The Ears are the Pathway to the Soul (Part II)

It occurred to me, that in Part I, any allusions made to the title were vague at best. And in trusting to my mantra of moving forward (to chagrin of editors everywhere...hey, this is the blogosphere) I decided to end what I had begun, with some outwardly spiraling and indulgent personification, and begin anew. Hopefully with a little more old fashioned concrete this time.

The writing I keep alluding to in my recent posts is not in fact this blog, but a screenplay which began as a story which began as a poem which found its seed in an experience I had many years ago. After a two month adventure through Costa Rica, I found myself in Tucson, Arizona. Perhaps in an effort to recapture that spirit I had found in the rainforest, I set about trying to create it on paper in various coffee houses of the Old Pueblo.

The early writing reads more like nonsense than anything else. Stream of consciousness that I wrung from my brain to the page. Those first sessions, which I planned to be the first section of the story titled "Synthesis," were an attempt to establish a theme, or a feel, using evolution as a blue-print and the infinite green of the rainforest as my inspiration. I imagined a literal stew that suggested, rather than foreshadowed, the arcs of the main characters (to be introduced in the following section). The other overall themes, in addition to synthesis, were to be symbiosis, experience, and expression. The would lay out in that order, for their nature progression was clear to me (as much at the time as it is now).

The project proved to be more ambitious than my resolve could handle. Perhaps a short story would have been a better start. But with evolution, an open-ended philosophy, as my blueprint, I should have known my efforts would be futile.

--

It started with a rain storm. I sought shelter in a covered porch, in a small caribbean village, as I waited for friends to arrive. Just outside the porch was a small palm plant, with its leaves like outstretched hands to collect the rain. I watched the rain cascade from one leaf, to a leaf below it, like a natural fountain. And I was hooked. This was the first seed of my story, which I was to nurture for the next couple years.

But after those few years, as my writing proved to have mixed results, the passion to finish the story faded away. I had moved to Los Angeles. A career in production was now my focus, after years of avoiding a career of any kind.

Well, as evolution would have it, my career twisted and turned and dropped me, like the water on the leaves, in the film business. As a boom operator, I help directors capture sound and achieve their vision. More specifically though, I listen. I experience the production largely through my ears, because they are the primary judge of the job I am doing.

It is a job that promotes quite an intimacy with the script, with the words that are the blood flowing through the organs of the film. They flowed through my ears, into my own blood. And it was only a short matter of time until they became a part of the essence of the writer organ of my own soul. I ran my hands over their face, pulled the chair out for them, watched them as they showered, dressed.

Having such an intimacy with words as my livelihood, combined with the already extensive background in writing, has naturally led me to join the ranks of all honest Angelenos, and to write a screenplay of my own. The story? Well, you could say I already have something in mind.

When simply eating your cake is enough

Experience should not be vulgarized based on what is not experienced. Just as it should not be extolled when one has it and another does not. It just should be what it is, and appreciated thus.

The Ears are the Pathway to the Soul (Part I)

Previously I wrote about the transition of a sound professional from the field of film to music. In light of my recent domestic developments, home recording and mixing has become less of a reality. In its stead, I have rediscovered...this. The written word. Is it any mistake that an individual who listens to words as his occupation would eventually take to composing his own?

For the record, I wrote seriously well before I became involved in film. In fact, I received a bachelor's degree in nonfiction writing. The intention was a segue into a career in journalism...or perhaps documentaries. As it turned out, the doors opened up to reveal a pathway into long-form, scripted film, but as a sound technician instead.

As I have said before, a week's worth of drenching rain and mischievous mold conspired to kick me out of my house and away from my recording equipment, and what I thought was to be my most creative outlet, my number one mistress, my music.

The more steps you take to avoid your destiny, the closer you get to it.

Now, I don't know if I believe that...all the time, at least. But in this case, my old lady, the written word, is ringing me nonstop wondering where I have been. I tell her, "I'm here, baby. I never stray for long. Besides, you knew the deal going into this, my previous allegiances."

"Hmph," she says, as if she's heard it one thousand times. And she has.

Racking Focus: From Crew to Compression to...

Without a doubt, film is an incredible art form and an expressive creative engine. But not for everybody. While directors give in to every one of his or her creative indulgences, crew members all have to put their heads down and make it happen. The act of simply filling a role becomes devoid of inspiration and creativity. It becomes just a job.

I recently finished work on a film. It was hard. Just a two man crew (sound crews are usually three). As the boom operator, I did the job of two people, and under the circumstances, I did a fine job...WE did a fine job, at least that's what my mixer told me. We won't really know until the movie comes out. The last two weeks of the movie, the mood of the crew got worse and worse, but my attitude was more like senioritis. I couldn't wait for the time off when I could pursue my own creativity, not the director's (who in this case plays the role of the teacher). I had had enough of film for the time being. Now it was music time.

