Script Tales: The AVL Commitment: The Show

The AVL Commitment from brienlee on Vimeo.

Script Tales: “The AVL Commitment”: Part 2

Doing the “AVL Commitment: was real fun. It was the project, the people, and the place.

The Place: AVL was located in an old schoolhouse in Atlantic Highlands, New Jersey.

Atlantic Highlands is in Monmouth County, and Monmouth County is the first place along the New Jersey coastline that can actually be called “the shore.” The Ocean starts at Sandy Hook, at the tip of Monmouth County, and continues on down for the rest of the state.

atlantic

To the left of Sandy Hook, on an east-west path, is Route 36, and along that you will find Atlantic Highlands, Leonardo, and Highlands. They are located on Sandy Hook Bay, and New York City is visible from them. The most picaresque is Atlantic Highlands, with a large Marina, a restaurant filled small town, and a hourly ferry service to NYC.

I fell in love with Atlantic Highlands. I flew into Newark, rented a car and drove to the Garden Styate Parkway’s exit 117, crossing the massive bridge over the Raritan River. It was summer. It smelled like summer, and, as a New Jersey boy, this felt like summer– hot, sweaty, and begging for air conditioning (well, I was born in New York City. An outdoorsman I’m not.)

I knew the place had to be part of the story. My script called for pictures of the flags that herald Atlantic Highlands along the median on Route 36, the Marina, the Casino Restaurant, and of course, the AVL “HQ” itself.

The People: The first trip involved getting tours of HQ, the Manufacturing site on Atlantic Highlands Central Avenue, and interviewing various personnel about what they did and what made AVL different. Everyone in the multi-image game knew some of these characters from trade show booths or dealer meetings and despite the humble surroundings, they had a sort of rock star status.

Although we had three photographers on staff, Ric chose to make the next trip with me. He photographed the town, the flags, the bay, and finally, his crowning achievement  and multi-step zoom into AVL HQ and the giant logo that could be seen through the window.  To accomplish that, he climbed a tree, steadied himself between two limps, and operated the camera like a human servo-controlled zoom.

schoolhouse

The only person I couldn’t interview was the co-founder and owner of AVL, Chuck Kappenman. He was ensconced in a hotel in Palo Alto with wife Maureen (more than wife, co-conspirator, sounding board, voice of reason, and cheerleader, and a major presence at AVL trade show booths). She was pregnant with a boy on the way. They were there for the public offering of the AVL spin-off, Eagle Computers. They were waiting for their house to be finished.

Nicer people I have never met. Maureen was glad to see someone from “Jersey” (by way of Milwaukee) and we discovered we had similar roots, spending our early years in the shadow of the George Washington Bridge in the Washington Heights and Inwood.

They put me up for the night, on a pull out couch. The next day I drove with Chuck to Eagle Computers and interviewed him there.

It was there I decided I would compress all the interview quotes into perfect quotes I would write for the script. This way I would be able to intermingle narrative and documentary styles and keep the script short (I was known for writing long.)

We did a cursory interview and then went out for lunch where I really got to hear the unofficial chuck, and get insight into his thinking, which he freely shared. It was an enlightening experience, one brightened by laughs and tempered with tears. It was deep.

Corporate buyers– want to know the secret to getting the best work from your suppliers at absolutely bargain rates? Be youself, treat your suppliers like humans, and let them do their thing. Chuck did all three.

I was determined this would be the greatest thing we ever did.

The Project: Ric and I were determined to make this the best thing we had ever done together, and now we had an excellent staff to back us up. We also had gear… a Dichomed Computer Graphics system that could create cutting edge graphic animations, a large motorized Marron Carrol animation stand, two audio studios, the AVL Eagle II, and an Apple II computer with CPM card and Wordstar word processing software.

Yes, an Apple II. They were cheap, capable, and in some ways, portable. And Wordstar wasthe software I had learned word processing on, on our first microcomputer, the not-very micro called an “Archive Computer.” Control QW, anyone?”

