Tag Archives: Professionalism

Losing My Cool

I get frustrated when problems that could have been avoided crop up and make us all look dumb.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

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To be fair, it wasn’t a nuclear-detonation sort of event. Here’s what happened:

I was working an evening that involved Someone You’ve Heard Of. There was a choral performance that involved playback, and I was hands-on with that to make the FOH engineer’s life more manageable. (I handled pressing go, stop, and trimming channel levels.)

No problem, right? Easy.

Where things didn’t work out is that we had two stages going, and the schedule got a little mangled. Along with that, there was no communication about exactly what was supposed to be happening in the moment. In theory, one stage was supposed to be resetting while the other was playing, but nobody was “riding herd” on that, so the stages were starting to interlace their performances: The main stage would do a tune, then the second stage would jump in and do one if we didn’t seem to be getting to the next tune fast enough, and so forth.

This worked out to a point, and then crumbled a good bit. It seemed like the other stage wasn’t ready, so we went ahead with a tune…and then, suddenly, “Stop! Stop!” (The second stage had started up.) I yanked down the music fader and ended playback. A beat of silence, as both stages had now pulled themselves up short, and then, “Go playback.” A few seconds in, and the second stage started AGAIN.

“Stop! Stop!” said the stage manager. “STOP!” said someone in the choir, turning to look at me like I was a doofus. As I yanked my fader and cut playback for the second time, I made a clear gesture and facial expression of exasperation.

I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have lost my cool.

…and there’s no “but” coming here. I’m not going to defend doing something I shouldn’t have done. What I am going to do is to explain why it happened.

As I’ve gotten more experienced, I’m finding it more difficult to gladly suffer bad planning that leads to shoddy execution, or just shoddy execution in general. I especially hate it when that shoddy execution makes apparent idiots of me and the people around me. I double-especially hate it when, as in this case, such a thing happens at what should be an event featuring varsity-level execution from everyone. This was a high-dollar, high-powered production, and a simple lack of someone (anyone) being willing to actually manage the two stages led to all of us looking like amateurs. It was near chaos, done live in front of an upper-crust audience.

Un.

Effing.

Acceptable.

I used to be better at hiding my emotions. I was more stoic once. I don’t know if that’s good or bad in general. When that intersects with the amount of pride I take in doing this stuff in the best way possible, I sometimes react poorly. When I’m caught off-guard, that’s more likely to happen.

I don’t want to lose my cool. I want to be a rock. I’m not a rock, though, and I internalize things easily. As such, I lose my cool sometimes. It’s not a great thing, but it is a thing.


The Transcendent Experience

It’s the alignment of many variables, and is rarely produced on demand without a lot of time and effort.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

 
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One of the best, live-music vocal tones I have ever heard was produced by Katie Ainge. It was in a concrete and glass coffee shop, one of the most acoustically hostile places you can imagine. The mic was probably not anyone’s first choice; I think it was an SM48, or something similar. The PA system was nothing even close to a Vertech, VDOSC, EAW Anya, or…well, you get the picture. I think it was a Roland keyboard amplifier. There was no mixing console.

But the sound of Katie’s voice was still perfect. The basic timbre was rich and beautifully balanced alongside the intelligibility zone, with a studio-quality top end you’d swear was coming from a world-class condenser.

How was the result so perfect? It was simply because the entire setup completely fit in with Katie’s strengths and singular performance style in that room. It wouldn’t have worked quite so well for anyone else – although I’m sure it would have been reasonably okay, because the basic dial-in was probably solid.

All this is to say that “The Transcendent Experience” of sonic bliss is often driven by a whole bunch of factors lining up for a specific and very exact set of circumstances. It’s why an engineer who insists on getting “their sound” all the time will struggle with some bands (maybe even many or most acts), but then also meet the groups for whom nobody else will get results as good. The engineer’s aesthetic lines up with the band’s aesthetic like tumblers in a lock, and it’s magic when the key turns.

