What I Do

The amount of travel that I do is frequently cause for people to ask what I do. I know I’ve mentioned it in this blog in the past, and I’ve vaguely described it, but the vagueness has been intentional for reasons I’m sure most readers would understand.

The company I work for is an audio-visual staging company. We facilitate the production of business meetings and conventions for our corporate clients. If you’ve ever been to a national meeting for your company, or to a convention within your industry, you may have attended a general session where there was a large stage and huge projection screens blasted with the video images of the people speaking onstage. That is what my company does, in large scale and small. We erect the screens and all the video projection equipment, video cameras, stage lighting, sound system and teleprompter equipment. And for most of our clients, we also create the graphic elements that are displayed on the screens for continuity.


The view from the 'tech table' at a show in San Francisco.


The video switch Technical Director waiting to push our buttons.

In addition, we also provide coaching and training for those invited to speak who have no experience doing such a thing before a group of their peers ranging from several dozens to a couple thousands. We stage meetings anywhere our clients hold them, which has sent me as far south as Costa Rica, as far east as St. Petersburg, Russia, as far north as…well, St. Petersburg, Russia, and as far west as Hawaii, with certainly now hundreds of points in between — most recently, Madrid, Spain.

My contribution to the effort, aside from the occasional assist in setting up the staging, is in video preparation for a meeting, or “show.” Most of our clients utilize video elements as part of their presentations, elements which may range from a simple shot of an award trophy to a 10-minute “film” with actors shot at various locations, edited several days to several weeks before the show starts. I am a videographer — the only videographer on staff. I shoot most of the elements we create, also requiring frequent travel.


Capturing "B-roll" near Granby, Missouri.


On location near Honolulu, Hawaii. You can tell it's Hawaii by
the fact that I'm wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

On the road I mainly set up a betacam and lights for interview-driven videos — colloquially called “talking head” pieces — which require little creativity except in cases where the room we’re given in which to shoot is so small as to create a challenge. Occasionally we are called upon to create dramatic scenes, which depict scenarios the viewers may find themselves in with their clients.


Killing lights that couldn't be shut off, in Greenville, South Carolina.


Setting up for yet more interviews, Greenville, South Carolina.


Live, in (their) living room!

When I’m present at a show, it is usually for the purposes of creating a highlights video, which we call a “candids” video — a truly misleading term, as these videos are rarely candid. Our brand of candids involves a heavy dose of staged silliness, interspersed with atmosphere shots (the truly candid stuff) and excerpts from important speakers on the bill. All of the elements gathered are assembled on-site into a glitzy, hopefully entertaining, 5-10 minute video, which is played before the attendees in the last meeting or the last dinner of their show.

A typical show for me usually starts with my arrival the day before the attendees are scheduled to arrive. I’ll scout locations around the hotel for beautiful scenic shots (or as beautiful as the venue can muster), and for places to shoot any gags or skits we have planned. Then I’ll take the camera to shoot the scenic shots either that first afternoon or in the morning of attendee arrivals day, before the stream of arriving attendees gets thick.

Then I usually shoot the attendees at the registration tables, sometimes seeing inspiration for funny (or so I think at the time) sight gags and skits to shoot. The attendees on arrival day, after interstate, transcontinental or trans-Atlantic travel, are usually not in much of a mood to be captured on camera, so anything other than candid shots is difficult to acquire. Most clients throw a “Welcome Dinner” in the evening of arrival day, and the abundance of free liquor usually changes most minds — often quite dramatically — about being captured on camera!

The next few days are spent chasing the attendees around during their breaks and free time, trying to capture as much atmosphere and skits and gags as we can, or as are appropriate for the show. I accompany them on their organized activities, and when there are many different activities, the other candids team members get involved, carrying smaller, “pro-sumer” cameras on the other activities, usually leaving me to shoot golf.

During the whole show, while I am shooting, the editor is usually hard at it, putting the video together. Once I turn in a tape, he starts, and then there is a fairly constant flow — shoot, turn in tape, editor digitizes, assembles, shapes, I turn in tape, editor digitizes…. When the video is finished and the client has approved it — usually after requesting a few changes — we, the candids team, will lurk in the shadows of the ballroom to witness the presentation of our video, one part narcissistic indulgence, and the other part to gauge what “funny” gags or skits were actually funny to the crowd, and which ones tanked (most of them tank).

By the end of a show, usually 4 or 5 days after I arrive, I am exhausted. I work some days up to 16 hours, with most of that time on my feet. If ever I find myself with some free time, I usually wind up sleeping, whether intentionally or sitting upright in a chair and drooling on my shirt.

Any glamour one may fantasize to be found in a job that requires frequent travel is undone by the reality that, on a typical shoot trip I carry three large cases, two of which always threaten to go over the airlines’ maximum weight for my mileage status, and which I believe cause taxi drivers nightmares.

My view of most of the sights of the world has been through a taxi, hotel or airplane window, or through the black and white viewfinder of a video camera. I don’t wish to be misunderstood; I like my job. It’s tough at times. It’s frequently a huge pain and too many decisions that affect me are made by the seat of the pants. But I like what I do most of the time, and the travel accumulates airline miles for me at a rapid pace, which makes for a fair amount of practically free flights when I want to go somewhere for myself.

The giddy joy I used to get when learning of an impending trip to an exotic locale or faraway place is long gone, now, and my job certainly feels like a job, despite the creative exercise it affords me. But that’s okay. I’ll continue to let those who know me or who know of my job think it’s a fascinating job to have. Their imagination is tremendously more glamorous than the reality. I have very little to be envied, so I’ll take what I can get!