I take a fair amount of pride in my writing, so I was humbled when an audio engineer with whom I was working with told me he enjoyed my column in FOH and that it made for great reading while on the crapper. Although storing FOH in the bathroom — whether it’s on a tour bus, a venue or in an audio shop — seems totally logical, his comment, nonetheless, seemed like an underhanded compliment. My first reaction, after all, is that I am an author who writes words that convey lofty ideas. I articulate the inexpressible. I transmit cosmic truths to thousands of readers who hang on my every word — and this dumb schmuck reads my vaulted letters while sitting on the toilet. The nerve of him! OK, I’m humbled. It’s neither the first time, nor will it be the last time, and I’m sure I’ll recover. After all, humbling experiences are often a chance to reevaluate one’s perspective and grow past previous misconceptions.
Humbling Experiences
Speaking of humbling experiences, perspective and misconceptions, I was recently contracted to provide audio for a show that took place at the Waldorf Astoria. I was contacted by the tour manager of a Turkish band by the name of POW, or Painted on Water. The band featured a woman by the name of Sertab Erener, who is described on the Eurovision Web site as “the Turkish diva that brought the Eurovision Song Contest to Istanbul in 2004.” For those who may be unfamiliar with the competition, Eurovision Song Contest has been in existence since 1956 and has taken place in many European countries as well as Jerusalem. It is the longest-running show on television and is akin to American Idol in terms of its popularity. Playing the show with Sertab Erener was an all-star Turkish band that also included such jazz luminaries as Al Dimeola and Dave Weckl.
All well and good, but my “red flag” sensor had been triggered when I was informed of a 5 p.m. load-in and 7:30 doors. So, with only a three-day notice before the event, I decided to investigate. On my first trip to the Waldorf, I met one of the event managers from the hotel, as well as my friend Michael from Presentation Services, the in-house AV Company. We went to the event site, the Starlight Ballroom, which is approximately 120 feet by 35 feet. The hotel agreed to provide a 24-feet by 12-feet stage placed against the wall in the middle of the room facing the entrance. There was to be a small dance floor directly in front of the stage; the rest of the room would be filled with rounds (tables) that could seat 10. As we spoke, the full scope of the event was revealed to me and it wasn’t pretty.
The Plot Thickens
Apparently, the American Turkish Society sponsored the event in honor of the successful partnerships of two huge conglomerates, GE and Dogus Group. This gala was to be attended by nearly 400 leading executives from both the American and Turkish business communities, as well as dignitaries from the U.S. and Turkish governments. The chairman of the Society was none other than the late Ahmet Ertegun, founding chairman of Atlantic Records. That said, the plot thickens. As it was told to me, apparently, the Dogus Group has in their contract that POW is to play at any and all events that include the Dogus Group. Not wanting to insult their honorary guest, the Turkish Society accepted this stipulation from the Dogus Group, although they insisted that the event was to be seamless in every way possible, and regardless of time constraints or demands by the band, the doors were to open at 7:30 sharp. This is why, after seeing the band’s rider, the AV representative from Presentation Services told the band to call me.
All That Jazz
As it turned out, Ertegun had personally chosen a society jazz band to play at all his Foundation events, which had already been booked for the evening. They were easygoing and let me know that they could play on whatever gear was available. I was in charge of providing all the backline, and the opening band’s compliance gave me the hope that the stage changeover would go smoothly, especially since POW’s rider requested seven mixes and 12 wedges on stage plus a sub for the drumfill. Unfortunately, “seamless transaction” was not meant to be — Dave Weckl insisted upon using his own kit, which, of course, he would not share or move. This meant I was required to bring a second set of drums for the opening band and place them in front of the Weckl kit and strike them off to stage left upon completion of their set. The event planners did not want any time between bands, but regardless of how they tried to explain to POW that a 15-minute changeover would lose the crowd, there was no way to dissuade Weckl from his position.
What a Trip
Load-in to the room was a trip from the loading dock to the 18th floor and then a push across the hotel, which is a good city block. Because the loading dock at the Waldorf is closed between 2 p.m. and 5 p.m., we could not access the ballroom until 5 p.m. when the other event (did I mention the other event?) ended. This meant that we could not get into the room until 5:30 p.m., or, in real time, after the other AV Company was out. When that moment came, the Waldorf team would quickly set up the stage; the catering department would start to set up the room; and we would work around the new video company as we labored to set up sound and backline in a timely fashion. Due to the way in which the other event was booked, we needed to load in at 12 p.m. so that we could beat the 2 p.m. dock shutdown. However, we were required to store the gear in one room away from the first event until 4 p.m. when we were allowed to stage the gear next to the ballroom. I had hired an eight-man crew for an eight-hour load-in and four-hour load-out. There were also two A-1 technicians, one A-2, one backline tech and myself.
The system we brought in for this particular event consisted of a Clair Brothers 12AM monitor rig for the stage and 10 L-ACOUSTICS 108 self-powered speakers for a front-of-house system. These 108s were placed against the upstage wall spaced out at a distance of approximately 20 feet apart down the length of the wall, or four per side with two speakers on stage as near fills for the dance floor. It was absolutely the perfect system for the needs of this particular event since the speakers are low profile and provide a great sound and coverage. Two Electro-Voice self-powered subs were used on either side of the stage to handle the low end. The whole system was driven from one PM5D placed just outside the ballroom with the 150-foot snake run around the perimeter of the room from the console to the stage. The crew worked quickly and efficiently, and with precision planning, we were set up and ready to go with 15 minutes to spare.
No Music in the PA
The distinguished guests filed in and found their seats. The jazz band took the stage and smoothly executed such standards as “Georgia On My Mind” and “What a Wonderful World.” The mix was great, the coverage was perfect, the volume seemed fine and all was good in Mudville. That was when one of the event planners came up to me and asked to have the sound turned down. I had our engineer lower the volume, and the event planner came back to me to tell me that the music was still too loud. Again, we dropped the volume, much to the chagrin of the FOH engineer, only to have the event mistress return and demand that we lower the volume. We took everything out of the mix except the vocals, and shortly after that, Dave Weckl informed us that there was no music in the PA.
By the time POW hit the stage, two-thirds of the room had cleared and the mood was solemn. The sound was kept in check according to the needs of the grand affair. Regardless of how brilliant the musicians were, how well we executed the staging of the show, how superb the system could have sounded or how astute the engineers were, there are simply times when one’s ego must be set aside for the greater good. It’s a humbling moment, but quite frankly, I would have probably enjoyed that whole event while sitting on the crapper.
