Rest in peace, oh beautiful, sad organ

Today, we take a moment to honor the antique Clough & Warren organ that played a significant role in our Rite of Spring music film — and in many peoples' lives over the past 135 years.

I found the organ on Craigslist exactly a year ago. The owners, who were totally charming and helpful, had cared for the instrument for several generations and were looking to de-clutter. No judgements on them: while the instrument, built in 1878, was something of a family heirloom and an example of impeccable craftsmanship, it was a bit of an eyesore... a gothic monstrosity... the Debbie Downer of furniture items. It's so creepy, in fact, that they advertised the organ on Craigslist as the perfect addition to a haunted house!

They were so taken with our videos that they generously offered us the instrument for a price we couldn't refuse, even though we had no idea how we would incorporate the instrument into a future video. 

Greg with the original owners of the instrument. October 2012.

The organ quickly made its way into the conception of our Rite of Spring film, after we had decided upon the themes of materialism, gluttony, and sacrifice — as a symbol of the first two, and something that could serve as, well... a sacrifice. The organ first makes its way into the film in Episode 6 (the "Introduction to Part II"), stark and alone in the middle of the desert. Throughout the film, and especially throughout the video shoots, the instrument took an enormous beating: we covered it in paint, red wine, bugs, bubbles, and sweat. In the end, we managed to bring our original vision to life: we sacrificially destroy the instrument in a baptism of flames and water. Watch for the dramatic sacrifice in the final episode. We literally pushed the organ into the ocean, then hauled it back out and set it on fire. :-)

(The organ got its comeuppance when it tore off my large toenail while filming in the massive waves of water.)

We grew fond of the organ after working with it for nearly a year. We'll show some footage of us playing it — really playing it — when we release the behind-the-scenes video. For now, suffice it to say that while the complete and utter destruction of a beautiful, 135-year-old organ was sad (tear-inducing, even), we did it for the music. We went to these extreme lengths because we ultimately had no other choice: we had to stay true to the colossal scope and vision of the music. In the end, while the instrument will no longer play its reedy tune, it will live on forever in our visual realization of Stravinsky's cacophonous and apocalyptic score. 

Rite: BUGS! RoS: Episode 9

Our concept for this particular movement—entitled "Ritual Action of the Ancestors" in Stravinsky's score—revolves around the idea of decay and dissolution. If the organ, in all its curlicued, hoary stateliness, symbolizes the corporeal, then, as with all material things, it cannot exist forever.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust ...

Its decay is not only inevitable; it is revealing. Appearances are often deceiving: what is beautiful and alluring on the outside can be corrupt and even depraved within. This episode examines what happens when the protagonists choose to relinquish their material attachments in order to face Reality unencumbered. To communicate this narratively crucial (and rather existential!) denouement, we sought ways to make the organ's degeneration not only visceral but disturbing. In choosing to have the bugs emerge from the organ as it rots, we took inspiration from two things: 1) the organ itself, with its macabre aesthetic, not to mention its many orifices!, and 2) the music, which sounds creepy and crawly and haunting and ominous, with its undulating tell-tale heartbeat spelling doom.

To give credit where it's due, Greg—my ultra imaginative yet sometimes off-his-rocker colleague—was the one who thought of the bugs in the first place, on one of our many in-flight brainstorming sessions during our Asia concert tour last fall. (Although I love to sleep / read / watch movies / basically avoid work on flights, I can attest to planes providing an incredibly fruitful setting for creativity: a) you're captive, b) you're in an almost dreamlike state half the time, and c) you're literally miles and miles above the ground ... that's gotta affect one's mental state, right? Needless to say, folks, the majority of concepts within this Rite of Spring film were dreamt up in the air!) OK, so this long, ostensibly random tangent leads to what I'm about to say .....

I DID NOT enjoy the filming of the millipedes, harmless as they were; to put it simply, I am not a fan of bugs. Just writing about the experience now makes my skin crawl. *shudder* That said, I'm generally open to trying new things, and I'm willing to sacrifice personal comfort (to a degree) for the sake of art. And for all you entomologically-inclined people out there, don't worry—we didn't pluck random bugs off the sidewalk or from someone's yard. We went the "official" route and ordered a bunch of millipedes online, and while they were in our care, Greg fed them little bits of veggies from the nearby farmer's market (not kidding!). To assuage my jitters, I jokingly gave them nicknames (to be said in a kiddie voice for maximum effect): Millie A, Millie B, etc., etc.