“The Transcendent Experience” is something that I have mixed feelings about. I enjoy it when it happens, and I think that there’s a certain worthwhile element to it. If an artist has the time and money required to go after every single factor that creates exactly the right sonic conditions for their shows, I say, go for it! At the same time, my own situation demands a certain kind of pragmatism: I need to fit my own workflow, but it’s not practical or advisable for me to cater to a niche sound. I might be running an acoustic-music show for one engagement, and then be doing rock the next. Consequently, my approach and my gear need to be generalized rather than specific. I can’t focus on making one act, or even one kind of act sound “beyond perfect.” Rather, I have to have a “works reasonably well everywhere” sort of mentality at most times. (I do enjoy working with and developing the sonic presentation of specific bands, though.)

My encouragement, then, to myself and others, is to embrace what you’re made for. You might be the person who’s going to work with the next Metallica, spending a career laboring over the perfection of the ultimate, heavy show. You might be more like me, working in a variety of situations that demand solid basics and adaptability. The key is to recognize what you’re trying to do, and not see “The Transcendent Experience” as the only measure of success. It’s important, yes, and great when it happens, yet we also have to deal with how elusive it is. Perfect is often the enemy of good, and being reliably good is the first and most achievable goal for any audio craftsperson.

 
 

 


Mercenary Maxims: Part 4

I will endure a lot – if the crew is great to work with.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

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If the Food is Good Enough, the Grunts Will Stop Complaining About the Incoming Fire.

I don’t think I can over-stress how important the “people factors” are in this business. Technical prowess, the right gear, logistics coordination…all those things are important, but they don’t stay glued together without excellent people.

Or, to present it the other way, nothing has ever made me dread a show more than the anticipation of working with unpleasant personnel. I can laugh-off most technical misadventures. I’m at peace with what audio humans can and can’t fix, from musical arrangements to acoustics. Terrible load-ins? Those can be handled. But put people who are hard to work with into the mix, and even a great show at a great venue isn’t so hot anymore. I’d rather be somewhere else.

The success threshold isn’t that high. What’s required is nothing more than general politeness, a strong sense of how the show is a “team sport,” and the ability to find the humor in all the foibles and fumbles associated with a gig. Being a guru at all things audio and lighting isn’t the make or break element, helpful though it is. Whether you can master the kindergarten-level imperatives of getting along with others is the fundamental element.

I’m spoiled, by the way. I regularly get to share workspace with some of the most professional craftspersons I can imagine. Folks who are highly proficient in technical execution while being patient, funny, kind, and helpful. We can load-out at 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning with a smile and a laugh, because we’re a team. We’re there to help each other win as a group, rather than to feed our own individual egos. We can chuckle at ourselves.

In contrast, I’ve been in more than one situation where the importance of the above has been demonstrated in the negative. I am especially put-off by folks who turn around and bark at me because I didn’t telepathically ascertain what they wanted next. (This goes over even more poorly when I’m essentially bailing them out of a tight spot.) When such a thing happens, I think a couple of thoughts to myself:

1) “Dude, the color of your chakra alignment pathways is a sort of oxidized, black Camaro, and what we need now is more of a Caribbean azure.”

2) “I hope this person never calls me again.”

There’s almost no show out there, of any difficulty, that can’t be made at least tolerable by involving great people.

…and there’s no “plush,” easy gig that can’t be made intolerable by bad attitudes and an inability to be polite.


Mercenary Maxims: Part 3

A LOT can go wrong – and you can still survive – if you have backups.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

Want to use this image for something else? Great! Click it for the link to a high-res or resolution-independent version. Original photo is a CC0 found at Pixabay: https://pixabay.com/en/aircraft-military-thunderbolt-a-10-1008284/

Close Air Support Covereth A Multitude Of Sins

Do you know why some folks stay very, very calm when a show is beset by multiple failures?

There are many possible reasons, some of them involving good internal psychology: An ability to put things into perspective and not panic is very important. At the same time, real fallback options, both physical and those based in planning, are critical when your bacon requires saving. I’ll even go so far as to say that the planning part takes the crown. Not everyone can have a whole pile of spare mics, extra cables, or even a whole console left over in case of an emergency – but everyone can take the time to think through what might go wrong.

Some production crafts-humans only ever think about what it takes for a show to happen the right way, and don’t bother to ponder the failure points. Those folks have a much steeper hill to climb when it comes to maintaining control in a tough situation, because they have no mental preparation. In contrast, the audio and lighting people who have stopped to ponder “what do we do if [insert piece of gear] fails?” have a big lead. They’ve already been to the failure point in their head. They’ve seen the mountain! So, if a problem occurs, they’re not in completely unfamiliar territory.

