THE BACKSTORY - As an Art and Communication student at DePaul University in the early 1990's, I spent each weekday commuting on the el to school and work, between suburbia and Chicago, while listening to my white Sony tape and radio walkman. Often XRT (93.1) would serve as entertainment on the long train rides, playing some great new local artists, including the Smashing Pumpkins, Urge Overkill, Liz Phair and Poi Dog Pondering. Even Eddie Veder, a graduate of Evanston High School, was making his mark as the lead singer of that other Seattle grunge band, Pearl Jam. The music scene was exciting and movies of the time, "Pump up the Volume", "Threesome" and the pivotal "Pulp Fiction" benefited from new artists, old tracks, great storytelling and a multi-sensory experience that set the tone for the decade.
During one of those daily commutes, the train stopped at Lawrence and out the dirty window and in the morning twilight I saw a blond figure sitting on the fire escape of the Aragon Theater. This young, cute guy, cigarette in hand, elbows on his denim-covered knees, was facing south and appeared to be in great self-reflection. As my own face moved closer towards the el window and my eyes squinted I realized it was no other than Kurt Cobain. Nirvana had just played the night before and who knows what transpired between the performance and 6:30 the next morning? Part of me was so amazed to see what I had witnessed. And part of me was sad, knowing that this was a man who was pursuing his craft while I was pursuing an insane life of too many responsibilities with no foreseeable future of a Life of The Arts. And, being stuck inside this work train and seeing this blond rock angel breathing in all of Chicago on those stairs, little did I know the full irony of my alleged self-entrapment and Kurt's perceived freedom.
During that early part of the decade, as new Democratic blood was getting ready to shake up the White House, XRT began playing cover songs of a Canadian poet and songwriter, a certain Leonard Cohen. The first track off I'm Your Fan I must have heard was "First We'll Take Manhattan" by a then lesser-known REM. A certain poetry resonated in that song: an older wisdom combined with a groovy beat. Other truly alternative musicians contributed to this album and the artist list read like a college radio dj's wet dream: Echo and the Bunnyman's Ian McCulloch, the Pixies, Lloyd Cole, Nick Cave and the Badseeds and John Cale, who hypnotized with his rendition of what Canada would eventually call its greatest song ever: "Hallelujah." (the same "Hallelujah" the late Jeff Buckley covered in what is now a haunting memory of his short life.)
One specific song on that disk blew me away. From the first time I heard it, I visualized a story. A film. A movie. A passionate and tumultuous affair between a man and woman. A romance. Perhaps a murder. A crime. Of passion. Or of blood. Or both. The song was called "So Long, Marianne" and a new band James covered it. I became obsessed with this song. I included the song on my mix tapes. I played it over and over and over again, rewinding my walkman and stopping to make sure I would find the beginning. I kept seeing the elements in the story: a new razor blade, a palm reading, angels, laughing, crying and a pretty woman changing her name. "Why isn't anyone making a movie with this song?" I kept asking myself. Perhaps asking the universe.
"So Long, Marianne" is a story. A visual epic. "So Long, Marianne" is a film.
THE STATLER 7
In Fall 2006, in time for Rosh Hashana, and a season when annually my life changes, I moved back to the Statler in downtown Cleveland and started a new job with American Greetings Interactive. Moving back to this once grand hotel of downtown Cleveland was like a homecoming, only better. While some faces were familiar, little did I know that a certain
magical connection between seven people was about to unfold.
Daniel - At that point I already knew Daniel, one of the first friends I made in this city. Daniel, who grew up in Ann Arbor Michigan, is more than a friend, though, he's the younger brother I never had and his loyalty, kindness and goodness as a human being are rare traits of anyone living in Today's World. Daniel and I have our own special ritual: Saturday pad thai dinners at Lemon Grass, followed by a movie at the Cedar Lee and then hot chocolate (on what always seems like a cold night, even in the summer,) at Starbuck's, where Daniel and I discuss the movie just watched in intricate length. As an avid reader and son of a successful author father, Daniel recognizes fine story telling. For one of my birthdays, Daniel gave me what I now consider a life-changing gift:
Crooked River Burning. A thick historical novel detailing the recipe to Cleveland's fiscal decline, the book freed me as a writer, taught me the significance of Vincent Street and planted a seed about what can truly unfold in a town I call home. Daniel, a talented piano player, did not realize that by giving me
Crooked River Burning, he would one day be roped into a sentimental echo to this masterpiece of a book.
Sylvia - I knew Sylvia from American Greetings and met her at one of my Supper Clubs. Quiet until she gets to know you, Sylvia is a mystery. Even knowing her all these years, I still can't say I really know her well. With her blond hair and piercing blue eyes, Sylvia likes her martinis dry, her steaks rare and her cars German. She works in AG's sales department and is a closet writer. A creative soul at heart, Sylvia lived in L.A. and worked as an actress, with appearances on "Beverly Hills 90210" as well as other television shows. In 2007 she (briefly) moved into the Statler and, along with her eety bitty and very well-mannered dog Leli, became an excellent walking companion and new neighbor.
Miguelle - Miguelle and I met at the 2006 Statler Christmas party. It was one of those rare, across the room moments. We had met that night, but it was as though we were always part of each other's lives. Miguelle is a brilliant auditor for Ernst & Young, but that's just the beginning of his resume. He's a leader in the community, a mover and shaker and lights up any room he enters. He has a gift for making people smile and, while living one floor below in the exact same apartment as mine, we had numerous random door knocks, followed by late into the night conversations about everything from business school to dating to family to both admitting how lucky we are to know one another. We both also adore Scorsese and the Godfather trilogy. Whether enjoying lentil soup post-work while watching "Law & Order" or texting one another at midnight after bad
dates, there's a certain "for life" love and friendship the two of us have.
