The Other Side of the Pond

You are invited to the London Premiere of DAUGHTERS OF WISDOM. Sadly, we won't be there in person to present the film (blame the airlines for their outrageous fares!) But if you're from that particular side of the pond, please do c'mon out and support the film (or send someone you know who is!) Here's the deets:

Thu 8 July @ 8:50 pm
Riverside Studios
Crisp Rd, Hammersmith
London W6 9RL
Box office: 020 8237 1111
online booking: Riverside Studios
tickets: £7.50 full /£6.50 concessions

Proceeds of the festival will go to humanitarian aid for the victims of the Jiegu earthquake in Kham, Tibet, so please come out and support a great cause.

Tibet Film Festival is the only international film festival committed to showing the newest and highest quality Tibet related material. The festival aims to stimulate broad discussions on human rights, cultural identity and geo-politics through a diverse programme with a particular emphasis on Tibetan, Indian and women filmmakers, as well as emerging directors. More at: Tibet Film Festival.

Now on Netflix!

Great news! You can now queue up DAUGHTERS OF WISDOM on Netflix, and please do! Click HERE to go there!

And please join us on Facebook!

You CAN Go Home Again

Over the years, I'd received numerous invitations to Binghamton University (nee SUNY) alumni events that had yet to draw me out. But a few months back, I was intrigued to discover that Sonic Youth's Lee Ranaldo was a fellow Bingaling, and that there was to be a gallery reception in his honor in Williamsburg. This caught my attention, and off I went to reconnect with some old friends from school who I'd only seen of late on Facebook. One of these was Andy Stevens, who it turns out is now part of a cooperative art space in Binghamton called Spool Mfg. The wine was flowing, the stroll down memory lane was in full force, and the natural progression to "we should show your film in Binghamton" emerged. And thus, just last weekend, I found myself on the road (Rte. 17W to be exact), courtesy of the good people of Spool and the Binghamton Alumni Association, to show the film in my old stomping ground in the Southern Tier.

And stomp I did. First around the campus where I got pretty lost in the car trying to get around all the new construction - Binghamton's a poppin'! Good news was that some touchstones were still intact: the newt ramps in the nature preserve were still going (the road to hell is paved with newt carcasses that can't migrate properly when roads are built), the Suck-A-Banana (um, er, I mean Susquehanna) Room was still serving up coffee in the OLD union, and the gnarly tree that I wrote a poem about when that boy stomped on my heart still twists its sinewy self outside Smith Hall. And there was my Shakespeare professor, Al Vos, still outstanding in his field, this time literally on the Hinman Quad (tho' I'm still miffed there was no underwear tye-dyeing as promised). Here I was in the place that first fed my little hungry mind, and set the course of this thing called my life. What a befitting day to lead into an evening presentation of a film about the radical notion of educating women.

Spool Mfg is a seemingly endless expanse of space (and I didn't even see all of it), filled with great art and huge potential, and showing my film there was a particular treat. I've dreamed of being part of such an endeavor all my life - the one where my friends and I take over an abandoned factory and I run the cinema, my painter friend runs the gallery, my writer friend runs the bar/open mic poetry venue, and so on. Perhaps this is why, for the first time in a long time, I found myself wanting to sit in with the audience and watch the film. This is usually a process I skip - there are just so many times you can be dazzled by your own work (wink). Seriously, there's just a point where you can't watch a piece anymore because every time you do, you want to get back in there and keep working on it. But something about the whole day landed me in my chair as a spectator. And, as usually happens when I subject myself to that experience, I saw the film with new eyes. But this time not ones of judgment but of clarity. I was blown open and filled up again by the kindness of Lama Norlha Rinpoche and the choice he offered to the women of Nangchen. The discussion/reception after the film offered the chance to commune with very smart locals, including fellow alum Andy Horowitz about his latest dance project Galumpha. Here's how that went: "Oh, you're a dancer, I guess you've heard of the company that's based up here, Second Hand Dance?" "I founded Second Hand Dance." "Andy, is that you?!" I guess people can look different after 20-something years.

