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The “Game” of Finding Work in Los Angeles

When I moved to Los Angeles, I knew three people including a friend from home named Dustin. On my first night in town, I went for dinner with him and a few of his friends. One asked the waiter about something on the menu. The waiter replied, “Well, as long as I’ve been here – which is five years now – this has been the most popular item on the menu. But the only reason I’ve been here five years is because I’m still trying to get my screenplay published.”  The waiter then took our order as nothing had happened.

After he left, I asked if the waiter’s comment struck anyone as odd. “Nah,” Dustin said, “you get used to it after a while. Everyone wants to be doing something else in this town.” His friend shared a story about a colleague who recently landed a job. The colleague was at Starbucks venting about how she couldn’t find work. The guy at the next table overheard her and said he needed to hire someone to do exactly what she was talking about. They exchanged information and she was hired a few days later.

Since I didn’t move to LA with a job, my first couple months were spent taking “meetings” (aka lunch, coffee, or a drink) with “connections” (aka friends of friends or people I met through an ad on Craigslist). I tried the regular job channels like applying to job listings or sending my resume to studios but got no response. It was so bizarre that all of this was the reality of starting a career. It felt more like a game making friends using code words versus job seeking.

Instead of seeking work, I started seeking information. I wanted to know how others got their start or what their career paths were like. How did they get interviews or job offers? What could I do to find more opportunities? What path should I be taking? It was those questions that lead to more meetings and more connections and eventually to work and more opportunities. The more I got to know people the more they offered to help.

I also met up with a college friend (one of the three I knew when I moved out). She worked at a post-production studio. She said the studio received at least 30 resumes a week and if they have an opening (even for receptionist) the owner would give an interview to someone an employee knew over a no-name resume from the pile. She showed me the cabinet full of resumes – all people who never got an interview.

I got a great piece of advice during one of those first meetings: “It’ll take six months just to make the connections to start looking for work in Los Angeles.” Once you start seeing the web of connections and how it works you realize opportunity could be anywhere – even from a stranger at Starbucks or a friend from college. The hard part is getting used to selling yourself in unexpected situations. There’s a balance, though, in knowing when it’s appropriate to talk about your skills or work. The waiter, for example, may have been too forward bringing up his screenplay while he was working another job. It takes some practice but if you’re comfortable sharing about yourself (and knowing how much or when to share) a stranger can turn into a connection or even lead to a great job.

 

Time for a Change

Recently I decided to make a significant change to my business. From the end of this year, I have decided to limit my voice-over demo production services to character voice demo production only. I’ve worked hard to grow the voice demo side of my business for the past six years, so it wasn’t an easy decision.

When I decided to start offering voice demo services, it seemed perfect for a freelance sound designer/voice actor. Actors, broadcasters, and anyone else who wants to work professionally as a voice-over artist or voice actor need professional voice-over demos to showcase their voice-over work. I wrote scripts, directed and recorded the actors in my studio, and mixed their demos. As my voice-over career grew, I also offered advice about the industry.

For a few years, producing voice demos felt like a way I could creatively combine voice-over, sound engineering, and sound design skills. And because I managed all my bookings through my personal studio, it was also flexible enough to allow me to do other sound design and voice-over work. After a few years it made up 60% of my income and bookings were steady enough for me to fill all the available slots I had every month, without almost any marketing.

As I write this, I am booked up for voice demos until the end of October, with people on the waiting list for when I open bookings again for November/December. This is the closest I have come to a guaranteed income since I went freelance for the second time. Once I stop producing commercial and narrative demos, I don’t have work readily lined up to replace this. Until I do, I’ll be losing around 50% of my monthly income. So, yeah – not an easy decision.

So why do it? Over the past year, I’ve felt it was time for a change for a number of reasons. Here are a few signs that you might recognise if you’re considering a similar change:

It stopped being challenging

Producing voice-over demos has taught me a lot. I learned how to write effective commercial, narrative and animation and gaming character scripts. My voice-over editing skills improved, and I discovered how to mix demo radio and TV commercials to sound like the real thing. I developed directing skills and eventually, an individual style and technique. But about 18 months ago, I realised I wasn’t learning anything new. I’d reached a point where I had all the skills and experience I needed to keep producing quality commercial and narrative voice demos, and I had no real drive to add to these. Which was compounded by….

I achieved all my goals

Once I was satisfied that producing voice demos would be commercially viable, I set goals for myself. Earlier this year, I ticked off the last of those goals. While there are other directions I could take this side of my business – expanding into commercial premises, hiring staff, offering different packages – none of these are appealing. I still want to produce character voice demos (for performers who want to showcase their voice acting skills for animation and gaming), but  I’ve reached my upper limit of what I want to do with commercial and narrative reels.

