In my last post, I talked about a schematic that I cobbled together to build a contact mic preamplifier and impedance buffer. The point being to let me use cheap, home-made contact microphones (high impedance devices) with a professional mic level input (lower impedance device). Well, I finally got around to starting the prototype circuit on my breadboard. You can see what I’ve done so far in the image above.

I mentioned previously that the transistor specified in the orginal schematic, an MPF102, isn’t that easy to get a hold of…unless you want to order directly from Taiwan. I wasn’t really interested in waiting the amount of time it would take to ship from overseas (even though it took me a few weeks to actually start building the circuit), so I did some research that led me to think the NTE451 might be a reasonable subsitute.

So, the first order of business is to test the high-impedance preamp portion of the circuit with the replacement transistor. No sense in adding on the transformer side of the circuit yet, as that would just leave more for me to test if something didn’t work. Here’s my full schematic again. I built everything from the 10uf capacitor to the left, omitting bits like the power switch and the 1/4″ jack…they just weren’t necessary for this test.

Instead of wiring in the jack and using full cables, I just used breadboard jumpers and alligator clip leads to connect the piezo disc to the circuit. I did something similar to connect the output to a small, First Act, battery powered amplifier. Breadboard jumpers, to clip leads, to the tip/sleeve plug of a short instrument cable. I used the battery powered amplifier for safety purposes. I have only a basic understanding of what I’m doing here, and I didn’t feel the need to give myself any nasty shocks (no matter how minor). There are quite a few exposed electrical points here. ;)

I was happy to find that the circuit worked. I didn’t do extensive testing, just checked out how it sounded on different surfaces that I could tap with my finger, and a quick test on an ukelele. I didn’t bother recording the amp’s output, because it picks up TONS of radio interference in my home (there’s a lot of signal flying around this area). The next step is to make things a little more stable before I add in the transformer and test the circuit with my recorder: namely, connecting the piezo disc to a cable and using a jack instead of the clip leads. But the transformer/recorder test will be shortly after that.

For a while now, I’ve been wanting to build my own contact mic preamp and impedance buffer. The problem has been that I’m still basically an electronics neophyte. I’ve got a reasonable understanding of many of the underlying concepts…I’m not going to get completely lost if someone starts talking about “imaginary numbers” and phase interactions. I get all of that on a conceptual level, but when it comes to understanding how circuits are actually designed…? Forget it. There are some things that are finally starting to click into place, but I’m still way out of my element.

There’s a big disconnect for me in how I want to use the finished circuit…and how I even get there to begin with. The general idea is this…I want to build a quality preamp that I can use with home-made piezo disc and film contact mics. I want the pre-amp to be decent, but I want to be able to use transducers that I can put in precarious situations without worrying about the cost of replacement. I also want to use it with a professional (+4dBu) input recorder (i.e. my 744T). You can find a plethora of schematics online to build cheap preamps for use with high-impedance inputs (guitar amps, etc.), but very few for the lower level of impedance we have on professional gear. I had a light bulb go off not too long ago when I was browsing through the Jensen Transformers website…a direct input box is exactly the kind of impedance buffer I’m looking for!

You see, Jensen has a transformer designed specifically for use in a passive DI circuit…they even have several schematics for building your own DI using this particular transformer. This seemed like the perfect solution to me. Take a decent contact mic preamp schematic and feed that to the input of the DI schematic. While not cheap, the impedance matching section of this combined circuit is completely passive. That means I don’t really have to deal with all of the calculations that would be necessary to combine two active circuits…calculations I’m sure I’ll screw up.

So, that schematic at the top of this post is what I’ve come up with. I’m using the preamp schematic found on Colin Cunningham’s blog over at Make magazine with the basic DI schematic laid out in the JT-DB-EPC data sheet. Take a look at the frequency response data for that transformer. Very nice, and the 3dB roll off point for the high end is at 100kHz…hellooo high res. recording. The MPF102 transistor indicated in Colin’s blog is a little difficult to find (unless you’re ordering it directly from China, Thailand, etc.). So after a little research around the internet, I’ve decided to replace it with an equivalent model that people seem to be having luck with in basic audio applications (the NTE451). The whole circuit will be powered with one 9-volt battery.

