Monday, December 21, 2009

The Voice Over Audition: History + Pursuing Excellence

Many of our younger thespians are unaware of what transpired prior to their entering the commercial voice over world. Others are in search of the most beneficial way of continuing their pursuits of excellence as a talent. When I’m asked what it was like a few years ago, almost all are surprised at my history lesson.

While these are two separate subjects, they never the less are of equal importance. The history lesson is presented as I lived and participated in as it was taking place. The help I will be offering is my own personal opinion.

Circa: 1974

Sponsors (the ones paying the bills) hired advertising agencies to publicize extol - the outright benefits of buying anything and everything. Print adds and radio were the two main vehicles for telling the sponsor's story. But television was moving quickly into the leading position. Both radio and television had the spoken word as a prime purveyor for what they had to say; albeit, much of the verbiage was considered to be “puff” verbiage, which was deemed to be less than accurate. A good example of puff was certainly the language used in all of the cigarette commercials. Can you imagine telling people about all the singers who smoke Lucky Strike cigarettes because they didn’t irritate singers' throats? They claimed the reason was the fact that “Luckies were toasted.” As they also pointed out, most doctors smoked Lucky Strike “two to one.” If you’re wondering what that really means, join the club.

Doing a network TV cigarette voice over commercial led the way to some enormous paydays for the actors.

In those days, the procedure for conducting an audition for a voice over commercial was quite simple.

1. The advertising agency contacted a commercial voice over agent by phone, or by posting a casting call breakdown through one of the published services.

2. They’d describe the type they were looking for and the agents would submit names to the advertising agency producer.

3. The producer would select by either voice recognition from a past experience with the actor, or by listening to the actors voice demo reel.

Early on, actors all had demo reels of their individual work. Most of these reels (or tapes) were about three minutes in duration.

4. The actors, who were selected by the advertising agency, were then given an appointment to come to the agency and be auditioned and directed by the producer of the spot.

5. The more well-known voice actors were oftentimes booked by the advertising agency without actually having to take an in-person audition.

In the beginning, the agents spent their days mostly on the telephone.

Agents worked at their desks. None of them conducted in-house auditions. It was a much simpler time. But all was about to change.

In my humble opinion, what transpired was a needless and detrimental acceptance of what many thought had to be. Our unions were void of cognitive perceptiveness. While many new venues were being developed, creating vast avenues for product, the union constituency were the last ones in the pecking order to garnish the full extent of the monetary rewards.

Circa: 1977

It was about thirty plus years ago, when one of our more famous agents (who will remain nameless) came up with the less-than-bright idea of bringing the actors he represented in-house to audition for voice over commercials. He pointed out to the advertising agencies how it would be free of charge. The audition would cost them nothing. What a concept. The advertising agency could actually send a script to this guy (agent) and, without charge, get back a (reel to reel 7.5") tape of the actors and actresses reading the exact script they would in turn use for their on-air commercial TV or radio advertisement. It also sounds simple, doesn’t it? The scripts were mailed to the agent, the agent brought in his talent, auditioned them, and sent a tape back to the advertising agency. Stay tuned.

Make no mistake, across the board, the experienced professional journeyman actors absolutely hated it. Voice actors were accustomed to reading for the man doing the hiring. Most of the agents' sound equipment, if you can call it that, was less than professional. The common statement heard around town from the actors' point of view was a total disdain for what their agents were up to. I heard many of the actors say how their agent had no idea about how to direct.

In the beginning, this in-house process was exclusively used in Los Angeles. The agent who was responsible for all this never reasoned out that he wasn’t going to be the only agent offering this economically illiterate format to the ad agencies. Think about it. If one of this agent's actors was chosen by the advertising agency to do their radio spot, the agent would earn, at 10% in those days, around twenty dollars. A trained monkey could do the math and discover auditioning folks for radio spots was a complete financial disaster. I mean… you can’t turn on a light bulb for twenty bucks, let alone pay a staff member to stand there and direct the talent.

And now here’s the real pretzel logic. The news of the in house auditions spread like wild fire. No one can surpass an actor’s ability to spread word of mouth information.

Overnight, every agent of near substance was in the game.

(As an aside, I was brought into Abrams Rubaloff & Associates, the then industry leader, to build perhaps the very first full service recording facility in Los Angeles. I experienced the actor’s comments first hand.)

The talent had zero reservations about what they felt about the new system. They pointed out to me: New York and Chicago weren't doing in-house auditions. In essence, we were removing the actors from a face-to-face audition with the man who could hire them. The whole idea was unsound. It was foreign territory for everyone involved.

What had begun as a single agent auditioning six, seven, and maybe ten actors for the commercial at hand quickly turned into total warfare between all of the Los Angeles agents submitting talent. Since the advertising agency no longer needed to spend their time setting up their own in-house auditions, they began indiscriminately sending their scripts out to every voice over agent in the city. The so-called initial brainstorm became a tornado of as many as one hundred and fifty or so actors reading for the same role.

The only thing that helped to keep the situation reasonably sane was the time frame. The commercial scripts we were receiving from the advertising people came to us through the mail. In most cases, we had around a week to get the finished audition back to them. It was a bad third-party process. Rarely did I have the opportunity to speak with the person who wrote the commercial we were auditioning.

I mentioned earlier how we recorded on a reel-to-reel setup, using what was known as tape. That’s correct, an actual box containing an audition tape was sent or hand delivered to the advertising agency or production company.

Enter our trained monkey to figure out:

A) The recording tape cost money

B) The box to package the audition in cost money

C) The delivery cost money

On one particular early morning, I was the designated tape box audition deliverer. The advertising agency was in a high-rise building on Wilshire Blvd., an area known as the miracle mile.

It was a common practice to get to an advertising agency office in the AM before they opened and leave our audition package in either their building mailroom or at their front door. In this instance, I chose the front door drop-off. At their door, I counted no less than fourteen jiffy bags, all containing the audition tapes of our competition.

That day served as a very enlightening experience for me.

Our Abrams Rubaloff audition consisted of eight actors. If each of the other fourteen offices had submitted the same number, it meant one hundred and twenty actors were vying for the same radio spot.

As a young and perhaps hopelessly naïve crusader, I attempted explaining the actors' position to AFTRA and also to the Screen Actors Guild; all to no avail. I actually felt I was working on behalf of the actors we represented. Frankly, I felt disheartened over the whole event. I wasn’t guessing. This was plain old-fashioned arithmetic. The handwriting was on the wall.

An actor knows what they’re getting into when they enlist in our subjective life form. But blatant disregard by the agents, who represent you, and the unions you belong to, is the same predicament we’re in with most of our politicians. Talking a good game and playing it are two entirely different things. My exact words to both guilds were the same: “It's not fair for an advertising agency to command subservience by the actor.”(I don’t think they understood what the word subservience means.) The fact is, one hundred and twenty actors got in their cars, and read for a commercial they had very little chance of winning. As I tried to explain to our guilds, “You’re looking at the tip of the iceberg.” Well … it is no longer the tip. Today’s iceberg is buoyed by just about every hamlet privy to electrical current.

The Wonders Of Science

The winds of change were upon us. It took about four years, when, without warning, little brainless electronic conveniences crept up on us. The romance was about to be removed from an entire industry.

The fax machine; we all celebrated.

(Wow, No more slow mail)

The cassette; Wow, we all celebrated. But wait a minute,

We still recorded on tape, but now we were required to transfer to cassette.

Da harv was a little annoyed.

They still sent us the scripts, but now they always seemed to get to us at the last minute.

Da harv was a little annoyed.

Every time I turned around, it seemed like we were all celebrating about one more magic gadget being added to our rapidly growing impersonal attitudes.

Da harv was a little annoyed.

More scripts coming to us faster and faster; we celebrated. So did every agent in the city.

E-MAIL; we all (really) celebrated.

The biggest strike in our history; we commiserated.

No one celebrated.

The home studio; many of the agents no longer do in house auditions. They send the scripts, which are sent to them by e-mail to the actor's home. The agent doesn’t have to go through the audition rain dance.

The winner may be heard celebrating, while nine hundred and ninety nine wonder what the celebration is all about.

But here’s some good news. The economy has forced many of the advertising agencies to reduce their staff size. The number of actors auditioning is beginning to show signs of shrinking. The smaller staff size won’t allow enough time to do all that listening.

I believe we’re experiencing a gentle return to the work of the quality actor. Of course, that’s usually why we’re hired as casting directors. Since the advertising agency is paying us by the hour to cast their voices, it’s a rarity for the numbers of actors we bring in to become of gargantuan proportions. It goes without saying, the smaller the casting call, the higher the degree of talent. We’re hired to find quality acting skills. That is always our intention.

