Then And Now, In The Little Theatre

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Disillusionment, Turned To Realization

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

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

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

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

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

Pet Peeves

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Self-Direction - Part 2

Self-direct as opposed to self-destruct.

As always, the basic rules are so simple sounding. The problem for many actors is the lack of detail and observance of the basic rules.

1. Before studying your audition script, read and understand the directions. If the producer took the trouble to put their directions in writing, it behooves you as the talent to at least attempt to follow them.

2. Now read the script and understand its meaning. I’ve experienced situations first hand where an actor, after studying the script for a prolonged period of time, enters my recording booth and proceeds to tell me how they just can’t figure out what the writer means.

What immediately goes through this director’s mind are the questions of how and why were they even rehearsing something they didn’t understand?

3. Self-directing means telling yourself what to do. Imagine you have a list of directions which are right up your alley. I’m referring to directions, which are part of who you really happen to be as a human being. If your natural bent is city blue collar and the script calls for it, you have it made; supposedly. I say supposedly because you still require more input in order to properly deliver what the producer is asking for. You must ascertain the condition your character is in at the moment of truth; your truth.

I.e., if your blue-collar script allows that you have recently come into a great deal of money (like winning the lottery) and they ask you to portray a rather robust and gregarious person, you are armed with a reason for being in the condition they’re asking for in the given directions.

4. Proximity & Who Are You Talking To, And Why

Okay now Mr. Blue collar, robust, gregarious person; where are you in our scenario. This one is really important.

I.e., are you at a ballgame, and the crowd is pretty noisy?

What if you just put your son to bed, and all is serene? Or you're in your backyard exchanging thoughts with a neighbor?

What I’m reminding you of are the five W’s and an H.

“Who, What, Where, When, Why, and How.”

Almost every script will reveal your answers, in order for you to prepare properly for self-direction.

Whatever the road happens to be, dirt or a paved super highway, it could be your determining factor. Some roads are bumpy, others as smooth as silk. Each will provide direction if you choose to recognize it.

It was just before the audition. The actor stood there on the other side of the glass, facing me. I remember the actor apologetically telling me how he just couldn’t get a handle on what in the name of hell they wanted him to do. He went on to tell me how confused he was, and how he felt like a confused dolt. “You’ve got it now,” I replied without hesitation. His look was priceless. His mouth opened in disbelief as he desperately pointed out his problem with the decision making process. I immediately said to him, “Hold on to that look, and what you’re feeling at this very instant. Just slate your name and do it.” He went through the script and then said, “That was marvelous.” “That was Stanislavski,” I allowed.

The contentious script called for a man of his general age range to be standing in a market in front of an endless line of products, and doing stream of consciousness showing concern over his inability to understand what his wife wanted him to purchase. He nailed it by bringing truth to the present moment at hand. Some might even refer to it as acting. Perceiving and telling your truth to another or to yourself; that’s what Stanislavski labeled it, and that’s what we wholeheartedly teach.

Self Direction - Part 1

Home recording studios no longer represent the rich man's toy. Nor are they just products of the Los Angeles marketplace. The home recording studio has arrived, and continues to grow. Shrinking hardware and software prices have made the home studio economically within reach of the journeyman voice over talent.

Today, more and more voice over actors have home recording studios. For many, what used to be a small clothes closet has become their personal professional studio.

I call these actors “The Pajama Performers.” They don’t have to dress for work. They don’t worry about deodorant, if they need to put gas in the car, or how long it will take them to drive across town to an agent’s office for the audition. All they need concern themselves with is reading the script, analyzing its content and self directing.

The process has built-in pluses and minuses. The pluses are obvious. Saving gasoline dollars by itself is probably a good enough reason to build your own studio. And for those who relish staying at home and mysteriously putting on some extra pounds, that too may be the necessary grist for a self-confined existence.

The problem for many of us is the very distinct inability to self-direct. Some actors absolutely love the sound of their voice. For them, the audition can become an adventure in self-aggrandizement, brought on and stimulated by the sheer love of anything they do.

On the other hand, there are a very large group of people like me, who always feel they can do better. The thought of self-direction actually makes me uncomfortable, especially the prospect of listening back to my own voice and making an honest appraisal. Frankly, I hate doing it. Perhaps I’m overpowered by the genuine importance of each audition.