Ultimately, I’d like to build 2 complete channels into a single case. I’m going to start out with a test of just one for now, and I’ve ordered all of the components necessary to build the prototype circuit on a breadboard. I’ve also wanted to build something similar for use with disposable electret microphone capsules. So I may test out a circuit for that purpose while I’m at it. I’ll post progress, and any results, as I move through this project.

This conversation usually starts with a passive aggressive attempt to blame me for the issue. While that’s certainly a possibility, I’ve found that, more often than not, it’s an issue with Final Cut. Obviously, due dilligence requires that we apply “Occam’s Razor.” From the editor’s perspective, the simplest answer is that I am at fault. Here are the conditions you have to clear before you blame it on Final Cut…and, ultimately, the editor:

1. Is the audio drifting consistently out of sync, or only out in certain scenes? [If it's drifting...that's a check mark.]
2. Were you and the editor using the same frame rate? [Yes? ...check]
3. If you are using an external sync source, were you locked to the correct reference type? [Yes? ...check]
4. Did you have pull-up/pull-down enabled; either for the session or for the bounce? [No? ...check]

If you’re confident you did everything right on your end, and that there aren’t any other factors that could be contributing (sample rate a possibility?), then it probably is Final Cut. I should clarify that this is an issue with version 7 (maybe 6 too, I can’t remember…it’s been a while). I have no idea if the problem occurs with FCPX. I haven’t worked with anyone using that version yet; and likely never will.

The problem is typically drifting sync. A very early indicator is if you’ve been working with a session that is the same exact length as the Final Cut Sequence; the audio will be either shorter or longer than the full sequence upon import after it’s gone back to the editor. The program begins in sync and slowly drifts, as if it were a sample rate or frame rate issue. In truth, it is. What commonly causes this, is a mismatch of system settings in Final Cut. The sequence is set to one frame rate, while the overall Final Cut default frame rate is set to another. Let’s use 23.976 (sequence) and 29.97 (Final Cut default) as an example. Guess which setting Final Cut uses when it imports media?

If you guessed the “default” setting, congratulations. You’re correct. One would think that an audio file that is exactly 30 “real” minutes long is 30 minutes no matter what, but that’s not the case. Final Cut appears to try and compensate for frame rate discrepancies on the timeline (because there can be frame rate information in the metadata header). Final Cut can, after all, have mixed format media on a timeline.  [Which is a horrible way to work, for many reason...but beyond the scope of this article.]

The way to correct the problem that occurs on import is to set the Final Cut default settings to match the frame rate of the sequence the media will be imported to. The real problem is that when Final Cut imports a piece of media, it re-writes the metadata in the header file! [...at least, it does with audio files...]

Whoever thought that was a good idea needs a firm, “boot to the head!” If the settings aren’t matched prior to file import, the possibility exists that Final Cut will completely garble the metadata in the header section…because any subsequent attempt to use that file, even if it is removed from the project and re-imported from its existing hard drive location, gives the same result…drifting sync. That file has been permanently corrupted! The editor needs a fresh copy.

The file the editor originally imported needs to be deleted from his or her system. Load a fresh copy from your workstation. If you’re using a shared server, then hopefully the editor copied it to a second location before importing it. If they didn’t create a second copy, hopefully you didn’t bounce directly to that shared server (meaning, you still have an uncorrupted file on your system somewhere). If you did bounce to the server, then you need to create a brand new file…enjoy that extra bounce time.

Once the editor has made the frame rate change in the settings of Final Cut, importing the new uncorrupted audio should solve the issue. I’ve run into this so many times where I work that I stopped counting months ago. We’ve had one editor who has consistently been able to correct the issue. [I should note that it never occurs in her projects.] This is the solution we’ve narrowed it down to. It works almost every time.

There’s been a small number of occassions when the offending Final Cut sequence has to be moved to an entirely different system; in fact, it’s only happened twice. Both times, the frame rate setting and a fresh file solved the problem once on the new system.