(And) So the universal question, as always; How to become a quality voice over actor? Please stay tuned. I might be able to help.

Workshops & Coaches

In general, actors have the very best handle on the good, the bad, and even the most ugly of what’s out there professing to be the actor’s helper. The larger the city, the more good and bad helpers you will find. I call them the in and outers. These are the folks in our business who find themselves in a struggle to make a living. They turn to coaching.

What I suggest first is the most tried and true method for finding help in a big city like Los Angeles. “Word of mouth.” Actors talk to one another. While advertising can be a marvelous signpost, that’s all it is. Read the sign, and then ask an actor or two if they have had experience with the people whose name appears on the signpost.

The really good workshops have a tendency to stay around for long periods of time. The bad ones disappear quickly. Word of mouth works both ways.

When an actor calls a workshop inquiring about what they have to offer, and his calls are consistently being answered by a machine, and no one gets back to him that very same day - well, for me that isn’t the kind of a place I would like to trust my career to. It may be a workshop that you’re calling about, but it must be run like a business.

For me personally, I wouldn’t think of signing on with a workshop, unless it was recommended by an actor or two whom I respected. Agents are also good authorities on where to go for education. Even if an agent does not represent you, they will usually be amenable when it comes to making workshop suggestions.

Before calling a workshop have your questions prepared in advance. Ask for printed informational material about the workshop you're inquiring about. It’s important to know how long they’ve been in business, as well as their qualifications. How many different kinds of classes do they offer? It’s important for you to be studying with a like group of people. By like, I mean at similar experience levels. What I’m getting at is that you obviously wouldn’t want to be in a beginners voice over workshop group if you happen to be an actor with twenty years of experience in the theater.

Note: In the above paragraph I have bolded the words voice over, because in a variety of theatrical classes, having a novice or two in the group may be a distinct advantage.

The workshop representative should be amenable to giving you a reasonable amount of telephone time. That representative must be knowledgeable. Too often a person who is acting as nothing more than a telephone receptionist will handle your call. When your career is at stake, you should expect a great degree of caring to be displayed by the people running the workshop in question. Never settle for second best. Los Angeles is the home to the finest acting coaches in the world. Just ask another actor. They’ll know where to find them.

TIPS

* Once you sign on and enter a voice over workshop environment, do so with a total commitment.

* Honor your choice of this particular workshop as the very best in the world.

* Consider your ultimate achievement as a process. You are a work in progress (forever).

* Do not expect an overnight epiphany of success.

Every professional musician practices with his or her instrument each and every day. As a voice over artist, your instrument is your voice. Being the best reader in the world will not diminish your chances of success.

Read out loud each and every day. Newspapers and magazines are a must. I’m referring to the articles they contain as opposed to the advertisements. A voice over actor must be comfortable with a cross section of verbiage. Whether you’re interested in an article's subject matter or not, you may one day be called upon to read for a commercial containing the same or similar content as the one you dislike. Your job is to be comfortable with whatever is thrown at you during an audition. The more you practice, the easier it will become. An actor doesn’t have to be a doctor to read medical terminology. Don’t limit yourself.

Good luck!

Monday, December 14, 2009

So, What’s New?

“So, what’s new?” Are you inquiring as to the welfare of my family, or are you asking me, da harv, the casting director, the freelance director, the guy running a school, an office, a recording studio, or just plain Harvey Kalmenson, a man who finds himself, constantly running, like many of his colleagues, trying to keep pace?

Thank you for asking!

The fact is… it doesn’t matter whom the question is being posed to. In my case, everything is tied together. Take my family (please). If you do, be prepared (we be a large one).

The Kalmensons have eleven teachers, and eight engineer / student coordinators, working regularly in our education program. Counting Cathy and myself we have a mission control staff of eight stalwart soldiers, whose responsibilities include everything short of feeding the cat.

Our colleagues come in a variety of shapes, colors and packages; all avowing to our company credo, inspiring folks to seek out excellence, twenty-four hours each and every day. We have twenty-seven members in our hand-picked and personally trained family. It’s nice to be able to choose one's family members, don’t you think?

Seventeen years ago, when we began our long walk, we had the two of us: Cathy in the casting office and da harv going up and back to Burbank, functioning as director and talent coordinator. At the time… I believe we were teaching a total of two classes per week. Our education department consisted of the two of us. The “Kalmenson Method ®,” which had been cultivated many years earlier, began its rebirth, being firmly reestablished throughout our acting community.

Yes, we were confident in our skills as teachers, but we realized a simple fact: without actors, we didn’t have a business. From actor to actor, the word spread.

So, the question was, “What’s new?" The answer? Like many Angelinos, the Kalmensons continue to spar with the same day-to-day economic problems confronting most small business owners. It used to be, as an owner became more experienced, his or her job became easier. Today, I find, I need every drop of experience in order to stay in business. The day-to-day business problems of past years have turned into confrontations for business survival.

But with it all, our ship's sails remain filled by the winds of the enormous creativity our acting community fosters. We have picked our neighborhood, as we have picked our trade, and our staff of players. The romance we enjoy; the creative implementation of vastness unequaled; enjoying verbiage, encountering the nature of what our life’s work presents, is reason enough to celebrate a style more than dreams are made of.

“Style and substance; substance and style.” I could easily explain to a child, we read out loud for a living. Depending on the age of the child would be the determining factor, as to whether or not my explanation would suffice. I might say to an adult, “We’re in the business of helping people.” In this case, the age of the adult I was explaining my vocation to would be of little consequence. “Frankly Scarlett, I don’t give a damn.”

For us, Cathy and da harv, what style and substance involve at our stage of the game may be summed up within the meaning of one single word: “integrity.” We are enablers. We develop excellence in others, and we get paid well to do it. We are teachers because people learn from us. If the people didn’t learn, we could not in good conscience be called teachers. And that is the credo shared by each and every one of our colleagues who will be joining us for our Christmas and Hanukkah dinner party.

“So, what’s new,” you ask?
I say, none of the most important things.
At this time of the year, our entire Kalmenson & Kalmenson team takes the opportunity to reunite, convening over a sumptuous repast,
And to toast to all who have added to our blessed welfare during the course of this year past.”

And of course… thank you for asking!
hk

Monday, December 7, 2009

What influenced me to get into this business?

If you hang out long enough, and enjoy even a modicum of success, someone is bound to ask you how you got into this business. “How’d you get your start?” is the usual way the question is posed. Others are perhaps more specific; they’ll ask, “How did you get into voice over?” If it happens to be an actor posing the question, almost without exception they’re asking about your origins, because they’re in search of some secret thing you might offer; a minor morsel of fact, which might serve them as an enabler on their individual road in search of success.

And what constitutes success is a whole other story.

But for now, as is my usual method… I’ll precede to the past in order to generate a reasonable truth about my own beginnings; you know, like reflect.

(If you’ve got a minute or two.)

In the beginning, God didn’t refer to it as “Voice Over.” Often, a community leader (organizer) handled communications; the people didn’t elect him; they were under the impression he had been anointed by God. No voting was allowed. The job required the communicator to do a great deal of shouting, and so it became the natural realm for the man with the most powerful voice. His messages to the villagers were written on huge granite slabs, which were held up by the communicator’s worshipers on each side of the hill he was standing on. In that way, the communicator was able to look like he really knew a great deal about his subject matter. These early prompters were known as “cue slabs.” On occasion, a slave was known to tire and drop one of the slabs. It required the communicator to improvise his speech until a new slave could be brought in as a replacement. This really raised hell for the communicator, as the Stanislavski Method was years away from being invented. In any event, this particular method for selecting a communicator lasted only until the days of radio came along. In actuality, it was only for about four years. Many of the “Village People” stopped paying attention to the communicator and began forming singing groups.

Since recording equipment had not yet been invented, communicators were able to say whatever they pleased. In other words… in the very early days, people accepted what the town communicator (organizer) had to say as the gospel, only to discover following the invention of new and better equipment, that the village communicator was indeed nothing more than a carbon copy of themselves.

Following the invention of the radio, and vast improvements in megaphones (now referred to as microphones), communicator’s voices began to change. In some societies even women became communicators. As a matter of fact, in 1920 women were even given an opportunity to vote. It was initially considered to be a “Noble Experiment.” There was, however, a big difference between the men and the women who ultimately got the jobs. Early newspaper reports one women claiming another women got her job as the village communicator because she became intimate with the mayor. This story was never proved, but the rumor still lingers. It was the era when the now famous colloquialism, “It’s all about who you know,” was established. Many believed women were given the right to vote as the effect of men no longer being permitted to legally drink alcohol for a full year prior to the female voting emancipation.