The next morning, it was time for a drive around downtown Binghamton, which in fact doesn't look different after 20-something years. For every missing establishment (RIP Drummer's) there was another still proudly (and surprisingly) standing. Belmar Lounge, I'm talking to you. And then it was up to the "scenic" Park Diner for breakfast.

Maybe it was the pollen the size of golf balls floating around in the upstate air. Maybe it was my companion Andrew's quest for the perfect spaghetti sauce north of the 212. Maybe it was the ghost of native son Rod Serling himself. Likely it was a combination of all these forces swirling around in the ether that landed smack dab on the RECORD button of my cell phone camera and conspired to bring about the little video morsel below.


When I uploaded it to YouTube this morning, I was horrified to discover that it's been two years since my previous contributions to the "What in the World..." series (and not much more recent since I've blogged). Apparently, though I've still been traveling far and wide bringing Daughters of Wisdom to museums and universities near you, the impetus to create has just not been quite there. But it's back, my friends, it's back.

And so, dear Binghamton, I say in your honor... You not only can go home again...sometimes you really must go back to move forward.

The Lattice of Coincidence

On the first day of the Brooklyn International Film Festival last year, where DAUGHTERS OF WISDOM had its World Premiere, I met a Swedish filmmaker named Lovisa. I ‘collect’ Swedes, so the fact that I found a bright, talented and eager one at a film festival in New York wasn’t a big surprise. We became friends, and 6 months later she invited me to the holiday party for her company Governess Films at a bar in Hell’s Kitchen. There she introduced me to Joseph, a film director/producer and partner in his own production company, Cypress Films. Lovisa said “You have to meet Joe. He’s looking for someone to direct a documentary in Alaska in winter. You lived in Stockholm in winter, you lived in a rural monastic community in Tibet. You’re it”

I did meet Joe at Lovisa’s party, and again at his own holiday party the following week. Turned out he had directed a film from a script that Mike Jones, my friend and old colleague from Filmmaker Magazine, had written. And he was developing another that Annie Nocenti, my old colleague from Scenario Magazine, wrote. So this was destiny, no? I was working on another project at the time, but I started to do some research and Joe and I kept in touch over the next few months, slowly getting more and more excited about the project’s potential. In February, I went to the Sedona International Film Festival with DAUGHTERS. It was a fantastic festival in one of the most beautiful spots on the planet (see the "Sedona on My Mind" entry below). There I met fellow filmmakers Joe and Steve from Tampa, who I spent a fair bit of time with during the festival. They said, “hey, if you’re ever in Tampa, come stay with us.” Sure, like I pass through Tampa regularly.

But lo and behold, two days after I got back from Sedona, I got an invitation to the Ybor City Film Festival in Tampa, and I was on the phone with Joe and Steve “booking” my room for April. While I was in Tampa, Joe and Steve had some friends over on Saturday night. I got to talking with this guy Joe (are you sensing a pattern? Ha!), who was at the party taking a break from intense packing for his move to…Alaska. He had gone on a cruise there and had never shaken the place. Three determined years later he had found a job up there and was going to drive from Tampa to Anchorage a few weeks later. He was very excited at the prospect of my visit at some point and we kept in touch over the next few months.

Finally, last Wednesday, Joe did indeed pick me up at the Anchorage Airport. We spent the few days after that roaming around in the rain in the scenery south of Anchorage. But it
turned out that he didn’t actually know Joe and Steve in Tampa and had just gone to their house that night with a friend who told him it was time to get his nose out of moving boxes for an evening. Funny how these things happen. Above is a photo Joe snapped of me on the Seward Glacier Cruise. He's a great photographer, and I'll pass his website on to you soon.

Now I’m in the town of Whittier on Prince William Sound, which is my home for two weeks. The people here are great, and I’ve been enjoying getting to know them. The crew arrives on Monday, and this film will be something special if I can help it. Each film is in its own way. But I am struck this morning as I watch the sun rise slowly at 8:30 am into a grey October day, of just how grateful I continue to be for the opportunity I had to make DAUGHTERS OF WISDOM and to share it with such receptive and thoughtful audiences, and for the gift it has now given me to continue my craft in another community of exceptional people.

