James Strecker Reviews the Arts

JAMES STRECKER: If you were asked for 50 words for an encyclopedia to summarize what you do, or have done, in the arts, what would you say?

CHRISTOPHER DARTON: Artistically I’ve done everything from drawing to painting; singing in a band to photography; writing screenplays and poetry to making films. I’ve come to realize the importance of sharing my capacity for telling stories through film … I strive to enlighten, entertain and preserve through my work. My grandmother was always entertaining me and telling stories of the North. Of life in the bush … hunting, trapping and surviving. I think I was bit by the bug and saw it as an opportunity to keep the stories and traditions alive. I see that in my work still … just passing on stories so that generations to come can still learn from the past.

JS: What important beliefs do you express in or through your work?

CD: I’ve gravitated towards music in Canada with my work. I firmly believe in our history in music and film in this country and that even though it’s not as rich and lengthy as that in the States it’s equally important to us as Canadians. So, I’ve become a big advocate for those who treaded these same waters before me who helped bring the music … for example the blues to Canada. We didn’t have a Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters or a Howling Wolf in Canada but we did have a Richard Newell (aka King Biscuit Boy). And we still have a Donnie Walsh, Morgan Davis, Michael Pickett and Danny Brooks who brought that great American music onto our soils and taught us about the rich tradition of the blues and continue to do so. Out entertainment industry is a babe in the woods or it certainly was when I was a kid. So, I hold these musicians in high regard for sharing their passion and love of the music and making it accessible for all of us.

JS: Name two people, living or dead, whom you admire a great deal and tell us why for each one.

CD: I think we borrow or steal from everyone and in that regard, I admire everyone and anyone out there “doing it.” Making a living or trying to make a living in the arts. I guess if I had to name two people writer/musician Jim Carroll would be one. As a young dude at Sheridan College I read everything I could lay my hands on that he had written. His flair for the written word with regards to his poetry, prose and song writing really opened my eyes to the possibilities of marrying poetry with writing music. I’ll go with a filmmaker for my second choice … there’s many but I’ll go with David Cronenberg. He’s Canadian and that meant a lot to a kid from a small town that loved film … especially horror films. His work was intelligent, meaningful and it had an edge. His roots were low budget … which appealed to my blue-collar sensibilities and he build himself up to name in the industry from those humble beginnings … and I like that. My uncle owned one of the first Betamax players on the market … way before anyone I knew knew what a home video player was. He used to order stuff like The Brood and Scanners by Cronenberg from BC so I could see them because there were no video stores around my town. I was 17 when my dad and I went to see The Dead Zone at the Seneca Movie Theatre in Niagara Falls. It left a considerable imprint on me. More than ever I wanted to go out and make films.

JS: How have you changed since you began to do creative work?

CD: I’ve learned how to become competent in all facets of my business of filmmaking because at the end of the day it is just that a business. I was willy-nilly as a young man. Unfocused. I didn’t know how to market myself or handle the business end of the industry. I could write and that was it. I became dangerous when I realized that it was going to be me and me alone that makes this thing happen. So, I had to learn how to connect with others in the industry. I had to learn how to get a film into a festival. Speak to an audience. Budget. Network. Really, I had to learn how to run my life as a business. Waiting around for it to happen was the tantamount of a death sentence. I had to make it happen myself. I always thought I was good enough … so someone will eventually come to me, knock on my door and make it happen. I would have still been waiting and ultimately that opportunity probably would have never came. I think this is affliction of many young filmmakers and writers.

JS: What are your biggest challenges as a creative person?

CD: My biggest hurdles are always the same really these days … time and money. Time to create is a challenge when you help manage a household. Work a full-time job. And really everything else that comes with life. It seems that creative part of us sometimes takes a backseat. Sometimes it becomes totally buried. I’m fortunate … I have an amazing support system in my wife Katherine who always champions everything I do. With that I’m able to find a greater balance in which I can write and make films. Of course, there’s money. Money always makes things a little easier; it doesn’t always make it better though. I revel in my ability to work around money and make projects happen without it. The film industry uses the cash hose to wash away all its roadblocks … I work with them, over them, around them and usually my projects are always better for it. My partner on my newest documentary, Rhonda Bruce said to me one day … “it would be nice if we could come up with some money for this project.” I said … “yes it would be but regardless the train has already left the station and it will get made with or without the money.” I’ve got it down to an art form making films on a low or no budget and making them happen. It’s very guerilla really … it’s not glamorous … it’s roll-up your sleeves and get dirty at times but it’s effective and that’s what gets films made.

