Features

by Peggy Names and Jennifer Winslow

You might ask, “Why does a professional Sound Department need a Utility Sound Technician, anyway?” By the end of this article, written by two longtime Boom/Utility Techs, you will be wondering how any sound crew could function without!

The Utility Sound position is hard to define because it has so many facets. The job requires immeasurable amounts of knowledge and a LOT of multitasking. It is both technical and physical. Being able to think on your feet is not only important, but can save the day. We are always problem solving, which helps prevent those dreaded words, “Waiting on Sound!” Although we are often invisible, you can bet we are working hard to keep production flowing.

The history of the job goes back to the early days of “talkies” when yards of sync cables were needed between sound and camera. Today, with innovations in technology, the job has morphed and the title has evolved. We once were called “Cableman” or “Cableperson” and “Second Boom Operator”; now we are called “Utility” which is short for Utility Sound Technician. We are one and the same; we are the third person on the sound crew.

Basically, as a Utility Sound Technician, you have to know how to boom, guard precious equipment from harm, manage distribution of audio, be an expert with wireless microphones and transmitters, know how to do playback, move heavy equipment from one place to another (endlessly), know how to fill the Mixer’s chair when nature calls, think like a detective to find unwanted noises, “play well” with others to achieve cooperation, be aware and alert at all times, blend like a chameleon to your Mixer and Boom Operator’s style, know when to speak and when to be quiet, have great organizational skills, know basic electronics, know how to interact with the talent and that’s just the tip of the iceberg … whew!

Jennifer: As a Utility Sound Technician, I have a lot of detail work. On an average shooting day, Utility handles things like checking and changing batteries in all equipment, setting up the carts, running cables, powering up the Mixer’s equipment, setting up the boom poles, and many other tasks. We put Foot Foam and Silent Steps on noisy heels of principal and background actors. We lay rugs on floors to catch footfalls and tape them down so no one trips. I have a tape roll on the follow cart, or sometimes on my belt, which is especially handy if I’m booming. When I work as an A2 on multi-camera shows, the duties are similar, but we rely on different equipment with their own particular challenges.

We have a unique awareness of our environment on stage and on location. While our Boom Operator is working out moves and cues, and the Mixer is getting the mix just right, we may be stealthily moving around the set seeking and destroying all unwanted noises. Having a refined sense of hearing helps to identify and choose the best method to squelch the sound source. When something goes wrong, e.g., radio transmitters need to be tuned to a new frequency or the recording device freezes, that’s our cue to act. There are times we must run to the truck (an organized truck is a must), find a piece of equipment and get it to set quickly so the problem is fixed as soon as possible.

At any moment, we may have to drop what we are doing, and focus our attention on another, higher priority. We call it “putting out fires” on the set. The ability to refocus is a must-have skill. Knowing how to prioritize these split-second decisions comes with experience. Our eyes may not be on the set at all times, but we are tuned in to every little noise, our ears working overtime. We are always looking and listening, anticipating and planning for the problems the next setup might present.

Jennifer: Early in my career, I worked with Mixer Bob Wald. He was very organized and professional. He had a “cheat sheet” printed out for his Utility that outlined the Utility Tech’s duties. I found it very helpful to have a written reference, especially while working long hours. Our department counts on us to remember many things like: jamming the slates and Lockit box with timecode every four hours, keeping fresh batteries in transmitters, running the bell and light cable on stage and managing noisy electric appliances on location. Many of us use additional reminders for location work, especially with refrigerators. While the Locations Department is ultimately responsible for restoring order at the end of the shoot day, it’s good discipline for each department to leave things as they found them. To be sure we restore settings, some Utility Techs put Post-it reminder notes on their follow cart, while others place their car keys in the refrigerator. I put bright camera tape on my iPhone with FRIDGE written on it, as a reminder to make sure the units are on when we leave a location.

We watch and listen for door slams on dialog, clomping footfalls, plates that rattle, chairs that squeak, lights and ballasts that hum, props and special effects that hiss, boom and bang. Dealing with all these noises requires cooperation from other departments. Many an ADR session has been spared by working with the Grip Department to quiet the moves of the camera dolly and with the Location Coordinator to chase down a leaf blower.

Peggy: One of the more sticky situations involves the “herd of elephants” that accompany the Steadicam … Me: “Would you mind taking your shoes off or wearing booties?” Camera Operator: “You want me to WHAT!?!” Then imagine the delicacy required to ask the Costume Department to change the pantyhose of the actress because the swishing noise of her legs rubbing together on each step is drowning out the dialog! Okay, I have to admit that the diplomacy required for this was above my pay grade! When Mixer Bill Kaplan gave the Director the bad news, he threw up his arms and said, “You want me to tell the actress that her thighs are too noisy!?!” True story!

Sometimes second booming can be more challenging than first. We are often called in on take two when it becomes evident that the blocking or overlaps require more than one microphone. What this means for us is that we drop everything, run in with our boom gear, get clued in on our assignment, find a place to operate and boom our asses off with no rehearsal! We must pay attention properly so that being called to duty will not be a surprise.Second boom work is increasingly in demand as it is now commonplace to play the overlaps (when actors speak at the same time) and mic off-camera dialog for ease in editing, allowing the Director more creative choices in performance. Booming isn’t easy, and knowing when to use a ladder, stand on an apple box, climb up into the greenbeds (on stage) to boom is extremely important. Boom operating can be nervewracking at first: your arms shake a lot in the beginning, you don’t want to be the one to screw up the take, you don’t know where to place your body or the pole, camera moves freak you out, actors can be unpredictable, but eventually you build new muscles, learn lens sizes, develop a good rapport with the camera crew and Dolly Grip, drop the fear and it becomes second nature—and fun! Booming requires knowledge of the camera movement, the size of the frame, lighting, blocking of the actors and dialog cues. Obstacles can be thrown in your path at the last moment so you have to be flexible. Booming is such an important skill to learn well. There is so much more to booming, but that is another article in itself.

Jennifer: I have worked on many shows with Mixer Mark McNabb. He always makes sure (in his deal with the UPM) that his Utility is hired on at boom rate, because of the heavy second booming. I worked on Family Affair with Mark and Boom Operator Raul Bruce, where I second boomed every day. One time I was booming a big scene with actor Tim Curry. My kids were young (they were like little petri dishes of germs), and I had a cough left over from a cold. I tried to suppress my cough during a take but couldn’t, so I timed it out and then coughed on Tim’s off-camera dialog. I was blue (and red) in the face! The minute the camera cut, Tim walked over and, with a smile, gave me a cough drop from his pocket. He told me he grew up as a preacher’s son. He had to sit in the front row of church with his mother every Sunday. If he ever coughed during his father’s sermon, it was extremely embarrassing and, to him, it was worse than death! He was so empathetic and kind. Even though my kids are healthy teenagers now, I carry cough drops in my kit, because you never know when someone else on set may be struggling to stifle a cough during the take!

Playback has become much easier since the days of the Nagra and the pinch wheel. Digital playback has many advantages: now playback can be performed on a laptop and the cues are much tighter. We are skilled at running playback should an unexpected need arise or the use is minimal, like playing music to set the mood in a scene. Being proficient at playback makes you a more valuable member of the sound team because you are available to perform this work on a moment’s notice, especially on distant location. For these small units of playback it is often easier to have someone close to the project run the playback and call in another Utility Sound Tech to fill your shoes. If the playback is of paramount importance, like lip-syncing actors to a piece of prerecorded music, or a song and- dance number, then we call in the big guns! Along with big guns comes big equipment. The Utility Tech is assigned to help with the placement of the playback speakers and run a multitude of cables. This sometimes requires a lot of schlepping and grunt work. Always ask for help if speakers need to be hoisted to the greenbeds. Promise the grips they can play their music through them at lunchtime and you will get all kinds of cooperation.

Peggy: I have done more than my fair share of digital playback beginning in 1997. The late Mixer, David Ronne, introduced me to a whole new world of possibilities. Together, we created our own click tracks using the clave (rhythm instrument) as the guide with an accent on the second beat for the dancers and shifted the thump track to compensate for distance from the speakers to the dancers. We jumped from one part of the song to another on tempo, all on-the-fly. Latin music can be especially challenging because the rhythm is fluid. When I play back dialog, I have to think like the actor would so that the timing of the delivery is spot-on.

The improved quality of wireless microphone technology has mostly done away with the yards and yards of sound cable that were regularly laid out. It is still good to know how to use the XLR cables, just in case the RFs crap out (yes, that’s a technical term!). When, where and how to lay the cable can be critical for safety, avoidance of interference from electrical cables and dimmers, and flexibility when things change on set and you have to reroute equipment. Coiling cables is an art. “Over, under, over, under” is like a mantra to many of us. You do not want to fight with a hundred-foot XLR, wrapped the wrong way, trust us! Many hours have been spent untangling and cleaning mud and gunk off the cables. We are happy that we are no longer called a Cableperson!

Peggy: Working with Mixer Ron Judkins and Boom Operator Bob Jackson on Minority Report, we had to run cables three stages away with communication both ways and that was just one crazy situation on that movie. With Mixer Bill Kaplan on Crimson Tide, we had a snake running to a pulley hanging from the top of the stage to the set which was on a gimbal twenty feet off the floor. From there, we had a break-out to eight cables. I had to climb all over the top of the submarine set like a monkey and poke the wires in holes to Boom Operator Earl Sampson, who then set the plant microphones. The metal structure of that set was screwing up our radio transmitters and the obstacles prevented most booming. Mixers Edward Tise and Kirk Francis are the boldest Mixers out there, flying with no net. They carry not one cable on the cart. Times are changing.