I wasn’t doing the work I really wanted to do

I am drowning in admin. Responding to emails, writing scripts, creating downloadable resources for clients, is overwhelming, and it’s taking time away from the sound design projects I want to do. One solution I considered was hiring an assistant or virtual assistant, but I’m uncomfortable with the idea of hiring staff. It’s time to do less of the work I currently do, to make time for the work I want to do.

I lost motivation

For almost my entire freelance career, earning money has been a pretty big motivator – if I don’t work, I don’t get paid. So I knew it was a big sign that I needed to make a change when even the thought of maybe not getting paid wasn’t enough to keep me on consistently on track and focused on my work.

I stopped looking forward to the work

You don’t have to love your job every single day. You do have to want to be there most days – otherwise, you’re doing the wrong job.

I’ll still be producing character voice demos for people who want to showcase their voice acting skills for cartoons and video games, so I haven’t cut the cord completely. And I admit I’m a tad nervous about what comes next when I don’t have a solid calendar of bookings on which to rely. Equally, I’m looking forward to what comes next – hopefully, more of the work I want to do and even, some time off! Here’s to new challenges.

 

Summer Season

Unbelievably, I celebrated two years in Muscat last month! Time is flying by and our dark time in the Opera House over the summer is coming to an end. Working regular hours is somewhat of a novelty to those of us used to working in commercial theatre, so we are all keen to make use of the evenings and weekends. Finding activities to avoid the searing temperatures of summer in the desert is all part of the fun!

Recording in ‘Tunes’ music shop in Ruwi and ‘The Guitar Centre’ in Al Khuwair.

Recording with ‘Pulse and Soul’ -a local band

At the end of Ramadan, I was asked to do some recording for a local band, ‘Pulse and soul.’ The musicians are all teachers at the ‘Classical Music and Arts Institute.’ Using their show equipment and a newly purchased Focusrite Scarlett 2i4 we produced several tracks that can be used for promotional purposes. We also filmed the recordings.

The live music scene in Oman is complicated to understand as an outsider. Laws carefully regulate where and when live music can be performed. International hotels and private ceremonies such as birthdays and weddings are the main platforms away from the Royal Opera House.

After the first set of recordings, it was decided that we should also produce some tracks recorded in a more intimate setting. The drum room at the private music school in Qurum was transformed into a recording studio, and we started recording some different combinations of performances. Using the larger Focusrite Clarett 8 Pre X we started recording multi-track for more post-production flexibility. Of course, this produced much better results regarding audio quality but the downside of this being that more time was required for editing. Trying to fit this around all of our work commitments started becoming increasingly challenging!

Renaissance Day in Salalah

On the 23rd of July, Oman celebrates ‘Renaissance day.’ This is the day that the Sultan of Oman, Qaboos bin Said al Said, came to power in 1970. Various events take place across the Sultanate and the day is a public holiday. To celebrate in style, my friend and Education Manager of the Royal Opera House, Lisa Navach, visited Salalah in the South of Oman.

The trip takes about 1.5 hours by plane or 12 hours by road. We opted for the flight!

 

Salalah is famous for its yearly tourism festival. This takes part during a season called ‘Khareef.’ The lush green landscape and cooler temperatures are a welcome break from summer in Muscat. Hiring a car meant that we could easily get around and do some off roading to find empty beaches with pure white sand. Bliss!

Back in Salalah, the festival was a complete cultural submersion into traditional music and dance of the Dhofar region. Slightly more conservative than Oman, there were few Western tourists, and we really felt that we were experiencing a true insight into a region that feels very in touch with its traditional roots.

All Men, women, and families have different seating areas in the audience for these displays of traditional music and dance. All performances were being transmitted live on television across the Sultanate!

Next week I will travel back to the UK for my annual leave. I’m preparing myself for the reverse culture shock that I am bound to experience back in London! The season at the Royal Opera House commences in September with an exciting programme of Ballet, Opera, and music from around the world.

 

What are you worth? or Do I need an agent?

In an industry where fees are kept close to everyone’s chest, it’s often hard to know what is a fair price for your time. Taking a job where I feel I have been ripped off in the fees department is never a way for me to feel like part of a team and produce my best work. I have found that it is often not a one-off. Doing one show at a discounted rate, in my experience, only leads to being offered more shows with a discounted fee attached. It is often assumed, in theatre, that the Sound Designer is at the bottom of the pile when the money is being handed out. Add to that the global phenomenon of women being paid less than men. Yes, women working full-time still often earn less than men doing the same job:

Women are Still Paid Less than Men Even in the Same Job

Nursing Pay Gap Women Paid Less

Research Finds Women Paid Less than Men in 90 Sectors

The Gender Pay Gap

It can feel the struggle to find out if you are getting paid what you are worth. I have said this before but, I have found that, for me, working for free has never led to a paid gig. I’m not saying it doesn’t happen, but not in my personal experience.