JS: Please describe at least one major turning point in your life.

CD: In my mid-30’s I had a heart attack and more or less carried on with life as it was without much change. At 38 I found out I was diabetic and still really didn’t make any changes my life. I believe when you’re that young you always feel you have time … plenty of time. When I reached my mid-40’s I became scared. Scared that ten more years had passed and the creative stuff hadn’t happened the way I wanted to. I finally heard the clock ticking. I was writing but I was spinning my wheels. No major success. No audience. No means really of getting my work out there. I had an epiphany of sorts. I sold my comic book collection, which was the only thing of value I had lying around. I bought a camera, a mic, a couple of lights and I decided I would shoot a documentary. I chose documentary because I felt as though it was something within my means. Something I could pull off on a small amount of money with connections I had in the music business. I knew musician Danny Brooks and he introduced me to Gary Kendall (Downchild) and it went from there. I immediately gravitated towards blues in Canada because of those connections. My first film was supposed to be a documentary on King Biscuit Boy Richard Newell. It didn’t happen but the year of legwork I did on it opened the doors to my first film The Way We Was: The Story of the Kendall Wall Band and all projects after that really.

JS: What are the hardest things for an outsider to understand about what you do?

CD: I don’t think a lot of people understand the need we feel as creative people. The burn. That thing in our gut that says we need to create. I’ve had countless people say to me when one project is done, because it wasn’t a big financial success or because I’m still working shift work in a factory … “so … what next?” I always answer the same thing … on with the next project because it’s what I do. We finish one thing and we all know damn well the next one, two or three projects is rolling around in our head already. We need to get these things out or we’re damned really. To die with a headful of ideas and nothing substantial to show for it is to be condemned for sure.

JS: How and why did you begin to do creative work in the first place?

CD: I was creative very young … 5 or 6 I would imagine. I was an only child. Quiet for the most part. I loved comic books. And I would draw. I could amuse myself for hours reading and drawing. My family was very blue collar. My dad worked on the CNR as an engineer and my mom was a housewife and worked part-time here and there. And here was this weird little nerd in the house … playing with GI Joe’s … reading comics constantly and drawing. My imagination was fertile to say the least. It must have been a bit of a culture shock to my parents but they embraced it and went with it and really encouraged anything I did creatively. I was fortunate in that respect. AND … this is a big and … my best friend loved comics and was an artist as well. As a matter of fact, he went on to become one of the best around my area in the arts. We were always among the best in school but the reality of it was no one could touch his ability to draw and paint. The two of us shared a love of fantasy … not only comics but Famous Monsters magazines … Fangoria … Kung Fu movies. Loved it all. And we were fortunate enough to have a drive-in movie theatre in our home town … The Mustang Drive-In. So as a kid I went to see everything from Disney films to Bruce Lee movies.

JS: What haven’t you attempted as yet that you would like to do and please tell us why?

CD: I’ve writing a few songs or at least toyed with lyrics … but I’ve never seen anything I’ve written through to the end product of a finished recorded song on a CD. That and I’ve never written a novel but I plan on it. I think once the film stuff cools down in a few years I’ll write a book. Why? Well because I haven’t done it. No other reason. Money means very little to me … accolades even less. I’ve never done it … I love to read so by process of elimination I’d like to write a book. I have a real strong burning desire to show my sons that this stuff can be done. That if you want to do it … than you can make it happen. Eventually one day I’ll be gone and maybe I won’t be able to leave much to my loved ones financially but if I leave a body of work that’s even more important because it’s forever. I want my sons’ to be able to look at their wives or children one day and say … “my dad never made much money … he struggled as a matter of fact but boy show me someone else who wrote articles, made films, took photos, wrote books etc.” I think that speaks volumes on intestinal fortitude. It speaks volumes on heart, drive and desire. And to me all those things are more important than anything else.

