Documentary Production Diary: Creative Filming in Andrew Carnie’s Studio, Winchester (Screengrab)
April 14, 2020
A chance to update my Documentary Production Diary .. Today I found myself back near familiar ground—filming in Andrew Carnie’s studio in Winchester, just a short distance from where I grew up.
As a documentary filmmaker, it was a rare and reflective moment: returning to a place tied to personal memory while documenting an artist deeply engaged in interpreting the complexities of epilepsy through his art. Carnie is developing a series of kinetic sculptures and cyanotype works inspired by the CANDO research project at Newcastle University, which explores an innovative treatment for epilepsy using optogenetics. This shoot marks the beginning of a larger documentary that will also feature artist Susan Aldworth, culminating in the dual-site exhibition “Illuminating The Self” at Vane and Hatton Galleries in Newcastle.
Capturing the Studio in Motion
Andrew’s studio is a light-filled space brimming with ideas. Sculptural sketches, print tests, and electronic components sit alongside glowing cyanotype prints and notebook scribbles. It’s a visualisation of the brain at work—fluid, interconnected, unpredictable. I begin filming wide shots to set the scene, then move in close, focusing on the detail: a soldering iron cooling, wires coiled neatly beside cut paper fans, the soft hum of kinetic sculptures in development.
Andrew is creating a series of sculptural installations that reference the neural patterns of epilepsy—oscillating between calm and chaos. In one piece, a row of USB-powered fans whir text into visibility, like subconscious thoughts emerging from turbulence. As he explains his concept—drawing on CANDO’s use of optogenetics to recalibrate brain activity—I shoot from low angles to capture the shadows thrown by spinning words on the wall. It’s the kind of poetic imagery that documentary filmmaking thrives on.
Conversations on Creativity and Science
We pause to record an interview. “The science is fascinating,” Andrew tells me. “But what I’m interested in is how it feels to live with epilepsy—to carry that experience in your body every day. That’s what I want the work to reflect.” His tone is thoughtful, and I let the camera linger after he finishes speaking.
He continues working, and I keep rolling. My Osmo Pocket 3 allows for fluid, silent movement through the studio space—capturing transitions between concept and form, research and reflection. One moment he’s laying out print material under UV lights; the next, testing responsive sculpture mechanisms triggered by motion.
This project is a perfect example of art and science collaboration—where the laboratory and the studio become intertwined spaces of exploration. Carnie is not simply illustrating scientific concepts; he’s translating them into visual metaphors that resonate emotionally and physically with viewers.
Filmmaking and Personal Resonance
Filming here, in Winchester, adds another layer for me. As someone who grew up nearby, I never imagined I’d return years later with camera kit and hard drives, documenting an internationally significant exhibition at the crossroads of art and neuroscience. It’s a reminder of how paths circle back—and how stories often begin closer to home than we realise.
My documentary filmmaking practice has always been driven by human stories—especially when they sit at the intersection of research, art, and lived experience. Projects like this are exactly why I do what I do.
Looking Ahead to “Illuminating The Self”
This shoot is the first of many. Soon, I’ll be filming Susan Aldworth in her studio, where she’s creating Out of the Blue—a cyanotype-based installation featuring Victorian garments embroidered with the words of people living with epilepsy. Together, these works form the basis of “Illuminating The Self,” a collaborative exhibition responding to the CANDO research project.
The exhibitions will open at Vane Gallery (17 January – 29 February 2020) and Hatton Gallery (18 January – 9 May 2020), showcasing how scientific advances in optogenetics can inspire new ways of seeing, understanding, and feeling.
Why This Matters
For the team at CANDO, the goal is to develop a new treatment using light to control epileptic activity in the brain. But for artists like Carnie and Aldworth—and for those of us behind the camera—the mission is broader: to translate complex science into something visceral, human, and moving.
As I pack down my kit and take one last wide shot of the studio, I’m reminded that good documentary filmmaking isn’t just about information. It’s about interpretation, emotion, and access. It’s about inviting the viewer to see what you see—and feel what you felt—at the moment the record button was pressed.