Sammi Cohen: A Few of My Favourite Things

I’m constantly relocating as a filmmaker, but everywhere I go, I like to create a workspace that feels like home. 

A creative workspace for me is alive. It’s a living, breathing, constantly evolving mood board that inspires my creative process and reflects who I am.

When I travel for work I tend to model work spaces after my home office. 

No matter where I am, there are certain things that I like to keep with me that are reminders of where I come from, where I’m going, and what I’ll always carry with me. 

The Viewfinder

There are objects that I’ve carried with me from childhood into adulthood that feel like little fortune-telling totems. Cherished tchotchkes that I loved for reasons I didn’t understand at the time but now see so clearly. Items that made me view the world differently. 

When it comes to my first viewfinder, I mean that quite literally. 

My first viewfinder is one of my most prized possessions. It once sat on top of an old camera that belonged to my grandfather. Now it sits on top of my desk. My grandfather passed away before I was born so I never got to know him personally but I did get to know him through some of the things he left behind. One of those things was an old vintage camera. There was this little viewfinder that snapped onto the top of the camera. The camera didn't work anymore but the viewfinder required nothing more than my eyes and imagination. 

I took the viewfinder and kept it with me. I was fascinated by it. It was the first time I remember looking through any kind of “lens”. The basic function of a viewfinder empowers you, putting you in the driver's seat. It was exciting to have this new ability to focus solely on the parts of the world that I wanted to focus on. It sparked a kind of curiosity in me that lit a creative fire. 

In a practical sense, the viewfinder taught me about lenses and aspect ratios. It taught me the power of framing, how you can get lost inside an image, and how the rest of the world falls away when you’re focused on telling a story. 

More importantly, it allowed me to start seeing the world in a brand-new way. It also allowed me to feel less overwhelmed by a world that I wanted to explore, focusing on one thing at a time. When you’re looking through a lens, your entire world becomes that one image. In that way, everything outside of the frame feels less overwhelming. I think looking through that viewfinder also made me connect to the world in a deeper way. It inspired my love for filmmaking, for curating a series of moving images in a way that feels emotional. On a technical level, my viewfinder taught me what a close up looks like. 

On a deeper level, it taught me what a close-up feels like. As a kid, it felt like magic. As an adult, I keep my viewfinder with me as a reminder of the magic. 

Today, this viewfinder isn’t a practical item; it’s a relic from the past. A toy. A reminder of who little Sammi was and what excited them. 

I believe that as kids we are innately more hopeful, raw, emotional, curious. Keeping myself connected to that younger part of me keeps me from losing the things that I believe make me a better storyteller. It’s also a reminder to keep having fun and always stay curious.

The Splicer

I was lucky enough to edit my first few films in college using this 16mm film splicer. I didn’t know it at the time, but my class would be the last to use the film equipment at my school. 

When I graduated, the film program ushered in a new era of digital filmmaking and got rid of all of the old film equipment. That’s how I ended up with the splicer. 

It doesn’t serve any practical purpose these days, I just love looking over and seeing it on my bookshelf. 

It reminds me of my first love: editing.

I would never have fallen so deeply in love with directing if I hadn’t loved editing first. It informs every part of my creative process. Editing feels like a secret weapon, it’s like x-ray vision for directors. They say that in hindsight everything is 20-20. Once you have all of the pieces you can see what you didn’t need… what you need more of... 

As a director, when you start to think like an editor, your hindsight becomes foresight. 

After college it wasn’t my degree I put on display in my office, it was my 16mm film splicer. It’s a piece of my own personal history that fits into the larger picture of film history. It reminds me I’m a small part of something much bigger. It reminds me to never stop thinking like an editor. 

And, simply put, it just makes me happy.

The Pens and Notebooks

Writing with a pen you love in a notebook you love is like wearing the perfect pair of jeans: it feels great, your sense of style immediately improves, and you’re inspired to buy as many as possible in case they stop making them. 

That’s why I have a drawer full of Le Pens and a shelf full of Gallimard notebooks. 

I carry at least one with me at all times.

As much as I rely on computers and technology as a part of my creative process, nothing beats a pen and paper. In a world full of technology, things feel easily erased, forgotten, and lost amidst an intangible cloud. 

There’s something I like about the permanence of writing - the physical storage of notebooks. There’s more intention to it. It’s nostalgic and timeless at the same time. Pen and paper will never go out of style. They will always be accessible. They are reliable and self-sufficient. They also force you to slow down. 

While I can appreciate the speed and ease of a computer, I like that writing with a pen and paper is a more gradual process. When I slow down, I find that I connect more to the words I’m writing. It allows me to be present. Something is grounding about the tactile nature of it. It feels more intentional, more focused, and, in some ways, much more freeing. 

When I’m working, pen-in-hand, I tend to ebb and flow between writing and sketching doodles, camera diagrams, and designs. 

Paper feels more like a blank canvas to express and explore an idea in all of its forms.

The Headphones

Music is something that moves and inspires so many people. I am no exception to that rule. 

As a kid, I learned to play the drums. I grew up with a jukebox machine in my kitchen. Music is such a big part of who I am. 

There is rhythm in everything I do. Listening to music feels like breathing to me. It’s something I need to do to stay alive (creatively speaking).

For me, sound is energy. It conveys tone, elicits emotions, and drives creativity in a number of different ways. I listen to music to feel inspired, to calm down, to rev up, to tune in, to tune out. I use it as a way to connect with things I want to connect with and disconnect from things I want to disconnect with. 

Sometimes, I turn on music as a way of turning off the rest of the world so I can focus on my work. 

That’s where my noise-cancelling headphones come into play. I bring them with me everywhere. 

They almost feel like a security blanket. Safe and in sound, wherever I go.