Electronics can be very finicky and, if not given the proper care, are unpredictable. Wireless booms and radio microphones can act up and wreak havoc at any given moment. Utility Technicians are in charge of making sure the equipment does not have bugs so the sound is clean and causes no delays. Capturing the sound is hard enough without those headaches! If a plant microphone is in a bush or other exposed position, we make sure no one accidentally kicks it, stomps on it or sprays it with water. When supplies are getting low, we order more. God help us if we run out of AA batteries.

We make sure that everyone who needs to hear the soundtrack has a way to do so. This could be anything from a remote speaker in a car or Dimmer Operator’s room, to an earwig in the actor’s ear. The biggest chore occurs daily when trying to wrangle twenty or more receivers (Comteks) and headsets used by the Director, Script Supervisor, Producers and Writers on set. When guests drop by from time to time, we provide Comteks for them to listen as well. We are often asked for Comteks at the last minute, for example, when the Camera Operator needs to take a cue from dialog. We keep close track of headsets and hope the equipment will be returned to us at the end of the scene or day. It is our responsibility to ensure these devices are operating properly and some of us take it hard if batteries fail or Comteks go missing. We are continuously surprised at some of the strange places we’ve found Comteks at wrap!

Radio microphone use has expanded in the new age of digital filmmaking. With requests from Editorial to deliver all the actors’ voices on individual tracks, compounded by the actors overlapping, and multiple cameras moving and holding different shot sizes, comes the ubiquitous use of radio microphones.

An increasing practice for the Sound Department is to wire everyone and boom what we can. The Boom Operator needs to stay on the set, to work out the shadows, obstacles, dialog cues and moves. We are increasingly asked to wire actors in their trailer, so the Utility Tech goes off to the trailers to wire the actors. Some of us carry a “radio mic kit” with transpore tape, overcovers, moleskin, leg, ankle bands and waistbands, sewing kit (you often don’t get “intel” on what wardrobe they will be wearing), scissors and any other tools that can make the wiring go smoothly. Upon arrival back at the set, we get ready to boom and find that the dolly move has changed and there is a light placed right where the Second Boom was planning to operate. Trusting and relying on your Boom Operator is mandatory, especially when you have to find a new position. Often while we are booming, we must jump into action on the front line, if the lavalier microphone needs adjustment or an actor’s Foot Foam falls off, or if a door needs to be silenced with WD40. Having strong nerves and knowing set etiquette is a must, especially when all eyes are on you as you hurry to correct the problem.

It is not uncommon for more than five actors to show up at the sound cart all at once for wiring. Utility Sound Technicians that can wire like lightning, make it disappear like a magician, with ingenuity, good humor, confidence, grace and outstanding results, are worth their weight in gold. Working closely with the Costume Department to ensure the wardrobe is not damaged and the actor’s comfort is not violated is important, even when the AD is calling for “Picture!” Doing the job the right way the first time prevents mishaps and spoiled takes. We have been told many times that women and children feel more comfortable with a female working under their clothing. This may be one reason why women are drawn to this position and Local 695 has seen an increase in the number of female applicants in recent years.

Jennifer: When I wire a young child, I will ask them if they like spy movies. (They usually do!) I tell them to imagine they are like “Spy Kids,” or a secret agent and then I remind them not to touch the pack or the microphone and blow their cover! It also helps to strike up a conversation so the parents know you are professional and puts them at ease, and it can keep a kid from fidgeting and hitting the lavalier during the take. I have worked with Mixer Sam Hamer on shows where many children needed to be wired. Sam has said he’s impressed at how the kids not only sounded good, but respected the radio microphones and equipment. It’s my secret, but I’m happy to share my tricks.

Peggy: With the fluid nature of filmmaking these days, the Utility Sound position has become much more crucial to getting the job done. On my most recent films with Mixer Petur Hliddal, I was hired on before the consideration of the Boom Operator, specifically for my skill set in the Utility Sound position. It is unusual for this position to take priority but when a movie is heavy on wireless, additional communications, mobility and the unforeseen, then it makes sense. It is a misconception that going wireless should require fewer people. I see the trend of adding a fourth person to the sound crew in the near future … it is a challenge to keep your hands clean to attend to the wires on actors while also laying carpets, throwing hog’s hair under drips, swinging a boom around, applying Foot Foam and running cables. Mixer Simon Hayes regularly has a five-person crew … hmmmm … food for thought.

For the people who think Sound Utility Technicians are a luxury position, that can’t be farther from the truth. Ask anyone who has mixed or boomed shows without a Utility Tech; it is almost impossible to get the same high-quality production track. The sound quality suffers and the production suffers. Utility is indispensable at almost any budget-level project. We save the production plenty of time and money. Productions that know the importance of hiring a Utility Sound Technician are usually five steps ahead and they might even have a headset waiting for them when they come to set!

The bottom line is that the Utility Sound Technician position more than pays for itself. We are proud to have a career doing what we love, with interesting people who are unique, smart and funny. It’s also fun working with actors, traveling to different locations and knowing that our work has helped make the finished product, the soundtrack, sound just that much sweeter.

Glossary

Silent Steps: Small tips made to fit on high heels to quiet them.

Lockit: A timecode clock that can be remotely mounted to equipment. The Lockit is a trade-named product from Ambient but is often used to refer to similar devices from Denecke and others.

Foot Foam: Flat rubber adhesive-backed sheets cut to fit the bottom of shoes.

Comteks: Most commonly used receiver for a listening device.

Transpore: A medical tape frequently used to attach lavalier microphones.

Moleskin: A cotton fabric with a soft pile on one side. The favored brand, Dr. Scholl’s, is available with adhesive on one side making it useful as applied padding for a microphone.

Overcovers and Undercovers: Adhesive windscreens made for lavalier microphones.

Hog’s hair: A woven filter material commonly used in air conditioners. It serves the purpose of dampening the sound of falling water.

Greenbed: Called green because of their color, they are suspended scaffolding for mounting lighting and grip equipment above the set walls, also used for boom microphones in multi-camera shows.

Break-out: The distribution end of a “snake cable.” The snake carries multiple lines in one conduit and the individual signals break-out in a fan at the end.

A2: An Audio Assistant.

by Cabell Smith

I spent my entire working life in an alternate universe. I was terrified every day that someone would find out that I would have paid them for the fun I was having! As a big fat plus, I was there when a paradigm shifted. To be present at change for the better is a very powerful tonic! Weird prelude: as a nine year old, my best friend Susan’s father was an engineer (I clearly remember the pens and pocket protector) at the world-famous Bell Labs. Bell’s engineers invented the transistor, created the laser, the solar cell, and countless other transformative technologies and have won at least a dozen Nobel Prizes. One day in the late 1950s, her dad came home with a portable tape recorder, maybe an Ampex 600?

Susan and I took to this wonder, and immediately recorded our songs and little plays into this amazing device to the long-suffering delight of our parents. Who knew that sound recording would be my life and my delight? I came to the World of SOUND via the independent film community and the Women’s Movement, which were intertwined in New York City in the early 1970s. Women were beginning to produce and direct independent films, and many wanted to work with women technicians, of which, of course, there were none.

In 1970, I was invited to join a womens’ consciousness-raising group. We were seven; with a grant from the New York State Council on the Arts we purchased a Sony Portapak—a revolutionary new portable video camera and video tape recorder. We were going to tape our sessions; we were going to make our own TV! We wrangled through the technology, each of us mastering the camera, sound and editing for programs about women’s health issues, many of which were broadcast on Open Channel, New York’s new public access cable outlet.

In 1972, a cameraman friend’s regular sound tech was not available (always the point of entry, right?) and he asked me if I wanted to learn to do documentary sound. We took the Nagra III and a Sennheiser 805 and went into Central Park. I put on my first pair of Beyer DT 48s and bang! zoom! Truly the earth moved, and reoriented itself, around my head! What a rush of tone and volume and clarity and precision. And, by changing the position of the mike, I could control this new enormous universe. I was hooked.

I began trying to build a resume, and track down jobs that would be paying jobs. Up to now, I was working on friends’ films for free and occasionally working for WNET, the New York PBS station. I went through the Producers-Production Companies section of the New York Motion Picture TV Directory, calling every single company asking for a chance to work for them.

Usually the response was a flat “no.” However, in December of 1971, I got a call from a woman (!) at the Canadian Broadcast Corporation. The American Academy of Sciences was having a symposium in Philadelphia between Christmas and New Year’s, and the CBC needed someone to go and record the talks. I was thrilled to have my first paying job, which meant my first time in a hotel on my own, my introduction to the concept of per diem.

The travel arrangements were especially exciting: arrive at world-renowned cultural anthropologist Margaret Mead’s office in the Museum of Natural History and travel to Philadelphia with Ms. Mead in her limo! I spent a glorious week “tying in” to the soundboard with my rented Nagra III and listening to Margaret Mead, Louis Leakey and Carl Sagan talk about their latest research. It was a very cool beginning!

Around the same time, John Chester, Chief Sound Engineer for Bill Graham’s rock venue Fillmore East, gave a class on basic electronics for women. Ohm’s Law, capacitor, resistance, condenser microphones, proximity effect—now I could define and understand my new universe. Many of my male counterparts came to sound via the music world. They were knowledgeable about electronics and sound. John’s course was a godsend. I could now hold a conversation with another sound person, and understood more than “plug this into that.”

