Directing the Radio Play and the Actor.

 

First among the essential qualities of the radio dramatic director is knowledge of the legitimate theater, a knowledge based upon experience. Experience on the stage gives the director an ability to sense character and a power to carry that perception to the audience. His own experiences teach him to visualize the scene and, since he often must teach the actors to visualize, an ability to do so himself is imperative. A dramatic script, as it comes to the director, is nothing more than a cold black -and -white story, a drama set down in symbols, symbols which mean nothing until translated in terms of sound. The director infuses into the script a certain liveliness and lifelike quality through the means of voice. He is the final judge in matters of conflict, characterization, motivation, and technique. He is both the critic and the listener. Although radio is essentially different from the stage, the theater director brings with him a quality which permits him to eradicate all impressions except those that can be produced and suggested by the voice of the actor to the imagination of the listening audience, aided and abetted, of course, by proper sound effects and music. The director of the stage soon learns to "feel" the play, to live and think in terms of the play, and he brings to the microphone this ability to cut a script and still retain the dramatic effect. One of the greatest directors of stage drama in the country today has stated that it is always his purpose in the final production to create for his audience the same emotional feeling he had when reading the script. All good directors should strive to do this. Every play has a mood and an emotional experience to present. A clever and wise director will strive to give his entire production the benefit of these qualities. Actors should feel this idea of the play -as -a -whole. It is the duty of the director to inspire them. An uninspiring director is forced to rely upon mechanical devices for every effect. The radio actor cannot count on the glamour of the stage to fill him with emotion just before he walks upon the scene. Consequently, an inspiring director in radio is perhaps more important that one for the stage. A quality second only to theatrical experience is the ability to teach. If a man knows all the tricks of voice, all the attributes and artistry of characterization, all the subtleties of emotion, but cannot succeed in training his actors to produce these effects, he can never succeed in ar-

tistically producing a show. The dramatic director in radio must be able to teach his casts radio technique. He will often have to teach the stage actor to be an acceptable radio character. The excessive preciseness of stage diction, the voice throwing of the theater, the magnified or elaborate naturalness of the actor are not suited to the comfortable listener in his home. His work is with voices, and voice work requires voice training and a knowledge of voice science. He must realize that the spoken word is an inflammatory thing, that the human voice is the most potent conveyor of emotion, an instrument that appeals to the imagination of man. He must coach his cast and train himself to listen for flexibility of voice, variety of inflection, lack of affectation, and good, clearly understandable diction. He must be ever cognizant of the fact that diction includes more than mere pronunciation and articulation. He must remember that it also involves phrasing, stress, the placing of groups of words into spoken italics, and, above all, a command of pitch. The mere fact that the director has produced plays and knows dramatic technique does not mean that he can effectively direct a radio program. The fact that he has been a teacher of speech does not mean that he will be able to produce his radio show in an interesting fashion. He must have something else. He must be one who has come to the realization that there is a very definite technique peculiar to radio directing, and he must have availed himself of every opportunity to study that technique in the various ways that are at his disposal. Actual experience in a commercial radio station would probably be the best training. There he would have the chance to learn all the phases and to saturate himself with the atmosphere of the broadcasting business. The most effective radio directors are probably those who have gained their experience in this way. Cooperation between the director and his many assistants is of utmost importance. The actors can give better performances if they feel respect for the director's ability. His treatment of them determines to a great extent the value of the actors' performance. Those directors who are most outstanding are accessible, open to suggestion, and tolerant. They know that they know their job; yet they are seeking constantly to increase the effectiveness of their work, for they know that there is much to be learned in the radio profession. A knowledge of music is another valuable asset for the director. Music has become an almost essential part of the radio dramatic performance. It has various and sundry uses. It may be employed as a framework or theme to mark the general outline of the show; it may supply an identification factor for the play or for a particular character; it may serve as a device to carry action from one sequence to another, or as a bridge from locale to locale, time to time, or mood to mood; it may be used to back a scene, that is, to play softly behind that scene and thereby enhance it by creating and intensifying a particular mood; it may subtly appear, or be realistically used, as a part of the dramatic scene or story; it may become an arbitrary studio device to lengthen or shorten the broadcast in the event that the running time of the drama does not fill the period or that over cutting of the script has created a need for filler. Finally, the music may be used as a sound effect which serves to interpret the particular action of the moment. In any case, the dramatic director must know his music sufficiently to be able to blend his atmospheric bridges into the thought of the play. But in his blending he must bear in mind that the ear of the radio audience is keen-much keener and more critical than the eye and ear of the theater audience, which has the added factor of scenery to help create the effect of illusion. A proper and adequate knowledge of the use of sound effects is a further aid to the dramatic director. Most scripts are written with many superfluous sounds, and the careful director will eliminate these as his first step in production. Again, he must be certain that the sounds to be produced really achieve the effect that they are intended to achieve. Many studios have a sound -effect library-mostly in recorded form --but these often are not so successful as sound effects that the tlirector and his staff may concoct

 