Thus, ask yourself: What are the critical pieces for the show? Where can you yank bits and pieces from in case one of the critical pieces fails? What if you lose half your inputs – how do you keep going? If FOH dies and there’s no spare, how would you go about creating an FOH mix from monitor world? How about the other way around? How do you rearrange things if you lose a wedge 10 minutes in? How would you repurpose a subwoofer amp to drive a pair of monitors if another amp died? If one of your lights quits all of a sudden, what other light can you quickly take “offline” to keep things symmetrical? What in your rig is the most likely thing to misbehave at a critical point?

Having thought some things through, have an internal checklist that you can run through. You want a procedure, even if only roughly outlined, that you can go through without thinking too much. This protects against panic and keeps your fixes moving at the highest speed possible.

…and know your gear! Know what extra inputs and outputs you have. Think about what you could adapt to feed something else, even if it’s not the standard method. There all kinds of unorthodox ways to survive disasters of various magnitudes, and if you’re familiar with what your equipment can do you can dream up some pretty interesting solutions.

I encourage you to have all the backups you can afford, and are able to bring with you. That includes the backups that are “merely” contingency plans sitting in your head. One the day when you encounter a failure, you will have a much better chance at being the calm and cool one in the bunch.


Mercenary Maxims: Part 2

You might have seniority on the crew, but you might not be right about everything.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

Want to use this image for something else? Great! Click it for the link to a high-res or resolution-independent version. Original photo is a CC0 found at Pixabay: https://pixabay.com/en/fairground-lights-amusement-park-1149626/

A Sergeant In Motion Outranks A Lieutenant Who Doesn’t Know What’s Going On

It’s not uncommon that I’m a part of a show crew where a person who’s technically “junior” to me ends up being the smartest person in the room. They’ll notice something I don’t, or come to a problem with a fresh set of assumptions, and advise me on a better course of action.

When I’m being smart, I listen.

Essentially arbitrary measures of authority, that is, decision-making power, aren’t always helpful in the churning, kinetic fluid that we call concert production. They do have their place, of course. I definitely find it best when there’s a singular vision for overall planning, and when you have a person where the buck very certainly stops. A crew on a gig ought to have someone available who can and will say, “This is what we’re doing” when it becomes necessary to say that.

…but to assume that the higher-ranking human is always right, no matter what, in all times and circumstances, is shortsighted. If another production professional who’s farther down the authority-tree can’t say that the right way to execute might be something different, you have a problem. Further, when things are going badly, the crew member who’s clued into the snafu and taking action is the guy or girl to be listening to. An oblivious person higher up the chain can’t do much for you, and a show in progress is all about NOW. When monitor-world is melting down or FOH just stopped behaving, the crewmember ready to act and rectify the situation doesn’t need to get permission.

When a short-timer talks, you should perk up your ears. If they’re wrong, you can explain what they’ve missed, and if they’re right, you can benefit from their insight. Also, don’t forget that “short-timer compared to you” doesn’t necessarily mean that you automatically know more or have greater wisdom about any particular thing. The person teaching you all about that new console might be a decade behind you – and they might know everything there is to know about how to operate that monstrosity, because that’s where they’ve spent their time. Pay attention.


An Open Letter To Event Planners

We need to be more clear with each other about what it takes to do things the right way.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

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Dear Event Planners,

My name is Danny Maland, and I’m what would commonly be called “a sound guy.” A/V. An audio human. Show crew. That kind of thing. I’d like to take a moment to address an issue that has caused me some problems over the years. I don’t know if it’s trending towards worse or better, but as a person with an engineering mindset, I usually pick “assume the worst” and go with it.

Now, before you mentally check out, please be assured that I’m going to stay away from snarky finger-pointing here. We’re all on the same team, and actually, I think that production has not always been good at being on the same team with you. My feeling is that we spend lots of time failing to explain our needs to you, and so assumptions get built that lead to poor outcomes. With that on the table, let me lay out the crux or nexus of this whole thing:

When it comes to the spacetime continuum, production needs a lot of it. A lot of all of it – both space and time.

