This week on the podcast, we journey to the far edges of the map — to the icy reaches of South Georgia Island — with award-winning filmmaker Kevin Schreck. His latest documentary, Antarctic Voyage, follows field biologist Dr. Samantha Monier on a research expedition into one of the planet’s most remote and fragile ecosystems. .stk-d0b139b {--stk-feature-flex-wrap:nowrap !important;} .stk-9516497 {align-self:center !important;} Screening 04/14 Antarctic Voyage will be shown ONE NIGHT ONLY at: Images Cinema, 50 Spring Street, Williamstown, Mass. Tickets .stk-a0f41d0 {align-self:center !important;} Part adventure story, part visual meditation, Antarctic Voyage steps outside the conventions of the typical nature doc to offer something deeper: a poetic, urgent look at the wild lives still clinging to the polar margins — and the scientists fighting to understand and protect them. Stay with us. Rough Transcript The following transcript has an accuracy of approximately 98 percent. Top Left Corner: And welcome everyone to another episode of the Top Left Corner right here at The Greylock Glass GreylockGlass.com. I’m your host, Jay Velázquez, and I have a really fascinating conversation lined up for you. We’re going to be speaking with Kevin Schreck, a filmmaker who was the recipient of both the Jerome Hill Award for exceptional work in the documentary tradition and the recipient of the Award for contribution to the Film and Electronic Arts Department of Bard College as an educator. Kevin has been a teaching artist and mentor at Real Works, a Brooklyn based nonprofit dedicated to helping young aspiring filmmakers from low income backgrounds and underrepresented communities get a start in the very competitive film industry. Kevin has taught master classes and guest lectures on filmmaking and film history at major colleges and universities in Australia, Denmark, and across the United States. Kevin, it’s so good having you here on the show. Welcome. Home at Sea: The research vessel Laurence M. Gould served as home base for the month-long expedition around South Georgia Island, supporting scientists and filmmakers alike in one of the world’s most remote marine environments; photo courtesy Kevin Schreck. Kevin Schreck: Thank you. I’m glad to be here. Top Left Corner: Well, we’re going to be talking about, um, Antarctic voyage, uh, a monumental, uh, work of of documentary filmmaking in this sort of, you know. Uh, documentary tradition, but with some definite differences, um, which I know we’re going to get into. Um, first of all, let me know and let our audience know, um, how you ended up on a research vessel, um, circling the South Georgia island in in Antarctica. Kevin Schreck: Yeah. So. Well, I’ll jump to the moral of the story first, which is networking is everything. Um, because I was friends with someone back in college, Samantha Monnier and Sam, uh, her background, uh, earlier, uh, as a teenager was in musical theater. And so she always had a love of the arts and, uh, then found because she wanted to explore the world, um, a love of scientific research and adventure in those disciplines. And I was sort of the inverse of that, you know, uh, a filmmaker who, um, or aspiring filmmaker in college at least, who, uh, always loved the natural sciences, zoology, biology, paleontology, all those all those good ologies. And, um, we were friends then. We stayed in touch, became even closer friends, uh, after graduation years later. And then I would say, I think it would have been about 2018 or so. She reached out to me and said something along the lines of, hey, would you ever possibly, maybe consider, um, making a documentary in the Antarctic about scientific research and the wildlife down there. And of course, I said, yeah, I’d probably consider that at least. And the angle was that, you know, at this point, she was trying to get, um, what she needed to, uh, attain her PhD and a route that one could take with that is, um, trying to get a grant from the National Science Foundation. Fragile Fortress: The rugged coastline of South Georgia Island rises from the Southern Ocean — a remote sanctuary for seabirds, seals, and other species increasingly vulnerable to climate disruption; photo courtesy Kevin Schreck. Kevin Schreck: And the NSF was interested in what they wanted to do. They wanted to study what the wildlife was up to, especially like, um, pelagic seabirds and marine mammals, what they were up to during the winter time, the austral winter, that is during our summer in the sub-Antarctic. And see if that’s changed, uh, because they hadn’t done research like this in over 30 years, and a lot can happen in 30 years. So it was historic. It was interesting. But NSF understandably said, well, and of course they didn’t literally say this, but the but the gist of it was, this is all well and good and interesting, but we have to be realistic. Nobody’s going