JS: What are your most meaningful achievements?

CD: I wanted to make my first feature at 18 it finally happened at 48. To screen that film in an auditorium with my wife, my mother and my sons sitting in the audience was probably the biggest moment of my creative life. Those people heard me talk film … talk writing … talk music my entire life … and how would anyone know if it would ever happen or not?!? Because for a lot of people it never does happen. It must have meant a lot to my long-suffering mom to look up for 72 minutes and watch a film I made after a lifetime of talk smack about a film career. A film I wrote, directed, produced, edited and shot. And my wife who stood by me for a year and half while I made the film … all the hills and valleys that go with such a monumental task of making something so big. My sons Tobe, Sasha and Elijah, who I paved a creative path in their lives. One that led them to Sheridan College like me … in film and photography. For them to finally see I did it. It was gargantuan. And then I realized that it was bigger than I ever suspected really because what it did was … it proved I was a filmmaker and that parlayed into my next film and my next. So, I was finally doing it … I not only proved it my friends and family but to myself.

JS: What advice would you give a young person who would like to do what you do?

CD: Just do it. Don’t let money. Family. Friends. Don’t let anything stand in your way. And make yourself a threat by learning all facets of your business and art because you’ll need it at some point. I’m a huge advocate of college or university. I think you need to learn it all … become well-rounded so that you can eventually forget it all and do your own thing. But then those teachings … that base is ingrained in you to fall back on. As a student in college I was an enormous John Waters fan. I had the good fortune of meeting John in Toronto while he toured through for his book Crackpot. A couple of months after we met he sent me a postcard in the mail … in was a coffin and on the back it said “just become obsessed and get out and raise the money. Hijack your school’s equipment, meet rich people and nice to any rich relatives … just MAKE it happen.” He may have written the same words to 500 hundred other people but it didn’t matter … I got it and it spoke to me. I think we ultimately fall back on the way we were raised and/or the way we first learned to do what we do. As I mentioned … I grew up very blue collar. I understood the meaning of a dollar and I knew about tough times and poverty. My grandmother who I was extremely close with was native … she lived in the North in subzero temperatures without electricity or indoor plumbing. That knowledge and that part of my upbringing geared me towards a more working man’s approach to low budget cinema. These filmmakers … out of the Roger Corman school of the 60’s and early 70’s were my idols. To this day I often say … if someone gave me $100,000 to make a film I would probably lean towards using that money to make ten films.

JS: Of what value are critics?

CD: It’s always nice to have an audience whether it’s an old friend, a relative, stranger, fan or critic. When I saw the first write up on my first film it was a huge buzz. For me … just knowing somebody, somewhere has taken the time and found one of my films and watched it means the world to me. I was in London a year and half ago at a David Wilcox show, I was interviewing him the next morning and was there as his guest. I started chatting with a couple of sound techs and mentioned my film and they had both seen it. A few minutes later they sent another tech over who also had seen my film. It was a tremendous compliment for me. I was in Kincardine doing some shooting for my second documentary feature and someone approached me while I standing there post show with my cousin Travis. He said he had seen my film three times and absolutely loved it. He walked away and my cousin looked at me and said “holy shit you’ve got fans!” This is why we do these things like make films. So that other people will see them. There’s a whole enormous group of creators out there who don’t have an audience and maybe some that never will … I know … I was in that boat. So that somebody, even one person 400 miles from where I live tells me they’ve seen my work … well that’s just a great honour. And … of course how do we learn without people’s criticisms? How do we move forward and get better without listens to opinions?

JS: What do you ask of your audience?

CD: I don’t ask much … really only to give me a bit of their valuable time. And in return I’m making that promise to entertain them or enlighten them. And hopefully never ever bore them. That’s a big part of it. When I was editing The Way We Was I made a very consciences effort in the back of my mind to make that story move … to hold the audience’ attention and make sure they walked away entertained. Sometimes it’s that simple. I’m not making films that test an audience. My stories thus far aren’t world shaking, deep subject matters … it doesn’t make them any less important but my work has its place in a historical sense. I make films that often aren’t out front as something other film makers are jumping out to document, they’re little stories about people and places that I feel garner archiving so people years to come will be able to relive those moments, people, places etc.

