[Gear Geek Alert: This post concerns the logistics of multimedia news production and has only marginally to do with China or any other topic of interest to normal people.]

When the video editors at the Wall Street Journal called last month asking for a video to go with a print story on the dangers of electronic bicycles (a.k.a. e-bikes), it gave me a chance to do something that I’ve been aching to try for quite some time: Mount thousands of dollars’ worth of somebody else’s camera equipment to a moving vehicle.

Lest anyone accuse me of recklessness upon reading further, it’s important to note at the beginning that this was not the original idea. The original idea had been to profile someone who’d had a serious run-in with one of the bikes (China recorded more than 2000 e-bike-related deaths, and thousands more injuries, in 2008). Then the editors decided to take the print story in a more tongue-in-cheek direction and suddenly I was tasked with doing something “funnier.” And so the decision was made—I had no choice, you see—to slap some cameras on one of the bikes and force the print reporter to ride it around in Beijing’s sub-freezing weather while providing play-by-play (or, rather, street-by-street) commentary.

Like a lot of first video experiences, this was a tremendous amount of fun, and highly instructional.

The first issue was what camera to use. Much as I would have loved to put the bureau’s 3-chip CCD camera into play, it soon became clear that e-bikes were indeed accident prone, and in the end, I decided it might be less-than-wise to risk losing a $4000 piece of gear for the purposes of a 3-minute video. Luckily, the bureau had an older Sony Handycam lying around, the loss of which, although unfortunate, would not be tragic.

But because we wanted two shots—one of the reporter riding the bike, and one showing what the reporter was seeing—we needed another camera. Enter the Zi-8, a pocket-sized HD gadget Kodak rolled out last year to compete with the likes of the Flip. WSJ is testing the Zi-8 as a tool for its print reporters to capture simple interviews with news makers (CEOs, government officials, etc), but its size and affordability made it an attractive option for this as well.

The second issue: How to attach the cameras to the bike?

The Internet is full of ideas on how to do this, some of them beautifully simple and some (like this steadycam mount) seemingly beyond the pale. None were an option in this case 1) because the bike in question was shaped like a scooter, with limited bar space on which to screw a genuine mount; and 2) because we were working on a tight schedule.

So I was forced to use what I had on hand: a Joby Gorrillapod, some packing tape and a cheap bungee-like cord bought for a buck at the convenience store down the street.

Here was the final product:

Handycam and wireless mic receiver, mounted to handlebars with Gorillapod. and bungee cord.

Handycam-rig secured with packing tape.

[More images, plus verdict, after the jump:]

Kodak Zi-8 w/ mini-tripod, mounted using tape.

Finished e-bike rig, reporter's-eye view

Precarious-looking, I admit. But it held up relatively well. The Gorillapod was surprisingly robust, and the tape and bungee cord held fast. There was a frightening moment when the quick-release mounting plate under the Handycam loosened, which sent the camera rotating sideways, but there was never any danger of the whole thing coming loose. Next time, I’ll just make sure to tighten that plate all the way.

The real problem came from the cameras themselves, particularly the Zi-8. Almost all of the footage from that camera (and some from the Handycam) suffered from the rolling shutter effect—a defect of the CMOS sensors used in smaller digital video cameras that can cause the picture to skew and wobble when the camera is vibrating or moving quickly. The effect on the brain of the person watching such images is decidedly unpleasant. In the case of the Zi-8 on this shoot, it was positively nauseating.

Luckily, increasing the playback speed–something I’d planned to do anyway–mitigates the puke-factor a little, as does watching on a little Web-sized screen (which you can do below). For anything bigger or slower, though, I’m not sure this is the way to go.

This one’s been a long time in coming. Abby is one of that rare but thankfully growing species of artist bridging the Pacific from West to East. She’s probably most famous in the US for her collaboration with Bela Fleck (who appears in the video), but she’s better known over here as the girl who actually, against all odds, made Mandarin bluegrass work. I originally filmed this in August for the Wall Street Journal, but it got lost in the post-Olympics, pre-Election shift away from China coverage. Luckily the GlobalPost took to the story and decided to put it up.

Abby makes a powerful argument both for and against “world music” (a genre I have to say I’ve never much liked): “It’s such an interesting phrase…because it really represents fusion music. It’s about taking this aspect of Arabic culture and this aspect of Eastern European culture [and throwing them together], whereas I think the future of global music is in having human beings spread across two cultures, or several cultures, and combining the music internally before it even comes out.”

I certainly hope so.

Enjoy.

Her website is here. And the website for Casey Driessen, the mind-blowing fiddle player who also appears in the video, is here.

I’d originally meant to post this photo on my “Reporter’s Notebook” (read: blog) over at GlobalPost, but then the post morphed into a story and the editors decided to go with more dramatic art. It’s true, I arrived a tad too late to see the real explosions. It was tremendously entertaining nonetheless (Note: I can say this without being an asshole because no one died, or at least, we think no one died, and anyway these days there’s a seems to be a sort of karmic justice in a building intended solely for the filthy rich going up in flames).

For those who want the full photographic story, fellow resident alien Caroline Killmer, who lives near the now crispy Rem Koolhaas creation, has a fine set of pics on her photoblog. She also posted a brief (but vivid) video to CNN’s iReport.

More of my photos here.

