by Matt Paley
Oh my god, it’s finally here.
This was one of those projects. None of the lovely people — Lily Susskind, my mighty co-director; Matt Ferro, our genius behind the camera; STE’s own Jake Teresi, our enabler, producer, and host in New Orleans; Carsie Blanton, our musical muse and sponsor – had any idea if and when it would suddenly (in my unsteady hands) transform itself into something lovely, hard and brilliant, and I had only the slightest inkling (and only sometimes).
Certainly, it was a project with the makings of something good. Carsie had managed to round up a veritable who’s who of the world’s greatest swing dancers – Chance Bushman, Giselle Anguizola, Peter Loggins, Amy Johnson, Reuel Reis, Laura Manning and Lisa Casper — and we’d constructed a tiny crew equally versed in dance and film primed to push the boundaries of the dance on film we’d seen before. Thanks to the generosity and excitement of the performers who joined us, our time in New Orleans and the footage we’d collected was unbelievable. But in the editing process, trying to capture the spirit of all of these dancers and their opposing styles, to respect the dance and still cut it mercilessly, to delight in the magic of New Orleans without reverting to cliché, and above all to fit everything into barely three minutes of song seemed an impossible task.
And yet, at long last, here it is! Shot in the streets of the 8th Ward, inside a St. Charles streetcar, on the balcony of Mimi’s in the Marigny, and in the abandoned Six Flags in Michoud, Baby Can Dance is a celebration of life and joy and dance and a city that’s always pregnant with all three. Please enjoy.
by Matt Paley
I recently had the profound pleasure of spending a quiet evening at the normally wild and crazy Acme studios in Brooklyn with my dearest friend Rachel Trachtenburg, her mother Tina, and Acme’s brigadier general, Shawn Patrick. After a dinner and a movie of nachos and Sidney Lumet’s Network (try this as soon as you can), I was tasked with sharing a few of my favorite music videos. Most, unsurprisingly, were received well — Rihanna’s Spike Lee/Keith Herring/Warhol/Basquiat send-up Rude Boy and Beyonce as bored/scorned housewife/Marilyn Monroe in Why Don’t You Love Me? are both incredibly fun and really smart cultural homage — but my very favorite video of the year, Robyn’s pitch-perfect (as far as I’m concerned) Call Your Girlfriend, was roundly rejected. (more…)
by Matt Paley
Jason Trachtenburg and Andrew WK laugh manically into Seth Applebaum’s camera on the set of Dumb Dumbs
The boys (and girls) over at Greth Productions have long been a source of inspiration for us here at STE. Their work is alive and electric – crackling with humor, ingenuity, and a love for cinema that we see in the eyes of every zombie, cannibal, and bloodthirsty nun they throw on screen. I’ve counted Greg Hanson and Casey Regan amongst my closest friends and favorite collaborators since they lent us a hand on the set of Ruchiki, but hadn’t yet gotten to pay back the favor – until now.
Dumb Dumbs is Greg Hanson’s insane fever-dream of a music video for Rachel Trachtenburg (of Ruchiki fame) and her teen-girl outfit, SUPERCUTE! An homage to the drug-scare films of the 1930s and 40s, Dumb Dumbs is pure Greg – stylish, innovative, twisted and absurd. Liz and I were delighted to be asked to produce – almost as delighted as we are to share a little piece of the madness with you now. Enjoy!
by Matt Paley
I first visited New Orleans this past February and — like nearly everyone I know who’s made the trip — I found myself quickly ensnared in nets of magic and, from the very moment I left, anxious to return. How lucky I was to find myself, not three months later, back in Nola at the helm of a project that combined so many of my favorite things: a lovely folk singer, some extraordinary dancers, nightclubs, streetcars, and an abandoned six flags… the result (in whatever forms it settles into, still very much a mystery) is the Baby Can Dance project, a collaboration with Lily Susskind, Founder of Baltimore’s Effervescent Collective, and folk singer-songwriter Carsie Blanton and her delirious mix of folk, pop, jazz and, in this case, swing.
Carsie, Lily, the insanely talented Matt Ferro (whose camerawork can be seen in Pitkoff’s La Vie and No Sleep) and I descended on New Orleans (and on STE’s own Jake Teresi, who produced the hell out of this crazy shoot) and came together with a number of the very best swing dancers in New Orleans — and, thusly, the world — to photograph their dancing in ways it hadn’t been captured before. I think we very much succeeded. Below is a first little taste of what we’re playing with, featuring Laura Manning and Reuel Reis.