Did you know?
In the history of the United States, Prohibition, also known as "The Noble Experiment," is the period from 1919 to 1933, during which the sale, manufacture, and transportation of alcohol for consumption were banned nationally as mandated in the Eighteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution.

When I was a kid, there was no such animal as a voice over. We had a thing we all called “acting.”

But even before I uttered the words "act," or "to act," or "be in an act," or "I’m an actor," my environment pushed me in a direction.

Excuse me, but I’m about to be guilty of personal nostalgia sharing. You might agree, personal nostalgia sharing sounds so much more genteel, than me saying how I intend talking about myself.

My aunts and uncles were constantly accusing my mother and father of being overly boastful about what a great child I was. One of my uncles told my father, right in front of me, I might add, “You think your kid is so smart, polite and perfect; he never causes any trouble. He’s a regular angel”. My Dad looked my uncle straight in the eye, and said, right in front of me, I might add, “You finally got something right,” as he began laughing at the poor guy. The descriptive "precocious" was not yet in vogue.

There I was, in the second grade; not yet known as da harv, but never the less, firmly established as our neighborhood communicator. Nobody voted for me, it just happened. Telling people what to do came with my territory. The descriptive, director was not yet in vogue.

One day, my second grade teacher was about to go into shock when she discovered I had disappeared from class. She became aware of my absence because the schoolroom was far quieter than usual.

I wasn’t kidnapped, and I wasn’t playing hooky. I was merely engaged in my earliest presentment. They found me on the ground level of P.S. 233 in a kindergarten class, doing an audiovisual about school safety.

Being in front of those kids, and commanding their attention was an overpowering event for an eight year old. The strange part about the incident, was the fact, I wasn’t going for it. Although it was early in my life, intellectually I was having a blast. Honestly, my memory really won’t serve any further narrative. I know for sure I wasn’t punished. And although I can’t be certain, there’s a good chance, that incident may have stimulated my beginnings.

Acting, teaching and helping people develop within the confines of the subjective art form of their choice, began for me as an eight year old; maybe earlier than that.

Adding to what influenced me, or pushed me towards the voice over world will require some historical notes about my grandma, (my father's mother). While it wasn’t her intent, she contributed to my development without knowing it.

Some kids remember the smells of the wonderful delights being cooked and baked by their grandmas. It was different for me. I vividly remember the sounds. Each of my dad's brothers and sisters (all nine of them) played musical instruments. Oddly enough, there wasn’t any sheet music to sing or play along with. Much of the music was derived from ancient Hebrew chants. The musical notes were passed on from one shtetl (village) to another. The modern music of the day was learned by ear while listening to the radio. A family member would learn a new tune and then pass it on to a brother or sister by playing it for them.

Shtetl rhymes with “kettle.” The German translation: a little town.

My Grandma Ethel was treated as a true matriarch. She was in total control of the family until the day she died. She rarely did any cooking or house cleaning. Her job was to provide the sustenance for her families survival.

Anyone who may have seen “Fiddler on the Roof”, will have an idea of my grandmother's roots. Her father was a village leader. He owned a factory which manufactured saddles for members of the czar’s Cossack cavalry. All went well during her young life until just before the Russian Revolution began, and the ouster of the czar, and an end to her father's saddle business.

Grandma Ethel saw the handwriting on the wall. So in 1903 she packed her belongings and somehow managed for her husband and two children to make it to (as she would say, with her hand over her heart) “The United States of America.” Within the first few years after their arrival to Brooklyn, New York, Grandma found herself in the unlikely position, due to her young husband's death, of being a single parent and responsible for her family's sole support.

(Here’s where the fanfare would be inserted.)

Enter the eight-year-old Harvey Kalmenson. Please don’t get the idea I enjoyed visiting Grandma Ethel. That wasn’t the case at all. In actuality, I was probably afraid of her. That’s not to say I wasn’t learning, by soaking up the environment surrounding this lady of unbelievable strength. Once each week my Dad would say we were going over to visit his mother. It never entered my mind to say no to my father. If I did say no, I probably wouldn’t be here telling you about what influenced me creatively.

There was always someone playing the piano or violin when we arrived. With a mandate set down, each of my nine aunts and uncles were bound to show up. While all this transpired, grandma was usually conducting her business as a translator. She was busily continuing her business of reading and writing letters for many of the neighbors to their relatives in the old country. It was the sounds of all those different languages that got me going. Yes… I really didn’t care about going to see Grandma Ethel, but to this day, she remains one of the most adept linguists I’ve ever come in contact with. I can’t imagine how valuable she would be working at the United Nations. But the most amazing part of relating this story is it’s unlikely reoccurrence.

Each time I’m asked the question about what influenced me, in my mind's eye a picture of the house in Brooklyn, the music playing, the rhythmic chanting, and all those people of foreign extraction coming in and out of the very small apartment grandma lived in during her entire life in the United States. Long after each and every one of her children became prosperous, and she no longer needed to work, she never moved and never stopped doing for others. She had long since stopped charging for her services.

I do believe she had something to do with my life’s direction. I can still hear the sounds. I can still hear her saying to anyone and everyone, “Speak English. We’re in America.” And, oh yes… she had her hand over her heart when she said it.

Monday, November 30, 2009

Agents

Agents.

(Necessary, but not necessarily evil.)

* The “commercial talent agent;” you will by necessity have to be in a working relationship with them.
* Without an agent, the voice over artist has little chance of success (in Los Angeles).

It may be of interest if we begin by understanding what an agent actually is, and then examine the relationship between the actor and his or her agent.

Here’s what “Merriam-Webster” has to say:

* One that acts or exerts power

* A means or instrument by which a guiding intelligence achieves a result

* One who is authorized to act for or in the place of another:
a. Representative, emissary, or an official of a government
b. One engaged in undercover activities: spy
c. A business representative

As an aside: I know a few agents that fit the description for all of the above!

Each city has a slightly different approach to how business is conducted. Los Angeles, for a wide variety of reasons, remains uniquely singular. I guess what they say about us is true; we are different at this end of the country. Our town is geographically spread out. It isn’t like New York or Chicago, where a person can walk down the street of a certain location and be privy to just about every major player in the advertising game. Los Angeles stretches out over an area of more than one hundred miles. Then there are the outlying communities that support a myriad of advertising agencies.

New York and Chicago have always been the advertising capitals of this country, and the world for that matter.

A Little History:

The very first signs of significant change came back in the late thirties and early forties when radio began to take hold. Before that, it was the print media that handled the advertisers desire to get their respective products better-known.

All concerned, excluding the advertising agency producers, underestimated the enormity of an industry that was about to change the face of both the advertising business and the future of just about every kid who had the slightest inkling of becoming an actor.

But before we
modern folks came along, there were:

Wine, Beer, and Cigarettes (a dream come true).

Every brand had a song, and every school kid could sing, and tell you the benefits of how mild a cigarette could be.

My favorite little cancer stick was “Lucky Strike.” After all, they didn’t “Have A Cough In A Carload.” The label on the pack attested to the fact they were toasted. Many of the old timers would actually discuss the attributes of the different brands of cigarettes. I do believe more doctors smoked “Luckies” than any other brand; at least that’s what they said on the radio.

The first era lasted for about fifteen years. Each radio show had an announcer who did the commercials, many of which were of two minutes duration. Then of course, the jingles; all sung with the benefit of a full big band behind them.

The Pace Picks Up:

With the fifties, and the advent of television, came the need for more and more actors. Up until that time period, such a thing as a commercial talent agent was non-existent. Actors had theatrical agents representing them. These same theatrical agents displayed little or no interest in the commercial field of representation.

As a matter of fact, in the early days (prestige wise) many legitimate actors shared the universal feelings that doing a television commercial was beneath them.

The early sixties brought with it the blossoming of the commercial talent agent. All it took was the magic word "residuals."

(And in the event you are unaware of what the word residual means, you probably should not bother yourself with going any further in your pursuit of a career as a commercial actor.)

Seemingly from out of nowhere, agents began popping up all over the place. Many of them came into it because they were ex-actors who had failed.

(In the early sixties, you could have staged a pretty good musical comedy, with a cast made up of folks who had recently become agents.)

It was during these very early days that the field of voice over was actually established.

