The power of creative collaboration
At Clothesline Media, we assemble talented
and passionate teams to tell stories that will
be shared and saved.
I am, at heart, a storyteller.
My passion to uncover the human element that exists at the core of every story is the driving force behind the projects I undertake.
The beauty that surrounds us, the people that move us, these are the stories that I am inspired to tell. I am motivated by a desire to help build the economy of our region and to leave a legacy for the next generation.
I am an intense observer of the world around me. Others might judge me, at first, as ‘the quiet one.’ I am merely listening and evaluating, waiting for the right time to share my thoughts and finding the right way to express myself.
I craft words into stories that reflect upon our shared humanity. Evoking emotion long after the final page is turned brings me joy and feeds my soul. It’s my clothesline.
Director of Moving Pictures
Good stories, told well, are powerful, regardless of medium. They make us laugh. Cry. Think. They enrich our lives. Growing up, I always wanted to reflect on the world around me. I dabbled in poetry, prose, songwriting, graphic design and photography in search of my voice.
Then I tried filmmaking. Harnessing the power of images, sounds, music and voices to evoke emotion in a matter of seconds was a rush. I’ve never looked back.
I feel privileged when someone shares with me their story and trusts me to tell it to the world.
I was nine when I discovered a Kodak Brownie movie camera in my parents’ attic. I couldn’t believe it. I ran downstairs yelling “You own a movie camera?”
I grew up in rural Ontario and thought that I wanted to be a vet; film was just for fun. In high school a guidance counsellor suggested film. I said, “That’s a career?”
I immediately switched gears. I want to make people believe something and get so involved they get lost in it. That’s my clothesline.
Growing up in rural Nova Scotia, my friends and I spent endless hours around a bonfire on the Bay of Fundy rambling on about stories in our small world. I think this is where my passion for storytelling began but I didn’t realize this passion until my folks bought me my first camera. Immediately the camera became my favourite way to tell these crazy, hysterical and touching stories and I’ve been doing it ever since.
Well-crafted videos educate and inspire, helping people explore the world around them.
I started out thinking
I wanted to be a journalist. When I took the screen arts program at Nova Scotia Community College, my love for journalism and film met in the middle with documentaries.
Learning is my biggest motivator. I like being able to meet new people and learn about their experiences; their experiences become my experiences. I like working with a smaller group of passionate people who are not afraid of doing things.
As a kid, I was easily bored. Pair that with the isolation of growing up in semi-rural Newfoundland and you have the recipe for an overactive imagination. At first, I bounced between different mediums. Took up painting. Got bored. Moved on to theatre. Got bored. Moved on to journalism. Got bored. Discovered filmmaking. Got hooked.
The collaborative aspect of film is exciting. Every single person hosts a lifetime of experiences which colour their creative process. Working with a group to make something only your minds together could create and then documenting it artistically can never get boring.
My clothesline is an international clothesline.
The minute I walk into another culture and feel part of another world, that’s when I feel the most alive and vibrant.
I can’t pick a favourite project. In all my projects, people share a part of them with me; that’s like saying pick your favourite person in your life. I’ve never believed in objectivity in journalism; it’s a total myth. I don’t think it does the world any good to be objective. If it’s not personal, what’s the point?
I was always more of a writer than a filmmaker, writing scripts and short stories for fun. Occasionally, friends would go out with a camera and we would make up stories as we went along. I would find myself in front or behind the camera improvising bizarre tales. When I realized the camera could be a pen, it opened up a new way to write.
Now I plan and improvise stories using light, sound, locations, people and colour. Every once in a while I capture a completely unique moment that tops everything I've done before and it invigorates me to find the next one. The process is always spiritual for me.
Matthew A. MacDonald
Working with light and motion is a spiritual experience for me. Since I received my first camera when I was four years old, I have felt called by the power of images to help reveal what is beautiful and true.
This deep passion drives me in my work. In a word, I need to create.
For my first project,
I convinced my high school science teacher to let me make a movie. It became an epic - we shot for 15 days.
I was hanging out with friends but I had something productive to show for it.
I realized there’s nothing better than doing this.
Creating images is just this whole other language. You can make people feel what you want them to feel or think what you want them
Sound and Music
Ultimately I’m a musician but I’m also a writer, producer, arranger. I started playing guitar at age 11 and started touring at 21. It’s been a total evolution.
My clothesline is being creative. I’m a builder, whether it’s with my table saw or my microphone. Building a soundtrack and building a house are very similar. It’s a collaboration. You go through a creative process and you end up with something tangible.
For a good stretch of my early career, I sought out famous people to interview. There were war criminals (Hitler’s architect, Albert Speer), peacemakers (John and Yoko) and a slew of poets, writers and philosophers. I learned an immense amount. But I also realized that part of it was like gathering trophies.
Now that I’m older and have wised up some, I find the humbler stories of my neighbours are the ones I’m taken with: the weir fisherman, the woodcarver, the woman — or man — hanging out the laundry. The ones who make the everyday shine.