Our first 16-mm exercise was to tell a story in three shots with no sound. Due to the lack of time, the first two exercises are filmed at the school or in the streets surrounding it. As for actors, the easiest thing is to use some members of the group. Under these conditions, no one expected masterpieces. After all, this practice session is more a camera test than a meditated narrative exercise.

In the NYFA, you have to attend all the shoots of the members of the group. The roles of director of photography, assistant camera, gaffer and actor rotate by decision of the current director. On the whole, these shoots were fairly enjoyable. The people in the group are nice and this time there were no problems; however, it soon became very clear that no one knew what they were doing. This was logical, of course, because if you start from zero, it’s hard to assimilate in such a short time all the information they give you the first week. Suddenly they push you out on the street with a 16-mm camera and nobody knows where to start. I imagine that the school is aware of this and is employing some kind of shock therapy: the sooner you fall down, the faster you learn.

The result was a cinematic bloodbath from which I emerged neither unscathed nor guiltless. Although I had an advantage because I had a little more experience, my skill with a light meter is equivalent to that of a monkey with a brush. The transfer of my first exercise to digital revealed a series of blackened images in which I looked for information without much luck.

In class, the projection of the exercises was a terrible succession of underdeveloped films filled with incoherent shots that gave new meaning to the word “experimental”. The only understandable stories were the most elementary: people slipping on banana skins, men needing to urinate, Matrix-style fights… At the end of the projection, totally inebriated with so much absurdity, we all applauded like mad.

Eladio, the director of photography for my shorts, arrived on Wednesday to spend a week in the city. After my latest exposure problems in 16 mm, the sight of his figure at my door had the impact of a mystical apparition. Suddenly I felt protected. On the other hand, I also felt slightly resentful toward him. The traitor had abandoned me in a labyrinth of crazy diaphragms and light meters. Actually, Eladio had not come to help me at school, but I daydreamed about that for a long while. Obviously, if he were in the course I would have many more possibilities of returning to Barcelona with something worthwhile. What a shame.

I should also say that Eladio’s first night was very exciting. Since he arrived worn out from the trip, we had supper and I accompanied him to the hostel I had found nearby. He was to stay in a room with six bunk beds. Apparently, when he had been sleeping like a log for a while, some guy came over and scolded him because his snores were keeping him awake. Eladio didn’t pay much attention and kept on. Minutes later, the guy reappeared and installed himself in the bunk. Since Eladio kept on snoring, he remained there, hitting him on the back whenever he started again.

Eladio, who is a pacific man, ignored him and continued to sleep. Next, the intruder asked him if he were “STRAIGHT”. Eladio, who didn’t have a very good idea of what that meant, said NO. From then on, things got worse: the guy asked him if he could kiss him, whispered naughty things in his ear and tried to latch on to his body like a leech. In short, Eladio spent hours dozing, trying to convince the guy to return to his own bed and intermittently sleeping. Finally, since Eladio is pretty big and refused any direct contact, the guy decided to go back to his own bed. Apparently he wasn’t comfortable in the piece of bed left him. So there you have it. If you’re thinking about sleeping in hostels in NYC, be sure to brush up on your English.

In the morning, I felt very guilty for having found him such a dump. The hostel was cheap and at first sight had seemed decent to me. Fortunately, since Sylvia got along with Eladio right away, she let him spend a few days at the loft and the incident was not repeated. This time, when I asked him if he were straight, he answered YES.

I spent the rest of the week shamelessly being a tourist with Eladio. We visited all the official tourist attractions: the Empire State building, the Statue of Liberty, Central Park, etc. We also went to Coney Island, ate hot dogs and then happily threw them up in the Cyclone. We went to restaurants and partied. It felt very good to be here with a friend.

As for the course, I missed all the classes I considered dispensable, although I attended the classes on cinematography and all the shoots. I didn’t want to let anyone in the group down.

At the end of the week, we began to film the second exercise on continuity. Basically, it meant recording a scene in 10 shots, respecting the axes and the directions in which the characters moved. Since I had had no time to think of anything, I ended up filming something terribly tacky that I had improvised a few hours before. I justified myself by saying that the important thing was continuity and that conditions didn’t allow for much more, but the truth is that it still frightens me to think what kind of mental mechanism impelled me to shoot THAT. I’m consoled by the fact that the exposure will be OK because Eladio helped us with the lighting. I’ll be satisfied as long as there is an image.

In any case, I’ll try to take our next exercise more seriously; it’s a musical video clip. I wonder what the result will be...