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?

I’ve Been a Cheerleader My Entire Life

My God…I’ve been a cheerleader my entire life. That statement isn’t an attempt or a continuance of a hopeless endeavor at me gaining praise. I just do what I do because I do it. But there are times; as a matter of fact there have been a few times when I find myself asking “What the hells wrong with you Harv? Give it up…leave it alone already.” One of those times occurred not more than a week ago.

A (not yet) star with an attitude walks briskly from the set of a film many would die for. (Isn’t that a stupid statement? I mean if one dies, they can’t actually play the part anyway.) Today, my situation is quite a bit different from his. I can’t remove myself from the project I’ve been hired to direct because I’m the designated entertainment committee. I’m the one charged with the responsibility to keep things going; to cheer the ingrates on to new and loftier heights than even the wildest supposition of their self imposed entitlement might demand or require. Fortunately for me, in general not too much bad attitude finds it’s way into our world of voice over. Most of the veterans who make it; those who are able to exist on what they earn as a voice over artist; rarely if ever put on a pout face. The newbies, those who make it into me for the very first time to audition, usually have been forewarned about the dos and don’ts practiced and expected by us at the Kalmenson & Kalmenson ranch. What it all boils down to is nothing more than common courtesy. Just as I don’t appreciate an actor with bad manners, I try to set an example for my own Kalmenson teammates. A hectic day isn’t an acceptable excuse for being rude. And rude is the word, which covers a wide variety of poor taste. Hectic comes with the territory. Hectic is our accepted parameter of our life in voice casting. Ignoring the needs of the people sending us the casting assignments would be tantamount to running our business with the snail-like dispatch of derangement necessary for those seeking an end to their business world. Without a doubt we are guilty of catering to those who are helping to place bread on our table. Likewise, without actors, we don’t have a business. These two salient points demand an unequaled display of social grace by all concerned parties. By this I mean, the actors coming in to audition for us, and we the people who endeavor to keep the clients we have in a constant state of the "happy camper" mode. In other words, we need whom we have, and we know whom we need. To ignore either side would spell ultimate disaster.

The Ignorish People

The little known or publicized country of “Ignoria” has a reputation for boasting about how his or her people and leaders pay little or no attention at all to anyone, including their own “Ignorian” citizenry. Hence, the new and revised Kalmenson dictionary of refined letters has coined the word: ignorish;one who pays absolutely no attention to anyone or anything of a productive vain; as in, it was a non productive vain and or attempt.

Another common use of the word ignorish would be: Most politicians are ignorish.

Actors as a special breed must never be, or become ignorish. Ignorish actors usually suffer banishment.

A Writer Writes About

On a day in May...

A writer writes
Where he’s been
Where he is

Where he’s going

All while void of coherence
Forgetting his past
Unsure of his present
Fearful of his future

Then as the success bell tolls

He’s congratulated

He relates stories of his past

Enjoys his present

And sells many books predicting everyone’s future

Still, perhaps not his own

Then on a day, as yet not fully lived

Sanguineness somehow prevails

And only to himself he reveals:

“Never have I been more touched by life than today.

For special reasons which will forever be unclaimed,

Yet so deeply felt.

Understanding, perhaps not a possibility.

Reasons for what transpires don’t find themselves getting in the way of the most unimaginable emotions beyond previously experienced recall.”

A message saying one's breath is far more important than its description. This is the moment for the writing to stop. This becomes a new time to capture new meanings, for quiet to resound within.

A writer listens intently though without prescription,

And just maybe an American pioneer was heard to say:

"Begin now!

Start the rest of your life

With this first day,

And each day thereafter

Serving as the canvas for your own

Personal masterpiece.

Each day is your audition for the next!"

hk

1859 As A Philosophical Abstraction, Or Maybe Not.

A Tale of Two Cities (1859) is a novel by Charles Dickens.

Excerpt:

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only."

The man wrote in an era when much of what God had beseeched was still in a "to be determined" process. His A Tale Of Two Cities was to be ultimately dubbed a masterpiece -- in my humble opinion, not the least bit an overstatement. The two cities were London and Paris. They were, at the time, a mixture of the extreme haves and have-nots: Those who never worked because of their life’s station, and those who didn’t work because work wasn’t available. They were the rich and the poor with inactivity as their sole mate.

Was it the past of which Charles Dickens scribed what he saw, or was he gazing into our future, here in 2011?

The words of the past, mainly those expressed in a form of complaint, seem to always resemble today’s most common disorders. There were those who dwelled high up on a hill, while the rest hunted for a place to sleep, and a crumb or two in order to keep their inner fires burning. Nothing has changed regarding our subsistence needs. Lets face it. It’s what all human beings have in common: We need to eat.
Grilled Cheese

Around 4,000 years ago, people started to breed animals and process their milk. That's when cheese was born. It was most likely a strong reason for the first politicians to get elected.

Villager #1: "Elect me as your mayor and each of you will have a goat to milk.”
Villager #2: "Elect me as your mayor, and I’ll send a serf to milk your goat for you.”
Villager #3: "Elect me as your mayor and I will deliver a jar of milk to your abode each and every day of the year, free.”

Well, if you’re interested in the outcome of that very early mayoral race, I’ve taken it upon myself to do a little research. Villager #3 was a big time winner. In those days, the counting up of votes didn’t take very long because most of the villagers were functional illiterates. They voted by physical acclamation. The three candidates would stand in front of the gathered villagers in the town circle. At the precise signal (I was unable to determine what signal was used), the villagers moved directly behind the candidate of their choice. It wasn’t really a difficult process because at the time of this election, less than one hundred people inhabited the village. All worked out well until directly following the mayoral inauguration. In short order, the people began to complain about not receiving delivery of their free milk. Some unforeseen problems which were not allowed for began to pop up directly following the election campaign promises.

