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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

 

How to be Lucky

“I’ve never had those kinds of well-paid opportunities happen, not everyone is lucky.”

“She’s so lucky she got that job, I’d kill to work there.”

“You’re so lucky to be doing what you love! I wish I could do that.”

Any of these sound familiar? I saw one of them on Facebook today. One of them is something a friend said to me a few days ago.

Up until recently, I got annoyed when someone described me as “lucky.” I would have said, that where I am in my career today has very little to do with the vagaries of fate, and everything do to with hard work. But recently I was reminded of the well-known quote attributed to Seneca the Younger: “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.” And I realised, I am pretty lucky.

I have spent the past twenty years preparing for my current career and creating opportunities. I invested in training and qualifications. I moved to the other side of the world on a one-way ticket where there were more chances for work. I learned how to run a business as well as configure a console. I joined organisations, I went to events, and talked to everyone I could. I learned from other people’s experiences and my mistakes. I built up my skills and my portfolio, and then when the opportunities arose, I took them. According to Seneca, I am lucky. And I know – at the risk of sounding like a motivational speaker – you can be too.

Be prepared

If your dream sound job came up tomorrow, would you have all the skills and experience you need to take it? What do you have to do to be ready for that job? You need to be prepared not just for when opportunity knocks, but for everything leading up to it – those smaller jobs which will gradually take you to a place where you feel capable of doing the more prestigious jobs.

Back in June 2004 I really wanted to be a radio sound engineer, ideally working in radio drama. I’d got as far as the practical test round of interviews for a trainee sound engineer position at the BBC in London. It was my third application for a trainee position, and the feedback from the previous one was to get more hands-on experience. A colleague in my department suggested trying a local arts radio station, as they were always looking for volunteers. I didn’t follow it up. On the day, the test went fine, but I didn’t get the job. The feedback they gave me was that they were looking for people with practical radio experience. I had the opportunity to get a job that would put me on the path to my chosen career – but when it came to it, I wasn’t prepared.

Create your own opportunities

If you’re relying on opportunities coming from one or only a few sources, you need to broaden your horizons. Think about the people who could recommend you for jobs, not just within sound people who work in adjacent fields. Venue owners, studio owners, production managers, tour managers, producers, directors, lighting designers, other sound engineers. Make connections offline and online and maintain those connections – relationships take time to develop. Make sure you’ve got a consistent, professional profile online, whether that’s a personal website, or an online professional directory like the Directory of Women in Professional Audio and Production (sign up if you haven’t already). The adage “you never know where your next job is coming from” is a persistent one for a good reason: it’s true. And the people who might be the ticket to your next step on the career ladder can’t give you anything if they don’t know you’re out there.

Take action and keep taking it

Getting up and doing it is the first real step – no one gets lucky by waiting for the world to come to them. But what if you’ve done all the preparation you feel you need, you’ve busted a gut creating opportunities, and you’ve yet to feel that magic “lucky” moment? Keep at it. Look at learning the kinds of skills that will attract not just the jobs you’re looking at now, but the ones in the future. Reconnect with contacts who’ve dropped off your radar and tell them about the latest brilliant show, album, or project on which you worked. The more prepared you can be, and the more opportunities you can make, the luckier you will become.

Whatever your goals for the future, in every possible way, I wish you good luck in achieving them.

 

 

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.

 

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.

 

Radio Mics and Foley – UK SoundGirls Workshops with the ASD

On a warm day at the end of June, the UK chapter of SoundGirls had our first shared events with the Association of Sound Designers, in the form of two workshops about very different and equally fascinating sound skills.

First up “Pin the Radio Mic on the Actor,” given by sound engineer and expert “mic hider” Zoe Milton. A vital skill for anyone wanting to work in theatre sound, fitting radio mics is also important for film and TV location sound and in any situation where you want to conceal a body mic on a performer.

Zoe started by taking us through a brief history of the use of radio mics in the theatre. Back in the late 1990s and early 2000s, bandwidth restrictions limited the number of RF channels which meant that even large West End shows had far fewer transmitter packs than cast members. Les Miserable shared sixteen packs between their cast, which resulted in upwards of 100 pack swaps per night!

