That stands for Pastor Pizza Party. I went to one yesterday. A friend of mine from the Christian writers group ACFW is the head representative of God at a local church. His church holds a number of different fund raisers for the events that they host. Yesterday’s fund raiser was at a local (for him) pizza parlor, Angelo’s.
I’ll be the first to admit that I really went to see how his congregation treated him. I couldn’t wait to hear my friend John Otte referred to as Pastor. I know: that’s a little twisted. But I know John as a fellow nerd. He’s a Trekkie deep down (I refuse to call myself a Trekker. Sorry, not politically correct but that’s the way it is.) He regularly posts Star Wars humor on Facebook and I know him as an affable guy with a great sense of humor and a lovely book called “Failstate” that I read a few months ago.
So, to make a long story short, Angelo’s basically lets them take over the restaurant for a night. John supplies the wait staff/bus staff from his church and the restaurant gives the church a percentage of the till that night. Everybody wins. I ordered a veggie pizza to take out and watched as the scene unfolded in front of me – my friend John becoming Pastor John.
And … well, he’s the same guy. No pretenses, no nonsense. He’s just John who works for Jesus. Same thing in our writing group, at the convention, or in a pizza parlor with his flock. I admire that in him. Not everyone can pull that off. But when you live what you preach it makes it easy to remember how you have to behave with the group you are with. I still have to remember to curb my tongue and behave better around people who don’t tolerate me every day. And the more I think about it, the more I’d better change my ways so that my friends get the same courtesy that strangers and professional acquaintances get from me.
Are you walking the walk? Are you less cautious around people who know you well? Do you live the life you espouse in your writing? Good questions that I need to work on starting now. How about you?
(Disclaimer: I am not a regular in the studio. I do just enough work to allow me to take an extra vacation every year. Others may/will differ with my opinions and have different experiences in this field. You have been warned.)
Final installment. The day in the life of a recording artist.
Tuesday a few weeks ago was one of those days where I actually felt like a professional actor for more than a few hours. It was marvelous and entertaining.
Not the studio microphone but it sure was handy for this photo.
I got a call from my agent the week before about a voice over gig on Tuesday and when all was said and done I was hired for the work.
The whole process starts with a script. Somebody at the advertiser’s office decides to do a radio commercial and they jot down some things they’d like to say. It’s not always elegant, but it starts the ball rolling and gives the ad agency an idea of what information needs to be conveyed to the public.
The ad agency comes up with the script and hopefully the client approves it. I’m sure that sometimes dozens or even hundreds of revisions go into the final product. I’ve worked on spots where we changed it at least 20 times in the studio after I’d been sent two or three revisions in my email. Why? Because what looks great on the paper sometimes sounds horrible once you read it out loud.
Next, and it’s a big next, the ad agency books the studio time. That’s not always easy to do on short notice. The great recording places are booked well in advance. What makes a great recording studio is not always the equipment. That makes some difference but in the age of digital electronics the equipment is secondary to the “guy” at the board. I’ve been blessed to work with some great talents on that board. Every one of them made me sound better than I probably am “in real life.”
The magic is not the board itself but what they bring out of the talent. A great board guy is also a great director. The talent is standing in front of the microphone because of some quality in their voice and some modicum of acting ability. But the direction is what makes the spot. They hear things you don’t in the booth. They encourage, cajole, and (sometimes) whip it right out of you. And without them the result is the crappy commercial you usually hear on smaller radio stations. The one where the intern or the overnight guy records the commercial in their spare time and gets $50 a whack to do it so they do as many as they can as quickly as they can. The client thinks they are getting a bargain because they don’t have to hire a studio and a talent. But what they are truly getting is a cheap product. The board guy can spot that kind of hackery and put a stop to it before it gets too far. Not that the intern or overnight guy doesn’t have a good voice, but they cannot do justice to the material when they have nobody to quality check the work.