JS: What specifically would you change about what goes on in the world and the arts?

CD: At once I could say there’s a lot of changes I would like to see with regards to the light in which the artist is shined. It would make it nicer to have the tools, the money, audience and the esteem they deserve. In another breath, I wouldn’t change anything because here I am at 51 years old making films, shooting music videos, writing and taking photos etc. with nothing really in my way but me. I could live in some subversive society where we’re hand-cuffed and unable to create … but I’m not … so I don’t complain. Would it be nice to get in on the grant train? Absolutely. My life would be a lot easier if I knew all the secrets and held the key to tapping into some funding for my work. But as I said earlier … I’ve figured out how to do what I do with very little money and would never let a lack of it stand in my way.

JS: If you could relive one experience from your creative life, what would it be and why would you do so?

CD: I try not to really think much of the past. I dwelled there for way too long and found it really damaging and unhealthy. So really for me anything and everything I’ve had a hand in on whether it be writing the liner notes to Danny Brooks Texassippi Soul Man album, producing a Bobnoxious music video Halloween Baby or shooting an interview with Gordie Johnson (Big Sugar) or Donnie Walsh (Downchild) … it’s all positive. I keep it all locked away somewhere in the mental bank, I just chose not to let it the good or the bad get the best of me. As long as we’re moving forward we’re going in a positive direction.

JS: Tell us what it feels like to be a figure who is presented somehow in the media. What effect does this presence have on you?

CD: It makes what I do relevant. Not just to me … because it’s always meaningful to me personally but to know it’s out there and other people are seeing it or hearing about it or reading a newspaper article on what I’ve got on the burner … whatever … it says that I’m a filmmaker and that’s critical. I think it was filmmaker Robert Rodriguez who said … you want to be a filmmaker? Then tell people you’re a filmmaker. Get business cards made that say on them … filmmaker. And now you’re a filmmaker. It’s simple but it speaks volumes of the power of self. I live in a small town in Southern Ontario … I’m not well known by any means. But I walk into a supermarket and people who have seen a newspaper article on me ask how the new film is going. People at the garage where I get my car repaired say … I heard you’re shooting a new film! I go to have a bite to eat at my favourite place for wings and pizza and people say to me … I heard you interviewed such and such … or I heard you’re producing a new horror film. I walk into a Tim Hortons and the girls that work there laugh and say … you’re famous! I’m not but it goes a long way towards a certain feeling of self-esteem that indeed after all these years I am out there hacking away at it and still trying to make IT happen. I always tell people … I’m a guy who’s out there taking his hacks at the plate instead of someone sitting in the dugout talking about all the should-have-beens and could-haves. That’s it in a nutshell … I’m out there doing it.

JS: Name two places you would like to visit, one you haven’t been to and one to experience again and briefly tell us why.

CD: I haven’t travelled much really so this is difficult. Last year was a big one … I went to Jamaica to get married in October. Halloween to be exact … I got back after two weeks and four days later I flew to Texas to shoot footage for my second film Hard Working Man: The Music and Miracles of Danny Brooks. These were the second and third time I had ever been on a plane and I was 51 years old. I guess I’d like to go to New York … to see a Yankees home game just once. I’ve been a fan since I was 8. Maybe New Orleans … because of their considerable music scene and of course the food. And of course, I would like to return to Texas especially Austin and/or the legendary Gruene Hall in New Braunfels to premiere the film I shot some of there. That would be very nice and cathartic … bringing that project full circle.

JS: Please tell us about one or more projects that you have been working on, are preparing, or have recently completed. Why do they matter to you and why should they matter to us.