In the beginning, the main reason for the voice over was economics. It was easier to add an explanation tag or voice to the substance of the commercial body than to have the on-camera actors act out the motive or sell. In very short order, the production company along with the ad agency creative types latched on to the many plusses that were being enabled by use of the human voice. Since the voice over was part and parcel of the postproduction makeup, it enabled the production company to operate at the location of their choice in order to do the filming, while the necessary additional dialogue could be done at a later time.

Along with the advent of color, larger screens, and better sound, we were on our way.

Since the vast majority of location shots were staged outdoors, the California climate, especially Los Angeles, rapidly secured us as the geographical capital of the commercial production industry.

We had the climate that allowed for more days of outside location work, and coupled with the strength of our Hollywood community of viable talent, ensuring an over abundance of actors for the newly formed talent agencies to draw from. The advertising industry had no choice: If they wanted to film commercials without worrying about inclement weather, Los Angeles was the right place for them to be.

And while all this commercial filming was going on, low and behold our population was increasing simultaneously. Doubling and then tripling the number of people in our country, concurrently had the effect of pouring gasoline on a fire. The more it grew, the more growth potential was uncovered. As new industries were born, so too was the need to advertise them.

At the same time that television displayed its unbelievable prosperity, so too did the forgotten giant radio. Drive time radio became an advertiser's dreamland. With two working parents as opposed to one single breadwinner, the number of automobiles at drive time hours skyrocketed. The agents all, across the board took on representing more actors to cover the demand. Many actors were now making a very handsome income by doing radio commercials.

While radio rarely afforded the residual plus of television, it consumed product at a never before experienced volume.

At the onset, agents began by representing a mere handful of actors. There were just a few actual commercial talent agents in existence, compared to today’s hard to believe enormity. In today’s marketplace
(just Los Angeles proper), there are some thirty commercial talent agents (offices). That means agents running offices. The number of sub agents that they employ would probably be in the neighborhood of one hundred and fifty. The union allows for each agency to have a company name, and to hire sub agents to work for them. They are all signatories of the Screen Actors Guild and the American Federation of Radio and Television artists. And accordingly are restricted from any work done for any production company and or advertising agency who is not a signatory of said guilds. In other words: The agents should not be doing non-union jobs.

The agents contract with either of the guilds allows for a maximum of ten percent, as the factor to be used as the maximum percentage when calculating the agent’s remuneration.

Work that is derived under the auspices of SAG is subject to the ten percent being calculated on the actor’s gross earnings. Work derived by the actor under the auspices of AFTRA is subject to the ten percent being calculated as an add-on figure. Add-on meaning that whatever the actor’s fee would be for the commercial, an additional ten percent would be added on top.

Note: The ten percent figure that is understood and commonly used by most of the industry is also misconstrued as being a state regulation. Each state has its own rules and regulations as to the remuneration an agent or manager may charge as a percentage of the actors gross. The 10% figure is what is currently the agreement between the guilds and its signatory members (agents).

Editorially speaking… I feel in general the agents earn every cent they make. The business has changed and continues to change as you read this missive.

Actors and agents aren’t immune to the trials and tribulations of what our nation experiences both cyclically, and without warning.

But make no mistake; there have been a variety of mistakes, which were made by agents, actors and the guilds that, by the nature of things, cannot ever be corrected.

“Oftentimes, when a tide rises to a new and higher level, those who are in the water may not notice, especially if all they attempt to do is stay afloat.”

Work stoppages for any reason, including act of God, will, by their nature, become the cause and effect for unredeemable monetary and emotional loss.

As a guild member, an actor, agent, casting director and emotionally involved bystander who has experienced no less than three prolonged work stoppages, I declare myself worthy of my own personal journalistic comment:

Not working sucks!!!

The agents were of little or no help in any of the strike negotiations. They could, and should have been. Some had reasonable and viable possible solutions to each of the three sanctioned strikes.

During one of the strikes in particular I found myself wondering why SAG or AFTRA wasn’t bringing in or attempting to enlist the help of some of the industry heavy hitters to assist in the negotiations. (I also wondered where the big named celebrities were hiding out.)

“The Actor”
So strange is it, often actors went forth without friends.
“What manner of man,” People asked,
“Would dare to venture out.”
Seeking to be loved
Desperately traveling to foreign lands
Exposing and re-exposing themselves to the taunts of
Their patrons
Ever wanting only love and approval
Always hoping for people to understand.

“The Agent”
And one day
As our actor who no longer had the will to try
Disapproval had engulfed him
He found no energy left to cry.
On the horizon a buffer appeared
A new form of being
Lodged with personality
Charged with enthusiasm
Loving our actor
Never thinking of himself
Straining for our actors welfare
And asking only 10% for their share

By: hk

Admittedly, I never considered myself to be a good agent. At face value, and succinctly stated… here’s my background in a nutshell: Business and Theatre. I’ve been working with, and for actors most of my adult life. The predominance of my experience, and strength (if you will) tends to be on the creative side of my personal ledger. As a writer, I found it difficult to support my wife, my two children, or myself. As a casting director, animated feature film director, and educator, I have managed to gain more than a modicum of renown and respect.

The above assertions, are made by me, and are as subjective as you may will them to be.

Trying To Figure Out The Agent's Position:

It has been twenty-five years since I was an agent. A lot has changed, and a lot has remained the same. The agents receive the same ten percent for securing the actor’s work (toil) and nothing else for whatever (trouble). Agents in general still work long and arduous hours. Agents still do a lot of handholding; some actors are needy; some actors are greedy; some actors are seedy; some actors are needy, seedy, and greedy all wrapped up in one presumptive package. These are the actors who bear the full responsibility for the increase in single malt scotch sales in the Los Angeles area.

Okay, the point is, and I’m sure you get it, I feel agents earn their money, and then some. I have zero complaint about how hard the commercial talent agents work. My question is: Why do they unnecessarily work so hard -- especially the older, bigger, and more successful agents?

My problem has to do with numbers; specifically the number of actors who compete for each radio job.

The current problem is not one which just popped up. It began twenty-five years ago when the agents first decided how great it would be to offer the advertising agencies free auditions. The scripts were mailed to the agent; he or she would record their actors and send a tape of said audition back to the ad agency. In that era, a radio paid a total $200 + 10%,($20). I can remember distinctly asking the agent who was my boss what his thinking was. I mean, we were averaging ten to fifteen actors per commercial audition. It took about two and one half hours to conduct the audition. If one of our actors were selected as the winner, our cut would be $20. My exact comment to my boss was, “You can’t turn the electricity on for twenty bucks.”

At an agents' association meeting, one of the most prominent agents took the floor when it was his turn, and stated without equivocation, “In-house auditions being conducted by us for radio commercials could be our ultimate downfall. We should stop doing in house auditions for radio commercials immediately. If the ad agencies want auditions, they should bring the actors into the advertising agencies and conduct them, themselves.” (Or hire a casting company.) He was voted down. His colleagues didn’t want to risk stimulating the ire of the ad agency producers. To this day, I doubt if any of the advertising people give much thought regarding the well-being of the working commercial voice over agents.

Not much has changed procedurally. Agents still conduct auditions for radio spots. But now we have two more culprits to deal with: online casting services or "banks," and the actor with his or her own in-home recording studio facility.

As casting directors, we are privy to the inside workings of all the latest phenomena. We draw from an acting pool from all over the country. Today, national television spots, more often than not, means we are casting from acting pools originating in all of our major cities.

The numbers of actors auditioning for a radio commercial are often staggering and beyond belief.

What that notable agent professed, twenty-five years hence, has gathered such alarming momentum, that even his brash predictions seem mild today. He was correct then, when he called for his colleagues to stop doing in-house auditions for radio commercials. His assessment of the industry's future was right on. It isn’t too late for change. Some things can still be benefited by reverting to the good old days.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Now What Do I Do?

Taking a page from “Mission Impossible,” your goal, if you choose to accept it, is to make your heart sing. Sing with the joy of knowing you are attempting to succeed, with no thoughts of odds, or predictions.
-- hk

It's your bed, my friend. Stop calling it a business. It isn’t a business. It’s a condition of the heart, your heart. Your assignment is to keep it beating, loud and strong. So, you’ve taken a class or two, and now you find yourself with the actor's time-honored quandary: Now what do I do?

“You weren’t pushed. You either waded or jumped in. You’re in the water now, so swim you bastard, swim.”