Now the agency has a time and a place to do the ad. They contact the talent agency (I work with Moore Creative Talent as a voice talent) and ask for a list of candidates based on the kind of ad and who they envision as the “person” they need. Sometimes they need a little child. Sometimes an old woman. Sometimes it’s the same person. I have worked with an actress in the past who can do both quite convincingly. She’s neither. She’s a beautiful woman in her … well, not her twenties and not her sixties. But the simple fact is that she has the most versatile voice I’ve ever heard. And that’s the kind of actress or actor you want in the studio for most things. Sometimes you need a specialist who does cartoon voices, or a simple plain voice that’s totally forgettable (I worry that I might be “that” voice on occasion) and will not focus the attention on the performer but on the product. But the agency does the wrangling and screening of talents for the advertising agency and submits some talents to be considered. Occasionally the agency just gets a call from the client asking for a voice they’ve used before or has heard on the agency’s website. That’s great for agents and talent alike – no auditions, no muss, no fuss, no bother.
On “gameday” you get to the studio a few minutes early. But not too early. They really don’t want you hanging around because the studio is tightly scheduled some days and your sitting there blogging on your tablet takes up a chair. Once you arrive and check in the smart people head to the bathroom. Nothing annoys the client like some talking head stopping hugely expensive studio time so that they can go potty. Get a drink of water, warm up your voice and be ready. Yup, gotta warm up your voice just like your muscles for a run. Your voice sounds different after a few minutes of talking. Your demo (the audio sample they listen to to audition you) was undoubtedly done after half an hour or more of talking. Going in cold means they have to wait for you to be ready and “sound like you.” So, sing in the car on the way over, talk to yourself walking down the street (in big cities nobody will notice) but don’t practice your screaming in the waiting room or the bathroom. Bad form. (Hint – if you must practice screaming at the last second, you can get away with it in the elevator. But make sure it’s empty and do it right after the door closes. It’s best not to be howling as the door opens at the end of your journey.)
Now, the script, the studio, and the talent are all in one place. Along with, in many cases, a representative or two from the advertising agency and the client. They stand or sit on the other side of the booth wall and watch while your technician adjusts the headphones, makes sure the microphone is spaced properly from your face and takes levels. You are isolated and can only hear them when they want you to hear them. But remember, they hear everything you say. So don’t opine on their anything. Be quiet between takes unless you and the other actor are trying variations to see how it sounds. They’ll shut you off if they need to do so.
And, after x number of takes they have something they like (hopefully.) You are shooed out to the waiting area while they mix it and play it for the home office in some cases. Or, if things went badly, sent home and the whole thing rescheduled. Sometimes they change their mind about voices part way through the event. You still get paid but it’s not fun to get sent home.
You may have to repeat the recording and wait for them to do the same thing until they are sure they have the product they want. Once that’s the case you get to go home. Paycheck is in the mail.
Kind of sorta. Your agency will wait for up to 30 days to get paid by the advertising agency. And then you will wait up to 90 days (or more, depending on the agency) to get your check. Minus the agent’s fee. Your agency fee shouldn’t be over 15 percent in most cases. And don’t nag them about the check. Most agents that are reputable will tell you right up front how long you have to wait to get paid. ASK when you start with an agency. Then don’t lose the check. Actor are spazolli’s and lose checks. Many agencies will take another full 15% out of your replacement check if you lose the first one. And for Heaven’s sake, save some of it for taxes. Most of the time you are hired as a contractor and will get a 1099 as a result. You’re the one who has to deal with Uncle Sammy on the taxes. Mommy will not hold your hand.
And now, after months (and sometimes a year) of getting ready your first broadcast credit is ready for the resume. Congratulations – You’re a professional actor. I still have a copy of that check in a frame. It’s a big deal.
What’s next? Do you branch out and try for on camera work? Modeling (If I can, anyone can) or a play? You’ve opened the door, now walk through and be blessed in your travels. And try to keep that perspective: success in this business starts with a blessing. If God hadn’t given you that raw talent and drive to make it you’d still be just admiring the people in the business. He’s given you the gift, now go chase it!
Thanks for sticking with the series. And, as usual, another tuba video for your pleasure.
Thirty minute morality plays in color with a “buddy” subplot would be the best way to describe Adam 12. They were done in the 1960s and 1970s but the themes carry on to today. Perhaps more schmaltzy than the current era prefers but the underlying stories haven’t changed.
I’m most interested in their approach to two things on the show: drunk driving and domestic violence.
