A few months back, Feast and Field approached me about producing some content for a series about bees and honey making. The project would focus on the honey making process over at Fat Head Farms, a really cool husband and wife duo that have been in the beekeeping game for generations. An editor at Feast and Field had seen some of my work that I produced for my documentary food series, Midwest Food Stories, and hired me to produce some similar content for their project. They needed a 3-5 minute video piece, stills from our fun farm adventure, and then some stills from a recipe shoot that I produced at my studio.
The first leg of this project took place at Brian and Kathy Suchan’s farm located in the rolling hills of Colfax County, Nebraska. We designed it to work in the afternoon/early evening to hopefully cheat some of the harsh midday summer sun. It was definitely a warm one, especially considering we needed to wear long sleeves and pants to keep the bees out of our business. Within minutes of arriving, I knew that these were my people. Super laid back and extremely passionate about what they do. We got a quick tour before we started getting cameras set up. My long-time friend and partner in many photographic crimes, Matt Pekula, was along for the ride on this one to help me get all the goods. After a quick tour of their incredible barn house, which some people now call barndominiums (I refuse to call them that), we checked out the turn-of-the-last-century farm house that is now the headquarters for their bottling, packaging, and shipping processes. The interior design of both their home and the farm house were simply incredible, fusing antiques with rustic woods and modern touches. I loved all of their spaces. Such a great overall vibe on this farm, from the houses, to the great collection of old structures, barns, and gardens.
After a quick interview session for the video component, we hit the road to check out a nearby bee colony. A quick 10 mile drive through the beautiful country side and we arrived at our destination. You could instantly hear the hum of activity in the air. We geared up and silently observed Kathy and Brian as they methodically went through the process of checking the health and status of each of the bee boxes. I quickly realized the quirkiness of trying to focus my lens while looking through a bee keeper’s veil. We didn’t wear any gloves so we could work with our cameras, but the bees didn’t seem to care at all about us. I remember one time I was filming bison from a very close distance on a ranch in the Sandhills and the rancher asked me if I was scared or intimidated to be that close to them. I thought about it for a little bit and then realized that I’ve found myself in very similar situations many times throughout my career and the reality is that I’ve gotten pretty good at reading the body language and demeanor of the people around me that I’m working with. If they are calm and relaxed within an environment, then I am too. If I can read some sort of worry or discomfort within a particular situation, then I’m typically on high alert and ready for action. I always do my best to be aware of everything happening around me and make sure to look away from the camera often so that I don’t miss anything. So, in this situation, my hosts were very relaxed and seemed incredibly happy to be working with the bees, so I was too.
I absolutely love the image of the leather gloved hand holding onto the the hive tool and the antique smoker…on top of the weathered boxes. The light, the textures. A very simple image that tells such a great story. And I love the logo on the smoker. This was handed down to Brian by his father…and I believe it was handed down to him by his father as well. I flew the drone over them working the boxes for a little bit and was so pleased and content with the moment. Everything about it was perfect…the blue sky with perfect clouds diffusing the sun. I always feel at peace on a farm or a ranch or in a field witnessing people work the land. I was at a farm near Duluth, MN last week and I had planned to get there right before sunrise to get some images of the farmers working in the early morning light. There was a lot of fog that morning coming off of Lake Superior and it was simply gorgeous. Not at all what I expected, but that is usually the nature of things. Watching that farmer walk across a pasture into the the fog surrounded by pigs was a beautiful site.
When the work was done, we headed back to the farm. Gathered a few shots around the homestead and then Kathy asked if we wanted a snack and a beer. Best question ever. We went inside the house for an incredible spread of cured meats from my favorite butcher shop, Cure Cooking in Fort Calhoun, local cheeses, honey, of course, and a nice arrangement of sidekicks.
Incredible people. Incredible honey operation. Incredible day. Fat Head Farms is named after their bulldog…actually, they have three bulldogs, so we had some fun hanging with those dudes before we headed home. They wanted to eat the drone, hence the pretty amazing bulldog jumping shots we were able to capture. The light around the property as we were leaving was incredible, so we got a few more images on our way. They have a huge pollinator “garden”. I threw those awesome quotes on there because it’s more like an entire acre + field than a garden. The bee activity around this field of wildflowers was out of this world. Kathy had some great ideas for having pollinator gardens, even if one has a very small yard or even no yard at all. Our conversation inspired me to put more effort into creating pollinator spaces on our property next year.
Back in the studio, I teamed up with Cathy Curtis, a legendary chef/instructor, and Anna Hartman, a skilled writer of all sorts of delicious content. Cathy was hired by Feast and Field to create recipes for a few honey-focused dishes including a salad, salmon dish, and a cocktail. Another fantastic day collaborating with super talented people.
Here’s the video piece that we produced for Feast and Field about the honey making process at Fat Head Farms.
