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Stage Managers and Sound Designers

Together Forever

2020 is the year of the stage manager, so this is the perfect time to talk about how I get the most out of my Sound Designer/Stage Manager relationship!  The Stage Manager is the one person that probably knows the most about the show and the actors. They are also the one who is going to make sure your design is executed exactly as planned at each and every show.  Basically, the Stage Manager is someone you really want in your corner, so I want to go over just a few of the ways my relationship with Stage Managers has been beneficial.

First of all, I completely support listing the Stage Manager as a part of the creative team.  I’m stating this, maybe obvious (to some) fact, because it just doesn’t happen a lot. Frankly, I’m still beating the “LIST THE SOUND DESIGNER IN YOUR POSTS” drum loud and hard, because that title is also one that is often left off…. I guess because you can’t see that design in a photo.  So if I have to constantly remind people that Sound Designers are part of the creative team and need to be listed in posts, I can’t imagine how much harder that fight is for Stage Managers. Let’s just think about it for a minute though. What defines a creative team? Surprisingly, I couldn’t find a succinct “Theatrical Creative Team” textbook definition, but I did find this “Advertising Creative Team” definition from smallbusiness.chron.com, and honestly, it totally fits:

A creative team is made up of several key members, starting with a creative director,  and including copywriters, editors, graphic designers and artists, and web developers.  In short, it’s the group of people that comes up with advertising ideas and brings those ideas into being.

This is basically the same for theatre, right?  The Director, Choreographer, Music Director, and Designers are the key members that come up with the ideas and bring those ideas to the stage.  But from the first concept meeting, the Stage Manager is also there. They are running the meetings, taking notes, and sending those notes out to the team.  The Stage Manager is keeping track of all of the action that’s going on in rehearsal and keeps the rest of the team updated daily. They will remind the director of Designers’ ideas, and likewise, let Designers in on things that might help or hurt their design idea—like informing a Sound Designer that a group of actors are constantly blocked to be in a place where a speaker was going to be.  They are the ones firing sound cues in rehearsal and reporting on how it was received by the director, and any good stage manager will practice calls over and over until their “GO” lands at that perfect swell in the music that will ensure every audience member leaves feeling all the feels. That’s art. Stage Management is an art form, and they have every right to be recognized as part of the creative team, and basically, what I’m saying is that the more we openly recognize that fact with our Stage Manager friends, the better the working relationship is going to be.

I mentioned that the Stage Manager probably knows more about the actors than anyone else.  This is really useful to the Sound Designer of a musical. For years, I would make my plans about which microphones to use, which lavs to put on actors, what I would use to change the color of the lavs if needed, what kind of tape or another attachment method to use, and which style of mic belts to assign well ahead of tech on my own.  Many times over the years, I would run into situations where I was changing tape on an actor because they were allergic to what I was using, or switching out a mic belt because of a blocking direction that was just given, or what have you. It was frustrating, and would often create a domino effect if I was short on equipment or supplies.  I soon learned that consulting the Stage Manager while I was preparing these plans alleviated a lot of those issues for me before I even met the actor. The Stage Manager would not only know the nuts and bolts information, like allergies and blocking, but also more personal things, like actor preferences: This actor likes to wear the lav on the left side of the face, that actor has their own mic belt, etc.  Once I realized that I could unlock that info ahead of time, it was a definite level up for me.

The Stage Manager is also very invested in protecting your design and maintaining its original intention throughout the run.  There are sometimes situations in which microphone and lav placement are very specific, and I’ll tell a Stage Manager that if this position moves an inch one way or the other, the sound will change.  Many of the Stage Managers I’ve worked within the past take that information very seriously and will note actors throughout the run for the sake of the design and the production. I’ve also worked with Stage Managers in the past who, during rehearsal, will bring up things I’ve said in the past about which circumstances give us the best sound quality if it looks like the Director is blocking actors to be somewhere or do something that is not conducive to excellent sound quality.  Because I like to keep a line of open communication between myself and my Stage Managers, I’m able to count on them to be my voice, even if I’m not in the room.

When it comes to theatre allies, Stage Managers are definitely a group of people I want on that list.  I want to know that they care as much about my design as I do, and will give their all every night to make sure that it is executed perfectly.  I think that as Designers, we can sometimes feel overprotective of our work, and it’s sometimes hard to remember that the questions, the emails, the regular check-ins from a Stage Manager are all in pursuit of the same goal as us—a perfectly crafted piece of theatre.

 

More Than Line-by-Line

 

Going Beyond the Basics of Mixing

When I started mixing shows in high school—and I use the term “mixing” loosely—I had no idea what I was doing. Which is normal for anyone’s first foray into a new subject, but the problem was that no one else knew either. My training was our TD basically saying, “here’s the board, plug this cable in here, and that’s the mute button,” before he had to rush off to put out another fire somewhere else.

Back then, there were no Youtube videos showing how other people mixed. No articles describing what a mixer’s job entailed. (Even if there were, I wouldn’t have known what terms to put in a Google search to find them!) So I muddled through show by show, and they sounded good enough that I kept going. From high school to a theme park, college shows to local community theatres, and finally eight years on tour, I’ve picked up a new tip or trick or philosophy every step along the way. After over a decade of trial and error, I’m hoping this post can be a jump start for someone else staring down the faders of a console wondering “okay, now what?”

Every sound design and system has a general set of goals for a musical: all the lines and music are clear and the level is enough to be audible but isn’t painfully loud. These parameters make a basic mix.

