, a production associate drove me to Gorky Park and hung in the car. I walked over and sat at the poorly lit bench. No one came. Finally, a nervous, academic looking guy showed up and shoved a paper bag at me. ‘Give me the pay’. he said, trying to sound assertive. “Ok, ok” I offered, – “let me just look first.” I peered into the bag under the lamp light, checked the cans to make sure the tape was still virgin wrapped and the stock numbers were correct. He started to pull the bag back, “Pay now, – too late”. I noticed another guy step out of the shadows in the distance. “Alright, here” I said, handing him an envelope with the cash. He grabbed it, barely looking. ‘Have good shoot” he smiled now, giving me a big thumbs up. He was actually very excited to be part of making a ‘cool’ underground American Russian film. I was thrilled to have the raw stock. Nonchalantly as possible, I rushed back into the car and we took off. Yes, our shoot was completed! ,
After a long night of Russian food, drink, endless speeches and awards, we packed and took our early morning bus to the Moscow airport. We had special ‘stamped’ letters and VIP phone numbers to guarantee our safe passage through Russian Customs. Custom Guards gave our ‘packed to the rims’ carts and us a good look over. After a few preliminary questions, they directed us to the interview stations. They knew we had shot a film in Moscow. What our actual underground content was they had no idea. If they were to find out, for sure they’d confiscate our footage and perhaps us as well. I focused on my breath and meditation, working to relax my heartbeat, summoning every higher being I’d ever heard of to assist us. They took Victor into a separate office. He motioned to me not to worry. Stas would get this worked out. Seems like hours went by. I was interviewed, -nothing too prying. My English language limitation made it hard for them to question me too deeply. ( I even saw one of our government monitors walk by into another office.) Suddenly, Victor appeared with our carts, bags and film cans complete with Customs Officials to escort us right through Customs and directly onto the plane. With smiles and handshakes all around, we boarded the plane, watching our cargo carefully to make sure it was properly loaded. I didn’t breathe till we were out of range of Moscow, on our way back to Los Angeles.
Heart beat reality took my focus flying home. It turns out Stas had been in a very famous Russian rock group called, ‘The Flowers’. They were the Russian’s version of ‘The Beatles’. So Stas was like a part God to these people. That’s why they gave him the stadium in Gorky Park for whatever he wanted. That explains how we got ushered right through Customs. It was all ‘feeling oriented’ respect for his creativity amidst the cold industrial back drop of Lennon’s beleaguered communist agenda.
Our Russian Line Producer, Gregory, was a non-stop energy field; smart, quick and funny, with childlike appeal. He was the perfect fit for our band of creative, counter-culture savants. We whipped through locations like we were on a low budget T.V. shoot. One day we were shooting at an outdoor market location, following an interview. Suddenly Gregory turned and looked at me, perplexed, sweat starting to pool on his face, he grabbed his chest and yelled ‘shit’ as I lowered him gently to the ground. I ordered one of my assistants to get our car to drive us to the hospital. Gregory winced in pain, but still his hand grabbed my arm blocking my own blood flow, shaking his head vehemently. He shouted, “ask for heart pills, -everyone ask, – heart pills!” This was a new one for me. Aspirin for Migraines I’d dealt with. But Heart Pills? Whatever; I stood up and shouted his request out to the crowd, “Anyone have heart pills?” The crowd was already looking concerned. My translator shouted my request in Russian. Now they took a beat, and then all dove into their pockets and purses. (I recall an old Aspirin commercial where everyone at an airport pulled aspirin out of their pockets to give to a fellow traveler.) Same thing here. In less than a minute, multiple hands darted out at me with open palms revealing pills for the taking. I grabbed a bunch and brought them to Gregory. Now cold and clammy, he was sipping water. He snapped up the pills, threw a handful down his throat, chug-a-lugged the rest of the water and washed them down. Now I was freaking out a little. I had no idea what those pills were. I, the Producer, had just handed them to him. If he was actually having a heart attack, I had to get him medical care right away. The more I suggested just going to the hospital to get checked out, make sure he was ok., the more agitated he would become. “No Hospital, Philip!” “Just take me home. I’ll be fine. I need only to rest. I can’t get into the American Hospital. My wife knows how to take care of me.” He pulled my collar towards him, whispering in my ear, nodding his head back and forth ominously: “It’ll kill me, that Russian hospital.”