I’ve seen  other people mention this problem online in the past. This problem could also pop up when importing original production files. So, keep an eye out for that too. I’d have posted the solution earlier, but I only confirmed it this week. Hope it keeps you from pulling your hair out in the future.

UPDATE:

Apparently, there’s another way to deal with this issue. According to Charles Dayton, supplying the audio as a Quicktime file can eliminate the issue entirely. Thanks for the infor Charles!

Yeah, I know. It’s only a matter of time before people stop using FCP7 entirely. To be honest…I can’t wait ’til it happens.

The first person I have to thank is Christen Bach, for pulling me onto his project, “The Animation Tag Attack.” It was a crazy and fun challenge, and it’s won a slew of awards so far (one of them for sound design thank you very much)!

Damian Kastbauer continues to give me far more credit than I deserve. He’s the one who connected me with Game Developer Magazine…you know, the people who published my crazy ramblings about approaches for the use of loudness metering in video games. That and he’s always fun guy to wax conversational with.

AES was a blast, as always, but I need to thank my fellow panelists for making sure I didn’t look and sound like an idiot up in front of a hundred or so people. Kyrsten Mate, Elise Baldwin and Nathan Moody were great to hang out with and made that presentation far more successful than I could have on my own. Thanks to all of you. [Did I mention that Nathan also designed that kick-ass logo at the top of the page?]

The last round of big thanks goes to the other guys over at Designing Sound. Jack, Varun, Mike, Jake, Peter and Colin…it’s awesome working with you guys, and I can’t wait until I actually get to meet some of you in person for a change! …well, I’ve already met Colin at least. [You can find information on how to follow those gents over at DesigningSound.org]

Of course, this community we’re a part of is amazing beyond compare. It’s a beast that consumes everything in it’s path…just ask all the people who showed up to the AES drink up back in October…and the other (very sizable) group that couldn’t find us in the bar! [I still don't know how they missed us...lol] I keep meeting new and awesome people literally every week. That, probably more than anything, makes me excited for this year.

Now to get some edifying content on this site again… ;)

In my last article, I talked about Semiotics and encouraged sound designers and editors to think of sound for picture as a language; or, at least, as a component of the language used by any given film. I’d rather not rehash the specific elements of Semiotics that were discussed. There are several ideas that I’m going to assume you’ve read and are familiar with as I proceed through this article. If you haven’t read that original article, I suggest you go do so now. The examples I’m about to discuss will have more meaning for you if you do.

I mentioned two possible approaches to applying signification in the development of a “sound language” for a project. The first is to work with existing signification, and the second is to develop your own; however, these do not have to be mutually exclusive. Both can contribute to your particular piece’s dialect. Remember that I am describing language as merely a “code” to convey meaning. So, meaning needs not be limited to ideas or thoughts. As such, let’s take a look at three examples of sonic code work, language, as used in moving picture.

…and why not begin with an example that straddles the line between pre-existing and invented signification. Here’s a brief clip from the recent Battlestar Galactica series, produced for the Sci-Fi (now Sy-Fy) channel.

Here we have Commander Tigh reacting to a sonic element that is simultaneously music and sound design. The tonal element is a snippet from a larger piece of music composed by Bear McCreary, which is actually a rendition of Jimi Hendrix’s “All Along the Watchtower.” So, this is one of those “artful” uses of existing signification that I referred to in the previous article. This sonic element, which becomes a recurring element in the show, references Hendrix’s song without ever actually revealing itself as being a cover (until the lyrics are quoted in an episode that is). That concealment of reference is why I say it ventures into invented signification. By the time the reference is exposed in the show, we’ve adapted to it’s use and are able to detach from it any meaning that we might connect with the original song.

This particular example is interesting, because it is an overt signifier. Unlike other examples that we’ll touch on shortly, we are intended to perceive and attend to this sonic element. It helps us tap into the mental state of several characters, and assign a connection between them. Even when that connection is confirmed, the little musical phrase continues to represent their confusion and identify them as something apart from their surroundings. When they are revealed to be Cylons, it continues to hold its meaning that they are something apart from the rest. Even amongst the Cylons, they are different. This little refrain helps to maintain that separation and connote a sense of mystery.