Fortunately, advancements in radio mic technology and a reduction in the costs of RF licensing in the UK means this doesn’t happen as much these days. Of course, Sound No. 2 and No. 3’s are still expected to be able to swap mic packs within a matter of minutes if necessary, especially on large shows.

Next, we had a closer look at some of the various mic techniques used to accommodate different hair lengths – including no hair – and performance types. Zoe reminded us that that fitting a radio mic is as much about teamwork and communication as it is about technique. You work in very close proximity with the performer, and you have to make both the experience and the position of the mic and pack comfortable for them. You also have to make final decisions on the mic position that will provide the best and most consistent sound for your Sound No. 1 or sound operator. There can be a big difference in the sound of a mic fitted at someone’s hairline, and one fitted over an ear.

As well as the performer and the Sound No. 1/sound op, radio mic fitters also have to take potential costumes, hairstyles, wigs, and hats into consideration. Zoe emphasized the importance of speaking with costume and wig designers as early in the production process as possible so that you know where you might be able to hide a mic and mic pack. We looked in detail at positioning mics within hats and discussed solutions for performers with no hair (creating an ear “hanger” works well). Zoe also talked us through how to hide mics and mic packs under wigs. I was particularly impressed with one solution that Zoe and a colleague devised for an opera singer who shed his clothing after his entrance, which meant it wasn’t possible to put his mic pack in his costume. Instead, they had a half-wig created to blend in with his natural hair and give them enough volume to hide his mic pack on his head, within his hairstyle.

After giving us a rundown of the best accessories to use, including the benefits of using wig clips over the tape and how to effectively colour a mic cable, we had the chance to get up close and personal with fitting a mic ourselves.

I came away from the workshop with a much clearer idea of the solutions available when fitting radio mics, as well as feeling slightly guilty about how much I rely on tape (more wig clips, I promise, Zoe!).

In the afternoon, Tom Espiner introduced us to the fascinating world of Foley sound creation. Tom is an actor, puppeteer, theatre practitioner, and Foley artist, who has provided Foley for film and TV as well as live opera and theatre.

With the technical assistance of Gareth Fry, Tom demonstrated the process of recording Foley, using various objects and textures to build up multiple layers of created sound effects. It was fascinating to see Tom take everyday objects such as twine and rubber bands and turn them into snakes sliding across rocks and flicking their tongues.

After we’d seen the expert do it, it was time for us to have a go. We had a lot of fun adding horse hooves (a classic) and saddle noises to a scene from The Revenant and learning what might have gone into making the sound of a dinosaur hatching from Jurassic Park.

Later on in the workshop, we looked at adding live Foley to stage plays, and I learned how difficult it is to keep one hand making the sound of a babbling brook while the other creates splashes in sync with another actor, as they mime washing their hands. In one of the most enjoyable exercises of the day, all of us contributed to creating a Foley soundscape to illustrate a particularly descriptive piece of text, creating the sounds of a deep underground lake in a mysterious land.

As well as being very informative, both workshops reminded me how important it is to get out from behind your computer or console, try something new and get your hands wet literally, as it happens. I think all attendees left inspired to try new techniques and find new ways to make sound.

Many thanks to the Association of Sound Designers for offering the opportunity to our members.

 

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.

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.

The Important Art of Documentation in Theatre Sound Design

When you work on a production, you never really know what sort of life it’s going to have after that initial run or tour. A production you designed two years ago may suddenly get another run, and you realise you need to dig out all your sounds and designs and make them work in a different venue. Or, you need to hand it over to an associate to do the same. It’s at times like these that you discover the value of two things: accurate, detailed documentation and an organised filing system.

I know that documentation and filing are the least exciting aspects of a creative sound role, but I cannot overemphasize how much they will save your bacon when you need to recreate the sound design for a show. In the time-sensitive, pressured environment of theatre and theatrical productions, it’s very easy to let documentation lapse, so you need to either delegate the task or make time for it. You don’t want to be tearing your hair out the night before tech week kicks off because you have no idea where you put that crucial sound effects file you recorded four years ago.