Without exception, professional journeyman actors who can honestly say they earn a living doing voice over will agree with the importance of being given the opportunity to audition for a job. Never ever use the word “just,” when describing the content of your audition. Only the inexperienced loser may refer to their pending audition as “just another audition.” The word “just” must never creep into your voice over vernacular if you have any intention of sustaining yourself within our trade.

The highest percentage of what you will be attempting in your home recording studio will be the audition.

In my not so humble opinion, beginners shouldn’t contemplate building a home studio unless they are being counseled by an experienced and trustworthy industry professional. Never shop the yellow pages when searching for what could be one of the most important adventures of your life. Word of mouth is the only acceptable input. Anyone can have his or her claims printed. Word of mouth substantiates an individual’s, or a company’s expertise, and reliability.

When it involves your future and your family’s welfare, be with those people who are recommended by the working professionals you might wish to emulate. Don’t hesitate to ask questions. Agents and journeymen actors are the very best source for recommendations.

But if you must self direct, here’s a tip from da harv:

To be continued next edition...

Being Gracious

Not to worry, I have no intention of explaining graciousness. If you don’t know now, you probably won’t ever get it. Like always, some of you are already saying, “What in the name of hell has graciousness got to do with voiceover?”

Well, when it comes to reading for this director, graciousness is what I expect. If you come in to audition or perform for the Kalmensons you are expected to play according to our ground rules. Succinctly stated, being a celebrity or a "wanna be" has nothing to do with our team treating you as anything less than our guest. We’re not going to behave like we’re doing you a favor bringing you in to audition. As a matter of fact, almost all talented and successful actors and actresses practice the Golden Rule. Here are three folks you might recognize. All are at the top of their respective games, and all three are really a societal treasure for all of us who’ve had the pleasure of being their working colleagues.


Jane Lynch
Tall, slim, and gracious. Always early, she comes in, finds the script she will be reading, and quietly complies with whatever may be asked of her. Working with and for Jane is always a learning experience. She was a star before she became a star. When Jane asks you how you’re feeling, she is interested in the answer.


Sarah Chalke

What a delight!! I’ve only directed her once. But in that one experience we worked as if we had done so dozens of times before. I was fortunate enough to get the assignment to direct Sarah performing the role of narrator on a TV mini-series (Maneater) she was also starring in. Of course she was punctual, and as we exchanged our initial salutations it became an instant comfort zone for each of us. A marvelous actress, doing her best to create a working comfort zone for her director.

The star of a feature film or TV mini-series can usually dictate who will be added to the team. Though this wasn't the case with me, our working relationship made me feel as though I had been Sarah's first choice. Graciousness personified.


Hector Elizondo

Hector is a star that exemplifies what it means to carry yourself as a working actor. As an example of what I’m getting at, I’d like to take you into an acting class being helmed by the noted actor John Houseman, at the University of Southern California. It was John’s practice to oftentimes get in the face of a student when they responded less than professionally to one of his questions.

“What in the world are you attempting?” he asked in a rather demeaning fashion. “I’m taking a Hector Elizondo approach,” the student replied. “You are dreaming,” replied the great Houseman. “Mr. Elizondo is a gracious gentleman. He’s the genuine article who travels and purports himself as just a journeyman actor.”

I was darn near giddy when I found out I was to direct Hector. At our first meeting of many to take place, I instantly discovered what John Houseman was talking about. Here was a living acting icon, asking da harv what I would like him to do.


If you happen to run into Jane, Sarah, or Hector during your acting travels, and they ask you how you’re feeling; they will be listening to your answer...

Closely, or from a distance
Like, love, or disapprove my tone if you will
Be in agreement, or tune out my theories
Be moved into a mirthful state
Dissolve passionless from my efforts to create
Your choice in listening to me be only yours

I well may be a deceiver
Not nurturing any human’s bigoted ways
Not helping, or encouraging to cipher
Who I am, or what regions were the origin of my start

For when you are in my listening mode
I, have found your ear
Perhaps betrayed by what you hear
I am a voice bearing no skin color with my sound
My frame is both short and tall
My gender reflects all
And age becomes ageless as my messages abound
I grow stronger as experience allows
No human being, or will exerted may govern who I become

I am free from those who may choose by my color
I am race less, in all I profess or say
I am a voice actor, among many

The world would be a better place, were they bound to do it my way.
Our Voice Actor by da harv

Theme

Voiceover and life are not on a collision course; as lived by me, they are one and the same.