Don’t you dare cry. We don’t cry in voice over. What we do is read scripts out loud. We whisper, shout, blare, cajole, advance, retreat, run, jump, and laugh; and that all might take place within a sixty second time frame. It’s going to be your life’s work. We industry insiders refer to it as an audition. If this happening takes place on a regular basis, consider yourself lucky. Most actors complain about not being called in to read (audition) often enough.
If you’re a newbie, just starting out, you won’t have a problem with anyone ever calling you in to audition.

So what do you do now?

Let’s talk football. Here’s our scenario; your team (you) are in possession of the ball. It’s fourth down, and there are yards and yards to go for a first down. The clock is dangerously close to its last tick. If you go for it and you aren’t successful, the game is over. You won’t ever have the same opportunity to get back in the game. If you punt -- kick the ball away -- you’ve lost your final chance to score. With either decision, you’ve lost your chance to win. It's go for it or punt. Go for it or punt. Go for it or punt. Hmmm, what to do? It’s too late, as in “Too Late For Dreams.” Yours!

While you were deliberating over what to do, another, perhaps more erstwhile individual made the decision for you. They kept in the game, kept possession of the ball (for sure longer than you did) and got an unforeseen brake. They tripped, fell, and landed at the feet of a fellow human that was just looking for a “klutz” like them.

“KLUTZ”
a clumsy, awkward, or foolish person.
DERIVATIVES
ORIGIN 1960s: from Yiddish klots, ‘wooden block.’

Or, in the event you are one of those men or women who have no idea of how the game of football is played, perhaps a page from the books of Sholem Aleichem would be easier for you to understand.

In the very early nineteen hundreds, Sholem Aleichem advised the thousands of peddlers on New York’s east side about keeping the door open. It was like our fourth down scenario; if you kick the ball away, it’s the same as closing your shop door. In either scenario, you’ve lost all chance to score. No matter how bad things get (even if it’s snowing and the drifts have blocked the entrance… begin shoveling) someone might be out there trying to get in. Ergo, keep your store open.

I thought you might like to know:

Sholem Aleichem was the pen name of Sholem Naumovich Rabinovich, the popular humorist and Jewish author of Yiddish literature, including novels, short stories, and plays. He did much to promote Yiddish writers and was the first to pen children's literature in Yiddish.

His work has been widely translated. The 1964 musical "Fiddler on the Roof," loosely based on Sholem Aleichem's stories about his character Tevye the Milkman, was the first commercially successful English-language play about Eastern European Jewish life.

I rather doubt if anyone in our business has been privy to more wonderful success stories than I have. I’m actually smiling as I recall many incidents when out of the most seemingly absurd situations, the smoke cleared and a brand new star was born.

Please be advised... many of the newborn stars were very long in the tooth at birth.

(They waited forever for the first break. Imagine if they hadn’t waited; they had closed the store, or punted away the opportunity to hold on to the ball. It would have been one less klutz discovered.)

I must take a moment to admit some lack of graciousness on the part of da harv. I’m guilty. I regularly admonish some of my newbie actor friends regarding their lack of professionalism when taking an audition (with me). It’s not only in my pet peeve category, but also an insulting disregard for those of us who attempt to follow some form of track towards possible or continued success. I want everyone to make it. I root for every actor to make it, even though experience has shown me how few end up being able to support themselves, let alone a family. And that in itself is cause for my most strident of admonishments.

The audition is what you do for a living. Don’t take it for granted. It might change your life.

Professionals arrive at the theater with enough time to put on makeup and prepare for the curtain. If your audition is set for a prescribed time, then it’s your responsibility to be there early enough to study your script and be well-prepared to go in when summoned.

But if I had to spell out my own personal recipe for success, if I was truly put on the spot, if I were only allowed to offer you what I considered the most salient point of all, I could do so without hesitation or equivocation.

The following is what Harvey Kalmenson religiously observes, as his way of life, and adherence to the single most important ingredient for personal and team success in any and all walks of professional life.

As gathered from the writings of Albert Einstein:

“Whatever your choice to do in life, make sure to be the very best at it. No ingredient should ever be inconsequential or overlooked as too small a substance not to be included in your observance of the highest possible work ethic. If you happen to be a match maker, be sure to manufacture the best matches to be found anywhere.”

You may not be the biggest box office draw, but you can be the best actor in the world. That is, if you commit to practicing you’re given craft. I have bolded the foregoing sentence because it denotes the strikingly similar mutuality that every successful athlete and actor has in common: Work ethic.

A friend of mine described an occurrence which took place while he functioned as executive producer on a commercial shoot involving, the one and only, Michael Jordan. I was told Jordan was a gem to work with but did have one special request; a full size regulation basketball hoop and standard be put in place so Mr. Jordan could practice a variety of shots. Wow! Can you imagine, the best player in the history of the game, at the very top of his physical skills, still striving for increased excellence? It kind of sounds like Tiger Woods. I guess they both fell into the trap of seeking a higher degree of excellence by practicing their chosen field. I wonder if either of them read what Albert Einstein had to say? Or maybe it's because they both had dads who shared the same beliefs?

Then there was a particularly small, forty-seat little theater on Santa Monica Blvd. in West Los Angeles, where a very young da harv was diligently practicing something or other. I guess it was a Thursday evening (but please don’t hold me to it) and I was concerned about who was going to fill in during a short sequence of our play, where a piano player was required.

It was almost curtain time and still no piano player. Then, with about fifteen minutes to spare, here comes this smiling, effervescent human being, coming through the drawn curtain and introducing himself to all of us. “Hello everybody,” he said, while shaking hands with anyone who had a hand available. “I’m Jack Lemmon, and I got a call you needed a guy to play the piano.”

I never realized our regular piano player had friends in as high-up a position on life’s ladder. In retrospect, the really cute part about this incident was the fact Jack Lemmon was always looking for a way he could be practicing his craft. Little theater was never little when the quality of a Jack Lemmon was there seeking excellence.

Why not imagine the likes of a Jack Lemmon being part of your team’s production? Whether it’s a play or a commercial audition, it will always be big-time theater if you make it so by seeking the highest personal excellence you can attain. Call it practicing your craft, or adhering to your very own high degree of personal integrity.

All of that being said, if I had to choose one other single thing each and every aspiring voice over actor could do in order to attain their own personal success as a talent, and as an above-average human being, it would be summed up succinctly: Networking. Get out there with the people who some would refer to as the competition. You are your own driving force for success. Each and every person you meet will aid in your achieving your goals and aspirations. Go to meetings. Shake hands and hug. Networking has worked since the beginning of time.

I am reminded of the book by Ernest Hemingway entitled “For Whom The Bell Tolls.” Hemingway took the title from John Donne.

Do with it what you will.

Meditation XVII: No man is an island...

"All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated... As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all: but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness... No man is an island, entire of itself... any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."

Like hitting a home run, and as you trot around the bases, all is quiet. You stop, look around, and discover… there’s no one in the stands. No teammates to share your glee.

"One, who knows you, introduces you to one who doesn’t.
You tell the man whom you just met, how you aspire to the artistry of voice over.
The next day that man calls to say he liked your voice so much he told a friend about you.
That would make three, who have discovered your island.
And all you are duty bound to convey is a simple thank you, and have a nice day."
Networking, by hk

Your daily reiteration must be networking.

Please notice the words "must" and "networking" in the previous sentence are bold. Straight from the shoulder and as pointedly as I can make it; without networking, actors chances are diminished, almost to the point of no return. Few make it without friends or just-met acquaintances.

“Doesn’t luck play a big part?”

Yes, luck does come into play. Yes, you heard da harv say it. I love having a run of luck. But remember… if my door is closed, I can’t get lucky. Good days or bad, my rent must be paid, even if it comes before I eat.

An actor says to me, “Boy did I get lucky.” “Where were you, and what were you doing when you got lucky?” I always ask. Almost always, our lucky actor happened to be out and about when the lucky incident took place. Most of the time it had to do with networking. It never has to do with sitting home waiting for your phone to ring. (Now-a-days it’s easy to take a cell phone with you. Don’t be a klutz; make sure its charged.)

And, when you finally get a gig, it doesn’t mean it's time for you to relax. Quality-wise, you just moved up a notch. The folks you meet who are part and parcel of the voice over work you just got may also be in a position to hire you again. Make them a part of your networking. I’m referring to everyone.

Be like Jack Lemmon; shake hands and ingratiate yourself. Consider every recording studio as a fertile venue; they’re for the sole purpose of meeting and greeting people to add to your personal networking farmland. From the parking lot attendant (if there is one) at the recording studio, to the young receptionist who checks you in, to the engineer and or anyone who is there and breathing. Shake a hand, shake a hand. Smile and look a new networking possibility right straight in the eye, genuinely smile, and shake a hand firmly (then wash your own). Get the names of the folks you meet and make sure to write them down. That parking lot attendant might be another actor, just like you, who one day will remember your cordiality. And the young receptionist may one day be in a position to hire you. Everyone you meet is of substance. Don’t ever ignore a person deemed to be in a lesser position of authority than the producer or director.