Let’s move on to some examples of signification that is entirely diegetic…and for these examples I can let some people speak for themselves.

How about we start with Toy Story 3? I’m going to reference an interview with Tom Myers, Michael Semanick and Al Nelson on DesigningSound.org; conducted by Miguel Isaza and Jake Riehl.

MIGUEL: Given the toys’ size in relation to the human world, how important was the sound POV of our heroes? What realistic sounds had to be embellished to convey their size or perspective?

TM: With Gary Rydstrom we continued the conceit that when the toys are interacting with humans, (when they are inanimate objects), they should sound smaller in scale compared to the human “real” world. But when they are interacting with each other, and walking and talking, they have a larger, almost human scale to their sounds. We always embellished sound when a threat was implied, especially in the finale scenes with the garbage truck, bulldozers, conveyor belt, shredder, claw, etc.

AL: We had creative license during certain toy POV scenes to even go over the top a bit. For example when Big Baby is doing that creepy march towards Woody, Bullseye and the aliens, we added low end sweeteners to his footsteps. We also added some rumble and actual diesel truck sounds to some of the RC trucks patrolling to add a sense of tension and danger.

In this example, we have a set of codes that are implying both the perspective of the diegesis and the conditions of that diegesis. For me, the mention of, “scale compared to the human ‘real’ world,” is the more important idea in that response. This approach allows the viewer to see the toys as the dual entities that they are: both actual toys and also living emotive beings. It is a subtle bit of characterization that has tremendous impact on the story. Imagine if the sounds of the characters did not change with the perspective. Suddenly they remain living being, even while they’re being abused by toddlers in Sunnyside Daycare. Whether the audience makes that connection or not, it has an impact on the tone of the film…and prevents it from going into a darker place.

For our final example, I’m going to direct you to the words of Randy Thom in the discussion of sound design for Cast Away that we hosted on DesigningSound.org. Head to the recording of the discussion here, and jump to the thirty-eight minute mark (38:10 for the exact beginning of the lines I want you to listen to. [You don't need to listen past 40:52, but feel free to listen to the rest of the discussion at you leisure, if you haven't already. ;)]

Notice what Randy says there about “following an event.” In this case, the meaning (the signified) in our code is an event. Allowing the audience to witness an entire visual+auditory process creates a tool that can be used at a later time in the film. Now, it’s possible to imply that process at another time using just the sound (or vice versa). As Randy says, the audience is likely to recall the images of the waves anytime they are given in the soundtrack (particularly if they are in the foreground of the sound). This allows the visuals to focus on the character’s face or action, while relating it to those waves.

It’s also important to note the context in this situation he’s presenting. He talks about arranging for these capabilities early on. In the very least, some of this discussion needs to take place during or before the edit. This does not mean it’s impossible to discover and work with these opportunities later on in the process; not all of us are always lucky enough to have the director’s ear that early on. But being aware of the potential certainly gives you a chance.

Honestly, that idea extends to this whole idea of applying Semiotics to a film’s sound…or game’s, television show’s, or radio drama’s. The earlier this “language” can be built into a piece, the more opportunities for artful sound usage it will present. Start building that language as soon as you can. Fluency in any language requires use, and that applies to all personalities involved…director, contributor, and even viewer.

If you enjoyed this pair of articles…and you haven’t already…why not check out earlier articles in this series: Deprivation and Barriers Part 1 and Part 2.

Let’s start off with a disclaimer.

I am no expert in linguistics and semantics, nor would I consider myself truly conversant in the many critical models employed in film theory/criticism. Semiotics was something waved in front of my eyes a couple of times during undergrad (where I did not studio audio or film, by the way), then explored in much greater depth during a course in my graduate program. For this article, I’ll be falling back to some of the general concepts of Semiotics. They are the points that have truly stuck with me over the years, and they easily apply to many facets of media. They can help explain the significance of events in a narrative, the choice of words in dialog, or the functions of shot composition and sound design.

So, what the heck is Semiotics? To be honest, it’s a lot of things…

This article will be focusing primarily on some of the concepts developed by Ferdinand de Saussure. Specifically we’ll be dealing with the idea of “Signifier” and “Signified.” The notion of common historical acculturation and habituation will also come into play (though I can’t say I know if Saussure is responsible for that idea as well).

