Looking Back

The other day, for whatever the reason, I found myself wondering about years past, as I looked in the mirror during my early morning "get ready" for work routine. It was a good thing. The way it used to be, way back in the fifth or sixth grade.

I’m sure most of you over the age of thirty, from time to time wonder where an old childhood friend might be today. How did he or she turn out? What variety of life’s pitfalls did they overcome? He might have been the best athlete in the school; someone you admired, or competed with. She was the little girl with the big smile who sat directly in front of you; the one who was the smartest kid in the class. I saw faces; remembered attitudes; who was tall; who was sloppy, and who was neat. There were aggressive kids and those so shy the teachers had trouble getting them to participate on anything requiring a verbal presentation up in front of the class. The voices are gone. For whatever the reason, I can recall many of the faces, but what my schoolmates sounded like escapes me.

It was a time in my life when all of us had everything in common. We were boys and girls who lived in the same neighborhood, went to the same school, and shared the label of middle class Americans, not poor, not rich, decidedly middle.

The word love rarely came into a meaningful play; nor was the term hate used in a serious vein. “I love chocolate. I hate chocolate.” That was about the extent of our love/hate expression.

Most of us have delved into self-reflection. It’s ours to experience, usually at our own propelled bidding. Naturally there are the conditioned response memories, times when without warning an event resurfaces, allowing pleasures as a rekindling; Some to our liking, bringing smiles, with endearments, capturing the moments in time which are ours alone to savor. Surely there were the not so pleasant events, none of us wish to relive. But those are the ones we learn and experience growth from by thinking back.

At eleven years of age, it was my first really deep thought experience. Up until that moment, what had existed for this sixth grader were happiness, laughter, and the occasional disappointment over the realization the Dodgers were not going to win the pennant for yet another year.

Robert wasn’t a really close friend of mine. He was one of those quiet introverted types. He wasn’t a klutz, but by the same token he wasn’t a kid who was one of the first to be picked when we were choosing up sides for a sandlot ballgame. Robert did however have the unpleasant distinction of being the first kid in our class to lose a parent. I suppose it was a day or two following his father's funeral that Robert returned to school. He looked different to me. There was something in Robert’s eyes that told the story. Of course his life would never be the same; none of us knew that. What we didn’t know was Robert’s loss was also ours. For the first time in my life I was to say, “I’m sorry about your Dad, Robert.” Robert could barely speak. I don’t recall a sound being made. Robert mustered a token thank you nod. The next day I picked him first to play on my team. To this day I wish I might have picked him before his Dad was gone.

Loss or gain is always an action, which causes change. For an eleven-year-old boy in the sixth grade, a new thought was to be perceived without warning. While I had not yet used the word empathy, I would never the less have it with me for the rest of my life.

***

From time to time I will be writing about some of my friends from the past who have become well known to the world. There names will be changed to protect their privacy.

"I Wrote A Blog"

“I Wrote A Blog”

Entitled:

“From the Heart”; Taking a stand for what you believe and what it means to the actors of Los Angeles and all over the country; perhaps the world.

***

Straight from the shoulder was a way of communication taught to me at such an early age, I doubt if I could even recall when my Father began it all. What I do remember, most of all were his words to the wise; and that would be me. In no uncertain terms my Dad said:

“If you have the courage to take a stand, on your own, on behalf of the next guy, when at first glance it appears to be of little benefit to you personally, then be prepared for the outcome, which in most cases will provide personal loneliness, and disappointment.”

Charlie, aka my Dad, was attesting to his belief, that to take a stand for the next guy, will not bring more than a fleeting fame, or fortune, or acclaim. Rather, he said a thank you would be your welcomed gratuity; not that you were seeking any. But it isn’t my intent to describe personal disappointment as derived from monetary loss. I’m talking about the deep disappointment, which I derive from people in general. Charlie warned me about expecting too much from people. He told me not to let them get to me, yet over and over in my lifetime I’ve kept from heeding his words.

“Do it for the good feeling it gives you, never because of any monetary rewards. “

Charlie was the definitive Good Samaritan. I personally experienced his courage come into play on more than one occasion. Once as a little boy, Charlie and I, as would be the case for many Fathers and sons, were at Ebbetts Field for a ball game. It was about the fourth inning, when these three guys, who had had too much beer to drink, began to make real pests of themselves. A young family that included a Father and his two kids was sitting close by. The drinkers became too rowdy for Charlie’s liking, and as their language disintegrated along with their faculties, so did Charlie’s patience. If I remember correctly, little da harv was about ten years old at the time. I wasn’t the least bit afraid because I was there with my proven champion.

There was an apparent bad call by an umpire, and it had the effect of really setting these three guys off. Now they felt justification to become a mob. The three of them were on their feet and chanting one expletive after another for all to hear. Charlie cupped his hands together, and let go with a marvelously cultivated Brooklyn shriek of his; yelling at the three of them, “Hey guys how about giving it a rest!” Charlie, all five foot five inches of him stood there looking straight at these jerks. He motioned for them to sit down, and that’s exactly what the three noisemakers did. The very next inning they were once again on there feet making every one uncomfortable. This time without hesitation Dad signaled to a near by usher and in very short order the three guys were ejected from the ballpark. I remember it as if it were yesterday. Dad had gently pushed me behind him when he first made eye contact with the three guys. On the way home I received a verbal lesson, which still holds true today.

“Never become violent with anyone in a situation like the one that happened to us today. Take your stand as a man, but don’t be the one to raise your hands combatively unless it’s the only way to protect yourself against the bullies of this world.”

Dad referred to the mob mental cases as bullies. He had four sisters, and five brothers who all shared his mantra. They had never met a bully who didn’t take on a true posture of cowardice when separated from the mob they ran with. While they have long ago passed on, to this day and forever I will take great pride as I think back to the stalwartness of my Kalmenson uncles. Family, friends, home, our country, it’s people; in that order, became their order of importance. They were never part of a gang of hooligans. I guess with that many brothers and sisters in the family they really had a gang of their own. All of them became successful working middle class citizens. Some served in the Second World War. A few of the family members had established a small degree of name recognition. None of them went to college, and probably only half attended high school. Beginning with the third and fourth grade, all of the brothers and sisters worked to bring in what ever they could in order to help support the family. In that era, employees were paid with cash. At the end of each week pay envelopes would be issued. The year was 1941. Social Security had been in place for six years, and was of little consequence at the time. Family medical insurance and welfare was non-existent. My Dad’s two-year-old Chevrolet cost him a whopping nine hundred bucks. The theme each of the immigrant families revered was simple and straight to the point;

Stand up for your near and dear. Take a stand and make sure you’re counted. If help is needed, be the one to be there.

