Anywhere from 3 to 15 (or more) projectors were focused on a screen, timed to music, with sophisticated graphic effects, photo sequences, title animations all happening in a careful sequence. Timing was precise; manual operation was possible (next slide, please), and even infinite loop sequences for backgrounds or logo animations used during live speaker sequences were possible.

This was in effect a video-like immersive experience for audiences. Sound came off of multi-track magnetic tape recorders, so the sound was full fidelity. Film projectors could be controlled as well. In fact, all elements of a meeting could be controlled via these computer programs– speaker support, multi-image slide shows with sound; film rolls, lights, flash bulb effects, and more.

Why does an old guy like me know computers? Well, I had to program slide shows.

I also had to find a solution to the innumerable script changes I and my clients made.

Before computers, a-v scripts were written on “copy paper” cheap newspaper typing paper that was easy to cut with a ruler. Cutting and pasting was a matter of literally cutting and pasting. Cut the paragraph you wanted to move out of the paper, past it with a big glob of glue past underneath the paragraph were it was destined to go. Because the editing process is very important, my scripts were sometimes hundreds of paper paragraphs reordered and  glued together.

But there were more miracles to come. The popular operating system at the time was CP/M. It was not meant for portable computers but AVL and others (Most notably, Adam Osborne) adopted it for portable and stationary computing. AVL’s computers were at first in a big desk hogging chassis, then reduced to a one piece screen, two drive, computer configuration, and finally, to a luggable portable.

People began putting word processing and accounting programs on their AVL’s, and the personal computer era began. And of course there was Apple. Put a CP/M card in an Apple, and you were able to use WordStar, the word processing giant of the day.

Soon we were using the computer to cut and paste, I was writing a “how to compute” column for A-V / Video magazine, and slides were big business.

But video was coming, and I jumped out of the slide apple cart and into the video fire before other slide producers and began adapting what I had learned producing slides to the art of video.

Pacing, strong soundtracks, good stories– those things never change.

“Close enough for government work.”

This was another way of saying, “Good enough for those stupid people”, or “This audience doesn’t deserve my best work, or “I want to go home.”

What it said to me about that employee or colleague was that he or she didn’t care– about the audience or their own integrity. And that shortsightedness came from a stereotype of the average viewing audience: They’re impatient, stupid, and need everything spoon-fed.

Wow.

I mean, wow.

Is there any chance that these producers were right? Simply, are audiences stupid?

Look in the mirror. Are you?

The answer is no. Just because an audience doesn’t know the difference between a Red camera and a DVcam; Klieg lights vs. Kino-flo’s, or iambic pentameter from Mother Goose doesn’t mean they don’t know what is good. They are the audience. They are the biggest group of critics around, and they know what they like.

They like stories.

In Hollywood, they approve with their dollars. In business, they approve with action, commitment, or a bit of both.

They are us; we are they– if it’s too complicated for us, its too complicated for them. If it’s intriguing to us, it’s intriguing to them.

Examples? Christopher Nolan; Orson Welles; M. Night Shyamalan. Their work challenges the audience and keeps them intrigued.

Corporate examples? Videos that don”t preach, meetings that don’t pander, speeches that reduce the PowerPoint to clear, illustrative, intriguing pictorial elements.

Why simply say “We need better customer service” in a video, when kids in a Lemonade Stand can better or more arrestingly tell “the story?”

Why preach about miscalibrated machining equipment and the resultant costs when you can produce a film-noir-like mystery?

Why have the CEO of a corporation sit at his or her desk and lecture on building brand loyalty when interviews with real customers can make that case more convincingly and more humanly?

It’s the story, stupid.

Even the stupid audience knows that.

Before he ever committed paint to canvas, he set up intricate photoshoots. These were as professional as any video or film shoot, and included casting, set design, lighting, and the directing of talent and expression.

It raises my estimation of Rockwell, perhaps because it makes clear that he wasn’t working from swipe files, but was in fact creating his own masterful photographic tableau’s. Take a look at the comparison of Rockwell photo to Rockwell painting. Each has their own genius.