I worked in my office late, smoking cigars and typing madly. Although we had secretaries to whom we had dictated scripts and correspondance, it seemed important to me for this to be hands on. Somehow, it kept it lean. I don’t like typing. I didn’t “patchwork” this script– I wrote it one draft, beginning to end, in one session. The night started slow, but as I got the first words on paper– the most important words, the words that set forth the goals, meaning, the whole point of the show– things began to speed up.

“Can you imagine (pause) Multi-Image (pause) without AVL?”

canyou

As I wrote those words, I heard a voice. And despite the voiceover trends of the day, it wasn’t a deep-voiced male.

It was a woman. An east coast woman. Allyson Steele.

Allyson Steele was a New York City FM Legend, a disc jockey, or host, of New York’s progressive WNEW-FM all-night show, where she held forth as “The Nightbird”. She had a smoky, distinctive voice, elegant and measured.

As I wrote, I wrote in her voice, and that did the job.

For the interviews, I wrote brief snippets based on the voices of the people who would be featured.

I spec’d in natural sound to run under scenes to add to a slightly documentary feel.

And, knowing what Ric’s graphics team was capable of, I simply called out the “Bumper” words (sectional breaks) to turn into animations.

What do you put in the visual column? Well, what the audience will see, of course. Sometimes it’s very specific, LS, MS, CU, Cutaway), sometimes it’s just a general description, leaving room for ideas and interpretation of the eyes on the scene.

And of course, ID’s, supers, graphic specifics, and fades to black or places of transition.

I delivered the script to Ric, before passing it on to the client. He loved it. Then he said, “It’s lacking some Brien Lee”.

NEXT: “Trading Places”: Part Three and Final.

 

It Was 46 Years ago Today: Pet Sounds

For four years, the Beach Boys were America’s top-selling band, cruising as it were on surf songs, car songs, romantic ballads, and incredible harmonies and arrangements. That might have been enough for most bands– and in fact, often was.

And the Beach Boys might have faded into a nostalgia act (which they later self-imposed during a 80′s nostalgia craze) except for the release on May 19, 1966 of Pet Sounds.

Although he was their main writer / arranger, this can truly be called the first “Brian Wilson” album.

Except for the the instrumental “Pet Sounds”, it would be hard to call this a carefree, upbeat, “sun, sand and surf” BB album. It took the introspective tones of “Sandy”, “In the Back of My Mind”, “Warmth of the Sun”, and “California Girls” (think about it) and brought them into a universe so layered and lush that at first you heard music, not lyrics. Then on second listening (almost always immediately after the first listening) you begin to get the message. “I’m growing up. I have doubts. I’m losing my innocence. I have dreams. I sometimes feel defeated. I sometimes want for love. I want to be somebody.”

Yes, there was “Sloop John B.”. their most recent hit. So skip that if you want.

But the rest of Pet Sounds belonged together, sequenced eternally as Side A then Side B, ending with the etnernally depressing but beautiful “Caroline, No”, actually eventually released as a Brian Wilson single 45. (I found it at Woolco in a cut-out bin).

Go to Amazon ot iTunes and buy it and download it, if you don’t already have a frayed, scratched album or previous CD reissue. It was released in mono, but there are versions (including the current release) of Pet Sounds remastered in real stereo by the genius engineer Mark Linnett who was nominated for a Grammy for the wonderful Pet Sounds Sessions boxed set.

If you want to know a person ask them their favorite recording. This is mine. I was 17 years old.

“AVSquad” History of Sorgel-Lee and Slide Era Reposted

Fifteen years ago, on the Brien Lee Creative Solutions webpage, I wrote a ten-chapter or so history of my first ten years in the a-v /slide / video business, and entitled it “The AVSquad”.

Somewhere along the line, I figured it had enough exposure and retired it.

Now, after quite a few requests (seriously) I’m re-posting it here on the Brien Lee page, under the menu item “The AVSquad (Early History).

It is virtually unchanged, which means you can view it in all its lo-res glory, and simple html goodness. I have added a few links to media files where appropriate, and I will add more as I digitize them.

