Father’s Films reveal memories

I keep telling myself I’ve got to do something about the clutter overtaking my garage. The garage is a double-bay and my wife Pat’s car, much to her chagrin, has never been parked inside out of the elements since we moved into the house. Her space is packed to the ceiling with everything from lawnmowers and tools, through to numerous cardboard boxes containing treasured memorabilia we’ve never had the time to sort through. Last fall I did make a feeble attempt to organize the space. However that expedition didn’t last long after being sidetracked upon discovering a tattered box containing over a dozen cans of 16 mm home movie film belonging to my father taken in the late 1930’s.

It was in the early 20th Century that home movie making by amateurs became a realistic possibility. The Kodak Company, founded by George Eastman, became the leading player in early 20th century developments in both still photography and in movie making. The company launched their first 16mm home movie system in 1923. The first films were in Black and White with the first color film (dubbed Kodacolor) appearing in 1928. 

The silent 16 mm film format was initially aimed at the home filmmaker, but by the 1930s it became popular for professional use in the educational market. In 1935 came the option of sound and an improved color process called Kodachrome. During WW2 the format was extensively used resulting in a massive increase of 16 mm professional filmmaking. The clients for these films included schools, government departments, medical institutions and industrial groups. I recall in my elementary school years viewing a steady flow of National Film Board presentations in the classroom. One I’ve never forgotten was a “short” called The Loon's Necklace which told the story of how the loon got the distinctive band around its neck. I recall vividly how the filmmaker used West Coast First Nations ceremonial masks to illustrate the legend. 

From the box which was stored in the carport, I picked out two films which seemed to appear in better shape than the others and carted them off to London Drugs in Nanaimo. I’d recently seen a flyer advertising that the store’s camera department could convert old films into a DVD format to play back on your TV or computer. London Drugs shipped my two films off to a lab in Calgary to be processed. Weeks later, a few days before Christmas the converted film/DVD arrived back and on Boxing Day at our family dinner we all positioned ourselves in front of the TV for a viewing. When the films were taken to London Drugs I had no idea what the contents were. It turned out the first movie focused upon my first two years on the planet (1938/39) with the second featuring family holidays in Penticton (early 1940’s) where my mother’s parents and brother lived plus scenes of my brother Terry and myself riding Shetland ponies in Vancouver’s Stanley Park. 

Especially interesting were the summer scenes taken on Penticton’s sandy beaches which were virtually deserted, this being before the flood of rubber-tire tourism that came with the building of the Hope/Princeton highway in 1949. Up till then the only way to get to the Okanagan Valley was by train or an arduous day’s drive up the narrow and winding Fraser Canyon Highway via Kamloops and south to Vernon and Kelowna. At Kelowna a ferry transported cars across Lake Okanagan to West Bank. From there getting to Penticton involved another hour’s drive south. With wartime gas-rationing few holiday seekers made the trip. 

The tattered box found in the garage still holds a number of 16 mm films. I’m looking forward to other family showings and seeing the films through the eyes of our children and grandchildren as they watch their great great grandparents, great grandparents, grand parents and uncles cavort in front of the camera. The memories they’ll undoubtedly trigger will last a lifetime. 

On Wednesday I hiked aboard a 6:30 am ferry at Departure Bay. From Horseshoe Bay, a crowded city bus transported the walk-ons into downtown Vancouver. Trudging several blocks through a driving rainstorm on Granville Street brought me to Tom Lee Music store to attend a seminar on using the Disklavier Yamaha piano as a teaching tool in the digital age. 

The original Yamaha Disklavier piano made its debut in 1986. The technology involved taking a traditional acoustic grand piano and equipping it with integrated digital electronics for recording and auto playback. Since that time, these computer-age 'player' pianos have evolved into instruments that can reproduce not only 'live' acoustic piano concerts, but ensemble music with instrumental and vocal tracks as well. They allow the player to record and instantly play back their own performance, create complex multi-track arrangements, and connect to the world of musical opportunities offered by MIDI devices, personal computers and the Internet. 

The demonstration of the Disklavier piano was given by Stella Branzburg Sick who received her early music education at the State Conservatory in Novosibirsk, Russia. Upon coming to the United States she went on to earn her Bachelor and Master of Music degrees at the Eastman School of Music in Rochester, NY. The pianist is a pioneer in the field of long-distance piano performance and instruction, teaching students in various parts of the United States from her private and collegiate studios in Minnesota by connecting her Yamaha Disklavier piano to the student’s piano over the Internet, using long distance MIDI connectivity technology in conjunction with video via the computer program Skype.

Later this month Pat will be adjudicating lower mainland piano students for the Toronto Conservatory Examination Department. The piano consultant at Tom Lee Music has invited me to spend some time playing the Disklavier when we’re in Vancouver. Are we contemplating getting one of these remarkable instruments? Buying a piano of such excellence is a little like purchasing an automobile. A lot of haggling is part of the process and much would depend on receiving a substantial trade-in for our present Steinway grand piano. In the meantime I plan to enjoy test-driving the Disklavier pianos in the music store’s expansive showroom.