There are Guidelines for Theatre Designers, but not specifically for Sound:
The Association of Lighting Designers has a suggested fees document that covers everything from a major musical (£20,000) to a fringe/pub theatre production (£1,000). I find that the only way not to drive myself mad is to try to stick to this. If there are special circumstances, like a very short run in hope of a transfer, then I will make sure there are clauses like: I get the first refusal if the show transfers, and that transfer will come with a fee that is the going rate. I also make sure the copyright of the sound design and content created stays with me.

If I have to be away from home, there is the issue of accommodation. £500 seems to be a standard figure offered for accommodation and travel but I am very honest if I can’t find anywhere for that and/or there are last-minute changes to schedules. Not being able to book ahead makes everything a whole lot more expensive.

Also, I always mention any dates I am not available for during the rehearsal and production period. We aren’t expected to be there for every day of rehearsals unless specified in the contract and compensated, but it is still good to give a heads-up to the director and producer of any clashes in my schedule. Theatre Sound Design pay rates mean you often have overlapping projects; people understand this but communicate with them so there are no awkward surprises later on.

I do sometimes wonder if it’s worth trying to get an agent to do the negotiating, but the only benefit I can see is that they have more of an idea of what the going rate is. I would still have to agree, or not, to the terms of the contract. Technical Design Agents in the UK theatre scene don’t really get you to work, at least not actively. As far as I’m aware, they negotiate the contract on your behalf. I have heard a variety of things from Lighting Designers: those whose rate tripled when they got an agent, to the agent who insisted on taking a cut from all of their clients’ earnings, regardless of whether they had been working as a designer or not.

The only way through, for me, is to make sure I don’t go into a job feeling that I’ve been taken advantage of. If I can manage that, then I am happy to negotiate the contract myself. And there is always the rest of the creative team who, if they won’t actually tell you the fee they are on, will tell you if they think yours is below the going rate.

 

 

 

The Role of an Associate Theatre Sound Designer

I’m at the beginning of my third week of a six-week contract as Sound Associate, otherwise known as an Associate Sound Designer, for a one-woman play with a complex score and sound design. Associate creative roles are quite common in UK theatre, but as I’ve had a few sound people in the past ask me what the role entails, I thought this would be a perfect opportunity to write about what you can expect if you take a job as a Sound Associate.

The basic role of a Sound Associate is to support the Sound Designer in realising the sound design for a show, when the Sound Designer has conflicting commitments or the volume of work required is too large for one person. A Sound Associate is more than an assistant. As well as often being a professional Sound Designer themselves, they have to be prepared to not only take on any sound design responsibilities that the Sound Designer can’t cover. These include standing in for the Sound Designer for when they can’t physically be at rehearsals, tech rehearsals, or a new venue.

I’ve hired Sound Associates in the past, because of this latter scenario: when a show I designed transferred to a different venue and I wasn’t available for the required dates. In these cases, I’ve entrusted my existing sound design to an associate, who then took on the responsibility of putting the show into the new venue. Their responsibilities included setting levels, making sure everything played out at the right time from the right speaker, and applying changes to cues requested by the director

Of course, all changes were fed back to me, because it was still my sound design. As it was the second run of an already successful production, I wanted my design altered as little as possible. I was aware that this didn’t allow my Associate to have much creative input, but then, the role of an Associate isn’t necessarily a creative one. A Sound Designer may ask you to source or create particular sound effects, and some sound designers may rely on an associate for a lot of creative input. However, it’s important to remember that the overall shape and realisation of the Sound design will always be the responsibility of the Sound Designer.

So why work as a Sound Associate? For one, if you’re at the start of your career, it’s an effective way to gain Sound Design experience or to work on a particular type of show. It’s also an opportunity to learn from more experienced Designers, and it’s a useful way to build relationships with production companies, directors, and creatives. For me, I wanted the opportunity to work on a unique production and immerse myself in a more practical, collaborative way of working with sound, which I hadn’t done for a while.

The responsibilities of a Sound Associate will differ from show to show, depending on what the Sound Designer needs. At a basic level, you should be prepared to do any of the following:

I think it’s this last point that separates a Sound Assistant from a Sound Associate. An excellent Sound Associate will protect the original design has much as possible and incorporate any changes without compromising the Designer’s overall aims. Whether an Associate is responsible for part of a show or from taking the show from rehearsals to the first preview, the Sound Designer has to trust that the show is in safe hands.