Who knows what the cause may have been. Some said the new arrivals to the United States learned to say please and thank you as their first and most important words in the English language; words they felt would help them to assimilate. They strove for ways to become one with The United States Of America. They easily down played the boorish displays of the three guys at the ball game, in favor of standing, and joining in with great pride in the singing of our national anthem before the start of each game; and being an every guy contributor in the bottom of the seventh inning when it was time for “Take Me Out To The Ball Game”.

And as an aside…in the movie theaters they stood and sang, often before the feature came up on the screen. When the American flag appeared on screen, the audience broke into spontaneous applause. Honestly, I will never have the best words available, for me in order to describe ours, the genuineness of so many moments, so many years ago. Nor can I offer anything more than mere opinion over why a man or woman will stand by a brethren, willing to sacrifice in order to take a stand for no other reason other than it was the right thing to do.

(And back to “From The Heart”)

On June 13, of this year 2011, I shared with you via blog, some of my inner most feelings. I threw caution to the proverbial wind as I chose to ignore some of my Fathers most sacrosanct leanings. To date, I have received two formal references to “From The Heart”, the blog, (mine) in question. And as my Father pointed out with his patented approach, displaying complete certainty, what followed my posting of “From The Heart”, was the revelation; my Father was correct once again. The loneliness he referred to with his assumptions truthfully does not play a part in my life. The aspect of the disappointment however does. I’ve never learned how to resign myself to it. My salve has been an acquired one. Learn to live with it Harvey; that’s the way it is; accept this credo: Disappointment goes with life’s territory. I learned about disappointment long before I entered the world of show business. A person does not have to become bellicose, nor depressed, as the end result of each and every one of life’s disappointments. When I asked people to take a stand, I did so from the deepest place in my heart. The air we breathe and the words we hear today make me fearful of a repeat of one of histories most vile eras.

There Will Be Times To Reflect, "As Time Goes By"

In two large corrugated cartons stored in the corner of my office, there are many stories, which will forever remain, not found, and most likely never again to be read by anyone but me. Scripts that began with a dream, and ended in two nondescript boxes in the corner of an office. It took all of five years to fill the two boxes, probably around forty pounds of paper, eighteen hundred and twenty five days of an immeasurable journey. The worth of the trip is only a selfish value. I’ve talked to other writers who cop the plea allowing how they were only writing for themselves anyway. If they happened to get paid for their labors, it would represent icing on the cake. To them I would offer, “What good is icing when you don’t have a cake to put it on?”

The younger writer brings enthusiasm. The older writer finds his or her enthusiasm turning to cynicism, without willful attempt. The younger writer tells a story with his or her passion for the truth being enthusiasm for the life and times being depicted. The older writer may bring forth a truth cloaked in cynicism regardless of the time period they’ve chosen to write about; happening without a willfulness to be downtrodden.

Many of us have given in to following a heart whose choice for joy is far less indiscriminate than should be allowed; our choices are not without limits. Personally, I admit, not necessarily to poor judgment, but too often to no judgment at all. I doubt if many young people enter into a pursuit of a dream, by first really taking heed of their dreams' limitations. If you’re dreaming about your dream not coming true, the result will be just that. The question becomes, why in the name of good common sense did I fill the two boxes in the corner of my office? My writing was a day and night never-ending pursuit. The words hit the paper with reckless abandon. Days, weeks, months, and finally five years of damage had to be accounted for.

While I was never guilty of deliberately conjuring defeatist’s thoughts, my dreams of success at the heights of the literary world had come to a sour end. Sound the trumpets; reality had set in. What does remain in my minds' eye, and perhaps will stay with me forever, is the stack of rejection letters I received during the course of my travails as a struggling scribe. At first I found the letters shocking, mainly because much of what the reviewers had to say about my work didn’t jive. It often came across as if they had sent the rejection notice to the wrong writer. I actually found myself wondering what in the world they were talking about. But the turn-downs that remained with me were the ones that were just outright cruel. One review was particularly nasty. It came in at the end of my professional writing career.

Note: I had already made my mind up about the futility of my continuing pursuit of a career as a writer.

The reviewer attacked me with a vengeance. Line by line, she pointed out my obvious ineptitude. That became it for me. The time had arrived. The cartons were sealed. However, not all was lost. Her review provided me with two pluses. It improved my vocabulary. Nothing in the review was the least bit conversational. It wasn’t a tutorial. It would be a much better descriptive if I referred to her assessment of my work as a verifiable documentation of my inability to communicate at even an average level of intellectuality. And secondly, after rereading her assertions of my literary clumsiness, I laughed uncontrollably for the balance of the afternoon, most likely a form of temporary insanity.

The amazing part about all of this is how many years ago it all took place. Everyday we hear someone remark about how fast time is flying by. “I can’t believe it’s Christmas, or New Years again. What happened to the summer? Your daughter is how old?” Probably one of the most agreed upon terms in all of humanity: Race, creed, color, religious preference, men, women, friends and enemies. The universal cry for all is agreed on: Time flies by, “As Time Goes By”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7vThuwa5RZU


So, if we all agree about how short life really is, why do so many of us waste it? Why do we usually do just the opposite of what should be done in order to slow things down?

The other day I gave an actor the note, “Romance it a little.” His look wasn’t one of complete understanding, because the script wasn’t calling for any degree of intimacy. I added,
” Read in the present as if you’re relishing the moment, and recognizing the satisfaction you personally are experiencing.” And the key to all this is not merely asking the actor to slow his reading pace, but rather slow because of a pertinent reason to do so. What better reason could there be than creating the romance of what once was commonplace? It may have been a fleeting moment you’re reflecting on, but in the instant it takes to recreate it, your thought process will bring into play the missing romance aspect required.