The filming required lots of patience, trusty assistants (thank you, Caitlin and Cody!), and chopsticks to keep the millipedes on course. They had a tendency to go astray, crawling in the exact opposite direction from what we wanted. There was always the errant one (or three) that would crawl right off the keyboard, almost into my lap, and every time I yelped in horror. To make things even worse, the first one that was placed on my hand excreted—I think it sensed my fear! Speaking of fear, whenever the millipedes felt threatened, they would curl up in a cinnamon-roll-like bundle, ruining the shot and interrupting the flow of filming. So while they might look coordinated onscreen, they were actually very unpredictable. 

Still, all the discomfort (and squealing on my part) appeared to be worthwhile; the millipedes leave quite an indelible impact and fill the viewer with dread, setting up the organ's cataclysmic swan song. Vivent les mille-pattes! Vive le sacre!

EPISODE 9 of 10: Upon grappling with their inner demons, the journeyers emerge even stronger and more vigilant. This newfound awareness shakes the foundation of their egoic attachments and material trappings. The degeneration of these worldly fetters opens the pathway to their final, inevitable task.

RoS: Episode 8

Lesson learned from filming Episode 8: playing the piano while wearing LED gloves is nasty challenging! Be glad you don't have to listen to the real audio during those scenes; it's an utter mess. (Not that we *ever* miss notes. ;-)

EPISODE 8 of 10: The journeyers return to their mission with a newly sharpened focus and even greater urgency, transformed by the revelations of their hallucinatory flashback. Yet this resurgence of resolve is threatened by the attachments, doubts and fears that persist within. To overcome these dark forces, the seekers must summon their latent, untapped power — the inviolable wisdom of the ages.

Rite: Hallucinations! RoS: Episode 7

Liz and I seem to have endless visual ideas when it comes to hallucinations and music. We filmed an unbelievable amount of footage for this episode, and we were so sad to pare it down to a mere three minutes. Our mantra while filming, it seems, was: "Great idea! Let's film it!" It took me two weeks alone just to watch and sort through all the footage! Bubbles, Christmas lights, black lights, clocks, Kabuki outfits, dancers, smoke, masks, candles, crazy lenses, wine, and more.

Special thanks to our friends who helped with this episode, especially the four lovely dancers; Caitlin, our skilled bubble-blower; the Glinsky's, who dropped everything to let me terrorize their clock during a dinner party; and all of our "life-flashing-before-your-eyes" stand-ins!

EPISODE 7 of 10: As darkness falls upon the earth, the wanderers weave in and out of a fever dream that is part primordial remembrance, part futuristic mirage. This time-bending dance eventually spirals into no-man's land, triggering the journeyers to snap back to reality: the hand of fate has irrevocably assigned them to complete their mission.

ROS: Episode 6

This was, undoubtedly, one of our favorite *and* most infuriating shoots. We're both suckers for the colors, moods, and symbolism of dusk — a sunset, after all, is one of those things that routinely reminds us of the earth's beauty, every day, no matter where we may be: in the dirty city, on a plane, sitting on the patio at home... 

But filming a music video during twilight can be a nightmare. First of all, twilight seems to be done and over with in all of 20 minutes, which is decidedly never enough time for our needs. It's as if the sun just can't wait to get to bed, so impatient as it approaches the horizon. Then, the sun, ever-present in the background, serves as a visual clock for the viewer: it's an inconsistency time bomb waiting to happen. Everything must be filmed on time and in order, or the sun will appear to jump up and down the horizon like a yo-yo. To make matters worse, somebody in an ultra light helicopter kept ruining our "African Safari" shot!

Frustrations aside, we're really pleased with the result! It's our ode to dusk.

EPISODE 6 of 10: The journey has entered a new dimension: the alien landscape of the mind. As the seekers proceed inward, they begin to detach from the world around them. In the gloaming, they face the murky unknown.

P.S. Does the music sound familiar to you? R2-D2 and C-3PO wander the deserts of Tatooine to this music in the Star Wars films. (Apparently John Williams is a fan of the Rite of Spring too!)