But I’m Not Artistic!

The Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh, public domain

“If you hear a voice within you say, ‘You cannot paint,’ then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced” – Vincent Van Gogh

That quote by Van Gogh is about our internal censor—the voice that erodes our confidence and prevents us from trying something new or challenging. Whenever I talk to a group of students or colleagues about making videos about their scientific research, someone invariably responds by saying that they aren’t very artistic and thus cannot be very good at videography. So, why even try?

I understand why they might think this way. Many people are reluctant to engage in any activity that presupposes creativity or artistic ability. Musicians and artists are believed to be somehow different—that they possess inherent talents the average person lacks.

However, as children, we all happily and unselfconsciously draw vivid pictures and make up imaginative stories. Then something happens. A teacher or parent says something discouraging, or our peers make fun of us. Or, as we grow older, other activities draw our attention, and that artistic spark fails to evolve.

I was lucky in that I continued to draw and sketch through childhood. I was an aspiring scientist and spent a lot of time drawing plants, insects, and protozoa that I could see with my microscope. I knew that such detailed drawings were important records for a biologist or ecologist to create. Even after digital devices came on the scene, I continued to sketch in my field notebooks and in the personal journals I kept. My ability to capture an image using only pencil and paper matured. Each drawing was better than the last one. I even became good enough to work as a free-lance scientific illustrator for a while.

My point is that any skill, whether artistic or not, improves over time with practice. With videography, your first attempts will likely not be great, perhaps even terrible. But it doesn’t matter because you will improve with each succeeding video you make. This point  is especially relevant for scientists and other professionals who want to use video as a communication tool. We’ll likely never be as good as a trained filmmaker, but we can still produce effective videos.

In fact, the scientist videographer’s goal is not to be a professional filmmaker but is instead to be a more effective science communicator. Scientists must still learn to communicate using traditional means such as writing articles for publication in journals and speaking at conferences. But we must also be able to use other media to communicate, such as video, which is now a popular way for people to get their information.

And by the way, there is no right way or wrong way to make a video. Worrying about making a technical error or being judged from a filmmaking standpoint is paralyzing. I always advise students who suffer from writer’s block to, “Just write and get your ideas down first; go back later and polish.” Most find that once they are freed from the fear of making a technical error or of not writing the perfect sentence, the words begin to flow.

That approach also works for videography. If you find yourself paralyzed with doubts, just start filming—yourself or others conducting field research or working in the laboratory. Film with the thought that you’ll not necessarily use all of the footage in your video. That view will likely free you to capture a variety of footage and give you some much-needed confidence about filming. I think you’ll find that once you’ve got some footage in hand, the creative juices will begin to flow.

So, if you are disappointed in your first attempts at videography (or are hesitant to even try), remember that even the best videographers were once novices. The difference is that they ignored their internal censor, which was gradually silenced as they made each succeeding video.

For more about this topic see: The Stages of Learning Videography (and Other Skills)

What Comics Can Teach Us About Making Science Videos

Huh? Comics? Are you serious? You probably think I’ve taken leave of my senses….but bear with me.

One of my favorite non-fiction books is Understanding Comics: The Invisible Art by Scott McCloud. Despite its age (published in 1993), this book is one of the most creative and entertaining books I’ve ever read about visual storytelling. In this book, McCloud covers the history and theory of comics, using the comic book format brilliantly to make his points about this under-appreciated art form.

And did I mention that I don’t even particularly like comics? That should tell you just how great this book is.

I happened to see a reference to it somewhere (many years ago) and was intrigued by comments about how deeply the book explored the form and substance of storytelling as well as the history of “sequential art”. I ran right out to the nearest bookstore and bought it. I was not disappointed. I’ve reread it several times over the past twenty years or so and often recommend it to people.

Forget whatever you think you know about comics. Anyone who engages in any type of visual storytelling can learn something from this book…and be entertained at the same time.  Even though it was first published twenty years ago, the content is timeless and perhaps even more relevant now, in the digital information age. Despite its topic and engaging delivery, Understanding Comics is a serious book. At its core, this book is about creativity. The information McCloud presents goes far beyond comics and can be applied to virtually any creative process, even those not involving visual formats.

The idea to use the comic format to write a book about the comic art form was clever and, moreover, was executed flawlessly. McCloud appears in the book in the form of a cartoon image with an engaging “voice”, which we (the readers) immediately accept as our guide through the world of comic art. We very quickly realize, after the first page or so, that the view of comics as simple-minded cartoons is based on very superficial features and not reflective of the artistic and intellectual processes underpinning the medium. As any writer or artist knows, creating something that tells a complex story but appears to be simple is very, very difficult. McCloud dissects the process of stripping things to their basic elements and reassembling them to tell a compelling story through the medium of “sequential art”. He articulates several theories and develops models about visual storytelling, such as the concept of  “closure” and the six steps that comic book artists (and other artists) take in going from an idea to the final product.

If you care even a little about how the creative process works, you’ll like this book (and if you like comics, you’ll love it). For those of us interested in making science videos, however, books such as this reveal a lot about how we see things and how to convey abstract ideas so that others can also see them. Learning how to turn the abstract science concept into something concrete (and at the same time be entertaining or compelling) is one of our biggest stumbling blocks in creating effective science videos. Scientists also have particular difficulty in turning what they want to say into something a viewer wants to hear (and see). Understanding Comics provides a peek into another storytelling medium that can show us how we might overcome these barriers….or at least inspire us to try.