He picked the right people. He directed the right expressions. He positioned them in a still life pose that rivaled the best photographers and painters.

Then, on canvas, he filled in the details, adjusted, added, enhanced, reimagined and yes, photo-realistically replicated what he had previously created in black and white.

It was quite a process. Probably not unique. But a definite unraveling of a great artistic process.

We need to imagine our own work in video and print as well as Rockwell did his. Great motion is made up of great moments.

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• Video Painting (buzzfeed.com)
• David Kamp on Norman Rockwell (vanityfair.com)

And yet, in the video business, 12 seconds is… well it’s not even a thirty second spot!

The points that I wanted to make about our services– well, that’s the point– I have to niche it up, and make a single point about a single service.

Well, here’s the latest, about interviews.

In a good documentary, the star of the interview is the person being interviewed. The interviewer is typically off-camera, and if the interviewer is really good, you’ll never see them or hear them speak. Why?

They ask questions that get full answers.

The art of the interview has been bastardized by today’s TV performer who wants not only to look handsome or pretty, but also smart. So they ask a lot of rapid fire questions. They’ve only got a minute, and they are thinking Emmy. So these questions contain major hints at the answer the interviewer is looking for.

Interviewer: Tell me about how horrible you must feel now that you’re house has burned down?

Interviewee: I feel bad.

Well, yes. But it can be worse. I often hear local cable interviewers ask the question this way:

Interviewer: The fact that your house burned down must make you feel awfully bad, doesn’t it?

Interviewee: Yes, yes it does.

Interviewer: How bad?

Interviewee: pretty bad.

Pretty bad, indeed.

In a corporate long form documentary style video, an ideal scenario is the video that can be “narrated” solely by the interviewees, through their own words, in complete and meaningful sentences. Suffice it to say that this is hard work. You must ask the right questions in the right fashion and then have the editing chops to put it together into a compelling narrative that has a beginning, middle, climax, and end. The interviewee will not be a talking head on camera, so you have no excuse to make your interviews TV style, where editing would cause unsightly jump cuts (therefore giving the producer an excuse to edit less. More gross profit!)

Some producers will pretend that TV style interviews are the right way to sell business-to-business products and services. That’s ridiculous. Looking at two talking heads blathering on without b-roll, music, or story is an absolute waste of a company’s dollars. That producer has no intention of working for his or her money.

We believe in interview style videos, just as surely as we believe in unstaged actualities to convince audiences of a product’s quality or a company’s intent or philosophy.

Yes, it takes longer, and it costs a bit more. But the shelf life can be very long, and the impact multi-tiered. Its a technique that works at meetings, or on the web. Consider this technique for your next video.

An example can be found by clicking on the image below.

Excerpt from Corporate Founder Story Video

Video installation “Spiegelbilder” TEST from urbanscreen on Vimeo.

Take a look at their other installations as well.

But in the summer of that year, we were asked by Ric’s friend Mike Kiefer (with some influence from Ric’s Dad) if we’d like to produce a slide show touting their company, Kiefer Corporation. A real corporate project! Kiefer sold commercial kitchen impliments and did custom stainless steel fabrication, and they wanted something to show at a trade show.

The answer was yes, the budget cheap, and I had my first real script to write. No relying on other people’s voices, this had to be written for a narrator. And since the budget was cheap, we couldn’t afford– and for that matter, didn’t know– an announcer.

My job was to write the script and produce the soundtrack to which the slides would be edited. And, I agreed, I would read the narration as well.

From an entrepreneurial standpoint, this was perhaps the critical moment in my development as an audio-visual person. My first script, my first narrative soundtrack, and my first (and I hoped, only) voice-over read. How I handled the assignment would define our house style for years to come.

I was a mimic in those days. I did impressions of Ed Sullivan, Jack Benny, George Burns, Kirk Douglas, Johnny Carson…. wait! Johnny Carson, Johnny Carson… Ed McMahon!  Budweiser. Clydesdales. Tonight Show Commercial Reader. Ed McMahon was the answer.