In March of 1973, NBC-TV News hired me as a Sound Technician. NBC, a closed IATSE Local 52 “shop,” was dodging a legal suit regarding hiring of women at the time. All men, solidly union, and I was neither. There was no other woman working in a union shop on a day-to-day basis. A news (film) crew consisted of three people: camera, sound & electric. We captured the story for our producer and the on-camera talent. Being on a news crew in New York City was hugely exciting. My crew was the first on the scene when Philippe Petit walked on a high wire between the towers of the World Trade Center. I was there when Secretariat won the Belmont Stakes to capture the Triple Crown, and hung a microphone on Mickey Mantle for the Old-Timers’ Game.

We went from opening the trunk of a Caddy in the depths of Brooklyn to discover a dead body, to a shootout at the Mosque in Harlem, to trying to set the microphone at the right height for a news conference with both NY mayoral candidates: John Lindsay, 6’ 4”, and Abe Beame, 5’ 2”. We usually covered two stories a day. After filming each story, a dashing Teamster on a motorcycle rushed our sound-striped film back to “30 Rock” for its developing bath—“into the soup”—for “film at eleven!” Between stories we usually had time for a lunch at one of New York’s best restaurants. If our morning story found us in Brooklyn, we headed for Lundy’s in Sheepshead Bay. We prayed to stay in Manhattan on Thursdays for the creamed spinach at the Brittany du Soir. Many of these restaurants, like the technology and leisurely pace of news gathering, have disappeared.

Most guys thought I something of an oddity—why would a woman WANT to do this job? But I don’t remember any nasty incidents. I don’t know what went on behind my back, but I have the feeling that because technical jobs are so easily evaluated by ones’ peers—either you’re doing the job or you’re not—there really wasn’t much of a fuss.

Within a year, NBC was hiring other women technicians, on staff and freelance. I think we were successful because we were not particularly didactic about politics. We were doing our jobs alongside the men. Just being there was political. And politics was all around us. By 1974, NBC and the other networks could wrangle an all-woman crew for countless stories about women in prison, women’s examinations, rape—stories that would have been unheard of, and thus unheard, a few years before.

After about a year on the job, one of my colleagues came up to me and said, “Hey, you know, my sister could do your job.” I remember just smiling … The light bulb had gone off! The opportunity to work and make a decent living doing something you love is truly transformative. I’m grateful it happened for me, and grateful that I was able to facilitate that experience for others.

Assembled and edited by Rosa Costanza Tyabji
All photos courtesy of the respective participants unless specifically credited

Embarking on the creation of this article has allowed me to investigate and to understand better the dynamics involved in being a gender minority in this field. My hope is that this article also lends you greater insight on how far we women have come, and how far we have yet to go.

 In November 2014, I organized a group of Local 695 member-sisters to gather to discuss our shared professional experiences for the purpose of creating this article. It was a sublime yet charged atmosphere, beneficial to all participants. Cabell Smith, one of the first women to join IATSE (Local 52) as a Sound Mixer in 1974, was laughing with new member and Y-1, Eva Rismanforoush, who joined in 2014. There was much networking and camaraderie as we got to know each other.

Prior to the November meeting, I sent requests for stories, quotes and anecdotes of working life to all the active women members in IATSE Local 695. More than thirty people responded to participate in this article.

Chartered in 1930, Local 695 has nearly 2000 members working in the fields of Production Sound Technicians, Television Engineers, Video Assist Technicians and Studio Projectionists. The presence of women working in those fields has been slowly growing since the first woman knocked on the door in the 1960s. In its first fifty-five years, the number of women members grew from none to only eight percent. It is encouraging to see that this year, nearly twenty-five percent of new members are female.

Peggy Names, a member since 1977 and one of the first female Microphone Boom Operators, prepared these statistics with help from Linda Skinner and Nikki Riordan in the office. “Every new production brings new faces,” Peggy mused, “sometimes those faces are surprised to see a woman working in sound, even in the year 2015. We look forward to the day when people stop saying, ‘I’ve never seen a woman sound person before.’”

We found the commonalities we have, yes as women, but also as professionals networked in our organization, Local 695. All members play an important creative role in the production world. Just as utilizing the necessary technology needed by our department for any given project may change, it is understood that the personnel needs may also change with production type and complexity. As an example, women often gain employment as Utility Sound Technicians when a project has women and/or children in the cast, when the personnel needs create that opportunity.

We share a collective gratitude to those who opened the doors of possibility and employment in this technical art, and an appreciation of the tenacity and perseverance they employed in our shared craft.

“We are grateful to our Local for opening its doors so willingly to us,” Names states. “We think we have the best brothers any sister could have. The trailblazers may not have known there were any obstacles before them, but we were tenacious and paved the way for the future generations of women in Local 695.”

Her words are an understatement. In our artistic and scientific field, the backgrounds we bring are diverse, as are the paths we’ve taken to gain experience and employment as technicians. Here are a few stories showing that diversity:

Phyllis Bailey Brooks (joined IATSE in 1981) is a Y-8 Boom Operator primarily using the Fisher for multi-camera TV: “My very first semester at USC studying TV & film, I met a Unit Manager (a recent USC grad) working on Good Times for Tandem Productions. She assisted me in getting a job as a page working on the lot at Metromedia Square on shows like All in the Family, One Day at a Time and The Jeffersons … My first engineering job was as a cable puller on Good Times, but wow, some folks weren’t quite ready for me! A young, black, female with my eyes wide open, but soon those that weren’t keen on the idea in the beginning became my best mentors.”

Michele Wolfe (1980) is one of only four female Projectionists in Local 695. “I worked as a cashier and candy girl at the Sunland Drive-In Theater. I was lucky to meet another union projectionist in 1972 to teach me the trade. At that time, you needed a license to work because of nitrate film. I received my license and became the second woman to join Local 150. I started out in the theater Local and paid my dues by working the porno houses in the valley. So I became a Studio Projectionist. I feel very lucky to be a union member in a great industry that has provided me a good living for forty years.”

Jillian Arnold (2012) is a Y-4 doing data asset management and data capture. She shares: “My first shooting/media managing job was with the RED camera for NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory. We were shooting parachute tests for the Curiosity Mars Rover at one of the world’s largest wind tunnels … I felt very lucky to be working alongside some of the most seasoned and intelligent men in the country. I started out doing media management from camera cards to field hard drives, and now I operate the Pronology ingest control application, an all-encompassing media ingest and management software.”

Rita Rubalcava (1974), a Y-9 Videotape Operator, began her career in the newly inaugurated Engineering Training Program at KCET after being their first female Videotape Librarian. She recalls, “After taking a three-year hiatus for parenting, I rejoined the workforce as a freelance Videotape Operator in 1986 and my first production was Family Ties. After more than forty years, I am still in the workplace and currently working on the Disney show Liv and Maddie and CBS’s Mom.”

Rosa Costanza Tyabji (2007), a Y-1, gained an apprenticeship on the Universal cop drama New York Undercover, arranged through the Institute of Audio Research, where she received her certificate in recording engineering. She apprenticed with the late Bill Daly on the Universal Studios soundstages in NYC. Rosa remembers: “New York Undercover was very popular at the time and it was exciting to shoot on locations all over the city for a show with such strong public support. I helped Bill as a utility person, making BNC cables and soldering connectors on busted wires. Much of the professional work ethic I still carry comes from that experience.

“Apprenticeship programs are so rare these days. We need to bring them back to train the next generation, whether tied to schools or guilds or otherwise.” Rosa has given lectures on location sound for students enrolled in the film/video program at the Orange Coast College.

“No matter where you learn your craft, who you work with, or where you work, we all adapt to the parameters of each style of film, TV program, documentary, commercial, reality show or event for which we provide our services.”

Rosa adds, “Working as a Sound Mixer has gifted me with amazing life experiences: From recording around Zanzibar with a Nagra, on set of a South African MNET TV show in 2000; to following the Dalai Lama and documenting through the Golden Temple in Amritsar, India; spending six weeks on and off of seagoing vessels in Mendocino; or hiking the border of Tennessee carrying a portable kit plus all expendables for a documentary. Each of these productions presented situations demanding immediate assessments and action. I draw from my background the problem-solving tools with which to solve new challenges.”

Emmy winner Gail Carroll-Coe (1996) joined as a Y-8. She cites her ability to anticipate and adjust her responses as a key reason she can meet challenges. “I love challenges and embrace being able to anticipate problems in order to solve them without holding up production and, more importantly, getting the best sound possible. I immediately communicate the information needed as it arises on the set to those concerned: the Mixer, the Director and/or Producers. I try to accomplish this by keeping calm and thinking rationally. One of my favorite sayings is, ‘Panic is not our friend.’ Last year, I did a movie with a director (actor-turned-first-time-director) who told me he was extremely happy I stood my ground when needed and that he loved my negotiating techniques … whew!”

Patrushkha Mierzwa (1983) is a now-retired Y-8. Her love of production as a whole gave her this perspective about her work: “Boom operating is a perfect storm of crafts; it requires knowledge of nearly all the other filmmaking disciplines. Because Boom Operators often work next to the camera, they become the default sound representative on the set, and the one to relay essential information. Sound is one of the few departments that does not directly support the visual (camera), so it is important to help educate our brothers and sisters that our contribution does not take away from that, but imparts a valuable layer for the audience.”