At the most basic level, you could think of the signifier as the pointer file in your project that tells your DAW which audio file to play. In this case, the audio file is the signified. The signifier/signified relationship is a code system we use everyday to convey and understand meaning. It’s language. Your DAW understands that a pointer file really represents the physical location of a set of data. The process is the same when I tell you to imagine a chair. The word “imagine” tells you to picture in your mind’s eye the appropriate piece of furniture indicated by the word “chair.” Notice in that example that I’ve really only used signifiers to communicate abstract concepts.

You might argue that a chair is a physical object, but “chair” is really more of a category. It’s highly unlikely that any two people reading this article imagined the exact same chair. The chair you imagined is probably a physical object you encounter in any of the number of spaces you occupy in your life. “Chair” calls up a string of properties in your brain that associates the word with an item that fulfills those properties. So, here we all are…sharing an understanding of the word “chair” and the function it implies, but holding discrete interpretations of its physical meaning…which brings us to our next point.

The connections that exist between signifier and signified are culturally dependent. If you were to read the word “voiture” with no prior understanding or exposure to the French language, you would make no connection to the signified…much the same way “car” would confound someone perfectly isolated from exposure to English. But this concept of cultural connection extends down to a more granular level. Your physical location and the people around you exert just as much influence in the connections between signifier and signified. [Did you just make the connection that it affects the language you speak?] Consider some of the cultural language differences between Britain and the U.S.A; both English speaking countries. One extreme example is the word “fag.” In Britain it’s something you smoke. In the U.S.A. it’s a derogatory and discriminating term used by insecure idiots.

So the connections, and there can be many, between signifier and signified are context and culturally dependent. The extension of that idea is that those connections are also continuously in flux. Additionally, meaning is not an asset exclusive to written and spoken language. Actually, language isn’t even necessarily restricted to written and spoken words. Meaning can be conveyed through actions, gestures, images, sounds or even situations. What gives these different signifiers meaning, a connection to the signified, is the shared cultural history of a society. Signifiers point to additional meanings or take on entirely different ones, while new meanings and concepts in need of signifiers are continuously developed.

Hopefully, you’re starting to see how this applies to sound design.

I’m of the belief that sound design is an informed process. Let’s pause to look at a definition.

Design
verb (used with object)

1. to prepare the preliminary sketch or the plans for (a work to be executed), especially to plan the form and structure of
2. to plan and fashion artistically or skillfully
3. to intend for a definite purpose
4. to form or conceive in the mind; contrive; plan
5. to assign in thought or intention; purpose

[from dictionary.com]

Without the thought process, the planning, the meaning behind it…a sound remains nothing more than a random auditory effect placed against a visual. It is far more appropriate to think of sound as a form, or an element, of language in a piece (though I admit that this is far easier to coordinate in early/pre-production than to start in post).

There are two ways to deal with signification in sound design.

The first is to work with signification that is already inherent in a culture. The oh-so-frequently heard red-tailed hawk used to convey a sense of open and wild spaces, the sound of a heart-beat to convey tension or concentration, a minor 3rd chord to suggest melancholy or sorrow. Notice that these are conventions that have been used many times over the years. To use them without a sense of self-reference now is considered somewhat lazy or trite, but they are easily understood thanks to their historical usage. Society and culture (at least some of those around the world anyways) have been habituated to them as signifiers and can readily derive their meaning. More artful uses reference these signifiers, implying the same meaning without the use of those same tired signifiers. There are dangers with using existing, well known, signifiers though.

Besides the aforementioned “overused” issue, this approach presents a potential problem…it may pull in additional unwanted meanings. Because these significations are accepted thanks to historical habituation, it means they may have acquired additional specific meanings beyond the general/original meaning. The red-tailed hawk can detract from the grandeur of the shot in a dramatic film if it causes one to think of all the times it’s been used in comedies recently. [A crude example, but it illustrates the point.] This additional meaning problem is one reason why most productions opt for new custom music, rather than using well known pop music. These new meanings bring in outside associations that can cause a shift in perspective for the viewer. On the flip side, early trailers for new films often use music and sounds from older, popular, films in the hopes of creating that connection to generate more excitement. What works well for advertising rarely works well for narrative, though. And working with existing signifiers requires a careful balancing act.

