The importance of "B-roll" in video production. A hard lesson for me.

super A.D., Ben, grabs for all the "B-Roll" he can find!

The hardest thing of all in creating good video is not getting the color right or the footage sharp. Some would say the hardest part is always getting good sound. But for me the hardest part of the process is the edit. And the stumbling block for me is that I have a hard time understanding the vital importance (in the edit phase) of having lots of great "B-roll" to choose from. 

First of all, What the Hell is B-roll? Most of the video work I do involves shooting interviews. The interviews can be about new products, new processes or about something that the interviewee has done that is interesting. My somewhat linear mindset leads me to want to shoot the interview the same way I'd shoot a photographic portrait. My brain was programmed by years of still photography to compose a very nice frame, get my lighting as close to perfect as I can and to pay attention to the main event; the actual interview. 

But if you are creating video that's watchable you need to understand that having a person stare into (or near) the camera lens and talk can get pretty boring pretty quickly. Also, since we seem to be culturally evolving into a new species that learns almost exclusively by seeing, we need on screen images of the things our interviewee is talking about for the audience to better understand the content. Finally, we need scenes and associated imagery to cut away to in the event that we need to make an edit to the primary footage. After all, the way video works best is to get your audience into the story. Technical glitches are a quick way to pull them right back out of your story and move on to something else. 

In the video Ben and I are currently on for a healthcare client we have an interviewee who gave us a tremendous interview session. The technical problem is that she said great stuff but it was spread across different clips. We wanted to piece one very tight and coherent program out of these little gems of content but every time you make a cut from one clip to another there is a jarring difference in the overall continuity. The person's body might be in a different posture, hands in a different place, even the expression might be much different (if the light or sound is different; that's on you!). 

So, when we want to join different clips we need something else to cut away to to keep the audience from seeing the obvious visual hiccups. That's the primary role of B-roll. It is footage that gets inserted into your program either to show something that relates to what your narrator or interviewee is saying or to provide a way to disguise cuts between clips. The best situation is that B-roll will do both. 

Since my brain seems hard-wired to go straight for the obvious I end up running the "A" camera in most projects. I have a good, linear idea of the overall outline of the project and I'm off and running from point "A" to point "B". I'm busy following the map. But I am not incapable of learning. In solo projects I set up a second camera to run during interviews which gives me a different point of view to use in my edits and I try my best (with a meticulous shot list) to get as much footage that is relevant as I can. But if push comes to shove it's the direct interview that always takes precedence. 

Recently I was beaten over the head with just how useful and necessary good B-roll could be. My assistant director on our healthcare video project spent the shooting day with a Sony RX10iii camera in his hands. We set both the primary shooting camera and his camera to the same codec, the same white balance and fps to give us a fighting chance at mixing the footage in the edit. 

Everything I shot the A.D also shot, but from a different angle and different magnifications. He also shot details and close-ups and reverse angles. In all, he shot about twice as many clips as I did but, in my defense, my camera was running all the time on interviews...

When we got back to the studio my A.D. started editing the footage based on the outline we created. We had just done a Lynda.com refresher course to learn what was new in Final Cut Pro X 10.3 and were both excited to try using the "flow" transition tool to cut together the interview (which would serve as a primary narration track) from the jigsaw box full of clips we had at hand. The flow tool is a great transition tool where audio is involved. It seems to understand that we're piecing together two different clips of audio and automatically makes the transitions almost (audibly) invisible. 

As you may guess we had dozens and dozens of clips butted together and while the audio was more or less seamless the visual cuts were obvious. That's when my A.D. started diving into his treasure chest full of B-roll. Stuff I never thought about came out. A super close up of a stream of fresh, hot coffee filling up a coffee carafe in the kitchen. An ethereal shot of a bowl of lemons. Numerous shots of the products shot in an artsy way with a moving, handheld camera. Lots of angles of our main talent athletically piloting her wheel chair in a park, at a lake, at a restaurant, getting in and out of her car, having a meeting, etc., etc. 

He seemed to have the perfect cutaway shot for every contingency and I marveled as the project grew from a barebones documentation to a full blown, visual narrative. Video is so much richer with images that bolster the "main" footage.

Since my current A.D. is "on loan" from his college I'll be looking for a new assistant director/editor to work with in February. First on my list of question for them will be, "tell me your ideas about shooting B-roll..."

It's good to figure out where my blindspots are so I can work on them. From now until it becomes second nature I'll be carrying a "B-roll" shot list with me on every assignment. Yikes. So much harder than the camera work. At least for me.

Always learning.

Learn the plan. Execute to the plan. Then make a new plan.

I think there are two kinds of workers in the world. There are those that want to master the process in front of them and then keep doing the same process over and over again as long as they get a paycheck. The idea of learning new things seems threatening and difficult and is to be avoided. Then there are workers who become restless after mastering one craft and are ready to move on and learn new things all the time. Many people are incremental learners while a different group are explorers who benefit from frequent flashes of satori and then move off to try something completely new. 