Upgrades and updates, shifts and changes in our electronic toolkits are the norm in our lines of work—something that we all roll with to stay current as we utilize our knowledge in the field. Here are some anecdotes and observations:

Kim McCall (2003) is a Y-4 working in video/24-frame playback, currently at Warner Bros. on new show Blunt Talk. She recalls, “I started my career in an analog world. Going all the way back to using quad, to one-inch tape reels. Editing and shooting on 3/4-inch tape to beta. Then learning the old 24-frame standards conversion and color correcting to playback on set syncing up film cameras using the old CE or Barton box and phasing that old bar out of the modified tube TV … It was a challenge for all of us to switch over to the HD 23.976 world. Always trying to keep up with new technology. Of course, you could write a book on this subject alone.”

Nicole Zwiren (2013), a Y-1, has an MFA in sound design, so her knowledge of audio post informs her work as a Location Sound Recordist. She shares: “Mostly I am a bag Sound Mixer, which requires a lot of stamina, luck, skill and tact. As a Post-Production Sound Mixer, I know how difficult it is to remove background noise, so I make sure that all sources of noise in my control are handled to make for the quietest set possible. I prefer to use wireless lavaliers on actors when I know there will be problems with background noises.”

Lisa Gillespie (2007), a Y-8, agrees with Nicole: “I went to Columbia College in Chicago, where I did location sound. I worked in their sound studio. I was a part-time student and an employee, checking out equipment to students. I mixed films with the Nagra. I also did Foley recording and Post Production. I always have Post Production in mind when I work.”

We are all team players by our natures or we would not gravitate toward this business. We are all also singular in how we do what we do. Meeting each other, creating the open discourse about our work, and having a reliable pool of referrals that we trust are key. Networking works.

Alexis Schafer (2009) went from being a Y-13 Service Sound person to a 7A, Utility Sound. She gained the bulk of her understanding from day-playing with various talented Mixers who started as Utilities. Alexis highlights her ability to make connections: “I have made friends with my fellow 695 members and have gone to numerous BBQs and other events, but some of the most beneficial friendships I’ve made are with individuals in other departments. Understanding how these different departments contribute to the production has become a valuable asset in my ability to get my job done.”

Amanda Beggs (2013) joined as a Y-1 Production Sound Mixer, with encouragement from mentors: “I’ve had the amazing honor of getting to network with the other Mixers I’ve looked up to and tried to emulate since I first realized I wanted to go into this field. Shawn Holden, a Y-1 Mixer, let me accost her at Location Sound one day. I was so thrilled to meet the woman who I absolutely feel is blazing the trail for women like me.”

Jane Fleck (1981) is a Y-4 with multiple qualifications, a Video Engineer/24-Frame Playback/Sitcom Sound Recordist.

Her take is to “network relentlessly, if the networking does not feel right, rethink what you are asking. Doing for others is part of networking; it is always a two-way street. The woman who hired me for my first job in Los Angeles a zillion years ago recommended me for a job in the last five years as well. Stay in contact, say hi when you can, send thank-you notes when someone helps you out.”

We make strides for all women who may be interested in the technical processes of production, the electronic arts, so cooperation together is tremendous. There is a responsibility to be always at your best. This awareness was expressed by all in different ways.

Jillian Arnold describes her view: “As a woman, I am very mindful that I have to be on my game. I believe I need to know all aspects of my craft well. Therefore, I spend quite a bit of time training and studying on my days off. I often feel I can’t afford to make a mistake without it reflecting poorly upon me, and my gender. Some may say I’m too hard on myself, but I think that I have to be as good as the best.”

Cabell Smith, a pioneering female Sound Mixer, reflects on her thirty-plus year career: “A word of advice—if they offer to carry it for you, let them! I retired in 2005 or 2006, after two hip operations and a back operation. So, I am serious. You really don’t have that to prove anymore.”

Lisa Schway (1993) is a Y-7A, part of a unique team that started in Carsey- Werner Productions’ run of classic TV. The team was a standout for having four women on the floor, as a sound department in a multi-camera studio environment. Technicians Azhar Aluqdah (1996) Y-7A, Yasmin Muniz (1990) Y-8 and Phyllis Bailey Brooks completed the crew.

Lisa sets the scene: “In the late eighties, four of us ‘audio girls’ made up the audio floor crew while working on Grace Under Fire. We were comprised of two Boom Operators and two Boom Pushers. The four of us knew at the time what a special bond we had and that we were so fortunate to have such a supportive and positive team.”

Yasmin Muniz, one of the two Y-8 Fisher boom specialists from that same team, had her first TV run in 1983 on Mama’s Family. She is grateful for her career path “… coming from multi-camera, which is the most stable of all the jobs, we have regular hours. Working on features is grueling. Doing anything single camera is grueling. I respect you who do that work immensely. I was fortunate to have started out in sitcoms.”

Phyllis expands the conversation and says, “My quest now is to continue to be a positive image on set, and to mentor as many young women pursuing this work as I can. This opportunity has given me so much and I continue to be eternally grateful.”

We are having a great exchange within our community regarding the expansion of professional skills, sharing tales of different production styles, expanding job opportunities and experiences, keeping the right attitude and swapping stories from set life. Wisdom hard won through adversity has no substitute.

Rosa recalls: “One of the greatest challenges I met was when filming on the ocean, in fishing boats and sailboats and on the beach. All the elements in the environment were stacked against us. First, we modified a sound cart for beach mode by installing bicycle tires and then made two sets of B-unit ‘run and gun’ style harnesses. We got waterproof cellphone cases and made them fit on transmitters. We added extra shrink-wrap to connectors on cables and to antennas. Our maintenance was immediate, with boom poles being disassembled and cleaned daily. Other than a zodiac-type boat being capsized and dumping my Boom Op in the ocean, we came out of the shoot just fine.”

Currently, women make up less than ten percent of the membership of Local 695, though we trust that there will be more women attracted to work in our technical fields of the industry.

We look forward to continuing this conversation and to drawing new voices into the dialog. Some one-liners to wrap up:

Eva: “I keep a positive attitude; nothing is an obstacle, just a challenge in determination.”

Jillian: “For me, being a woman in the tech world is a non-issue. The screensaver on my phone is a Steve Martin line: ‘Be so good, they can’t ignore you.’ I live by these words.”

Rosa: “Location audio recording is a fusion of art and science in the world of film production. I have always felt my work to be a part of the creative process on set, and negotiated potential difficulties using creativity and flexibility.”

Eva says, “Coping under pressure? I never take anything personally. The prime directive is to do your job exceptionally well while keeping a great attitude. Even if that means throwing on a flashlight and a pair of latex gloves to kill an ice machine in a dive bar …”

Amanda: “I love my job so much and can’t see myself doing anything else, so I’m excited to see where my career takes me. I like bringing something new to the table as far as not being what people expect in a Sound Mixer.”

Theresa Radka (2006) Y-1: “When I am told, ‘I’ve never seen a woman do this,’ I get over my shock and my pat answer is: ‘Well, they needed the best person for the job.’”
 

Glossary of Y Classifications

The Y numbers specify particular union work classifications as defined in the contract.
Y-1 – Production Sound Mixer
Y-4 – Supervising Sound or Video Engineer
Y-7A – Utility Sound Technician
Y-8 – Microphone Boom Operator
Y-9 & Y-13 – Sound and Video Service Person

Peggy Names recruited her friend, retired cinematographer Julius Metoyer, to take a picture of as many of the women members of Local 695 as they could assemble in one place. They scouted locations together and settled on Brookside Park in Pasadena for its rugged, terraced look and its accessibility and available parking. With assistance from Linda Skinner and Nikki Riordan in the office, Peggy compiled a list of the 146 women members and invited each of them to participate. The first couple of attempts ran into some conflicts with the Academy Awards, rain and the K-Tek open house. When everything finally clicked, the ranks had thinned a bit but the attendees were a good representation of women active in the various disciplines of the Local.

P-Cap, MoCap and All That Jazz Part 2

by Jim Tanenbaum, CAS

Set Procedure

The capture techs will have an earlier call so they can calibrate the volume. This involves placing a single reflective marker at specified positions so the computer can associate them with the images in the capture cameras. The marker is mounted on a rod, usually the same length as the side of the grid squares. First, the rod is used as a handle to position the marker on the floor at each intersection of every grid line. The system will beep or chirp when it has calibrated that point so the tech can move on to the next one. When the floor grid is calibrated, the other end of the rod is placed at each of the intersections, and held vertically with the reflector at a fixed distance directly above the spot, and the procedure repeated. During the calibration, the volume needs to be kept clear of other crew people.

Reflective objects are verboten in or even near the volume. Any Scotchlite strips on shoes or clothing need to be taped over, and if the anodizing is worn off of the clutch knobs on your fishpole, they will need to be covered with black paper tape. Some poles’ shiny tube sections are a problem too, and black cloth tubular shrouds can be purchased to slip over the entire fishpole. J.L. Fisher has black-anodized booms available to rent for use on capture shoots. If you have work lights on your cart, be sure their light bulbs are not directly visible to any of the capture cameras.

On most shoots, you will have only a single assistant, either to boom or to help with the wireless mikes. This means that the smaller and lighter your package is, the easier it will be to set up, move and wrap.

I make it a habit to run on batteries at all times. This avoids problems with hum from ground loops because you are tied into the studio’s gear through your audio sends, and also the possibility of having your power cord kicked out of the wall outlet. Being a belt-and-braces (suspenders) man, I also use isolation transformers in my audio-out circuits. (See my cable articles in the Spring, Summer and Fall 2012, and the Winter 2013 issues of the 695 Quarterly.)

The usual recording format is mix on Channel 1, boom (if used) iso’d on Channel 2, and wireless mikes (if used) iso’d on succeeding channels. You will send a line-level feed of your mix to the IT department, where it will be distributed to the reference cameras and imported into the editing software. Your isos may also be sent into the system during production.