The safer, though perhaps more difficult and satisfying, method for working with signifiers in sound design is to develop a new “language” for each production. Remember that signification is a function of exposure, a collective agreement by a culture or society that connects signifier and signified through repitition over time. This means that it is possible to attach meaning to sounds exclusively with the audience during the course of a piece. The more instances an audience has to observe the connection, the more ingrained it will become. In his book, Thinking, Fast and Slow, psychologist Daniel Kahneman states that stimulus in our environment affects the way our brain processes information (in immediate ways). He also says that our minds have the predilection for finding patterns (frequently, even where they do not exist). [The guy has a Nobel Prize. I'd like to think he knows what he's talking about.] This gives sound designers the opportunity to subtly push the audience, twist their perception, and add or clarify meaning through the use of sound.

The difficulty is in the fact that the signifiers have to be used enough for the brain to make the connection, but without creating repition that causes the viewer to disregard them. Habituation to specific sounds makes us stop attending to those sounds; unless they occur in a situation where they normally wouldn’t. That’s the trick, finding ways to habituate the viewer to the signification without habituating them to a specific sound.

Many people naturally begin to apply this process when brought on to a new project. We think in terms of sound symbolism, try to reveal facets of characters by the classes of sounds we attach to them, affect mood and tone, and look for ways to distract and enlighten the audience. My only goal for this topic is to help you understand that you are constructing a language of sound…and maybe push you to run with that idea.

Part 2 of this topic will look at a few examples soundtrack semiotics in action. Keep an eye out for it.

…and days I REALLY love my job!

Honestly, there are few other professions where you might as well be encouraged to mangle and destroy. For that matter, if you have something you’re going to throw out anyways, why discard it in one piece.

Someone left this perfectly good (though admittedly non-functioning) computer monitor out on the curb  for trash collection a while back. [It was also intact, but I'm sure you assumed that already.] Mine!

I didn’t get video of the splitting maul hitting the monitor (I was the one swinging), but my coworker and I did take advantage of the fact that we still had a relatively intact monitor housing full of broken glass.

Mics used included a Schoeps CMIT5U Sennheiser MKH60, Sennheiser MKH40 and an AKG SE-300B with the CK93 hyper-cardioid capsule. I do love “stereo” windscreens, because they’re pretty flexible. There’s nothing that says you must use them for M/S setups; they can be handy for when you want multiple mics aimed at the same source but are running out hands/stands. I used the one in the video to house the MKH40 and the AKG.

Here’s a composite of some of those mics for that recording:

I also had a dead microwave laying around at home that needed getting rid of. It seemed like a good time to do something about that too.

Destruction is fun…and in the case of sound editors, sometimes productive. Here’s a composite of a microwave impact:

And because I feel like it, here’s a download link [right-click and save] for those two sounds embedded in the page. Let me know if you use them anywhere fun.

While the efficiency of our workstations has increased exponentially thanks to digital audio, our opportunities for serendipity…those moments that make of us think of the scene from a different perspective…have inversely decreased. It’s that opportunity to approach from another, sometimes ludicrously disconnected, perspective that enhances our creativity. How do we bring some of those “happy accidents” back into our workflow in this digital age?

The answer, of course, is that we have to create the opportunities ourselves. In the hopes that you’ll share some of your methods with me, I thought I would share two of mine.

The first, is in the image above.

I have two decks of playing cards; one blue, one red…and I’ve labeled every card that’s in them (including the jokers). The blue deck is a collection of words that describe the origin of a sound. I tried to cover as many categories as possible. There are onomatopoeia, elemental words like fire and water…mechanical, think things like servos and engines…weather…the list goes on. The red deck is a set of adjectives to describe the specifics of a sound: large, dissonant, stuttering, angry, etc. I pull one card from the blue deck, and anywhere between one and three cards from the red deck. Then it’s off to the races to see what I can create using those restrictions/guidelines.