The boxes in the corner of my office are not painful keepsakes. They have within them some tears, some laughter, and a great many dreams of what could have been. What they don’t have are buttons, switches, portable screens, and games to be played. Nothing in those cartons was ever “Googled”. The five years cannot be recaptured. The content of those boxes however are mine to recall and savor at my will. The five years may have been nothing more than short flashes of light, but the pages will never again be misunderstood. Those are mine forever to recall, “As Time Goes By.”

• Is the vast number of words in our world ever read?
• If every discarded script in our fair city was solicited for a paper drive, would there be enough space in our city o hold them?
• Is there anyone in Los Angeles (Hollywood) who doesn’t have a script in his or her possession that will be the next blockbuster sensation?

When People Talk (To Each Other)

“Conversation"

Talk about ever-changing. The advent of our electronic age has influenced our lives and has certainly placed a variety of new pressures on today’s voice over talent. But guess what? The voice is definitely secondary to the performance, and voice over as we know it remains an acting craft. As a matter of fact, there are more inherent acting requirement skills on today’s competitive actor then ever before.

Contrary to what has become an accepted belief, the advertising agencies don’t control what the public likes to hear -- they provide it. The general public always shows their likes and dislikes by the way a commercial is accepted. The agency pundits refer to this phenomenon as a "trend." The same has applied to theatrical films since their inception.

The interesting thing about trends is they might come and go, but never entirely disappear. Often the public treats a conceptual return as one might treat an old friend returning after being away for a while.

From 1960 on commercials used almost every form of communication in order to sell product. Every fancy electronic connivance has been tried, but thankfully, the wizards of innovation have not been able to replace the human instrument (voice). God knows it’s not because they haven’t tried -- everything from talking toys, to the most sophisticated forms of science fiction delivered by computerized animation. The public stays constant with their preference for the truth. It may be a talking toilet complaining about being mistreated by it’s owner, but the voice coming at you is that of a real live human being delivering the lines while following any number of possible directions: bad, sad, glad, mad, sick, upset, bright, dull, big, small, blue collar, or upscale.

And what follows is the most consistent trend the commercial advertisement industry has experienced to date:

“Laid back and conversational.”

And yes, you’ve heard this direction before, but it bears repeating:

“No announcers.”

And the wonderful people putting out those directions by and large have never been in front of the camera, or a microphone. In other words… they’re asking the actors to do something they themselves have never been successful at professionally. We find non-performers responsible for writing most of the commercial scripts we receive from the advertising agencies. The written directions are not theatrically driven. Some of the blame must be placed on the sponsors who indiscriminately over load the commercials with facts and numbers, which translate into a pushy type of sales approach. When this happens, we (the casting company) can also expect as part of the directions, the instructions for us not to let the actors become too much of a salesman or saleswoman. And invariably, when we get our hot little hands on the script, there it is right smack up at the top, a word none of us would ever use conversationally: "Introducing."

“Accomplished actors book more jobs.”

Our responsibility as actors is to make it work. If we make it work, they pay us -- the same people who furnished the seemingly contradictory directions.

“Conversationally Speaking”

Make it real -- what a concept. Like actual human beings in a conversation. At a glance, your first thought might be, “Are these people stark raving mad?”

I can advise actors until I’m blue in the face, of how counter-productive an un-positive attitude is. Yet there still remain a number of folks who don’t get it. If you bring an attitude into the recording booth with you, it will be hard to shake loose of it during your performance.

“Be a listening type observer.”

There are many questions about the every day occurrences of people having, or attempting to have a conversation.

“Rely on your past in order to get and keep a handle on today and tomorrow.”

About conversation:
* Is it general (in nature)?
* Is it casual?
* Is it polite?
* Is it off the cuff?
* Spiritual?
* Meaningful?
* Of importance?
* Of great importance?
* Of no importance at all?
* Is the person doing the talking speaking at the other person with the singular intent of hearing him, or herself talking?

Note: The more an actor listens to him or herself while attempting to perform conversationally, the less chance there is of accomplishing a creative portrayal of any kind or type.

Be aware of people holding conversations. It doesn’t really matter where or when. You may notice the person doing the talking doesn’t have to be an actor in order to be enraptured with themselves.

My concern is always improvement, whether it is self or another’s improvement as a person, or improvement in order to enhance one's income. Improvement means individual growth. Growth and success are not necessarily synonymous in the immediate future, but without personal growth, success becomes problematical. Learning some guidelines about conversation spells growth.

For the time being force yourself to discern some basic conversational differences. What kind of conversation are you observing?

* Polite and cordial?
* Passionate?
* Concerned?
* Matter of fact or off the cuff?
* Sarcastic?
* Imperative?
* Deliberate advice?
* Who are you conversing with?
* Where are you?
* What time of day is it?
* Why are you in conversation with this person?

The above are only a short list of conversational possibilities. In reality, the list is endless. If you get nothing from this offering other than the following two advisements, you’re well on the road to improving your conversational skills.

“At the audition”

1. Don’t be afraid of asking your imaginary conversation partner a question, either verbally or by doing your own subconscious degree of wonderment.

2. Be genuinely responsive to the person you’re attempting to have a conversation with.

The above items are excerpts from a syllabus first presented at the University Of Southern California by Harvey Kalmenson, and is currently used as an application within our current Kalmenson & Kalmenson educational curriculum.

… and speaking of income,

When it comes to an actor’s possible income, my professional mentoring remains, of course, in the field of voice over.

As a director, educator, and casting director, I find myself in the admirable position of being able to offer salient points to actors which are necessary for them to compete in today’s highly charged marketplace.

And certainly a key word in the preceding paragraph is definitely today’s market place. What changes tomorrow will bring are unknown. The actors who have developed a strong basic repertoire of emotional deliveries will always meet our industries nuances with confidence; which breeds success.

The ball is in your acting court. As we say at the beginning of our Level Two workshop: "How badly do you want it?"

Working Reality

Ever dread being in front of a particular somebody who, even in his or her own dreams, wouldn’t be referred to as a director? Usually a guy or gal who epitomizes the true meaning of the word "ego."

Forget about it, my friends. You’re going to have to deal with it, whether you like it or not. It’s your work, your profession, and perhaps what happens in order to feed your family. Just grin and bear it. Tomorrow will be a better day. Remember, mediocrity is not limited to politicians. There are many folks within our industry whose positions of attainment are quizzical at best. Total wonderment, to say the least. How did they get where they are?

