Cheryl Dunn is a New York City-based documentary filmmaker and photographer. Since the late 1980s she has spent a large part of her career documenting city streets and the people who strive to leave their mark there: graffiti writers, artists, skaters, boxers, bikers, protesters, and assorted characters.  

“Moments Like This Never Last” is screening at the 2020 DOC NYC film festival, which is taking place online from November 11-19.

W&H: Describe the film for us in your own words. 

CD: The film is a documentary about Dash Snow and the downtown art scene post-9/11. It’s a celebration of his radical presence that instigated ritual, community-building chaos to shake the contemporary art world.

W&H: What drew you to this story? 

CD: I have always documented artists around me, particularly early in their explorations of making and sharing work with the world. [The early stages are] such a precious time that can quickly change, especially in a city like New York where the art market inevitably takes hold and the innate joy of art making is mowed over.

I started filming Dash as a 19-year-old graffiti writer. He was special, he had a magical essence about him. He was an NYC wild child, a notorious vandal, and the sweetest guy. I kept up with what he was up to, filming and shooting together when we could. When he passed, the whole community was jolted into a seismic shift. 

There are people that come around only once in a while that alter the course of art history, become mythic figures, and sadly are sacrificed, so to speak, to save other lives in the community. Dash was one of these characters; he forever changed the downtown scene and I felt this was an important cultural story. 

W&H: What do you want people to think about after they watch the film? 

CD: I hope to give the viewer a 360-degree, visceral view into this era of NYC through the kids that were born there and those that were driven to [move there]. I want to give people insight into the seeds of art-making as it correlates to circumstances and events, and ultimately the dangers of art world commodification.

W&H: What was the biggest challenge in making the film?   

CD: Many people that I filmed and interviewed had never really reflected about Dash since his death, and it was very emotional for many of them and for me. And on the post-production side I went through a lot of editorial machinations. I had a many-month stint where I had to teach myself Avid to get to a rough cut. That was definitely rough.

W&H: How did you get your film funded? Share some insights into how you got the film made. 

CD: Once I got the agreement for the life rights, I started writing treatments. Dash was quite known in certain circles so people would ask me what I was working on, and those discussions would sometimes lead to leads that I would follow up on. 

It was tricky because I was being trusted to not make a sensationalistic story and some financiers were only interested in that. When I went to Vice, who was a part of and featured many people in this community, it was a natural fit and they immediately offered me a deal.

W&H: What inspired you to become a filmmaker?

CD: I started as a still photographer and still am. I have been shooting pictures since I was a young teenager. In my early 20s I went to Europe by myself and lived there for two years. I did not speak the language of the countries I was living in so sometimes I wouldn’t speak for weeks. I walked the streets, took pictures, and looked at art most of the time. My observational skills became quite keen because that is all I had, really. I would make up stories about people and what was happening in a scene and I guess this is when I really started to think about storytelling.

When I was given a chance to make a film professionally, it was very liberating. My still photographs have always been infused with motion and so breaking the frame was exciting, [as was] incorporating so many other things I love, like music, rhythm, and dance.  

W&H: What’s the best and worst advice you’ve received?

CD: Best advice about documentaries: don’t make a film about something that you can’t stay excited about for at least 10 years. 

The worst advice was from anyone that ever told me “you can’t do that” or “that is too dangerous for a girl.”    

W&H: What advice do you have for other female directors?

CD: Don’t dwell on the inequality of the film business and use that to empower yourself. Just make work all the time and put it in the world. There is an advantage and freedom sometimes to having less opportunities.

I know when I started as a still photographer, the scales of opportunity were so off-balance. I was not getting the fashion photography jobs that I was trying to get, so instead I did the documentary projects that were self-inspired, that came from my heart. In hindsight, I’m very thankful I did not get those fashion assignments. If I had, I would have an archive of outdated fashion pictures but instead I have a foundation of documentary work that only gains more resonance. 

W&H: Name your favorite woman-directed film and why.

CD: Well. I just watched “American Selfie: One Nation Shoots Itself” by Alexandra Pelosi. She is a one-woman powerhouse — she directed, produced, and edited [the film]. She is a fearless journalist and wears every hat. I really admire that because it often takes that to get things made. The film is disturbing and very important to see at this time in our country.  

W&H: How are you adjusting to life during the COVID-19 pandemic? Are you keeping creative, and if so, how? 

CD: I think it’s an amazing time for reflection, which is an important component to creative work. I suffer from FOMO and living in NYC, there is always an art opening to go to, a film opening theatrically, events, and dinners, so now that there is none of that I feel very content to stay in my studio and make work, write, read, and have more time to shoot on the street. 

A lot of artists apply for residencies to have quiet time in an off the grid place to make work — now, everywhere is an artist residency. Also, luckily, I have another film project that I have been shooting for 15 years and I can start to put it together in a calm, uninterrupted way.  

W&H: Recent protests in the U.S. and abroad have highlighted racism and anti-Black police brutality. The film industry has a long history of underrepresenting people of color onscreen and behind the scenes and reinforcing — and creating — negative stereotypes. What actions do you think need to be taken to make Hollywood and/or the doc world more inclusive?

CD: So much is about opportunities afforded. Truthful, firsthand stories can break down these stereotypes if those storytellers are allowed in the room to tell them. There need to be mandatory mentorships and more equal representation on crews. There need to be resources available to help those that do not come from a background of connections [so they can learn] how to get into the business or get their work in the world.

I am not really involved in the big Hollywood machine and how it works from the inside; I can only speak of my firsthand experiences. I know in my career that a few words of encouragement and simple guidance given to others has changed the trajectory of some young people’s careers and lives. And sometimes that small push can turn a ripple into a tidal wave.