REEL NY - Season Four wnetstation
  Home : Compañera : ALISON SWAN  
 
Alison Swan Alison Swan made her first film as an undergraduate student. Her documentary SOLIDARITY FOREVER follows the joys and struggles of a union family during a paper mill strike in Maine. After graduating, she went to work at Thirteen/WNET in New York for producer John Heminway on the series TRAVELS. Later she worked for producer Robert Stigwood (GREASE, SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER) on EVITA, and was subsequently appointed Vice President of Development for his production company, RSO Films in Los Angeles. While there, she wrote a television movie, VISIONS OF FREEDOM, for producer Wesley Burford, a fictional account of the historical all-black battalion that was decorated for valor during the Civil War. As a student at New York University working toward her Master's of Fine Arts degree, she won the Spike Lee Fellowship. Other projects include writing and directing THE CATHEDRAL APPEAL, a fund-raising documentary commissioned by the Anglican Cathedral in Bermuda. She has also worked on numerous advertising campaigns. She has just completed her first feature film, MIXING NIA.

Questionnaires were sent to each artist participating in REEL NEW YORK -- Season Four. Below are the artist's written responses.

    Alison Swan  
reel  Compañera
 
What inspired you to make this piece?

I want to explore the complex relationship between a guard and a prisoner.

Companera
 From COMPAÑERA.
Tell us a little about the process involved in making this work.

It started off as a story set in Latin America about a male guard and a female political prisoner. Then I got scared about falling into traps of Latin stereotypes, and since I don't speak any Spanish that was that. So I decided to do something about an American political prisoner not really knowing if there were any, but then finding that there are 300 in prison at this time.

I was mesmerized by Assata Shakur, the former Black Panther and member of the Black Liberation Army, after reading her autobiography, and decided to base the character on her. I also interviewed Pat Levasseur, who was a member of the Ohio Seven. Both women were imprisoned because of their political activities and charged for crimes ranging from murder to armed robbery. I continued to explore the characters and shape the story during a two-month intense rehearsal period with the actors. So in some sense, I collaborated with the actors in creating the story. I would re-write after rehearsals; however, by the time we got to shooting, the story was pretty much engraved in stone.

Companera
 From COMPAÑERA.
Do you have any interesting and/or amusing behind-the-scenes stories about the making of this particular work?

It was pretty hellish. The movie was shot in three different locations. The exterior of the prison was shot in Fishkill, New York. The interior cell was shot on a soundstage. The exterior cell was shot in an abandoned precinct in the Bushwick section of Brooklyn. We shot the film in the winter of '93; crime was rampant. There had been over 300 murders in that precinct the year before. It was like the Wild West. I wanted to spend as much money in the neighborhood as possible. We had the neigborhood Dominican diner do the catering. We paid the hairdressing place next door to use their electricity. We bought everything else we needed from a bodega run by a guy who seemed to command respect from everybody. The other goal was to make everybody who was not financially benefitting from our being there feel comfortable about having us around. Things started off badly when people thought I was Dominican and were offended that I didn't speak to them in Spanish. I'm from Bermuda, where English is spoken, but get mistaken for Dominican all the time. The actress who played the prison guard, Sandra Rodriguez, who is Puerto Rican, explained the situation to everybody and became our ambassador. There was also a fear that our presence would interfere with trade. Crack was king, and it seemed as though it was the local cottage industry. So I forewent police protection for me and my crew despite their protestations, although secretly I think they were happy to move on to bigger and better things. However, this made me and the crew vulnerable. The first incident was when I was almost attacked by a band of teenage boys. I was by myself, getting into the beat-up old production station wagon that I rented for $15 a day after having just done the craft service shopping. These guys in a car reversed, blocking in my car so my only way out was the sidewalk. As they got out of their car and started to circle my car, I somehow managed to power lock the doors. I leaned on the horn until they went away. The second was I had hired this guy Victor and his friends, who had all been Chilean ex-political prisoners, to help clear and clean up the police precinct which had been abandoned for 10 years and was derelict. It was used mainly at that time as a crackhouse or as place to get out of the elements. When we arrived, to prepare for the shoot the police had to flush out all the people. The building was condemned as soon as we finished shooting. Victor was telling me how the place was rat-infested and that they were very large. He could tell by their feces. Victor had been tortured with rats in Chile and knew all there was to know about rodents. I told him my biggest phobia was rats and I would die if I saw one. Anyway, the next day, my producer, Selina, and I returned by ourselves to finish painting. We had to padlock ourselves into the building with a huge piece of chain, because the building was so big there was no way we could hear anybody coming in. We had been working for about two hours when we heard a thud. Selina suggested that we take a look to see what was going on. When we finally got up the courage to do so, someone had placed freshly killed rats in front of all the places where we were shooting. Some one must of overheard my conversation with Victor and decided to send a message that we were not wanted. My efforts to keep the peace had not worked as well as I had hoped. Needless to say, we dropped our paint buckets and ran out of there. The next time we came back it was in the strength in numbers of the crew. Not that 15 people milling around prevented theft, but by the time we turned our backs for five seconds to find $800 of cable stolen, we were pretty seasoned. When I went to the police station to file a report for the insurance company, I felt pretty lucky sitting there with the victims of a long drawn out war. At least I could leave. The East Village seemed so nice and safe and cozy. The officer, whose help I had turned down before the shoot, told me I was lucky to be alive. Did I mention that it was 15 degrees while we were shooting? All we had for heat in this cavernous four-story building were two small space heaters. The actresses had to suck on ice just before a take so you couldn't see their breath.

Is there a relationship between your work as a video/filmmaker and life in the New York metropolitan area?

I truly consider myself a New York filmmaker even though I'm from Bermuda. I've made three shorts and a feature film here. I have a real love affair with New York. For me, New York does not just belong to America. It belongs to the world. It's an entity and a country unto itself. I hate to see the malling of New York that is happening right now. It is detracting from its uniqueness.

How has the burgeoning independent movement affected your life and work as a video/filmmaker?

I think the "independent film movement" is no longer burgeoning. I think it has arrived and been co-opted by the establishment. I've never felt part of the "independent film movement," but then again, I've always had distrust of movements.

reel
  Home : Compañera : ALISON SWAN reel

Festival Calendar | Screening Room | Artists Speak | About the Series | Feedback | Resources | Credits

Reel New York.Web

wNetStation