Much more to come.
by Matt Paley
Rook (Nicholas Garcia) relaxing by his bicycle.
The last few months have seen a remarkable change in me, as a steadfast commitment to my Boston way of life has given way to a rootlessness that has taken me across the country three times, the endless motion powering a thorough examination – and a rapid (westward?) expansion – of self. I mostly feel fractured, exhausted, and underwater – but I’m certain that the struggle will yield a real, sharp clarity in the months to come.
Luckily, when I do surface, I have two lovely travelogues to read.
The Long Haul maps my dear friend Nicholas Garcia’s thirty-two hundred mile cycling journey from Vermont to California. Nick is a lovely, vivid writer, and there’s something particularly refreshing about his journaling style – especially since he’s often updating from his phone, which forces his writing into the tightest of prose – it’s simple, unadorned, but lucid, generous, and crackling with wit.
Speaking of wit: Going Hollywood is our friend (and frequent STE collaborator) Adam Goldman’s document of his trip Westward as he stops in ten of America’s Hollywoods (currently he’s in Hollywood, Florida, having just left Hollywood, South Carolina, having previous hit the one in Maryland and both in Pennsylvania – get it?) on his way to the fabled Hollywood, California. Along the way he’s creating a long-form audio documentary (think This American Life) chronicling his trip and interviewing people about the experience of living in the other Hollywoods. A marvelous project, Adam’s blog is less useful as a travel document than as an excuse to read his writing (and, for a few posts, that of The Busy Signal and Skin Horse Theater’s Brian Dorsam), which is sparkling, consistently hilarious and impossibly charming.
I find that, right after checking the headlines (and the movie section) of my NYTimes app, I move straight to Going Hollywood and The Long Haul whenever I have a moment to breathe and a want to engage with the world. If I were you, gentle reader, I’d start both blogs at the very beginning – you’ll be surprised how quickly and inexorably you’re drawn in to the climb with Rook and Bonesy (as Nick and Jessa call themselves), and how curious and alive the country seems through Adam’s eyes.
For me, their journeys (a bit more straightforward, at least geographically, than mine) are reassuringly measurable, covering actual, physical terrain, and both clear and promising in their unfolding. I highly recommend them both – especially for anyone in the midst of a personal journey right now. Which is all of us, hopefully.
by Matt Paley
Earlier today, Paul passed me an article by Bill Simmons (for ESPN’s grantland.com) concerning Hollywood, entitled “The Movie Star.” Now, Simmons might be the most famous contemporary sportswriter – he certainly is in Boston – but (to my knowledge) he is not also a film industry expert. But I do very much like his writing, and I’ll read anything recommended to me by Paul. Still, I wasn’t immediately sold when I read this paragraph early on:
Any sports fan knows he or she will be in situations (at a wedding, at a bar, at work, wherever) in which they’ll get into friendly arguments about things like “The Lakers should trade everyone but Kobe for Dwight Howard” and [you'll] sound like a fool if you aren’t prepared. That’s the real reason we suffer through talking-head shows, sports radio and all the crap online — not just because we’re addicted to being sports fans, but because we’re trying to learn material to use later for our own benefit. Being a movie fan doesn’t work that way.
Spoken like a sportswriter, no? I, surrounded by movie buffs, constantly read up on Hollywood and the film industry from as many perspectives as I can (in large part to avoid sounding like an idiot). Isn’t that why, after all, I was reading this article? But the larger point made was actually a good one: competitive sports, particularly with today’s complex (bordering on ridiculous) analysis, offer pretty good answers to questions of comparative success, or whether someone’s work is improving or declining, or which players are most essential to a successful outcome. Hollywood – particularly because many would argue that good and successful (using box-office return as the barometer) aren’t one in the same – offers much more spin and far fewer answers.