Drinking and driving fifty years ago was “bad” but not awful. The characters were usually colorful. Sometimes obnoxious, occasionally “whacky.” But that has changed over the years in how television portrays that crime and fortunately most jurisdictions have taken a similar stance. DUI is no longer a laughing matter. And in my mind that’s a great thing. I was one of those during that era who drove drunk. More than once. And I regret it. I quit doing it while I was in college. I never had an accident, never hurt anyone, but it was wrong. And thankfully the law is much more strict now than ever before with that crime. (Just for the record I truly haven’t done that in 30 years. That’s a story for another time.)
Domestic abuse is another story. They treated it but it’s obvious that it was a pain in the butt more than a serious crime as it was portrayed on the show. The cops didn’t want to deal with it, usually left without anyone in bracelets and generally just told them to work it out. I harken back to my days doing that job and I felt the same. The people who fought with each other every day and then involved the police were not fun to deal with. They ruined your day and took you away from other duties. Their houses were a mess, smelled bad, the people were unlovely and it as dangerous as could be. You never knew when one of the idiots involved would jump you or your partner. Or, worse yet, produce a weapon. Frankly we just hoped they’d quietly move to another jurisdiction before we had a murder on our hands. You knew a specific list of addresses by heart. You knew the participants by name and where they kept the keys to the car and the .44 magnum snubnose. (If it hadn’t been pawned to buy booze until payday.)
But up until recently *(relatively speaking)* nobody went to jail unless the other party demanded it.
That has changed 180 degrees. If there’s a problem and anyone is physically damaged many jurisdictions require an arrest to be made. The discretion has been eliminated. I have mixed feelings on that. I don’t approve anyone beating on anyone else in a marriage. Nor do I think that serious injury should be tolerated. But there is a very small gray area in these things that sometimes would best be served by not arresting people and getting them some counseling instead. There are clearly times when people are so emotionally overwhelmed that they need to be talked to, not cuffed. Sometimes a thrown plate is just that – not an attempt to hurt but a blown fuse and they will never do it again. Unfortunately, and usually, most of the violent ones have done it before and will do it again. Sadly many of the victims won’t seek help or press charges. I have one experience in particular that comes to mind and thirty years later it still disgusts me. But the laws have changed.
Perhaps taking away the discretion is more to get the cops off the hook than anything else. I think that’s what many officers prefer. I may have welcomed it myself. No second guessing in that case. But I’ve been on other calls where both parties were so at fault that arresting one of them was a statistic not a solution. And other times it was going to do more damage than good. It was clear that things had settled down, nobody was truly hurt (no bruises showing, an anger and hatred displayed that told you they might be lying just to get even and nothing else) and they would benefit from a talk but someone else had called it in. Now the police have a problem and somebody has to go.
Should it always be that way? And if not, when would that be? I’m not going to attempt to answer that one. Instead I’ll take the words of Officer Pete Malloy as my guide, “The only black and white thing in this job is the car.”
Again, I hope nobody misunderstands that sentiment. I’m against domestic abuse. I just don’t know what the threshold should be for adding an arrest record to the equation.
But if you watch enough episodes of Adam 12 you’ll see stories that haven’t changed in my lifetime. Or that of my parents. As a matter of fact they go right back to Adam and Eve… more than a bit of finger pointing there when they got busted for eating things they shouldn’t.
When you get a chance to spend a few hours turning your brain into a doughy substance, head over to Hulu.com and watch an episode. I know I enjoy them. And if you’re too young to remember the 1960s, make sure you have mom… or possibly grama… there to explain what hippies were. (You can still see them on display at Whole Foods on Tuesday afternoons. Check out the old people on the patchouli aisle.)
(Disclaimer: I am not a regular in the studio. I do just enough work to allow me to take an extra vacation every year. Others may/will differ with my opinions and have different experiences in this field. You have been warned.)
Part four in an agonizing series on voice over work.
Not the studio microphone but it sure was handy for this photo.
Back so soon from the tuba video? Well, today’s post will be a bit shorter in any event.
Once you’ve gone through the agony of training and doing your demo you’re ready to tackle the market. You have two routes to take at this point, and they are not mutually exclusive. The internet and the agencies.