For Broadway-style musicals, we do what’s called “line-by-line” mixing. This means when someone is talking, her fader comes up and, when she’s done, her fader goes back down, effectively muting her. For example: if actresses A and B are talking, A’s fader is up for her line, then just before B is about to begin her line, B’s fader comes up and A’s fader goes down (once the first line is finished). So the mixer is constantly working throughout the show, bringing faders up and taking them out as actors start and stop talking. Each of these is called a “pickup” and there will be several hundred of them in most shows. Having only the mics open that are necessary for the immediate dialogue helps to eliminate excess noise from the system and prevent audio waves from multiple mics combining (creating phase cancellation or comb filtering which impairs clarity).

You may have noticed that I’ve only talked about using faders so far, and not mute buttons. Using faders allows you to have more control over the mix because the practice of “mixing” with mute buttons assumes that the actors will say each of their lines in the entire show at the same level, which is not realistic. From belting to whispering and everything in between, actors have a dynamic vocal range and faders are far more conducive than mute buttons to make detailed adjustments in the moment. However, when mixing with faders, you have to make sure that your movements are clean and concise. Constantly doing a slow slide into pickups sounds sloppy and may lose the first part of a line, so faders should be brought up and down quickly. (Unless a slow push is an effect or there is a specific reason for it, yes, there are always exceptions.)

So, throughout the show, the mixer is bringing faders up and down for lines, making small adjustments within lines to make sure that the sound of the show is consistent with the design. Yet, that’s only one part of a musical. The other is, obviously, the music. Here the same rules apply. Usually, the band or orchestra is assigned to VCAs or grouped so it’s controlled by one or two faders. When they’re not playing, the faders should be down, and when they are, the mixer is making adjustments with the faders to make sure they stay at the correct level.

The thing to remember at this point is that all these things are happening at the same time. You’re mixing line by line, balancing actor levels with the music, making sure everything stays in an audible, but not eardrum-ripping range. This is the point where you’ve achieved the basic mechanics and can produce an adequate mix. When put into action, it looks something like this:

 

 

A clip from a mix training video for the 2019 National Touring Company of Miss Saigon.

 

But we want more than just an adequate mix, and with a solid foundation under your belt, you can start to focus on the details and subtleties that will continue to improve those skills. Now, full disclosure, I was a complete nerd when I was young (I say that like I’m not now…) and I spent the better part of my childhood reading any book I could get my hands on. As an adult, that has translated into one of my greatest strengths as a mixer: I get stories. Understanding the narrative and emotions of a scene are what help me make intelligent choices of how to manipulate the sound of a show to best convey the story.

Sometimes it’s leaving an actress’s mic up for an ad-lib that has become a routine, or conversely, taking a mic out quicker because that ad-lib pulls your attention from more important information. It could be fading in or out a mic so that an entrance or exit sounds more natural or giving a punchline just a bit of a push to make sure that the audience hears it clearly.

Throughout the entire show, you are using your judgment to shape the sound. Paying attention to what’s going on and the choices the actors are making will help you match the emotion of a scene. Ominous fury and unadulterated rage are both anger. A low chuckle and an earsplitting cackle are both laughs. However, each one sounds completely different. As the mixer, you can give the orchestra an extra push as they swell into an emotional moment, or support an actress enough so that her whisper is audible through the entire house but doesn’t lose its intimacy.

Currently, I’m touring with Mean Girls, and towards the end of the show, Ms. Norbury (the Tina Fey character for those familiar with the movie) gets to cut loose and belt out a solo. Usually, this gets some appreciative cheers from the audience because it’s Norbury’s first time singing and she gets to just GO for it. As the mixer, I help her along by giving her an extra nudge on the fader, but I also give some assistance beforehand. The main character, Cady, sings right before her in a softer, contemplative moment and I keep her mic back just a bit. You can still hear her clearly, but she’s on the quieter side, which gives Norbury an additional edge when she comes in, contrasting Cady’s lyrics with a powerful belt.

Another of my favorite mixing moments is from the Les Mis tour I was on a couple of years ago. During “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables,” Marius is surrounded by the ghosts of his friends who toast him with flickering candles while he mourns their seemingly pointless deaths. The song’s climax comes on the line “Oh my friends, my friends, don’t ask me—” where three things happen at once: the orchestra hits the crest of their crescendo, Marius bites out the sibilant “sk” of “don’t aSK me,” and the student revolutionaries blow out their candles, turning to leave him for good. It’s a stunning visual on its own, but with a little help from the mixer to push into both the orchestral and vocal build, it’s a powerful aural moment as well.

The final and most important part of any mix is: listening. It’s ironic—but maybe unsurprising—that we constantly have to remind ourselves to do the most basic aspect of our job amidst the chaos of all the mechanics. A mix can be technically perfect and still lack heart. It can catch every detail and, in doing so, lose the original story in a sea of noise. It’s a fine line to walk and everyone (and I mean everyone) has an opinion about sound. So, as you hit every pickup, balance everything together, and facilitate the emotions of a scene, make sure you listen to how everything comes together. Pull back the trumpet that decided to go too loud and proud today and is sticking out of the mix. Give the actress who’s getting buried a little push to get her out over the orchestra. When the song reaches its last note and there’s nothing you need to do to help it along, step back and let it resolve.

Combining all these elements should give you a head start on a mix that not only achieves the basic goals of sound design but goes above and beyond to help tell the story. Trust your ears, listen to your designer, and have fun mixing!