Short sentences, a good theme line, a low key personable approach. Ed McMahon didn’t write what he read, but he made it sound like it. I worked on the script, maybe 3 or 4 pages,  and I remember the final line– it was a direct rip-off of some Budweiser commercial read by McMahon:

” Kiefer Corporation. All… You’ll ever need.”

No explanatories, like “This is Kiefer Corporation, your leader in kitchenware.” No verbs. No complete sentences— and a dot dot dot to guarantee the pause in the right place. Hell, even I could read that, it was so clean.

Which I did. We lived in a one bedroom apartment which was distinguished by the fact that it had one closet for the entire apartment, in the back corner of what passed for a living room.

In that closet was all our earthly possessions, which, given that this was Wisconsin, included a bunch of winter coats. I set up my tape recorder outside the closet, fished the mike cable under the door, attached the Shure SM57 microphone, started the tape recorder and closed the door. I stood in between the coats to insure no reverb or reflections, and also to help give some bass boost to my voice. And I read. And reread. Until I could hear Ed McMahon.

I never read professionally again, but what I had done that day worked beautifully. It helped me define the words I would write, the music I would use, the style of our shows, and the pace of our shows.

It made us a real company, with a real industrial demo to show. It helped put us on the map.

Thanks, Ed McMahon. Your were all we ever needed.

Tribute videos are how I got my start. (See “AVSquad” in the links.) And they remain the most satisfying of the work that we do. There is nothing like telling a people story.

A lot of people are into video these days, some as a hobby, some as a potential profession, some as part of their job duties. There is a perception that video is easy, thanks to point and shoot miniature cameras, computer editing, and thousands of tipsters on-line telling you how easy it is and selling something– usually hardware.

But hardware is only part of the problem, and hardware and editing software are covered pretty readily via training web sites, DVD lessons, and more.

No one is training people on how to tell a compelling story. How to interview, how to move pictures, how to choose music, how to pace videos, how to get a visceral reaction from an audience!

That’s where “Tribute Videos for Love & Money” comes in.

Tribute Videos for Love & Money

It’s an ebook that details my communications beliefs and systems. If you like samples of my work, and you want to know how and why certain creative decisions were made, this is the place to start. It concentrates on the “Tribute” people story type of video, but frankly, if you can tell that kind of story, there isn’t much you won’t be able to do as you grow your capability or career.

For more information, go to videostoryschool.com.

I hope you like it and find it valuable.

No, I’m not looking– but since I have done my share of hiring in the past few decades I am always curious as to the expectations set by help wanted ads for creatives.

Let’s forget for a second the impossible expectations and laughable language used in such ads (“Must eat, breath and live advertising”; “You don’t think outside the box, you are the box”, etc.

What interests me is that in a video and web driven world, creativity is often defined not by writing, design or storytelling capability, but instead by the software and hardware employed.

This ad said (paraphrased), “Video producer wanted to produce web videos for our catalog pages and web site. Knowledge of Adobe Premiere, Photoshop, and After Effects required.”

Uh… why? Does a knowledge of these particular programs guarantee that you know the basics of design, writing, creative direction, photography, photo touch-up, shooting and editing?

This was followed by “Windows platform preferred.”

I can see the Windows platform (or Mac platform) preference as perhaps reasonable, since the company may have standardized on and invested in plenty of hardware that is single platform centric. That’s a business decision.

But eliminating perhaps 70% of your creative applicants because they use some other software than what you like or know is like a curator at the Met, MOMA, or Guggenheim who only hangs paintings that use a #12 Kolinsky Red Sable Art Brush.

The talented and driven can and will adapt to almost any software or hardware. That’s easily learned. What can’t easily be learned is what is done with the tools, whether they are using typewriters, yellow legal pad, or Final Cut Pro or Microsoft Word or Final Draft.

It’s the story, stupid. And that’s the basis on which you should hire.