Raphie Frank :: business artivist

Anthony Bregman: The Business of Passion & The Art of Compromise

You gave a talk a while back entitled The Business of Passion & The Art of Compromise. Now a lot of people have a pretty solid sense when it comes to the idea of compromise as art, but could you flesh out a bit this idea of “the business of passion”?
Well, what we’re doing is… see, it would be a lot easier for any of us to make our living any other way than making movies. But the reason why we’re making movies is because we’re passionate about these stories and we want to see them told. But, ultimately, what we as producers need to do, and its solely with the Producer, because the financers don’t need to get involved with the film, and the filmmakers, the writers and directors, they’re not thinking necessarily – and they probably shouldn’t be – about the economic aspects of the movie.

So, what our job as a Producer is, is to take something that we’re passionate about, a piece of art, a story, and find a financial reason for somebody to put millions of dollars into these stories to see them told. And that applies whether it’s a question of finding the right cast that makes a certain budget work or modulating the story so that it will appeal to a certain segment of the population or bringing budgets down so that we can ignore cast and all that. And these are all business decisions that have to be made in order to make it possible for these stories to be told.

from a Gothamist Interview. Full Interview available on Gothamist or Snipes, Logomancy & So So Psychosis

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June 13, 2006 Posted by | Business, Economics, Film, Philosophy | Leave a comment

Dancing With a Ten Year Old Teacher

She told me once beneath the covers as we pretended we were in a cave high up in the mountains about the promise she made herself on her 10th birthday. She remembers it well. There in the vast expanse of that Chelsea loft, just after her friend’s mother berated her for dancing on the Art — oversized minimalistic bubble-ized clear plastic Art that would go to the museum the week following. It was there she said to herself “Don’t ever forget how much you know right now that people don’t know you know. Don’t ever underestimate a kid.” I imagine her smacking her pink tutu with a pout and giving a little “harrumph.”

Another time that same year, summer of 1982, on the roof with her father as the amber sun went down behind the blackened outlines of Empire State Building, she said “Remember this moment and don’t ever forget it. Don’t ever tell your kid she can’t be a dancer.”

She has never forgotten. Her mother thinks it’s because she can’t get past those silly childhood disappointments. I know she remembers them because she never wants to get past them. Because she told herself not to forget. She knew already that the only way to make sense of the world is to know that we must forget how much we actually knew once upon a time. That is what makes her her. I didn’t know her then, but I know that this is what has always made her her. I knew it the moment I met her and the moment I lost her. And I know she’s the same her now as she was then; just a little bit older, a little bit wiser, and a little bit dumber.

May she never grow up in a way that she forgets to see with the eyes of that ten year old. And may she still become the dancer she always imagined. Even if she has to dance in a way she has yet to imagine.

photo “Dress Up!” by Sean Sheridan

June 13, 2006 Posted by | Storytelling | Leave a comment

   

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