Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Don Starnes. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Don, appreciate you joining us today. Let’s start with the story of your mission. What should we know?

As a child, well before I had adequate language to describe it, I wondered why people are so often disassociated from actual, real life and from each other. After I began making movies as a teenager and later went to film school, I literally wrote a manifesto: by drawing a rectangle around glimpses of reality, movies can connect us to life, to ourselves, and to each other. They can reveal our common humanity and sometimes ennoble us. This belief has had subtle influence on every frame that I’ve photographed ever since.

Don, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

I’m a motion picture Director of Photography, passionate about cinematic storytelling. In addition to photographing great looking shots, a good DP helps directors and producers make movies that move people— on time and on budget. This isn’t easy; filmmaking is a large group endeavor with many moving parts and many, many opportunities for failure. Fortunately, there are incredibly effective methods to solve filmmaking’s problems. I’m an expert in those methods.

The term Director of Photography emphasizes the working-with-people aspect of the job, in contrast to its synonym, Cinematographer, which emphasizes the photography. Both aspects are essential to me.

I began as an artist, making my own films in high school and college. I supported this by working as a still photographer, typesetter (which used to be a thing), graphic designer and stringer (journalist)— skills that I had developed in school (and that used to pay well). Soon, I began to work in the motion picture business: at a rental house, a film lab, in post-production, camera assisting and lighting. It soon became clear that I had to choose between my own filmmaking and professional film work, because both are all consuming and, therefore, mutually exclusive. I chose to go pro— as a Director of Photography.

Director of Photography is a senior management position on a movie crew. At a young age, I was hired to photograph a theatrical feature film and perhaps could have continued as a DP. However, I didn’t feel that I had earned the title, or that I had enough experience to do it well (at that time, nearly all Directors of Photography were at least several decades older than I was). So, I intentionally climbed down the ladder, so to speak, and went to work as a film loader (an entry level position). I worked my way back up to DP for about 9 years. It took several more years before I felt comfortable with the title. Decades later, I still learn something every day that I work. I’ve met many people who started as a DP (which is common now) and who flounder: I recommend working up through the ranks of professional camera departments instead.

I photograph short and feature films, commercials, documentaries, music videos, digital content and other things. I sometimes work as a camera operator on TV shows. The movie business is fun, cinematography is its own reward and I enjoy the craft. I have very reasonable career goals: to do the best work that I can and to earn a living.

However, I have very high standards for cinema, justified by the many astonishing works of art that I’ve seen and the many terrible movies that make the great ones more valuable. I constantly search for filmmakers to work with who have similar cinematic interests, values and standards. They are surprisingly hard to find.

I’m proud that I’ve usually helped make movies that I work on better, but I’m most proud of the work I’ve done with a few exceptional filmmakers.

I direct a movie occasionally, when a suitable project comes along, and make a short passion project of my own every once in a while.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

Having started as a film artist, I was immediately humbled (by the rest of the crew) when I became a film worker. I came to assume that people wanted a crew member who was reliable and unpretentious, who would not cause trouble and not challenge anyone. When someone asked me to do something hard or potentially demeaning, I’d often attempt to put them at ease by joking “it’s ok: I have no ego.”

But this attitude sometimes puzzled people. When I was a camera operator, a DP I respected once asked me “how can you have anything creative to offer if you don’t have an ego?” I began to notice that the people who most valued this attitude in me had the least value for or appreciation of my work— I was completely replaceable to them.

Ironic: I revel in the astonishingly particular depth and breadth of each person, but I myself strove to appear unexceptional and conventional, thinking that I’d fit in better.

I eventually had to learn that I was indeed unexceptional: that, like everyone else, I have a unique perspective, essential sensibilities and a particular combination of talents, and that what people want and need is for me to work confidently and generously from that.

Any thoughts, advice, or strategies you can share for fostering brand loyalty?

I’m terrible at keeping in touch with clients; client loyalty happens with me despite this.

There are an infinite amount of fascinating things to learn about filmmaking and, like most professionals I know, I’m very critical of my work. Whenever I’m between jobs, I tend to behave like I’m in the second act of a martial arts movie: retreat alone to my cave, reforge my sword, study and practice, develop myself, test myself, get better and wait for someone to hire me so that I can prove myself again.

However, the way that you maintain clients and get new work and is by being out in the world, active with other people: enjoying industry friendships, networking, finding people and connecting them together.

So, I sometimes do what works: keep in touch with clients, complimenting them on their latest work and sharing mine. For creative people, it’s important to constantly be doing creative work (of your own or for others) and to develop channels to constantly share news of this work. This is your creative pulse; people need to know that you’re still alive, exciting and valuable.

Any creative work shows this pulse. If you work as a commercial director but have a play that opens in a neighborhood theater, be sure to let your clients (and your agent, etc.) know about it. Or a painting that you just painted. Pretty much anything that shows your creative excellence is important to share with people.

It’s important to look for opportunities to help others succeed, to connect people together for their benefit. For example, a chance to introduce a client to a collaborator or customer, or another freelancer with a good opportunity. This binds you all together.

I have a carefully planned Instagram page, designed to show my creative pulse. I use Facebook differently: to help connect people so that they can get things done, promote people’s work and to share some news about my work. In the realm of real life, I try to meet up for coffee or something with people as often as I can.

Like any freelancer, I try to balance life, family, self-forging, client maintenance, networking and promotion. It’s a challenging and humbling practice.

Contact Info:

• Website: http://donstarnes.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/donstarnes/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/donstarnes
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/dstarnes/