Word of mouth had spread the news from township to township. Come and get the free milk, even if you’re not a citizen of our village. Bring you’re family and friends. The only good thing to come from all of this was it didn’t affect their village school system. They had no schools. The mayor made many speeches telling the villagers how things were improving. But more and more of them were unable to earn any money to give the mayor in order for him to supply enough free milk to make the cheese. Most of the villagers found it far too expensive to buy their own goat. Soon the people began to leave what had become a large community in favor of finding a different village to live and work in. The mayor served one term, and is now a very successful goat handler.

Way back when, not that very long ago, in these United States of America, the most famous sandwich of all time would have to be the grilled cheese, or up until that point in time, depending on who was the reporter writing the food column, and what were his or her leanings, politically. Some would ask, "What sort of abstract baloney are you spewing now? What could cheese have to do with anything politically?" To them I would answer, "Just everything, you dolt."

(If you consider the foregoing as being in the abstract, then it would never be my wish to visit an art gallery as your companion.)

The facts have been with us for centuries. If you make it, bake it, milk it, grow it, farm it, raise it, sell it, or live in the vicinity where any of the former transpire, it will be now, or ultimately a short time in the future, a political boondoggle (a scheme, which wastes time and money).

But for a short moment, long before governments knew anything about taking large quantities of oil from the ground, the healthy business of extracting oil from the fat of whales thrived, that is, thrived for those countries which could boast a strong maritime fleet. Many of you won’t recognize the name “kerosene.” It was the main product for lighting one's home - lamp oil - that and, of course, the development of natural gas.

Ancient societies were known to be using the oil, which managed to seep up from the ground in many parts of the world, since prehistoric times.

Petroleum became a major industry following the oil discovery at Oil Creek Pennsylvania in 1859.

Please take note: A Tale of Two Cities (1859) is a novel by Charles Dickens.

Do you think I’m being a little too abstract? Not for me, I’m very happy with it, and myself. You see, I take the greatness of this country of ours very personally. Think about it for a minute. Oil has been around since prehistoric times. In 1859, the United States of America was an infant state. We were just then beginning to bind the wounds suffered by every American during the Civil War.

Charles Dickens might have named his book “A Tale Of All Countries.” It may have begun in 1859, but by the late eighteen hundreds, the United States was producing more oil than any other country in the world - 83% of which took care of our own needs. Our capitalistic society was almost in full bloom. What followed were all the necessary ingredients for brewing the greatest success story in the history of the world. At the time we had a total of 31,(443,321 M) - thirty one million, four hundred forty three thousand, three hundred and twenty one of us Americans preparing to serve grilled cheese sandwiches to the rest of the world.

320,000,000 later

I hated grilled cheese sandwiches when I was a kid. They lacked gusto. I remember some kids bringing American cheese sandwiches to school for lunch. I never traded with them. I was so pleased to find out later in life, the infamous American cheese was processed, and those in the know were quick to point out the drawback of eating processed food. Those infidels were not only eating processed cheese, but were in the process of shortening their lives by doing so. Yet, to my deep chagrin, just yesterday I was made aware of the fact, processed cheese in some countries was considered a deterrent to contraction of scurvy while sailing around the world. I’m going to hold off believing the credibility of this report, as it was filed by an Afghanistan wire service. My operatives were unable to check out their reliability do to a shortage of electric power service in their area of the fifth world. It does however sound suspicious, since Afghanistan keeps no admiralty records. The United States continues to fund the Afghani Navy in expectation of them one day having one. Credit must be given to our general accounting bureau as they have formally discontinued any shipments of grilled cheese sandwiches earmarked for shipment to Afghanistan.

And speaking of Afghanistan; where were they back when Dickens so vigorously went to the quill? If you said: “They were being occupied by a foreign country,” your answer would be correct. Dependant on what one reads, it appears since 500 BC, all kinds of folks have been trying to take hold of them. My point is, we aren’t the first to enter with thoughts of calming the searing heat, freezer chest winters, and mountainous terrain of this cruel societal location; land locked, desperate, and without structure.

And just maybe an American pioneer was heard to say:
Begin now!
Start the rest of your life
With this first day,
And each day they’re after
Serving as the canvas for your own
Personal masterpiece.
Each day is your audition for the next!

(A Primer On) Compiling “Ten Thousand Hours Of Experience”

Theater Shows Film

Just prior to this monumental period of my life, I had merely dabbled in the world of show biz. My ex-wife’s opinion of what I was doing represented far more than dabbling. A couple of years before, she had asked me pointedly if I didn’t think I was getting a little too old to be an intern. Her question followed directly after she found out Hitchcock didn’t pay interns. As a matter of fact, the man didn’t even speak to us (I do believe the woman was beginning to tire of my antics). Come to think of it, my ex-wife was wrong. It was a great time to intern, be alive, and make the most dominate decision of my life: To follow my heart.

Ten thousand hours of storage begins at birth for all of us. I refer to what enters our brains as storage because, not being a medical man, it’s the easiest way for me to remember what many refer to as "our own personal think tank." Is it a mental or physical attribute? We’re usually equipped with both. Storage begins for most at or around two years of age.

All things being equal, regardless of the time period, I had not yet arrived as "da harv," but neither had Walmart. That same year, 1962, Sam Walton opened the First Wal-Mart discount store in Bentonville, Arkansas. All Sam did was become the biggest and most successful retailer in the world. He didn’t begin at the top, and he wasn’t the first to open a store. At the time, the J.C.Penney Company had seventeen hundred stores, and Sears Roebuck & Company boasted seven hundred fifty department stores. Then there were others, like Macy’s, the May Co. and many, many more.

There are those who argue it was much easier to make it back in the old days. I think not. Sears Roebuck began in 1886, and the first J.C.Penney store opened under a different name in 1902.