An Open Letter to Theatre Reviewers

The play includes more than the actors on the stage

Dear theatre critics and reviewers worldwide,

First off, I’d like to say thank you for the love and enthusiasm you have for live theatre.  While the general population launches forward to keep up with technological trends such as virtual reality, wearable gaming, augmented reality, high-def displays, and holographic video, some of us, yourselves included, are desperately clinging to the lost art of live performance.  While technological leaders spend billions of dollars trying to invent the next piece of equipment that will make that game or movie look so real you can touch it, theatres everywhere are struggling to get people into their auditoriums to witness what can only be described as the pinnacle of reality, and no, the irony is not lost on me.  We theatre-makers appreciate you because you still believe in the magic of theatre. You still come to the shows, you put your phones away, you pay attention, and most importantly, you report. We rely on these reports to get the word out about this beautiful piece of REAL magic that’s happening in the readers’ very same city. There’s just one little thing I want to discuss, though: There’s more to the play than just the actors on stage.

I’m a sound designer working mostly in regional theatre, and I would say 85% of the reviews I read don’t even mention designers or technical crew.  Now, I know that there is a lot that happens in this industry that people on the outside just don’t know about, so I get that, but if you are reading your program before the show starts, you’ve probably noticed that there’s an entire page dedicated to production.  There’s probably an artistic director, production manager, scenic designer, costume designer, lighting designer, and sound designer. There’s sometimes a projection designer, wig designer, music director, pit musicians, composer, choreographer, fight director, and honestly, probably some other designers/directors that I didn’t even know existed.  You will also most likely find a stage manager and sound engineer, a light board operator, spotlight operators, deck crew, wardrobe crew, audio crew, and all of the artisans that built, sewed, and painted all of the physical aspects of the show. At the level of theatre, I work on; I’d say there’s generally an additional 40-50 people contributing to the show that are never seen on stage.  Isn’t that also worth reporting on? The actors do an amazing job of taking audiences out of their worlds for a few hours, but would it even be possible to make that journey in a dark, empty, silent room?

This is not the first letter to theatre reviewers that I have written.  Several years ago, I kept reading review after review of shows that my colleagues and I had designed the sound for and never read even a mention of those designs.  All of those shows were reviewed by the same person, and I emailed him asking why he never reported on what the show sounded like. Given that most of those shows were musicals, I’d say the aural response was a pretty significant one.  His reply to me was that he didn’t know what sound design was, or that it was even a thing. I get that, I really do, but as a newspaper writer, aren’t you something of a journalist? Haven’t you been taught to investigate, research, and find out the whole story?  I gave him some enlightening information on the practice of sound design and waited on pins and needles for an improvement in his next review. I’m sad to report that I never received that satisfaction.

It’s not just sound designers that get this treatment, even though, as a sound designer, it is the area where I am the most sensitive.  Many of the reviews I have read of theatres in my area over the past year have had little to no mention of design or crew. Instead, the reviews have consisted of a paragraph or two sending glowing praise to leading actors in the show, the occasional shout-out to supporting ensemble members, and then the rest of the review reads like a book report telling us what the story is about.  Sometimes there is the rare and seemingly obligatory list of designer names at the bottom of the review like their editor told them they had to say something about design, so they mentioned the designers’ existence to appease the boss. I’m not a reviewer, so maybe I’m wrong, but I just don’t think that dedicating 75% of the column to writing the show’s Cliff’s Notes is a review of what actually happened in that room.

As I mentioned before, I know that what we do is mysterious, and sometimes difficult to understand, so here are some facts about regional theatre and the kinds of questions you should be trying to answer:

  1. Making a play takes a lot of planning!  The design team of a regional show will probably start that planning process 4-6 months ahead of the show’s opening, and meet every 1-2 weeks to discuss the show’s progress.
  2. Making a play also takes money!  A large-scale musical on the regional theatre level could cost $30k-$60k to get the show looking and sounding spectacular.
  3. Making a play takes research!  The next time you’re reviewing a show, take a look at the details.  Do those civil war era costumes match what you remember from history books?  Where did they come from? Did this theatre make them in-house? What about that authentic-looking Mid-Century Modern furniture that is so popular now.  That chair alone would go for $5000, so how did this theatre get it?
  4. Making a play takes technical knowledge!  See all of those lights moving, changing colors, and making interesting patterns on the stage?  Do you hear all of those sound effects swirling around the space? Can you hear the amplified voices blending with the music? This is not a My-First-System kind of thing.  Someone went to a lot of trouble to make that cool stuff work.
  5. Making a play takes coordination!  There are so many moving parts to a play, and once it starts, it has to keep going.  We can’t just skip over the hard parts, and if something goes wrong, someone has to make a quick decision on what to do to keep the train moving.  Who’s doing that, and how? How do the people on the ground know what do to? How much practice does all of this take?

So, reviewers of theatre, again, thank you for your dedication and love.  We really do appreciate it. But please, the next time you go to the theatre, try to answer the not so easy questions, because for this dying art, “the actors were great, and this story is a lot of fun,” is just not enough anymore.  We need you to help expose this world to those who don’t know what they’re missing, and this world has some pretty stiff competition in this modern and highly technical society.

Us VS Them?

 

With all of the forward motion in the entertainment industry over the past few years, I just can’t believe that we still live in a culture of  “Us vs. Them.” I’m talking about actors, musicians, “the talent,” vs. technicians. Even in my list, I’ve used a term I’m used to hearing: The Talent.  Here’s the thing, I am also the talent. The spot ops are also “the talent.” The stage manager is also “the talent.” The deck crew, the A2, the board ops, the wardrobe techs, etc. are all “the talent.”

