Artothlon, Summer 2009

Continued from last post…

Donatus the director shows up – with Jonas, the big BIG head of something-or-other and Donatus’ boss. I watch them having a chat with the departing Zilvinas for several minutes. Then they plonk themselves in the middle of the table and Donatus announces, with a straight face…

…that he wants us to sign the contract NOW. If we don’t, we’re out. He wants to start filming tomorrow. Are we in? Or out?

Let’s just say, words were said. And for the most part, it wasn’t polite and it wasn’t pretty.

He objected to our words and said he’d just been joking. And given that we were so interested in rigour and competition, how did we feel about the format changing to one of elimination, during the course of the seven weeks?

I’ve lost the will to live at this stage, and I can’t give you a report of the full discussion without doing damage to my emotional health, but inevitably some of it reverted to Lithuanian as the local artists tried to get their views heard in their own language.

We’d been happy and up for it, we’d been knocked down again and for what? Kornelya reckoned that she’d talked to other, not so verbal, artists who had still been confused, and so had invited Donatus to come and “clarify” matters.

Well he did so, like, as Romeo says, an elephant in a china shop. And did Zilvinas know all along that this is what they’d planned to do? If so, what had the previous four hours been about? Are they listening to us at all?

Some of us have been emotionally packing for home for the last 24 – 48 hours. One or two of us have been, I suspect, physically packing. The to-ing and fro-ing is exhausting.

A group have gone off to swim in the lake.

The rest of us are back at the dorm, betting on who can get eliminated first.

More later.

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He did. Without making any promises, he was, he said, being completely honest with us and told us that after a big and very long meeting with the production crew this morning, his concerns had been resolved and that he thought the balance was about right. And that we should all try to watch Donatus the director’s award-winning film, The Bug Trainer. I got the distinct feeling that the TV people had just been a bit, well, cack-handed with us.

Okay – that’s fine. Zilvinas got down to brass tacks. He wanted to amend the contract, until we were happy, there and then. The producer Tadas had arrived and between around 20 of us, we managed to sort out our issues. On the question of “unconditional” obedience to the production team plus being fined for not doing so, Nathaniel came up with a solution that was elegant beyond belief. He suggested that the real problem for us was a concern that our professional integrity could be undermined. Could we include a clause that allowed us to leave at any time, if any of us felt that that was the case?

Tadus was happy with this, as long as the previous clause about unconditional obedience was left in – after all, from their point of view, that’s about not wasting valuable crew’n’kit time.

This was a massive – MASSIVE relief. So we done it and dusted it and he agreed that Brooklyn Tom could have an electronic version to email to a lawyer in the States, if we could have it back on the table in the morning, signed, ready for the press conference on Tuesday.

It felt like we were finally on board, that the conflict had been doused and that all our concerns about the motives of the TV people had been worked out.

So to beer, smoke, talking about ANYTHING other than contracts and art – two words I figured I never wanted to hear again. We’re all cool, we’re all, we think, on board. We go to eat, we’re planning a film club, we’re all happy and laughing and eating soup.

Then Zilvinas leaves to finally catch up with his kids, and guess what.

Continued on next post…

Continued from last post…

Where to begin?

The agenda was to present our work to each other in an relaxed, informal setting. I’d intended to write about the practice of all the other artists on the project. I’d have mentioned that I now realise why we’re always being reminded at college of the importance of critical selection when presenting one’s work. I might have mentioned the heat of the day, the laws of Powerpoint and the fact that we did it for THREE AND A HALF HOURS. I’d certainly have talked about how genuinely useful I found it to hear the other artists talk about their work.

But frankly, that all fades into insignificance, compared to what happened next.

We’d spent all morning talking with each other about the contract. The damned contract. The bit we all object to – including the Lithuanian artists who are now staying with us – is the clause that says we must “unconditionally” do whatever the producers say we should do. And, of course, the clause that says if we don’t, we get fined. Yes, fined. Proper money.

Of course we understand the importance of having us commit to the project – after all, TV crew and kit cost big bucks. But the memory of the, frankly, crass “elimination” business of the Lithuanian artists a couple of days ago is still rattling like a caged rat in our collective memory.

So anyway. Zilvinas Lilas, the author of the project, alongside Miga, had arrived off the plane from Cologne where he’d just finished teaching the summer semester. Zilvinas is an art-maker of some repute. Having worked in “the trenches” (as he describes it), painting cells for Disney for some years, he got a teaching job and has been building up his artistic practice ever since.

Given that he’d been the author of the original project, and one of the main players who’d interviewed us, we were keen to meet him. The project we’d signed up to was one that, while being a reality TV show, had shown a commitment to rigour and critical enquiry. We’d been hoping that he’d be able to re-assure us that while they’d sold the idea to the TV company, he and Miga would still be able to ensure that if we put our professional (or emergent) reputations on the line for this show, we wouldn’t be subjected to some sort of humiliating Reality TV nightmare.

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Damn internet still wasn’t working last night but I had to get this down there and then. Uploaded the morning after, and split into sections that A-N‘s system can manage.

I can only add that because sweet Monica (one of the Lithuanian artists) had moved into the room adjoining mine – and locked the shared door while my bag was in my room – locking me OUT. The others had gone to the lake but Eero showed me the footage that he’d taken of the evening’s unfolding. It’s golddust.

More: I’ve had an email back from Eve, a pal of mine who has worked for years in reality TV. She said this:

“No I have never seen a contract where you can fine contributors. Basically even if they sign a release form, they can pull out anytime they like. Then it’s a moot point whether you can show their contribution up to the point they pulled out. It depends on whether they say they would be damaged by the broadcast… But from point of view of the producer, you have very little power to make contributors behave. Never heard of a contract where you fine people.”

I’m half on my way to the airport and half thinking this could be such fun. But whatever happens, I’ll try to stick with the rest of the group. Solidarity is key.

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The wifi at the CAC is stronger than back at the dorm, so the Lithuanian baby death metal footage has only just been uploaded now.

Aren’t they wonderful?

I’m starting to collect web addresses for Lithuanian artists but so far, Saulius’ isn’t quite finished, Monica and Tadas don’t have one.