My music.

I knew I wanted to record a new demo. I've been recording at home for years, and at times to a certain degree of success. But this time I wanted it to be REALLY good. Meaning, well written songs and production that didn't sound like I recorded on a plastic, two-channel interface. So recording right away was not a concern. I decided to just focus on composing, and to let the songs grow organically to the point that they felt complete.

It's an interesting transition, to go from a social collaborative effort of a Hollywood movie where there are judgements coming from all sides and at most times I was merely a laborer, to the solitary job as a composer/engineer/producer. Both rival each other in the energy they demand, but the sources of those energies come from different places (as well as the pressures). Yet both require the pursuit of excellence, which I suppose is the ultimate and only demand that is important.

So far, I have the most basic tracks of two songs recorded. In the process of writing this blog, I travelled from work (hey! still got to pay rent), and had to temporarily vacant my home due to a mold infestation, which has thrown a major wrench into my recording engine.

The time (and lack of progress on this project) has allowed be to distill the theme of what I want to say. The field of sound is broad, and it offers one that chooses to accept it technical and creative challenges a number of different paths. And those paths are not always exclusive. That is the important thing. Not how good my Yamaha acoustic sounds recorded through a plug-in compressor. But that, one month you CAN work on a film, and just use your technical expertise to work towards a greater whole. And the next month you CAN be a musician, fulfilling your own creative impulses, or even other musicians' (if you can get work as an engineer or mixer or even ProTools editor). You CAN do this along as you have the energy to make those shifts and, perhaps more importantly, keep up your contacts in both areas.

The question for me now is what to do while my home studio is down. I keep composing. I keep writing, because composing words is such a valuable exercise for the mind. I keep reading on a number of subjects. And I try to expand my networking web everyday, looking for jobs on the film/TV side all the while making new friends on the music side with the hopes of creative insight and new professional opportunity.

When you can't even work for free

A couple weeks ago, I had a conversation with a friend of mine who mixes features. She said something that, at the time, I found hilarious, "It's a great time to work if you're willing to work for free." I had just passed up a couple days on a freebee, credit only, contact only shoot, for a couple less exciting but more profitable days working on a demo project. The way we left the conversation was that passing up the job was nothing to worry about, that there would be plenty of opportunity to do jobs like that in the weeks and months to come.

But the facts coming to light now are not so funny: a lot of supremely qualified operators out there can't even get the free jobs. The competition for low/no budget production is fierce.

It makes me wonder if any of this low budget material, presumably being crewed by highly skilled individuals, will ever be seen by anyone. Or whether most of these "short films" are just reel builders that will remain ignored and unseen like the resumes of hundreds of qualified crew members. 

To me that sounds like a lot of wasted talent.

SoundIndividual.com Coming Soon!

After a couple afternoon banging my head against the wall with FTP clients, file managers, DNS resolution and an assortment of HTML files, I finally have the website near publication.

I am excited to use both SoundIndividual.com and this blog to document experiences and to make my services as a sound mixer more available.

Special thanks go out to Reza Mousavi for being a major advocate in my web presence and for getting me fired up to see this through. 2009 will rock.

Brilliance by osmosis

This blog was originally going to be subtitled, "or, a few more thoughts on last night's DGA awards," but I couldn't wrap my head around what I wanted to say about how inspiring it was to be in a room full of captains who are in it for more than just seeing their pretty faces on screen, who have to stick with the dream of bringing the vision to life through many painful stages, and how I suddenly wanted to join their club. As it happens, yesterday's news becomes two days ago's news. 

In the meantime you have spent the day at the pool at the Beverly Hilton waiting for Oscar nominees to finish an expensive lunch and take a group picture (they actually call it a "class picture") so that your modest entertainment news outlet can interview them.

The day passes by without much to note. Just jokes on how the only way things could go worse than last week is if Danny Boyle actually falls in the pool (our set up was close enough so that this was a possibility).

When in fact, nothing so drastic actually happens. But your crew does interview Robert Downey, Jr. right off the bat. And as he gratuitously gives an example of an actor shifting personalities on camera, he questions the sound mixer about what animal could be in the bush next to him/her that fascinates him/her so much and then calls him/her a bitch. The display takes everyone by surprise. Then he does it again. This time it's more brutal. You can't tell if he's trying to be funny, if it's the sardonic asshole come out to play, or if he just doesn't care. I guess that's why we love him so much.(?)

Could this life be what I dreamed was out there in that near decade sitting behind desks after college?