Against my better judgement we had to go along with him and drop him at his apartment. Stas’s Office worked the ‘blat’ angle to get Gregory seen at the American Hospital. I kept checking in with him and thank God, he did recover. I was left baffled by the plethora of heart pills phenomena. Russians carried around heart pills like Americans carry around Aspirin. Our culture imparts headaches while theirs gives them heartaches.
The two class system left me sad for the people. The nice grocery store markets were all designated for the upper class and foreigners. They would only take US Dollars, like the nicer restaurants and hotels. One needed serious, ‘blat’ to get the right documentation to be taken into the American Hospital. We are blessed on so many levels as Americans. It’s a big mistake to take it for granted. As much as I love the Russian people, I literally kissed the ground when I got back home.
I’m always drawn back to my Greenwich Village roots with music. Before the films I worked on, it was the iconic Tina Turner who created the draw. I had seen one of her early, solo performances, in a small music club on 13th Street. I was backstage and remember being awed by her professionalism amidst her young stage crew. Her pure fire ignited the minute the lights came up. She took the stage like a wild panther. She out danced Mick Jagger as she sent the audience into fits of Rock and Roll mania. Her blues scream was pure release of a lifetime’s pent-up anger.
FMM: Tell us about your great projects you have worked on.
A wonderful Producer/Director team, John Caldwell and Mark Robinson, who I’d worked with a few times before, called me. They wanted to shoot a Tina Turner music video right away, before she went up to Montreal to perform her last Coke a Cola Corporate Concert. (her managers had booked her on this corporate tour to provide income after her breakup with Ike) Her Music Execs needed to release her new Tina Turner album, ”Private Dancer” right after and send her out on her own tour right away. We had Tina for one shoot day in NYC before she would head up to Montreal. I took them location scouting around all my Greenwich Village haunts and less familiar areas like the meat packing district, the far westside docks, old cobblestone streets, mews and little neighborhood parks. I had just rented my sister’s apartment to my old grammar school friend, actress, Glenne Headley and her boyfriend at that time, John Malkovich. He was in town with his Steppenwolf production of TRUE WEST (starring him and Gary Sinise) at the old Cherry Lane Theatre, so it was fresh in my mind. Turns out our director, Mark, felt it would be a perfect backdrop for the street dancing scene he had dreamt up. I called my favorite D.P., Ed Lachman, and he agreed to shoot our Music Video. We cast the dancers, booked the crew and equipment. We were all set.
Tina Turner arrived exhausted from touring, yet excited to get into her own music; finally, her own show! The song was, WHAT’S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT?” She revived herself with Buddhist Meditation and a strict Vegetarian diet. She was always positive, on time and ready to go. We had 20 set-ups scheduled for that day, with multiple crews hop-scotching, setting up and breaking down sets as we moved through each location. Tina didn’t miss a beat. Multiple takes, re-takes, no problem. Wardrobe malfunctions, hair re-do after re-do, non-stop make-up touch ups, nothing phased her. Just get her the right vegetarian food, (not an easy task) allow her meditation time and she was golden.
That scene where she’s walking up the sidewalk alongside a metal fence, Tina did multiple, one-take, master shots of the song, singing it live. She gave a consummate performance every time. (Most artist wouldn’t bother, knowing it could be dubbed-over with the studio mix later anyway.) Tina loved the intimacy of the lens. She felt her honesty as a performer. She listened and watched her performance after each take. She took direction seriously and accommodated the subtle changes beautifully.
The dancers were excited to perform with Tina. The little alley and sidewalk outside the Cherry Lane Theatre was a mix of old cobblestones and crooked cement patchwork. Everyone wore sneakers to practice the dance steps to the music. It was getting towards sunset. We were moving quick to cover our shots for the day. Tina’s high heels were a well established pre-requisite. The dancers were all over their moves to surround and support Tina. Tina took off on the dance routine, her heel got caught and her ankle tweaked. There was no way she could dance around in her high heels on that crooked surface. (If she really hurt herself, her tour would be delayed and her new career derailed.) Mark was quick to redo the choreography to cover for Tina’s now restricted mobility. We shot the sequence beautifully and the small street audience that had formed applauded enthusiastically. Tina signed autographs for everyone. We jumped in our car pulling Tina away from adoring fans and sped over to the pier to catch our last shot at magic-hour. We didn’t have time to pull over the lighting truck and generator. Ed told me not to worry. He framed out a small area for Tina to sing and dance down to the end of the dock, catching the river water and cityscape as backdrop. I tracked alongside, holding up a gold bounce board to direct the lowering rays of the sun onto Tina’s face. Action! One take Tina knocked it out of the park! I had my doubts that Ed had gotten it. Nope, he insisted, he had it.