Today, about fifty years later, some new giants have arisen: Home Depot, Kinko’s, Costco, and of course, the most famous of them all, “SpongeBob.” Few were given any likelihood of having success.

Let’s face it, how many of you would have invested money in a Starbucks coffee shop? I mean… give me a break. They’d have about as much chance of making it as a talking square pants sponge named Bob.

Cost Of Living 1962:
Year-end close of Dow Jones industrial average: 652.
Average cost of a new house: $12,500.00.
Average income per year: $5,556.00.
Average monthly rent: $110.00 per month.
Tuition to Harvard University: $1,520.00.
Average cost of a new car: $3,125.00.
Eggs per dozen: 32 cents.
Gas per gallon: 28 cents.

Folk music was evolving into protest music thanks to young artists like Bob Dylan, and the birth of surfing music by The Beach Boys grew in popularity. Meanwhile, in England, the Beatles were recording the single "Love Me Do." The new hit on TV for that year was "The Beverly Hillbillies," and the first of the James Bond movies, "Dr. No," was an instant success. Some of the other movies released included "Spartacus" and "El Cid."

Alternatives:
In Beverly Hills, on little Santa Monica Blvd., there existed one little theatre group seemingly on every corner. These groups began forming in the forties. Just about every character actor you might think of at one time or another took part in some form of little theater. Most came from locations all over the country, seeking to make it on what we knew as the silver screen.

It was also the era of big time radio broadcasts. During the daytime hours, the soaps prevailed. In the early and late afternoons, all the kid shows came on. The history of film and radio go hand in hand.

New York’s Off Broadway and Off Off Broadway was a respite for most of the actors before coming to Los Angeles (they thought), attempting to break into films. As they arrived, they encountered what actors had been experiencing since time and memoriam: Competition.

It was an absolute certainty: Without radio and little theatre, actors in general found few venues for practicing their craft, let alone making a buck.

On January 1, 1962, NBC broadcast the first coast-to-coast color television presentation of the Rose Bowl football game. Walter Cronkite replaced Douglas Edwards as the anchor for the CBS Evening News. He lasted nineteen years.

But most importantly, 1962 was the official kick off for da harv. I do believe that comes to a total of forty-nine years. Let’s see now… if we count it up, forty-nine years would be 2,548 weeks, and at fifty hours per week it comes to a total of one hundred and twenty seven thousand, four hundred hours of me practicing my craft.

The last nineteen plus years have been devoted entirely to the field of voice over.

I chose 1962 because much of my official academic world schooling had come to an end. Truth be told, and that’s what I’m doing at this moment. My theatrical training began with the subliminal exposure I began experiencing as a child. Anything vaguely resembling a group of people (two or more, sometimes even one) became my audience. They didn’t know it. They were sent to me by a divine power in order to have their way of life improved upon. They all needed me - even those who attempted to push me away. It was all to no avail. Even the Army, in a much earlier time period of my life, recognized I was the guy put on earth to tell people what to do, whether they liked it or not.

I doubt if there are many who may claim fame or accomplishment without fording an endless stream, or taking less than ten thousand hours of their life’s dedication. Admittedly, any thoughts of hours of study were not an occurrence of mine as I embezzled the first moments as they came to me. There were no explanations, because no one close to me was prepared to understand a person toiling without monetary rewards, either gained or offered. In the beginning, I cherished the smallest plaudits more than any man should.

Seeing my name printed on a playbill for the first time was an unequalled event. Stepping forward to begin a show produced by me brought my heartbeat to a crescendo I knew could be heard by those in the back of the house. Sharing the pain with a troupe of my players about to strike a set, the next day reborn and hopeful over an unexpected gig to direct a dream cast. The radio programs, the industrial shows, the films, the commercials, and the thousands upon thousands of actors I have had the pleasure of directing, are all in a special place within my now incomprehensible number of hours at work practicing my craft. But at the very top of my list, and what I would deem as the most rewarding adventure of my lifetime is an easy one for me to choose: It is as an educator where my most treasured plaudits lie.

What I didn’t know then, I do know now. It began during the first twenty-nine years of my life. The physiological brilliance of my father. When he asked if I would give him a hand with something was by far the most important life shaping moment of my young existence. He knew his kid well. I was bursting at the seams to show him my talents as a helper. I don’t remember what he had asked me to help with. It doesn’t matter. The thought of being paid to help someone with whatever they were up to never occurred to me. At eight years of age, I guess I was feeling like a pretty big, big shot. We lived directly across from the schoolyard, so I never ran out of kids to help.

There was this one kid in particular who became a fan of mine. He was a poor soul who was a real klutz. He constantly showed up in the school playground with his shoes untied. When I called it to his attention, he told me how his mother yelled at him for not being able to tie his own shoelaces. I kind of felt sorry for him. I learned how to tie my shoelaces by watching my dad do his own. I told the kid I would tie his shoelaces for him every day until he learned to do it for himself. It turned out to be one of my simpler feats to accomplish. Each day before he was called to return home, we both untied our shoelaces and then as I retied mine, he merely mimicked my every move. By the end of the week, he was functioning on his own. But something else happened: The kid no longer came across as the playground schlep. (Schlep: A person who drags his or her feet in an ungainly fashion would be referred to as a shlep; German origin)

Nothing has changed. A teacher is a helper. A person who is always joining in for a free ride is known as a shlepper. Schleppers rarely make it in acting - a profession where a free ride is almost nonexistent.

Saying "try it this way" to an actor, and then seeing the proverbial light go on is an amazing feeling. Nowadays, many of the actors I run into aren’t wearing shoes that need lacing, so I have resigned myself to helping them improve their acting skills. What I ask our students to do is continually practice their craft. The question comes up quite often. How long do I think it will take for them to make it? There will never be an exact answer for any question with as subjective a nature to it.