From an economic point of view it would seem that people who avoid new tasks and new training would have a financial advantage because they have attained (for the moment) a tested mastery which is efficient in its regular application. It's a tested process; all that remains is to frequently activate the process and monitor it. The downfall of this approach to working life is what generally happens during periods of technological disruption. The process (and the worker) become unnecessary and retraining must occur if the paychecks are to continue. 

The slower, or more reticent a person is to embrace new training the less financially stable they become. For the second group, the people who would rather starve than do the same process over and over again are experts in retraining because they do it constantly. 

I've watched so many disruptions to the imaging business in the last twenty years. First was the move toward digital imaging and away from film. I heard countless people, who had mastered the basic steps of shooting with film, renounce digital and maintain the use of film in their businesses long after the writing was on the wall and the need to transition was obvious to everyone else. The slow to adapt perished, financially. It happened with post processing. It happened in transitions from early cameras to more capable cameras, and it's happening again as demand for video eclipses falling demand for producing photography as a commercial business.  It happened to specialized studio car photographers who saw their talents superseded by CAD experts who could take a digital wireframe and "skin" it in any flavor, color and texture. Voila, instant car... Those graphics suppliers are thriving because they've mastered a process that emerged from a previous,  disrupted discipline. 

This is scary if you were fixed on the idea that you would learn how to pose people and how to use a still camera the same way over and over and over again, getting exactly the same results and billing the same amount of money each time. Especially scary when the market for what it is you have learned to do begins an accelerating decline. It's like passing out from blood loss. By the time you realize you are losing consciousness from blood loss it is likely too late for you to put pressure on your own wound and take other lifesaving actions. The people who survive are the ones who take immediate action. Better yet, survival is most probable, at least in our industry, for the people who constantly look to the future and prepare. And continually learn.

About two years ago I looked at the general advertising and business marketplaces and did some research. Fees for photography were stagnant and demand for most photographers working in the commercial markets was down. On the other hand video had surpassed still imaging (by a good margin) on the internet and was becoming more of a mainstream advertising and marketing tool for companies large and small. On and off the internet.

When I looked at video from the point of view of a photographer I could see that there were things I could bring to the process that were desirable. I have vast experience lighting with all sorts of tools, including the constant light sources required by video. I have spent a good portion of my working life directing people who end up in front of my cameras for one reason or another. I was pretty sure the ability to direct people, and to build a rapport with them, would also be a worthwhile skill in the video production business. 

My weak spots were the nuts and bolts of audio, the aesthetics of making the camera move, or making the people in front of my camera move, and in the editing. While I love to tell stories I needed to learn how to tie visuals together, from idea to idea, in a way that would not take people attention away from the story. Finally, I needed to learn the toughest lesson for most photographers: that we are not trying to make one achingly beautiful image we are trying to tell a whole story in a believable way. And that has been the hardest thing for me to learn. 

At some point in the late Fall last year I started to set out some goals and guiding concepts for my work in 2017. I had experienced success in putting together large and small video projects in 2016 but I could see that I would have to commit to learning more and delivering more expertise if I wanted to grow the video side of my business this year. My goal for 2017 is to have 50% of my business income derive from producing video for clients. That's a big change for someone who has depended on only still photography income to provide for everything in the family budget. At times I feel like I'm walking into a long dark hall...

So, how do I retrain? I try to learn all the time. I've read dozens of books on audio and video production. I've worked through books on scriptwriting and editing and, after every bit of new knowledge comes my way I grab a camera and a microphone and practice what I've learned with a camera in my hand. I find that I have to try each step for myself and internalize it before I can really understand it. In down time, like waiting for the next person to come into the Acme conference room for a portrait, I write small scripts and map out related visuals.

My best sources for much about making good video comes from the online learning resource, Lynda.com. The depth of information about Final Cut Pro X alone was worth a year's subscription. Watching Anthony Artis hook up a mixer to his video camera and set the controls was perfect. The tutorials on composition made me re-think much of what I do as a still photographer. 

While I've spent hundreds of hours reading, watching and learning, the one black hole in the process is watching the "free" channels on Youtube and on various websites, about video. On almost every site the content is nothing more than an endless stream of product reviews. If you allow yourself to get stuck in the review sites you'll waste massive amounts of time learning about new gear and fueling your addictive desire for the latest and greatest stuff. And that sucks away the time you need to spend actually learning the basic processes and concepts. You'll become an expert in the various camera and microphone models available with little practical knowledge beyond how to turn the units on. 

I've worked hard to stay away from the gear review sites and it's paid off for me as the owner of a photography business. The last camera that I bought was a Sony RX10iii some nine or ten months ago and I slowed down my "need" to learn about new products to the point where I have bought, in 2016, and now own, far fewer cameras than I have since the days of film. It's liberating because instead of learning that the new "miracle" camera has 2 Db less noise at ISO 1250 than last year's miracle camera I am learning where and when to point the camera I have at the right subjects and to meld them together nicely in post. 