Too frequently young directors go into rehearsals without sufficient knowledge of the script with which they are supposed to work. It is not sufficient merely to read the script; it must be studied and then thoroughly digested. The man who is the power behind the microphone must know each and every character and that character's value to the plot. He must first get the mood, the feeling, of the show. He must understand the locale, sense the rhythm of the drama. This he should get in the first reading. Before any rehearsals, he must see to it that the script is approximately the right length-at any rate, not too short. If some part of the script is not clear to the director he should discuss it with the author, if he is available. The director might even suggest small changes in the script if he is certain that such changes will benefit the performance. If the writer is not available, these changes are made by the director himself, although it is much better to have it done by the original writer. One reading is never sufficient, however. A good director is never quite satisfied until he is able to hear the script while he reads it silently. In his second reading he makes his notes, writing ideas into the margins, checking positions of actors in relation to microphones and arrangement of studio equipment to fit the play. The director decides on the best arrangement of the microphone to pick up the words of the actors and the sound effects. If he has six characters in conversation, he may place them on both sides of a bidirectional microphone, although the eight -ball or saltshaker, which are non-directional, will permit the entire cast to surround the mike. It is best to use a single microphone for the cast, although there may be additional pickups for the orchestra and for the sound effects. Using more than one microphone for the cast is liable to produce distortion, and the microphones may interfere with each other rather than assist. He checks on speeches to be filtered; he jots down ideas for the sound effects man and the control operator; he decides on the incidental music which will be needed. It is wise to have at this time a separate sound rehearsal, since unsatisfactory or badly timed sound will ruin an otherwise good scene. The director decides whether recorded or manual sound effects give the better impression. With these details, the director is now ready for the third reading. He now has an idea of his characters, of the sounds, and of the music. In his third reading he reads with his mind focused on actors who are to portray the parts, deciding on types of voices and vocal traits which will most properly create the aural picture he requires. He is now ready for his next step, the casting of the play. 

The dramatic director must ever be aware of the fact that the microphone permits no letting down in interpretation. There is no bodily movement to help emphasize and interpret the spoken word. The voice alone conveys ideas, and the voice must. be such as to remove from the mind of the audience any sense of remoteness and must cause that audience to perceive living personalities enacting a portion of life. Since the actor's voice must give the character meaning, that voice must be accurately chosen. A poor cast can ruin a good script, and a poor script may sometimes be made into a fairly decent show with carefully chosen voices artistically blended. If the dramatic director is fortunate, he will know his potential cast Low-pitched voices should predominate. High-pitched or harsh, rasping voices are seldom welcomed on the air. The casting committee is concerned with two things what comes out of the loud -speaker and what happens in the mind of the listener. In the commercial studio, there is generally a small staff of actors and a larger group of voices "on call." The director knows the limitations and capabilities of each of his coworkers. He knows each person's voice qualities and each person's depth of emotion, and he knows which character portrayal each person is best capable of producing. If the dramatic director does not know his potential cast, it is wise for him to hold auditions or tryouts for the various parts. Here he may

carefully select each voice, in order to avoid any confusion of voices over the air. He will be certain to see that voices with similar characteristics over the microphone will not be brought together. Though auditions may play their part in casting a play, they are never wholly satisfactory, because the actor never feels that he has done his best and the director never knows what an actor can do until he has heard him work in a play. In any event, it is best to cast by hearing the voices over the loud -speaker. The director listens for the flexibility of the voice in displaying an understanding of the lines, in varying speed according to the material, in expressing emotion without shouting, in giving emphasis, and in throwing cue lines. He tries to find the voice to fit each character, whether youthfully exuberant, mentally sluggish, hard, worn, plaintive, or happy. There is a great danger of casting two voices which have the same qualities over the microphone; select voices which will be different in quality to the extent that the listener may be able to discriminate between his characters simply by the tones of their voices. It is a good idea to hear the possible cast of each scene read the same material in teams of two, in order to find the voices which are most easily distinguishable. When casting, it is best not to watch the actors through the control -room window. Casting hastily can give the director a tremendous amount of trouble; unless he knows his actors very well, he should try many voices before deciding on the final cast. Sometimes the dramatic director wonders about the effect of a voice on other people; in this case he can ask other members of the station staff to comment. Casting for radio must be done by voice alone, taking into consideration, of course, that the ability to read with smoothness and meaning is one of the attributes of a good voice so far as radio is concerned. There is no excuse for read-yness on a radio program. By the term "read-yness" we mean that quality of unnaturalness in the actor or speaker which gives the listener the feeling that he is reading rather than talking. Having decided upon his selection of players for the show, the dramatic director next must set the time for the first rehearsal. It is rather politic to allow the members of the cast to retain the copies of the script, for thus they can thoroughly familiarize themselves with the characters they are to portray and also gain an idea of the whole drama. Knowing the show well, the actor will be able to give a more intelligent reading of his lines and thus time will be saved in rehearsal. Since the ordinary dramatic director must work against time, each bit of time saved is valuable to him and to the station for which he works. Each actor underlines the name of the character whose part he takes each time it appears, and, if a speech is carried over to the next page, "More" is written at the bottom of the first page. Every effort, however, should be made by the typist to avoid carrying a speech from one page to another. The director goes over unusual words and gives character descriptions to the actors. Having completed the cast, the director is ready for the next step-rehearsal.