Here’s a da harv revelation: My entire career (by the nature of how it began, took hold, and continues to bear fruit) has at its nucleus, the most powerful force known to man. Networking.

Actors sharing with other actors. People telling people in an effort to help people. It sounds so corny. Amazing how so many success stories sound corny at inception. The bottom line has been and will remain, simply as I can reiterate. Networking.

Monday, November 16, 2009

World War II

Expect, feel an emotional twinge, reserved for those with hearts large enough, to relive a moment in time, which changed the breath and shape of our country, and the world.

It was an era of endless tests, developed at the end of our country's worst crisis since the Civil War, and a depression of such penetrating scope, many thought we as a people would never recover, let alone survive. As Americans, we found ourselves unprotected from elements far beyond anything even Mother Nature may have deemed to be possible. Man's inhumanity to man was about to reach an apex far beyond reason. Japan, Germany, and Italy; No troika of evildoers known to man would carry forth the devastating carnage, promulgating a world suffering of such immeasurable magnitude.

Though it all began many years before, our official date was: December 7th, 1941. Not a single human being, friend or foe, would be exempt from some form of life-changing correspondence.

Yes, it was World War II. But it was an epic of never before reached Godless sanctity. It was:

Beyond All Boundaries

***

Under the auspices of Phil Hettema of The Hettema Group, Susan Beth Smith of Matilda Production Services, LLC contacted Kalmenson & Kalmenson, seeking our voice casting services on their project: “Beyond All Boundaries,” a documentary produced by executive producer Tom Hanks.

They were moving right along towards the completion of this World War II documentary, being created for the World War II Museum in New Orleans, LA.

It was the beginning of what Cathy and I would describe as a whirlwind of joy and excitement.

Occasionally, thank God, a project comes along, managing to cancel out any negative feelings one might have cultivated, questioning his or her reasoning for existing in the world of a subjective art form. This one came in a package containing all the merits you pray your life pursuits might someday uncover. Bringing with it a chance for our work to be recognized, understood, and perhaps even praised.

Mr. Tom Hanks is far more than merely a celebrity name. Unfortunately, we never got to meet the man. That’s not to say we didn’t feel his tremendously positive influence during our voice casting. Tom Hanks, as well as the entire production team, believed in what they were working on; the story of World War II, and a generation of Americans who sacrificed in order for future generations to prosper and to live in a country striving to practice what their Constitution preached.

Chris Ellis painstakingly scribed the real life utterances of men who faced up to inconceivable fear. Each of our actors dug deeply from within themselves to truthfully and simply state what few before them ever experienced. Nary a syllable or a word missed the darkness of each minute being desperately lived by boys, not yet men, but soon to be our fathers and grandfathers.

Quite often during the voice casting process, the depth and scope of the project is not recognized. This one was different from the very first moment we began. Our conference call with the production team, headed by Doug Yellin, kicked off a prideful spirit, which endured as we steadily moved towards completion.

On Friday morning, November 6th, Cathy and I boarded a plane to New Orleans to be part of the production team celebration of Tom Hank's “Beyond All Boundaries.” We didn’t figure it was going to be a life-changing experience.

New Orleans is a piece of work; all of us Angelinos fit like a hand in a glove. Once you get past the environment, which is probably as dominant as any place in the world, you’re ready for the happiest food experience ever. Any stay in New Orleans for more than a couple of hours will guarantee weight gain.

We stayed at a hotel a mere two blocks from the New Orleans World War II Museum. It helped to ease the burden of an 8:00 AM call time for a private showing of “Beyond All Boundaries.” That would make it 6:00 AM in Los Angeles. Our hotel wake up call came through right on time at 4:00 AM Los Angeles time. Oddly enough, neither of us was anything but all stoked up for the event. All this having been said, neither Cathy or I ever expected what we were about to experience.

The museum is a magnificent adaptation of a World War II setting. The photos on the walls of the most prominent Hollywood stars of the era, is in itself a stand-alone event. The duplication of the Stage Door Canteen and stage is authentic. And certainly the fighter planes hanging from the ceiling is what every kid would love to see. But, you know what? I’ve seen all of that stuff before. As a veteran, I’ve actually experienced many of the weapons first hand (no, not during the second World War).

What we got was almost overpowering. There, assembled in the same staging area, at 8:00 AM New Orleans time, was a family being introduced to each other for the first time. We were not a dysfunctional family. We were a creative group of people, at the top of our game, hand-picked because of our professional record of impeccability. Everyone belonged, each freely displaying an egoless degree of entitlement. Everybody was talking warmly with everybody else. We exchanged congratulations, one to another, all of us gaining in natural vitality, moment by moment. Royalty was everywhere, yet aristocracy was nonexistent. I’m sure I have never been photographed as many times in as short a period of time.

I believe it was Phil Hettema who called us to order, signaling show time. We entered the brand spanking new theater together as a group of colleagues and friends reaping our personal continuum of excitement. I swear to you, my feet never touched the ground.

Deep red upholstery covered the two hundred and fifty perfectly positioned seats, arranged in a concave grandstand configuration, allowing for an ideal site line from anywhere in the house. The technical amenities of the theater are far too numerous to offer in this narrative. Let me just say, it was sheer genius. The site, the sound, and the fourth dimension supported the marvelously scripted documentation chronicling what was hoped to be the war to end all wars.

The theater darkened as we sat back in anticipation. What caused the death of sixty-five million human beings was about to be more vividly exposed than most could have ever imagined.

No better voice could have narrated the story, “Beyond All Boundaries,” than Mr. Tom Hanks.

I sat there alone within myself. By that I mean, without pause I found myself deeply involved; in fact more deeply involved than I had bargained for.

Each of the familiar voices we had cast were now much more than the actors in a movie. I was listening to an ensemble of truth. I was being taken on a trip to a time period in our country when every family had been touched by the world wide human suffering, and merciless degradation touching and penetrating the thickest of skins. The dimension of sound became increasingly more real, emanating from every corner of the theater. Men marched across the stage; the audience murmured with the unanimous belief that the figures were part of a live action segment, when in actuality it was one of many ingenious effects. Scene after scene, we were engaged in World War II. I felt the chill of winter as the Battle of the Bulge was reenacted. Tanks rolled at us, the sounds of men screaming for help, the snow falling on us in the theater, commands being shouted. And then total silence followed by an instant move from Europe to Guadalcanal in the Pacific. Flame throwers and burning bodies, then suicide planes diving into our ships. And back again to a German prison camp and our men freeing the remaining tortured souls. Swiftly to our people back on the home front, working day and night, all helping to support our men on the front lines. And then blaring at us was the end of the war; the end and a beginning. Never before had the world experienced the likes of such a monumental demeaning of the human spirit, and simultaneously the universal exaltation of the human spirit rising up to a very new God-given stratosphere. And then it was quiet for a moment. The World War II soldiers and sailors marched across our screen, followed by an equal number of men and women who took their places in front of the older generation. The older generation saluted the new who returned the salutation. It was the greatest generation passing on the guard assignment to the next. Without warning it was over. The theater was dark for a moment or two. We gathered our emotions and wiped away the tears as we all applauded the work we had shared in creating!

Man, were we charged up! Outside the theater it was congratulations time once again. But this time it was just a little different. I found myself thanking people for their work on the film. People would come up and interrupt a conversation to say, "Thank you Cathy and Harvey for your work on the film." "Rewarding" would be the all time understatement. "Euphorically stimulated" would be putting it more aptly. But our day in the sun was still very young. The accolades and the celebration were about to move (would you believe) to new heights. It was time for brunch.

After a short stroll, no more than a block away from the theater we entered a two-story building and moved upstairs to a private room, which had been reserved by the Hettema Group. Phil Hettema was there to greet each of us individually, and to graciously request we enjoy our celebrity worthwhile repast.

So there we were, about one hundred and twenty folks genuinely enjoying each other. After about forty minutes or so, Phil Hettema came to our side of the room. He asked for our attention, and preceded to compliment every one of us for the work and creativity we brought to the production. Each of us was mentioned by our first and last name. Cathy and I were extremely taken by his overly generous evaluation of our importance to the project.

Early on Monday morning, November 9th, we answered our 4:00 AM wake-up call and were on our way back to Los Angeles.