There’s a significant amount of pressure out there to compress both schedules and square footage. Time is money, space is money, and both together are a lot more money. Clients like to save money, and so do I, but value-engineering live music is not something I can recommend. Any show, even one that is a repeat performance, is itself a singular event that can never be repeated. All of us have exactly one chance to get it right, and squeezing anything that supplies the endeavor (space, time, electrical power, etc.) increases the chance of a trainwreck.

You don’t want that, and neither do we.

As an event planner, I’m going to guess that you like specifics. So here are some for you to consider about space and time.

1) If you’re going to have a full band with pro-production at an event, please consider a 20 foot wide by 20 foot deep area (or about 37 square meters total) to be the bare minimum space for it all to happen inside. I know that some people will say, “That’s overkill!” but I really do mean this. Bands that are forced to be right on top of each other don’t perform to their full potential, and close quarters makes for mic-to-mic bleed that hampers a good mix. Feedback also becomes a real pain when the performers are in very close proximity to the PA system. Yes, some permanent venues have a smaller area to work with, but remember that we may be bringing everything with us. We don’t have the ability to do a fully maximized and tweaked install at the drop of a hat. We need cushion, especially when we’ve just loaded in and everything is spread out.

2) For scheduling, please have any production that’s self-contained with the music set to arrive a minimum of four hours prior to soundcheck. If you’re in a situation with no real loading dock, add another hour or two. We need lots of time to set and tune, especially when the space is one we’ve never been in before. You might think you want us to “throw and go,” but that’s not going to get you great results. I’ve gotten lucky on plenty of throw and goes, but not so lucky on others. I don’t think you want your event to be a luck-based mission. That’s too much uncertainty with too much money and reputation on the line.

The client may push on these things. The event space may try to get you to cut down. Please stand firm! We need your help to get this right.

So, that’s it. Let’s be sure to uncompress everything and work towards better results. Like I said, we’re all in this together. Our success is your success, so let’s work as a team to produce amazing things.

Best regards,

Danny


Working With People You’ve Heard Of

It’s about the same as everything else, but turned up a notch or two.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

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Last weekend, I was A3 on a show featuring A Band You’ve Heard Of. What I mean by that is twofold:

1) There were three of us on the crew. I was the “junior” guy.

2) The headliner tours nationally on a regular basis.

I mixed monitors for the locals, the A2 handled monitor world for the headliner, and I ended up mixing the last 20 minutes (or so) of the headliner when the A1 decided that we were basically home-free.

If you’re wondering what it was like, well – it was similar to everything else. Bands You’ve Heard Of aren’t some sort of exotic creature, festooned in iridescent feathers and endued with arcane magics that mortals cannot fathom. They’re bands, and subject to all the same physical laws as any other band. There are some differences though, and in my mind it tends to boil down to expectations:

Regional and national acts tend strongly towards knowing exactly what they want, know how to ask for it, and are confident in asking for it.

…and really, what that means is they’re experienced. A good local that’s been around the block will exhibit the same behaviors. They aren’t sitting up on deck, trying to suss out the requirements as they go. They’ve got a system for getting in the room, a system for building their set up, a system for getting the sound on deck squared away, and a system for figuring out if FOH is how they think it ought to be.

There’s also a very good chance that they will push your rig, and the physics of the room, to its maximum reasonable limit. This isn’t a character flaw, or a bad behavior. It’s simply another bit of skill that’s picked up as musicians become seasoned. They will have played through sound systems that are truly world-class, and they will want you to get your setup as close to that performance level as possible. It’s where their comfort zone is; What they’ve gotten accustomed to.

There are some people out there who are attitude monsters, of course. Those folks will try to take everything BEYOND any reasonable standard, and then whine up a storm when it doesn’t happen. That’s not what I’m talking about here: The pros simply want to get everything possible out of the electronics and acoustics available to them, so as to achieve the performance that they expect to give – and that their fans expect to get. If something doesn’t seem right, and it also seems like that something could be fixed to become right, Bands You’ve Heard Of will let you know. They’ll be professional and courteous about it, certainly, but they won’t just let it slide. If the vocals don’t sound quite right in mix 1, well, we’re going to dig in and see if we can’t get them to behave.

