SMALL GAUGES FOR SMALL CITIES:
An Interview with Alex Rogalski

By Brett Kashmere


Not one to rest on his prairie roots, the Melville-born, Toronto-based filmmaker, programmer and organizer Alex Rogalski has kept Super 8 lamps lit across the new millennium. Since establishing the One Take Super 8 Event in 2000, Rogalski has helped foster over 200 films by a variety of artists while providing local communities an opportunity to view this work collectively. As Alex points out, “the concept… is centered on the idea that Super 8 (often discarded to antiquity in the digital age) is still the most affordable film gauge for independent filmmakers. In recent years, more attention has been given to this format, as it once sat on the brink of extinction. Now its effects are seen in major Hollywood films, as well as music videos and mainstream commercials.”

(Disclosure: Before exchanging [rubbing] elbows in the Film Department at the University of Regina, Alex and I played basketball against each other through the mid-90s; he was a hardnosed and oversized wing player for the Melville High Cobras, I was an undersized but crafty point guard for the Greenall [Balgonie] Griffins. They played a frustrating 1-3-1 zone; we played aggressive man-ta-man. Both teams could shoot the trey. We split the multiyear showdown).

Athletic competition turned to creative collaboration with the founding of the antechamber art gallery & cinematheque in spring of ‘99. Wrestled into existence by Jason Cawood, Robert Pytlyk, Alex and myself, the antechamber was a non-profit organization dedicated to the support of emerging independent artists and filmmakers. Self-financed, custom-built, and experimentally impassioned, the antechamber lasted two-odd years, over which time we engendered over a dozen gallery exhibitions, myriad screenings, and a handful of concerts. The antechamber was also inaugural site to Alex’s now internationally famous One Take Events, which have played to packed audiences in Regina, Montreal, Ft. Lauderdale, Winnipeg, Syracuse, and Ottawa. Films made specifically for the event have traveled to Japan, England, Toronto, Ireland, Portland (Maine) and many points between.

Thus, three-point shots were displaced by three-minute films, but with no second-chance opportunities. The One Take Event is distinct in that none of the films are viewed prior to their premiere. Each filmmaker is limited to one Super 8 cartridge, and must shoot her entire film without the opportunity to rewind for a “second take.”

Alex and I first discussed this interview in person while he was visiting Syracuse in March 2007. The interview took place via email over the following month. I edited the final text in Portland, Oregon.


Can you talk about the origins of the One Take Super 8 Event?

The original event was a response to multiple circumstances at that point in Regina. I had finished my final project in film school on Super 8, and was realizing its potential as a unique film form. John Porter’s visit to Regina in the fall of 1999 had an influence, as it was proof that one could have an artistic career based in that medium, and produce a compelling body of work. The “Revenge Of Super 8” exhibition, held at the Dunlop Art Gallery in 2000, also spurred a response from me, as film was treated there in a somewhat nostalgic museum manner, by showing the work on VHS, rather than allowing people to connect to the original source.

These events encouraged me to create a screening for the antechamber where people would produce a film outside the conditions of course work, artist grants and commercial ventures, to make something for the pleasure of creative process, with a guarantee their work would screen publicly, which was important for myself. I knew my own work wouldn’t really gather an audience, but if I could place it in a showing of 20 or more people, we’d all benefit from a larger audience.

The reason for a “shoot-and-show” was based on practicality. First, I knew filmmakers are fickle, and if many saw their films beforehand, they’d be disappointed and unwilling to screen it publicly. Also, editing Super 8 can be problematic, as splices are not projector-friendly, and most people don’t have access to editing equipment. The unexpected spin off was the excitement that builds from nobody seeing her work until it’s shown publicly. I think the event’s great success is that it builds a positive anxiety in the filmmakers. It’s a delayed gratification that’s missing from video.


After graduating from the University of Regina, you lived a fairly nomadic life, with stops in Indonesia, the Philippines, and Japan, before settling in Toronto. After years away, when did you decide to recast the One Take as an annual event?

It wasn’t until 2005 that I thought the One Take had purpose and value on a repeated basis. The “One Take” title originally inferred a one-off event. It wasn’t until returning from traveling in 2001, when people in Regina began asking if I was going to have the event again, that I realized its impact on the local community. Subsequent events continued to build a following, and since returning to Canada from Japan in 2004, it’s been great to hold the event in other centres, to see the regional distinctions. Local cinema is not often embraced, in a manner that the One Take has so successfully cultivated.

