Found in translation
Yes, I know, this article’s title is a cliched play on the wonderful Sophia Coppola film, but I’m messing around on a really important aspect of cultural connections.
So often I find myself coming across articles online saying how one language can do this, and another can do that. Each one seems restricted and distant, as if we need walls up against something that seems different.
But recently, working with two photographers to tell their stories, one of a car shop, the other a young exchange student’s search for a new home, I realised that it is only in this strange forest between ideas that good stories can be found. However, this forest is a scary place, and like myths of old, it is easy to get lost, separated and never make it out.
I sound like I’m going down a rabbit hole of 2am ‘special brownies’, but let’s express it away from translation and look at it in the editing process.
When meeting a writer, or even being a writer meeting an editor, there is a fear from both sides that one won’t be understood. Constantly when one studies the craft, conversations occur where strategies are developed to engage with the enemy. The writer must defend the immaterial and the editor tame it. These barriers form early in the idea of how roles work.
Engaging with a client, in this project it was photographers writing in a different language, first and foremost a story and a goal need to be established. There are many times I looked at other editors’ projects, their pages filled with words and photos, and felt envious because my projects seemed bare, and full of Chinese characters that still scare me even with my previous experience.
Each meeting the discussion always began with a question— where are we headed? On the journey through this forest of strange words, confusing expressions, and culture confusion, we didn’t get lost in the dark by wanting our individual goals, but by sharing one together. I soon realised that working in collaboration, two creative identities exist. And they start to whittle each other down until they become one.
And less wishy washy way of understanding this is Sergio Leone’s concept for directing actors.
I saw a documentary some time back on the making of Leone’s classic Spaghetti Western trilogy and the actors talked about how they believed in true collaboration. It starts with a broad idea, that isn’t focused, but has some boundaries. Once that is played with, the actors respond and give their thoughts. The director observes and then offers another idea, helping discover elements they were suggesting. The actors engage, play again and offer more thoughts. It continues until both parties have, as a team, got as close to the creative goal as possible—a sort of pyramid, broad at the bottom, but focused and according to some historians, pointed to other worlds.
Working in another language, adds more confusion, yes, but the process is still the same.
Moving past just the creative similarities in translation and editing, the next important aspect of working with creatives from another culture is how exactly to engage.
Maybe taking a semester in intercultural communication and living in China gave me some ideas but it is important to understand the culture you work with. This can come down to when you organise a meeting, just buy the person a coffee. It might seem simple, but in many cultures it is quite common for this to occur, and can be expected.
Yet in this it is also important to not assume that a custom is a rule. Googling Japan politeness etiquette is fun, but the internet really has connected the world and most of the time, a polite question prefaced with an apology of ignorance can go a couple of kilometres down the road of understanding, rather than trying to force something you don’t grasp.
In any collaboration, you have to work together to get through this forest of confusion, regardless of language or cultural barriers. When it gets dark, the only thing that will light your way is questions. Those questions will shine a path more than trying to force anyone to do anything.
Oh and a deadline will only make you walk faster.
Light the way, ask questions.
Matt Ziccone, 2018
