It amazes me how many accountants and personal secretaries are placed in a position to oversee the success of extremely high profile events. I also find it stupefying that some executive, somewhere, makes plans to have an obscenely extravagant event to tout some fabulous product or charity, hires some incredibly famous star as a host and then tops it off by employing an even more extraordinary celestial body as the evening's entertainment. This same executive then goes out and books a venue based upon it's trendy status without giving a second thought in regard to how the event will be staged or managed and then, because the event is so important to the success of his company, he makes sure that guest list reads like a Who's Who of the New York City society page. Subsequently, to ensure that the rest of the world will know what they missed, he maneuvers to have everyone from the most important media outlets covering the event. He views his work and he sees that it is good. So good, in fact, that he then places the whole success of the event in the hands of his personal secretary, who may be a whiz with catering and decor, but has no prior experience in regard to concert production or event management. She may be able to read a menu and figure out a perfect seating arrangement, but as far as she is concerned, the band riders, which are now her responsibility, may as well be blueprints for building a time machine. So, in a frantic, yet surprisingly lucid, moment, she picks up the phone and calls�me.
I, of course, am thrilled to shoulder the burden of the event. In fact, I relish the opportunity to ride in on my valiant white steed, clothed in my shining armor and waving my Arthurian sword as I vanquish yet another dragon all in the name of…of what? Good production? Nah, it's just a gig, and I will fare better the sooner I get off my high horse and realize I'm not Sir Lancelot. Truth be known, in these circumstances I usually feel more like a clerk in a grocery store hearing the call, "Baker, clean up in aisle three!" For better or worse, and despite my fantastic mood swings, I am now in charge of making the music and presentation portion of the event a success, which is not a problem except that what started out as an award presentation for Quincy Jones' philanthropic work has now morphed into a short solo concert by John Legend. Again, this is not really a problem either; the problem starts when Mario and Marsha are booked last minute to open the show.
I am told that the same band will be backing both of them and that it's just a small band consisting of two keyboard players, bass player and drummer. The quandary I find myself facing is how to fit John Legend and a baby grand piano on a 12-foot by 12-foot stage with a full band, and still make room for the guest of honor. Hey, for someone who's cleaned up aisle three many times before, this is a cakewalk, and with a few more risers we expand the stage to the maximum the room can accommodate, 12 feet by 16 feet. It's tight, but it seems to work. The initial plan was to place the band in a certain configuration on the back of the stage, with the piano downstage right for John Legend. But now, because of the room's odd shape, this configuration would place John Legend in a corner. While this setup would work a little better for us — the sound company — it would not be good for the presentation, John Legend or the client; therefore, we moved the piano stage right thus placing John center stage. After all, he is a Grammy-winner, damn it. Not only was the visual better for John, but also for the presenters, Quincy, the audience and most of all, the client.
The setup was not optimum for perfect sound regarding the band, but who cares? OK, I do, but this brings me to the point I would like to make: "Show Me The Money!"
That's right! While we go out of our way to please the artists and bands at these various events, more often than not it is never about them. As a matter of fact, while this may be hard to believe, it's not really about the sound, either. Now, I am not advocating anyone doing a half-assed job that ends up reflecting poorly on the engineer or their company, but I am suggesting that one get their priorities in order for any given gig.
Years ago, I used to work for a well-known jazz flautist who was backed by a Brazilian band playing sambas and other soft grooves. We had been doing concerts and club dates, and in the middle of touring we were called to play at a psychiatrists' convention in Washington, D.C. We arrived to find a state-of-the-art system with a huge stage, lights and sound. The room was large, and there were about 3000 psychiatrists seated at tables having dinner. The sound check had been great, but as soon as the band started their set I was told by the head honcho to turn down the volume. Though I certainly wasn't mashing my dB meter I complied with his request only to have him come back again and ask me to turn down the volume until he said stop. By the time he was satisfied with the audio level, the P.A. was as good as off. I did not turn up the volume for the rest of the show. Afterward, when I explained the situation to the bandleader, he told me that for what they had paid him it was perfectly all right with him if they wanted him to be seen and not heard. Therefore, if it was OK for him then it was OK for me, since he was the one signing my checks.
I pass on this little vignette to illustrate that a good rule of thumb is to know who is paying the bill, and to make sure that it is all about fulfilling their need as a client. While it's OK to suggest a correct way to set up a system, it's not unusual for a client to be more concerned about their decor than the sound of their event. Unless the event is truly a concert, the client doesn't want or need to know the physics of sound. If they hear the lead vocal, the PowerPoint presentation or the speech with clarity, they will consider it good sound. Believe me when I tell you that in these situations no one has ever told me to turn up the kick drum. Of course, if the band is my client and they are the ones paying me, I'll blast a kazoo solo if that's what they want.
It's easy to have the lines blur, especially when nobody really knows what's going on, but one can't go wrong if they keep focused on who is paying and what they are trying to accomplish. This holds true if you are a house engineer in a club or hall as well. After spending many years running club systems and trying to appropriate funds for better sound equipment, I learned that the owners really only care about selling beer. To the club owner, audio is a nuisance, a necessary evil that takes up valuable floor space. Therefore, it is absolutely the wrong approach trying to sell the owner on "better sound" or "state of the art" equipment, as he cannot fathom how hearing better will enhance his profit margin.
As a suggestion it might be a better line of attack to tell said proprietor that by getting this new piece of gear he will be able to make money by saving space and adding a table in the club. Approach it in this manner and just watch that blank, glazed-over stare that usually greets your discussions regarding new audio gear turn sparkly and attentive. See how quickly his calculator comes out of nowhere as he figures the huge earnings he will be making by making such a shrewd investment. Next thing you know you'll have that new space-saving digital console to replace that antiquated analog space hog. That's right. That's the ticket. "Show me the money!"
Email Baker at [email protected].
