Transom Podcast

“Maria, Lena and Me” on PRX

About “Maria, Lena and Me”

Lena in Russia

So here’s the very roundabout way I ended up making my first radio documentary. I’ve worked in television for the last 15 years producing news documentaries mostly for PBS. Before that, I was a graphic designer. Before that, I studied Religion and Computer Science at Oberlin College. And before that, I was a classical pianist at the High School for Performing and Visual Arts in Houston, Texas. Back then, piano was a huge defining part of my life. Yet, even though I practiced six hours almost everyday, I always knew I wasn’t going to be a concert pianist.

After the birth of my first son in 2009, I started thinking about the role music would play in his life. And I started to wonder about what role music played in my life. How did it shape who I am today? Was all the money and the hours spent in a practice room a waste? I don’t actually answer any of those questions in this radio documentary. But those questions led me to interviewing my friend Lena about why she is a classical pianist. And that question led me to Maria Yudina.

So why radio? Why not make it a video documentary?

First of all, I wanted people to really listen to Yudina’s music. And I didn’t want to spend my time digging around for archival photos and footage to use as wallpaper. It was hard enough just finding audio recordings of Yudina.

Maria Yudina

I also wanted a different experience from working in television, where there’s usually little time and money for exploring the unknown.

That brings me to gear. I’m used to lugging around heavy lights, cameras and tripods, and taking an hour to set up for one interview. But with radio, I can do a tape sync, and record in my pajamas with the baby napping in the next room?!! Wha?! It was totally liberating.

Still, it’s taken me years to make this. I worked on Yudina between freelance gigs and around my kids’ nap times. It was a labor of love, literally. (I went into labor with my second son during a follow-up interview with Lena. Stupidly, I jumped on the subway home instead of going straight to the hospital. He was born three hours after that interview.) It probably took me longer to finish because I edited in Final Cut Pro. That’s what I know. Plus, working with just sound was a whole new world to me. The editing possibilities were daunting.

But during this whole process, I think I may have answered some of my original questions — about what role music has played in my life. Although I’m very much a novice,, I love working with sound. I love editing and scoring. There’s a section with the Mozart concerto that might have taken me longer to cut if I didn’t have some musical training. I’ve also fallen in love with the piano again. The last piece Maria Yudina plays, the Bach Fugue in A minor, gives me chills ever time I hear it.

“Maria, Lena and Me” on PRX

About “Maria, Lena and Me”

Lena in Russia

So here’s the very roundabout way I ended up making my first radio documentary. I’ve worked in television for the last 15 years producing news documentaries mostly for PBS. Before that, I was a graphic designer. Before that, I studied Religion and Computer Science at Oberlin College. And before that, I was a classical pianist at the High School for Performing and Visual Arts in Houston, Texas. Back then, piano was a huge defining part of my life. Yet, even though I practiced six hours almost everyday, I always knew I wasn’t going to be a concert pianist.

After the birth of my first son in 2009, I started thinking about the role music would play in his life. And I started to wonder about what role music played in my life. How did it shape who I am today? Was all the money and the hours spent in a practice room a waste? I don’t actually answer any of those questions in this radio documentary. But those questions led me to interviewing my friend Lena about why she is a classical pianist. And that question led me to Maria Yudina.

So why radio? Why not make it a video documentary?

First of all, I wanted people to really listen to Yudina’s music. And I didn’t want to spend my time digging around for archival photos and footage to use as wallpaper. It was hard enough just finding audio recordings of Yudina.

Maria Yudina

I also wanted a different experience from working in television, where there’s usually little time and money for exploring the unknown.

That brings me to gear. I’m used to lugging around heavy lights, cameras and tripods, and taking an hour to set up for one interview. But with radio, I can do a tape sync, and record in my pajamas with the baby napping in the next room?!! Wha?! It was totally liberating.

Still, it’s taken me years to make this. I worked on Yudina between freelance gigs and around my kids’ nap times. It was a labor of love, literally. (I went into labor with my second son during a follow-up interview with Lena. Stupidly, I jumped on the subway home instead of going straight to the hospital. He was born three hours after that interview.) It probably took me longer to finish because I edited in Final Cut Pro. That’s what I know. Plus, working with just sound was a whole new world to me. The editing possibilities were daunting.