Metadata may be conventional (Scene 37a, Take 6) or extremely esoteric and complex (195A_tk_00E_002_Z1_pc001_0A01_VC_ Av001_LE). Hopefully, you will be allowed to abbreviate long ones like this—I was able to get away with: Scene 195A_00E_002, and Take 2, but since the last digit of the “scene” number was also the take number, I had to manually advance it every take. Fortunately, the Deva allows me to make corrections retroactively, but it is still a nuisance so I’m very careful when I enter the data initially. Discuss metadata requirements with production as soon as possible.

Digital sound reports are very convenient, but you need to secure your tablet carefully; the cost of replacing a dropped Galaxy or iPad overcomes any amount of convenience.

Comtek monitors can be a problem because of system delays in the video display screens, which are often non-standard and even variable. Many directors will want to see and hear playback during the day. I have found that the simplest solution is to get a feed of your mix back from IT and send that to the Comtek transmitter. They should automatically have the correct delay for both direct and playback. Unfortunately, a number of new, smaller volumes have sprung up, and they sometimes do not have any means to compensate the audio for the video delay. Behringer makes an inexpensive variable-audio-delay unit called the “Shark,” and it is worthwhile to carry two of them along with an XLR switch so you can quickly feed your Comtek with the appropriate delay for direct and playback audio. Your direct mix will go into delay 1, and the mix return from playback will go into delay 2. The XLR switch will be used to select the output of either delay as required to feed your Comtek transmitter.

A problem with sending your mix and isos into the capture system in analog form is that the gain structure of their audio channels may be less than optimal, and more importantly, accidently be changed after you have adjusted it initially. If you can have any control over the infrastructure, try to get a digital audio (SMPTE/ EBU) audio path so you won’t have to worry about this, or hum/ buzz pickup.

It is vitally (and virtually) important to discuss digital audio parameters with the IT department. The most common TC frame rates are 23.98 and 29.97, but 24 and 30 are also encountered, and you must be sure to use the correct one. Although you can use 29.97 with a 23.98 system, and 30 with a 24 system—the rates can be converted without too much trouble—it is much more difficult (and expensive) to use 30 with a 23.98 system, or 29.97 with a 24 system. Usually, you will get a TC feed from the capture system. Ask specifically about the user bits—some systems have fixed random digits that remain unchanged from day to day. If you are working more than one day on the shoot (and remember that sometimes a one-day job runs over and requires a second day), it is important to put the date (or some other incremented number) into the user bits yourself to avoid duplicate TCs.

There are two “standards” in TC circuitry: BNC connectors at 75­ and 3-pin XLRs at approximately 110­. Unfortunately, these parameters are not universal, and to make matters worse, some facilities have built up their own infrastructure and have patch panels with connectors that are fed from equipment with the inappropriate impedance.

Unless long cable runs are involved, this impedance mismatch usually does not cause problems. (See the cable articles for using balun transformers.) The best you can do is to use mike cables with XLR TC sources and 75­ coax cables with BNC TC sources. If this does not match the TC input connector of your recorder, try a simple hard-wired adapter before going to a balun. If the recorder’s display shows a solid indication of the proper frame rate and there are no error flags, you are probably okay. If this is a long-term project, you should have time for a pre-production test, if not, cross your fingers. (Or invest $10,000 in a time-domain reflectometer to measure the jitter in the “eye pattern” and determine the stability of the TC signal at your end.)

When it comes to wireless-mic’ing the capture suits, there is good news and bad news. The good news is that you don’t have to hide the transmitter or mike. The bad news is:

1. There is a tremendous amount of Velcro used on capture suits, and it can make noise when the actor moves. Applying gaffer tape over the offending strip of Velcro will sometimes quiet it. For more obdurate cases, a two-inch-wide strip of adhesive-backed closedcell neoprene foam (aka shoe foam) may prove effective. As a last resort, one or more large safety pins fastened through both sides of the Velcro usually works.

2. Mounting the mike capsule requires some forethought. If no facial capture camera is in use, the top of the helmet opening can be used to mount a short strut to hold the mike in front of the forehead. I use a thin strip of slightly flexible plastic, 1–2 inches in length. If a face-cap camera is used, its mounting strut can be used to secure the mike, but in both cases, be sure to keep the mike positioned behind the vertical plane of the performer’s face to help protect against breath pops. Also, the exposed mike is susceptible to atmospheric wind, or air flow from rapid movement of the actor. I have found that a layer of 100% wool felt makes an excellent windscreen, especially when spaced away from the microphone element about 1/8 inch. (Incidentally, felt can be used to windscreen mikes under clothing as well.)

3. Because the mike is located so close to the actor’s mouth, it is exposed to very high SPLs. Many lavaliers overload acoustically at these levels, so turning down the transmitter’s audio gain doesn’t reduce the distortion. Both Countryman and Sanken make transmitter-powered models designed for higher SPLs, but not quite high enough. The problem is that the mikes require at least 5 volts of bias for these peak levels, and most wireless mike transmitters supply only 3.3 to 4 volts. An inelegant fix is to use one of these mikes with an external, in-line battery power supply, because their extra bulk doesn’t have to be concealed. The other side of this coin is that these high-SPL mikes are noisier at low dialog levels. Be prepared to quickly switch back to the low-SPL mikes between loud and quiet dialog scenes. Another possibility, if you have stereo transmitters (currently only available from Zaxcom), is to employ two different mikes, one for high levels and the other for low, and iso them both.

4. There may be other electronics mounted on the actor’s suit that can interfere with your wireless mikes. If a face-cam is in use, there will be a digital video recorder and timecode source. This may be an onboard TCXO, or a receiver for an external reference. Another possibility is a transmitter to send locally generated TC to the capture system. If real-time face monitoring is present, there will be a video transmitter, either in the WiFi band (2.4 GHz) or on a microwave (above 1 GHz) frequency. If active markers are functioning, they may receive and/or transmit an RF synchronizing signal. The RF from any of these transmitters can get into your wireless either through leakage in the transmitter case or through the lavalier’s capsule housing, cable or plug. Keeping your gear as far from any of these transmitters and their cables is the first line of defense.

5. If motion control apparatus is being used, there may be multiple RF links involved, all at different frequencies. As soon as possible, coordinate frequencies with the appropriate department(s).

6. The reference video cameras, if camcorder types, may have video monitor transmitters. Some of them still use the old analog Modulus units, and they present very serious interference problems.

7. Walkie-talkies usually operate well above or below your wireless frequencies, but at 5 watts they can cause trouble if close to the actor or your sound cart.

8. For general wireless mike problems, see my radio mike article in the Spring 2011 issue of the 695 Quarterly.

When it comes to booming a CGI–capture scene, there is good news and bad news. The good news is that you don’t have to worry about boom shadows. The bad news is:

1. You can’t block the view of the reference cameras. When 12 of them are in use simultaneously, it can be hard to keep track of all of them. But the mike and boom can be visible in the reference camera(s) as long as it isn’t between them and an actor’s face (or key part of the body).

2. There is no such thing as “perspective” in a captured scene, since it can be rendered from a POV at any distance. Every shot needs to be mic’ed as closely as possible. Distance is easily added in Post, especially now that we have DSP (Digital Signal Processing), but cannot be removed.

When it comes to booming a live-action capture scene, there is good news and bad news. The good news (if any) is dependent on various factors. The good/bad news is:

1. It depends on the particular project as to whether the mike and/ or boom can be in frame. For green/blue screen work, a green or blue cloth sleeve is available for the pole, and similarly colored foam windscreens for the mike. Also, appropriately colored paper tape can be used to cover the shockmount, or acoustically transparent colored cloth can shroud both mike and shockmount. Be sure the cloth is far enough from the mike that it does not rub when moved.

2. For non-screen work, the ordinary booming rules about shadows and reflections apply, except…

Now that HD video is the norm, there is no film “sprocket jitter” to make the matt lines stand out, and there is no “generation loss” from optical film processes. This, plus the much lower cost of video image processing compared to film, has made producers and directors less reluctant to use it. Offending objects can be removed from a shot relatively easily, and this can include mike booms. (Of course, this is no license for sloppy work.)

Another use of CGI solved a problem that has plagued filmmakers from the very beginning: reflections of lights, cameras and crew in shiny surfaces. Bubble faceplates on spacesuits were a particular problem. (We had to build a quarter-million-watt artificial sun for single-source lighting on the TV miniseries From the Earth to the Moon, in major part because of the astronauts’ mirrored visors.) For Avatar, most of the exopack masks were only open frames, with red fiduciary (computer-tracking) dots around the edge. CGI faceplates were added in Post, complete with the appropriate reflections of trees, sky, other characters, etc. Many of the windows in vehicles were CGI’d in the same manner. This provided a rare benefit to the sound department: the ability to shoot through a “closed” window or a facemask with a boom mike.

When it comes to setting levels and mixing the production (realtime) scratch mix for a capture scene, the usual live-action esthetic and dramatic considerations do not apply:

1. As just mentioned, there is no “visual perspective” as such for a given take, because it can be rendered from any POV. Wireless mikes sound “close,” and you will try to boom mike as closely as possible, too. With every channel iso’d, there is the freedom in Post to mix them in any proportion, but remember that your work is normally judged in dailies. (Although nowadays, that usually means the immediate playback of the take.)

2. For your production mix, however, you will have to make certain choices without knowing what perspective image it will be mated to. EXCEPTION: When a virtual camera is in use, if you can see or be told, what the composition is, by all means use that perspective, because it will most likely be seen (and heard) that way first, as in dailies.