Another success is that we’re still attracting first time filmmakers, and there’s still a marvel in the audience that we actually show the films on projectors, that they’re not transferred. The events are in many ways more akin to concerts than screenings. It’s a bit like having a unique set list of films, where the audience is allowed to interact as they would with a band. We often have people cheering halfway through a film, which is unusual for most screenings, and the energy that’s created from the audience’s anticipation adds to the excitement.


Did you envision this kind of success and longevity?

I never envisioned we’d be preparing our seventh event this fall, and that the One Take would have spread across Canada and into the U.S. There've been so many changes in how audiences consume media since 2000 (from the introduction of DVDs to the YouTube era), that it shows the staying power of Super 8, to still be relevant to filmmakers and audiences.


Among all the One Take films that have been produced at this point, which stand out for you?

It’s getting more and more difficult to remember each of the films. The work that stands out to me has been quite diverse. Percy Fuentes and Shawn Fulton’s work became a standard in the Event, and something to anticipate. It inspired me in what I could imagine was possible with Super 8, and really connected with audiences. Ken Wilson’s latest film “East of Eden” has stuck with me as a perfect use of Super 8, and resonates as a great portrait and memory of a city. I’ve shown it in many places, and it speaks to audiences in a familiar way. In three minutes it says more about suburban development than feature docs have accomplished. Overall, there hasn’t been a film I haven’t felt confident including. Each film demonstrates a personal touch, regardless of whether it falls short of expectations. Seeing returning filmmakers develop each year gives reason for the One Take to continue, to help artists develop their craft.


Have you noticed any recurrent themes emerge over the years?

In the first years I wasn’t looking for any, and the One Take never stipulates a theme like many other shoot-and-shows. The films were as diverse as the makers, spanning narrative to experimental, documentary to animation. It was amazing that so many approaches could emerge from the same small cartridges and community. The first themes I noticed came after we staged One Takes in Montreal, Ft. Lauderdale, and Winnipeg. It was then that I could sense trends, or how unique the Regina films were.

This past year showed a real portrait of the city and prairie life. Although each takes a different approach, the collection of 24 films speaks about Saskatchewan in a personal tone. It’s melancholic, but with a deep sense of devotion. I think it resonates with the province’s personality. It’s not an easy place to reside, but those who do are passionate about it, and try so hard to preserve/persevere in those aspects of the province/city that aren’t immediately beautiful to those who just pass by.


When Stan Brakhage was in Montreal years ago for a talk entitled “In Defense of Amateur,” he made the statement that “All movies are home movies.” Meaning, everything we make has elements of our home life in it. It’s an expanded notion of the “home movie” that isn’t specific to amateur or professional production modes, and which doesn’t deny good form or technique. I’m wondering what you think of the expression in reference to small gauge filmmaking, which features certain “home movie” codes but which can also be formally rigorous.

It’s an interesting quote, one that’s easily attributed to Super 8 because of its consumer history. The “home” aspect comes from the personal attachment to the camera. The Super 8 filmmaker Helga Fanderl speaks about how she always handholds her camera (something not always easy or necessary with 16 and 35mm), so there’s an automatic intimacy with the tools. Just the look of Super 8 cameras invites holding. She says her films require the viewer to see the world through her eyes. This evokes a home sense, for the domesticity that is our everyday life is more likely to be captured through Super 8 than through other formats. Even the One Take films that foreground formal approaches still have that intimacy of the camera, that act of examining one’s surroundings. The economy of the medium also lends itself to the “home movie” aesthetic, for what’s captured isn’t usually as contrived as with more professional formats.


How do you feel about claims that the “digital revolution” has democratised media production?

I’m sure literacy once held the same esteem, in the sense that all would have a voice if provided tools to write. The sentiment is virtuous but the reality is, multiple voices don’t always translate to multiple listeners. Giving someone a webcam, and a link to post on YouTube doesn’t ensure anyone will watch, leaving a critical gap in communication. I think we’ll continually try to evolve our media in order to provide access and means for everyone to have an amplified or recorded voice, but there needs to be an emphasis on creating a listening community for diverse voices.

The One Take has made that a strong mandate. Having local filmmakers screen to local audiences is so important in building a discussion about how we view our surroundings. So much of the media we consume originates in places we have no connection to. Not to be idyllic, but projecting Super 8 in a collective space is the most democratic process of film distribution: everyone who shoots is screened as part of a whole. We don’t award prizes or formally judge the work, so it’s up to the audience to listen and interpret, to recognize the creator as a neighbour/colleague, and not a stranger who they’re disconnected from.


Does working in Super 8 as opposed to video change how you think about distribution and exhibition? Has the medium provided new or surprising routes of circulation for you?