As said a million times before da harv came along, the audition is your life’s work as a voice over artist. The gig itself is really the icing on the cake. Bad direction during the audition presents nothing more than a work-around for the experienced actor. All of us develop little tricks, allowing for our own good taste, in order to interpret the audition script. But the little tricks you will develop must never be hurtful or cause embarrassment to the person who is there to direct you. It’s just like being in a restaurant: Don’t insult your waiter or waitress. Good to know the food you're about to eat doesn’t have any "getting even" quality to it.

The same applies to your audition director. It’s nice to know your audition makes it to the powers that be. Treat your audition director with reverence whether he or she has earned it or not.

The actual session, on the other hand, is a different story. You’re being paid to be there, and to take and follow directions. Please don’t fall into the terrible trap of doing an analysis of the director’s personality (reserve becoming a psychologist for when you are a paid professional).

AT THE SESSION

DISCLAIMER: WHAT FOLLOWS IS MY OWN, PERSONAL, DIRECTOR'S POINT OF VIEW.

Most of what I am going to impart will apply almost entirely to commercial sessions, as opposed to theatrical performances. Reason being: The commercial session more often than not brings with it far more cooks than should be in the proverbial kitchen. This phenomenon requires much more tolerance on the part of the director, as well as the actors involved.

I.e., at one session which I was hired to direct, there were no less than fifteen people in the control area with me. That’s not a typo. Fifteen people who, (borrowing from Orson Welles) within the depths of their ignorance, still managed to offer an overabundance of unnecessary babble for the actors to cipher. That is, in the event I’ve allowed them to do so. Some were from the advertising agency, while others were with the production company responsible for the animated characters we were there to create the voices for. While this represents an extreme situation, it did happen, and it exemplifies the necessity for the actor to be and stay focused on what the assigned director is requesting of them.

NOTE: If the director happens to be yours truly (ME), you can expect total courtesy.

Your job will be to listen and look at me when I’m speaking to you, or in the case of multiple actors in the recording booth simultaneously, to pay equal attention to me (as your director) even when I am offering direction to one or more of the other actors involved.

The people positioned behind me are not privy to my facial expression.

(I make sure to position myself so as not to allow a reflection of da harv to appear on the glass, which separates the control room from the recording booth.)

Unless the lead producer insists on speaking directly to the actor or actors in the booth, I will be the only one (as director) giving you instructions.

(I set this up in advance with the assigned engineer, who makes sure I have the only button to activate the microphones on our side of the glass.)

In other words… if the people behind me have anything to say, I’m the one who will act as the translator between them and the actors. Here’s the way it is in a nutshell. I speak the actor’s language, the entourage behind me doesn’t. But, at the same time, we must never lose track of the team’s objectives. Yes, there were far too many people present during the session. All of them in attendance had the same target to focus in on; the best voice over performances possible. If however they were all allowed to communicate their thoughts to the actors, we might all still be there trying to complete the project. I will admit, fifteen people in the booth at the same time could be a record attendance. What is mind-boggling about the session I’ve described for you, is the same mistake is constantly being perpetrated throughout our industry. Once again, what it all boils down to is: Too many cooks spoil the broth. They simply don’t get it.

The bottom line: Our job as the actor or director is to do the very best we can.

I find the easiest way to accomplish this goal is to stay in the game no matter how difficult conditions may become. It’s not an audition.

The fact is, we’re being paid to listen and to do.

Who Am I

What is it that helps you identify a person by the sound of his or her voice?

Sure the first and probably best answer would be "familiarity." That one's the easiest to remember.

If you chat with a person often enough, you most likely will be able to recognize their sound after just hearing a word or two. We all have our own distinctive voice print. High or low, fast talker or slow, or maybe as clear as a bell; maybe too darn soft, or way too loud most of the time. Some of us even might sound like they need to be oiled to help get rid of that damn squeaky sound. Or there are people like da harv who have that "lived-in" sound that some describe as whiskey, or dry, or used. Voice recognition. For sure it’s the same process as identifying a musical instrument. I mean a musical instrument that’s not plugged into a wall socket. I’m referring to the sound of a violin, or a guitar, or a trumpet. We’ve all grown up listening to these and similar musical instruments as well as listening to an enormous variety of sounds that emanate from the human instrument.

Just as there are many people who are very adept musicians, there are also many actors who are extremely good readers and, in addition to that, have a magnificent sounding instrument.

The very same may be said about singers.

What we’re getting at now is not a question of whether or not they have a recognizable sound, or how pretty that sound may be. What I’m moving towards is what we listen for as casting directors. What magic do these seemingly special people have? The people who manage to get the work. The "demand players," regardless of what art form they have chosen to pursue. Why do they manage to excel in the most subjective art form of all: The Voice Over. The verbal Picasso’s; each of these wonderful artists has developed their own comfort zone. We choose to call it their own "signature."

Imagine that we have a Stradivarius at our disposal. Arguably the best crafted and best sounding musical instrument known to man. Along with our Stradivarius, we are miraculously able to assemble the three most renowned violin virtuosos in the world. Each of our violinists will be playing the same piece of music on our Stradivarius. It’s the classical piece: “Schubert's Serenade.” As each of our musicians concludes their rendering, we find ourselves emotionally moved by the individuality of their musical interpretations.

Here’s the point. All three used the same instrument and played the same piece of music. We found ourselves completely entertained and spiritually moved by their performances. Yet, despite the similarities, there was noticeably a masterful difference that stood out. Each of our players had their own way of telling the truth. Each had an individual signature. When we examine the instant replay and slow down the tape, more of their differences can be observed without even listening to the sound. Each of our musicians handles their instrument with a different form of obvious care. Their appearance on stage is dissimilar; their stances have individuality, as do their facial displays. So what makes them different? What gives one a more dramatic feel than the others? What makes one sound as if only pleasantness has surrounded their lifetime?

The answer to all of these questions surely must be qualified as being subjective. Our experience with many years within the creative world has taught us, if nothing else, that methods for creating emotion can not be manufactured. Our proven method can only help bring out what was already there for you to either share or hide from the world.

Our musicians displayed honest emotions. What they had in common was two-fold. On one hand there were all the mechanical moves for making themselves comfortable. I refer to their setup. Their own way of coming on stage and with a nod, allowing that they were ready to perform. That was the obvious.

