If you've read these articles and like the sound of getting involved in effects, why not contact us to hear how you can find out more?!
2010 Standlake Players
| Meanwhile backstage... | Read the latest Backstage article by former Players Chairman Phil Birkett | |
| A page where our members contribute thoughts about our shows, how we make them, what goes on backstage, and any other interesting piece of information about Standlake's theatre group. Our most recent backstage has been written by former Players Chairman Phil Birkett. Hear now what he has to say about the shady goings on backstage... |
||
| An actor's life for me by Phil Birkett (Former Players Chairman) |
As a founder member of The Standlake Players, back in 2007, I came to amdram at the age of 56 with precious little experience. In fact the last time that I managed to “tread the boards” had been at Witney Grammar School in 1968 (playing Camillo in “The Winter’s Tale” as I recall). In many ways I wish that I had pushed myself to get involved in amateur theatricals earlier, but a busy work, social and family life meant that it didn’t happen until retirement - better late than never I suppose, but no chance now to play the romantic lead! Anyway, as one of only a handful of male actors in our group (only 3 of us for most of the last 3 years), I have managed to slot into any parts which did not call explicitly for either the very young or the totally decrepit, although I look forward to playing “miserable old git c/w zimmer frame” in a few years time. So, what is it like this acting lark? Well, I reckon it’s a non-athletic alternative to hazardous sport, and therefore highly recommended for the recently retired gent who is anxious not to go to seed. Think about it - first you have to learn some stage craft and that’s every bit as tricky as learning how to drive. In my experience, trying to spout newly-learned lines is quite enough to be going on with thank you very much. What? You also want me to address other actors, to pick things up, put things down, remember when to come on stage and from where, when to go off, NOT to talk upstage, and to continue to act even when I’m not involved in the dialogue? Phew! And learning those lines in the first place! Good grief! Great brain exercise no doubt, but bloody hard work for someone of my vintage I can tell you. Well, it seems there are various techniques that you can use to cement those words into the old noddle, hopefully IN THE RIGHT ORDER, and I use one or two. However, I think it’s as well to be aware that, for most of us, there is no substitute for hard work and repetition, repetition, repetition. And after all that, please don’t imagine that just because you are fluent whilst lying in the bath or whilst walking the dog, that all of those painstakingly learned lines of dialogue won’t be wiped from your brain the moment you try to go off-script in a real rehearsal - because they will be. Then, when you are still insecure about your lines, your moves, your costume and makeup, the other actors, the set, EVERYTHING - after all that you are expected to huddle quietly in a cramped dressing room (thank GOD ours has a toilet attached), enter on cue and then perform with as few glitches as possible IN FRONT OF A ROOM FULL OF STRANGERS! ARE YOU INSANE? Well, probably yes. Before the First Night performance, the only way I can avoid fleeing the dressing room is by finding a corner on my own and disappearing into my shell - others like to chat or joke, but not me - I can only gibber by this stage. Then, when I do make an entrance I feel it is a near-death experience - I can hardly breathe, my mind is a blank, I desperately want to turn and run, but then, then, then I step forward (feels like off the edge of the world), deliver my line (which has miraculously re-entered my head), and I’m away… Oh, and the excitement of performing if you feel that it’s going rather well and the audience is on your side, the joy when you get an enthusiastic curtain call, the sheer bloody relief and euphoria in the dressing room afterwards when we actors all go into luvvie mode and start kissing and hugging. Then, the adrenaline disperses, you relax in the knowledge that First Night is over, it wasn’t a disaster and, joy of joys, there are nearly 24 hours to go before you have to do it all again. So, there we are: a personal snapshot of the amdram actors life, and it probably sounds a bit fearsome in parts to the uninitiated. “Why do you do it?” I hear you ask. Well, I do it because it’s tremendous fun, more than that it’s life-enhancing and I’m very afraid that I’M ADDICTED NOW and wouldn’t swap it for the world - will that do you? |
|
The Confessions of a Sound Man
by Steve Good (Standlake Player and sound effects guru) |
|
Over the years I have been found guilty of what some might consider very strange behaviour. Like the time my wife called up the stairs . . . "Whatever are you doing in the toilet dear, you've been in there for hours, why do you keep flushing it?" I shouted back . . . "I'm alright. I'm just working on the Panto soundtrack; I need to flush a small child down the loo!". Then there was the time not so long ago, when the script simply read "sound of temporary scaffolding platform collapsing onto cub scouts with marching band playing Monty Python theme tune in a heavy thunderstorm". As I am sure you will agree, this is not a sound that you come across everyday of the week! Eventually, after much thought, I was to be found in the garden of the Black Horse pub in Standlake, busy recording the sound of hollow, 2-inch diameter metal marquee poles being dropped onto the concrete-the perfect sound for the temporary stage collapsing in a heap. There I was, armed to the teeth with all of my recording equipment, microphone stretched out in one hand (and a pint in the other, of course), asking Adam the Landlord, who was very busy working with his son trying to take down the marquee at the end of the summer season, if he would please drop the marquee poles once again . . . and again . . . and again, because I needed a much longer recording of this most unusual and very hard-to-come-by sound! Finally, back in the studio I added the marching Monty Python band and then the kids shouting. I mixed in a bit of thunder, some dogs barking, and ambulance sirens wailing, and eventually I had the finished soundtrack for the grand finale of The Standlake Players' performance of 'Gosforth's Fete'.
Sound as an art form within a theatre environment can be used in various ways. It can guide the telling and pace of a story; it can create an illusion of danger where there is none; it can add humour and pathos, light and shade, beginning and end, and it can even create a vital subconscious emotional connection to the audience, amongst many other possibilities.
I believe that sound production, or sound engineering, could perhaps be best referred to as an "invisible art". Invisible, because when it is well conceived, well rehearsed and seamlessly delivered, the members of the audience should become so engaged with the overall production, that they are not consciously aware of my work. Ask yourself how often you are actually consciously aware of the soundtrack running in the background of a film. The answer is probably "rarely", because although it is there running in the background for most of the time, if correctly delivered it usually remains invisible on any conscious level. But try muting the sound on your TV and notice how flat and dull just the mere acting alone becomes, turn the sound back on and hey presto, the whole thing comes back to life!
In practical terms sound production at its most basic level is the art, technique, and technical practice of assembling various unconnected sounds into a coherent whole. I produce my work via the process of firstly reading the script, then watching the rehearsals, including holding discussions with the director and individual cast members, and then I'm off to a dark room to start "imagining" the various sounds, or musical elements that might best suit the piece. This is followed by the extremely lengthy process of sourcing all of the appropriate individual noises and separate musical elements, prior to finally starting to assemble the whole package in a multi-track recording studio environment. As was the case in the Gosforth's Fete production, I often have to overlay sound upon sound, track upon track, to create the individual sections required; sometimes up to eight, or even ten tracks will overlay each other.
Then it's off to rehearsal to try out the work, then back again to the recording studio to modify it, returning next week to our rehearsal until finally everyone is happy with what I have created.
As you can see, the job of a sound man isn't simply to bang two empty coconut shells together in order to make a sound like a horse, or to just mechanically follow simple sound cue instructions from a script. A good sound man must work closely with the director in conceiving, creating and working with layers of sound images, story, dialogue, music, pacing, as well as the actors' performances, often to effectively "redirect" the production to aid the crafting of a cohesive whole. Happily working unnoticed at the back of the hall during performances, and never on stage for the final bows, the sound man nevertheless usually plays a dynamic and surprisingly artistic role in the making of any successful theatrical production. |
If you've read these articles and like the sound of getting involved in effects, why not contact us to hear how you can find out more?!
