The three parter: experiences with the XH A1, an Israeli wedding and “no man’s land.”

XH A1

After filming with the XH A1 for a week now, we thought we could share a few things we have learned while using it. On a broad scale, the camera has worked great so far. But like any camera, it definitely has its positives and negatives.

The image quality so far has been outstanding. Using custom presets from the Dvinfo forums, we’ve been able to get great shots out of the camera, especially during the early morning and at sunset. The ergonomics of the camera are also excellent. All the buttons just seem to be in the right places. The exposure lock button is situated right next to the iris adjustment ring, so the two work seamlessly together. We mostly shoot in Tv mode and use exposure lock to adapt to different shooting situations, so we use the button and iris ring very often together. The combination provides for a precise control of exposure in tricky lighting environments.

While the ergonomics of the camera are a positive, the weight and balance of the camera aren’t so great. We knew that the camera was no handy-cam before we bought it, but it does weigh a lot, especially with a shotgun mic and wireless receiver attached to it. We’ve mostly been shooting run-n-gun, so the camera is usually handheld, resulting in lots of arm fatigue. The best way to combat the strain is by switching arm and hand positions often, which also results in a variety of camera angles, so it’s not all bad. After a few more weeks of shooting I’m sure our arms will be able to handle longer shoots.

The LCD on the camera is nice and bright and sharp, but it’s a little small. We don’t have any external monitor with us, so all of our focusing is done through the LCD. Using peaking helps, but we can never be 100% sure if our shots are crisp. They seem to be sharp, but we are still crossing our fingers! A bigger LCD would have been nice, but it is still a great screen. One essential item for the screen however is a Hoodman-300. The hood has saved our butts quite a few times in the bright Israeli sun. We would not have been able to see the screen without it, so it is a highly recommended accessory.

This is just an initial overview of our experience with the camera, and we will be sure to add more as we continue to shoot throughout the next two months.

An Israeli Wedding

Last night we went to a wedding outside of Qiryat Shemona. It was held in the evening at an old farm estate. The manicured grounds were filled with white couches and chairs, and the fig and olive trees were lit with blue and purple lights. Prior to the ceremony, guests feasted on hors devours of salad, brisket, gnocchi and chicken liver. The food was a treat from our mundane fare in the kibbutz. The ceremony was brief and officiated by a rabbi, as is required by the state of Israel. We threw rose petals at the bride and groom as they made their way towards the Hupa, where their family waited. Following the ceremony, guests proceeded to the courtyard to dine on Israeli salads and plates of grilled meats. A huge stage was set up beside the dinner tables, and guests danced all night under the stars.

As family members and friends toasted to the newly wed couple, the father in law began to make his way to the middle of the courtyard. We noticed that he was adjusting a pistol that was tucked in his pants. He proceeded to yell out something in Hebrew, cocked his gun and pointed it up to the sky. In a matter of seconds he unloaded an entire clip of bullets, and another man sitting at a table nearby followed suit with his own gun. We were startled, but hardly anyone else seemed to blink an eye. The shots were a nod to HaShomer, a Jewish defense organization started by socialist Zionists, mainly to protect kibbutzim at the beginning of the 20th century.

The father in law who fired the shots is an eighty year old kibbutznik who is well-respected, and is known to tell great stories. He has agreed to share his stories of the kibbutz, which has known since its inception.

No Man’s Land

So we’ve been here for nearly a week and are finally beginning to adjust to the lifestyle of the kibbutz. Just yesterday we received our “number,” an account used for laundry, eating at the dining room and paying rent — it’s a relic of kibbutz life that has survived change. The ease of having someone else cook our meals and clean our laundry was a very easy adjustment. But there is one change that we still cannot get used to.

Each afternoon, after finishing lunch, we suddenly become very lethargic. Napping is a contentious issue. We came here to work hard, not to nap, damnit! But each afternoon, neither one of us can keep our eyes open, and we find ourselves passing out on the couch or the bed fully clothed. Two hours later, we wake up in a state of confusion. Were we drugged?

No. We were not drugged, we had just experienced our first taste of “no man’s land.” Perhaps it is something in the air, or in the food, or some crazy mind-waves the IDF is sending out, but between 1 and 4 in the afternoon, nothing productive can be achieved. Each day we have been here, no matter how much sleep we get the night before, we find ourselves falling asleep around 1pm. At first we tried to fight it, but have since realized the futility of doing so. The old people clearly know what is going on, because they all declare that they will be unavailable between 1 and 4 — they are all napping blissfully.

So now we have just accepted that we must nap after 1. It may seem strange, but until you actually come here and experience it, you will just have to take our word for it. It’s largely an adjustment to our new work schedule. Mornings we film, late afternoon we research and take notes, sunset we film b-roll and evenings we film again. The schedule is sporadic. Some days are busier than others. Some days we schedule shoots, others we just pick up our equipment and go if the moment strikes. It is exciting, so unlike the 9-5 cubicle jobs we held at home. But we struggle with anxiety over how to keep productive, whether we are using our time most effectively, whether we are filming what we need to. But that anxiety comes with the territory of documentary filmmaking, and we are beginning to accept that.