But in that singular instant of what appeared to be nothing more than setup time, something else occurred. In an instant almost too minimal to notice, the three of them in their own way displayed a calm and a confidence that emanated from their total and absolute belief: "I belong here. I am entitled." Every odor, every site line, every audience murmur was a reinstitution of personal joy. They reeked of belonging. And what in the name of hell does all or any of this have to do with voice over? The "what’s missing" is the fact that these professionals all were able to consistently visualize there past images of success. All this accomplished in an instant. And all attributed to one simple word: Reflection.

I’ll admit that what I’m about to share with you was said by a kid with a very high IQ. The fact that it was a five year old kid makes the simplicity and depth of what follows a touch on the over-powering side. Trust me for a moment more, I do have a reason for relating a poignant incident.

It happened on a warm and sunny day during a summer school break. The schoolyard on this Saturday afternoon was a bustle with a bunch of kids as busy as you could possibly be, doing what kids are supposed to do: Having fun. You all know how five-year-old little boys play. They go all out until they drop. Then and only then, they know that it might be time to stop. Mom might be calling them home to eat, or dad is there to put his own boy on his shoulders for the ride home.

One of the dads, as he helped to tie his son’s shoe, asked the little guy playfully what was keeping that big smile stamped on his face. “I’m thinking about what a great day I had today, and what a good time I’m going to have tomorrow,” was the reply to his father's question.

Well, you might be under the impression that my story is over. I don’t blame you. That was pretty powerful stuff coming from a five year old. I mean, the kid was able to reflect in order to feel happiness. But remember, I began by saying the kid had a very high IQ. Hold on... it gets better. Since they only lived a couple of blocks from the neighborhood school yard, our young group arrived home in no more than a few short minutes.

Our little boy's closest friend managed to make it home first. When our father and son approached their front door they found the friend sitting on the front porch with tears in his eyes. It didn’t take long to find out that the friend's little dog was nowhere to be found. It was one of those times when a kid knows that an end had come. The two boys sat there on the porch, asking about the dog. In a few minutes, Dad returned to the front porch and found the two boys once again in a good mood. That night after dinner, he asked his boy what had made his little friend happy again. “I don’t know, Dad. All I did was remind him of how great a time we had today, and how we were going to do the same thing tomorrow.” Wow. A promise of future happiness based on a five year old's reflection of the past.

While the afternoon was a fleeting moment in the day of a five year old, it never the less served as a lesson learned. Emotion shared freely brings a purity that can not be challenged. Here we have an incident when a five year old was able to bring comfort to his friend by reminding his friend of what happiness they had shared. Need I use the term "reflection" again? While it might not be necessary, I’m going to end this little sermon with a reminder: The most important commodity we might have been endowed with is a brain that gives us all the ability to recall a pleasant moment. Again, we’re back with my favorite tool for comprehension. The ability to recall honestly.

Emotion shared freely brings a purity that cannot be challenged.

Goals and Aspirations

I’ve been privileged to work and be taught by some of our industries most recognized dynamos. I consider myself a gleaner. If a guy or gal had even a modicum of success, the Kalmenson sponge (that’s me) was there to look and listen.

Many of da harv’s tricks are nothing more than observances of some noteworthy professionals that I managed to be privy to.

That being the case, let’s try this one on for size. Relax, this may hurt just a little.

You get your chance to get off the bench and get into the game; but because you didn’t believe in yourself, or you were told you’d never get in the game, or you were just too damn lazy to get off that -- uh, butt of yours, and experience the pain of getting and staying ready. You marched up there not ready to sweat.

Not to worry, though. You’re part of a great big club of humans just like yourself. You are average. And because you’re average, you’ll never have to concern yourself with being recognized as a winner. That’s not to say that coaches in management won’t be aware of your average-ness. They know that you may be counted on to be a comfortable person. You’re satisfied with your lot in life. You’re on a level plane. Why try harder? If you try harder you might perspire and that could cause an uncomfortable situation for what may or may not come next in your life.

Well, what comes next in your life is the only situation that places the average person on the same level as the above average person, or "competitor." The reason is simple. None of us ever know what’s coming next.

The cards are constantly being shuffled and dealt out to us. Some of us manage to stay in the game. Others simply fold, throwing in their hand and searching for a more favorable game.

The average person feels that they have been dealt a series of lousy hands. The cards are always running against them. They never stop to think that maybe they happen to be lousy players. Luck just seems to be always going against them.

The fact is and always has been the same. Average people never win anything when the outcome is based on skill. Skills are always developed if they are nurtured. Nurture means practice, and a player who practices finds him or herself ready when he or she is called to get off the bench and get in the game.

In voice over, your game is known as "the audition." When you’re called upon to audition, you’d better be ready. You can’t be average and expect to have even the slightest chance of becoming a winner in our world of voice over. You must be able to read. I mean read without dropping words.

Can you imagine an actor who comes into audition for me and spends most of his time explaining the problems that this script represents? Sound familiar?

This actor wants me to deal him a new hand. The poor bastard can’t read! He’s a lousy player! But he thinks, once again, he’s been dealt a hand to play that’s bad. Guess what? I’m going to make his life a lot more comfortable. I’m never going to call him off the bench again. Not only that, I’m not going to provide that player with a bench to sit on.

When that player’s agents offers us his name for another of our casting calls, it will be explained to them in no uncertain terms that their player should not be recommended to us again. The reason is simple: Your actor better learn how to read if you expect him to play in our game.

Well, at this point if you think I’m a cruel guy, you too should find a different game to play in. Read no further, it’s going to become more uncomfortable for you, but while a higher degree of discomfort sets in, take pleasure in the fact that now you’re joining a more select club. You’re part of my favorite group of people: Those who fall into the select crowd that wear the "above average" label.

These are the actors that we rely on to make us look good as casting directors. We call them in to audition knowing that we will always get an above average performance, regardless of what the script portends to be. These are the Los Angeles, New York, and Chicago professionals; the big leaguers.

They come to play every day. They practice their craft each and everyday. They’re constantly seeking a new and magical approach that will give them that necessary winning edge. I’ve even heard some of them use the term “winning edge” in conversation.

In truth, what has happened for them is that remarkable acting phenomenon called the breakthrough; that moment when true actors find themselves able to convey honest emotions.