There are two different times that I like to pull out these decks. The first being if I’m stuck.

If “writer’s block” becomes a problem, it’s usually because my focus has become to narrow. When I get to a point that I’m not happy with anything I’m trying, it’s a good sign that I need to step back and re-evaluate. I always try a few combinations when the decks come out. Very often, I’ll stumble across a design that I like for my trouble spot. Even if I don’t, however, the exercise is good for expelling my original approach to the problem…you know, the one that wasn’t working. Trying something seemingly unrelated gives me some fresh perspective to work through the issue.

The other time I occasionally pull these out is at the beginning of a project. The beginning of a project is your opportunity to make some controlled mistakes. Here you can take risks aesthetically and still recover from them. If I don’t have any strong feelings about a design direction for a particular element of the project, I’ll work through a couple of these random approaches to see if anything sparks my interest. I don’t do this every time. If I have particularly strong ideas from the outset, there’s less impetus to pursue this. When I do, I’ll toy around in the amount of time available to me; which, naturally, varies from one project to another. Anything that helps eliminate choices and focus your approach can be a good thing. So, if all I discover in this set of experiments is what I don’t like, what I don’t want to do, then I consider it time well spent. It’s helped me inform my aesthetic approach for the piece.

My other tool is something that a lot of sound designers and effects editors mention: actively listening to your environment.

I add a little specificity to this exercise though. When I’m soaking in the soundscape of my surroundings, I’m looking for unexpected synchresis. [We can thank Michel Chion for that term. If you're not familiar with it, check out a quick description at filmsound.org.] To get the most out of this exercise, I typically need to be in a relatively active area. There needs to be a lot of physical activity, so that there is a wide sample of sounds to attend to while watching what people, animals and equipment in the area are doing.

An example of something that recently caught my attention is a bird and luggage. I was waiting for a train at one of the local above ground metro stations. A pair of birds were hanging out in the station, flitting back and forth between the platform (looking for scraps of food) and a nearby wall. About 50 ft. away was a man with a carry-on suitcase; wheels, extending handle and all. He happened to start walking away from me, pulling his wheeled suitcase over the warning strip marking the edge of the platform, at the same time that one of the birds flew back up to the wall. He had also immediately passed behind a different wall. So, my vision and some of the frequencies from the wheels over the warning strip were obstructed. The natural filtering of the environment (distance, occlusions, etc.) gave the wheels a quality that, while in no way could be mistaken for bird flaps, just seemed to fit with the movement of the bird’s wings. This perfect synchronization happened only once, but the birds continued to fly back and forth from the wall as the man continued his travel down the length of the platform…giving me time to absorb the effect. The combination really struck me. They worked so well together, and I doubt ever would have come up with the combination on my own.

I’m currently considering a more controlled approach to this idea; purchasing an mp3/portable audio player (no, I’ve never actually owned one), and loading it with a compressed version of my sound effects library. Then I could put it on shuffle, sit down in a busy area…or even a quiet one…and see what happens.

These are some of the things to I do to help me maintain my creative juices. Do you have any habits or techniques for injecting a little bit of randomness back into your work? If so, please share them in the comments section.

1-4 are available on Youtube, and the videos are embedded after the break.

THE MIX

I turned this animated short into a beast of a project. I was working on this freelance at home, with plans to use the systems at work (of-hours and weekends) to finish up the full 5.1 theatrical mix. In its pure edit form, not even my Pro Tools HD3 system at work could handle the full session. I had to compact the session by building pre-mix stems. Even then, I was approaching the limits of what the system could handle (granted, it was probably because I added a bunch of sounds afterwards for the opening title…and was too lazy to work them into and re-bounce those stems…that and I had a bunch of processing going on in the mix). [The image above is the system usage window from the 24/48 final mix session.]

One of the interesting things about this project, was that Christen didn’t hear any of the sounds I had cut until I was nearly ready to mix. Because of the asset issues mentioned in the previous article, I was reluctant to color his reactions to the audio by letting him listen to something that was missing key elements. Christen put a tremendous amount of faith in me, which I am very appreciative of. The first time he listened to my work, was when we were waiting for one last piece of music for the final segment.