But during this whole process, I think I may have answered some of my original questions — about what role music has played in my life. Although I’m very much a novice,, I love working with sound. I love editing and scoring. There’s a section with the Mozart concerto that might have taken me longer to cut if I didn’t have some musical training. I’ve also fallen in love with the piano again. The last piece Maria Yudina plays, the Bach Fugue in A minor, gives me chills ever time I hear it.

About Southern Flight 242

When I was seven years old, my father died in a commercial plane crash. It’s a fact I grew up knowing and something I never wanted to look into, until now.

After I decided to make a radio story about the crash, I often wondered if it was the best choice as my first big project as a new radio producer. It took far longer than I ever expected, in part because it was so personal. But I realized that if I couldn’t answer tough personal questions, how could I expect others to do the same?

The initial kernel of the story idea came back in 1997 when I stumbled on an article in the New York Times about the 20th anniversary of the Southern Flight 242 accident (my family somehow missed being invited). And then in 2012, fifteen years later, I happened to be in Georgia for a conference that was 70 miles from the crash site. The key event in those intervening years was participating in the Transom Story Workshop. In Woods Hole, I learned much of what I needed to tell the story. I learned even more along the way.

Be vulnerable in your interviewing.

Researcher Brene Brown argues that vulnerability is vital for true human connection. Looking back on the project, I see now that I connected with my interview subjects out of weakness. In practice, this meant that my interview subjects knew that I was the child of a crash victim. We empathized with each other. Faith Thomas, the stranger I met in the airport, was scheduled to fly on the same delayed flight; we were equally powerless. Connecting with her was as simple as shaking my head and asking if she’d heard a recent update. Knowing about the power of vulnerability makes me wonder how I’d approach other interview subjects in the future. I’ve heard that oft-told story about Studs Terkel fiddling with his recording equipment and asking his interview subjects for help. Also useful, things like asking interview subjects for directions or advice on where to park even though those could be Googled. It also helps to be introduced by someone. I was fortunate to connect with Cherry Waddell of the New Hope Memorial Flight 242 Committee who was integral to my meeting with survivors and family members.

Get the best sound for the type of story.

I used an Audiotechnica 8010 omnidirectional mic throughout (mostly I paired it with a Sony PCM M-10 but I also had a Zoom H4N as backup). This was important for this project, since I knew that I’d need to be part of it and I also wanted to get location sounds. Unlike non-narrated radio stories where the interviewer needs to become a mime, I loosened up on reacting to the interview subjects and often pointed the mic at myself. It’s still funny to hear my reactions like affirming mmm’s and incomplete sentences. But that’s what happened! I tried to record interviews in quiet spaces but there were still noisy toddlers and determined dishwashers that wouldn’t be silent. In the end, I think all those extraneous sounds help tell the story. Recording on airplanes was a challenge, especially with flight attendants enforcing the no-electronics-during-takeoff rule, but I still managed to secretly record. I had a great foundation on this issue (and lots more) from my radio guru Rob Rosenthal at the Transom Story Workshop.

Gordon and Will Coley

Listen to yourself tell the story.

I once heard

About Southern Flight 242

When I was seven years old, my father died in a commercial plane crash. It’s a fact I grew up knowing and something I never wanted to look into, until now.

After I decided to make a radio story about the crash, I often wondered if it was the best choice as my first big project as a new radio producer. It took far longer than I ever expected, in part because it was so personal. But I realized that if I couldn’t answer tough personal questions, how could I expect others to do the same?

The initial kernel of the story idea came back in 1997 when I stumbled on an article in the New York Times about the 20th anniversary of the Southern Flight 242 accident (my family somehow missed being invited). And then in 2012, fifteen years later, I happened to be in Georgia for a conference that was 70 miles from the crash site. The key event in those intervening years was participating in the Transom Story Workshop. In Woods Hole, I learned much of what I needed to tell the story. I learned even more along the way.

Be vulnerable in your interviewing.