They no longer worry about words. They no longer concentrate on what they might happen to sound like. In our world they no longer concern themselves with selling the product. They seek out a variety of stimuli that might enable them to convey as the vendor of truth a reason for their listener to become influenced by their message.

The question remains the same—How did they manage to move on up?

It is pedestrian to say, without practice, forget about making it. I want to strenuously emphasize a couple of simple points that might help you with your goals and aspirations.

To begin with, don’t change — modify. You’re already perfect, so why try to change. Besides, you shouldn’t screw with Mother Nature. Consider yourselves as "the chosen." Let’s try on a sample session experience.

Lets say you auditioned and you won. They picked you because you have the perfect attitude, temperament, approach, and perhaps even hat size. To make things even better when you show up at the session you discover that the producer even dresses the same way you do. It appears that this will be the perfect gig. But after you do the first take exactly the way you did it at the audition, the producer says, “I’d like you to be a touch more forceful on the next take.”

This is the end of the sample session. Stop now. Go no further.

You have no choice, as a must for every audition, session, and even when you’re alone at work practicing your craft. The producer did not ask you to change who you really are. He asked you to modify your approach. We’re talking about behavior modification. Not changing who you are as a person.

You know and understand your “signature.” You’ve got it down cold. That’s not to say that as time goes by an actor’s signature won’t vary. Life has a way of doing that to all of us. What we’re saying is that an actor should make his performance corrections by a modification process within the structure of his individual truth.

When you work out at home, make it a point to modify the direction you’re attempting. In other words don’t read the same script the same way thirty times in a row; exactly, exactly, exactly. Modify the script as a whole and modify your transitions. An attitude change on a single word or phrase can often make the difference that the producer is looking for.

Make your goals with regards to working out a procedure that requires you to modify scripts as you rehearse them. Try on for size the "getting ready" process. Know that you will be the one they will call to come out and save the day. Never be satisfied with what you have accomplished as an actor. It’s always yesterday’s news.

If you treat your acting goals as a passion and not as your work, the modification that is necessary for your success will be within reach.

A Penny For Your Thoughts

Remembering back a few years ago, when I started on my journey into never-never land, kind of makes me cringe today.

Without the foggiest notion of what acting was truly about and armed in my own personal cape of blissful ignorance, it was high gear all the way, until the money ran out. What I was fortunate enough to have had was a series of teachers with the magic ability to convey a message here or there that managed to make it through my extremely thick cranium.

Each of us has our own special button that is often difficult to uncover, especially at a young age, and even more difficult when the button is part of the male makeup.

There’s an old saying, “a penny for your thoughts.” When I was a young guy that was a common question. I can remember being out on a blind date and having that question asked of me. I happen to be a person who doesn’t have any qualms about sharing what might be going on in my head. In this particular instance it wasn’t a good idea or the correct thing to do under the circumstances. Nevertheless, my (still blind) date asked and I said, “This wasn’t a good idea for either of us, was it?”

What followed was my first real experience with a very uncomfortable extended silence and a distinct change of climate. What she did for the balance of the evening is commonly referred to as “the cold shoulder.”

(Fast forward.)

Years later, as I stood alone, stage center with a group of my workshop colleagues seated as the audience before me, I recaptured that “cold shoulder” moment and relived the question: “A penny for your thoughts.”

Our instructor had called upon me to, without words, portray a man experiencing an uncomfortable two minute period of silence, then upon her command, display a completely comfortable presence, while remaining alone, center stage.

I was able to become comfortable by reflecting upon feeling the relief after dropping my blind date off at home at the end of the evening.

It even included what I felt was a very cool thing that happened during my questioning following the two minutes. One of the students asked me what I was thinking about during the comfortable presence moments that brought the hint of a smile to my face.

Our teacher pointed out that often times reflection can stimulate memories that allow for more than one single attitude. It’s kind of like walking and smiling at the same time. That two-fold display of a cultivated attitude drawn from our memory bank opened up one of the most powerful sourcing tools that an actor must be able to call on.

Reflection upon one single moment can stimulate any number of feelings, either sequentially, or in an untold number of bizarre or surreal sequences. All are slices of life. Almost all happenings may easily be referenced from our vast memory bank. All (usually, that is) with one dominant exception. That exception is our own personal memories of physical pain. Nature has provided the human animal with a turn off that enables us to forget severe physical pain. The condition is an automatic one.

(Certainly there are people who can vividly reflect on physical pain, but they are the exception.)

So now the question comes up, what to do when the scene calls for our actor to show suffering being caused by severe mental or physical pain?

At first, our actor may struggle with his or her memory bank. They easily recall the twisted and broken leg suffered during a high school football game, or gymnastics. While they may recall the circumstances, the scene they are playing lacks the genuine truth that he or she was striving to deliver.

Our actor requests the teacher’s help. The teacher responds with, “We’ll discuss it again tomorrow.” Our teacher then hands out the homework assignment. It requires each of us to view the movie, “Brian’s Song.” The next day our teacher asks that same actor to recount the scene he had struggled with the previous day, but this time to think about the travail that occurred for Brian Piccolo when he discovered, as an athlete at the top of his career, that he was sick with an incurable and life-ending illness.

The result was our actor being able to reflect on Brian’s predicament. What came forth was a beautifully truthful slice of life. Our actor had reflected through the eyes of another.

And finally, that leads us to the question of how do we, as actors, develop the skill of being able to reflect through the eyes of another. My answer to that one is contained in my favorite word: Empathy. Understanding, awareness, being sensitive, and feeling and experiencing the thoughts of others without becoming subjective. And while it is my favorite word, it has become my fervent belief that it is also the most important tool an actor has within his arsenal.

Were it possible to make all the luck in the world happen for each of you, as opposed to it being merely a sincere salutation, then I would choose to say to all of you, “All the luck in your world. The world you have been able to choose and genuinely embrace for yourself!”

