“Face of a Nation”: A Conversation with Mina Chow, AIA

Mina Chow, AIA

Expo 2020, in Dubai, is the next World’s Fair. Anyone have this on their calendar? I certainly did not. Until I spoke with Mina Chow, AIA, Senior Lecturer at the University of Southern California School of Architecture. She has spent the past 8 years eyebrow deep in the mystery that became the concept of America’s presence in the World’s Fair.

At one time, the Word’s Fair was not only large in concept, but in presence. Attending one was a vacation destination; the United States was always looked to for innovative, forward-thinking constructs, and the idealism was at its brightest. So, what happened?

Chow’s film, “Face of a Nation,” explores what did indeed happen to America’s presence at the highly recognized and regarded event. This 57- minute documentary depicts what she discovered and poses questions to all: the government, the American people, the architects. I watched it and was profoundly affected by the questions and why I as an American had lost touch with this behemoth event. Questions of identity began to cultivate and carve out personal space in my mind, but also where is our collective pride as a body of people—both in who we are and what we represent. Below is one of many conversations I had with Chow who faced the same quandaries.

1. This film was a work of passion spurring you on for nearly a decade. Tell us how it began and why.

In 2009, I was sent to China to make a short documentary for USC.  I was excited to see a poster for the 2010 Shanghai World Expo.  I had no idea World’s Fairs were still happening, and so I was determined to film the event the following year.  As a new filmmaker, I had just started learning how to direct and produce– and I wanted to make a good film. I had taken film classes in grad school, but I wasn’t a confident filmmaker without the degree. I thought since I taught at a university that had excellent film and journalism schools, if I could collaborate w/ experienced faculty—the quality of the film might be better.  

It didn’t start as a feature film.  The film began as an interdisciplinary short research film funded by 4 USC grants.  Our idea was to film “the real vs. the ideal” in the design of the National Pavilions.  We wanted to compare the architect’s “intent” vs. the user’s experience.  The architect’s intended ideas might be the same– or completely different from what the user’s experienced.  We started pre-production with this idea.  But after we started filming, I realized we had stumbled on something MUCH bigger… It was a “big idea” (or theme) that would not leave me alone… for 7 years.

I doggedly pursued this “big idea” that would not let me go—and of which I would not let go. When people ask me if the film is about architecture, I tell them the film uses architecture to tell a story of the erosion of the American image as the country loses sight of its vision and values.  We emphasize the role of architecture in national identity as a social issue about representation of the American people; and the importance of cultural diplomacy in our relationships to other countries.

But, trying to capture this visually and cinematically—just didn’t seem enough.  I sensed there was something more elusive— and also more powerful.  As I kept filming, I noticed Frank Gehry, FAIA, Barton Myers, FAIA, and others alluding to an almost palpable emotion.  It might be better to describe it as a “feeling.”  The film tries to capture a “feeling” of loss and hope.

2. You did not want to appear in the film, but it added a personal element I think was very successful on a few levels. What do you think?

Adding the personal element might be considered “successful” in some ways– but we also had to compromise on some ideals.  When we started our film, my understanding of documentaries was they were about important social issues using traditional expert interviews to make compelling arguments.  So that’s how we started making “FACE OF A NATION,” with expert interviews—and no personal story.

USC film school Prof. Norm Hollyn had started teaching me story and stylistic approaches.  In 2010 on the plane to Shanghai, we talked about what our approach might be.  I wanted to live up to certain ideals he provided:   AVOID telling a story with voiceovers.  AVOID putting the director in the film.  At the time, I didn’t know these ideals rely on excellent planning.  They also rely on wisdom and patience.  In other words, you really need to know what you are doing as a filmmaker.  And from the beginning, I didn’t know what I was doing. I STILL managed to follow these ideals for 4 years.  But to finish the film with a good story, I had to abandon them.

In architecture, we start with “concepts” or ideas, and turn them into tactile, human experiences of form, space and order:  to mark moments in time; and to elicit human emotion.  In film, we start with ideas, creating immersive experiences using characters and story:  to provoke thought; and to invoke human empathy.  They are powerful when “conflict” or “opposition” is expressed in form, space and order, or in character and story.  They are powerful when they engage the user’s emotion or an audience’s empathy.  Visceral, emotional works are the most powerful.

In 2012, I felt a stab in my heart when a family member said to me, “I don’t want my government to be spending my taxpayer money on a stupid building at a World’s Fair.”  I realized then– how badly our profession justified what we did.  If my own family didn’t understand— then maybe I was part of the problem.   I began self-examining the intellectual “ivory tower” in which I lived, and our profession’s elitism.  I started learning about engaging our emotions.  Over time, I made the film a love letter to my family and America.  It’s an appeal to all those who don’t understand us– as creative people.  And it’s dedicated to all of America’s creative people.