SoundGirls in Muscat – Workshop

April 21, 2017, marked the first-ever SoundGirls workshops in Muscat. Two workshops were held at the Classical Music and Arts Institute in Qurum, kindly supported by manager Thanae Pachiyannaki. The first workshop was for 10-15-year-olds and the second for 16+. Due to the interest booking had to be closed earlier than expected and a waiting list for places was created.

Claudia and Dianis, music teachers at the Classical Music and Arts Institute, helped set up for the event and managed the door. A very wide range of people from across the community attended. Teachers, students, and musicians. All had a keen interest in the audio profession and had plenty of questions to ask.

A basic sound system was set up for the event. Two UPJ’s on stands, an Allen and HeathZed-12FX, a wired SM58 and two Zaxcom transmitters and receivers.

After a short introduction and explanation of the aims of ‘SoundGirls,’ the equipment was used to explain basic signal flow, with plenty of hands-on time. As my background is mainly musical theatre-based, we then looked at radio mics; the basic theory of how they work and some of the uses. We watched a clip from ‘Matilda the Musical’ and talked about the challenges that are faced on large-scale musicals including working with remote bands and how communication is maintained between stage and pit. Given that the Royal Opera House is the only theatre in the region, most of the workshop attendees had seen at least one performance. This gave rise to some enthusiastic discussion about the type of performances that we have here and cultural sensitivities in the region.

We rounded out the hour with some short feedback forms, differentiated to the needs of each group. The overwhelming response was that attendees enjoyed the workshop and would like to be involved in future events. In the future, I hope to arrange themed workshops, based on more specific areas such as live music, theatre, archiving and creating sound effects.

‘Community’ is ever more important in a city such as Muscat with such a hugely transient population. Friends come and go, and it is easy to get caught up in a world of work and not much else. Giving back just a small amount of time is immensely rewarding.

A wise friend once taught me that to serve another person is the greatest gift that you can give. As much as I hope that the workshop attendees gained new knowledge and inspiration, my own wish to serve this community was also fulfilled.

Huge thanks must go to everyone who helped support this SoundGirls event: Thanae Pachiyannaki, Claudia Reynaldo Prado and Dianis Catas Salas at The Classical Music and Arts Institute and Max White and Mike Compton at the Royal Opera House Muscat.

Radio Mics and Vocal Reinforcement, Part 2

Continuing from my last blog post, here is some more about the vocal reinforcement techniques I have learnt in relation to radio mics. Read Part 1 Here

Addams Family


This is a photo of a production of the Addams Family musical. This was the same setup, in principle, as Rent. The band is at the back of the stage – there is not much separation between the stage and the band. The mics are in the hairline; you can see the odd mic poking out but they are pretty well hidden. So, what is going on here? Why does this mic position work for The Addams Family musical and not for Rent?

It’s the score. The Addams Family is much more traditional in terms of musical theatre: the line-up of instruments is more traditional and there is room in the score for the vocals. The overall level of the show is quieter and that means we can get away the mics in a more discrete position.

Let’s look at the difference between the mic positions within the show, considering everything else is the same.

Ear hanger

In this photo, you can see Uncle Fester. Uncle Fester has no hair so the hairline isn’t an option at all. What can we do for uncle Fester? Uncle Fester needs an ear hanger.

You can’t see the ear hanger in this picture – I couldn’t find a shot of him from the correct angle. The ear hanger is quite long –  you would probably make it shorter and paint it to match the skin or hair tone.

Sometimes the hairline can’t be used because you have a hat situation that isn’t going to resolve itself in the way you’d hoped. So, what are the problems with this?

If you have to go for an ear hanger, it’s generally a step down in audio quality from the hairline position. Although they are omni-directional mics, there is a muddy quality to the audio when you put the mic over the ear. They are probably far more visible but they will keep a constant distance from the mouth. They can be liable to sweat-out, and if the actor is laying down, or head to head in profile with someone, then that can cause noise problems. But it can be a good solution if you can’t get the mic in the hairline.

It is common to use an HF boost cap on an ear hanger to try to help with the difference in EQ that it will need.


American Idiot



Boom mic

I did a production of American Idiot at the Bridewell Theatre. You can see they are all on boom mics here. American Idiot was a loud show and we had a great band who were up on a balcony at the back. Everyone in the cast was on a boom mic. It gave us the level we needed to get the vocals over the band and to have that great impact at the start of the show.

What are the downsides of boom mics? Well, they get in the way. Obviously, the actors lying on the floor is an even bigger problem here because there is more of the mic to crush. Any scenes where the actors have to kiss can be awkward. The mics move and, depending on where they are anchored, they may move relative to the mouth of the actor. They have to be anchored and fitted really well to not move about. Heavy breathing can be a problem and there is a very distinctive look to them. But they are worth it. So long as they are fitted properly, they will give you lots of level.