3. The biggest problem (IMHO) concerns overlapping dialog when the characters are separated in the volume by a large distance. If you don’t have the virtual camera info mentioned above, try to imagine what the composition of the rendered shot(s) will be. Is a main character speaking with a secondary one? Then the main character will probably get the most screen time. Is one character reacting more emotionally than the other? Then they will probably get the close-up.

4. After you have determined (made your best guess) which character will be featured, mix them just noticeably hotter than the other one. The separation in levels should be just large enough that the lower level dialog doesn’t muddy the higher level dialog, but no more. Since both actors are close-mic’d, if they happen to feature the secondary one, the overlap will still work. EXCEPTION: If you know the purpose of the overlap, assign the higher level to the appropriate character’s dialog. This will call attention to the overlapping character, but that’s the reason for the overlap in the first place.

In addition to the usual noise problems on a live-action stage, the volume has some unique ones:

1. The area lighting is often supplied by ordinary fluorescent lamps, and many of them have older magnetic ballasts that emit 120 Hz hums and buzzes. Modern electronic (high-frequency) ballasts are usually quiet enough, and are available as direct replacements for the older magnetic ones.

2. There are usually a great number of computers on the stage, and their cooling fans are a significant source of noise. If the facility has been in existence for some time, this may already have been dealt with. If not, plywood baffles, covered with sound-absorbing material on the side that faces the computers, should quiet them sufficiently.

3. Some volumes’ floors are carpeted to eliminate footstep noise, but unfortunately, some are not. An adequate stock of foot foam should be on hand for this eventuality. Be sure to remove any dust or other loose material from the shoe soles before attaching the foam. I have found that repeatedly wiping the soles with the sticky side of gaffer tape, using a new length of tape each pass, does an outstanding job of preparing them. An expedient method when time is limited is to slip heavy wool socks over the shoes. You may have to cut holes in the socks for the foot markers. Unfortunately, the socks can slip around, and also have less traction on the floor than rubber soles. I keep a dozen 2’ x 5’ carpet rolls on my follow cart, and these can be laid down along the path taken by the actor(s) during the rehearsal. (Of course, they never deviate during the take.) Normally, the strips are taped in place, but when time is short, they can be attached with staple guns (unless the floor is concrete). IMPORTANT: Roll up the carpets with their upper surface out—this makes the strip curl downward when it is laid out, so the ends hug the floor and do not curve up to present a tripping hazard.

4. The floor-contour modules are another source of footstep sounds. Some of them are carpeted, but can still produce dull, hollow thumps from the impacts of running or jumping (which video games seem to have in abundance). The un-carpeted platforms are particularly loud. If at all possible, arrange to have them carpeted before shooting begins. Both types of modules benefit from having the underside of the top surface sprayed with sound-deadening material, such as automotive underbody coating. Using thicker (and unfortunately, heaver) plywood for the upper surface makes a big difference, too. During shooting, carpet strips can be utilized on the modules in the same manner as on the floor.

5. Front-projection video projectors have cooling fans that can be problematical. Ask if their use is absolutely necessary. Check in their menus to see if they have a “lownoise/ low-speed” option.

6. Props (and some set dressing) are usually not the real objects they represent. Rifles are plastic or wood pieces shaped like the guns they represent, or toys or air rifles.

A solid oak dining table may in fact be only a row of folding card tables of the same height and overall size. Be alert to any sounds they produce—an object set down on the card table (not on a line) may make an effect at the appropriate level, but the sound will not be appropriate to the nature of the CGI-heavy wood table. There are two schools of thought in dealing with this: 1, eliminate as much noise as possible by padding the table so the effects cutter will have a clean room tone to lay the correct effect into; and 2, leave the production effect in, as a guide to synchronization when laying in the new effect. I suggest discussing the matter with Post ahead of time, but my personal preference is number 2, because the presence of the padding will affect the manner (body motion) in which the actor sets down the object. Of course, if the inappropriate sound is on a line, either pad the table or object, or record some clean wild lines.

Capture Procedure

When a capture scene begins, the actors will start by spreading out and taking a “T-pose” near the edge of the volume. If you haven’t been given a specific “Roll sound,” this is the time to go into Record. An added precaution, be sure to set your recorder’s pre-roll to the maximum time. T-pose is a standing position with the legs slightly spread and the arms extended horizontally, which allows the capture techs to see that the system has properly recognized all the markers. The techs give the okay, the actors will take their proper positions in the set and then the director will call “Action.”

At the end of the shot, after the director calls “Cut,” the actors will again move out and take the T-pose. When the capture techs are satisfied, they will announce that the capture system is stopped, and then you can stop recording.

The primary difference between a capture shoot and any other type is that you won’t have much free time once the process starts. Unlike live-action, there is no setup time for camera and lighting. And there are no setups for alternate camera angles, or retakes for bad camera moves, flyaway hair, or any of the multitude of other delays sound is used to. Once the scene has been performed to the director’s satisfaction, the action will move to the next one, which again requires no re-lighting, new camera setups, wardrobe changes, or makeup and hair. If any set or prop changes are necessary, they can be accomplished in a few minutes. Plan your bathroom breaks accordingly.

This high-density work can generate many GB of audio, so be sure to have a large amount of pre-formatted media on hand. Depending on your particular recorder, you may have your on-set archive on an internal or external hard drive, or a CF or SD card. Most productions want audio turned in on a flash memory card. SD cards are much cheaper than CF cards (and all those tiny fragile pins in the CF card socket scare me). If you are using a Deva with only CF card slots, consider an external SD dock into the Deva’s FireWire port. Depending on the particular job, you may or may not be required to turn in the flash card(s) during the day or at wrap. The audio may be imported immediately and the card(s) returned to you, or they may be kept overnight or longer. Use only ‘name-brand” cards, as the wear-leveling algorithms on the cheap ones can cause premature failure, with the possible loss of all your data.

The director may have several options to monitor the scene during capture:

1. The live video from the reference cameras.

2. A crudely rendered live CGI frame, with a fixed POV chosen in advance.

3. Using a “virtual camera,” pioneered by Cameron on Avatar. This is a small, handheld flat-panel monitor equipped with reflective markers. The capture system knows its location and the direction it is pointed, and renders a live CGI frame from that POV and “lens size.” The director can treat it as a handheld camera, pointing it as though it was a real camera in the virtual world. Incidentally, the camera does not have to actually be pointed at the actors—the GCI world seen by the virtual camera can be rotated so that the camera can be aimed at an empty part of the stage to avoid distractions. Another feature of the virtual camera is a “proportionality control.” Set to 1:1, the camera acts like a handheld camera. At 10:1, raising the camera two feet creates a 20-foot crane shot. With a 100:1 ratio, it is possible to make aerial “flyover” shots, because the entire extent of the virtual world is available in the computer’s database.

When a virtual camera is in use on a multi-day shoot, the capture days may not be contiguous. After a certain amount of capture has been done, the main crew and cast may be put on hiatus while the director wanders around the empty capture stage with the scene data being played back repeatedly. The crudely rendered video will appear in the handheld monitor, from the POV of its current position. The director can then “shoot” coverage of the scene: master, close-ups, over-the-shoulders, stacked-profile tracking shots, etc. This procedure ensures that all the angles “work.” If not, the director has two options: re-capture the scene on another day; or fix the problem in the computer by dragging characters into the desired position and/or digitally rearranging the props, set or background.

If this is the case, you have two choices: wrap your gear at the end of each capture session, and load in and set up at the beginning of the next one; or leave your gear in place during your off day(s). The trade-off is between the extra work (and payroll time) of wrapping and setting up, and the danger of the theft of the gear, or your getting a last-minute call for another job on the idle day(s). If you elect to leave your equipment, see if you can get a “stand-by” rental payment. Even if this is only a token amount, it establishes a precedent, and you may be able to raise the rate on the next job.

Conclusion

In addition to on-the-job training, if you know another mixer who will let you visit a capture set, take advantage of the opportunity as soon as possible. I probably would have not survived the first day of my first capture job (Avatar) if it were not for Art Rochester, who kindly let me shadow him before he left the show. I also got many hours of coaching from William Kaplan, who mixed the show before Art, and let me use his regular Boom Op, Tommy Giordano, to help with the load-in and setup of my gear. Bill also sent his son Jessie to work with me on the set. If at all possible, hire a boom op who has capture experience. (Note to boom ops: list your capture experience in your 695 directory listing.)

I wish you an absence of bad luck, which is more important than good luck in this business.

Text and pictures © 2014 by James Tanenbaum, all rights reserved.
Avatar set photo ©2009 Twentieth Century Fox. All rights reserved.

Working With Jim Webb

by Andy Rovins, CAS

One day in 1981, while standing in line at a bank, I struck up a conversation with an older gentleman who said he was a retired Prop Master. When I replied that I was a Boom Operator, he said that his son, Chris McLaughlin, was a Boom Operator. “Really, Chris McLaughlin is revered among boom operators. He works with Jim Webb and gets equal billing with Jim as the sound team.” The next day, I got a call from Chris. “Who are you, and why are you saying nice things about me to my pop?” We chatted a bit about mikes and booms and stuff. “What do you like,” he asked? “A Schoeps is my favorite.” “We use an 815 on everything. We did All the Presidents’ Men with one 815 underneath and won an Oscar.” You had to be spot-on with an 815 or it would sound funky; if you could handle one all the time you were a real Boom Operator.