Sonia & Sawwaf - I met Sonia upstairs at the Statler gym and we just started talking. Sonia is a healthcare professional at Cleveland Clinic and her husband, an excellent cook, works at Eaton while pursuing his MBA. The two met while living in opposite ends of the continent: San Francisco and Toronto. Picking Cleveland as their neutral city to call home, the newlyweds became the poster couple for us singletons: if these two found each other from that far away and are this happy, then we can all find someone to love. While Sonia's profession is scientific, it is her maternal and caring side that draws one in and her ability to notice what others don't provides a creative third eye for artists. In May 2007, on a Thursday night, Sonia called me asking me if I was up for dinner. I was and once we finished our outdoor meal at the Corner Alley on East 4th, I suggested that we walk towards the Q, to reel in the momentum of the last Cavs championship game against the Spurs. We had no tickets and we sensed Game 4 would be the end of this season, but the evening was wonderful and warm and as we headed towards the stadium, I began to notice something disturbing. "Sonia, look around. Look carefully. Every cop in the city is right here, right now: on foot, on horse, on motorcycle, in car. Do you know what that means? It means there's parts of Cleveland where there are no cops tonight. And it's a perfect night for a crime to be committed." Without hesitation, Sonia turned to me and said "And you have to write that story."
Evan - Evan landed into my life like an Indian monsoon: knocking me off my comfort cloud and only making appearances in a certain kind of random consistency. Multiple people wanted to introduce us after he moved here from Atlanta and during our first phone conversation we discovered we shared the same favorite movie: Goodfellaws. Our list of things in common read like the Double-Axel of a DNA strand: he's a communications and film professor, a musician, an art lover, comes from a Jewish Eastern European family and even down to the dark curly hair, I am suspect that during some world war in the old country our blood lines must have crossed. Evan's unofficial creative mentor role to me initiated when he came over to help me hang oversized stainless steel sheets into my then office, now studio. The three panels, ideal for movable note cards, photos and inspirations to be held in place by magnets, enabled me to showcase many of my creative projects from college, that, until recently spent over a decade in a sealed portfolio. Projects that had to, finally, see light. A few months after the metal sheet hanging, Evan went through hundreds upon hundreds of my Cleveland photos and helped me edit them down - teaching me horizon, balance, contrast, color and what makes a relevant photograph. After twenty years of taking photos, for the first time, someone actually taught me why the good ones are good. And, when I asked Evan which book to read to know how to write a screenplay, he helped with that as well. A college professor, movie director, bass player and wine connoisseur, Evan has been my own personal Creative Chi Master and his patience and wisdom has fostered much of this project.
The Statler 7 experienced an amazing summer together in 2007. Most of us were not born in Cleveland. Some of us were not even born in the United States. The seven of us represent four to five different ethnic backgrounds and just as many different religions. We all have family in
our home cities that we are close to and that we love dearly. There is no reason on the planet why we should have met or why we bonded as we did. But we did. And, collectively this self-adopted family has served as the critical muse, thawing the "So Long Marianne" song hibernation and providing me with all the right energy forces to carry out the vision to make this a film.
THE BAND - In late Fall of 2007, shortly after shifting career paths into the Editorial Department at AG's Creative Studio, I realized how critical music was to this project. The movie is inspired by a song. I needed talented musicians that could drive forward that vision. People who could collaborate, create, play and perform together - sans ego and with tremendous talent. In a typical movie process, a movie is made and then a soundtrack is added. Sometimes this happens simultaneously. Yet rarely does a soundtrack begin development prior to one official word of a screenplay actually being written. But, then, nothing about this process has been typical.
Vanessa - Around the same time I moved back to the Statler and began my .com job my next-cube neighbor was a "quiet" young product manager named Vanessa. A petite brunette who kept her working space minimalist, for the exception of photos of her stunning curly-haired blond masterpiece named Aria, Vanessa's energy immediately spoke to mine. We did not know each other, but we knew what we were all about. Like Sylvia and Evan, Vanessa also had lived in L.A. and the minute she told me about her Madonna connection, I knew there was much brewing in Vanessa's personal talent pool. The first time I heard Vanessa sing - I shed a tear. Her voice reminded me of a young Kate Bush and had a certain vulnerability that was incredibly inviting. A song-writer and a guitar player at heart, Vanessa is a first class musician and now dear friend.
Tony - Vanessa's partner, best friend and Aria's dad, Tony came to Cleveland, also from L.A., to be with the two women he loved. A warm and kind presence and a music teacher, Tony also plays guitar and is rarely seen without a smile on his face. I first met him while my friend Ben and I were at Pacific East on Coventry. There, Vanessa, Aria and Tony were enjoying a Friday night sushi outing. A genuinely beautiful family, seeing them all together that night confirmed the collaborative connection rooted in the people sitting at that table.
Aria - I met Aria, over a breakfast at Jack's. That morning I witnessed an amazing kid with an ability to connect with those around her, in a positive and good manner. Aria has a certain assertiveness about her that can not be taught - she was born with this. Once Aria knows your name, she always remembers it. And particularly loves hanging out with her mom and dad. When Vanessa and Tony are within sight, Aria is a happy girl.
Evan & Daniel - With Vanessa and Tony interested in participating in the project, I also approached Evan and Daniel to join the group. Both men were interested, and, actually, quiet excited to be part of this unique experience.
And there they were: two guitar players, a keyboardist and a bass player. And here we are. Writing a movie. Making a soundtrack. Creating something very special. Living a Life of the Arts.
It started with a song.
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