Here’s a starter list of what you should be captured during the production of a show.

Rehearsals and production weeks before tech week

  1. Make sure you have copies of all your design drawings, whether you created them in CAD software or hand-drew them. If they’re hand-drawn, scan them so you have an electronic copy as well. Ask for model box photos as well (or take your own), so you have a visual reference point for this production.
  2. Make sure you have an electronic copy of the script, score, or both, and any additional material e.g. song lyrics, prologue/epilogue, as well as paper copies.
  3. Take photos of any pictures, sketches, diagrams, props, or anything else that were used in the rehearsal process or in your own creative time that directly influenced your sound designs. They may come in handy if you need to create any new files for subsequent runs.
  4. Label each sound file accurately as you create it, including documenting the recording process if you recorded it from scratch.
  5. Label and save all venue tech specs and sound hire quotes
  6. Label and save all photos taken during venue visits, including any notes about potential speaker/equipment positions

Tech week to press night

  1. Once speaker positions are set, take photos from multiple angles to accurately capture positions. If you have to hand a show over to an associate further down the line, it’s far easier to show them a picture of how you positioned a particular speaker in a venue than explaining it.
  2. Note positions of racks, microphones, processors, desks, screens, comms, cue lights, everything that’s specific to that show.
  3. If there’s anything particularly unique about this production that you may need to remember at a future date, write it down.
  4. Keep sound cue sheets and update them as necessary, including a record of deleted cues. They may be reinstated for future productions.
  5. Make sure you have an accurate list of hired sound equipment, including the hire company, any existing venue equipment used in the show, and any equipment purchased by the production
  6. Save all show and desk files

After press night

  1. Save copies of the final show files and desk files with copies of all final sound files.
  2. Save any sound files not used in the show to a separate folder. You may need them for subsequent productions
  3. Save all documentation, including sound design plans, final cue sheets, radio mic plans, scene maps, etc.
  4. Confirm where any sound equipment purchased by the production company will be stored following the end of the show’s run and save that information in a document
  5. Label everything clearly and put in a single folder so you can quickly find everything for that show
  6. Back up everything!

Managing your documentation should be an integral part of your sound design work, not an addition to it. Do it once and thoroughly for each production, and you’ll save yourself a lot of potential headaches in the future

Weapons Up: Explorations into Radio Drama

Over the past six years, my main areas of work have been as a sound designer, voice actor, and producer for commercial, gaming and animation voice demos,

These disciplines often overlap and complement each other. I’ve provided voice-overs for plays that I’ve sound-designed, for example, and actors for whom I’ve produced voice demos have recommended me as a sound designer to directors. But sometimes an opportunity arises that is such a great combination of your skills and interests, you wonder why you didn’t think of exploring it earlier. My introduction to sound design for radio drama was this kind of opportunity.

Back in October last year, I received an email from a voice actor friend, who approached myself and two other actor friends with the idea of creating a showcase for our voice acting skills, in the form of an audio, or radio, drama. We would write a short script for four female actors, record and produce it and then send it out to radio drama directors and producers who we thought might be interested in hiring us.

The UK has a long history of radio drama, mainly thanks to the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC), which broadcasts hundreds of radio dramas every year. The creative possibilities of radio dramas appeal to me both as a sound designer and an actor. For me, it’s about learning how to tell stories without relying on what you can see.

Initially, I planned on acting in one or more roles in our fledging radio drama and doing all the sound design and mixing. Then in a flash of inspiration one afternoon I drafted an initial synopsis for a dramatic science-fiction thriller, and after a few drafts, it became apparent that while everybody loved the story, nobody else in the team was keen to take on the task of actually writing a script based on it. And so I found myself writing, sound designing, mixing and acting in a sci-fi radio drama called The Converged.

Once the script was ready, we booked a studio that could accommodate four actors in the same studio, found an experienced director and recorded three takes of the script in an hour-long session.