We’ve stopped thinking about what language that has been used for generations actually means. I cringe every time I hear “actors on a ten” during tech rehearsals. What about technicians and designers?  Should we just power through? Obviously, this announcement actually means that this is the time everyone should take a break, but the language just needs to change. What about the rehearsal report that refers to the actor as “Mr. Smith” but refers to the technician as “the board op?” It only perpetuates an already unspoken and uncomfortable divide between those that work on the stage and those that work just off the stage.

This is not a one-way street; the sentiment goes both ways.  We always hear about “actor-proofing” gear for the stage. What does that even mean?  Does an actor suddenly lose all ability to think logically about the thing they are holding, or sitting on, or walking over once they hit the stage?  I mean, we’re not actor-proofing an actor’s day-to-day life, are we? If what we mean is we are going to make sure a cable is run properly and taped down so that it can be crossed over many times without being a trip hazard, we should probably just say that instead.

The theatre conservatory that I taught for the better part of a decade has a policy that all acting students must serve as a technician on at least one show during their training.  I love this policy, and honestly, a few of my best A2s were actors. Why just hear about the other side when you can actually experience it? The benefits are massive. The actor learns a bit about a technical trade, will be able to incorporate that new knowledge into their craft, and hopefully has a newfound respect for the life and work of the technician.

The tech crew also benefits from working with the actor-tech. One of the coolest and most functional homemade mic belts I’ve ever used was made by an actor-tech who used his prior experience of uncomfortable mic placement to develop a beneficial design. Also, an actor’s knack for memorization has come in super handy when I’ve had to rattle off a list of instructions that needed to be performed in a timely fashion.  And let’s face it, actors almost always know every character and every word to every song way earlier in the process than a technician. It is so much easier to be able to say, “Fix that mic on Sibella” without having to add, “She’s the girl that’s always dressed in pink.”

Acting conservatory classes often feature a lot of exercises that include self-reflection, group trust, and team-building.  Over the years, I’ve heard tech students talk about how awesome it was that they didn’t have to take classes like those, and that has always boggled my mind!  Why wouldn’t you want to take advantage of free therapy? I know (possibly more than anyone) how uncomfortable and difficult it is to open up about feelings and stuff, but think of the personal growth!  If we were all taking team-building classes together, actors and techs, US and THEM, just think of all of the positivity that would come from it. If nothing else, it would let us get to know one another. Maybe get coffee together, maybe collaborate, maybe learn from each other. My challenge to you all is simple: Cut this phrase in half. There is no Us vs. Them; There is only US. It takes all of us to make a show.

I wanted to say something here about symbiosis, and my first Google search turned up this definition:

“Symbiotic relationships are a special type of interaction between species.  Sometimes beneficial, sometimes harmful, these relationships are essential to many organisms and ecosystems, and they provide a balance that can only be achieved by working together.”

I really can’t do better than that.  So just keep reading that definition, and thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

 

Audio Tips For The Top High School Musicals Of 2019

NPR Ed has just published a database of the most popular high school plays and musicals in the U.S. for 2019.  Upon reading this list, I realized that I have designed all but two of these musicals, so I thought I’d share a few experiences I encountered with each.  I’m only touching on the musicals, but here’s the link to the original article if you’d like to follow along at home, and also read about the most popular high school plays in 2019.

Alright, here we go!  (I feel like David Letterman…digital high-five if you get the reference.

#10 Shrek, The Musical & The Wizard of Oz

No, this is not a weird mashup (but that would be hilarious, someone write this right now).  These two musicals have tied for 10th place. I’ll start with Shrek.  

I loved this musical, it was so much fun, and it’s a great option for high school casts.  The biggest hurdle I faced with this show was makeup. As you probably know, Shrek is green, Fiona turns green, and donkey is grey.  There’s also a giant dragon puppet. Shrek almost never leaves the stage. He also has a pretty complicated costume and heavy face makeup, so my first piece of advice is to double-mic Shrek.

Our Shrek wore a little beanie that was never removed, so I integrated microphone elements into that beanie. I asked the costumes department to sew a few small, elastic loops into the inside of the beanie, and threaded two microphone elements (which were Hellermaned together) through the inside of the beanie that popped out the front, landing in a nice little forehead position.  Shrek’s makeup was airbrushed on him each day, and our costume department was nice enough to give me a little bit of that green so that I could paint the elements in the same color.

This paint job had to be touched up about 2 times a week. Also, if your Shrek is wearing a fat suit, I recommend placing his transmitter on the outside of that rig. Depending on the transmitter and the fabric of the suit, they can have some difficulty cutting through all of those layers.  Fiona is a little easier, but has one very important scene to consider—her transformation scene. The transformation, including green makeup and prosthetics, needs to happen super quickly.

Since I could foresee green makeup flying all over that microphone element, I made the decision to have a second element prepped and ready for this quick change. This element was also painted in the Shrek green makeup. Human Fiona wore her element in a forehead position that ran under her wig (but not under the wig cap, which I would normally do), and during the quick change, the Human Fiona wig and element would come off, disconnect from the transmitter, her face was quickly painted green, and then the green element would replace the previous one and run under Ogre Fiona’s wig.  My A2 would handle all of the element work, including holding the capsule in place while the wig was being attached, and dressers took care of the rest of the change around the A2.

Our Donkey wore a head-to-toe bodysuit, so running his element under the hood of the bodysuit to the top of the forehead was my preferred method. Finally, the dragon. The dragon is a puppet that is manipulated by several operators. We had a separate actor voicing the dragon for her very fabulous song, Forever. Our vocalist was visible onstage, so I decided to match her R&B goodness with a gold-grilled handheld wireless mic.