How Many Roads

I went to the Bob Dylan concert in Prospect Park, Brooklyn the other night. Never seen good ole Bobby live before so I was excited about it, though I was warned not to expect much. So I didn't, but fortunately I got a lot more than I bargained for - pretty darn good stuff, Mr. Z. He closed out the show with Blowin' in the Wind, still a powerful and sadly relevant little ditty. And also one that always makes me smile thinking about The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy and how the great question to the great answer '42' was "How many roads must a man walk down?"

I guess I was feeling pretty contemplative on that breezy delicious park night, because I suddenly thought "Hey, I'm 42" (yep, just like that) and then thought about this year of 42 I've been having and what a long, strange trip it's been (okay, groan, but I couldn't resist). I've traveled to 15 cities so far this year to attend theatrical premieres and film festival screenings of DAUGHTERS OF WISDOM in the US, Canada and Europe (though the film has been to even more). Throughout the winter and spring, I was on a plane every other week there for a while, so along the way, there's been little time to actually slow down and absorb all that has happened with this special slice of a non-arc, non-character, non-narrated documentary of mine. Except when I've had the chance to blog, of course.

But this summer has given me that time, and I'm thrilled that it was bookended by two pretty amazing events. Bookend #1 came in May, with my trip to Trento, Italy, home of the oldest-running (56 years and counting) and most prestigious mountain film festival in the world. It was an incredible week of great food, astounding films and incredible spirit, and did I mention I was in Italy? And did I mention my favorite restaurant with the chestnut and pistachio gnocchi and chocolate salami?! Not only that, we had sold out screenings where people insisted on sitting in the aisles. But wait....not only that, we WON A SPECIAL JURY PRIZE! The prize was in recognition of the film's 'realistic insight' and inspiring 'positive attitude.' Viva Italia! And now we've been invited to so many wonderful other mountain film festivals all over the world, and there's nothing I wouldn't rather do than travel peak to magnificent peak - ah, for a trust fund to call my own! Oh, and that would be the awards ceremony over there on the right.

Okay, so after Italy, the traveling came to a much-needed slow-down. I've been enjoying the summer in NYC more than I've been able to in years, and prepping for Bookend #2 - our exclusive 7 Weeks of Wednesdays run at the Rubin Museum of Art. Back in May 2006, when Carla Ruff was just beginning her editing magic on the film, we had a rough cut screening of DAUGHTERS at the Rubin Museum. The film was definitely rough, and short and preliminary back then, but the evening's event was lovely, and co-sponsored by one of the biggest champions and supporters of the film, the Hartley Film Foundation. And they've been there for us again this time around, co-sponsoring the delicious and elegant July 9 premiere of the completed film. That's yours truly (right) and the dream team of cinematographer Gena Konstantinakos (left) and editor Carla Ruff (center), at the premiere party, donning Katas offered by the museum during the Q&A. That event, and the four subsequent screenings so far, have been sold out. Thank you, New York, and the patrons of the Rubin Museum, for making our run so successful...so far...

Which brings me to my shameless self-promoting plug now. Put the kids in the other room, put the dogs out in the backyard, this is not for the faint of heart. There are still 2 more screenings to go at the Rubin Museum, so buy tickets ahead of time for the August 20 and 27 screenings. Call 212-620-5000 x344 NOW! I'll even stop writing so you can do it....

Okay, I'm back, and just wanted to let you know that if all of this post has been too Italy- and New York-centric for you, please click here to find a screening near you. And if all else fails, buy the newly released DVD.

Ciao for now!

Sedona On My Mind

I didn't write from Sedona back in February, partially because the Sedona International Film Festival came during the throes of a lot of traveling for yours truly, and partially because sometimes the mind just has to stop and enjoy when it's in such a beautiful place. I met many great co-conspirators in filmmaking there, and had a lovely, restful time. It's one of those film festivals that is so incredibly supported by the area locals that you just want to make another film to be able to go back there with it. Hats off to festival director Patrick Schweiss and his incredible staff and volunteers....and here's a little something for your viewing pleasure (the latest in the series of 'What in the World..." entries.