My first task after I got the recordings back to my studio was more editorial role than sound design or mixing. I had to decide what take to use for each line. As our script was short and we weren’t under any pressure from a commercial publishing company, we had the luxury of having two hours of rehearsal time with our director beforehand, and being able to record three full takes plus pickups and efforts (grunts, groans, and other vocalisations). Rehearsals and multiple takes are pretty much unheard of in the commercial work of radio drama – most directors aim to record between 60 – 90 minutes of material per day, which doesn’t leave any time for rehearsals and limited time for multiple takes.

So it was a bonus to have three full takes of the script. The director had given me a few notes on his preferences, plus I had made notes during the recording session – one of the benefits of acting in the play as well. But I would still need to make the final choices of which take to use for each line.

Each character was recorded on a separate track during the recording session. The engineer had also kindly labeled the different takes, so I had three audio files per character, one for each take, which I could lay them out in Protools on separate tracks. I immediately discarded the first take, as a quick way to reduce my options. That left takes two and three, which I could A/B to find the take for each line that I thought worked the best. I did this for each character – fortunately, there are only five in total!

The next step was editing, made much easier by the fact that I didn’t have to do much cleanup, thanks to high-quality recordings, and processing on each vocal channel.

Then I left the voiceovers alone for a little while to concentrate on the next important piece in the process: planning the sound design.

My two main reasons for writing a sci-fi script were a mix of creative and purely practical.  There is a lot of scope for creative sound work within the sci-fi genre, and I already have an extensive library of sci-fi sound effects. Normally, I like to create as many sounds from scratch as possible, but I knew I would only have a short window to design and mix the first episode, hence wanting to stay within the boundaries of what I could already accommodate.

I also knew that if we wanted to produce more episodes of the drama (and we do – there’s a cliffhanger at the end of Episode 1 for this very reason), I would need to have a plan of the overall tone and style for the design.  Throwing in random sounds that sound impressive won’t work for an episodic drama where the sonic world needed to be consistent enough to be recognisable from episode to episode, and adaptable enough to sonically create a variety of environments.

I divided my overall sound design plan for The Converged into categories: atmospheres and drones, interface beeps and noises, weapons, explosions, foley (mainly footsteps, doors and operating various tools), mechanical sounds, vocal processing and miscellaneous.

Following a timeline of the script, I mapped out the important points for each category. These included: where we needed to hear a change of the base environment (for an atmosphere or drone), or a character used equipment or a weapon, where the Foley happened and when the vocal processing would change depending on the character.  For example, when characters needed to sound like they were in space suits.

The major choices I made about vocal processing were the sounds of the astronaut suits and the AI character. A plugin called Cosmonaut came to my rescue on the first, and I auditioned various modulation plugins until I found one that gave the detached, slightly jarring chorused quality that I wanted for the second.

Once I had my sound map, I started making decisions about the sounds themselves. How futuristic did I want the spaceship (the location for the episode) to sound? Ultra high-tech or a bit more organic? In the end, I went for a combination of processed organic electronic sounds (bell-like chimes for interface noises), and recognisable mechanical Foley sounds e.g. the sound of metal doors opening and closing on military ships and rifle handling sounds.

After I had all my sounds in place, it was time for track-laying and mixing.  Panning is particularly vital in a creative sense for audio drama. Without a picture to follow, it’s up to the sound designer to locate the action for the listener for each scene and make sure it makes sense with the script and the story. When you don’t have a picture as a reference point, it’s easy to forget that a character is a collection of sounds – footsteps, equipment beeps, clothing movement, gun movement – and not just a voice.

The teaser for Episode 1 was released last week with the full episode due to be released within the next month.

I’ve learned a lot from my first foray into radio drama, and I already know there will be some changes to the sound of Episode 1 of The Converged, and probably to the sound of the following episodes as well.

It would be interesting to incorporate binaural sound, especially in sci-fi drama. I’d also like to experiment with the ideas explored in the film Gravity, of only hearing sound in space when conducted through touch. Possibly a step too far for a radio drama? After this introduction to its creative possibilities, I’m keen to continue my explorations.

 

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