A few days later, Chris asked me if I wanted to work on pickups for One From the Heart. Their regular third, Jim Steube, was on vacation. I jumped at the opportunity. I got to work with this famous team, and I’d heard about this film, with Francis Coppola directing from the Silverfish (a custom airstream trailer stuffed with monitors and video gear), Vittorio Storaro’s lighting and Dean Tavoularis’ forced perspective Las Vegas sets. I also got to meet Jim, whom I’d heard so much about. Jim was congenial and different from most Mixers I knew. He didn’t want to be near the set, but was content to cable in and give his Boom Operators autonomy. We did scenes with Teri Garr and Raul Julia, and one with Nastassja Kinski sitting in a big martini glass singing “Little Boy Blue.” Nastassja was a real flirt. I think every guy on the set had a crush on her.

At one point, Francis came on set and tried to talk Joanie Blum, the Script Supervisor, into directing the scene, but she wanted no part of it. I offered to do it, but Francis declined. “Who are you?’ “I’m your new Sound Utilityman.” “Oh, yeah, I used to do that job.” He decided to direct it himself.

The last day, Chris felt ill so Jim told me I could boom. It was only a little announcement from Francis—they wanted to show the film to exhibitors, but the opticals weren’t done so it would have some slugs that he wanted to explain. Francis was late that day and we sat around. Finally, someone came up with an idea. Ron Garcia, DP for the pickups, looked kind of like Francis with his beard. So we sat Ron in a director’s chair holding a film can, while a prop guy dropped money into it from above, and Ron looked at the camera and said, “We will show no film before its time,” a goof on an Orson Welles wine commercial running at the time. I think Ron still has a print of it.

Jim brought me on some more projects after that. He would drive up in his white van, and we would pull out the Fisher boom—Jim was the only guy I knew who owned his own. He had his anodized black and changed out the platform wrench to a socket for faster action. When possible, Jim would mix from the van and we would run cable out. A cool thing about having our own Fisher was that we didn’t have to bargain for one; it was there if we needed it.

Jim got some interesting gigs in those days. He brought me on Get High on Yourself, an anti-drug special produced by Robert Evans as part of a plea bargain negotiated after an arrest for possession. It was a huge production with many bands and stars, including Ted Nugent, The Osmonds, Leif Garrett, Brooke Shields, Carol Burnett and Paul Newman. There were concerts and audience Q&As with lots of kids asking the celebrities questions. There was also a big production number with many stars and kids all singing the theme song in a style that would be mirrored by “We Are the World” a few years later. Jeff Fecteau and Chris Seidenglanz were the A2s and co-booms. There were many producers on that show; the event was kind of thrown together and disorganized but I think Jim thrived on being able to hold together challenges like that.

Jim liked my boom work so he asked me to come along for another unique show—recording a concert by pianist Mona Golabek in a women’s prison in Chino, California. It was an odd scene. The prison had been built as a luxury resort in the ’20s, so it was all marble and stone floors with high-vaulted ceilings.

The acoustics were somewhat echoey, so we put up furny pads when we could, mic’d the pianos with some Shure dynamics and set up an SM58 for Mona. We rolled the Fisher out of Jim’s white van for me (with the 815) to mike questions and reactions from the prisoners.

It was somewhat incongruous: we had a classical pianist in a stately, beautiful building playing Chopin and Liszt for an audience of very rough-looking women in prison fatigues, but they were an appreciative group and seemed to regard the experience as a treat. I think Jim still has a recording of that show.

Jim is not just a great Sound Mixer. He’s also one of the best raconteurs I’ve ever met. Just sit down with him if you get a chance. He tells me that one of his favorite stories comes from Get High on Yourself when I was working that long 815 on the Fisher boom to get unscripted audience responses. To be part of Jim’s stories is a real honor!

Blood, Guts, Gore … and Chiggers
Behind the Boom of THE WALKING DEAD

With Robert ‘Max’ Maxfield

Photos by Gene Page, courtesy of AMC TV, except where otherwise noted

Did you know that chiggers don’t really burrow under your skin?! Nope, actually they grab onto a hair follicle, and inject a digestive enzyme into your skin cells. The enzyme ruptures your cells so that they can drink the resulting fluid containing a protein they need to grow. Your skin hardens around the area, forming a nice big red volcano-like sore. That enzyme-filled volcano keeps you itching for a good three to four days. And you’re almost never bitten by just one!

I came by this intimate knowledge of chiggers in the early fall of 2011 when I was invited to go down to Atlanta for three weeks to boom a show I’d never heard of called The Walking Dead. It was in the middle of Season Two, and I was told that another guy would come in after me to finish the last five weeks of the schedule. It’s not a good sign when you take over in the middle of a season and it’s even less promising when they’ve already scheduled another person to come in after you. I couldn’t shake the thought that I was just another piece of raw meat for zombie lunch. And the prospect of working nights on a project with blood, guts and gore (I’ve never really taken to B-movie horror) was not attractive. I had memories of working with slimy creatures in the early ’90s series Freddy’s Nightmares and wasn’t eager to revisit the experience. So, after a short deliberation, I told the Sound Mixer, “Thank you for inviting me, but I’m going to have to pass.”

Well, seven days went by and I still hadn’t booked anything for the following week, so I thought, “Heck, three weeks with a bunch of rotting corpses in sunny Georgia couldn’t be too disgusting, and it’s not like I have to eat lunch with them.” Like any Boy Scout film worker during lean times, I called the Sound Mixer back and asked, “Still looking for a good Boom Operator?” He said, “Yes, come on down.” I shook off the disquiet that they were only three days from needing someone and hadn’t yet filled the position. “Oh well, they’re paying me housing and per diem, plus a box rental and rental car … I’m outta here!”

Three days later, I was driving my rental car down a pitch-black country road at six o’clock in the morning, just outside the tiny rural town of Senoia, Georgia. The stages are situated in an old chemical plant on a dead-end road, one hour south of Atlanta in a thickly forested area that only chiggers could love. It’s shrouded by trees, stagnant ponds, railroad tracks and all of the little creatures that make for a great horror flick. I fought off the feeling of this being my worst nightmare.

I arrived to some good news. They told me that I was the ninth Boom Operator on the show since its inception a year prior. “You mean that in only 13 filmed episodes, you have been through nine Boom Operators!” “Yep,” the Sound Mixer said. This was not sitting well with me. By the end of that same Season Two, they would reach the milestone of 11 Boom Operators! To this day, they call me “Number 9, Number 9, Number 9…” There have also been several Mixers over the seasons, starting with my friend and supporter, Bartek Swiatek, CAS, a Local 695 colleague who left Georgia to move to California, and coming to the present day with Michael Clark, CAS.

Oh, and it turns out, I did have to eat with those zombie things. Nothing like lunch with a gooey corpse sitting across the table from me, spoonfeeding itself through displaced dentures into its black-and-blue prosthetic face—yummy. But, it’s those little tufts of half-dead hair that really creep me out.

The day before my arrival, they had filmed the Season Two farm scene where Rick, Shane and the others, slaughtered the zombies that Herschel’s family had secretly kept in the barn. Our first setup had 12 cast members, spread 12 feet apart outside the barn, shuddering over the deaths of their kinfolk-turned-zombies. There were three cameras (a daily ritual) on three separate 30-foot lengths of dolly track that formed a large U around the actors. All of the cameras had long lenses. I was the solo Boom Operator, as the six remaining tracks on the Sound Devices 788t were allocated to the scripted speakers and the mix track. It was my first day with this Mixer, so I hoisted the boom, danced about the dollies and stretched with determination to prove that I could get some dialog; I wanted to stand out amongst the eight previous Boom Operators. My results seemed feeble, as I was only able to get a couple of lines. The Camera Operators and Dolly Grips were giving me funny looks like “What’s with the new guy? What number is he?” “Not the last,” said someone, “he’s walker bait … won’t last a week!” They all chuckled. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

Far in the back of the acting pack was Emily Kinney (playing Beth), who sobbed uncontrollably throughout the scene. She was not wired but she dominated each take with her emotional outcries. I mentioned that it would be best to pull a wire off someone that I could get on the boom and put that wire on her but there was no enthusiasm for taking the time to make the transition. As the third take commenced, a loud jet entered the shooting zone. I immediately called for a hold, but the 1st AD cut me off. “We don’t hold for planes … roll sound!” The remaining three weeks of my stay were grueling, sweaty and filled with my first set of fluid-sucking chiggers.

Later, I learned that, due to time constraints, upper management restricted freedom to make corrections. The production schedule was so relentless that, at one time, they had adopted a policy of using radio microphones exclusively. They didn’t ever want to see a boom over any actor and were determined to fix any sound problems in Post. The Sound Mixer went on to tell me stories about how they would wait for “Roll Sound,” get the sticks and then, at the last second, slip the boom in for some of the close-ups.