I remember seeing Tiger Woods as a child of no more than six years of age come on the Mike Douglas show along with his Dad. He put on a demonstration of his ability to hit a golf ball. Well, by the time Tiger had his ten thousand hours compiled, most golfers were just beginning to play the game.

Questions only you can answer:

1. When did you begin?

2. How much do you work (number of hours) at it each day?

3. Are there things in the way?

4. How badly do you want it?

5. Are you financially able to hold out for an indefinite period?

6. What must you do to avoid being average?

Within my hours of practice, I have experienced many of the lifestyle encumbrances which would keep the average guy from making it in our voice over world. The most important word in the previous sentence would be “average.” Average is a term which, when applied as a description of an actor, translates to “unable to support himself or a family."

For the answers to all of the above questions, please take a time out, and with not another soul around to disturb your process, answer the six questions presented above. I was honest with you. What I recommend is you be brutally honest with yourself.

da harv’s answers up:

1.When did you begin? Around age eight.

2. How much do you work (number of hours) at it each day? I usually hit it for about ten hours, six days each week.

3. Are there things in the way? Only I get in the way of me!

4. How badly do you want it? To be able to say, "I have helped more actors to win than any other man in history!"

5. Are you financially able to hold out for an indefinite period? I have been for the last twenty-five years.

6. What must you do to avoid being average? Continually seek out my goal to live and make each day of my working life a masterpiece.

Baruch Spinoza (November 24, 1632 – February 21, 1677) was a Jewish, Dutch philosopher. He said:

“Fame has also this great drawback, that if we pursue it, we must direct our lives so as to please the fancy of men.”

It Comes with the Territory

“Lead, follow, or get out of the way."
- Thomas Paine, 1776

“It comes with the territory.” We’ve all heard the phrase many times from people - some good, some bad. In any event, when a person delivers the line, “It comes with the territory,” they usually do so with the intent of showing acceptance of the situation they must deal with. They’re the leaders of the tribe, the bosses, the head coaches, the generals and the teachers, amongst others who manage to take charge, either by their own life’s design, or perhaps an act of God which placed them in the position.

By nature… these are not the whiners of the world. Rarely will a whiner ever find himself or herself at the top of the heap, unless said heap is destined to be only a temporary assignment. Please don’t become confused over the fact the whiners appear to be getting what they’re whining about, what they end up getting is usually the worst of everything.

What follows might make my point:



From the time I was a very young man, I found myself enamored with those effectually labeled “junkyard dogs.”

Again, it was my dad who bore the responsibility of introducing me to the term. It was his belief that if you owned something of value, you’d better have a “Junkyard Dog” to watch over it. To Dad, it meant fighting for it. He pointed this out to me at a Dodgers baseball game, referring to their then manager, Leo "The Lip" Durocher. “That guy will fight like a junkyard dog in order to win."

NOTE: Never consider a “junkyard dog” as a member of a whiner's club. He or she could be a most purposeful and trusted hired hand.

"Junkyard dogs” bite. They never whine. They accept what goes with the territory. While they are not leaders, they are dedicated followers of such.

When a “junkyard dog” accepts his or her position at the top of the heap, he or she is most likely finding one of two scenarios in place. The yard has been constantly victimized by thieves who manage to break in and steal, or all is serene and calm do to the previous guard dog who had an exemplary work ethic.

In our first scenario, the new “junkyard dog” throws himself or herself into the work, not taking the time to blame or whine about the previous dog. During day one, the community, state, city, town, office, or stage, quickly takes heed of the facts. This dog will bite your ass off if you enter his or her home without first gaining permission from whoever the leader happens to be. Never whine around this dog - he or she will ultimately find out the origin of the whine.

In our second scenario, the “junkyard dog” takes over at the top of the heap and finds all is well. The job called for him or her to keep things status quo, and that’s what he or she does. The leader explains to the junkyard dog that in the event he or she begins to lie down on the job, a dog that can follow the leaders dictates will immediately replace him.

The community is welcome to come in and do business, providing they remain cognoscente of the leader's rules.

The leader got what they were paying for, in both scenarios. No whining, no blaming, and no fixing what wasn’t broken to begin with. The community had a clear understanding of how the game was being played, and they continued to go along with the rules as prescribed.

At Kalmenson & Kalmenson, we will always endeavor to keep our junkyard running on an even keel. We will accept the credo: “It comes with the territory.” Although we’re not going to become guilty of prejudging a book by its cover, we will however also not be guilty of disregarding the lessons taught to us by experience.

Don’t you just love these dogs? Which one are you? (Which one would you hire?)

The dogs who bite their owners
Soon will not to be found,
Neither resting, nor waiting to be fed
It’s not their fault,
They whiningly expound
Reluctantly giving way
To other dogs
Waiting in a reception room
For their talents to be found.

Here, succinctly stated, is a Harvey Kalmenson feeling: I truthfully do not enjoy having actors who are whiners come in to audition for us. Extremely low on my favorites list: Actors, non-actors, and want-to-be actors who fall into a whiner category. They are of equally little consequence to the ultimate success of human beings, in general.

A non sequitur for me would be man's inhumanity to man. Being human should have little to do with the infliction of pain administered by one to another. But I guess if we didn’t have some pain to rely on, what would the great Russian playwrights have to write about?

Accordingly, the human characteristic which remains atop our "social dislikes" list: The disdainful posture of reckless indifference. In other words: “Man's inhumanity to man” -- expounded on by the most revered men and women throughout recorded history. Nothing in nature’s realm matches the injustices dealt by man to man. Regardless of our life’s walk (or run), the magnitude of infliction manages to stay with us with never ending divisiveness.

And with each new age reached comes more necessity to count our blessings of good health and all things which, without our control, continue the enhancement of any prosperous living cycle.

While I personally remain duty bound,
To my daily ritual, shamelessly counting my endless blessings, their remains a painful cognizance of all, which is still, left undone.