If I were to recommend a strategy to someone who wanted to learn how to shoot good video I'd tell them to put off buying anything until they read a book about writing a script. And then I'd have them watch a series of tutorials on editing. Then I would have them read Blain Brown's book on Cinematography. Only then would I suggest that they buy (or borrow) some gear and get to work on their practice. Because, forearmed with intent and basic knowledge, they would understand what it was the gear would help them to accomplish. Too often the gear is just an unused trophy. A monument to one's purchasing power and credit scores. 

Here is a lesson. Pick up your favorite video camera, zoom the lens to about the equivalent focal length of 50mm, point it at something or someone and record, handheld, for 30 seconds. Just 30 seconds. Then look at the results on a 60 inch television. Now you understand why you need a tripod. A good tripod. 

Here is a lesson. Take your camera to a crowded park, a food court at a mall, a busy coffee shop. Bring along a friend then turn on your camera and interview them in one of these environments, using the built-in microphones in your camera. Take everything home and listen to the resulting audio on a good pair of headphones. Congratulations! You now understand why you need more flexible microphone solutions. 

Here is a lesson. Go out without a script and shoot some pretty video. What ever catches your eye. Go home and watch it from beginning to end. Oh Boy!!! You just realized why a script is so important...

In each case the learning experience has nothing to do with the need for better gear, sometimes just the right gear. Or the right planning. Or the right subject matter. 

Here are some things I learned this week: Intellectually it seems  very straight forward to stand behind a camera for two hours and document a corporate conference. You will be behind a camera that has a long zoom lens and all you really need to do is follow the corporate speakers as they amble around on the stage and talk. Oh, and you'll also need to pay attention to the sound. 

But there's the initial question of just how to compose the frame. Should you be tight or loose? How can you smoothly change direction with the speaker? At 600mm will adjusting the focus with the ring on the lens cause visible camera shake? How much headroom should I leave? 

I learned to separate the monitor physically from the camera so that I can change batteries on the monitor without effecting the camera. I was unsure of what to do when I stopped to change a monitor battery because I would be unable to keep the speaker in the frame and to follow him. My solution was to slowly zoom out to a wider shot of the stage, adequately covering all of the speaker's habitual "race track," lock the camera down, change the battery and then zoom back in slowly while picking the speaker's motion up again.  It actually worked. 

I have so much to learn but learning is so much fun. I have my first video assignment out of the country at the beginning of the next month, right after yet another video project for a tech company, and I'm already deep into research about the best way to bring in the equipment I'll need. 

The upshot of all this is that I am very excited to wake up and get to work everyday. There's just so much new stuff to think about. And it certainly seems to keep the business rocking along. No complaints from the CFO; even after dropping some serious money on new lights. It's all fun. 

Trying to be a better videographer is making me a better photographer. Let's see if trying to be a better scriptwriter makes me into a better blogger....(sigh.)

Momentarily fatigued writing about video. More fun today writing about portraits.

Michelle 2016.

This is a photograph of my friend, Michelle. I have photographed her off and on for about 25 years now. I feel like we were just kids when we first met and started working together. I cast Michelle in a bunch of print ad campaigns in the 1990's and she came across as the perfect (aspirational) young "soccer mom." In fact, I considered her to be the gold standard for the higher end real estate projects we were routinely called on to produce.

She got in touch recently and asked me to take portraits of her to use for public relations in her speaking career. I was more than happy to oblige as I have a beautiful black and white portrait of her on the wall, just to the right of my desk. Looking at it gives me a boost of confidence when I'm working on bids and proposals because I can look at that print and know that I have been able to produce work I love in the past, and there's a better than even chance that I can do it again. I'd say, given that I've had the print on the wall since I moved my office here 20 years ago, that Michelle has already pre-paid me a hundred times over for any new portrait I might make of her now.

This image was done with simple lighting and straightforward camera work. The lights were studio electronic flash with one head into a big, big modifier to the right of the frame and the second light in a small, 12x16 inch, softbox between Michelle and the background.

The camera was a Sony A7Rii and the lens was the (too sharp) Sony 70-200mm f4.0 G.

I did a bit of post production to soften Michelle's skin tone and retouched a few wrinkles around her eyes. You might not like retouching and you may think I've overdone it but this is more like what Michelle looks like in my mind's eye. And what I wanted to create was an honest, kind, happy, warm image of someone who embodies those qualities.

In some senses a good portrait is part of the routine nature of my business. But to me, when it comes to friends in the studio, it's more an opportunity to catch up, share good news and bad news, and bolster each other to face the future with optimism, and a sense that we are all connected to each other. Some more strongly than others.

Here is a photograph of Michelle from an earlier session (1992).

She helps me understand that beauty transcends time.