Chest mic

This is the least useful mic position for live sound. In theatre, it can bring all sorts of issues.

It is so difficult to make chest mics work as the actor can turn their head away from the mic – that will generate an inconsistent level. There can be loads of clothing noise and they really get in the way of costume changes.

Live effects on radio mics

Mic-ing every line of dialogue can you give you the opportunity to impose SFX on top of certain actors’ voices, so you’re not just restricted to amplification.

I was the sound designer for a production of Ghost.  One of the main characters in the show, Sam, is dead. He dies during the show and refuses to go away. He is not the only Ghost in the production.

The problem was one of how to make Sam otherworldly. There were some physical magic tricks to make that happen, but we wanted to give him that sudden transition into a ghost. We couldn’t do it visually – we couldn’t make him transparent, or black and white, or any of the other standard visual tricks used to represent a ghost – so I decided that whenever someone died they would have their own reverb. All their personal dialogue after they died would have its own reverb.

When they launched into song, the difference between the speaking effect reverb and the reverb needed for a number created a bit of a conflict, but subtle mixing fixed that.

I played with a similar thing on a version of the Nativity that I designed.

The play starts with the Book of Genesis, so before the world existed there was God and the angels and they all had a vocal reverb when they spoke as well.

The same actor that played God also played Death. I wanted to create something for Death that was different from the human characters in the play, but also something different than the reverb effect we had used for God and the angels. We used a pitch shift and, although you could still hear her acoustic voice, there was an undercurrent of something more menacing and subtle that gave enough of a difference to her voice to make an impact.

I’ve covered some of the things I have learned about radio mics here, but it’s a constant art of just doing what works and not being afraid to change the way things are done if they aren’t working the way you need them to for the job in hand.

Recap
In the last two posts I have covered five different types of mic-ing:

In the hairline: Looks good and sounds good, if you aren’t doing a very loud show. Minimal interference with the actor, unless they do a lot of forehead acting. Hair products and sweat can be a problem.

On the forehead: Still sounds great, but isn’t as discrete and is more prone to forehead acting.

Over the ear: Can sound muffled and needs some EQ work. It can get in the way if the actor is laying on their side. Sweat can be a problem. picks up costume noise, and doesn’t sound great.

Boom mic: Great for level, but can really get in the way physically.   Heavy breathing can be a problem. They are not at all discreet.

Chest mic: Can be very noisy, causes problems with costume changes.

Running Your Own Race

Over the past five years, I’ve been interviewed a couple of times for a “day in the life”-type feature for a magazine or blog. One of the more common questions, aside from “describe a typical workday for you” is “what has been the best day of your life so far?”

The answer is always the same: one of the best days of my life to date was the day I ran the London Marathon in 2009. I finished in a pretty good time (3:38), but it wasn’t my race time alone that made it a memorable day.

The 2017 London Marathon was last weekend and watching coverage of the race; I was reminded of why running the same race eight years ago was such an important day for me.

Every day I feel surrounded by reminders of competition and comparison, and I’m sure it’s the same for many of you. You can’t be an active social media user without seeing daily updates from friends and colleagues about great gigs they’ve just worked, accolades they’ve attained and life goals they’ve achieved. It’s often hard not to feel like you’re in constant competition with your peers.

I know that what we see on social media isn’t often an accurate reflection of a person’s life, thanks to algorithms and personal curation. I also know it’s very easy to feel envious when we see people moving ahead in their careers when we feel we’re treading water with our own.

At these times, several mantras spring to mind, like “trust the process” and “you are where you are meant to be.”  I’m not much of a mantra person, though I did use a slightly hyperbolic “pain is temporary, glory is forever” during marathon training, because it fitted my running rhythm, and it seemed to motivate me to keep running. Despite this, I’ve found a mantra that works for me at the moment: “you are running your own race.”

This phrase, to me, has two meanings. One, your journey is unique. Two, you should appreciate the mileage you have already done, as well as look forward to the challenges and milestones yet to come.

Comparing yourself with your colleagues won’t give you any magic answers about why they are where they are, and you are where you are because they’re not you. Maybe the friend who posted proudly about getting an enviable gig has carved out a niche in that particular area of sound, whereas you’ve worked across several sectors. Maybe the gig is the result of years of networking to get noticed. Or maybe they were just in the right place at the right time. Whatever the reason, all it means is that you won’t be working that gig this time around. It doesn’t mean that opportunity will never come your way. And by the time it does, maybe you’ll already be doing something better.

Focussing on one specific end goal, or career level, as being the be-all and end-all also ignores how much you’ve achieved so far. Making a career in sound, or in any creative field, takes sacrifice and determination. Appreciate how far you’ve come and the successes you’ve had. You don’t get to mile 26 without passing miles 1 to 25 first.