Researcher Brene Brown argues that vulnerability is vital for true human connection. Looking back on the project, I see now that I connected with my interview subjects out of weakness. In practice, this meant that my interview subjects knew that I was the child of a crash victim. We empathized with each other. Faith Thomas, the stranger I met in the airport, was scheduled to fly on the same delayed flight; we were equally powerless. Connecting with her was as simple as shaking my head and asking if she’d heard a recent update. Knowing about the power of vulnerability makes me wonder how I’d approach other interview subjects in the future. I’ve heard that oft-told story about Studs Terkel fiddling with his recording equipment and asking his interview subjects for help. Also useful, things like asking interview subjects for directions or advice on where to park even though those could be Googled. It also helps to be introduced by someone. I was fortunate to connect with Cherry Waddell of the New Hope Memorial Flight 242 Committee who was integral to my meeting with survivors and family members.

Get the best sound for the type of story.

I used an Audiotechnica 8010 omnidirectional mic throughout (mostly I paired it with a Sony PCM M-10 but I also had a Zoom H4N as backup). This was important for this project, since I knew that I’d need to be part of it and I also wanted to get location sounds. Unlike non-narrated radio stories where the interviewer needs to become a mime, I loosened up on reacting to the interview subjects and often pointed the mic at myself. It’s still funny to hear my reactions like affirming mmm’s and incomplete sentences. But that’s what happened! I tried to record interviews in quiet spaces but there were still noisy toddlers and determined dishwashers that wouldn’t be silent. In the end, I think all those extraneous sounds help tell the story. Recording on airplanes was a challenge, especially with flight attendants enforcing the no-electronics-during-takeoff rule, but I still managed to secretly record. I had a great foundation on this issue (and lots more) from my radio guru Rob Rosenthal at the Transom Story Workshop.

Gordon and Will Coley

Listen to yourself tell the story.

I once heard

“Of Kith and Kids” on PRX

About “Of Kith and Kids”

It started with a pledge to my local public radio station… yes!

As a sustaining member of WNYC I receive a New Yorker subscription and read the piece: State Of Play: How Tot Lots Became Places to Build Children’s Brains by Rebecca Mead. The article covers the 2010 opening of a high profile playspace in Manhattan called the Imagination Playground. The writer likened it to something much grittier, darker and, well, European: something called an adventure playground. Intrigued, I did a little Googling, read a little more and quite simply fell down the rabbit hole.

Turns out, adventure playgrounds have quietly flourished since the second World War in the UK, Denmark and Germany. They’re usually tucked into neighborhoods without much fanfare and take many forms, from chaotic junkyards to whimsical shantytowns. Yet they all embrace something that unsettles the American sensibility, a necessary and positive relationship between risk and play. Staffed by adults trained in “playwork,” adventure playgrounds have been described as, “a complete artwork. A space and time where all one’s senses are engaged.”

I began reaching out to people in the “play” world, and soon began to hear about a new playground called The Land, in North Wales. The Land was breathing new life into some of the movement’s oldest “junk” philosophies. So, I booked a short visit to see it for myself and was kindly welcomed by the staff and children in November 2012.

I remember walking onto The Land for the first time and feeling dwarfed by color and chaos and scale — a shining marble here, a towering tree there! I spent a few days taking photos and filming, returned to the US itching for a proper documentary shoot.

Thanks to the support of about 150 generous Kickstarter backers (you know who you are!) I returned to The Land in April 2013 for three weeks to shoot a film, which I’m now editing.

(Teaser for Erin’s new film about The Land.)

Audio for the Transom piece was recorded during the two visits. The title comes from the expression, “kith and kin.” In its original meaning, “kith” refers to one’s home country, the bit of earth where we build our homes, grow our food and raise our children — our Land.

Interview with Dave the playworker, film still

Challenges

Making a radio story out of film material

I had to decide early on how to handle interviews, knowing I would be producing both a radio piece and a short film. As an experiment, I did do one audio-only interview in a good quiet space and it sounds terrific. But I don’t have that shot to cut to, which is a disadvantage. If I had to do it again, I would have stuck with the field setup, simply for consistency in the edit. However, it was definitely a tough call and I’d love to speak with other producers creating multi-format work and how they approach this.

