Real Life Story #7: Transmutating from a metal-casting sculptor to "filmmaker" (a bright-lights/scary-tech video camera operator/later editor of plastic strips (1970-71).

The offer to join Phil Makanna's video class came out of nowhere, with only seconds to decide YES or NO. (story is from my latest book, OTHER LIVES...&WHAT-IFs: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CLJR2KY1

The next life-altering decision I made––we’re up to the year 1970 now––was not dismissing the possibility of taking a video class, offered right in the middle of my sculpting days at college. I came very close to giving the seat away...as you’ll read up ahead, which would have meant never making a video/film, and never writing a book about how to produce a feature film “at used-car prices.”

CCA(C) campus, Oakland, CA
OK, so there I was, happily watching a teacher (later friend) Don Rich, weld my white bronze castings together. The artwork consisted of a pair of “eagle’ wings about 20” high, that I had designed to tie together in a knot at the top points (like a shoelace), held up by a white bronze base. Don was an expert at working metals and I was very thankful that he agreed to do the difficult arc welding it took, to join these two pieces together. And since he was helping me at a level way beyond “teacher aiding student,” I decided to surprise him with some pay. Since I had recently acquired a very special sterling silver railroad watch, with an etching of a steam locomotive on the back side, I decided to honor his effort by giving him a choice. Either $40 (I showed him the bills in my hand) or...(and here’s where I removed the watch from my pocket)...THIS. His eyes lit up, and of course he wanted the watch! <https://www.donrichstudios.com/projects>.

I was glad that I hadn’t dishonored our interaction without gifting him. And the welds held, giving my largest cast sculpture to date a way to present it on a high stand. But back to how “video” figured into that day. In the midst of me standing with Don, while he illuminated the walls of the sculpture studio with bright arc welding, up came a fellow student to talk to me about something.

“Hi. You’re Rick, right?”
“Yep,” I said, wondering what he wanted.
“I learned that you are in a video class, Phil’s class, and wonder if I could have your place if you decide not to do it.

Phil Makanna, now known for his photography and books (<https://ghosts.com/>) had asked me to join his class weeks earlier, because he liked my sculptures. Thinking then, about being in a video studio––moviemaking with bright white and glaring lights, intrusive, probably with a person on-camera recording one’s every freckle––seemed like the last place I thought I’d ever want to be.

In any case, as a camera-shy person I weakened, and told the guy, “Sure, OK, you can have it.” He seemed overjoyed, and quickly turned, heading at a fast clip toward the registration office in the distance. He got about 15 feet in that direction before I had a change of heart.

“Actually…” I called out, “I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to keep the class.”

I don’t remember his sad or disappointed face as I shut him down, but I do know that thinking about it while he was walking quickly away I suddenly couldn’t give it up. I realized that the challenges of such a new thing––moviemaking––could be a correct idea to pursue. And that there was a sort of tingling in my skin––feeling that I had just enough confidence to jump into such an unknown activity. In the few seconds I had, I’d examined my aversion to change, and threw caution––and fear––to the wind. YES, I said, maybe to the universe, I’m ready to bust out of what I think of myself, to be a little bit new.

Without the latest praise I’d received from my metal castings, and winning full scholarships there at school, I probably would have let it go. Believe me, my decision-making––to take that class–– was of the subtlest nature. Thinking about my career in movies and books, my efforts in those areas now having surpassed 50 year, I have to put this off-the-cuff decision in the category of MOST important, and definitely a critical turning point in my life.

BUT, what if I hadn’t taken Phil’s video class? What if I had just stuck to the metal sculpting, casting artworks, and not tried anything in media? I would have graduated in Sculpture and, if fortunate, probably then taught that discipline. Hopefully, I would have snagged a job at one of the very few college level gigs available there in the Bay Area, still getting to be around my little kids.

Here, next, is my alternate fantasy, out of the pages of what I call “An Alternate-Universe novel,” just out, entitled, OTHER LIVES, BENDS IN THE ROAD, AND WHAT-IFS;” <https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0CM68H8XW/ref=pe_2313400_778530900_em_1p_0_lm>).

RICK’S (FANTASY) SCULPTURE CLASS Let’s say that one female student had come to my sculpture class with all her dirty underwear stuffed into a glass vase––jammed in, really––with some kind of red dye poured over and around the cloth items, her ARTWORK for my weekly critique. She’d capped it all at the top by pouring in melted wax, letting that cool, then scratching in the title “Blood Girl” in the hardened wax surface. Remember, my job, as a sculpture teacher was to give feedback and help the students that came through the studio to solve production problems. I was supposed to facilitate the successful creation of 3-D objects that “spoke” to people––that’s what art was supposed to do in my book. And actually her visual “cacophony” did do that, on some level. Here’s a glimpse of how the critique might have gone, for her bloody artwork, while the small class of about ten students looked on.