Blog Anniversary

Hey, happy anniversary, da harv. This blog is number forty-five. In just one short year I’ve had the audacity of taking up the amount of time is required for you to read sixty-six thousand and five of my written words. One could say what makes this fact tolerable is that my writing is similar to the ingestion of small quantities of poison. In small doses, a person may build up immunity. Since my average blog boils down to approximately fifteen hundred words per dose, I guess the fear of expiring while reading what I have to say most likely won’t occur, or be detrimental to your health. However, if you should experience a light-headedness, which lasts for more than four hours, stop reading immediately. But not to worry, it will not have any effect on me continuing to write. You see, since none of you are paying me to write this stuff, and so few of you are willing to admit your reading my work (anyway) I really don’t worry about agree, or disagreement with what I have to say.

And speaking of agreements; I made one with myself many years ago, when I laid down the sword and picked up a pen.

And so, if you’re interested in methodology, carry on.

Every Day (24/7)

Each and every day I view something cut from a new cloth. A new commercial predicated on a futuristic theme of what it will be like five hundred years from now, or maybe tomorrow.
I find myself challenging the presumptions being asserted to by people who are just like myself, no more, but many a great deal less. Now doesn’t that sound contemptuous of me? Sound like? I mean there’s no question about it. While in general, I do get along with people pretty well, the number of those I can’t stand to be with or listening to is growing at a faster rate than I can keep pace with.

(I can’t call it an alarming rate because I have long since discouraged my conscious or subconscious from allowing the norm to be either shocking or alarming. I do however admit to more than occasional surprise over mans indignity towards fellow man.)

It’s getting more and more difficult for me to remain a totally honest man. I will admit to not being politically correct or incorrect for that matter.

(In my humble opinion) Voice over remains the most unbigoted theatrical profession in existence today. Short, tall, fat, skinny, ethnicity, or degree there of, it doesn’t matter. As casting directors, we follow a pattern set forth by the people who hire us. They set out the guidelines of what they are in search of and we attempt to bring in the most skillful actors or actresses we can find. I might add, void of all humility, at Kalmenson & Kalmenson we’re exceptional at what we claim we can accomplish.

It should be noted, the brightest pennies may be found amongst the Los Angeles acting community.

But actors oftentimes find themselves in an unwanted bind. There are topics not to be discussed in open forum. Discussing political preferences is one of the big no-no’s in Hollywood.

But we also find within our community a deep fear. Many actors find themselves watching what they say around certain people. What some refer to as "political correctness" is an impossibility for me to live with. I am not a restricted man. By that, I mean I follow my heart. I am a professional director. That’s what I do for a living. I am paid to tell and give people my professional opinion. Regardless of their preferences or what God endowed them with. I get a script, we call in the actors, and they read for me. As an example, tomorrow we will be bringing in Portuguese men to read for a deodorant commercial, which will run in Brazil. If the Hollywood Reporter says Harvey Kalmenson was telling a group of Portuguese guys what to do in a rather strident fashion, well then so be it. Who cares if I was politically correct? I don’t! I resent that portion of Hollywood folks who think because they have supposedly arrived at some form of pinnacle in their careers, they're allowed to restrict the livelihood of others! These folks should reexamine their stance; their pinnacle may be a precipice. Backing who you feel will be the best political candidate seeking office will have absolutely nothing to do with whether or not you are called in to audition at Kalmenson & Kalmenson.

Almost without exception, every actor finds himself or herself in search of the magic, which will propel their destiny to the stars.

To Make It:
◊ You must be able to read well.
◊ You must be an accomplished actor or actress.
◊ You must be flexible enough to cope with the whims of the industry.

Leave your political bent at the doorstep!

An observant reader may have noticed I made no reference to gender, age, race, or creed. I will admit I am guilty of having spent a little more time with some of the drop dead beautiful women who have come in to audition for me. But they too arrive in all races and creeds and, by the way, good looks will not hamper ones career at Kalmenson & Kalmenson; not whilst I still breathe unassisted.


"If you'd like to thank a veteran, vote!" - hk

Books Are My Friends

Books are my friends, my true friends. They give, and give, and continue to give.

When I only want to concern myself with my needs, and wants, and joys, and perhaps even fantasies or dreams, books are there just for me; selfish da harv. My books are old and new. They are my stewards. These are the friends offering help and guidance when I so often seem to need it. I have long since given up newspapers, except on Sundays when they provide more of a local atlas than anything else. Newspapers just can’t provide me with the same trustworthiness I get from my books. Newspapers pile up and make a mess. Books never look messy. Good books are left out for people to enjoy. I would never think of lining a birdcage with one of my books.

Books cater selfishly to what I need to have them cater to. Wow! It’s all about me. That isn’t to say there is a predetermined mindset. Certainly I know what I like to read, but that doesn’t mean at a very young age I knew or even understood the psychology behind what I was up to. I would describe myself as a freewheeler. I mean, much of what I read as a kid, was determined by what I could afford or get my hands on. My older sister, six years my senior, was a veracious reader. Don’t get the idea I ever wanted to be like my older sister. The truth is I wanted to be better at anything and everything she was attempting to be or do. Everything, that is, with the exception of school. My sister broke her butt studying. I, on the other hand, rarely showed any interest in schoolbooks, especially in the early grades. I think it stemmed from me hanging out with my Dad so much. Early on, I resented teachers telling me what to do by way of controlled reading assignments.

Between the ages of nine and thirteen; still unaware of the impact books would ultimately have.

In actuality, a pretty strong troika had been put in place for me. Books, radio, and the movies fostered who I was, and definitely influenced what direction I might take in life. Altogether, the three formed as the strongest culprit responsible for feeding the flames of my already vivid imagination.

While I had a vast array of early heroes, none could ever match the exploits of my own special guy, the one and only “Frank Merriwell.”

Frank Merriwell is a fictional character appearing in a series of novels and short stories by Gilbert Patten. Merriwell excelled at football, baseball, basketball, crew and track at Yale while solving mysteries and righting wrongs. He played with great strength and received traumatic blows without injury.

Merriwell originally appeared in a series of magazine stories starting April 18, 1896 ("Frank Merriwell: or, First Days at Fardale") in Tip Top Weekly, continuing through 1912, and later in dime novels and comic books.

The Frank Merriwell comic strip began in 1928, continuing until 1936. Daily strips from 1934 provided illustrations for

the 1937 Big Little Book.

Radio

The Adventures of Frank Merriwell first ran on NBC radio from March 26 to June 22, 1934 as a 15-minute serial airing three times a week at 5:30pm.

After a 12-year gap, the series returned October 5, 1946 as a 30-minute Saturday morning show on NBC, continuing until June 4, 1949.