Because he didn’t have access to a surround monitoring system, almost every version he reviewed was a stereo down-mix I made using Neyrinck’s SoundCode Stereo LtRt. While we were waiting for that final piece of music, I sent him a file with everything I had thrown into the piece so far. Nothing was truly mixed, only placed in rough relation to other elements. I told him that this file didn’t even qualify as a rough mix…because it wasn’t…and that I wanted him to focus on the sound selections. I wanted to make sure that everything he wanted covered actually was, that the sounds I had chosen had the right feel, and if he felt there were any pacing issues or holes that needed filling. The goal here was to simply review the edit.

He took a listen and got back to me with a list of notes. Many of the points he mentioned were mix ideas. I took that as a good thing. It gave me a general idea of what he wanted out of the mix, and where the focus needed to be at specific moments in the piece. It also told me that he was happy with most of the edits. The number of sound elements (actual edits and effects choices) that he wanted tweaked were pretty minimal. In particular, he was thrilled with how the final segment was turning out…which was good. After trying multiple approaches that I was always unsatisfied with, I went completely of the wall with my choice of sounds. I did a few things that, while I was finally happy with, I recognized were kind of wacky aesthetically. I had been a bit nervous about that, but he was happy with it and really enthusiastic about what I had done. We were ready to move on to the mix.

Still waiting for that last piece of music, I rebuilt the pre-mix stems to reflect the changes we had discussed (everything except the music pre-mix). The piece we were waiting for belonged in the final segment. That made it very easy to start mixing from the head of the show, and the piece came in at about the time I was ready to start on that final segment. I completed the rough mix and one round of a few self-imposed revisions before sending it on to Christen. Again, he’s continuing to get LtRt downmixes of my 5.1 session.

Because budget was a concern, I made the suggestion that we continue to base reviews and revisions off of an LtRt downmix. My thought was, “Let’s get to a point where you’re happy with the focus and balances in this stereo version. Then, hopefully, we’ll need fewer tweaks to the 5.1 version.” By working this way, Christen was able to avoid booking large amounts of local (to him) studio time.

We did four rounds of revisions using the LtRt downmix. Most of these conversations were done via e-mail, because of scheduling conflicts. After the third, we could both tell that we were extremely close to completion. In the new set of notes, there was one that had popped up in all of the revision sets (including the early edit, not-even-rough mix, notes), and I knew we were missing something in the communication chain. So, I pushed for a Skype session before I would start working on those changes. While I think our overall process did work well, the conversation really brought home how much faster we could have completed the mix if we had been able to sit down together for a mix session. While we quickly figured out, finally, what he wanted that I had been missing…had we been in the same room for a mix session, the problem probably would have been solved in the first round of revisions. If you’re going to work long-distance, opportunities for real-time communication is imperative. Push for those Skype or telephone calls, because things can easily be lost in text.

That was our final round of revisions using the LtRt downmixes. Next was the 5.1 review. He arranged for the studio time, and I sent him the discrete 5.1 audio files. While there are definitely some potential down-sides to this work-flow method, it really worked out well for us. Up to this point in the process, I had been careful to give him detailed descriptions of how the 5.1 mix behaved spatially compared to the stereo. He went in with a reasonable idea of what to expect, but was floored when he actually heard it. We even got a bunch of compliments from the facility staff. His only request was a very minor, global mix level, volume change. Despite the distance and time-zone differences, we had been able to work really well together. We were both really happy with how the final product turned out, and we’re getting more compliments from the other animators/directors as they get to see it.

While the facility authoring the digital cinepak later gave us both one last minor heart-attack…

“There’s something wrong with your dynamic levels.”

“What?!”

…further conversation and details…

“No, it’s supposed to be like that.” [Don't back seat mix, dude.]

…that closed up work on the project; at least, for me it did. Christen is in the process of hawking it out to festivals, and it’s already been selected for three. It’s first stop is the Annecy International Animation Film Festival in a week and a half. I can’t wait to see how people react to the finished piece…now if only it will get into a festival I can make it to. ;)