This Internet Journal is all about sharing what I’ve been experiencing and teaching for the past thirty plus years, as a completely submerged person in the professional world of voiceover. Frankly, it’s a lot of stuff. Some of my thoughts and observations will be subjective. For certain voiceover is, and will remain a subjective art form. (I’ve never had anyone disagree with calling it that.)

If you seek to grab a miracle by the mere reading of my scribed assertions, I’ll do my best not to get in your way. Read on friend.

What I intend offering you will be the practical and the academic knowledge I’ve gained during my fortuitous exposure and formal training with many of the masters. Of these teachers, three men stand out as my most prominent mentors.

William Shakespeare, Constantine Stanislavski, and Charles Kalmenson. No bloodline exists between Shakespeare, Stanislavski, and Harvey Kalmenson. Charles Kalmenson was my dad.

(I’m not aware if anyone has ever dedicated a blog to his or her father, so if I happen to be the first…so be it. And naming it in honor of my dad will guarantee the highest degree of integrity this guy could possibly muster!)
My journal, its content, and who da harv has become, and attempts to share with you, was mostly instigated by my father's constant teachings. His credo was integrity, excellence and going all out to be the best professional he could be. But his biggest asset without compromise was the practice of being a socially acceptable human being. “Remember, when you enter another man's home, you're entering another man's home,” he would say to the very young man who stayed close, you might even say glued, to his side.

***

Note: (I hate the word blog. To me it sounds disfigured) I might refer to a person I didn’t care for as a blog.)

And so my Internet Journal begins. “Observations and tips, all wrapped up in one.”

It was my plan not to be a namedropper in this journal. My plan isn’t going to work out (bragging) the fact is… I’ve probably worked with more notables than most (end of bragging, for now). So I guess I’ll drop a few names right away.

The tens of thousands of actors I have directed during the course of the last thirty years, have given and provided me with an insurmountable wealth of practical information, without which I would never have been able to attain my own personal dreams.


Gary Owens

“One attribute that is an absolute must for every voiceover talent on this planet is: In voiceover the actor must be able to read well!”

Wow, you must be thinking. What a simplistic and pedestrian thing for da harv to pass on as an important tip. You’d be surprised. As casting directors we bring actors in to try them out, and those who show a lack of reading skills are never called back to audition. Our computer database contains signature files on every actor who has auditioned with us during the course of the last seventeen years. Just about every attribute the actor puts on display is so noted. For sure you wouldn’t want us to make a note saying you have trouble with scripts which run over ten seconds. Or you can’t maintain or hold a direction for an entire script.

I can remember asking Gary Owens how he became such a marvelous reader. His first response was in the so-called pedestrian category. “Practice,” Gary responded. I wasn’t satisfied with his answer, so I delved deeper. When I asked Gary at what age he discovered he was a great reader, he told me he was so young he couldn’t really say. He said each and every day he would read the newspapers out loud to his mother, father and anyone else within earshot. Just think…Gary began practicing his craft and hasn’t ever stopped.

“You know da harv,” Gary said in his own unbelievable style, “you must always keep the chops tuned and ready”!

I think everyone would agree with Gary Owens. His work ethic is what was responsible for his star on Hollywood Blvd.

An actor like any other professional must practice his or her craft constantly! Agreeing and doing, or applying ones self are two different things. Those who don’t work at their trade never really have a chance to score in the big leagues. Successful voiceover actors must be technically proficient if they ever have hopes of becoming creatively outstanding.

The audition is your work, and the actual job is merely a fun occasion you’re being paid to enjoy. If you aren’t an outstanding reader, your chances of winning a job from an audition are slim at best.

The skilled reader isn’t caught up with making apologies for dropping words. His allotted time in the recording booth during the audition is devoted to creativity, and not to going back over and over until a clean read is attained.


Buddy Hackett
He traveled the world, mostly making people laugh. But few out there realized what an extremely bright guy Buddy was. He had the ability to be in the present and to see to it you were there with him. He was a professional joy to work with and learn from.