The first route is the unconventional one – internet based services. Essentially you set up a studio in your house and try to get work recording for people elsewhere. I started this way and it was pretty interesting. I spent the money to buy the software, microphone, cords, stands, etc., and then joined Voice123. I put up my demo on the site and then auditioned like a mad man trying to get work. This was back when the service first started out and there were under 1000 artists on the site. Competition was tough, but it was not as crazy as today. Now, with thousands of people signed up, the people seeking to cast a voice spot have a lot more voices to choose from. And a lot of them are bad.
Well, shouldn’t that make it easier for a good talent? You’d think so, but what it does is make the producers skeptical about who they’re seeing in the audition box. Ten years ago when I started out doing this I auditioned 82 times before I got my first paid gig. It was wonderful to finally get a paying job. And they wanted it in 5 hours. I had to leave my job, run home and record the piece while they listened in on the phone. But it paid very well. I grew discouraged after a time because as the number of talents on the site grew some of them were obviously waiting for each job to post and dashing off a response. More than once I recorded my submission and submitted it within an hour but found that 24 people had done one before me and they’d shut it off due to the response. Voice123 has now changed their system so that can’t happen and that’s a good thing. But I got out of the habit and don’t audition as much as I should.
The other route is to get in with an agency. Talk to other actors about who they work with locally. Some agencies are… well, not much fun to deal with. They dont’ do a very good job for the actor and you can die of old age and frustration waiting for a job. Find one that is looking for talent and then follow their submission guidelines. If you know someone who works for them use that sparingly. Remember, if you are both going to be in competition for the same kind of work it’s mighty hard to recommend anyone to replace you!
The tough part here is that many agencies won’t really even talk to you unless you have some experience. I got that through Voice123 and reading for the blind. But the honest fact is that I still wouldn’t be working for an agency if I wasn’t also a pretty good Santa. That fat guy opened the door for me for on-camera and voice work. My credentials and photos as Santa allowed me the chance to talk to the agents and then once they got to know me I was able to do the voice work. You will have to gird yourself for rejection. The first time I talked to an agent she told me to “Just throw your photo and stuff away, it will save me the time of doing it myself.” I sent her the photo, demo, and resume along with some sheets of plastic to laminate the picture. In my cover letter I recalled our phone conversation and told her they’d make a good coaster or dartboard but don’t throw them away. I got an on-camera gig two days later from the same agent.
What’s the point? Agents are overwhelmed with new talent. Most of the people who submit are good looking, talented, and probably great people. But the agencies see dozens if not hundreds of them a week. And unless you stand out you will sink into the pool and vanish. But do it in some way that is not going to frazzle or annoy the agents. They have long memories. Be creative, it’s all about marketing.
Beware of agencies with a “door fee” to let you in their talent pool. The simple fact is that if you’re any good you’ll make them money. They should want you if you have potential, and not be demanding up-front money. It is not unreasonable for them to ask for a small fee (under $100) to do the work needed to get you into their system, put you on the web page, list you with major clients, and promote you a bit. The fee typically covers any mailings you might get during that first year. But if they keep asking for more money you should run away. I occasionally pay a small amount to my agency for the web presence but they take it out of my next check. That way they have an incentive to keep me working. And they haven’t asked in a few years.
Once the agency takes you on, do a good job. Take the low paying stuff they test you out on at first. Don’t complain, be on time, bring a beverage to sip, have your asthma inhaler with you and don’t wear clothing or jewelry that makes noise when you move. The microphones will pick up everything, including that pinky ring banging on the copy stand.
If you prove to be a consistent talent they will work hard to keep you busy. It’s in their best interests. Am I busy? Nope. I’m not a full-time actor nor do I hound my agents. But I also know that I’m not the voice every client wants, nor the face they seek for industrial training films. And I’m good with that fact. As Harry Callahan said, “A man’s got to know his limitations.”
So, you’ve made it this far. The next step is the actual job and how that goes when you get to the studio. We’ll tackle that in the next installment on Wednesday. For now, please ask yourself what your goals are and are you willing to be rejected 82 times or more before you get a job. Can you take agents laughing at your photo and not putting you to work? Can you wait patiently for them to call or will you make them nuts with constant inquiries about jobs? And, finally, what will it be like when you get to the studio that first time?
