A documentary that follows two women in a rural Utah town as they navigate two opposing identities––being lesbian and Mormon.
Tony Monroe rides his horse every day through the gang-ridden neighborhoods of Fresno in the hope of being a presence for change. A film by Dane Christensen and Aria Swarr. Produced in the Stanford Documentary Film & Video M.F.A. Program. This film won second place at the 2018 Windrider Forum.
On March 24th, 2018 high school students, teachers and citizens in America gathered to voice their concerns about living in a country where there are more laws about a woman's reproductive rights than high-powered assault weapons. Gun violence is at an epidemic level and change needs to happen. Get out and vote this November.
The film is edited to be the exact time for how long it took the shooter in Parkland, Florida to kill 17 students.
The impetus for this film comes from a personal reaction to President Donald Trump’s infamous campaign rhetoric about immigration and building the wall. As a first-generation American, I’ve felt Trump’s harsh words cut deep. What my immigrant mother showed me about America is what the new president claims is the root of our problems.
While in Tijuana, Mexico, I visited the border wall and was struck by the uncanny melancholy the stark divide emanates. I felt deterred by its ominous presence which seems to be the antithesis of American. In a land where we worship freedom, it seems unnatural to build walls rather than bridges.
The VR piece is designed to deliver an experience, much like the major news channels running Trump’s speeches, where the viewer is forcefully berated and bludgeoned by words of the wall. With the frame on Trump’s mouth, the viewer can’t escape the uncomfortable rhetoric and is forced into the sensational, faddish and unnecessary fervor for a southern border wall. The film is a direct reaction to Trump’s divisive plan that will squander precious tax dollars at an estimated $25 billion if built to the specifications set by Trump. That’s a $25 billion way to divide people and tell the rest of the world: “You’re not welcome here.”
That’s not the message my immigrant mother taught me about America.
A short film comprised of the sites, trends, language and culture that make Sweden Swedish. Shot on iPhone 7 Plus.
Jillyan and Cassidy are passionately in love. Despite the prejudices and dogmas surrounding them, they chose to be together. What they have is real and legitimate.
A short film about my grandfather who has been bowling for nearly seven decades.
A visual experiment, producing and posting a weekly vlog for two years.
Moments of Innovation is a virtual reality film that highlights 125 years of innovation at Stanford. A collaboration between the Stanford University Archives and three graduate students in Stanford’s documentary filmmaking program, the film seamlessly weaves together historical images and audiovisual materials from the Archives with 360° video footage of iconic Stanford locations and experiences.
A graffiti artist in East Palo Alto explores how his art has impacted himself, others and the community.
Filmed on 16mm film with a Bolex.
Drivers for Silicon Valley’s biggest car sharing company contemplate how they work and live through their smartphones.
An appropriation project of the key speeches from the campaign of the 45th President of the United States.
I shot this video this Summer while living in Denmark for six weeks. I became quickly intrigued by the Danes' connection with nature. Copenhagen prides itself in its green mentality and passionate focus to bring nature to the city. The video is a compilation of Danish countryside and cityscape juxtaposed to the sounds of both environments. Our society has an increasingly more complex relationship with nature. Are we losing our connection of nature or are we redefining it? Is it redefining us?
In an oceanfront city of two million people, fiberglass resin is illegal for private use. The price of a dated surfboard is three times the monthly salary. And if you venture 50 yards from shore, you can met with severe penalties. Yet, in La Habana exists a vibrant wave-riding community unlike any other in the world. And it’s continuing into its second generation.
The broader Western view of Cuba, specifically the South Florida context, expresses the country in constant comparisons: how it was, how it could, how it will. It is a tremendous effort to see the beauty and complexity of an existence as it truly is, outside comparison to a past, present, or even projected future.
Calle 70 La Habana has no producers, no journalist visas, no budget, no sponsors and no fixers. It follows the unique Cuban surf culture to experience what life is like for the surfista Cubano. It’s singular objective is to let the viewer see a Cuban way of life for what it is.
Five days with my siblings in a cabin in the woods with no internet.
Inocente, a veteran 82-year-old hammock maker, comes from Playa Grande, Mexico––a village of only 40 people. This place is beyond remote. And in his simple palapa, it takes him four days to make each double-weaved hammock he sells. I jumped at the opportunity to capture a story about a characteristic man from a village only a handful of people know about. The beach, the sun and the people were incredible.