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Multi-Tasking and Choplets

Columbus Neighborhoods: Worthington Producer Cindy Gaillard holds a Choplets poster to be photographed.

Columbus Neighborhoods: Worthington Producer Cindy Gaillard holds a Choplets poster to be photographed.

Cindy Gaillard
Columbus Neighborhoods: Worthington producer

The minute I start working on a documentary, I know that my multi-tasking skills had better be in shape. I have found nothing more demanding (and rewarding) than trying to sift through centuries of history and all of its ephemera, and keep it all straight in my head.

For example, a typical day might start with learning about flint-lock rifles. I might grab a cup of tea as I read about Choplets, the popular meatless protein made by Worthington Foods, followed by a web search to understand the architectural philosophy of Frank Lloyd Wright.

And so it goes – negotiating image rights, finding a master horn (that’s cow’s) maker (in Dayton of all places)…researching the historical period pewter mugs were used…negotiating with Civil War re-enactors to get close-up shots of their canons as they fire…reading the actual covenants of post-World War II housing developments that restricted home buyers to the Caucasian race. And so on.

Some marines do a lot before 9am. I span centuries in a matter of minutes.

When we arrived at the Harding Hospital Museum on a day to take photographs of posters from the early days of Worthington Foods, Ryan Schlagbaum nestled behind the camera and I held up the posters. I didn’t see the actual image he took until months later when I started editing.

When I pulled up the picture I had a good laugh because I know what I’m doing. I’m talking with Kim Feinknopf, the archivist. I’m holding the poster and asking for yet again one more photo, one more poster, one more box that I might have a look at.

I’m getting more details, more substance, more fun facts that I might be able to weave into the story. By the way – the poster you see in the documentary is actually this photo, just cropped to cut my image away.

My high school journalism teacher said that a good journalist has an insatiable curiosity. Back then, I was satisfied listening to my grandmother tell family stories. Now, I pester archivists about Choplets, or flint-locks or canons.

And then, when I sit down to edit, all those details swirl around me like musical notes. I don’t use them all, but I use the strongest, the most resonating and pure details I’ve learned to make something close to visual music. It’s the only way I know how to do this thing we call producing.