I had a friend and training partner who ran the London Marathon the year I ran it. He was a more experienced long-distance runner who expected to finish in a time under 3:30. We had both trained hard and were as prepared as humanly possible. On the day, less than halfway through, he tripped over a discarded water bottle, twisted his ankle and had to walk part of the way. He limped over the line after well over 4 hours. I had a dream run, did the first 9 miles faster than I ever expected and finished 7 minutes faster than my best-predicted time. The following year he ran again and smashed his best predicted time, and I decided not to compete altogether because I had already achieved what I wanted.

To my mind, both of us are winners of our own races. I had a great run in 2009 because I was well-prepared and nothing unexpected happened. The following year my training partner had a great race for much the same reasons. We both finished the race we wanted in the end, and it doesn’t matter much when it happened.

When I feel a tug of jealousy about someone else’s career or disappointment about my own, I remember why I trained for and ran the London Marathon and how I felt that day. I did it not to be faster than anyone else in particular, but because I had set myself a goal of running a marathon. I was ecstatic that I finished faster than my best-predicted time, but what made the day memorable was the proof that I made it happen myself.

You don’t have to compete to achieve your goals. Celebrate how far you’ve come. Run your own race.

Speak Up and Record It!

Voice Recording and Spatial Audio as Tools for Empowerment

I am a Brazilian SoundGirl from Rio de Janeiro that moved to Berlin, Germany, in 2013 to study and work. During my first year in this new city, I started to feel alone and disconnected, like I was watching life passing by through a window: I was there, but I was outside. I would like to share here some of my experiences with you, and explain how I used audio as a tool for empowerment while dealing with my own feelings of alienation. I believe that many of us have gone or are going, through similar experiences. I hope I can bring a bit of encouragement, as well as proposing another point of view on using our knowledge as a weapon to overcome challenges.

In facing my feelings of disconnection, I found comfort in technology. I started to exchange voice messages with a close friend that was also living abroad. Speaking on the cellphone in my mother-tongue, while wandering through the streets of Berlin, helped me feel I was no longer an outsider. I was somehow functioning in that society. The streets were mine, as I walked through them. I was re-appropriating that place and contributing to its soundscape, by bringing my private discourse into the public space.

During this process, I noticed that I enjoyed playing back my recordings. I could listen to what I just said from a new perspective, and this was helping me reorganise my thoughts. I started to experiment with that, but without sending my recorded messages to anyone. In other words, I decided to talk to myself through the phone, and listen back to what I just said. This turned out to function as a fun (and reflective) practice, that I had developed spontaneously to deal with my issues of feeling disconnected.

This whole experience led me to develop a method for artistic research in the Masters in Sound Studies, at the University of the Arts (Universität der Künste) in Berlin. Through this method, I researched my own sense of self, while feeling “I don’t belong” – either to a place, to a group of people, or to both at the same time. This work culminated with the creation of an immersive installation, which I called ‘This Alienness and Me’.

I would like to talk a bit about this process, both technically and conceptually. The research project was initiated in December 2015 and lasted until February 2017. The installation was exhibited on 7th February 2017 at the Wave Field Synthesis Studio, at the UDK.

Installation: ‘This Alienness and Me’

In the installation, I used spatial audio to juxtapose my personal voice recordings, made with a cellphone. The process of composing the sound for my installation was executed by using object-oriented audio. Through a Wave Field Synthesis system (WFS), I was able to position sound objects and organise them spatially, around different parts of the studio. According to Brandenburg, Brix & Sporer (2009):

“Wave Field Synthesis is a method to recreate an accurate replication of a sound field using the theory of waves and of the generation of wave fronts…WFS controlled loudspeaker arrays reproduce wave fields that originate from any combination of (virtual) sound sources like an acoustic hologram. When driven properly, the system recreates wave fronts approaching perfect temporal, spectral and spatial properties throughout the listening room.” (p.1)

WFS Studio at the UDK

I will explain later how and why I used low-quality recordings in a high-end technology system, as well as talk about my experience with composition and mixing in the WFS. At the same time, I would also like to open a dialogue concerning the sense of self and female discourses. I believe, that through the use of our knowledge, we are able to shift perspectives on how we see ourselves and how we are seen by others.

Inspiration

The main problem I have faced in the few last years is to realise that the way I perceived myself – and what I understood as my identity – was different and disconnected from the ‘images’ of myself that I perceived through the eyes of others. I felt for example, that my personal history was not important (or almost worthless) to the new people I met. Conversely, the categories I would be put in as a first impression – woman, foreign, chubby – seemed to be overestimated. Another example concerns my auditory reality. My efforts to communicate were aggravating those feelings. I heard myself talking imperfectly in two different languages, neither my mother tongue: English and German. The situation was complex because it was surrounded by different issues related to self, identity, perceiving others, listening, talking, language, speech, communication, different kinds and degrees of relationships, and new and strange environments.