As a multimedia reporter, I admit I am occasionally given to bouts of smugness. I may get no respect from the grizzled guardians of old journalism, I tell myself in these moments, but I am the vanguard, the future—-the intrepid journalistic do-it-all wading into the torrent of 21st century technology to bring the world a new form of storytelling.

Or not, as it turns out.

This past Saturday was the last official day of China’s Spring Festival vacation. To mark the occasion, I went to Ditan Park in the northeast corner of old Beijing to catch the last day of the Spring Festival Temple Fair. I went with the vague hope of catching a Beijing Opera performance, which my neighbor told me was available this year. Instead, after twenty minutes jostling my way through the crowds, hands held boxer-like in front of my face to protect myself from the inflatable animals people were wielding like spears, I ran into the man pictured above, whose name (according the placard in the picture) is Chen Qihuan and whom I now humbly respect as a professional forebear.

Chen is among the last performers of something called layangpian (拉洋片，or “pulled movies”), one of the “Eight Great Curiosities of Tianqiao”—a genre of traditional entertainment I’d never heard of before but which apparently was quite popular a hundred years ago. The centerpiece of layangpian is a large box with peepholes cut into the front, through which the audience watches a series of slide-mounted paintings manipulated by an invisible pulley system in back. The entire thing is operated by one person, who stands on a stool to the side of the box using one hand to manipulate the pulleys and the other hand to play the cymbals, all while narrating the story in a delightfully crude mixture of song and poetry. In other words, a turn-of-the-century audio slideshow.

My Mandarin wasn’t good enough to catch the particulars of the story–something evergreen about the Boxer Rebellion and the effort to cleanse China of foreign devils–but his pitch to the crowd was clear enough: “It can’t compare to a modern movie. It’s not that entertaining. But it’s a hell of a lot cheaper.”

Indeed.

More photos from the temple fair available here.

Managed to get this little slide show up on the GlobalPost site just in time for Chinese New Year and the inevitable train scandal mayhem. Significantly, the photos come from a trip I took to Chengdu in December, on a train filled with people who’d decided to head home a month earlier than usual. There turned out to be two major reasons: 1) to avoid getting caught up in the aforementioned mayhem; and/or 2) to avoid getting swept out to sea in the financial crisis.

The fact that the global economy’s recent faceplant has forced hordes Chinese people to head home early isn’t news, but I think (or hope, at least) the photos shed some additional light on the story. As always, I invite your feedback. (Check out the full-sized version here and higher resolution versions of the photos here)

My first report for them is a video on how people in Beijing see the United States in light of Barack Obama’s election victory, part of a series called “For Which It Stands” outlining the international challenges Obama will face once he takes the oath. Have a gander and let me know what you think:

As this video suggests, my tenure as a hired gun on the Wall Street Journal’s Olympics video team is essentially over. Three weeks lugging a camera around Beijing by day, staring dry-eyed and drooling at a computer by night…If only I were a full employee, I’d have the health insurance to pay the team of chiropractors and opthamologists I’m going to need to turn me back into a functioning human being after I pack up my gear and drag it back home.

Having said that, the pain had its pay-offs: We managed to produce 27 videos, more by far than any other US newspaper. And I now have a much clearer sense of what a strange dance these American titans of print are doing with multimedia. I’ll try to write more on that score after I’ve had a chance to recover…

Another video done in cahoots with Loretta from the Wall Street Journal. This one covers a book, Civilized Etiquette (文明礼仪), supposedly distributed to all Beijing residents four years ago as part of an effort to keep the city from embarassing itself in front of foreign guests during the Olympics. The book got a lot of play, including on the WSJ website, in the pre-Olympics coverage.

One part of the book that didn’t get much coverage was the fashion chapter. We thought it was a bit dubious for a government led by men in ill-fitting suits and clunky gold wire-frame glasses to be telling others how to dress, so we decided to do a story on it. Enjoy.

Having said that, anyone with a genuine interest in the problem will sooner or later want to click over to Clearing the Air, launched by the Asia Society this week.

Full disclosure here: I am the recipient of Asia Society funds and consider some of the people who worked on this project my friends. And I am proud of those friends, because they have done what my brother the delightfully pithy ski coach/art teacher would describe as a “kick-ass job.”

Why such high praise? The site opens with a highly produced mini-documentary from the multi-media rock stars over at MediaStorm featuring photos from Natalie Behring (definitely one of the most kick-ass photographers working in China at the moment) and an interview with Orville Schell (whose kick-ass fund-raising skills have helped financed this and many other a valuable projects). Beyond that, it provides a nice little summary of the issue with definitions of mysterious terms like “blue sky day” and “API,” some links to resources, and——the feature that truly puts the boot to the government’s hindquarters——a monthly calendar of air pollution levels made with photographs taken from the window of a single Beijing apartment building [see screen shot above].

Minus a few days here and there, the calendar (called “Room With A View”) visually documents the air in Beijing every day from April of last year to the present. Click on a day in the calendar and a full-size image of that day’s pollution pops up in the main screen, making it convenient for anyone outside Beijing to check on government claims of blue skies. The calendar also has pop-down menus with links to the best and worst days, plus a list of the days on which pollution climbed or fell the most. (Interestingly, the greatest changes all appear to happen in May and December…)

For those people smart enough to live elsewhere, this is as close as you’ll get to experiencing the pollution that blankets Beijing without actually having to breathe it. For the rest of us, the combination of the photos with statistics on average pollution levels and official blue sky day counts confirms all too vividly the sacrifice our lungs make so that we make partake in the madness.