But here’s where Simmons got me: (more…)
by Matt Paley
Adolfas Mekas died yesterday, at 85. It’s easily to speak about what the film world –and the avant-garde in particular – has lost: co-founder of the seminal magazine Film Culture and NYC’s Anthology Film Archive (both with his older brother Jonas), the first film critic for The Village Voice, one of the great voices of the New American Cinema, a godfather of American experimental film. It’s just as easy to speak reverently about his work: his 1963 opus Hallelujah the Hills is one of the most joyous, poetic, absurd experiences you will ever have watching a movie, and I suggest you put it on your to do list. See Going Home (1971) too. But to me and many of the boys who contribute to Saint Eliot, Adolfas will always be, first and foremost, the de facto founder of Bard College’s scrappy, boisterous, anarchic Film Department, which came to be known during his tenure as “The People’s Film Department of Bard College.” It is still a department crafted in his image. His face (last I checked) still adorns the clock in the Film Office, his patron saint (St. Tula, Our Lady Of Cinema) still offers snarky aphorisms (“blame not broken equipment. Your vision may be too small to see what the broken camera sees” is a personal favorite) from forgotten corners of the film building. Ask you then where ‘Saint Eliot’ comes from? (more…)
by Matt Paley
Tim Hetherington died yesterday, killed by mortar fire in Misrata, where Libyan rebels are clashing with Muammar el-Qaddafi’s forces. Hetherington was traveling with Chris Hondros, Guy Martin, and Michael Christopher Brown (photojournalists all) at the time of the attack. All four photographers were wounded; Hetherington died first, and Hondros soon after. At the time of my writing, Martin is reported to be alive, in very serious condition; Brown is wounded but stable.
Hetherington was best known for Restrepo (2010), an intimate, lyrical, harrowingly visceral experience of war, which he co-directed with his longtime collaborator Sebastian Junger. Restrepo is a beautiful film; it’s also a film I’ll be unable to watch again.
I point, instead, to Diary, Hetherington’s last film work, which he uploaded to vimeo only three months ago. A dream-like meditation on the disparate worlds Hetherington moved between and his struggle to unite them, Diary appears now as an affirmation of all that Hetherington lived, and lived for. I won’t say any more about the work – I feel uncomfortable doing so, tonight – except to ask you to watch it.
From Hetherington’s vimeo page:
‘Diary’ is a highly personal and experimental film that expresses the subjective experience of my work, and was made as an attempt to locate myself after ten years of reporting. It’s a kaleidoscope of images that link our western reality to the seemingly distant worlds we see in the media.
Camera + Directed by Tim Hetherington
Edit + Sound design by Magali Charrier
19′ 08 / 2010
May we possess, as Tim did, the courage to live life in extremes, eschewing comfort for that which drives us; the dedication to push ourselves and our mediums to the very limits; and the strength to document with compassion, reserving judgement. Rest in peace.
by Matt Paley
We’re sorry we haven’t kept in touch (you look great, by the way). But while 2011 has, thus far, proved a year of bad communication, it’s proving to be a great year for work. Over the next few weeks, we’ll finally begin talking about Adam’s new short, Giampaolo’s Hollis Frampton opus, Jake’s new screenplay(s), Peter’s Kenneth Bowser project, Brian’s first festival appearance(!), and more. There are some structural changes coming to Saint Eliot as well; expect some changes to the website in the coming months, to reflect the changes brewing under the hood.
Today I have the pleasure of introducing my latest project (with Brian Barth and Skin Horse Theater’s Brian Dorsam), a four music-video cycle starring folk-rock goddess Devon Sproule, to be released with her upcoming album, I Love You, Go Easy. I’ll let the teaser do most of the talking for now; suffice to say, we’re very excited about the new album, about the project, and about the work to come.
by Matt Paley
I discovered the work of Claire Morgan, my computer tells me, on March 23rd, 2010. I know that as soon as I saw her work (via notcot.org, I’m sure), I wanted to share it — a whole folder of images I pulled onto my desktop attests to that — but, until now, I haven’t. Chalk it up to vanity; I must have felt that I didn’t have anything eloquent to add. Criminal, that. Ms. Morgan’s work must be shared.
Meticulously ordered, balanced, constrained, calculated, rhythmical, and yet – to my mind – organic, natural and transcendent. When looking at Claire Morgan’s work, there is, first, the stillness: an entire world frozen in time; fragile, impossible, uncanny, and not to be disturbed. And yet there is also the motion: a sense of wonder, fascination and beauty, of life, of chase, and very often of flight. (more…)
by Matt Paley
Beautiful. Robert Houllahan, our friend over at Cinelab, just had his video for The Low Anthem’s new single, Ghost Woman Blues, featured on NPR.org (see it here), and it’s something special.