I had started to find some comfort in speaking on the cellphone – in my mother tongue – while wandering through the streets of Berlin. I felt empowered as if I had a secret weapon to deal with my problems. In 2014 I suggested to a friend, Fernanda Sa Dias, that we exchange mobile voice messages as an act of mutual comfort and ‘free self-analysis’. Fernanda is also from Brazil and was living in Bremen. We would record ourselves talking about our lives, experiences, insights, feelings, and send these recordings to each other. Further, we listened to each other, not specifically giving advice, but commented freely and gave emotional support if necessary; and we listened to our own voice messages. This was an agreement that we made as friends, to see if this could help us emotionally.

The writer and theorist Gloria Anzaldúa (1980), in her essay ‘Speaking in tongues: a letter to third world women writers’, writes “our speech, too, is inaudible. We speak in tongues like the outcast and the insane” and calls on third-world women writers to speak up: “Because white eyes do not want to know us, they do not bother to learn our language, the language which reflects us, our culture, our spirit” (p.165). For Lydia French (2014), professor of English and director of Mexican-American/Latino Studies at Houston Community College-Central, Anzaldúa brings attention to “social invisibility and inaudibility for [those women]” (p.3). For her, Anzaldúa is emphasising “how some in positions of power implicitly ‘close their ears’ to the voices of women of colour, voices frequently cast as unmeaning noise” (p.3).

Additionally, while analysing Bose’s noise-canceling headphones, Mack Hagood (2011), a researcher in digital media, sound technologies and popular music, discusses how mobile technology can act in favour of objectifying the sound of women’s voices into noise. According to Hagood, “voices – particularly women’s and children’s voices – are referenced in reviews [of Bose’s noise-canceling headphones] almost as often as the sound of the jet engine [of the airplane]” (p.584). For the noise-canceling headphone buyer, there is no difference between the noise sources: all of them are unwanted and unpleasant noise. Hagood takes into account both Bose’s commercials and the users’ reviews on the product. According to him, in male-written newspaper pieces, women’s voices are perceived as “emotional, distracting, and annoying – generally too young, feminine, and irrational to silence themselves” (p.584).

Inspired by my experience with mobile voice messages, I decided to explore this ‘talking out loud to myself on the phone while feeling alienated’ as part of my research. At the same time, I aimed to reconceptualize the sound of my voice into the soundscape of an immersive environment, which would function as a medium for communicating the results of my research to others.

Recording, Composing & Mixing

During the time of my research, I produced a total of 24 recordings with my cellphone. In all of them I’m describing my feelings of alienation in different conditions: different places, different times of the day, either moving through the city, sitting somewhere or laying down on my bed. Later, I used those recordings in my immersive environment, by further mixing them using the WFS.

Through the Wave Field Synthesis System, I was able to position sound objects and organise them spatially around different parts of the studio. To begin with, twelve different recordings were being played. The use of object-oriented audio allowed me to find a space in the room for each sound source. I mixed the audio by spreading the sound sources around the space, and focusing both on the  macro and micro level simultaneously. It means that I should be able to produce an ‘acceptable cacophony’, where sound objects superpose each other, but have also their own space inside the room. Sounds happening in the micro environments should be more or less independent from each other, by telling different stories in different places of the room, at different moments. At the same time, the macro environment should still be reasonably perceived as a whole system.

During the compositional process I was able to hear myself speaking about my feelings of alienation and play with volume automation. I increased the volume in the moments where I felt I was saying something important and decreased the volume of the recordings where I was saying something not so relevant. This helped me guide the listener into the ‘acceptable cacophony’ mentioned above. Although the listener, most of the time, had the feeling they could choose what they heard inside the installation, those choices were limited through my mix. I guided the listener through my intimate thoughts, by choosing carefully what moments I would  like to raise more awareness of.

Next, I included some voice recordings I made while reading written descriptions of my feelings. These were also recorded with a cellphone but, instead of walking through the streets, I was on my bed, in my room. Spatially, the sound of those recordings weren’t fixed in the studio room, as I worked circularly with the localization of these sound objects. I felt that the circular movement was providing a clearer way of continuing to ‘tell the story, without drawing the visitor’s attention to the technology and equipment.

Installation: ‘This Alienness and Me’

The composition needed to be so that the visitor could choose what and how they wanted to listen. They could also choose to listen to the environment by focusing more on sound quality, colours and movement, and less on spoken words. The idea was that the visitor should be free to make those choices. The audio was played in a loop and the visitor could move inside and outside the room at any time.