Shout-outs though, to two great films that I saw in Sedona that will be making their way to the Brooklyn Film Festival this June: the fiction feature The Blue Hour (playing June 2 & 3) written and directed by Eric Nazarian (who I know from past lives for sure) and the short film Joburg (playing June 6 & 7) by my Sedona B&B cohabitator Thabo Wolfaardt. Please go out and support them!

Jesus Christ Made Seattle Under Protest (look it up)

I’m back in the Pacfic Northwest. A place I’ve been lucky enough to visit a few times during this tour. First was Vancouver last fall, a place I fell truly, madly, deeply in love with. And that’s not just because the nuns were such a hit. (see previous blog entries for details) After three sold out shows at the Vancouver Film Festival we played for a week theatrically in February. I was doing a lot of traveling and couldn’t retrace my steps back up to that fair city. But between those two events, I had the chance to spend a few days opening the film theatrically in Portland, which felt like a close second geographically.

Portland is a great city, and my experience was enhanced by the excellent hosting of Richard Beer, who runs the Hollywood Theatre, and Tara Johnson who co-sponsored the event as part of the POW Fest (which if memory serves, is actually running this weekend). The Hollywood is a grand dame of a theater, an old art deco façade with cavernous space inside, which of course has been divided into three screens at this point, but still. We got some comprehensively stellar reviews in the Portland press, and the turnout was diverse and enthusiastic. I was particularly moved to have several members of the Tibetan community at the first screening who subsequently sent others to follow. They uniformly thanked me for steering clear of the politics and getting to the heart of the people and life in their homeland and I couldn’t have asked for more.

But really, the highlight of the whole trip was Richard’s young son Harry (Hi Harry!). Harry and I bonded on the ice. In full disclosure, I brokered that deal. I had discovered an ice skating rink in the shopping mall near my hotel, but also discovered to my dismay that there were no adults skating without a wee one by their side. So I lovingly ‘borrowed’ Harry and his sister Maddy for my own selfish ends. In my own defense, Maddy is quite a skater, with her own fancy skates and fabulous skating skirt so it’s not like it was child labor or anything. And Harry and I had a blast playing tag. Here’s my wobbly feet in ugly rental skates.

But now I am in Washington State. Just closed out the run in the Pickford Cinema in Bellingham. I met Michael Falter last year at the Big Sky Documentary Film Festival where we sneak previewed last February. He approached me afterwards and said “whenever you want to book a week in Bellingham, you’ve got it.” And so now, nearly a year and a half later, this was the week. It was great hanging out with him and his partner Susan in that beautiful waterside city. The crowd was again very receptive and a group of ‘fans’ even took me to dinner Thursday night. Thanks ladies! Michael and Susan are busy at work renovating a new space to house an expanded cinema/art space in town, and I can’t wait to return to their new home.But now for the past two days I’ve been in sunny Seattle. (who’d a thunk it?) Sunny, hot as blazes, Seattle. I even got sunburned today. Another week run at another jewel of a volunteer-fueled arthouse cinema, the Grand Illusion. Buddha bless you all! It’s been a tough opening, with competition from both the sun which until now hasn’t made an appearance in months. And a pretty great street festival going on right outside. The walls are thin, the street bands loud, so darned if there aren’t going to be people leaving the theater remarking their surprise that live reggae has made it to Tibet. I did manage to purchase a long-sought toe ring. A very kind and overly-enthusiastic chick even windexed my stinky foot and custom fit me (don’t ask). Ticket sales have steadily grown over the last 6 screenings, and hopefully our rave reviews across the board will keep the momentum going. I’m hoarse from a string of 30-minute Q&As (thank you, Seattle) and red-eyeing out of here tonight to catch His Holiness the Karmapa in NYC. The beat goes on!