All who toil in a world of subjective art must be allowed at least one day; a day in the sun.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Veterans Day Parade

My truth be told, from age nineteen on, I've never missed the observance of Veterans Day, nor inwardly enjoyed my pride over being one. It’s a big and special club. I became a member way back in my nineteenth year. What can you say about the inner workings of a nineteen-year-old boy… who was about to become a man?

Although it may have taken awhile for me, today I clearly understand. Becoming a man was what my newly joined club was all about. It was known as the United States Army.

Many today speak of patriotism and heroism, and just about every kind of “ism” known to man. However, most who speak the words have little to reflect upon. When I became an official club member, without knowing it, I was taking my first steps towards walking the walk. It’s a very private thing, requiring many years of cultivating. Today, admittedly my pride in having served this country of ours is a vital part of who I am.

Yes I was in the army, and yes I am proud to say I'm a veteran. As I write and reflect, capsules of my transition to manhood’s beginning moments return with an immediacy, which only the purest of truths could stimulate.

***

In the beginning we were referred to as recruits. And God were we an ugly-looking bunch of guys. The military set out on a goal of having us all look and act the same. Mainly it was the shaved heads, which was the most distressing. Except for the boots, none of us had anything that fit well. We were one hundred and twenty bedraggled what-is-its. Cold, wet, sick, and on the verge of hallucination due to sleep deprivation, another unpleasant ingredient was added to the mix: they began yelling at us. When I asked why I was being yelled (make that screamed) at, the man doing the screaming looked at me with more disdain than I could ever direct an actor to do, and without skipping a beat moved directly in front of me, his nose literally touching mine and shouted, "Give me ten!" I had no idea what in the name of hell he wanted; certainly I didn’t have that much money on my person. “Are you a deaf, 'cruit?” (short for recruit) he bellowed. I began to respond to him about my excellent hearing, when without warning he demanded, “Make that twenty.” Fortunately for me, one of my buddies in the back yelled out, "He wants push-ups." I complied. That was my erstwhile entrance to the infantry / combat engineers basic training indoctrination.

NOTE: I lived.

After four weeks we were a different group of guys. Our physical condition was superb. We were learning the real meaning of teamwork as taught by the military. As they repeated over and over again, “There is a right way, a wrong way, and the army way.”

***

Fort Lewis, Washington; it was a typical February day, chilly and wet. Our company of men had completed the first few weeks of basic training and had been assembled, along with four other companies, as part of our first battalion size (about twenty five hundred) parade. There we were, a group of mostly southern California guys; cold, wet, and experiencing being more miserable than any of us could have imagined. Without exception, all of us had colds.

Nothing mattered to them (our leaders). It was parade day, and we were going to parade regardless of the weather, or how sick we thought we were. Of course the premise was a simple one to understand: War knows no standstill. Sick or not, sleep deprived or well rested, hungry and thirsty, bone weary, lonely and missing your mom, your dad, girlfriend or wife and children, the war as presented by an enemy will go on as scheduled. It’s a show with performances continuing until, and when finally some form of fade comes to pass. Then and only then will the vigilant be permitted to rest, seeking recovery. For many, recovery will never be their option.

There we stood, waiting in a cold mist for the next earth-moving command to be given. Like so many before us, as American soldiers we always found ways to laugh and clown under the worst of circumstances. Most of the time it was nothing more than poking fun at each other. Someone grabbing a guy's rifle and passing it around from one soldier to another. As children we used to call it "keep away." It was nothing more than pure adolescence.

And then my moment of transition arrived; without warning, the unexpected.

The booming voice of our sergeant major brought our meaningless mass together in no more than an instant. We became a solid block. Twenty-five hundred men became an imposing figure. We were at attention. The battalion commander appeared and marched to the center of the parade grounds, standing at attention before the sergeant major, who still remained facing us.

The commander was himself an overpowering figure. He was taller than any of us, and carried himself the way his West Point credentials required. He was a full bird colonel. The emblems glittered on his shoulders as he viewed us as if inspecting the most powerful group of warriors ever seen on this planet. We were taken by our leader's presence.

Our sergeant turned a sharp about face and reported to the colonel, “All present and accounted for as ordered sir,” he bellowed and saluted simultaneously. The colonel returned his salute, and the sergeant moved to a side position, taking his place and becoming one of us. Again the colonel did his review. His eyes inspected all of us with an amazing display of pride, which I had never before experienced. At a seemingly precise moment the sergeant was once again in front of our body. He shouted, "Parade rest!" and as one unit we snapped into position. The sergeant again moved aside and our colonel took charge. The man’s presence was nothing short of inspiring. All was still as the colonel prepared to speak. Then it came: “Men, you are about to experience what only a very select group have ever had the privilege of experiencing.”

At that moment the battalion color guard appeared. To the beat of a single drum they marched into position on the parade grounds. If you can visualize the configuration of a football field; place the color guard at one end of the field. The colonel would be directly behind the guard. Next to enter was the Fort Lewis Army marching band. They took their position directly behind the color guard and in front of the colonel, and our twenty-five hundred man battalion. (What you had was a football field shape, taking up about five times the area.)

“Today you will be representing your country, the United States of America. Are you ready?"

As one we responded with, “Sir, yes sir!”

“Then give them hell, men!” he shouted.

The chills came in waves. What might seem cornball was anything but. The band struck up with John Philip Sousa's Washington Post March, and at the precise moment the colonel bellowed again, "Give them hell, men!" He turned and signaled as if he was conducting a cavalry charge. We marched as one.

And then the final emotional wave, which has remained with me all of my life. I caught sight of our American flag leading our way. To date my chest has never expanded as much as it did on that very chilly day. The chill was gone, along with the young boy. We had exchanged a variety of mild indifference into unabashed pride in one's self, and one's country.

An interesting thing happened on our way back to the barracks following our parade experience. We weren’t the same group of young boys messing around as we did before the parade. That’s not to say our sense of humor had left us. The very next day we all returned to kidding around and still playing our schoolboy tricks on one another. But as this day wore down there were conversations about some unexpected feelings. For me personally, I never totally shared up until now what a life changing experience it was.

For those of you who have visited with me on Sparks St. in Burbank, you will recall our flag flying proudly in front of our door. It’s there every day that I am there.

This coming Wednesday, November 11, we pay tribute to our veterans. I pray you share my pride.

Monday, November 2, 2009

The Actors' Daily

“Each alone must seek out another
Then the two join hands as friends
Providing the rhythms of a new parade
And on it will go, and grow

For only friendship will ease the vacancy,

Experienced by those of us

Within our selected art form”


HK

I grew up hearing my father's words and deeds. His doctrine was simple: “plant, harvest, and never extend your hand looking for something to be given to you free.”

From age nineteen to my current moment of ripeness follows, as sequentially as possible, in order to help in understanding, why and how I entered, developed, and maintained my position in the world of commercial voice over.

Some will say that being in a certain place at a certain time is all the reason a person might need in order to determine their life’s pursuits. It isn’t my intent to agree or disagree with that supposition. All I intend doing is presenting some thoughts about what carried me from one point to another while chasing down answers concerning the who, what, why, when, where, and how of what turns out to be one of the more subjective art forms relative to modern times.

“One day if ever I wish to leave this creative world, I so love... It will be then that I consider really writing a memoir of things I have seen and heard with my own two eyes and ears, without the worry of recounting incidents which might endanger or hurt another mans family or friends.”
- Bill Cullen, as shared with da harv, circa 1979

When Bill Cullen was experiencing his days in the sun, he was undeniably one of the most recognizable figures in these United States. Like many, our family considered him to be one of us. It was the days of black and white small-screen television; with all of us gathered around, taking pride in the fact we each knew everything about everybody who came into our homes to entertain us.

Perhaps you might imagine my excitement when I was about to direct one of my favorite people of all time, the one and only Bill Cullen. At the time, I was working for a commercial talent agency of great prominence (FYI, they’re no longer in business). It was one of the most amazing meetings of my life. Enter Bill Cullen. My boss, not a very thoughtful guy, neglected to tell me about Bill being handicapped. Make no mistake, Bill Cullen's handicap was strictly physical.

All the years I had enjoyed watching him every single week on the tube, I never figured out they were shooting him from the waist up. Bill was always seen seated behind a table or standing behind a speaker’s rostrum.

In reflection, I enjoy thinking back to all the ensuing meetings between Bill and myself. I ultimately became his private coach for a six-month period of time. The lesson I learned: in voice over, a person can be whomever they are capable of portraying.

For the actor seeking out a career in voice over, the only handicap is the actor him or herself.

