We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Mac Premo a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

Mac, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today We’d love to hear about a project that you’ve worked on that’s meant a lot to you.

Last year I exhibited a series of 100 collages called I’m Usually Pretty Good At Naming Things. The series as a whole– or the effort, I should say, is an attempt at communicating with my kids. Honestly, it;’s just that simple. For many years, I’ve created work across the spectrum of medium, from sculpture to large scale installation to theater to film. Looking back, it feels like much of that work was created with the intention of fulfilling a pre-ordained meaning. I knew what I wanted to say, and then I build an art apparatus around that statement. I’m Usually Pretty Good At Naming Things was perhaps the first time I put forth a concerted effort in pursuit of finding meaning, not dictating it. The process was a little bit daunting, and quietly exhilarating. Part of its personal impact was how this project changed as I was making it: my initial working title for the series was ‘Letters To My Daughters’; but my kids are queer. And their journey has only intensified since the inception of my endeavor to make this series. As I was building a communication system through art, new considerations were introduced to the conversation. So I made a short film about the series, about this whole process. People seem to like the film, and it’s gotten a nod here and there. But nothing in relative terms to other films I’ve made. For me, though, it’s my favorite film I’ve ever made. I think I was caught off guard a bit while making it, and that vulnerability is just not something you can produce at will.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

I moved to New York in 1995. So yes, I’m old. I came here to film commercials and make art, and that’s what I do. For what it’s worth, I’ve left both of those industries on separate occasions; once to become a carpenter, and another time to remain an actual artist. That’s a bit cryptic, but the upshot is that there is not straight path. I got into film through studying animation, and I got into carpentry through having to build myself a bedroom in an east village loft, and I got into sculpture through carpentry, and the whole time I was making art because it’s an impulse, a lifeblood, I guess. So I got into my industry– whatever it was at the time, by just dong the things that one does in that industry. As far as creative services I provide, my main commercial endeavor is that as a filmmaker. I make commercials, mainly in LA, with a tremendous production company called Supply & Demand. They’ve been representing me for a decade, and I’m lucky to work with folks that feel like family. My wife and I also make films together, but they are all mainly documentary films, short form stuff, usually about science stuff. And in that case, i feel incredibly lucky to work with someone who IS family.
I think in both capacities, the biggest problem solving asset I provide is the ability to take complex ideas and compress them, both in form and time, and explain them in a way that’s digestible but still true to the idea. I think of what I do as making moving illustrations, and what sets me apart from others is the sensibility I bring to those illustrations. I guess one would call that my style, but I certainly couldn’t exactly define what that means. I don’t think you find your style; I think it finds you. Usually a few thousand hours into a particular practice.
What I am most proud of is just being near my family. I know it’s corny, and I should probably have a more business oriented answer, but all this work, all this artistic endeavor, what’s it for? At its most basic form, its for money, I guess. But if you are lucky, your pursuits offer you path to meaning. And every meaningful path I’ve ever travelled has always lead me home.

Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?

This is such a great question, because un-learning is a vital skill, and is so singular and contextual, there’s no roadmap. Unlearning only happens in un-school. If you live your life as a freelancer, at some point you realize that what you are doing is– by definition, insane. The definition of insanity is attempting the same task over and over but expecting a different result, which is also pretty much the job description of any freelance endeavor. It’s a combination of stick-to-it-ivness and constant rejection.
A byproduct of being rejected so much, especially when you are up-and-coming, is to say yees at every single opportunity that presents itself. You look past impossible budgets and unrealistic timeframes and just find a way, make it work. You kind of have to.
But at a certain point, in order to grow and expand your worth, both personally and professionally, you have to say no to certain jobs. So for me, I had to un-learn saying yes to every opportunity, and build a system where I could say no. I think the most important part of this lesson– one is that is almost ubiquitous and certainly not unique to me– is that learning to say no is still learning. Like, you’re gonna get it wrong sometimes, and you are going to say no to projects you probably should have said yes to.
We are all accustom to saying yes to a project we shouldn’t have. That pain is proverbial water-cooler fodder (the freelance water cooler being a bar, of course). But saying no to something you shouldn’t have, missing that opportunity is a private event. And it happens, and that’s that.
I’ve rambled on here, so I’ll make my backstory short:
About a decade ago, I was approached about making a short documentary for a storytelling festival. They had almost no money for the film (but had rented a fabulous venue in New York City and secured famous authors to speak). A pretty big commercial came in, and I realized I probably couldn’t do both. In talking it out with the storytelling event organizer, she was pretty guilt-trippy and reminded me of what a ‘good opportunity’ this could be for me.
I took the commercial. It was Ford F-150. We made enormous props and drove real-life trucks around in the dessert like maniacs while filming everything with millions of dollars worth of equipment. I picked right.
VERY IMPORTANT SIDENOTE!! When someone has to tell you that a job is a ‘great opportunity’, it usually isn’t. Opportunities are something you create, NOT a method of payment.

What can society do to ensure an environment that’s helpful to artists and creatives?

I really wanted to answer a question that doesn’t sound like I’m just complaining more, but I think it’s important to take this chance to speak to clients that work with creatives here. I really like that you refer to a ‘creative ecosystem’ because it steps toward addressing the idea of hierarchy. I think that’s important, because creatives, especially freelance ones, tend to bristle against hierarchical structure. Sure, a client is the one paying, and the job is to deliver for the client. But that shouldn’t mean that creatives are hired to be part of the King’s court. And trust me, every freelancer holds dear the fact that they don’t technically have a boss. It’s of little recourse, but it’s what we have in lieu of, I dunno… healthcare, paid leave, regular hours, and a pension.
So in an ideal situation, the creative feels appreciated for the specific skill set they bring to the job. That could mean a million things, but when it works best, it feels like a partnership between the client and the creative.
This DOES NOT mean that the creative is coddled. Personally, I respond best when I am imbued with a sense of unique responsibility. I like to work, sure, but I LOVE to contribute. If you find a creative that you trust and ask them to actually create, they’ll work harder. If you treat them like a computer and just demand they output what you dictated, you’ll get a deliverable.

Contact Info:

• Website: www.macpremo.com
• Instagram: @macpremo
• Facebook: Mac Premo
• Other: vimeo: mac premo

Image Credits
john midgley kacy jahanbini