To make Trimpin: The Sound of Invention, Peter Esmond followed the titular composer and sound/sculpture artist for two years, capturing his day-to-day process from scavenging at a junk yard to trying to convince the Kronos Quartet to smash their instruments. A clip of the latter scene is embedded below the jump, where Esmonde also talks about escaping corporate America, stalking Janet Pierson and how Trimpin might keep busy whilst in Austin.
Trimpin + Kronos from Peter Esmonde on Vimeo.
Tell us about your movie. Who did you work with, why did you make it? Give us the reductive, 25-word or less, “It’s like [pop culture reference a] meets [pop culture reference b]!” pitch, then explain what the quick and dirty sell leaves out.
I needed to start shooting this film pronto, because the once-in-a-lifetime retrospective of Trimpin’s work was already up and running. I shot it myself, for two reasons: At the outset, Trimpin wasn’t exactly ecstatic about being filmed, and he would’ve bucked at having more than two strangers in his studio. And I didn’t simply didn’t have the funds to hire a DP.
I hope I never again have to work with the cameraman who shot most of the footage – that guy was Mr. Fumblefingers. But, I was fortunate enough to hire two excellent doc sound recordists out of Seattle: Matt Monroe, who also did some great stills shooting; and Gabriel Miller, a filmmaker who’d relocated from NYC.
Filmmaker Maureen Gosling — Les Blank’s editor — suggested Rick Tejada-Flores as editor. A veteran doc producer/director, Rick was just then available for an editing gig, and I was glad to bring him on board.
Here’s the pitch: TRIMPIN: the sound of invention is Rivers and Tides meets Fast, Cheap, and Out of Control plus Crumb. Waltzing to the sound of his own drummer, a wildly inventive artist/inventor/engineer/composer helps the rest of the world – including the Kronos Quartet – find their own groove. It’s a cheerful earful. (49 words)
“Open your ears and your mind will follow.” (8 words)
Ultimately, TRIMPIN: the sound of invention is not a film about an artist or his particular muse or music — but about the challenges, pitfalls, and sheer joys of being a creative person in this society. I’d like to think that the film touches on many aspects of creative processes. Without dragging in Csikszentmihalyi, Feldman, Gardner, Ghiselin, Lewis Hyde, et al.:
I deliberately focused on a person who works across various disciplines, while shifting their assumptions, through a wild assortment of media, with a diverse array of collaborators. Trimpin’s assistants come from any number of disciplines. Trimpin himself is sui generis – outside category – and at the same time exemplary.
Do you have a day job/a non-filmmaking occupation that raises money for your filmmaking efforts? Tell us about it.
I worked in the industry for too many years – doing everything from assistant and sound editing to script reading and writing to associate producing – in NYC, LA, and DC. After leaving the film business to venture into the wilds of corporate America, I slowly came to the painful realization (with my spouse’s help) that I was damned to be a filmmaker — that no other set of activities was going to give me as great a sense of meaning or fulfillment.
So the subject of this film was very deliberate. I needed to make an intensely personal study of someone with the tremendous courage and tenacity it takes not to compromise their own artistic vision and worldview.
Have you been to SXSW before? If so, tell us about your funniest story from the experience. If not, what are you looking forward to re: the festival and/or the city of Austin?
Never been to SXSW before. I’ve been to Austin – but as a corporate consultant. Quite a different fettle of kitsch. The town is overflowing with tremendous creative and musical energies – the ideal place to premiere the Trimpin film.
I’m looking forward to seeing the bat bridge with Trimpin – he’s been working on using bat sounds to trigger musical elements. And I’d like Trimpin to attach touch/smell sensors to the Texas Rollergirls’ gear. That could create some really unique music.
Let’s get hypothetical: You’re on death row. The night of your execution, you’re allowed to watch any two films of your choice. What would you pick for your last-night-on-Earth double feature?
Well, depending on my mood at the time, either:
- Edison’s Electrocution of an Elephant on a double bill with Bresson’s A Man Escaped. Jumpstart my final evening with Edison’s eerie footage of Topsy getting juiced. And the Bresson might inspire me to hop over the wall. Or at least whittle my last DVD down into a knife.
- Oshima’s Death by Hanging paired with Kieslowski’s A Short Film about Killing. Mortal circumstances aside, these are just two brilliant arguments by master filmmakers. Looking at these two films side by side, I might just resign myself to the Grim Reaper:
Go ahead – let your scythe do its worst! I’ll never make a film this good, anyway!
There’s been some criticism that the only way to get into SXSW is by being a part of an “incestuous scene where everybody knows everybody.” So who did *you* have to sleep with to get in? (Metaphorically or literally: are there any SXSW filmmaker(s) past or present that you’re close with personally and/or professionally, and how have those relationships helped or hurt the process of producing your film and getting it seen?)
I hate to disappoint, but I did not know anyone at SXSW. Our editor Michael Chandler, who did so much to make our film TRIMPIN to really shine, suggested that I should stalk Janet Pierson. But, I didn’t really know how or where to stalk her! Great suggestion - but to no avail.
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SpoutBlog » Karina Longworth