In 2013, I met my producer, Mitchell Block, who asked me, “Why should I watch this film?” “If I’m not an architect or designer—why should I care?”  “Who got hurt?” “Who are the villains?”  I answered: “You should care because you’re American!”  “American architects got hurt!”  “The villains are complicated!”  He said, “You need to answer these questions to make a go­­­­od film.”

By 2014, I was exhausted and willing to do ANYTHING to finish the film.  We had cut together enough to sense it was actually taking shape.  And I was learning a lot.  I was learning slowly over time– about what makes a good story.  A good story is personal with universal human themes. Personal details make stories authentic. What is personal is what Is familiar, and it’s what we know.  When we started the film, I had no deep understanding of story—except in the basic terms we learn as children. 

I was learning about the importance of film characters—not just in fictional films, but also in documentaries. We had REAL and compelling characters like Jack Masey, Barton Myers, and Barry Howard speaking passionately– and from their heart about their experiences. 

I was learning about “cinema verité,” “direct cinema” or being “a fly-on-the-wall” as a documentary stylistic approach that seemed more like documenting real life authentically.  Authenticity was—and still is very important to me. 

I also was learning about good writing.  Mitchell asked me to work with writer (Michael Rose) who asked me, “Why would you work on a film for 4 years—and not pay yourself?”  I mentioned the journalists who said I’d uncovered an important, untold story.  Then he asked, “How did you get interested in World’s Fairs in the first place?” I blurted out, “My mom and dad got engaged at the 1964 NY World’s Fair.  When I was 12-yrs old, they showed me their pictures there– and that’s when I wanted to become an architect.” 

THAT’s when I started crying… It was the moment I realized that “I” was the American architect who got hurt.  As the child of immigrants, I grew up hearing this was the best country in the world—and how lucky I was to be born here.  I grew up patriotic with perhaps an over-inflated sense of American exceptionalism.  The country that my parents came to as immigrants to start their new lives with the freedom and hope that inspired millions of immigrants—was also the country that appeared not to believe in me– as a creative, and as an American architect.

For years, filmmakers had been saying I should be in the film—because I was so passionate about the subject.  I ignored what they said because already, I was the director.  And I was struggling with inner demons not to “show off” or be self-promotional.  It took 4 years for me to understand that what was personal to me was WHY I cared.  And that I needed to make audiences FEEL and EXPERIENCE why I cared so much. 

Then the REAL work began.  As the director, I had to dissect which details of the character “Mina’s” life served the BIGGER story—JUST AS I was going through my own catharsis.  It was an emotional roller-coaster; with painful highs and lows of self-analysis.  But this was not a fun ride.  And it was potentially hazardous to the film’s best interests.  As a director, I had to be impartial; figuring out which personal details worked for the film, and cruelly cutting out huge swathes of my own story—just as I was learning about them.  No director wants audiences to “roll their eyes” because the director’s catharsis works its way into the film.  Directors craft story for audiences to experience their own catharsis.  It’s a fine line.

Thankfully I had team members who were blatantly honest about which elements of my personal story might induce the “eye-roll.”  I was lucky to have an excellent film team willing to tell me what they thought– truthfully.  It is absolutely essential to have people who are honest with you because they care about making a good film. 

3. What sort of comments have you received since the release?

People get emotional–including my family. In Sonoma, I was stopped on the street by at least a dozen strangers who thanked me for capturing something they’d been feeling for a long time.  A lot of people offered help to lobby Congress for change.  Some people think Congress will never change about the issues we bring up in the film.  But the only choice I have is– to hope.  After all– what ELSE is there?

We sold out at the ADFF DC at the National Building Museum.  We got a standing ovation at the ADFF LA.  Screenings have been well-attended.  I was happy to get into (3) of the Architecture and Design Film Festivals (ADFF) in New York City, Washington, D. C., Los Angeles, but when we got into the 21^st Annual Sonoma International Film festival (SIFF)–one of the top 25 film festivals (rated by Movie Maker magazine)—I was so ecstatic.  It meant we hadn’t failed.  We had succeeded in reaching beyond the design profession. 

The film has caught the attention of the State Department; affecting change in their Expo bid process by clarifying U.S. law, and requiring all bids to address American architectural excellence.  We are in dialog with the State Department to license the film and there are multiple offers to screen nationally and internationally.

4. What is next on your agenda?

We also just completed our 10^th screening since world-premiering at ADFF NYC on Nov. 3, 2017. We screen in Pittsburgh this Thursday, May 24, 2018.  It’s turning out to be a busy year.  We are arranging screenings throughout various AIA chapters, and other venues are being scheduled. Please follow our website to stay tuned for screenings in your area (www.faceofanationmovie.com).

5. What would you recommend people do about America’s absence in the World’s Fair?

Absence can be a problem.  It’s not good to be invisible.  If you think this film has made its case, then please contact your congressperson, and ask them to support American participation at World’s Fairs.  Ask them to support American excellence in creativity in our participation.