“If it is only through the other that we know who we are, then interacting with others is always a presentation and renegotiation of the self…” (Hagood, 2011, p.578)

Conceptually, and following Hagood, the idea was that the visitor would need to reassess themselves over and over, either by interacting with the installation – and, in consequence,  being confronted with my voice and my words – or with other visitors inside the installation. Every time they made a decision to move inside the room, stay, leave, or even of changing their awareness from some mode of listening to another, they were responsible for how and to what they listened, as well as for which images of themselves emerged while inside the installation.

Additionally, a dialog between private and public was taking place. On a macro level, the cacophony produced through the superposition of my recordings was inspired by the cacophony present in urban spaces. Depending on the visitors’ interactions (either through movement or shifting auditory awareness), this was slowly intercalated with the private: the intimacy of my personal recordings happening in the microenvironments. Temporally, the composition also slowly changes from the macro-level to the micro, more interiorised level, when the recordings made in the streets stop, and the audio I recorded on my bed start to play. Visually, I decided to include some personal objects in the room: carpets, lights, a cushion. The contrast between my personal objects and the studio room was also contributing to this dialog, by bringing my private world into the university’s studio.

In the installation, the lights are spread out around the carpets and one chair is positioned in the middle of the room, while seven other chairs are positioned in the circle peripherally, facing the chair in the middle. On the chair, the visitors found glasses with a tag that said “Try Me”. Each chair brought the visitor to a particular perspective and a new approach to the environment. The glasses had mirrors that pointed to the floor. If the visitor chose to sit on the chair and put on the glasses, they could see themself seated, while the lights made interesting reflections back to their eyes. If they decided to walk around and/or sit on one the peripheral chairs, then according to their own perception, awareness and movement inside the room, they were able to interact with the space in different ways.

Binaural version of the audio – Listen with headphones and close your eyes for a deeper immersive effect:

Video documentation of the installation:

Final Thoughts

Anzaldúa (1980), facing an imposed silence, calls women to speak up. She speaks up through writing. She is compelled to write, “[b]ecause the writing saves [her] from this complacency [she] fear[s]. Because [she] ha[s] no choice. Because [she] must keep the spirit of [her] revolt and [her]self alive” (pp.168-169).

Facing my feeling of alienation, I also decided to speak up. I spoke, recorded, and turned each narration into a sound object inside the studio room. I layered, organised spatially, and played back all tracks containing my voice. My secret weapon to deal with my issues of disconnection was being upgraded to a new level.

I talked about my feelings on the cellphone while wandering through the streets of Berlin, or while in the comfort of my room. I brought my low-quality intimate recordings to the public through the use of hi-end technology. The mixing possibilities provided by the WFS enabled me to create a sound piece in which my cellphone recordings were reconceptualized into high-quality audio processing. Through this work, I could resignify the noises of my alienation into speech, by juxtaposing discourses and reshaping them into the soundscape of my created environment.

In the end, it was not only about myself. I hope to encourage Sound Girls into using their knowledge to feel empowered and motivated to speak up, reclaim acoustic space and reconceptualize their own notions of self.

References:

Anzaldúa, G., 1980. Speaking in tongues: a letter to third world women writers, in: Moraga, C., Anzaldúa, G. (Eds.), This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. Persephone Press, Watertown, MA, pp. 165–175.

Brandenburg, K., Brix, S., Sporer, T., 2004. Wave Field Synthesis: From research to applications. Presented at the 12th European Signal Processing Conference, IEEE, Ilmenau, Germany.

French, L., 2014. Chican@ Literature of Differential Listening. Interference. [WWW Document], URL http://www.interferencejournal.com/articles/sound-methods/chican-literature-of-differential-listening (accessed 4.1.17)

Hagood, M., 2011. Quiet Comfort: Noise, Otherness, and the Mobile Production of Personal Space. American Quarterly 63, pp. 573–589.

I’ll be developing and presenting these ideas further at the Symposium Sonic Cyberfeminisms in May 2017, in Lincoln, UK.

Mariana Bahia is a sound artist and researcher in digital media and audio technology. She is particularly interested in understanding the sense of self through sound recording and audio reproduction. She likes to explore the intersection between hi-end and low-quality technology, from cellphone recordings to spatial audio. Her work is based on composing sound pieces and installations using superposed voice and self-designed instruments. Mariana is a research assistant in immersive audio in the TiME Lab at the Fraunhofer Heinrich-Hertz-Institut and is finishing her Masters in Sound Studies at the University of the Arts (UDK), Berlin. www.marianabahia.com  www.sifonics.com

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