A poetic travelogue on loneliness and American landscapes (rodeos, deserts, motels), “I Know What I Saw,” by director Gillian Waldo is stuffed with gorgeous 16mm images and a fresh cynicism about the country’s past and present. We asked Waldo how the project began, and how she achieved the look and tone of the film…

1) What’s the origin story on this project?

When I was an undergrad, I was really blessed to get this grant to pursue a research project and I became fascinated with the national parks after my sister and I took a Greyhound bus to the Badlands. I was doing academic research about the fraught history of how these parks came to be and I became increasingly aware of how much unspoken history is infused in these spaces and how sacred they are. 

I convinced the administration to let me buy a bunch of 16mm film stock and rent a car to drive across the country to visit several parks. Growing up on the East coast, I had never really experienced the majesty of these spaces, and I hope that reverence comes through in the long takes of landscapes. 

I kept a journal of all of the bizarre things that happened to us during that month going back and forth across the country and driving for long stretches of time gave me a lot of time to think about what I wished I could say to certain people in my life, so that became the basis for the text.

2) There’s a very soothing vibe here, quite at odds with the modern pace and volume level. You’re writing postcards, shooting on film, talking quietly. When did you discover you were drawn to these things? How do you see yourself fitting into the current times?

I'm a pretty shy person so using text in films really helps me articulate ideas that I can't always express in my daily life. I Iike the physicality of these materials, writing letters, loading film, carrying the SRII around while hiking up sand dunes or Zabriskie Point. The sheer weight of that camera reminds you that you can’t take things for granted. I find that grounding, the idea that nothing is disposable.

I know my pieces aren't video art or traditional narratives. They're quiet and involve a minimalist style, but I would like to carve out a space for them. I really admire the work of Deborah Stratman and Beatriz Santiago Muñoz, so I think there's a path there.

3) I usually don’t ask about technical stuff, but with your images, I’m really curious. Can you briefly talk about your camera, film, formatting, development?

For the majority of the project, I shot on KODAK VISION3 250D Color Negative film using an ARRI SRII and an Angenieux zoom lens. I also took a Bolex Reflex camera because I anticipated going on hikes where I couldn't physically carry the SRII and the tripod. I ended up sneaking the Bolex into the rodeo in a tote bag because no one was allowed to bring cameras in. I shot about 1900 feet all told. The stills are from disposable cameras I developed later.

4) Many of your images have this almost otherworldly look to them. How do you approach your compositions? Are their specific things you’re looking for, is it all instinctual?

I guess my approach is pretty instinctual because I don't have a lot of formal training.  I did a significant amount of preproduction research, but the shooting itself was pretty guerilla. The rodeo was challenging to shoot because it happened to be a very bright day, and we were sitting up in the stands and couldn’t get accurate light meter readings. I would frame up a shot, close the aperture, try to track the motion as best I could, and then crank the camera again every 30 seconds.

I knew I wanted the natural features of a given space to envelop the frame, and I think part of that is being patient and holding a shot, forcing a viewer to confront it. If I had twice as many cuts in the film, I think one would miss the the quality of light in the Pacific. I think one wouldn’t understand the holiness of Monument Valley or how overwhelming that particular shade of green is in Olympic National Park.

5) What’s next for you?

I'm trying to save up to make another short on 16mm about tornados or state fairs. If anyone knows of any midwestern grants, let me know!

Bonus question: What is a movie(s) you’ve seen recently, new or old, that really resonated with you? And why?

My Winnipeg really haunts me. Guy Madden deconstructs the memoir by weaving together staged scenes, Canadian archival footage, and surreal train sequences. Dates and names may be falsified but the emotional truth of Madden's depiction of his hometown comes through in seances, the Black Tuesdays hockey team, and those dark horse heads shrouded in snow.

Contact Info:

Email: waldo.gillian@gmail.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ghostgillianwaldo

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/baby.carhartt/