Meet Juliet Wang | Experimental Filmmaker & Microtonal Musician

We had the good fortune of connecting with Juliet Wang and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Juliet, how has your perspective on work-life balance evolved over time?
My original plan was always to make a living crewing on film sets. During the COVID-19 pandemic, I had taken a leave of absence from the film school I was attending, and I started working on sets full-time. Thinking back, I suppose my feelings had been slowly building for years, but they didn’t quite crystalize until I went on this particular two-week TV drama set. There is a line from a novel, GIOVANNI’S ROOM, that goes, “It seemed to happen all at once—I suppose that only means that it had been happening for a long time.”

The set was the biggest one I had been on: there were trailer wagons for the actors, on-set caterers, and the pay was good (at least, for what I was used to). I should’ve been happy, but I wasn’t. I felt a terrible sense of ennui and (I did not know the concept to describe it at the time) time famishment. Halfway through the set, I wrote a piece to describe how I felt. This is what I wrote:

SETLIFE

THIS SET IS DEPRESSING ME. MAYBE I SHOULDN’T USE THAT WORD, BUT I CAN’T THINK OF A BETTER ONE.

I’M 2ND ASSISTANT CAMERA. I SLATE. I CHANGE THE LENSES. I MOVE THE CAMERA. THE WORK ISN’T CREATIVE: IT’S BARELY ENGAGING. IT’S A BIT BETTER THAN THE CAMERA SHOP, A BIT. I REMEMBER I FELT THIS WAY TOO WHEN I WORKED THERE… MEANINGLESS.

THE OTHER 2ND AC (HE ASKED ME MY PRONOUNS—THAT WAS NICE) HAS A SHIRT THAT READS, “IS THIS SH*T EVEN ART?” I DON’T THINK THIS SHOW IS—WELL, MAYBE IT’S “art,” BUT IT’S CERTAINLY NOT “Art.” I GOT INTO FILM BECAUSE I HAD SOMETHING TO SAY. SO WHY AM I LABORING IN AN OVERSATURATED INDUSTRY JUST PUMPING OUT DISTRACTIONS?

THE SET IS WORSE THAN THE CAMERA SHOP IN ONE WAY. THE INDUSTRY-STANDARD WORKDAY IS 12 HOURS. SO, WHEN I GET HOME, I JUST EAT AND GET READY FOR BED. THEN THE NEXT DAY COMES. I HAVE LITTLE TO LOOK FORWARD TO.

AFTER A WHILE AT THE CAMERA SHOP, I GOT USED TO IT. IT DIDN’T BOTHER ME AS MUCH. MAYBE THAT’S WHAT CAPITALISM DOES TO YOU: STEADILY SUCKS OUT YOUR SOUL. IF THIS IS CAPITALISM, THAT’S BAD NEWS, BECAUSE IT’LL BE HARD TO ESCAPE.

AND I KNOW—I HOPE IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING—THAT MY PROBLEMS ARE SMALL COMPARED TO OTHERS. AND NOT JUST PEOPLE FAR AWAY. MY FRIENDS. BUT THE ROOT OF THE PROBLEM IS SYSTEMIC: I DON’T SEE IT GETTING BETTER AS I CLIMB THE LADDER.

IF THIS SET WAS JUST THIS SET, THAT WOULD BE ONE THING. BUT THIS INDUSTRY, IT’S BEEN MY PLAN. I DON’T HAVE ANOTHER ONE. AND NOW I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO. I CAN’T IMAGINE DOING THIS DAY AFTER DAY, WEEK AFTER WEEK, MONTH AFTER MONTH, YEAR AFTER YEAR.

THIS SUMMER, MY FRIENDS AND I MADE A FILMMAKING AND ART COLLECTIVE CALLED VWC. IT’S REKINDLED MY JOY AROUND FILMMAKING. WHAT WE MAKE HAS MEANING—OR AT LEAST, IT’S MEANINGFUL TO US. I FEEL ENGAGED, EXCITED. I WOULDN’T MIND HAVING DAYS FILLED WITH WORK LIKE THAT. BUT I DON’T KNOW IF I’LL BE ABLE TO SUPPORT MYSELF THAT WAY.

I’M SITTING NOW, AND I FEEL LIKE CRYING. I HEAR THE WOMAN IN THE STALL NEXT TO ME VOMITING. AT LEAST I’M JUST SAD, NOT ANXIOUS. BUT WHY DO I HAVE TO CHOOSE?

That experience made me realize that the technicalities, the pure craft of filmmaking, isn’t actually that meaningful to me. I only wanted to be a filmmaker because I’m an Artist, because I have something to say. But so much of film (especially the stuff that pays), isn’t really Art.

And when I say I am an Artist, I do not mean that I want to be an artist, but that I AM one. I have things I must express, questions I need to ask. It’s like a compulsion, and though it may sound strange, it feels like something I was born to do. James Baldwin said this, and at first, I didn’t believe him, but later I realized it was true, and true for me.

The fact was, working on a film crew was not helping me make Art. It sucked up all my time, and the economics and stress of freelancing didn’t help either. I had always planned to make my own films “on the side” while doing my day job, but if my day job would be in a film crew, it would never happen.

So, I knew I had to make a change. I explored a bunch of different career paths for a while (including work as far out as dental hygienist), and right now I’m planning to pursue video work in the non-narrative corporate space, where I can showcase my creative and technical abilities in an environment with a healthier work life balance. Things may always continue to change in the future, but I will always prioritize making time and space for my own Art.