If you can manage to tell the truth while reading another man's words, you’re on the right road to success. Sounds simple, doesn’t it? The nice thing about telling the truth is we all have the capability of knowing truth from falsehood. If you as a human being perceive something to be the truth, then that’s what it has to be.

Bill Cullen paid tribute to me one day as he recommended me to coach a very well-known actor friend of his. We were sitting together at a table at the Palms Restaurant, when the actor showed up to join us. Bill handled the introductions, and without verbally breaking stride said to the actor, “This is the man I was telling you about. Not to worry about any smoke being blown up your ass.”

Thirty years after that incident, the most active and the biggest money earner in our world of voice over, Don LaFontaine, stood there in my recording room. He had just completed reading for something or other, when, without warning, Don looked straight at me through the glass and said in his own inimitable fashion, “You know why you’re successful Harvey? Because you don’t blow smoke up anyone’s ass!”

It was Bill Cullen, and thirty years later Don LaFontaine who delivered the very same appraisal. But the thing I must honestly report was, I learned the truth lesson long before those gentlemen offered their words of praise.

My dad offered to a then little da harv, “Look the bastard right in the eye, when you shake hands, and for God's sake tell him the truth.” It’s a glorious thing to know in this day and age of second-by-second change in communication methods, the good stuff; the social graces which the real ladies and gentlemen conduct themselves in accordance with never changes.

Next time you’re on mic, tell the truth, even if it happens to be stream of consciousness.

While Bill Cullen is no longer with us, many of his dear friends still manage to endure. Most of them, which I choose to write about or mention fleetingly during my descriptive, have magic about them. Like Bill Cullen of my past, Orson Bean remains a working part of today. People would tune in to visit with Orson and to experience the radiance of his smiling truthfulness. Orson is another of the old guard who refers to me as lad. The fact, this lad happens to be a grandfather is not a deterrent. I guess once a lad, always a lad.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Then And Now, In The Little Theatre

During the winters of my junior and high school years, when I spent fewer hours competing in school sports, I often devoted industrious days and weeks working in many of the tiny legit theatres, which dotted a narrow stretch of Santa Monica Blvd. Today, “Equity Waiver” productions are usually presented in these houses with less than one hundred seats, often with less than sixty seats. The West Hollywood area of Los Angeles was a much sleepier and laid back community than today’s latest edition.

These theatres may have been small, with limited seating, but almost all of them were being funded by the working journeyman actors who had ventured fourth from the New York boards of Broadway, Off-Broadway, and Off-Off-Broadway productions. They were actors who worked in film but, without exception, missed the continual challenges of live performance.

To a young boy, seeing all of these recognizable silver screen heroes and heroines was tantamount to spending morning noon and night in Toyland. I couldn’t get enough. The way each of them carried themselves was a story in itself. Some literally reeked of glamour. For me, it was sponge time. I didn’t miss a trick. Make no mistake… in the beginning I was an “errand lad*.”

*The way an Irish actor referred to me. Whenever anyone in the theatre needed something, this “errand lad” became the designee. I never once considered it an imposition. I considered myself an important member of the team.

It was during my membership, as a participant, on many of these theatrical teams, without knowing it I was receiving the most comprehensive training a young professional could possibly reap.

The rewards and consequences of those early years have provided me with an immeasurable intellectual and spiritual harvest.

And then of course, there was radio. For me, it was and still is a double dose of my favorite pie; the kind you think about having seconds of before you even finish the first bite.

Way back, when kids came home from school and listened to the radio, they were simultaneously feeding their own personal imaginations.

Many of the same New York actors I encountered during my early theatre work were extremely prominent as players on the early soaps and serials of the radio shows I listened to as a child. The origin of these radio shows were similar in nature. Most of them were derived from comic books, such as Superman, Batman, The Lone Ranger, Captain Marvel, Captain Midnight, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

We all read about Tarzan, Sherlock Holmes, Superman, and, of course, our cowboy heroes. With radio, the printed word came to life. These heroes were different from the athletes we looked up to and modeled ourselves after. Going to a ball game allowed you to see and cheer right there before you in living vibrant color. With radio, you listened as you painted, in your minds eye, pictures of the action. Every one of my friends could announce the bumpers (lead-ins) of every serial drama. As a matter of fact… we had all the singing commercials memorized as well.

Disillusionment, Turned To Realization

It was on one day in particular when I found myself excited over the opportunity of meeting the actor who had been a notable on one of my favorite action radio shows. He was set to come in and read for a play we were about to stage. My anticipation was the same as preparing to meet Sandy Koufax or Don Drysdale. I mean, I was stoked. And then the air was taken from my over-sized balloon when I was introduced to my prospective hero. It was actually a two-stage reaction: sight and sound.

For certain, in the world of voice over, one must never judge a book by its cover. The actor I was introduced to appearance-wise was the last human being one might cast as an action hero. He was short, slight, and balding. But when he said hello, the theatre vibrated from the resonance of his deep baritone voice.

It was years later, after the introduction learning experience, when that moment of enlightenment became an integral part of the voice over syllabus we still use in all levels of our educational program for voice over actors.

The bottom line remains the same: listening and increasing your listening skills will allow your mind to take in the salient truth of the moment. Being a good listener is not only one of the highest forms of graciousness, but likely the most necessary ingredient for the working actor's success. Those of us who master the skill of looking and listening simultaneously are the artists who most inherently have the ability of presenting the truth.

The theatre and radio; what a great and cherished combo to have as a young man's foundation. The old timers used to say, “Reading, writing and arithmetic,” were the most important keys. For me they were, “Reading, writing and radio.”

Friday, October 23, 2009

Pet Peeves

Many of the subjects I write about are generated from the literally thousands of questions I’ve had to deal with in our world of the commercial voice over.

While commercial voice over is definitely an acting craft, there is a certain amount of difference between how the actors relate during the commercial VO audition and the theatrical audition.

The nature of the business is such that the journeyman VO actor is involved with many more auditions than that of his counterparts in TV, film, or theater.

With volume (a great number of auditions) comes a serious condition: it’s called complacency. It kind of sounds like vacancy, doesn’t it? If you happen to be looking for an apartment to rent, look for a complacent actor. If you have the time to wait, you will be rewarded. The complacent actor (unless they're rich by way of inheritance) will soon find himself or herself (usually it’s a him) looking for a cheaper place to live.

And so here is my first peeve: The VO actor who says, “It's all a numbers game.” I see this guy or gal often. They take things for granted and make statements which exemplify failure. Yes… I did say I see this often, but not from the same actors. You see, complacency by anyone is a pet peeve of mine. An actor displaying this aggravating syndrome usually doesn’t make it back for another crack with da harv.

“The very best work I’ve ever done during my professional career, I did for free.”
HK

Another complacent VO actor quote: “Oh they’ll know what they want when they hear it.”

I don’t necessarily disagree with this premise. What peeves me is who is making the statement. During a given audition, before telling the actor I felt they were missing the mark with their indifference to following the directions we go to the trouble of providing, I try not to be complacent. I’ll redirect and give them a take two, or what I refer to as "another day in court." If it happens to be a young actor, or an individual new to our business, I take the liberty of providing that actor with an unsolicited lecture. Much of this particular lecture (yes, I do have many of them) is brought to you thanks to the efforts of John Houseman, and every athletic coach I’ve experienced while growing up.

Attributable to John Houseman is one of my favorite quotes: “Complacency should be used as your condition during the portrayal of the part you’re playing. Complacency should never be a display of who you are, or might be, as a human being!”

Without exception, the baseball coaches all have this credo: “You always go all out to win. You always run out every ground ball and pop fly. If you go through the motions, you’re gone.”

It's an interesting phenomena; the vast majority of show business people and successful athletes in every sport have in common the one thing they're not: Complacent.

I’ve experienced firsthand some of the biggest names in our profession display tireless enthusiasm over projects not worthy of their stage presence.

And athletes who show up long before their call time and leave later than anyone else on the team become the stars that manage to maintain their consistent glow.

Of the actors and athletes who early on were advised they didn’t have what it takes, but ignored the advice to quit while the quitting was good, they were the ones who remained and persevered. None were complacent.

Many think the term “The show must go on,” was originated by a producer who didn't have a worthwhile understudy ready to go on. Others claim it was the understudy who fed rancid food to the star and then pronounced they were ready to go on despite the depression they were feeling over the loss of the very same thespian they had poisoned. In any event, none showed complacency. I guess that’s the point.

Truth be told, enthusiasm and poisoning don’t go hand in hand.