Because Buddy had a God given, totally character sound, many people over looked the fact; there was a serious actor behind the delivery. Whether he was telling a comedic story, or portraying an odd and funny little man in a film, he managed to convey a here and now delivery. He was in the present. Buddy delivered with a one-on-one approach. Even when he was not in sight, when he spoke you felt he was looking you right between the eyes.

When he delivered a scripted line, his delivery was lifted from the page. The actor on the receiving side always felt Buddy was talking to him one on one. His key to success was telling the other guy the truth, like it or not, drama or comedy.

If you’re a storyteller, it’s a good idea to know whom the story is being related to. If you send... you must have a receiver. Good senders and receivers have a great deal in common; both are accomplished listeners.

And speaking of unbelievable listeners...


Orson Welles

I doubt if anyone in our business had more written about his voice over performances or his attitude during sessions than Mr. Orson Welles. The out takes of his outrageous tirades are known from sea to shinning sea.

I’m not going to attest to how much of what people say about Orson is factual. Most people judge him by a couple of short sound bytes.

My personal and professional contact with the man was an accident that happened. I happened to be in the right place at the right time. The scheduled director either became ill, or was fired. It was a last minute thing. Harvey Kalmenson (not yet known as da harv) became the designated hitter. You can imagine (or maybe you can’t) what ran through my mind when I found out I was to direct a man who was considered by most industry people as the greatest voice of all time.

One of the older engineers warned how Orson was going to chew me up and spit me out. That never happened.

Lets start at the end of the session. All went well. It was then, and remains to this day one of the high points of my career as a director. Everything you’ve ever heard about the Orson Welles deportment during a recording session did not apply to my day with the great one. I introduced myself to the man. We didn’t shake hands. He nodded, without saying a word. It was this huge icon filling the studio doorway, a man in black. Orson, by then had a great deal of trouble physically moving from one point to another. I effortlessly cleared the way for him to enter the control area. I had prepared a large swivel stool for him, both in the control area and in the booth where he would be recording.

Don’t get the idea we became buddies. The trained stage manager in me had taken over. He was there to act and my job was to facilitate. I wasn’t the least bit nervous. While I didn’t have a great deal of time to prepare, it was of no consequence. Everything I did and said pertained to the actor and doing whatever possible in order for him to function in a totally creative environment. It was merely a couple of hours as part of one single day in my life, which would manage to resonate and change me as a professional director.

The radio commercial we were to record had to do with a dessert menu for a very well known restaurant. Orson’s assignment was to read thirty seconds of desserts one after another. The music bed was classical, with violins as the dominant instrumentation.

I handed out the scripts and he said "Thank you." It was the first live Orson Welles utterance. Inwardly I thought I might have a seizure. To this day, I have never heard a sound come from a human being, which could fill a room the way his did. His next statement came as his eyes looked up. “Hmmm, larger type face. Nice,” he said to me.

Orson studied the script for a moment, then looked up, and asked to no one in particular, “What’s the bed like?” I answered his question, short, sweet, and to a meaningful point. I gave the name of the musical piece, and a description of the orchestration, and asked if he would prefer to listen to the music before or after he did his first run-through. I caught sight of his slight grin at one corner of his mouth. He looked up and very pleasantly asked me for my thoughts. The engineer and producer were about to faint. I explained how I had reviewed the music and was happy to find the piece they had chosen didn’t have a bridge. This would be a snap to put behind or under anything Orson chose to do. We decided he would do a recorded read through, and then listen back for places where he might like to hesitate.

What happened next has become the backbone for every commercial I have ever directed, without exception. It was when Orson took a moment to re-examine the script. My face showed a degree of curiosity. “I’m looking for the definitive word,” he said. “It appears there are none,” he said and went back to the script. “What about an anticipatory sound,” I asked? “You mean you would like a fat man to salivate.” I nodded my head. Orson Welles read and breathed and read and hummed as each of those desserts were set up and became definitive. All I had to do was step back and admire my work. Sure there were some additional suggestions about when the music should come up and in. But the day had come to an end. All the man did was help to change my life. His breathing, his hesitation, and his ability to find a definitive word were a tribute to his unequaled talent.

As a director and as an educator I have used the Orson Welles gift every day of my working life.

Next on our agenda... "The social graces as used in voiceover."