Because this was written 15 years ago, I had the advantage of a mid-40 year old’s memory. So in re-reading it, I re-remembered what I had forgotten.

Big ideas are often thought of simultaneously across the country or around the world. Ric Sorgel and Brien Lee weren’t the only guys who though doing slide shows for a living would be a good idea. What makes this interesting, I guess, is how closely this reflects the state of technology and the state of some creative minds back in 1972. And let’s not forget the state of the economy back then. Pretty rotten, which as I have said many times, is the best time to start a business.

Hint, hint.

The Corporate Communications Choice: Creativity or Committee

Let me first say that I’ve been around the block. If I were a tree, I’d have 62 rings… Of hell.

And in February, I’ll have been doing this– this being creating visual communications projects– for 40 years. Slide Shows, museum events, audio-visual theater in the round, multi-screen extravaganzas, video in all its permutations, wide screen meetings, business theater, web video, interactive DVD’s, you name it. (Go ahead name it– I’ll wait—- yup, did that too.)

So, I’ve created a lot of media. Yes, that was my job. Create. Analyze a communications need, through research, meetings, reading, talking and listening, and finally, offering a solution that would accomplish the change necessary. I was right on the money about 94% of the time (that’s an educated guess; I’m guessing I was probably involved in nearly 1000 various projects throughout the years, some as a creative director, sone as writer, some hands on. Generally, because I either owned the company producing, or because I was a high level executive with the company producing, I had final responsibility for sduccess or failure. I took that pretty seriously.

But not always. Contract corporate communications– where a company executive or a communications or video department executive hires outside assistance– is a very complex thing. Some companies have media departments that produce much of what they do internally and hire out turnkey responsibility only occasionally. Others develop a relationship with a producer (or to make it even more complex, an ad agency) and rely on them to create solutions and accept responsibility, which CAN be two different things.

Corporates can choose to be their own producer– hire a writer, shooter, editor, graphics, editor, etc. Or they can hire me (alright, and thousands of other like me.)

When my partner Ric Sorgel and I began, we had the advantage of being early adopters of a technology– slide shows. But out love of the technology did not blind us to wanting to just play with the toys. We wanted to make complete, stand-alone, hey ma, we did this ourselves shows. The technology was so new (and the budgets compared to 16mm film so enticing to potential clients) that we were busy almost from the start. The clients– had no idea what we did or ow we did it, they only knew the end result. Despite our having conceived, outlined, written, shot, done interviews, created soundtracks and edited them altogether, the clients first question after applauding the show was– “What camera did you use?”

I wonder if Hemingway ever got the question, “What typewriter do you use?”

This syndrome continues to today. Avid or Final Cut? Red or Canon DSLR? Mac or PC?  Final Draft or Movie Magic Screenwriter? (or Word with two columns?)

The questions are more complicated because video has become part of the language of communications, movable type was to the book. And the tools of video are more affordable. Thus, everyone’s a director / shooter, everyone’s a producer, everyone’s a creative. And almost anything can be seen by anyone… i.e., YouTube.

But pens and pencils and typewriters were used for many things– grocery lists, love letters, invoices, instruction manuals, summons, and, yes, novels, great and not-so-great. So, was the grocery list writer considered an “author?” Is anyone with a camera or web access a “creative?”

Add to that the interactive world– iPhones, Twitter, SMS, GotoMeeting/Seminar.com, chat groups on Facebook and LinkedIn, and we can be connected all the time! We can live, therefore, in a virtual committee. I’m not talking about production teams, where everyone has a specific role.

I’m talking about virtual groupthink, where quiet time vanishes and creative ideas are ground by a group of peers into sausage. I know, you like sausage, but is it really good for you?

There is a way to be successful on both sides of the fence in corporate communications. I’ve made enough mistakes to know how. In these pages, over the next few months, I’ll share– wait, I hate that word– I’ll provide– for free– ideas on how to avoid the sausage of creativity and allow the prime grade AAA meat  to sizzle.