The Low Anthem recorded their (soon to be released) album Smart Flesh in a big, cold, empty warehouse (actually an abandoned pasta sauce factory) in Rhode Island last winter. Rob hunkered down with them, with some 16mm and some 35mm, and set about documenting the experience.
I remember Rob showing me the footage, a few months later — it was easy to visualize a nice landscape piece coming out of it, with that beautiful New England winter quality of light — but I don’t remember Rob telling me what he intended to do with it.
I’m a little surprised how cohesive it all feels, now! When I saw the footage for the first time, I saw it as a diary of the light in the warehouse — and it is, still — but not an expression of a sound or a feeling. But I hadn’t listened to the music yet (Oh, that music!)
The occasional bursts of color are lovely, as are the often different speeds of the film. The imperfect sync on the performers, too, lends a floating, ghostly, out-of-time quality to the images — Rob isn’t encouraging us to feel any immediacy; we’re watching from far away — and he cuts to them at just the right times, because he knows we’re aching to see their faces.
But what’s really killer about the video is how he doesn’t linger on those beautiful tableaus. Many of them don’t get the time they deserve; Rob’s a restless (to the point of irresponsible) editor, and it’s not what we’ve been trained to expect. Yet the images do become distinct moments, and are given appropriate gravity, with his consistent fades to black. It’s a really surprising technique, and with the hurried editing, it pushes the video towards a different feeling, somewhere between really long takes of landscape footage (the way I might have done it) and really choppy MTV (the way most music video artists would have done it). The contrast serves that feeling, that slipping away, that they don’t make em like they used to that Rob is talking about.
by Matt Paley
For the past couple months, I’ve been working with a few of the funniest people I know (including company writer Peter Warren) on A Show About Us, a filmed sketch comedy show in the vein of Mr. Show, Kids in the Hall, and The State. The show is about three 20-somethings – Sasha, the L.A. transplant; Ken, the alpha male Celtics-fanatic; Christian, the sardonic prep-school kid – living together in Somerville, MA. Although the show is broad in scope (the actors also play the characters on their TV, for instance, as in the promo below), many of the sketches focus on their efforts to figure out Boston and for Boston, too, to figure them out.
The above summary makes it sound like the show is all dropped ‘r’s and references to Lansdowne street. Writing and speaking a lot about the show the past couple of days, I’ve felt the need to clarify my position on living and working in Boston. Even as Boston has become a more popular place to film, its pop-culture identity hasn’t matured. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with The Fighter, The Town, or The Social Network; it’s just that they all present Boston as one of the two popular cliches: a tough Irish neighborhood, or Harvard. A Show About Us – and every project I undertake — looks to poke and prod at these stereotypes. I (and I know I speak for the five Saint Eliot members that grew up in Boston) am very proud to be a Bostonian. Part of the impetus for Saint Eliot’s creation was the shared dream of living and working here; even as we disperse (Jake is off to New Orleans!), we constantly talk about a shared future in Boston, with a new wave of young artists committed to expressing our peculiar point of view. We believe that by telling the stories that matter to us — or, in this case, expressing what we find to be funny — we’ll add to a cultural conversation we’re hoping to grow here. That doesn’t always mean writing about Boston. It means writing from Boston.
It was my unexpected thrill yesterday to be invited to share this view on WBUR 90.9, Boston’s NPR news station. You can listen to my interview with Ken Breese (who writes for and stars in A Show About Us) and host Sacha Pfeiffer here.
A Show About Us has called Improv Boston home for the past few months; we’re delighted to finish our run with a big Holiday Extravaganza! finale at The Brattle Theater tomorrow night. (what’s that you say? you’ll be in the area tomorrow? well, come on by!) Shortly after, we’ll be launching a new home for our sketches online.
I’m new to directing comedy, and not that funny myself, so the creation of this show represented a huge step into the unknown for me. I want to take this chance to thank the absolutely wonderful Sasha Winters, Ken Breese, Christian Kiley, and Casey Regan (the show is about them), as well as Mike Salomon and Peter Warren, our incomparable wordsmiths, for making this initially horrifying prospect a truly joyful experience.