CD: I’m busier right now by ten times than I have been in my entire life with film work. Right now, at the writing of this interview I’m editing my second feature film … Hard Working Man: The Music and Miracles of Danny Brooks. It’s a documentary on the life of musician Danny Brooks … a Johnny Cash like figure from the Toronto area who moved to Texas approximately six years ago to continue his career and really become a road-warrior playing all over North America. Danny’s story is an important one because it’s the ultimate story of rising above it all … addictions, jail, health issues … to do what we were put on earth to do. It’s about survival. The road. The music. You name it. As well … I’m shooting my third … This Is Paradise: The Cameron House Story. A documentary on then legendary venue on Queen Street west called by some the Canadian Chelsea Hotel and CBGB’s because in the 80’s it became an artist residence as well as stage to some of the biggest names in Canadian music and the arts: Molly Johnson, Ron Sexsmith, Gordie Johnson, Jane Siberry to name a few. Both are important because these are our stories as Canadians. If music is meaningful to you … if the arts are meaningful to you … than these stories should strike a chord. On a daily basis places like the Cameron House are dying in Toronto. In the last couple of years, we’ve lost The El Mocambo and The Silver Dollar joining places like The Bamboo, Larry’s Hideaway or years ago blues haunts like The Colonial Tavern and The Albert’s Hall. People have fond memories of their days hanging out in these places watching live music … so if I can keep some of those memories alive … job done. As well as those projects, I act as a Producer for Skeleton Crew Entertainment … a small group of filmmakers based mostly out of the Niagara region. Frank Popp Jr. directs our projects, Scott Patterson does the make-up FX and Justin Peeler shoots them. We just shot our second film this summer, a horror short titled 37% Pure Evil. It looks as though it may premiere at Frightmare in the Falls this November … billed as the biggest horror expo in North America. On top of all that I’ve got a music video I’m shooting next week and another in September. I’m making up for a lot of lost time … so I work constantly.

JS: Let’s talk about the state of the arts in today’s society, including the forms in which you work. What specifically gives you hope and what specifically do you find depressing?

CD: There’s always going to work to produce. Films to make. Songs to sing. Poems and books to write. As well … there’s always going to wealth of subjects and events in the world to base our work on. It’s a fruitful time for film work. There’s more films being made than ever. People seem to have figured it all out … how to produce on a budget and get it made. The equipment is cheaper and better than ever. If you want to outfit yourself as a ministudio … you can. That’s basically what I’ve done. I’ve turned myself into a one-man band. I own all my own equipment, camera, lights, audio recording devices, microphones … you name it. I edit all my own material right at home. It’s no secret … it’s just a matter of deciding to do it, that this is what works for me and is going to assist me in making films. That 23-year-old who gets out of school and says he’s a director is in for a lifetime of disappointments. That 23 year that gets out of school and says he or she is a filmmaker and willing to take on, learn and perform all facets of the filmmaking experience is dangerous. The dangerous ones survive and if they want it bad enough they will make it somehow … some way. For all the opportunities out there and the fact that we live in a time where people can shoot an entire 90 film on their cell phone it’s unfortunately at times … kind of that American Idol syndrome. That’s where young people want it immediately and really don’t put in the ten thousand hours need to hone their craft. Nothing bothers me more than watching a show like The Voice and seeing a 20-year singer saying … I have to make it, this is my last chance. When I was 20 I was a lunatic roaming the halls of Sheridan College writing … directing … acting … singing … you name it. Last chance?!? Seriously … this is more of an American way of thinking; that we need it all right away and are entitled to. Wrongheaded thinking and ultimately unhealthy.

JS: Finally, what do you yourself find to be the most intriguing and/or surprising thing about you?

CD: I’ve grown extremely resilient. I’m the poster child for following your dream and not giving up. I would never have thought it. I didn’t plan it out that way. I guess plain and simply the fire inside kept burning at the worst of times and I was fortunate enough to make opportunity … to see an opening … a way … a chance … whatever … and I jumped in and came to the realization that this was for me to make happen or not. I suppose I took charge of my own destiny. Something we all need to do but often aren’t afforded the opportunity. I guess I also surprised myself in that my instincts were very good. I trained in film when we were cutting 16mm film. I finally edited my first feature in the digital age. That’s an enormous gap. That said … I always thought I knew film. I never lost the art form I only needed to update my technical skills. I watched a lot of film … studied always trying to educate myself waiting my chance. When I finally went to do it … I proved to myself it all wasn’t a waste of time, I had actually learned something from everything I ever watched. I said to someone recently that making a film by yourself is the equivalent of being dropped in an empty lot with a hammer, some wood and a bag of nails and being told to build a house. Somehow … some way … along the road I’ve figured out how to get it done.