My doubts were erased when I saw the dailies. Ed had been trained as a camera man under Swedish Cinematographer, Sven Nykvist, [shot Ingmar Bergman’s films] who knew all sorts of tricks to compensate for the low lit Northern sky.
WHAT’S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT launched Tina Turner’s Solo Career. (MTV Music Awards ‘Video of the Year’, #1 Song US Charts, Grammy’s Hall of Fame, etc.) She convinced the hesitant Music Producers on her vision of herself as a true ‘Woman Rock & Roll Star’! She would eventually command Stadium Crowds of 75,000 fans. Her performance prowess won the Grammy Award’s Song of the Year and Tina was inducted into The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Turns out love has everything to do with it. Tina loved her fans and every minute of her Tina Turner reality!
Our world continues to jump through quantum leaps.
Our collective consciousness flows through cyclic cultural awareness; be it fads, styles, new innovations sparking new expressions: Apple computers, cell phones, the internet, FB & social media, cameras and videos in everyone’s hands, simple editing suites on computers and now even in our cell phones. Today we have online studios for every kind of artist. We’re in a new age of total freedom of expression, with easy creative tools to zoom with globally.
Our society, with all its’ challenges, moral compasses all over the place, forces our multi-culture collective to come to terms with our shared values. We’re challenged to figure out how to prioritize our freedom of expression with our social responsibilities. How can we re-create a principled foundation in our collective reality? Who are our decision makers? Politicians we elect? Our religious leaders? Famous sports figures or Actors? Style/Fashion jetsetters? The biggest online ‘influencers’? or, can we learn to think for ourselves, to question, to study ourselves and the issues, to come to our own, individual awareness; and then, with an open mind and heart, make educated, compassionate decisions?
FMM: Tell us about the films you are working on today.
The films I’m focused on creating now, be it an Historical Romance, Adventure or heartfelt Comedy, are stories that go deep into our purpose; stories that inspire questions, seek understanding about how we can grow together in meaningful ways that deepen our human expression.
One film in development is a documentary that explores the Universal group story of truth tellers in song and prose, reaching out to share each one’s unique heritage. It seeks to unveil mutual understanding across diverse traditions. Shared music and deep story reveal the ‘one love’ among all their cultures.
The documentary is based around some 20 years of footage we have from our events we’ve filmed over the years; including “Sounds of the Sacred, and Songs of the Earth” concert series,’ World Festival of Sacred Music, L.A. “Walk Across the World with Women Filmmakers and Storytellers”, as well as Living Wellness’ ‘Great Mother Lens’ programs, including current Zoom Gatherings sharing creative process and important insights on Civil Rights in America.
Another is the story of two beautiful lovers caught in an abyss of mutual distrust. Their challenge in this lifetime interfaces with their similar struggles in previous lifetimes. Through a mysterious time-meld, they process the impact of their multiple lifetimes together and summon the courage to face their current-day challenges. Yes, love conquers all!
FMM: Tell us about LIVING WELLNESS.
Michele and I came together at a special time in our lives. We were both recondite in our commitment to be true to our soul’s passion, to help each other to create lives that live up to our higher purpose.
We decided to create the LIVING WELLNESS Journal & Guidebooks to pull together the community of alternative therapist and resources so everyone could learn about these therapies and have easy access to integrative practitioners. It was our hope that distributing this book into the film and music worlds would help educate our community on improved self-care. It evolved into a series of books serving all of California and beyond, along with a seminar series we created entitled, “The Life & Journey of the Creative Healer’. Many educational talks ensued, often at the Bodhi Tree bookstore in West Hollywood. As the seminars grew, we brought in cultural music, and eventually that led to touring.
FMM: What are you looking forward to for the Living Wellness Arts Healing and Culture?
The Tibetan Monks and Nuns of Zangdokpalri and Producing with UCLA on The World Festival of Sacred Music, L.A. for a few years.
My loving partner, Michele, has a strong, intuitive sensibility. When one of our Living Wellness practitioners, asked that we tour a group of Tibetan Monks and Nuns from India, I admit it gave me pause. My film producing background has ingrained in me the habit of immediately reviewing all the responsibilities any endeavor might entail. Then I evaluate the resources needed to accomplish them. We viewed stunning ceremonial footage that had been shot in Assam, India, of The Tibetan Monks & Nuns of Zangdokpalri performing their 72-hour dancing prayer with mantras and musical accompaniment. Our mission became clear. Michele’s hand found mine and her teared-up eyes glistened. “We will help”, she announced. My heart was opened, and my head was left wondering, how are we going to manifest this one?