Below I’ve included our promo for the Brattle show. Enjoy!
by Matt Paley
I’m glued to my TV (with everyone else in Boston) watching the retooled Boston Celtics (now the old big three–or are they suddenly the big four?) play the new big three from Miami.
About 10 minutes ago–during the first commercial break–I got a big surprise when Nike unveiled their new Lebron James campaign. Playing on their eternal “Just Do It,” Lebron sat in the same chair–in the same shirt, in fact–that he announced his big (and ill-fated, from a marketing perspective) decision to join the Miami heat, and asked: what should I do? Should I admit I’ve made mistakes?
What followed was a real evisceration. Lebron stands at a podium under a Hall of Fame banner, in a totally deserted room. This went well, he says to the lone caterer. He watches his giant banner in Cleveland fall. Amidst some funny moments (Lebron imagines becoming an actor on Miami Vice, plays a villain in a cowboy film), Lebron speaks a lot of the things his critics (including myself) have been thinking.
“Rise,” as Nike has dubbed it, is a good move for Lebron–I’ll admit I’m impressed, and I’m a hater–and a better move for Nike, who so recently stunned the sporting world with their similar Tiger/Earl Woods commercial. Whomever is directing these ads is a true Don Draper–someone capable of extracting not just drama and complexity out of these superstars, but (what reads as) maturity. Lebron doesn’t look stubborn sticking to his guns OR pathetic asking for forgiveness. Instead, he asks the same question so many times–what should I do? what should I do? what should I do?–that by the end of the 30 second spot, we want what he wants– to put it all behind us. The message is clear, and the humor is an improvement on Nike’s Tiger Woods strategy, which, played straight, was melodramatic enough (Earl speaks from beyond the grave!) to strike many as a bit creepy.
The real winner here is Nike, who doesn’t have as much of a stake in Lebron’s likeability as they do in his marketability. This commercial is going to be talked about. And with all the talk–whether you forgive Lebron, or don’t, find it pandering, or find Nike to be profiteering–no one will deny that “rise” makes damn good television.
by Matt Paley
In September, I announced the upcoming release of I’ll Be Okay, the debut music video for the Boston-based hip hop group The Dean’s List. I promised a “delightful exercise in good pop: glossy, catchy, satisfying, sugary goodness.” After a month spent fine tuning and color correcting (with a little help–okay, a lot of help–from our friends over at National Boston Studios), I think we’ve delivered just that.
I produced I’ll Be Okay (with Ruchiki producer Liz Phelps) for music-video director Matt Pitkoff, who I’m excited to announce will guest-direct Ruchiki‘s own music video, Mermaid Princess. I’ll Be Okay will make its television debut on MTV networks in the coming month; check back in for more specific information soon.
by Matt Paley
My good friend and frequent collaborator Adam Goldman called me last night seeking editing help. His Final Cut Pro wasn’t working and he couldn’t make head or tail of iMovie (a program which has become utterly unintelligible in the last few years). Rather than stumble around iMovie with him, I offered to edit his brainchild myself.
I’m glad I did. It took all of 30 seconds and provided a needed dose of creative therapy.
If you’re like Adam and myself, you’ve been patiently slogging though the first episodes of HBO’s Boardwalk Empire, hoping that the show will suddenly hit its stride (and that the writing will miraculously improve) and live up to its obvious potential. But while I sat on my couch lamenting that Mad Men was nearing its Season 4 finale, Adam (ever proactive) developed a plan to improve HBO’s lackluster creation himself.
Without further ado, I offer you Adam’s alternate (obviously improved) title sequence for HBO’s Boardwalk Empire.
Check out Adam’s current blog, dear stupid blog, for more curiosities.
by Matt Paley
In August, I was thrilled to produce I’ll Be Okay, the debut music video for the Boston-based hip hop sensation (or soon-to-be sensation) The Dean’s List. Directed by my good friend Matt Pitkoff, the video, like the song, is a delightful exercise in good pop: glossy, catchy, satisfying, sugary goodness.
I’ll Be Okay represents something a little different for Saint Eliot, and we hope you like it. Here’s a little teaser; the full video will make its debut on MTV (and youtube, of course) in the next few weeks.
by Matt Paley
Apologies for the radio silence, gentle readers!