Fun Fact – GoPro Audio

Most of Paige’s audio is from a GoPro headcam she’s wearing. I certainly did not plan to use the GoPro for audio recording, just thought it would be fun to see the kid’s POV. So I nearly fell out of my chair when I pulled it up weeks later and heard Paige narrating her own private adventure through the space.

The GoPro comes with 2 “backs”, one waterproof and one that is “open”. This setup utilized the “open” back. The waterproof/closed back significantly muffles the audio.

“Of Kith and Kids” on PRX

About “Of Kith and Kids”

It started with a pledge to my local public radio station… yes!

As a sustaining member of WNYC I receive a New Yorker subscription and read the piece: State Of Play: How Tot Lots Became Places to Build Children’s Brains by Rebecca Mead. The article covers the 2010 opening of a high profile playspace in Manhattan called the Imagination Playground. The writer likened it to something much grittier, darker and, well, European: something called an adventure playground. Intrigued, I did a little Googling, read a little more and quite simply fell down the rabbit hole.

Turns out, adventure playgrounds have quietly flourished since the second World War in the UK, Denmark and Germany. They’re usually tucked into neighborhoods without much fanfare and take many forms, from chaotic junkyards to whimsical shantytowns. Yet they all embrace something that unsettles the American sensibility, a necessary and positive relationship between risk and play. Staffed by adults trained in “playwork,” adventure playgrounds have been described as, “a complete artwork. A space and time where all one’s senses are engaged.”

I began reaching out to people in the “play” world, and soon began to hear about a new playground called The Land, in North Wales. The Land was breathing new life into some of the movement’s oldest “junk” philosophies. So, I booked a short visit to see it for myself and was kindly welcomed by the staff and children in November 2012.

I remember walking onto The Land for the first time and feeling dwarfed by color and chaos and scale — a shining marble here, a towering tree there! I spent a few days taking photos and filming, returned to the US itching for a proper documentary shoot.

Thanks to the support of about 150 generous Kickstarter backers (you know who you are!) I returned to The Land in April 2013 for three weeks to shoot a film, which I’m now editing.

(Teaser for Erin’s new film about The Land.)

Audio for the Transom piece was recorded during the two visits. The title comes from the expression, “kith and kin.” In its original meaning, “kith” refers to one’s home country, the bit of earth where we build our homes, grow our food and raise our children — our Land.

Interview with Dave the playworker, film still

Challenges

Making a radio story out of film material

I had to decide early on how to handle interviews, knowing I would be producing both a radio piece and a short film. As an experiment, I did do one audio-only interview in a good quiet space and it sounds terrific. But I don’t have that shot to cut to, which is a disadvantage. If I had to do it again, I would have stuck with the field setup, simply for consistency in the edit. However, it was definitely a tough call and I’d love to speak with other producers creating multi-format work and how they approach this.

Fun Fact – GoPro Audio

Most of Paige’s audio is from a GoPro headcam she’s wearing. I certainly did not plan to use the GoPro for audio recording, just thought it would be fun to see the kid’s POV. So I nearly fell out of my chair when I pulled it up weeks later and heard Paige narrating her own private adventure through the space.

The GoPro comes with 2 “backs”, one waterproof and one that is “open”. This setup utilized the “open” back. The waterproof/closed back significantly muffles the...

“Diary of a Bad Year: A War Correspondent’s Dilemma” on PRX

About Diary of a Bad Year: A War Correspondent’s Dilemma

This project was born in the place where so many good ideas come to life — Woods Hole. I was visiting Jay and the Transom Story Workshop to talk about making radio.

Like good reporters, Jay and Melissa Allison, Viki Merrick, Samantha Broun, Sydney Lewis, and Rob Rosenthal asked me a lot of tough questions. As I answered, I realized the tables had been turned on me, that by confronting me with the curiosity I usually apply to the people I interview, they were getting me to say and realize things I didn’t even know were true.

I had deep concerns about my job, but I never would have examined them this fully had it not been for the welcoming, open, supportive, loving hearts in Woods Hole — and, later, for conversations I had with my dear friend, the great radio producer, Sean Cole. At one point I remember writing an email to Jay that said something like, “If I really go through with this project, I will end up quitting my job.”