As a final point, let me say that Working with A Band You’ve Heard Of is a great way to learn that our job is to get the band’s sound, not the other way around. Local crews are rarely engaged because they will “bring something unique to the songs.” Rather, we get the nod because we can provide the necessary gear, and the expertise needed to put that gear in a state which will satisfy the artist.

Working with acts that take it to the next level is a great way for YOU to be taken to the next level, so embrace the opportunities when you get them.


The Stars Too Distant

The big stuff is the small stuff, just more of it.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

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“Are the stars too distant, pick up the pebble that lies at thy feet, and from it learn the all.”

– Margaret Fuller


What worries people about new technology in the audio business is the thought of constantly having to retrain. What worries people about making the jump to bigger and more complex applications of audio technology is basically the same thing.

I say, stop worrying. Once you get beyond a certain level of fundamentals, you already know what you need to know to find out what you’ll need to know.

Huh, you say? Okay.

Audio production is a physical science. The laws that govern it are the same at all scales and in all situations – at least on this planet. The only things that change are specific implementations. Just as I would say on the topic of mixing consoles, the important thing is to know what you want to do. If you know what you want to do, you can start asking the questions about how to get that thing done in a particular situation.

The problems come when you get through shows by way of memorization. If you don’t know why you’re doing something, you won’t have any ability to recover from an unexpected situation. If you DO know why you just connected “Thing A” to “Thing B,” then you’ve got the foundational experience necessary to bypass “Thing B” if it fails.

I was once sitting in a meeting where I was half-seriously asked if I wanted to take another guy’s spot on a tour for Someone You’ve Heard Of™:

“Would you be able to handle an M7CL?”

“It’s a mixing console, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but they all have their own quirks…”

I sat there, thinking, “An M7CL is a major console with significant market share, which means it can’t be some exotic, crystalline entity. Give me the hour or so necessary to figure out where Yamaha put the various major features, and I’ll be fine forever after.”

I mean, if the system’s engineer has the rig set up with any kind of reasonable I/O patching, the nuts and bolts of mixing a show come down to whether or not you can switch in the EQs and dynamics processors you want, and then get your channels connected to your desired outputs. Consoles generally make this pretty easy – it’s in the manufacturer’s best interests!

Of course, experience does matter. If you’ve only ever mixed two-channel gigs, and then you get dumped into a 20+ channel situation, you’re going to be in for a bit of a shock. The mental organization required is certainly greater…but the point is that the show really is NOT fundamentally different. All the same rules and limitations apply, but now your limitations have to be spread across many more inputs. Don’t memorize the sequence of events; Look for the patterns instead. The patterns will repeat themselves, with variations, at all scales. Once you start to recognize the patterns, the rules that govern audio production, the experience is rather like being able to “see the code in the Matrix.” You reach this point of being far more confident, because the unexpected is no longer devastatingly surprising.

The big stuff requires more effort than the small stuff, because it’s a lot of small, familiar stuff that has to be wrapped up into a larger package. But it’s still small stuff! The difficulties come in managing all the interactions. Practice counts, and experience at specific tasks is helpful – I’m not saying the opposite!

I’m also saying, though, that if you can plug in 3 channels you can learn to plug in 30.


That Fibber, Myself

I was never going to buy wireless gear again. Until…

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

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There is a taxonomy of falsehood. For instance, a particularly awful and hurtful falsity might be “a lie from hell.” Slightly less severe versions might be “a fib from heck,” or “a half-truth from West Jordan.” “Tall-tales from Hyrum” never really hurt anyone, as is the case for a “whopper from Utah County.”

In any case, I thought I was telling the truth when I said – to many people, repeatedly and emphatically – that I would never again put my own money into wireless audio. I was adamant. Determined. Resolute now to defend fair honor upon the glorious field of contest, I say to thee, Knights of the West, STAND!

Yeah, well, you can see how that turned out. Maybe what I said was “a fiction from Erda.” I’m not really sure.