Let’s talk shop? Tell us more about your career, what can you share with our community?
I consider myself a multidisciplinary Artist, dedicating myself to film, microtonal music, and writing poetry and prose. To me, a key tenet of Art is creating connection through shared experiences. When an Artist is able to express something—an experience that someone else has also had, but has never been able to put into words and never knew anyone else experienced: when that collision occurs, it is like a spiritual connection is formed, between audience and Artist, and in that moment, we no longer feel alone.

I direct films under the moniker “J.K. Wang,” and my film work primarily (but not exclusively) revolves around experimental film and slow cinema. Examples of my experimental work include “Where the Wind Stands Still (2312),” about a future post-capitalist, interstellar society making a neorealist family drama, and “Grain,” where grain patterns from film stocks of different celestial civilizations tell the story of the universe collapsing.

Slow cinema is a genre of slow-paced, minimalist films that aim to create a state of contemplation and transcendence in the viewer. Examples in my work include “French Toast at 23:00,” about the denial and processing of grief through performing mundane activities, and SIT WITH ME AND DO NOTHING FOR A WHILE, where a woman meditates on her life in an 80-minute unbroken zoom shot as the lens slowly reveals more and more brutal information.

I often follow a politically anarchist model for my physical film production. Decisions on set are made through group consensus, and everyone is treated and credited as co-directors. Mechanical crew positions, expensive equipment, and budget are limited or eliminated. The “cinematic” is eschewed in favor of the beautifully imperfect. There is often little to no script, minimizing creative predetermination, and allowing the actors and co-directors to freely find the film together on set. The goal is radical joy in the process: anti-capitalist, anti-hierarchical filmmaking affirms the means is as important as the end. I hope, at least in my little production space, to make the word “work,” like in the Anarresti language, synonymous and indistinguishable from “play.”

I also create microtonal music under the name “Juliet Kenzie.” Microtonality is the use of notes beyond the 12 notes an octave of standard Western tuning. Or in other words, the exploration of the notes in between the notes, where we can find novel melodies, harmonies, chords, and emotions. My music often spans genres, but if I had to put a label on it, I might call it avant chamber pop combined with spoken word. My songs include “As the Ground Begins to Boil,” about different reactions to the seemingly inevitable collapse of society due to capitalist and climate pressures, “A Pizza Place in Palm Springs,” about the inability to reconnect with old relationships despite the seemingly increasing connectedness of the digital world, and “Silly Little Angst Song,” about a first, unrequited crush post-coming out.

My collaborations include our film and art collective VWC with Daniel Oh, Michael Cueto, and Alex Abrams. Our work is eclectic: I like to say we range from sh*tposts to high art (as well as sh*tposts that are also high art). For example, we’ve made a satirical series about two YouTube film critics who start beef over differing opinions on a 23-second film consisting solely of a black screen (VACUUM), and we’ve also made a triptych adaptation of a poem written during a panic attack (VIDEO WAVEFORM CONTENT, helmed by Cueto).

I also write short stories for the magazine BULLETSHRIMP! We have our dual release of two 100-page art magazines coming soon: BULLETSHRIMP! RED, about queer rage, and BULLETSHRIMP! GREEN, about queer growth and reflection.

If you had a friend visiting you, what are some of the local spots you’d want to take them around to?
I’m a foodie, so you know we’re gonna EAT! On the Westside, there’s Banadir Somali Restaurant in Inglewood, where they have a huge goat and rice plate that is fantastic and super affordable too. Nearby in Westwood, is Taste of Tehran with the juiciest beef koobideh wrap I’ve had in my life.

On the Eastside is my favorite sushi place, Osawa in Pasadena. I’ll usually get the chiarashi & udon or the sushi lunch, which aren’t too expensive for what you get. They always have a great selection of fish, and each piece is super unique and distinct from the others, and the meal always takes you on a culinary adventure.

Deeper in the San Gabriel Valley in the 626 area is where you can find all the best Asian food. There’s a plethora of choices here, but if you want to splurge, Bistro Na is incredible. It’s located in a strip mall, and the first time I went in, it was a total shock: it literally looks like a palace inside. And the food matches the décor—a must order is the crispy shrimp, where they render even the shrimp shell into an artful crunchy-sweet delicacy.

For dessert, there’s the wonderful and small Salju Dessert that serves shaved ice cream with an incomparable texture. My go to flavor is the Vietnamese coffee. And you can’t forget drinks—boba drinks, that is! My absolute favorite boba spot is Orobae in Orange County: their rising phoenix oolong milk tea is so, so fragrant and deliciously complex.

Who else deserves some credit and recognition?
I want to shoutout my film collective VWC, and the other members: Daniel Oh, Michael Cueto, and Alex Abrams. They’ve made a space that is always excited about new ideas (no matter how out there), treats everybody as radically equal collaborators, and challenges each of us to do our best work and to think deeper and harder. We have this in-joke catchphrase: “We VWC’d it,” which we say whenever we inadvertently inject way too much effort and creative energy into some silly idea until we elevate the product into a whole other plane of existence. (Like when we accidentally turned a sketch making fun of Casey Neistat to a full-fledged character study feature film). They’ve been my lifeline when encountering unsupportive or Philistinian academic or creative spaces, and it’s the place where I feel most at home. We sometimes have our rough patches, but I love all of them, and I hope we continue making great work together for a long time.

I also want to shoutout Vince Kelly, whom I collaborate with on our experimental queer magazine BULLETSHRIMP! He is an incredible graphic designer and Artist, and he has taught me (and continues to teach me) how to be brave and bold and confrontational.

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thejk.wang

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@julietkenzie

Other: VWC: https://www.youtube.com/@vwc BULLETSHRIMP!: https://www.instagram.com/bulletshrimp

Image Credits
Kenneth Wang, Alex Abrams, Red Pang, Juliet Wang