We’ll see about that. What I do know is that making this story has totally altered the way I look at what I and most of my friends do for a living. It has made me more aware and ultimately more safe in the field. It was hard, it was personal, but I think it was worth it.

What I learned

One of the biggest lessons for me was that it’s all about perspective. It’s one thing to talk about this stuff casually with friends (and with yourself), but it’s another thing to really dig deep and try to prosecute the ideas, especially when it’s your own life that’s on the stand. Doing this kind of work is hard, and it takes time.

When Jay and I started this back in 2011, he suggested I record diaries as I went along. No expectations — just record what comes to mind as it’s happening. It sounds easy, but for me it was hard.

Just that simple act of stepping back, removing myself from the moment, was a struggle. Some of the diaries were unusable, mainly because I wasn’t able to step back far enough, or because they were just too sad.

Here’s diary I recorded at like 3:00 a.m., in Yemen, the week that Anthony Shadid (the award-winning journalist for the The New York Times) died. I had just heard that another member of the tribe, Marie Colvin (the award-winning journalist for the British paper The Sunday Times), died.

Listening back to this clip, it’s clear I didn’t have much perspective. I talk about how I’m NOT a war correspondent like Marie and others, and yet only a few months later, I was basically embedded with Syrian rebels. Months after that I was at the front line.

Also, I talk about how Marie’s stories had some bearing on the international community’s policy in Syria, clearly because that’s what I wanted to believe. It’s only now that I can painfully admit her stories had little impact. The killing in Homs, the place where she was reporting when she died, continued after her death. More than one year later, it continues today.

Still, keeping a diary was really, really cool. So cool that I still do it, as a matter of course. One great help is that I can do it on my iPhone. I just tap Hindenburg and start talking. That way if I’m in public, I don’t look like a crazy cat lady — I look like I’m talking on the phone.

At the risk of repeating myself, I have to say that I think the key here was knowing that someone would be *listening* to these diaries, that someone actually cared to know what I had to say.

“Diary of a Bad Year: A War Correspondent’s Dilemma” on PRX

About Diary of a Bad Year: A War Correspondent’s Dilemma

This project was born in the place where so many good ideas come to life — Woods Hole. I was visiting Jay and the Transom Story Workshop to talk about making radio.

Like good reporters, Jay and Melissa Allison, Viki Merrick, Samantha Broun, Sydney Lewis, and Rob Rosenthal asked me a lot of tough questions. As I answered, I realized the tables had been turned on me, that by confronting me with the curiosity I usually apply to the people I interview, they were getting me to say and realize things I didn’t even know were true.

I had deep concerns about my job, but I never would have examined them this fully had it not been for the welcoming, open, supportive, loving hearts in Woods Hole — and, later, for conversations I had with my dear friend, the great radio producer, Sean Cole. At one point I remember writing an email to Jay that said something like, “If I really go through with this project, I will end up quitting my job.”

We’ll see about that. What I do know is that making this story has totally altered the way I look at what I and most of my friends do for a living. It has made me more aware and ultimately more safe in the field. It was hard, it was personal, but I think it was worth it.

What I learned

One of the biggest lessons for me was that it’s all about perspective. It’s one thing to talk about this stuff casually with friends (and with yourself), but it’s another thing to really dig deep and try to prosecute the ideas, especially when it’s your own life that’s on the stand. Doing this kind of work is hard, and it takes time.

When Jay and I started this back in 2011, he suggested I record diaries as I went along. No expectations — just record what comes to mind as it’s happening. It sounds easy, but for me it was hard.

Just that simple act of stepping back, removing myself from the moment, was a struggle. Some of the diaries were unusable, mainly because I wasn’t able to step back far enough, or because they were just too sad.

Here’s diary I recorded at like 3:00 a.m., in Yemen, the week that Anthony Shadid (the award-winning journalist for the The New York Times) died. I had just heard that another member of the tribe, Marie Colvin (the award-winning journalist for the British paper The Sunday Times), died.