to read a dry, academic scientific paper about this. You have to find a broader impact so that the general public takes notice of this. And Sam’s idea was, well, lucky for us. I know a documentary filmmaker who loves science and animals and nature. Let’s see if he’s around. And that’s how I got involved. Top Left Corner: Hmm. So your camera was essentially the key to unlocking the funding that, uh, that. Now, doctor, uh, Monier, uh, needed to to get this project completed. That’s really, really, uh, fortuitous. And. Yeah, uh, it is often who you know, right? Uh, networking is is key. So, um, had you ever. I mean, I know I see that you were born and grew up in Minnesota, so it’s not like you were unfamiliar with frigid temperatures. Um, had you ever had you ever been anywhere that barren before? As as Antarctica or seemingly barren? Kevin Schreck: Um, no. I mean, you know, yes, I was I was prepared in a, in a, in a sort of beginner’s level sense that I actually, you know, tolerate or even enjoy the cold, uh, you know, but being on a boat on, you know, the Saint Croix River or Lake Minnetonka, a pontoon boat is very different from being on a research vessel in the Antarctic through the Strait of Magellan. Uh, but, um, but it was a challenge I was willing to take. You know, I honestly didn’t even know if I would get seasick until I was down there. Luckily, I did not, but the opportunity was too great to pass up the offer. Um, you know, it was. It wasn’t even on my bucket list to do this sort of thing, because I don’t really have a bucket list, but I try to be realistic. It’s like, oh yeah, I’m not. Probably not going to go to the Antarctic and I’m probably not going to go to outer space. So let’s just not even put those, you know, those dreams on the table necessarily. Let’s be realistic here. And then, lo and behold, someone is willing to pay me to do exactly that, to go to the Antarctic and make a science and nature film, but also have full creative control in doing so, which was a real boon. I’ve been spoiled with that for much of my career, but, um, considering that the stakes were high and the opportunity was rare, um, I was still given immense creative freedom. So once I got there, I actually quite enjoyed the landscape of it. I mean, I it sounds weird, but like, there’s something oddly humbling and refreshing about Being out in the open ocean, in a polar region and not seeing land for days. It’s. And that was through transit because we were mostly surrounding the island once we got there for the bulk of those four weeks. But, um, in transit, it is just emptiness. And I kind of liked that because, you know, I live in Brooklyn, New York, and I love living in New York, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes your day can be colored by, oh, I spent too much on that sandwich. That was stupid of me. Or like, damn it, I missed the train. I’m going to be three minutes late or something like that. None of those petty little things from civilization matter. You just feel small and insignificant. And yet, in a weird way, in spite of that smallness and insignificance that you almost feel when you’re also looking up at the cosmos at night. In spite of all that, I felt weirdly like connected to it like that I wasn’t the center of the universe, and human beings kind of naturally like, you know, see the world through their own eyes. But here it’s like I’m just seeing what I’m seeing in front of me. And, um, and I’m not distracted by all the petty annoyances of civilization. I’m just here for this adventure. And that was really kind of refreshing. Wildlife in Motion: A Gentoo penguin propels itself above the surface in search of food or safety, a brief moment of flight in an otherwise aquatic life; photo courtesy Kevin Schreck. Top Left Corner: Yeah. I’m really, um. You’ve got the hairs in the back of my neck standing up. It was really kind of eerie because the word I was kept coming back to when I, when I watched the film was humbling. Um, there was just something so humbling. Um, you could tell. And I imagine seeing it on a much larger screen, uh, will be just devastatingly humbling. Um, and and you use the word connected, and I get that. I really get that, um, there was a time when I was standing on, on top of a mountain on the clearest night I’ve ever seen, and the entire galaxy See, I was bathed in the light of the galaxy and I had a similar feeling of wow, yes, I’m insignificant, but no more so than anything else, and no less so than anything else. Kevin Schreck: Exactly. Top Left Corner: Yes, it was really, really cool. There’s two. There’s actually three parts to this, to this film for me anyway. There’s there is the science of it, you know, the biology of it. There’s the filmmaking of it, and then there’s the cast of characters, um, which you did a really good job. Um, I think a really good job sort of giving us a flav