As firm as I am about shooting and screening on Super 8, it does have its limitations for wider distribution. Rob Pytlyk’s authoring of the One Take DVDs allowed us to expand our range, and provide the filmmakers with a more accessible medium. Also, through this project I’ve become more in touch with all the festivals and events dedicated to Super 8 in some facet. But again, without Internet technology it would’ve been difficult to access that network, which exists to share work and ideas about small gauge cinema. Working in Super 8 has provided me with necessary limitations. As simple a format as it is, shooting Super 8 well requires far more craft than video. There isn’t as simple an on/off image switch. I think video made things too easy, requiring less rigour.

Video has definitely assisted in the plethora of “film” festivals that have emerged in the past decade. It’s never been cheaper to submit your work. It has limited me in some ways, as I only have my Super 8 originals, so exhibiting at festivals requires some planning. Not to mention, so few festivals even support Super 8 as a format; those that do might have no idea how to project it properly. I do send my originals with the hope they’ll be returned in the same state, something I don’t care about with DVDs. The benefit of DVD is, it has enabled exchanges with European shoot-and-show festivals, so we can see what kind of work others are doing. It’s much better than VHS, as 30 short films on a DVD are more viewer-friendly than a chronologically committed tape.


I also want to talk about your own Super 8 work. I’ve always considered you an "idea" filmmaker. Is that a description you’re comfortable with? Your Super 8 films are much different than Indopunk (2006), which is a medium-length ethnographic documentary. I find the concentration, simplicity and fully developed nature of your small gauge films very satisfying.

I don’t think very much about how I’m perceived as a filmmaker. I suppose I don’t lean very far into a narrative stream. The limitation of creating a 200 second film forces me to focus clearly on what I want to accomplish. I think Brakhage’s 8mm “Songs” are a wise metaphor for the medium. I’d like to create an album of sorts where each of my reels speaks in its own voice, but can be collectively experienced like an album. I’m far from creating a “concept” or “idea” album yet, but I do find myself working on “singles.”

The Super 8 films that I find inspiring often dedicate themselves to a single subject and focus intently, revealing layers in the allotted 3 minutes. I’m always reflecting on my daily life, wondering what aspects would be best served. Often it starts with a “hook,” or single subject, which permits a starting point, and from there I fill in details.

For example, I was recently influenced by Paris Hilton, amazed at how she was so pervasive in daily news, yet there was nothing new about her. She was just a single note. So I began thinking of how I could develop her into a 3-minute film, by using a single still, but make it a dynamic piece.

My most recent film focuses on the yellow pages directory. Again, it came from wanting to do something with this archaic, but still useful object, and wondering how it could be translated into a 3-minute film. It’s a challenge to take something that’s very static and surface, and make it dynamic and moving.


In many of your films, such as "space needles and skylights," "near a landmark and other passed identities," and "land of the living skies," there’s a movement out of the private/domestic sphere, although the intimacy remains. Could you talk about this, and the role travel plays in your filmmaking practice?

Those films all emerged at a time when I was without a home. Living in borrowed beds makes one connect much more with the public, and the things we all share but don’t really notice. I think my work is settling more now. I’m shooting much more on my living room floor, rather than taking the camera outside. Since I’m traveling less I have to look more intently at my surroundings to find things new. It’s so much easier when you’re in foreign places, which explains why home movies are often of parades and vacations, and so few are about vacuuming the carpet, or changing light bulbs. The intimacy might come from the fact that I rarely film things on first impulse; I often spend weeks or months watching the same things, trying to imagine the best way to view them.

"Space needles and skylights," was shot in Seattle. Every day for almost a week we parked beside this spinning neon elephant - it was so engrossing. I knew people must’ve been driving by it for years. It was an aspect of their daily life, and if it were removed part of themselves would be missing. But it took me until my final night before leaving to film it. I often wait until I’m leaving things behind to try and take them with me, and capture them in a way that recreates a sense of familiarity.
“Land of the living skies” came out of a drawing I have on my wall for the dust cover of W.O. Mitchell’s “Jake and the Kid.” I’ve been looking at that drawing for over two years, thinking about my life on the prairies and how different the drawing was from my view of the city, where one travels more vertically than horizontally, and cranes are constantly constructing. What came from it was a response to that tension between where we start and hope to return.

I’m sure more can be read into these films, but they’re really just simple attempts to capture impressions that are easily taken for granted.


One aspect I’ve always admired about the One Take Event is that it awakens people’s filmmaking capacities. Do you see yourself as a producer in any sense?

Maybe not a producer, but perhaps a motivator. Making films can easily be procrastinated, not to mention attempting to exhibit the work after it’s created. I wanted to provide incentive to emerging artists. So many established artists have it built into their career to be continually commissioned or invited to lecture; they consistently create because they have a receptacle for their work.