What were the plays and novels of times gone by are again being reenacted for a new and younger audience's confusion. The many stories of life’s distortions continues at the whims of the same unknown causes, reviving a testament to the egregious substances which continue
Man’s ability to avoid the moral weakness of inhumanity itself.

Today, the powers that be operate with the advisement: “We’re looking for a younger and new breed of writer.” The younger and new breed enters the arena, putting on a display they deem to be new and fresh. Yet the subject matter remains the same. A man, a woman, a child, a pet, a friend, a neighbor, a stranger in town, a family drinking too much, and one that doesn’t care at all. We have doctors and nurses, guards and prisoners, cops and robbers, and soldiers we call "troops" -- some are leaving, while others are returning home. There’s nothing really new as far as I can see. Seems to me I once read about guys who were just like the soldiers the new and young writers are writing about. My dad told me about them. He said they went to Europe during the First World War. Then the writers talked about guys who looked exactly the same. All that was different, I think, was about twenty years between the two of them.

The news reported a story of a Christian church, bombed by a suicide bomber in Egypt.

There’s really nothing new and fresh about people killing one another. I doubt if the age of the writer could bring back any of the twenty-six parishioners who were attending service.

The real chroniclers of our world’s injustices have been around for centuries. Their work remains new and fresh.

Early on, after reaching the age of fifty, I was taken with (Benedict) Spinoza’s simple appraisal of life:
“God is love, we're all parts of God, that love is the most important thing we have in the world, the most successful thing.
For whoever loves their fellow man will never know the pain of death."

I doubt if I ever thought about my own death until I reached age fifty. Maybe it was because my attained age was coupled with a variety of what I thought God had no business sending my way. Like the theatre, acting, producing, writing, listening, telling tales, accepting the applause with the unmeasured humility of a needy man. After all, how could a person who is busily accepting what life has lured him into be anything other than caught up in how he was being screwed and tattooed at the same time?

“Did you hear them clap? What an audience!"

“The man is going to read my script tomorrow!”

“People die for screen credits like yours!”

Then, at the end of another long and emotional trip, a relationship ends, and a new one begins.

(Mortality falls into a separate category of all the things totally out of our control.)

Things out of our control should not be contended with. What gives me the right to say that to you? No right and every right are mine to say it. Your's is the right to listen while not paying attention, not to listen at all, or to say, "Maybe during his extra few years on this planet, he is less encumbered with burdens brought on by a naivety not shared by any other industry than those of the arts."

“Our Arts Intend To Mend”

Our creativity brings with it a joyous recklessness, bearing no ill will, and stimulating our brainless desire for what stays staged, mostly for the other guy.

Again and again, if you feel the discomfort of the variety of slings and arrows on the narrowness of the road we chose, you might find some comfort by saying out loud: “It was my choice to go for it." And though it may still remain a distinctive "I don't know what the hell I want" in many of our artist’s lives, it is enduringly ours.

I wasn’t forced into it. What happened can be simply explained. I awoke one day, or I thought I was awake, and if not, perhaps it was a dreamlike experience. I found myself in this strange, rather large junkyard. Somehow, I was the one who escaped danger by making a long and arduous climb to the top of a heap in the center of it all. There were hordes of people trying to get into the yard. Each time they surged forward, I was somehow able to get them to stay back by threatening to turn my dog loose on them. In truth, I had no dog.

It was coming to the end of a very long day, or was it a year or two? A respite of a few years, perhaps a decade or more disappeared. I awakened and found myself in the same junkyard. Much of the equipment around me performed the same chores, but each machine was different. It seemed like nothing was happening. I heard no sounds of whirring or churning. All I saw were symbols and numbers and waves of light forming lines moving across a huge screen. There remained those same hordes of people trying to enter my yard. An attractive lady, all made up, and carrying a microphone, magically made her way to me. Some light went on as a man signaled her with thumbs up as he moved in with a TV camera. The interview began.

SHE: How long have you been at this?
ME: I’ve been climbing for thirty-five years.

And on the interview went. The praise and idolization was overpowering. She would ask a question and I was in disbelief over why she was even there speaking to me.

And then it mercifully came to its end. I was back asleep and dreaming of tomorrow when some fifty close friends were visiting and entertaining me with antics that could only be found in my kind of junkyard. I was the entertainment committee. One of them was to win a grand prize. The very best interpretation of a talking toilet seat would be the recipient and owner of a great deal of money. The shame of it all was that there could be only one winner. The rest would leave my yard in the hope I might invite them back to try for a prize on another day.

And as they shuffled out, still all smiles as they left the yard, a single spokesman for them was heard to say:

“It comes with the territory.”

(And it also goes with the territory.)

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?"

A Word To and For the Wise

A word to and for the wise.

Or, in the event you’re one of those extreme cases of being an over indulgent, self aggrandizer; living life with a singular lust for ones own selfish betterment, please disregard the word “wise,” which I’ve selected as the title alliteration for this blog.

Contrary to what you may think the word "wise" connotes, the facts of life prove, without question, from day one of our existence on this planet, even the most self-assured, self-serving, and self-reliant people we happen to think we are, still owe some degree of our success to some individual other than ourselves.

In other words… I took the long way around to get to my point .

Saying, “I made it on my own,” is bull----, .

If it were possible to be totally on your own, who would be there to hire you? Who would be there to applaud? Who would be there to hand you a Kleenex? And, if you continue to read on, where would you be without the benefit of someone like Harvey Kalmenson to express glee, satisfaction, or complete disillusionment over your display of social grace - or lack of it?

Okay, okay. What brought this on? You might be curious. I usually don’t waste my time in a display of angst over having been exposed to an individual who brings to the party nothing more than a richly cultivated superiority complex. I am duty-bound to share this incident, in order to help provide a guide of what an actor should not do, say, or put on display, especially when the recipients being shown this lack of graciousness, happen to be in the position of providing work for you.