#9 Into The Woods

I have never designed this show, but I really want to, so if you’re reading this blog and you are a producer, call me.

# 8 Seussical 

I designed this show over a decade ago, and it was for a high school company.  In fact, I’m willing to bet that 85% of the companies producing this show nowadays are middle and high school companies.  My biggest challenges on this show were the gear and personnel.

There are 12 principals, and an endless possibility for the ensemble.  I think my total cast size was between 50-60, plus we had an 18 piece orchestra. The school chose to provide their own gear as opposed to renting from my theater, so I had to work with what they had.

For the orchestra, I was given 5 pencil condenser microphones, 1 SM57, 1 SM58, and a handful of DI boxes. Luckily, I had enough DI boxes for guitars, keyboards, and bass. I ended up mic’ing sections instead of individual instruments, as would normally be my choice.  So, I put a condenser microphone on the reed section, brass section, string section, percussion section, and used one as overhead for the drumset. I used the 57 on the snare and the 58 on the kick. Some careful EQ really helped with this skimpy choice of mics.

For actor mics, I was given 12 wireless transmitters, 9 lavs, and 3 choir mics.  Yep, you read that right. Remember, this is a cast of about 55. I put all 12 transmitters on the principals, and 7 lavs permanently on those principals that had the most stage time. Now, I really, REALLY hate microphone swapping and avoid it whenever possible, but for this show, it just had to be done. Luckily we were only swapping 2 lavs between actors.  I put together a mic swap sheet and walked my high school student A2 through the process step by step.

Since I had 12 transmitters, the packs could all stay on their dedicated actor, and the A2 would just have to attach the lav as needed. For the ensemble, I had to bargain with the director a bit. The ensemble blocking was all over the place, and the director was hoping I would just hang those 3 choir mics evenly distributed over the stage, and they would produce the same sound as the principals in lavs.  I told her that one choice mic hanging 6 ft over the head of one tiny 13 year old was not going to give her the sound she was looking for, but 3 choir mics positioned in one area over a group of 40 13 years olds would get her closer. She was not willing to forfeit all of her blocking and make the ensemble completely stationary, so we chose 3 locations where large groups of the ensemble would land for musical numbers, and I hung a choir mic over each location. On the rare occasion that an ensemble member had a pop-out solo, we made sure they were standing next to a principal so that we could get a little more gain from that open mic.

I also had a high school student mixing at front of house, so I preprogrammed the show for him, made it as user-friendly as possible, and walked him through the scenes one by one. Designing this show was the first time that I realized student production does not necessarily equal easy. Given all of the constraints and restrictions, I’m happy with the way the show turned out, and I DEFINITELY learned a lot from that production.

#7 Little Shop of Horrors

Again, I have never designed this show, but it’s one of my FAVES, so if you need a sound designer for this, you know who to call!

#6 Newsies

I did this show a few years ago, and I absolutely loved it.  The cast was phenomenal, the music was great, my biggest and only enemy during this production was sweat.  If you don’t know the show, it basically features a group of stupidly talented dancing newsboys. If the show is done right, and I’d like to think ours was, they are dancing their little hearts out for the majority of the show.  That means lots and lots of sweat.

My regular transmitter protection protocol is to put the transmitter in a non-lubricated condom rolled all the way up with a cotton ball sitting between the connector and antenna. Most of the transmitters were in a neoprene mic belt, which is super protective against a sweaty body.  Because only a few of our mic belts had flaps on them for extra transmitter security, the excessive amount of dancing would sometimes cause my cotton balls to jump out of the mic belt, and onto the ground. I decided to add a rubber band around the length of the transmitter to hold the cotton ball in. In a few cases, I found that transmitters were still getting sweated out, despite the neoprene mic belt and latex protection.  For these few microphones, I added a layer of glad wrap around the transmitter. The sticky seal on this wrap really helps to keep the transmitter dry and happy. Remember to let the seal extend above the microphone connector and antenna. I then put the glad-wrapped transmitter in the un-lubricated condom and added the cotton ball.

I also had a few situations in which the microphone element that was rigged over the ear of the actors picked up an extreme amount of sweat regularly.  One of my favorite solutions for this issue is to add a tiny, rubber washer to the element that sits just above the capsule. The idea is that the washer will help distribute accumulated sweat out instead of down into the capsule. I got mine in a pack of 100 for less than $10 from McMaster-Carr.

#5 Mary Poppins

The most important thing to remember for this show is that Mary Poppins=FLYING!  This is important to remember because

#1:  In addition to her heavy costume, corset, and mic belt, Mary Poppins also wears a flying harness.

#2: Depending on where her take-off and landing zones are, you may not have as much off-stage access to Mary as you might like.

This becomes problematic when microphone troubleshooting becomes necessary. There are also very few moments that Mary Poppins is off stage, so I decided to double mic her.  I originally had her two transmitters on her mic belt under her corset, but I found that their antennas were having a difficult time cutting through all of the layers of heavy fabrics.  It was also quite uncomfortable for our Mary Poppins, given the extra belt of the fly harness.

I ended up moving one transmitter to inside her wig, and the other clipped to the front, outside of her corset.  The wigged transmitter was a Shure UR1M. I think this position would have been too uncomfortable with anything other than a micro-transmitter. The costume department helped by making a wig cap sandwich to help keep the transmitter secure, yet still accessible.  The actor playing Mary Poppins would pin curl her hair and wear a wig cap

#1 over the curls. On top of this wig cap was an added pocket for the transmitter. She then added a wig cap

#2, which was held on with 2 hairpins. The wig was then applied. There were many times throughout this run when we had to switch to the backup mic mid-show, so I’m glad we made the choice to double mic.