But for emerging filmmakers, no one knocks on your door. I thought if I place an invitation, it gives filmmakers an opportunity to create something new, and be guaranteed that it’ll see an audience. I suppose it’s producing of a sort, but I have no influence over what or how the films are created, so it’s not producing in a traditional sense. Really, if the filmmaker pays her fee for the cartridge and processing, my only responsibility is to make sure the film screens publicly. Although I’m noticing recently that by organizing these events, I’m creating more competition for myself. If anything, it’s forcing me to create better work, so there’s a personal benefit.


John Porter claims that Super 8 is the film medium of the future. Given all you've invested in the format, do you have any thoughts about where Super 8 is going, or what it may yet become?

Porter has far more insight into this than I do. I’ve enjoyed getting to know him better in Toronto, considering he was an early influence. I’m constantly worried about an impending Kodak press release announcing the end of Super 8. I think that’s why I’ve continued to use it. Seeing filmmakers like Porter and Helga Fanderl create 200 or more single reel films, I hope I can get to that point before the stock disappears. There’s no doubt the medium will continue to change. There hasn’t been a new projector in nearly 30 years, and there are only a few reversal stocks left.

The end of Super 8’s production might be a sign to me. Maybe then I’ll just collect old Super 8 films and curate programs. All mediums are temporary, so it’s insane to hope it’ll survive forever. It could go completely underground though. Porter predicts black and white Super 8 could last long past its industrial production. It’s interesting to imagine how that would look, if people were producing and processing their own stock. It would imbue the “lab look” and manufactured stock with its own personality, much how the finalized body of Kodachrome films represent an aesthetic era of cinema.BK: Finally, what are your future plans for the One Take Event?

We’re gearing up for another Regina One Take in November 2007, our seventh Saskatchewan edition. As well, we’ll be holding another in Winnipeg as part of next year’s WNDX Festival. I’m not sure where the end is at this point. In many ways, that’s in Kodak’s hands. It would be great if there was a One Take network, where the films produced at each event would tour to other participating cities in a type of small gauge film swap. This event is still very grassroots, so big plans require small steps. It’s not a full time endeavour, but something I feel dedicated to continue as long as I’m able. I still get a rush from picking up 25 or more reels from the lab at once, something I wouldn’t get to do if I was only processing my own.

ONE TAKE SUPER 8 EVENT
DATES AND LOCATIONS

1- Regina, SK / antechamber art gallery & cinematheque / June 15, 2000
2- Regina, SK / Mackenzie Art Gallery / May 31, 2001
3- Regina, SK / Mackenzie Art Gallery / June 6, 2002
4- Regina, SK / Mackenzie Art Gallery / September 11, 2003
5- Regina, SK / Mackenzie Art Gallery / June 23, 2005
6- Montreal, QC / Main Hall / October 5, 2005
7- Fort Lauderdale, FL / Cinema Paridiso / March 24, 2006
8- Winnipeg, MB / Graffiti Gallery / October 8, 2006
9- Regina, SK / Mackenzie Art Gallery / November 2, 2006
10- Syracuse, NY / Funk’n Waffles / March 24, 2007
11- Ottawa, ON / Mercury Lounge / April 14, 2007
12- Winnipeg, MB / Location TBA / October 7, 2007 (tentative)
13- Regina, SK / Mackenzie Art Gallery / November 2007

ALEX ROGALSKI
SELECTED FILMOGRAPHY

2007 30 footcandles (Super 8, 1 minute, colour, sound)
2006 land of living skies (Super 8, 3 minutes, b&w, sound)
2006 j’adore paris en automne (Super 8, 3 minutes, b&w, sound)
2005 meditor (Super 8, 3 minutes, colour, sound)
2005 near a landmark and other passed identities (Super8, 3 minutes, b&w, sound)
2004 koshien (Super 8, 3 minutes, b&w, silent)
2004 Hatabu Eki (Super 8, 3 minutes, colour, silent)
2003 46th Verse (Super 8, 3 minutes, colour, sound)
2002 Wala/Maroon (Super 8 / DV, 5 minutes, b&w, sound)
2002 b-flat clarinet (Super 8, 3 minutes, b&w, sound)
2002 Gambir Departure (Super 8, 3 minutes, b&w, silent)
2000 1/4” = 7 miles (Super 8, 3 minutes, colour, sound)
2000 the lack of things to come (Super 8, 10 minutes, colour, sound)
1999 space needles and skylights (Super 8, 3 minutes, colour, sound)