Film

A film serial entitled The Adventures of Frank Merriwell was created by Universal Studios in 1936.

Note: Radio was an everyday event, seven days a week. The heroes were endless. I listened to their stories on the radio, watched their film exploits in the movies, and read about them in short stories and comic books. And today I find myself recalling the era of my heroes and writing about them.

I don’t remember ever having a library card in my preteen years. My interests moved in indiscernible waves. Suddenly, I was a teenager at the helm. My reading became extremely sports oriented. It was then that I first began to question the veracity of the author’s pen.

I was there for the Jackie Robinson introduction to the Dodgers. I witnessed the variety of reactions, and then wondered if what I saw and heard was as real as I thought it was. It was my wake up call. I abruptly discovered not all writers see things the same. This wasn’t a “Frank Merriwell” short story. This was supposed to be the truth. How could what I experienced first hand myself be so inexplicably different when being described by someone with his or her own agenda. Ah, the naiveté of youth. It was there for me to see and read about. From that moment on, intellectually, my life has never been the same.

From age twenty-one, and for at least the next ten years, this young man's only books were in a non-fiction genre. Specifically, I found myself in a full ten-year cycle of reading nothing but biographies, auto, authorized and unauthorized. It was long before the days of computer research at one's fingertips. A person had to actually read and take notes with regard to their next selection.

Today, while online doing research, it’s an easy task to click on a person's name and see an array of encyclopedic information.

Here’s an example of what I had to do during my formative years. Let's say I was reading the life and times of Stanislavski. In this particular book, the author was dealing with the depiction of a specific time period. I would make note of certain persons mentioned in the book, and then look for biographies of their life and times. What developed for me was a historical conversation between people of the past who ultimately became part of my own life and lifestyle. I can’t recall how I fell into a biographical scheme, but I do remember one of the first was the life of Albert Einstein. What amazed me was how lucky we were as Americans to have the man become a member in good standing in our American way of life. My God, I thought this man was like so many others who were fortunate enough to immigrate to our shores. George Gershwin and Albert Einstein could have been ships passing in the night, or they could have been taken from us by one of this world’s most despotic narcissists, Adolph Hitler.

The books continued. It was commonplace for my wife to return from our Encino library with two shopping bags filled with my reading requests. I was traveling to all corners of the world and learning about my favorite topic: People. I marveled at and was totally conscious of what I was learning. These were the opinions being shared by the very same people who one way or another would be an influence on my life. The people I read about, especially the leaders, had sweeping similarities. Of most pertinence to me at the time (becoming privy to their personal revelations) was what they shared as human beings. Most of these leaders believed in some form of divine power. While many of them had unbelievable confidence in themselves, they nevertheless shared in the belief of a higher power. They never felt above all others in the world. The stories of George Washington refusing the title of king exemplify his nature as one of the greatest leaders of all time. Reading the biographies of his cohorts spells out who George Washington was as a human being. Saying Washington was being tested as few before him had would be as much of an understatement as I could possibly conjure up. Hamilton, Franklin, Adams, Jefferson, John Hancock and Patrick Henry, to name a few; all in testament to another man's greatness as a leader. All of this and so much more in the books I have read as my own form of attesting to man's sanctification.

And then there are the lifestyles of the rich and famous. Long before anyone dreamed of doing a TV show with them as the subject matter, people were writing about these folks at great length. I found myself reading about the silent movie era, and then the really big stars of the silver screen, and then back again to the biographies of Hollywood’s founders; the immigrants who became the movie moguls. Admittedly, these were the stories which titillated and stimulated my vivid imagination. Again, I found myself identifying with the names of big wigs that immigrated to this country just as my family did.

Without exception, someone of immigrant stock founded every major movie studio. What amused me the most was their courage or what some would call unequalled “chutzpah.”

chutzpah |_ho_tsp_; _ kh o_tsp_; -spä| (also chutzpa or hutzpah or hutzpa)

Shameless audacity; impudence.

ORIGIN late 19th cent.: Yiddish, from Aramaic

"Truth is stranger than fiction" goes right along with another fact of life in the early days of Hollywood: Truth is also a great deal funnier as well. The biographies of these immigrant movie moguls bore a marvelous resemblance to one another. Besides the Goldwyns, and the Cohens, and Louie B. Mayer’s they’re also existed a parade of unknown soldiers responsible for the unbelievable transformation of California and, in many respects, the character of the United States. The exploits of these stalwart new Americans became legends to be shared with the world by way of millions upon millions of words printed in every language known to man.

◊◊◊

It was of great interest to me that one of the first portrayals of a character in a movie serial was that of my earliest favorite, the one and only “Frank Merriwell.” The story was picked up by a B-movie producer from a comic book being read by one of his kids. These serial depictions were usually shown as Saturday morning fare for the hordes of children who treated the outing as a religious ritualistic social event (this was, of course, before we had the ability to text). If you’re interested, the cost of a double feature and a short, as they were called, was ten cents. One dime got a kid almost a full day of entertainment.

One episode I loved the most involved Frank Merriwell rescuing a damsel in distress. While out running in a local forest, Frank catches sight of this rather voluptuous, scantily clad young woman fifty yards from shore in a canoe without a paddle. Of course the canoe is racing its way towards a waterfall. The kids can be heard all over the theater questioning each other in extremely emotional terms, “What’s Frank going to do?” I mean, we were all seriously concerned for the girl’s welfare. Not to worry. Frank quickly looks around and finds this long piece of rope along side the path he’s on. Frank ascertains he will need about fifty yards of rope: “That’s half the distance of a football field,” he says loud enough for all to hear. Frank ties one end of the rope to his trusty football; he never goes anywhere without it. And then, with the preciseness of the best punter in the history of the game, kicks the ball fifty yards in the air, landing perfectly in the canoe. The girl takes hold of the ball and Frank heroically pulls her to shore. She thanks him profusely as he jogs off without so much as asking for her phone number. Many of us guys in the audience discussed his antics when we were alone in the schoolyard. Us guys agreed we would have treated the end of the adventure a little differently than Frank Merriwell did (if you get my drift).

Frank Merriwell’s name, according to the writer, meant honest, happy, and healthy.

"If you'd like to thank a veteran, vote!" - hk