#4 Beauty and the Beast   

This is a BEAST of a show!  As we all know, there are many enchanted objects that live in the beasts castle.  If the mouth and/or majority of the face are obstructed by costumes, my advice is to build the microphone into the costume in such a way that it has better access to the mouth.

I chose a forehead microphone placement for our beast, but his hair/mane was worn so low on his forehead that it became necessary to place the capsule of his mic just above his brow line, which was fine, just required a bit of a different EQ.  Most productions, including ours, feature a Beast double for the final battle between Beast and Gaston. This is to facilitate the transformation of Beast to Prince.

There are several Beast lines that occur while the double is on stage, so as not to let on about our theatre magic, I chose to record those lines and have them played back.  There is a lot happening in this scene, and it should be pretty dark and scary, so there’s no need to worry about lip sync lining up. We had a second microphone element mounted on an ear rig for Beast’s transformation to the Prince, so during that costume change, we switched to the second element.

#3 The Little Mermaid

I am currently contracted to design this show, but will not begin the process for another few months.  So far, my biggest concern is, again, flying. While our production does not feature true flying, we will be using a few silks and ropes that actors will climb and swing on.  They will be harnessed, so I will be thinking of careful transmitter placement to guard against the actor or the equipment getting damaged.

# 2 Mamma Mia! 

Mamma Mia!  seems like it would be a pretty straightforward show, and it is.  The thing that required some extra thought for me was the large number of backup vocals.  We did not use pit or offstage singers, so I chose to record our ensemble singing all of the backup vocals.  Our production also features lots of dancing, so we did record some ensemble vocal overdubs to playback and sweeten those very heavy dance moments.

The curtain call of this show features what is basically an Abba concert. For this moment, I had originally planned on our music director and his assistant to be wheeled out on stage while playing live keyboards, but because of a personnel change very close to the opening of this show, we had to scrap that idea.  I’m telling everyone this tidbit because I’m hoping someone out there is able to up the stakes of this glimmering disco concert! I also insisted that the main six use handheld wireless microphones during the concert, and we even managed to add some blingy handle covers for good measure!

 

#1 The Addams Family   

 

It seems only right that this show is in the number one slot, it is definitely in my top three favorite designs.  If I’m being perfectly honest, I didn’t encounter too many issues I needed a creative solution for on this show.  I did get to play with a few fun effects, though. I don’t know if this is the typical casting, but our Cousin It also played the monster in Pugsley’s room.

Both of these characters featured a costume that completely covered the actor’s head. The monster costume was literally built on top of a motorcycle helmet worn by the actor.  As you can imagine, these are not ideal microphone situations. I chose to cover the echo chamber that these pieces created with effects. Since both characters made only sounds and not words, I was able to be pretty heavy-handed with the effects, as I was not worried about intelligibility or tedious balance.

For both characters, I used a dual pitch. I dialed both of It’s pitches extremely high, and both of the monster’s pitches extremely low. We gave the actor some time during tech to experiment with different sounds to see what could be produced through these effects. The outcome was very exciting, and a crowd favorite!

The opening number of the show features ensemble “ah’s,” which were sung offstage for our production. To give this an “other-worldly” feel, I basically drowned them in a large chamber reverb with a shockingly long 9-second decay. The same effect was applied to the women’s ensemble final “ah’s” in The Moon and Me.

Whatever musical you may be working on, remember that you do not always have to be beholden to budget, inventory, or personnel.  Creative solutions are out there, you just have to think outside the box. Also, remember your community if you get stuck! There is nothing wrong with reaching out to your hive, analog or digital, to discover just the right trick!     

Theatre Sound Design

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Being A Musician Makes Me A Better Sound Designer and Engineer

I have been a musician for almost my entire life.  At four years old, I could sing every word of Annie without skipping a note.  When I was in the third grade, I got a piano for my birthday and started the first of many private lessons.  In the fourth grade, I started playing the viola in my school orchestra. I don’t usually count that as one of my instruments because, in orchestra class, I was more interested in talking to my best friend, who played the cello and sat right next to me.  Because of this, I never learned how to read alto clef fluently, and so I faked the viola until I was in the 7th grade and had to quit when my rouse caught up with me. In the 6th grade, I started playing flute and piccolo in the school band. In the 8th grade, the jazz band needed a tenor saxophone player, so I did that for a year since it was a smooth transition from the flute.  Somewhere in middle school, my dad got me a Fender California Series acoustic guitar, and in high school, he got me a Gibson SG. I can play the guitar well enough to be entertaining at a campfire. I was a music major in college, and while there, I took private piano and flute lessons. Most of my music school friends were percussionists, so halfway through my college career, I started taking private percussion lessons, and somehow became the principal percussionist in Campus Band.  So, as you can see, I have a pretty diverse background in music. Music has driven every of my life decisions. So why, when I started my studio recording private lessons, did I not want to play any music?