Listening back to this clip, it’s clear I didn’t have much perspective. I talk about how I’m NOT a war correspondent like Marie and others, and yet only a few months later, I was basically embedded with Syrian rebels. Months after that I was at the front line.

Also, I talk about how Marie’s stories had some bearing on the international community’s policy in Syria, clearly because that’s what I wanted to believe. It’s only now that I can painfully admit her stories had little impact. The killing in Homs, the place where she was reporting when she died, continued after her death. More than one year later, it continues today.

Still, keeping a diary was really, really cool. So cool that I still do it, as a matter of course. One great help is that I can do it on my iPhone. I just tap Hindenburg and start talking. That way if I’m in public, I don’t look like a crazy cat lady — I look like I’m talking on the phone.

At the risk of repeating myself, I have to say that I think the key here was knowing that someone would be *listening* to these diaries, that someone actually cared to know what I had to say.

“Walking Across America: Advice for a Young Man” on PRX

People in the Piece (in order of appearance)

“I don’t know why he’s doing it. He’s just crazy, I think.”

Bill Guy, Shady Grove, Alabama.

“Like it or not, it is about breaking this hold that death has on us.”

Therese Jornlin, Andrew’s mom, Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania.

“You’ll know who you are. Because that’s what you’re looking for anyway.”

Woody Curry, Baltimore, Maryland.

“You’ve got a lot to learn. You’ve got an education and a degree, but you’ve still got a lot to learn.”

Nettie Harlow, Arrington, Virginia.

“My love will be with you…”

Paul, Brightwood, Virginia.

“I wouldn’t be the nice little southern girl. I’d be a bitch.”

Hacky Pitts (not shown), High Point, North Carolina.

“Did you know that ice sings? Ice sings. It has a song and a voice.”

Marian (and Herb) Furman, Camden, Alabama.

“Alright, y’all wanna do ‘Johnny Peut-Pas Danser?’”

Mitch and Jen Reed (not shown), Scott, Louisiana.

“You’ll see. You’ll see. You will see.”

Frances and Vincent Bosarge, Coden, Alabama.

“After you done walked this whole way…at the end, it’s going to make you a different person.”

Ollie Ware, Franklin, Louisiana.

“If you care about someone, tell them.”

Karie Fugett (on right), Foley, Alabama.

“They call me Banjo Bill….”

Banjo Bill, Washington, DC.

“I’m looking for a great day, when I see my Jesus face to face.”

The late Emma Lou Dailey, Beatrice, Alabama.

“Everyone has something divine to share.

“Walking Across America: Advice for a Young Man” on PRX

People in the Piece (in order of appearance)

“I don’t know why he’s doing it. He’s just crazy, I think.”

Bill Guy, Shady Grove, Alabama.

“Like it or not, it is about breaking this hold that death has on us.”

Therese Jornlin, Andrew’s mom, Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania.

“You’ll know who you are. Because that’s what you’re looking for anyway.”

Woody Curry, Baltimore, Maryland.

“You’ve got a lot to learn. You’ve got an education and a degree, but you’ve still got a lot to learn.”

Nettie Harlow, Arrington, Virginia.

“My love will be with you…”

Paul, Brightwood, Virginia.

“I wouldn’t be the nice little southern girl. I’d be a bitch.”

Hacky Pitts (not shown), High Point, North Carolina.

“Did you know that ice sings? Ice sings. It has a song and a voice.”

Marian (and Herb) Furman, Camden, Alabama.

“Alright, y’all wanna do ‘Johnny Peut-Pas Danser?’”

Mitch and Jen Reed (not shown), Scott, Louisiana.

“You’ll see. You’ll see. You will see.”

Frances and Vincent Bosarge, Coden, Alabama.

“After you done walked this whole way…at the end, it’s going to make you a different person.”

Ollie Ware, Franklin, Louisiana.

“If you care about someone, tell them.”

Karie Fugett (on right), Foley, Alabama.

“They call me Banjo Bill….”

Banjo Bill, Washington, DC.

“I’m looking for a great day, when I see my Jesus face to face.”

The late Emma Lou Dailey, Beatrice, Alabama.