Summer has been a busy time for all of us at STE–a time spent settling accounts (as two of the boys graduated from college), reassessing work (as the first major Ruchiki shoot came to an successful close), and starting fresh (new projects in new places, with a few of us in new cities). We’ll be back up and running at full speed soon, but for now, let me kick off the coming fall with a happy announcement: Ain’t That The Way has started its festival run.
We’re looking forward to screenings at LA International Film Fest, Vegas Cine Fest, and Young Cuts Film Fest (and crossing our fingers for more), and we do hope, should any of you be in any of those fine cities on the nights in question, to see you there (more on the exact dates and times later).
We were especially excited to learn (in the same email that informed us of our acceptance, strangely enough) that the judging at LA International was complete, and that Ain’t That The Way had won Best Costume Design (Music Video), and had come in third overall in the Best Music Video category!
We hope you’ve had a lovely July and August, and are ready for an exciting fall. You’ll hear quite a bit more from us soon enough.
by Matt Paley
Inception (Christopher Nolan, 2010)
Leaving Inception yesterday, my cousin and I made for the Exit door immediately below the screen. Walking briskly down the subsequent staircase, we found ourselves finally at an Emergency Exit door that wouldn’t open. An architectural dead-end.
Inception–sort of a millennium generation answer to The Matrix– is about fantasy worlds within the mind, and the tenuous grip that people who indulge in fantasy maintain on reality. In the requisite exposition-heavy section of the movie, as Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Arthur (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) explain the rules of Inception‘s world to newbie dream-architect Ariadne (Ellen Page), they demonstrate how the architects of their brand of manipulated dreams cut corners through spacial paradoxes and architectural dead-ends. Much like the hidden limitations of a video game world, the horizon isn’t infinite. (more…)
by Matt Paley
I’ve spent the last few hours searching downtown for this.
by Matt Paley
We’re proud to announce that Adam Hirsch’s Faith Healer, one of the first Company shorts, is making the festival circuit beginning at the Geneva Film Festival (April 16-18)*.
You can stop by Geneva IL (about 20 minutes west of Chicago), and see Faith Healer at 3:00 on Fri. April 16 at Riverside Receptions or at 2:00 on Sat. April 17 at the Mill Race Inn. Adam will be there, likely wearing a tie and jeans–unless he’s nervous, in which case he’ll up the style with, I’d wager, a vest.
The full schedule of films is here on the Festival site.
It’s a small festival (30 films or so) so it’s a guaranteed good time. Everyone showed such support and enthusiasm when we screened last June at the Brattle, we’re hoping to replicate the experience out there in the midwest.
Hope to see you there!
*Screening twice! You have no excuse!
by Matt Paley
I just found this wonderful little video directed by Dewey Nicks of superstudio for Jade Castrinos (of Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros):
There’s something unexpectedly vital about the video that blooms out of Nicks’ decision to use layered live audio where most music videos just stick the studio recordings on top. It’s not the take-away show idea, either, which from the very start was a familiar idea–a stripped-down concert video. This is something new entirely: edited like a music video (which is to say, edited heavily), recorded like a take-away show, you get pulled in to the reverie of the song–eternal, omnipresent, out of time and space, whether you’re on the beach or in a park or getting in your car or following a toddler in a devil-jumpsuit down the stairs, the way a good piece of music lingers under your breath for a day, or a week.
by Matt Paley
Yesterday, NPR.org’s picture show blog featured the work of Kate Stone. I knew Kate at Bard, but had missed her thesis show; boy, am I grateful to NPR for cluing me in to what I’d missed.
In her most recent work, Kate explores a space with her camera, prints the photos, reconstructs the space in three dimensions, and then re-photographs the scene. In At The Seams, Kate disassembles and reassembles strangers’ houses, leaving doors poking out of the floor and fans reproducing across empty rooms. In Wunderkammer (which translates to ‘cabinet of curiosities’), the stuffed animals at a museum seem to step right out of their displays. (more…)
by Matt Paley
Devon Sproule’s lovely brand of sweet, sophisticated folk has been a constant companion of mine since high school. Her album Upstate Songs was the first music I ever felt was really mine, my own; music I listened to privately, and shared only after careful consideration, with people I thought might, somehow, understand.
I’m honored to call Devon a friend, and thrilled to announce Ain’t That The Way, our music video inspired by the first track off her upcoming album, ¡Don’t Hurry for Heaven!