My degree is in Commercial Music.  My focus in that area was on engineering and producing.  As part of this focus, I was required to write, record, and produce a song once a week.  I would then have a one-hour lesson where my professor would respond to my latest creation.  The expectation was that I would absorb these notes, and my next project would be better. The thing is, it took me a while to get better because I did not want to write or play my own music.  For some reason, once I began the Commercial Music program, I decided I only wanted to be an engineer and producer, and I did not want to be a musician anymore. I asked my professor if I could hire musicians to play for me.  I told him I would do two lessons a week instead of one; I just did not want to play anymore. He did not bend–not even a little. Then he told me something that I have never forgotten. It’s a phrase I use with my students all the time.  He said, “My engineers are not just button pushers.” He is a graduate of the Eastman School of Music, and he is a fantastic trumpet player. He has a wealth of musical knowledge, so it frustrates him when sound engineers don’t feel the music the way he does.  He told me a story about a sound engineer that worked for him in the past. He said this guy did not have a musical bone in his body. He was a button pusher. Mics would come on; mics would go off. That’s it. My professor decided that he did not want anyone coming out of his program to perform like that.  I fought it for a while, but eventually, I gave in, and I’m glad I did. It was the best decision I ever made.

Now I’m a sound designer for theatre, and my musicianship helps inform many of my decisions.  I know to push the music during a big musical swell or interlude. I know that a little reverb in the back makes a small orchestra sound more prominent and lusher.  I know to fade down to underscoring, and I know to gracefully fade up to transition music. It’s not something I think about. It’s something I feel in my body, and my hands just follow.  I know it’s easy for me to say though. I’m a musician, and I have been for most of my life. So what if you’re not a musician? What if you can’t read music, you’ve never touched a musical instrument, but you are a sound engineer?  You don’t have to be a musician to be musical. You don’t have to be a musician to feel the music in your body, and I have a few exercises to help bring the music out of a non-musician’s soul.

First, make playlist of ten songs.  These should be some of your favorite songs, and if they’re contrasting genres, even better.  Next, get some headphones, and head to a quiet room where you can be alone. If it doesn’t creep you out too much, turn off the lights.  Now put on your headphones, and listen to your entire playlist. Note the parts that give you the warm fuzzies, or make the hair on your arms stand up, or force tears to flow from your eyes.  What is happening musically in those moments? Did the instruments crescendo? Was there a vocal effect? Did the reverb ring out after the final note? What about that music made it an experience as opposed to an exercise.  Remember that stuff, and carry it with you into your next gig.

After you’ve done the headphones task, do it again, but this time listen through the best speakers you have access to.  Even if that’s in your car, that’s ok. Listen to the same playlist, and remember those spots you loved. Keep your hand on the volume knob, and gently follow the musical line.  Turn up the volume slightly with that swell. Fade it back down when the line does. This will start to help you attach your warm fuzzy feelings to your technical hands. This is an exercise I love, so I always encourage people to do make multiple playlists and practice this regiment often.  It really does help train your brain and your body to work together.

Another great exercise I like to have my interns and students work on is shadow mixing a movie.  My suggestion is to choose a few movie musicals like Les Miserables, Moulin Rouge, or literally any Disney movie.  Now, sit on your couch, and put 8 pennies on the coffee table in front of you.  For the first movie, keep your pointer and middle finger on your right hand on two of those pennies.  Those are your music faders. Just like the volume knob exercise, move those penny faders with the music.  If you want to add a level of precision, mark a piece of paper with decibel markings to put under the pennies and keep track of the relationship of your pennies to unity.  Do not note things like “Now I am at -10, now I am at -12.” Once you start relying on the numbers, you stop using your ears, and they are your most valuable tool. The muscle memory and relationship between your ears and fingers is what is most important.  After you’re comfortable with the music, watch the movie again, and this time, assign characters to the other 6 faders. This part you will probably have to practice scene by scene, and if there are more than 6 characters per scene, you can assign groups to one DCA, or penny, in your case.  So now, you just repeat the process but adding vocals. When you hear voices get big, follow them with your pennies, and keep doing what you were doing on the first round with the music. If you’re going scene by scene, try filming your hands, and repeat the scene twice. Do your hands have basically the same relationship each time? Are there long stretches of time where you have forgotten to consider music changes? Review the footage, and repeat the practice. The next time you are mixing or designing a show, you just might find that your natural inclination will now be to enhance the musical line with subtle fader movements, thus giving an otherwise flat sound some body and life.  This will be the difference between an acceptable show and an impressively beautiful show.

 

10 Ways To Make the Most of the Quiet Season

The end of the year will be here before we know it. December-January is often a bit of a quiet season for the sound industry, so for my last blog for 2017, I’ve put together a list of ten highly recommended activities to make the most of it.

Step away from the faders.

Rest. It’s been a busy year; you need it. Start the next year refreshed, not exhausted.

Get some exercise

…that’s not just running cables. If it’s cold on your side of the planet, wrap up appropriately and remind yourself what weather feels like. If it’s warm, sit in the sun and take the fluorescent edge off your studio tan

Be an audience member

Watch a play, see your favourite band, take in a film without trying to analyse the convolution reverb. Take your sound ears off for a bit and remember what it feels like to just enjoy a great piece of art.

Do a career stocktake

Look back at the work you’ve done this year. Which projects took you closer to your career goals? Which ones took you further away from your goals? Which were a side-step? Use this to figure out what kind of work you want to do more and less. Maybe you’ll find it’s time for a brand new set of goals altogether.

Have a bit of a tidy-up

The quiet season is a perfect time to do the tedious but essential maintenance that you put off when you were busy with tours and projects. Software upgrades, backups and archiving, PAT tests, clean-ups, and clear-outs. Start the new year with something resembling a tidy studio/working space and a clean system.

Get educated

Dust off that online course, podcast series or webinar that you never quite got around to watching. Time spent investing in your skills is never time wasted.

