From vault to vision: What SXSW reminded me about the work that still matters

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After joining a panel at SXSW on preserving film history with AI, Iron Mountain VP Andrea Kalas shares what the conversation reinforced for her: digitization is urgent, AI is a toolkit not a replacement, and the archive is more strategically valuable than most organizations realize.

Andrea Kalas
Andrea Kalas
VP, Media & Archival Services
March 13, 20267  mins
SXSW 2026

I've spent my career trying to get things out of the vault. Not physically, but conceptually — pushing back against the idea that once something goes into an archive, it's gone forever. The Raiders of the Lost Ark image always stays with me: that impenetrable warehouse, the sense that whatever's inside will never be found again. In fact, archivists and librarians have done wonders providing access despite backlogs and resource constraints — and with AI, their work is in many ways finally being rewarded.

It's what made the panel I joined at SXSW, "From Vault to Vision: Preserving Film History with AI," feel like a conversation that's been building for thirty years. Joined by my friends and colleagues Violeta Hennessy from Paramount and Carin Forman from AWS, we spent an hour talking together about the exciting ways that AI can be a force for good in bringing an archive back to life. I came away with a few things I want to share, because I think there are practical takeaways here for anyone managing collections of moving images, audio, or media in any form.

The digitization problem is not solved. It's not even close.

One of the first things we addressed is something the industry has a tendency to gloss over: only about 20% of the world's video content has been digitized. That number should stop people in their tracks. The rest is on physical media, much of it deteriorating right now, on a shelf somewhere.

Acetate-based film, which covers essentially everything made between 1950 and the late 1990s when digital production began to take hold, is at a particularly alarming inflection point. At a certain stage of deterioration, the process accelerates. It's called autocatalysis. Once it reaches that point, there's very little you can do. This is not a theoretical future risk. It's a present, active emergency for a lot of collections.

Magnetic media has its own challenge. The reason digitizing videotape and audiotape is so complicated is that there's no way to extract the content without using the original playback equipment. Imagine having to use a vintage typewriter every time you needed to scan a document — that's the equivalent of what's involved here. What that means in practice is that anyone doing this work at scale has a warehouse full of vintage playback machines, sourced from eBay, museum closets, and industry connections, maintained by engineers who understand both the technology and the media well enough to know what good output sounds and looks like. That expertise is irreplaceable, and like the equipment itself, it's disappearing.

The window to act is small and closing fast. If you manage a collection and you've been treating digitization as a future priority, this is the moment to revisit that calculus.

Andrea Kalas on why digitizing magnetic media is more complex than most people realize.

SXSW Andrea
Digitization is the beginning, not the end.

What Violeta shared about Paramount's archive work illustrated something I've believed for a long time: digitizing an asset and making it usable are two different things. The film goes into the cloud. Now what?

The answer Paramount built was an AI-powered search tool that uses vector embeddings to make millions of minutes of footage semantically searchable. Not searchable by keyword, by metadata tag, or by whatever someone remembered to type into a catalog field years ago. Searchable by meaning. What made that possible was a chain of partnerships: Iron Mountain handled the digitization, AWS provided the cloud storage, and Paramount built the search capability on top of that foundation. It's a good illustration of how this kind of work actually gets done — no single organization does it alone.

The practical result was significant. A 240-minute compilation project that previously took a team 32 hours to complete was done in eight. That's not a marginal improvement. That's the difference between a task that bottlenecks a workflow and one that doesn't. The creative teams embraced it so quickly that Paramount eventually integrated the tool directly into Adobe Premiere and Photoshop, so users never had to leave their creative session to find what they needed.

That's the shift I find most exciting, and most important to understand clearly. The archive stops being a place where things are stored and becomes a resource that creators actually reach for — rediscovering material and finding creative ideas inspired by content they didn't even know they had.

It's time to listen to the archivist in your organization when they say that time is running out.
AI is a toolkit, not a replacement for humans.

One of the most important things Carin said during the panel, and I want to repeat it because it gets lost in a lot of AI conversations, is that none of this replaces creators. It extends what creators can do.

The Sunset Boulevard restoration is a good example. We went back to that film because the best surviving audio element had accumulated significant hiss — a result of both the element's age and being multiple generations away from the original recording. We'd done our best with a previous restoration, but we knew the audio still wasn't right. When I saw what Peter Jackson's company, Park Road Post, had done with the audio separation work on Get Back, separating previously inaudible voices from ambient studio noise, I called them.

What came back was not just a cleaned-up track. They separated the audio into discrete stems: music, dialogue, and effects. And critically, they didn't discard the noise. They delivered the noise floor as its own separate track, because there might be sonic details within it that the final mixer would want to preserve as part of the film's original character. That's an extraordinarily thoughtful approach, and it won a major technology award in 2025. But it was driven by human judgment at every step. The AI did the separation. People made the decisions about what that separation should accomplish and why.

That's the right model. Use AI for the tasks where it creates massive efficiency gains — and to do things that couldn't be done before: searching, cataloging, metadata enrichment, audio separation, OCR on handwritten labels. Reserve human expertise for the decisions that require it.

Use AI for the tasks where it creates massive efficiency gains — and to do things that couldn't be done before.
The archive is now at the center of the AI conversation.
This might be the thing I'm most struck by right now, and it wasn't something I anticipated even a few years ago. Studios and media organizations that are training AI models for their own creative and production work are discovering that their archives are the most valuable training data they have. Rich, diverse, well-documented collections of visual and audio material, material that in many cases predates digital production entirely, are exactly what these models need.
 
That changes the value equation for archives in a meaningful way. The archive has historically been treated as a cost center, the place where you store things you might need someday. What we're seeing now is that the archive is actually one of the most strategically significant assets an organization has, provided it's in a condition where that value can be extracted.
 
Which brings everything back to where I started. If the material isn't digitized, it can't be searched. If it can't be searched, it can't be used. If it can't be used, it can't generate value, cultural or commercial. And if it deteriorates in the meantime, it's simply gone.

From the SXSW panel: why the archive has become the unexpected center of the AI conversation.

SXSW Violeta
What to do with this

If you're responsible for a physical or media archive of any size, here are the questions worth asking right now:

What do you actually have, and what condition is it in? Not a rough estimate. A real inventory, ideally conducted before the material has passed the point of intervention.

Is your digitized content findable by the people who need to use it? Having digital files in a system that only a few specialists know how to navigate is not meaningfully different from having the material on a shelf.

Are your metadata and your physical and digital asset records integrated in a single view? The absence of that unified view is one of the most consistent problems we see, and one of the most solvable. In fact, Iron Mountain has a great solution for this called Iron Mountain InSight® DXP - so if you’re curious about how we can help, please reach out.

And finally:

It's time to listen to the archivist in your organization when they say that time is running out.

The conversation we had at SXSW was energizing, and the technology is genuinely remarkable. But the thing that stays with me from years of doing this work is simpler than the technology. Every film deserves its opening night again. The work we do, the painstaking, labor-intensive, sometimes unglamorous work of preservation and digitization and cataloging, is what makes that possible. And an archive always exceeds its original intent. With the tools that now allow for new discovery, new creativity, and new insights, AI isn't just helping us work faster and better — it's revealing value that was always there, waiting to be found. Urgency isn't strong enough of a word.

 


Andrea Kalas

Andrea Kalas is VP, Media & Archival Services at Iron Mountain. She has spent her career at the intersection of film preservation, archive technology, and the moving image industry, including earlier roles at Paramount Pictures, the British Film Institute, UCLA Film & Television Archive, and DreamWorks.