Once again Nature answered. His Holiness The Dalai Lama’s plea for World Music to wrap around the world brought us together with UCLA’s Head of World Arts and Culture, Judy Mitoma, who invited us to Produce our Monks & Nuns of Zangdokpalri for the opening of The World Festival of Sacred Music, L.A. . Then Michele and I had to convince the backers that UCLA and our Sothern California Tour would reap a net profit to help support their monastery.
We opened UCLA’s World Festival of Sacred Music, L.A. with the Monks and Nuns of Zangdokpalri at Royce Hall. The L.A. Times gave a rave review, citing, “…The Zangdokpalri Monks and Nuns, led by Kunzang Dechen Lingpa, offered a richly meditative cyclic chanting, establishing a remarkably pensive spiritual atmosphere within the distinctly non-pensive environs of Royce Hall.” Once again, Michele’s intuition proved to be a wonderful creative inspiration.
For over 20 years, ‘Living Wellness Arts, Healing and Culture’ has provided a great exchange of energies. We are inspired by visions of creative service. We seek unique ways to create experiences wherein many possibilities can be explored. By interacting with others in diverse communities, we’re all brought to greater insights about different cultures. We each enrich our own expression through every new discovery.
We’re excited with the prospects of offering new interactive programming for the rest of 2021-22. The COVID-19 Pandemic caused us, like many others, to cancel programming. The silver lining was learning how to create anew and offer online programing through platforms like Zoom. We’ve had the opportunity to make presentations on other’s zoom events as well as present our own Living Wellness Zoom Gatherings.
We started with our “Evoke the Divine” program featuring New York Poet, Anice Jefferies, Michele’s Somatic Release process, Creative Writing and Spoken Word with Musical Accompaniment.
At our following, Living Wellness ‘Great Mother Lens’ Zoom Interactive, we shared a deep poetic expression by L.A Poet, Laura Roberts and an empowering documentary by Lilly Rivlin, “CHANGING THE WORLD with Heather Booth” She is the foremost organizer, training leader, in the Human Rights movement. Heather Booth joined us for an informative and passionate Q & A after the film.
We followed with a powerful documentary, FREEDOM SUMMER by Award Winning Director, Stanley Nelson. We opened with the live music of Samuel Waymon from his N.Y. recording studio, performing his song, “Freedom is My Name”. (Brother of singer-musician, Nina Simone, Sam had his own, unique trajectory through the Civil Rights Movement, marching with King, Carmichael, and other well-known leaders. He too encountered the water hoses, dogs and nightsticks, arrests and hardships.
He and Heather Booth led a robust post film Q & A. Sam shared that he had done the score for the earlier musical. ‘Freedom Summer’ – all based around the White and Black College Students from all over the U.S. (Freedom Riders) who descended on Mississippi in 1964 to register Black Citizens to vote. Along with helping to sign up voter registrants, they established ‘Freedom Schools’ and The Democratic Committee for Back Mississippi Delegates to be voted into representation at the National Convention.
Born of a Mississippi sharecropper’s family, Fannie Lou Hamer moved the whole civil rights movement with her informed heartfelt appeal at that convention, “I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired!”
Upcoming events include another Zoom Gathering, “Evoke the Divine” A Poetry, Music and Creative Writing Somatic Experiential, as well as other film screenings we’re planning: STANDING ON MY SISTER’S SHOULDERS, a great Civil Rights expose on the women’s movement propelling Fannie Lou Hamer to the forefront of the Mississippi Delegation rallying the attendees at The Democratic Delegation’s National Nominating Committee and SUMMER OF SOUL , a great insight into the 1969 summer weekend concert series that rocked Harlem. Often referred to as the Black Woodstock, it eventually turned on some 300,000 attendees to witness Stevie Wonder, Sly & The Family Stone, The Staple Sisters, Gladys Knight & The Pips, Nina Simone and The 5th Dimension. How this footage laid dormant for over 40 years, with performances every bit as riveting as that same summer’s Woodstock, becomes a deeper lens focusing us into questioning our true American Culture.
Raising funding for our films is a top priority in this cycle. I’ve always been sensitive to the film investor’s risk. Now having years of experience as a Real Estate Senior Loan Officer as well as a Film Producer, I’ve created a platform that offsets the Film Investor’s risk by splitting a portion of each investment into Real Estate as well. The program has been well received in its’ initial phase and we’re excited to roll out our upcoming slate of films.
See:
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