Symphony Of The Soil: Seeing Soil
http://tinyurl.com/pt4d6uf [amazon.com]
The Soil Underfoot: Infinite Possibilities For A Finite Resource
by G. Jock Churchman (Editor), Edward R. Landa (Editor)
Deborah Koons Garcia - Seeing Soil
Most people are soil blind. They walk on soil, they gaze at it on the horizon, they gain pleasure and sustenance from its bounty, but soil itself goes unseen, unappreciated. Modern life conspires to remove us from any connection to or awareness of soil. We spend a lot of time looking down, not at the soil, but at the various devices that connect us to our techno-fied world. Those of us who understand the importance of soil can bemoan the sad state of affairs as evidenced by the story of the schoolchild who visited a farm for the first time and, when presented with a carrot freshly pulled from the earth, proclaimed, "I'm not going to eat that—it's been in the ground!"
A few years ago, I decided the world was ready for a good film on soil, and I was the filmmaker to make it. I have to admit my bias was toward seeing soil as an agricultural medium. As I went through the 4-year process of researching, shooting, editing, and completing the film, I found that my attitude toward soil completely changed. At a certain stage, I did not want to have any agriculture in the film. I empathized with the attitude of some Native American tribes—why would I cut into my mother, the earth? The plow, I had learned, had caused more damage to this planet than the sword. I became protective of the soil and wanted to move away from the assumption that soil is a thing and we humans' primary concern should be what can we get out of it—what is in it for us. I wanted to support and encourage a healthier relationship with what I came to see as a miraculous substance and bring that awareness to a wide audience.
In preparing to make the film, I bought a bunch of alarmingly thick soil textbooks, some nonacademic books about soil, and befriended soil scientists. I love the research phase of filmmaking. At that point, anything and everything is possible. I absorbed massive amounts of information and my head filled up with many more interesting ideas than I could possibly fit into a 90-minute film. Watching a good film is primarily an emotional experience—we want movies to move us. Even if a movie is information heavy, we want that information to engage us, to affect our hearts and minds. I realized that distilling all I was learning into an audience-friendly piece would be a real challenge. How could I take soil, a medium that is dark and seemingly inert, and marry it to film, a medium that is all about movement and light? When I started shooting, I had my cameraman set up a shot focused on a patch of soil. I called out "Action!" He turned to me and said "There's nothing happening."
"Oh," I replied, "There is, there is! There's so much happening! How will we fit it all in!"
My task as a filmmaker was to allow, invite, encourage, fascinate, and seduce my audience into understanding and feeling a connection with soil.
Since film is essentially visual, I finally had to figure out exactly what was going to be up there on the screen. Ultimately, my work was to figure out how to see the soil. My vision expanded. I would see soil in many different ways, and by presenting this variety of points of view, the nature of soil in all its glory would be revealed. I realized that for me to hold a piece of soil in my hand and say this is soil would be like holding a drop of seawater in my hand and saying this is the ocean.
How to see soil: As an entity, as an organism, as an ecosystem, as a community, as a collection of cycling nutrients, as a place where billions of microorganisms thrive, as a plant-growing medium, as a living system. It's alive! We can see soil in time and in space. We see soil in close-up, medium, and long shot. Ultimately, I had let people to see soil in all these ways and more. Most importantly, I decided to present soil as a protagonist of our planetary story, and the protagonist of my film.
Since I am an experienced filmmaker with a classical bent, I decided to write the story of soil in three acts. Act 1: Soil itself, its multidimensional nature. Act 2: Soil in relationship, primarily in relationship with humans. Inevitably, that relationship must focus on agriculture. Act 3: Soil and big picture ideas such as soil and global warming, soil and water, soil and feeding the world, soil and metaphysics.
Having digested so much material and having debated with myself and my colleagues about what should be in the film, I came up with a wonderful title: Symphony of the Soil. The piece would be complex, made up of many different instruments and parts, creating a satisfying whole. Soil is a symphony of elements and processes, and my film would evoke that. This also allowed me to bring music into the mix.