Here’s what happened. I subcontract for a local production provider. A New Years Eve show had been on the books for quite a while, only for it to suddenly vanish in a cloud of miscommunication. The provider scrambled (thank you!) to find a show for me to do, so that I’d have a job that night (thank you!). Normally, we’d have time to handle some coordination for the show advance, but this was a situation where haste was demanded. The provider thought that I had a couple of wireless handhelds available. The show was specced, booked, and advanced. About a day and a half before downbeat, I got the input list.

A strict requirement was at least one wireless handheld. Eeeeep!

It was too late to cross-rent from one of our shared connections. My favorite place to buy or rent “right now” items was closed for inventory. I grabbed my credit card and drove to The Geometric Centroid of Strummed Instruments. (Think about it.) I was in and out in a jiffy, carrying with me a Beta58 Shure GLXD system. As much as the 2.4 Ghz band is becoming a minefield, I went with a digital system; If I was going to spend the money, I did NOT want a unit operating in a part of the spectrum that the FCC would end up auctioning or re-apportioning.

I could have gotten something significantly cheaper, but I wouldn’t have been as confident in it. My imperative was to bring good gear to the show. If I brought something from the bargain-bin, and it ended up messing the bed, that would be hard to excuse. If a better unit misbehaved, I could at least say that I did my due diligence.

In any case, the show had to go on. I’m still not a fan of wireless. I still don’t intend to add to my inventory of audio-over-airwaves devices. Even, so, you sometimes have to bend yourself around what a client needs in a short timeframe. It’s just a part of the life. Of course, after the show, my brand-new transmitter had lipstick embedded in the grille, but that’s a whole other topic…


The Q2Q Problem

Instead of being arrogant…communicate!

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

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Maybe you’ve seen this comic from Q2Q. In it, an unhelpful audio operator flatly refuses to increase a monitor send, and then condescendingly justifies himself by claiming that doing so will make the show sound bad.

To quote The West Wing: “This is why good people hate us.”

It’s been pointed out that Q2Q is a comic about theater, which has different norms for sound reinforcement than Rock And/ Or Roll. It’s been pointed out that the omnidirectional microphones commonly used in musical theater productions aren’t so great for “folding back” into monitor world, because they’re…you know…omni.

I know all that. It’s irrelevant.

What’s on display in the comic is crap behavior and poor attitude that should be unacceptable on any professional crew. Folks, if you are an audio human, your job is TO HELP PEOPLE PERFORM. It is not to get your own definition of the perfect mix at the expense of everyone else, whilst simultaneously acting like you’re the grand ruler of the universe.

If your defense for flatly refusing a change on deck because it will make your precious, FOH mix sound “bad,” I have some words for you: Cowboy the heck up. Work those channel EQs to find a decent compromise. Roll those high-passes up and create an acoustical crossover between the stage wash and the FOH PA. Bus your vocals together and insert an EQ there. Audio craftspersons are paid to deal with the difficulties involved in making as many people – sometimes with conflicting needs – as happy as possible. (Within limits, of course, but the more-monitor issue is 100% within those limits.)

Further, if you are physically unable to make a request happen, I can assure you that treating your performers with contempt for making the request is the wrong idea. Get your butt out from behind the console, and go talk to someone. Take 10 seconds to explain why there’s no more gain-before-feedback available to the system, or that you’re out of sends, or…whatever it is. It’s not their job to know all that stuff by heart – it’s yours.

…and yes, it is your job to be able to interface with the players and kindly educate them when necessary. In other words, you have to recognize them as human beings who are actually capable of understanding what’s going on. If, after doing so, you’re still getting ridiculous demands, you still have to be a professional about it.

After 22-ish years of doing this, I’ve learned many things. One of the most important things is that top-shelf production support is really not about having all the biggest toys, newest whiz-bangs, and being able to say that you’re a crack operator of [insert large-frame console here]. Those things help. They are sometimes necessary. But they matter very little without the basic elements that so many people alarmingly miss: Showing up on time. Doing what you said you would do. Caring about the show. Taking the performers seriously. Being pleasant. Treating people like actual people.

I’ve walked away from shows that I didn’t think went very well with people still being all smiles, not on the force of “mad mixing skillz,” but just being willing to give a thumbs-up and take a crack at whatever was asked for. So, be nice. And if someone asks you for more [something] in the monitors, at least try, please.