The history of booming this show aside, there was a lot of pressure on me to boom some scenes because of challenges with wind, wardrobe, props and the active nature of the staging. One night, I had to boom a scene that took place in a tent. Both of the characters, Rick Grimes (Andy Lincoln) and Lori Grimes (Sarah Wayne Callies), entered the tent while talking and then disrobed and continued with their dialog. It was impossible to wire them, so I had to figure out a way to boom them in the tent. Do you have any idea how much space is available in a tent after two cameras, two operators and two assistants have been employed? Add in four apple boxes and two 4-foot sliders, and it’s really cramped. The only thing going for me was that they had to raise the side flap to position the cameras. There was barely enough room for me to insert a 12-foot boom pole with a Schoeps MK41 capsule on a GVC. I had to start the shot crouched down, yet standing, so as to reach the tent’s entrance. Fortunately, I was able to aim the microphone straight through the fabric to bring them into the tent talking. I was just millimeters from the cloth ceiling, so I had to be extremely careful not to whisk the microphone on the cloth, while keeping it equidistant to their mouths. After they entered and began taking off their clothes, I had to back up and get down on both knees. At one point, Rick delivered a couple lines looking away from Lori. I couldn’t possibly get them both, so I put a plant microphone on a nearby table, and boomed Lori until Rick turned back. The plant did its job. It was four o’clock in the morning, the last scene of the night, and I was exhausted. It was truly my best booming feat during the entire three weeks. But, as the Camera Operator, Michael Satrazemis, said that first week, “It’s a tough show, but that’s what makes it great.”

Obstacles and frustrations aside, I figured I better work hard, have patience and keep a good attitude. The actors were fabulous and supported my efforts from the beginning. In fact, I remember the Sound Mixer telling me, when he was trying to entice me to do the show, that the actors were very warm and accommodating and kept him motivated to do good work. People like Andy Lincoln (as Rick Grimes), Norman Reedus (as Daryl), Scott Wilson (as Hershel), IronE Singleton (as T-Dog), Jeffrey DeMunn (as Dale), Lauren Cohan (as Maggie) and Steven Yeun (as Glenn) would come up to me and give me a good-morning hug. I hardly knew these folks, and they welcomed me like family. Jeffrey DeMunn said it first, and he said it the most, “WE are the Walking Dead” WE, the cast, crew and abovethe- line executives, ARE THE WALKING DEAD! It’s still true of the cast to this day. The Georgia heat, the remote locations, the grueling production schedule, the absence of zombie hygiene and chiggers, make this a very difficult show, but the spirit the actors bring to the project keeps the crew working together as a team.

Yet I still wasn’t convinced that I wanted to be a part of it when I was asked to join Season Three full time. I had doubts, so many, in fact, that I said, “NO.” I continued to say, “NO” for about four weeks. The thing that really turned me around was the fact that the Sound Mixer went to the wall to get me a rate I couldn’t refuse. Yep, it came down to money. But now, after two full seasons, I look back, and I look forward, and I confess, it isn’t the money that makes working on The Walking Dead worth it, it’s the family spirit. It’s the excitement of being part of one of the most amazing TV shows ever.

The setting of this TV series is unique in character, in that it takes place in a post-apocalyptic world. There is no electricity or running water, no trains, no planes, only a few cars and so far, no boat. We do have one obnoxious motorcycle, and usually we can get Norman (as Daryl) to turn it off before he speaks, but sometimes this is logistically impossible. A post-apocalyptic world is a quiet world. But, we shoot in rural Georgia. We have highways, lots of trains, farm implements, bustling towns and our studios are right in the approaching pathway of Atlanta Hartsfield International Airport. It’s not easy recording dead quiet takes in our modern world.

Locations are often deep in the woods, on rarely traveled dirt roads, abandoned railroad tracks and around brush-shrouded ponds. This means that we have to load our equipment onto flatbed trailers and get pulled by four-wheel-drive vehicles to our locations. When the going gets rough, we all pitch in to get it down. And when a deluge of rain comes in, we all take the hit on another sloppy mud fest to get ourselves out of the swamp bog.

Many of these locations lay along the unused rail tracks that serviced the now-abandoned enterprises in this part of rural Georgia. The Construction Department built several wooden carts to help move gear along the tracks. They’re very helpful when they work but they often break down and we’re forced to remove our carts and roll or drag them along the gravel rail-beds adjacent to the tracks. Zombie apocalypses don’t generally occur right next to the Walmart so we often need to haul the gear a considerable distance. That the carts are wobbly and tend to squeak doesn’t really bother us except when they are pressed into service as camera dollies. Then the noise of the cart layered with the sound of grips pushing it on the gravel rail-bed does make recording a clean track difficult.

Actors on The Walking Dead roll around, run, shout, yell, fight, whisper, snap their heads from one side to side, kneel, bend over and swing lots of props (guns, knives, katanas, crossbows, backpacks, hammers, crow bars, bottles, etc.), all in the same setup. And, they do it amongst trees, vines, creeks, tall grass, railroad tracks, rubble, fences, furniture and the like. This constant activity makes booming the show a unique experience; my legwork has never been more tested. The dizzying array of props needed to combat zombies forces us to be creative in radio microphone placement. We’ve rigged collars, hats, hair, the props themselves and everywhere else imaginable.

Anyone who has viewed the show is well aware of how location-driven the sets are. We work in the forest a lot. We work on gravel roads a lot. We work in fields a lot. We work with the elements a lot. But we also work a lot indoors. The difference is, 99.9% of our locations, wherever they may be, are filthy. They’re dusted, shredded, destroyed, trashed, wetted, burned and pillaged. Everything is dirty on The Walking Dead. The only good thing, as far as sound goes, is that the mills and plants that serve as our sets are typically vacant and out of business. Turning off noisy appliances is not so much an issue with us. But, the sheer volume of filth complicates placing microphones on the actors. In fact, the costumers go to great lengths to pat them down with blood, dust, dirt and oil. Blood and oil are the real test. And this show really uses blood—lots of blood—gallons of blood. In fact, there’s something like 10 types of blood: live blood, dead blood, real dead blood, drippy blood, gooey blood, thick blood, blue blood, black blood, it’s bloody unbelievable! As much as we all love Joe’s clear butyl, it doesn’t work on bloody and oily clothes. Perspiration doesn’t make such a good friend either. We end up having to sew most of the lavaliers into their clothes, especially during the warm months. This takes extra time. Fortunately, over the seasons we have conditioned the production staff to bring the actors to us extra early. Unfortunately, they have to be un-sewn whenever there is a technical issue with the lavalier, or when there is a wardrobe change. To avoid the need for re-sewing, we do tests, placing the microphone in the proposed position and having the actor go through anticipated body motions. Sometimes we’ll wire additional wardrobe in advance. We’ve wired as many as three shirts at one time. On this show pre-planning is imperative, because we almost never do rehearsals, and time is so precious. Then, at wrap, the actors must come to us after a grueling day of rolling and fighting their way through the zombie apocalypse to have their microphones extracted from their costumes.

The sun provides its own little challenge. Ordinarily, “fly swatters” (20 x 20 diffusion frames rigged onto an overhead condor) would soften the shadows on exterior shots but they aren’t used on The Walking Dead. The difficulty of getting that kind of gear a quarter mile down rail tracks to a shooting location precludes their use. Sometimes this forces us to use two booms to capture shadow-free dialog from a single player.

Much of The Walking Dead is shot in the summer. Georgia is sweltering hot with singing cicadas, croaking frogs and stinging sunburns on the back of your neck. Every time I wring out my shirt, I have occasion to remember the line from David Lynch’s Wild at Heart, with Laura Dern and Nicolas Cage, “You’re as hot as Georgia asphalt.” Summer is when the chiggers, ticks, mosquitos and spiders are most plentiful. Sometimes, before we even arrive on set, we drench our bare legs, arms, necks and midsections with a not-so-healthy dose of DEET. It stings a bit at first but really does the job. We don’t like it, but it beats scratching for days on end until your flesh comes off. Ahhh, the glamour of Hollywood.

The Directors and Directors of Photography make full use, as they should, of all the visual tools at their disposal. They use Steadicams, Go Pros, DSLRs, below-ground positions, hidden cameras, long custom- made sliders to go among vines and trees, high-angle crane shots and every device imaginable to achieve an expressive image. Typically, several of these elements will be combined for multiple views of the action. This adds to the challenge of getting good dialog tracks.

Episode 405, “Internment,” is illustrative. The Director, David Boyd, one of the former DPs on the show, believes in guerrilla-style filmmaking, using multiple cameras in obscure positions. The episode took place mostly in the prison cells, where Scott Wilson (Hershel) would tend to the near-death patients. These cells are really only about 10 feet by 10 feet with a bunk bed on one side. Director Boyd staged the scene with three actors, three cameras and two operators. Radios couldn’t be used because the actors had blood on their chests and air masks on their faces so my assignment was to squeeze into the cell with everyone else and get the dialog. My regular position in these scenes was either standing on the upper bunk or squeezed between an operator and the wall, only inches from the talent.

These same cells presented one of our biggest acoustic challenges. Although they were prison cells, and ought to sound like prison cells, they were really made of wood. We used furniture pads on the walls, and acoustic tiles in the corners when they wouldn’t be seen, but many times we couldn’t control things. Fortunately, the reverberant effects that Post Production added fixed the problem, and made for some very interesting character effects.

Despite these extraordinary elements, the soundtracks have been getting better and better. This is due to a solid proactive plan, teamwork, ample first-rate equipment and excellent execution. Production Sound Mixer Michael P. Clark, CAS leads us through the process by being very involved. Days in advance he will be analyzing scripts, talking with decision makers, preparing equipment and contemplating solutions. And his mixing skills are sharp, clean and logical. Dennis Sanborn, the Utility person, is assertively proactive in preparing equipment, securing locations and most importantly, wiring all of the actors. He is both skillful and resourceful. As arduous as recording sound is on The Walking Dead, these guys step up to the challenge of working on one of the most difficult shows in television with grace and determination.

I’ve never before been part of something so deep, difficult and complex as the process of making this show. More than any project I have ever worked, the shared sentiment that “We Are the Walking Dead” makes this one of the most remarkable career experiences that I have ever had. It has truly changed my life … and my career.