“Don’t even think about biting the hand that feeds you.”

Endear yourself, or at least make an attempt at faking it. Certainly, this isn’t just for actors. Most parents at least attempt to instill a variety of good social grace attitudes within their children. There are some parents whom, for whatever the reason, fail. The individual who was the stimulus for this blog, undoubtedly was brought up under the poorest of parental environments.

Instead of me going into all the things our culprit was guilty of, I’d prefer to offer a few tips that might be of some help to your future as an actor.

(13) TIPS FOR THE TAKER

* Treat everyone you meet as a possible work source. ”Today’s receptionist, tomorrow's boss.”
* Learn how to remain quiet. You’ll hear more if you’re not talking.
* Make sure your questions are pertinent.
* Never tell a teacher that you already knew the points he or she was making. Say the points being made stimulated your memory, and now you’re able to make good use of a technique you had forgotten about.
* Visibly show as much attention to your teacher or coach as you possibly can.
* Avoid yawning.
* Avoid giving your opinion unless it is requested.
* Never criticize another actor’s skills or the quality of his or her voice.
* Don’t be guilty of rigidly predetermining the direction if you are aware the director will be there to give you notes. Marking up your script in advance of the actual direction can prove to be disastrous during an actual session or audition (once something gets in your head, it’s hard to remove).
* Always thank your teacher, coach, or director for the notes they gave you, regardless of whether or not you made use of them.
* Show interest in each of your classmates. Networking is the single most important factor in order to have a chance at succeeding.

As an aside, some of my most important professional assignments came as a direct result of a student contact. Years ago, it was a fellow student that got me an acting job as a last minute plug-in for an actor who was unable to make it to the set. And that job was responsible for me becoming a member of The Screen Actors Guild.

* Always cheer for a teammate. Don’t spend time commenting or trying to figure out how a competitor got a job you both read for. (It’s wasted energy. You will never get into the head of the producer who hired him or her.)
* Please don’t be or become a know-it-all. Voice over will remain a subjective (art) form. Being in the business for a long period of time doesn’t allow for anyone to remotely know all the answers.

Associates have heard me moan, “What the hell do I know?” I say those words quite often. Do I make an educated guess from time to time? Yes I do. Usually, it’s because a staff member asks me to guess who I thought the ad agency picked. In the event you’re a curious soul, I’ll end your wait. I rarely pick out who the winner is on any of our auditions. It’s not that I have fewer skills than the next guy, but the truth is once again summed up with the word "subjectivity."

The Four Friends

They all so loved to get together and share experiences. The goal was to set up a marvelous networking system that would ultimately benefit the four of them. Each week they would meet to discuss all that occurred in their careers. As time passed t became obvious to the four companions; only one of them was making any headway in the acting community.

In one of these meetings, the three non-accomplishers decided they would pin the successful participant down, and make him share his secrets. So forcefully he was questioned about his methods.

He began, "Wherever I go, I listen to people talk, I watch people walk, I try to feel like they feel, and I breathe in their presence. I sometimes shake my head in agreement and often shrug in disbelief. When I ask a question, it’s always about them; things that are going right or wrong, like a job promotion or a job loss. I pay special attention when they speak of their families and friends; you know, like, relationships. All the people I meet are just the same as you three, except when we get together, the conversations are always the same. You’re always talking about careers, and how you don’t seem to be winning. I don’t have to listen as closely to the three of you, because you only show interest in one subject: Yourselves.”

If you’re not in-the-know, meaning you lack experience, your knee-jerk reaction might be a commentary about the harshness of the winner’s appraisal of his three friends' lack of interest in anyone but themselves. But, on the other hand, if you have any degree of classical training, you would undoubtedly applaud the winning actors supposition, for even as he expressed his feelings, he did so with total truth. And as the three friends offered their objections to what he had to say, our winner was intent in gathering up their display of emotions. What the three of them were now offering our winner was what successful actors must ultimately decree: Total truth.

“But if it be a sin to covet honor, I am the most offending soul alive.”
SHAKESPEARE: Henry V

Shared Passion

The teachers who do it, those who are filled to the brim with the most valiant substance God has given us - they are the truest of teachers. They are the ones who, by nature, teach with a display from inside out. They are the teachers being recognized for there unselfishly “Shared Passion.”

I doubt if most students ever do an analysis of why they like a certain teacher. Sure, they allow how much this one or that one really rocks, but more times than not, the assertion of how much a teacher rocks, or doesn’t rock for that matter, falls far short of the true scope of what the most favorable of teachers brings to the party.

One of the world's most renowned mentors believed, and I quote:

“Profound responsibilities come with teaching and coaching. You can do so much good – or harm. That’s why I believe that next to parenting, teaching and coaching are the two most important professions in the world.”
- John Wooden, UCLA

End quote.

Few teachers ever experience being idolized by anyone. Community recognition seldom compares to the scope or magnitude of the individual teacher's accomplishments.

During school time, it’s the student’s report card that shows the significance of the teacher’s efforts. That same report card never displays the written credit: “Student Taught By.”

John Wooden received his proper credits during a lifetime of continued and unequalled successes. To date I have read each and everything written and subsequently published by John Wooden. Admittedly, at the outset, it was because I was a UCLA basketball fan. As time wore on, and my profession as an educator began to reveal itself, noticeable similarities between the “Wooden” doctrines, and those of the people I am privileged to refer to as my mentors became apparent. During his esteemed lifetime, John Wooden was a leader in the truest sense of the word. One of his favorite claims was, “I lead by example.” Wooden felt it took about twenty years in order to fully ascertain whether or not his students had really prospered from his teachings.

If I were able to personally compile all I have gleaned from my "who's who" list of mentors, one phrase would ring clear as the most common factor describing them: Personification of self truth’s.