Polish up your portfolio

If it’s been a while since you updated your CV or your showreel isn’t showcasing your very best work, you’ll need a refresh. If you’re planning to target a different area of the industry, or a different country, in the new year, make sure you have a portfolio that’s tailored accordingly. Resources for Resumes and Social Media

Say thank you

If you have a mentor, remarkable colleague or someone who’s given you a great opportunity this year, this is a perfect time to say thank you and tell them how much you value their support. It’s simple, it doesn’t have to cost much (or anything), and it will be appreciated.
Indulge in some celebrations

Reflect on your achievements and take a moment to acknowledge what you’ve learned and created. You’ve done good work, and you deserve to celebrate it. Glass of seasonal refreshment is recommended.

On behalf of the UK SoundGirls Chapter, thanks to all our members for being part of our SoundGirls community this year. Cheers to the year to come!

Recommended Reading

Surviving the Slow Season

Live Fast, Stay Young

 

Audio Guides and Creating Intimate Audio Outdoors

I’ve been approached to work on audio guides in the past, but for one reason or another, never actually got to work on one. So when a director at the Arcola Theatre got in touch with me about sound designing an audio guide for their summer outdoor theatre project, I said yes, please!

The project was a community performance-based outdoor installation in East London, UK. Supported by the local council, the experience focused on personal and social responses to mental health and well-being. One area would have pop-up performances and participatory activities like group yoga and dancing. The other was a sixty-minute audio guide that would take audience members through a constructed “labyrinth” that explored the process of “getting better.”

In theory, sound design for audio guides is quite straightforward when compared to standard theatre sound. As you’re designing for headphones or earphones, you don’t have to worry about speaker placement, so everything can be done in the studio and delivered ready to go. Of course, you can always have added layers of complexity such as multiple delivery systems and infrared or RF triggers, but ours was a much simpler setup.

We had hired a single wireless Sennheiser 2020-D tour guide system, which would play a single continuous file from five iPods connected to five different transmitters on separate channels for our five audience groups. Each group would be guided by silent performers through a series of different spaces, including a family birthday dinner, doctor’s surgery, surreal interactive WebMD bingo game, and calm centre.

With any audio guide, the most important element is the voiceover, as the audience relies on this for context, explanation, instructions, and in the case of this project, the narrative thread. Recording clear, high-quality voiceovers was, therefore, my main priority.

In an ideal world, I would always record all voiceovers for a show in a professional studio with a voice booth – usually my own. In the real world, budgets and actor availability often don’t allow for this, which is why I had to record the majority of the voiceovers for this project in a rehearsal space in the theatre. I have a portable voice recording booth for situations such as this, but without time to treat the room further, there wasn’t much I could do about the reflections, nor about the level of external noise. At one point, we were competing with a swing dance lesson in the next room – not the best accompaniment to an emotional narrative about mental health!

I know that it’s often possible (though never preferable) to get away with less high-quality recordings in a theatre because when played out through speakers, the acoustics of the venue will mask a lot of the recording faults. Headphones are a lot less forgiving, however, and I was concerned that the less-than-professional recording set up, not to mention the increased noise floor, would lower the overall quality of the guide.

At this point, I turned to what I knew about the technology that we’d be using – or at least, what I could find out about the technology, as I wouldn’t be able to hear the sound through it until the dress rehearsal.

The HDE 2020-D receivers are known as “stethoset” receivers, presumably because they have a stethoscope design where the earphones are attached directly to the receiver by fixed curved handles. The design has practical merit – without headphones, there was no danger of the audience tangling wires or disconnecting the headphones from the receiver pack – but from a sound perspective, it isn’t the best method to deliver a subtle soundtrack. The earphones don’t block out much external sound as headphones would, and the weight of the receiver pack limited how snugly you could secure the earphones into ears. They also had a frequency response of 100Hz – 7kHz.  This range is pretty limited, but it worked in my favour for this particular project. Given that the frequency range used for speech transmission (telephones in particular) is around 300Hz – 3.4kHz, I could filter off most of the noise from my recordings and still have an intelligible recording. Filtering, plus the use of background music, masked most of the room sound in the voice-over recordings.

After the recording sessions, my main task was creating two sixty-minute versions of the guide – one with a female narrator, one with a male. After clean-up and editing the voiceovers were all fine, but I was conflicted about how loud to make the background soundscapes. Without being able to hear my audio through the receivers in advance, in the performance environment, it was hard to judge how present they needed to be. I did know that the audio guide would be competing with a live sound system in another area of the installation – but without knowing how loud or how far away this would be, it was tricky to know how much this would affect the audibility of my guide.

The dress rehearsal was our only chance to test the audio through the delivery system, in a performance scenario, while music was playing in other areas of the installation. I quickly discovered that for the audio guide narration to be clearly audible through the receivers, the gain had to be set to maximum at each level – iPods, transmitters, and the receivers themselves. Not ideal, but at least the audience could hear their guides!

Unfortunately, the ambient noise of the performance environment (a public square), plus the loose fit of the earphones meant that my more subtle soundscapes were often inaudible. While this didn’t seem to hamper any understanding the audience had of the performance, some of the more immersive moments lost their impact. Although maybe it was unrealistic of me to expect this with an urban outdoor performance!

If I have the chance to design another outdoor audio guide, I know that I’ll push for a more powerful playout system (for more volume!) and to have access to the delivery system earlier. I’ll also agree on a production schedule that allows for testing the finished audio in the performance space ahead of the dress rehearsal. Finally, I’ll have a more realistic idea of how much subtlety you can realistically achieve in a design delivered through a tour guide headphone system, and how much is actually necessary. After all, as long as the audience can follow the story, you’ve achieved your key goal.

 

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