The actor, the basketball coach, the teacher, all those who share a professional banner, without discrimination, lead by example and sign on free of deceptiveness; accepting the rigors of being an educator with dedication and courage.

And during a coach’s seminar, Wooden had a favorite quote:

“No written word, no spoken plea can teach our youth what they should be. Nor all the books on all the shelves, it’s what teachers are themselves.”
- Anonymous

End quote.

A yesterday, or many yesterdays ago, a young actor, or perhaps it was an actress, came to me, spieling with a single-minded explicitness. But when they took my hand, it was not a story I heard. It was a "thank you" for the winning report card they’d just received. Allowing for what some called a "hook for words" I had given them, on a page they studied and read.

Each and every day, we teachers are privy to an uncommon exhilaration: We are treated to the wonderment of learning. Without doubt, it is our assignment to educate. Specifically, we are attempting to provide for the professional success of those who come to us as patrons. And though we strive to give out an optimum of information, we never-the-less find ourselves, as actors, coming away with an increased understanding, of our craft and the human condition each and every day we remain as teachers.

A person who has difficulty in extending a helping hand should never be given a teaching assignment. John Wooden referred to it as each day painting a masterpiece. I share his belief.

“Hello. My name is Harvey Kalmenson. I teach voice over. I am and will remain an educator.”

Learning to Learn

"In the groove" is a common statement often heard from a wide variety of professional athletes. They speak of how the game around them has slowed down, and how they are seeing the ball or the entire field more clearly than ever before.

A golfer remarks about how comfortable he or she feels while addressing the ball. The same golfer finds himself or herself on a streak when everything he or she attempts to do works out perfectly.

Then there’s the basketball player who describes the basket as appearing twice the normal size. Every shot he throws up goes in. The guy announcing the game says how the player appears to be "in a zone."

All the old-timers agree, when skill and experience are coupled with an exceptional work ethic, one day the unusual slowdown will occur. The batter will see the ball better, the golfer becomes relaxed and comfortable, our basketball player sinks a three pointer to win the game.

***

It was probably around age fifty. A time when things in general began to slow down, appearing to all those within my spectrum, as if I was a guy who might know what he was doing. Without knowing or feeling a transition, the ten-thousand hours of toiling away at my craft were beginning to take a firm hold.

Was it others or I? Inside, the same drums continued to beat out a rhythm as background for the same word, “Learn, learn, and learn.” I may have been fifty years of age, but I was in many ways still the little kid tuned in to his dad asking him with religious fervor, “What did you learn today?” The ever-present upper right side of my grammar school report card, visibly tolling out the score of “Could do better.” The report card thing has never left me. I guess it never will.

Exactly when it happened will always remain my unanswered query; one day my personal signature became self-acknowledged. When people around me began to comment about how comfortable I appeared to be.

My life, from it’s earliest stages, was dedicated to the totally agreed upon premise of the greatest philosophers the world has known:

“Wisdom is a blessing only to those prepared to absorb it.”

When learning becomes wisdom, and one's dedication is an absolute and resolute way of life, it then becomes possible for each of us as human beings to experience being in a so-called "zone." When we are questioned and give answers while displaying a demeanor of total confidence.

Most of us, regardless of the field of endeavor we may choose, are striving to become the best we can be. Rarely, however, will a student declare their desire to get into a zone. The subject never comes up, because in life’s earliest stages, comfort zones have not yet been cultivated.

The academic world provides many of our needed tools. But the desire to reach one's goals while playing through the pain of real life experiences can’t be derived from a book. In almost every walk of life, success and endurance go hand-in-hand. A kid graduates at the top of his class, and immediately faces up to the question, "What do I do now?" In the business world, the answer is gaining some experience. And be prepared to start at the bottom.

In our entertainment world, staying in the game, enduring, and continuing an uninterrupted study of one's chosen craft, are all must have parameters for success; yet these same parameters will never guarantee your goals and aspirations will ever be met.

May I dutifully present the following life’s experiences, to hopefully serve as a helping hand to whomever there is out there in need of encouragement?

His and Hers

EXPERIENCE: 10,000 HOURS APPLIED, serving as the catalyst for the two of us to join hands and together begin the process of building:

Kalmenson & Kalmenson: The business of voice casting and education.

Catherine and I agreed:

“If we do not hang together, we shall surely hang separately. I love the man (and woman) that can smile in trouble that can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection. 'Tis the business of little minds to shrink, but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death.”
-Thomas Paine, The American Crisis, No. 1, December 19, 1776

Our company's goals are to always provide for our patrons the ability to share in the wisdom we have both gained during our years of dedication to our craft.

Learning will remain our theme. Cultivating our learning into the wisdom we may pass on to our students and clients will remain the driving force behind the constant passage of integrity behind all we endeavor.

The last eighteen years of business have enabled each of us, Cathy and da harv, some thirty six thousand hours, in order to turn some of what we have learned, into the wisdom we endeavor to pass on.

“Ignorance is a voluntary misfortune.”

“Wisdom will not support ignorance.”

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.

What You Have, and What You Were Given

“Let the artist live, let him be enchanted, disappointed, happy; let him suffer, love, and live through the entire gamut of human emotions, but let him at the same time learn to recreate his life and his emotions into art.”
- Constantine Stanislavski

"Each and every day I will place before you all that I have lived for, lived with, and have learned from, during the ten thousand hours necessary in order for the artist within me to emerge."
- Hk / 2010

I have allowed people to teach me.

And with it far too many questions arise. Is it because of the day and time I live in?

I learn, during the allotted twenty-four hour prescriptions, yet I find myself, creatively without the necessary skills to apply what I have earnestly striven to accomplish.

Why is it for many of us, the more skilled and adept at our craft we become, the less we see ourselves accomplishing all which we have set out as our life’s goals, or aspirations, dreams, and satisfactions?

Wandering through life’s numerous abstractions it causes me to often think about young children who come to our big party with a seemingly apparent learning disorder. Perhaps theirs is a version of mine?

What if we could slow down the twenty-four hour cycle by adding minutes to each hour for them? The new scenario would provide for classrooms with clocks, having faces displaying two extra hours of time.

And what if each of the children had their own button to press, which would set the clock back, giving them an expanded time period?

Do you think there might be a possibility some of those children didn’t have a learning disorder?

A man began by saying to me, “We’re going to practice some learning skills. I’m going to teach you a great way to learn. When you work on how to learn, the rest will come easily.”

He pointed out the power of our God-given senses. It was never a stock statement, like "I want you to pay attention." I would hear things like, “Look at this, Harv." I remember him saying this and simultaneously covering my eyes with his hand. Of course, I responded with the obvious, not being able to see with my eyes covered.

“That’s the point," he said. “Always keep your eyes wide open, and try to see as many things as you can.”

The man had given me a method for learning, along with the precise instructions to go along with it. The process was a simple example (covering my eyes) followed by, “Always keep your eyes wide open, and try to see as many things as you can.”

During the ensuing years, I continually practiced what he had given me. When I was very young, I was under the impression I would be able to see more things if there was a way to open my eyes wider.

As we drove together, I’d be in the back, pressed against a window, using my thumb and index fingers on each hand to hold my eyes open as wide as they would stretch. When I discovered it would cause others who drove passed us to laugh at my birdman appearance, I took it to school with me and enjoyed the laughs it got. When one of my teachers (most of them resented me) witnessed what I was up to, she asked what I thought I was doing. “I’m practicing how to be an observer,” I replied. Most of the kids didn’t have a clue to what I was taking about.

(She has to be long ago dead, so I guess it’s okay to mention her name: Mrs. Kaplan.)

By now you must have guessed, the man responsible for all of this was, of course my dear father.

Mrs. Kaplan figured she had me now, so I was told to explain it to the class, and to come up to the front of the room, by her desk. Mrs. Kaplan was so in to herself, she had little idea of whom she was dealing with. After all, I was the class humorist. I loved that nomenclature (humorist), as opposed to being called the "class clown." I wasn’t the kind of kid who might jump up on to a desk in order to get the students' attention. That, of course, would be clowning. I loved disrupting the class by telling a story I had heard. In my eyes, it's what Will Rogers or Robert Benchley would do.

In any event, there I was, in front of the class, along side Mrs. Kaplan’s desk.

Note: By now it was the fourth grade. I believe I was nine years old. My voice over career had begun. I was about to perform a living narration, explaining what a powerful tool observation was and could ultimately be. My daddy had introduced me to his way to practice when I was entering the first or second grade. It gave me a hefty three to four years of working out under my belt in preparation for this day in front of the class. The stage was mine. Eat your heart out, Mrs. Kaplan.

I asked my fellow students how many of them had a favorite baseball team. All hands went up. Not a tough question for any kids from New York, specifically a Brooklyn(ite) to answer.

I picked out one of the boys, and asked him to name each of the players on his favorite team (it was the Brooklyn Dodgers). He did so easily. Most of the kids who were Dodger fans instantly agreed. Now I asked them to give me the number of each player. They all did so in a snap, including the manager, all the coaches, and the team trainer.

We all agreed how easy a task it was. But then I went on to say, “You were all able to do what I asked, because you’re all observers. You’ve all been practicing by way of doing it over and over again. It’s called observing.” Even crab ass Kaplan liked that one, though she wouldn’t acknowledge I had done anything well.

So far I had only used up about ten minutes of class time. Then I picked out my favorite little girlfriend Miriam (last name deleted in order to protect the innocent). I had her come up and stand by me, with her back to the class. “Now Miriam,” I instructed, “Tell us the name of every one in this class in order of where you remember them sitting.” In nothing flat, Miriam did her thing easily.

* Both the naming of the Dodger team, and the placement of each student was done so by the ability to observe.

* The practice of observation creates the subconscious memorization of just about anything, when the observation itself is more than occasionally adhered to.

* People have been described as poor observers. The underlying factor however, is they are basically lazy.

Think about it. What I have just recalled is in direct alignment with my opening reference to Stanislavski.

“Let the artist live, let him be enchanted, disappointed, happy; let him suffer, love, and live through the entire gamut of human emotions, but let him at the same time learn to recreate his life and his emotions into art.”

And with a well-cultivated ability to observe, will come an automatic stimulation of the senses, our friend Stanislavski so adamantly advises us. They are the most vital of necessities, for every actor who seeks the reliability of substance.

For it is within the substance which we alone can become aware of an innate ability to look into, and dig deeply, searching for inner meanings of the writer's intent. Only then could any actor possibly bring to, and present our audience with the total truth as he perceives it to be. Then, upon one's perceiving it to be true, it will be so.

I became privy one day to a translation of a foreign language newspaper interview of Stanislavski. In it, the young reporter brought to the surface a comparison of an actor's depth capabilities he was not expecting to hear. Most of the time the questions were of a benign nature, never requiring much more than a superficial answer, especially at this particular segment of the Stanislavski career. He was assuredly at the highest point he would ever attain.

It was well into the end of the hour when the reporter asked and received more than expected.

“How does an actor perceive the truth?” he asked.

“He reflects upon it from another era, or near space in his time spent.” More or less, the reporter retorted with how he didn’t get it. Stanislavski replied, "The more one lives, the more they have in their reflective arsenal."

Propriety; impropriety; despair; elation; birth; death; ceremony, and celebration, when all are visually true, the verbal description or portrayal of the incidents may be interpreted as such. The audience will, without exception recognize the truth. They may find the truth disturbing: If they do, perhaps then true theater is an experience they too will one day reflect upon.

The audiences are the gods. Never lie to them.