Before going into the actual rehearsal for the play, the director's task first is to consult with the sound -effects man and to make all arrangement for proper musical transitions. He will have decided on the various means of achieving the effects he desires and will also have arranged for the proper routining of sound effects as planned. As yet he will have only a superficial knowledge of how much music will be needed. The exact amount cannot be decided until he has had an opportunity to time rather accurately the spoken portions of the production. The first rehearsal is generally quite informal, merely a reading of the script without the use of microphones. The director explains his idea of the script and tells his cast the effect he wishes to create. The director will encourage the actor to intepret the part that has been assigned to him. Naturally the director will endeavor to guide the actor's interpretation but he should avoid dictating the characterization. He must make the character feel his part rather than tell him how to speak his lines. He gives the cast the picture as he desires it and places upon them the responsibility of the achievement. During the second rehearsal the director usually listens in the control room, from where he interrupts the rehearsal to give suggestions either by means of signals or through the talk -back microphone. He makes further suggestions concerning characterizations, interpretations, pronunciation, enunciation, and so forth. The actors are encouraged to use natural body movements, as they promote ease of interpretation. The third rehearsal is held with the microphone and the entire personnel of the show is present. All the instruments and apparatus are in place and the members of the staff know their parts and their duties. There may be a certain amount of rearrangement, but never a great deal if the preparations are made carefully. Each time the director interrupts the rehearsal, he stops his stop watch or stop clock and starts it again when the rehearsal is resumed. The director and the engineer must cooperate; besides interpreting his script in terms of drama, the director must also interpret it in terms of sound level and volume. The engineer is the equivalent of the chief electrician in a stage production (a man who is capable of making or breaking the show) ; the dramatic director therefore listens to the suggestions he may make in regard to placement of actors, sound effects, and music. Before the last rehearsal, the director has a fairly accurate timing of the program and he will know which parts can be eliminated without loss to the performance. Most directors time every page of the script, writing down the exact time at the bottom of each page. Additional notations are made at the conclusion of every scene and of the time used by fades, bridges, or pauses between scenes. This detailed timing is necessary for the perfect control of the time element while the program is on the air. Most dramatic presentations stretch slightly when they go on the air; therefore, it is a good idea to cut a script before the broadcast to allow for stretching. If cuts are made, the director will have to correct the timing notations on his script, following the place where each cut was made. By looking at these notations, the director can tell whether the program is running short or long. In larger studios, timing is done by the production man, or assistant director, but in smaller studios there is seldom both a dramatic director and an assistant director. No exact rule can be laid down for a required number of rehearsals, for many factors enter into the determination of the answer: the script itself, the ability of the actors, the amount and degree of difficulty in musical transitions, and, above all, the efficiency of the director himself. Comedies require less rehearsal time than drama for rehashing of lines, dwelling on them, is apt to kill spontaneity. No good director will stop rehearsing until he is certain that his show has reached the highest degree of perfection which he and his crew are capable of attaining. The dress rehearsal constitutes a complete performance of the script, precisely as though the program were being presented for an audience; in fact, it frequently has its most important audience-the sponsor. Before dress rehearsal is started, the director should time the musical portions of the program-the curtains and bridges for scenes. Every music cue should be numbered in rotation straight through the script, and these numbers should be entered on the director's script and the engineer's script. Thus, if a musical number is to be cut out, it is necessary only to indicate a number to the orchestra rather than a complete title. It is vital to time the commercials because these must be given regardless of time limitations. Dress rehearsal must be exactly as the actual broadcast; there can be no lackadaisical, perfunctory reading of lines, no lax routine delivery. The director must be a good disciplinarian as well as director. He must demand, and obtain, strict attention for the business at hand. During dress rehearsal, the dramatic director should accurately time the whole performance, making notations on his script. This rehearsal should show the director exactly what is wrong with the show. He should take notes, and wherever corrections are necessary they should be given to the persons concerned. But no actor should be disturbed just before he goes on the air. It is best to hold the dress rehearsal sometime before the broadcast and to record it so that dramatic deficiencies may be pointed out to the cast.

Timing and cutting the show is an integral part of every dress rehearsal and results in having every part of the show get off "on the nose." In order to accomplish a split-second finish, the director must cultivate a sense of time, a power to know how long it takes to say or do a given thing. He knows from experience and the studio logs the actual time allotted for the various periods on the air: the quarter-hour show allows 14 minutes and 30 to 40 seconds, the half-hour show, 29 minutes and 30 to 40 seconds. A like allotment is made for the shorter periods. The remaining 20 or 30 seconds of each period is allowed for telephonic and. engineering operations. It then becomes the effort of the director so to time and arrange his show (by cutting the script, by shortening or lengthening musical cues, by stretching or diminishing time for sound effects, by coaching casts to gauge their reading rate more accurately) that his show finishes on the second of the period. There should be some part of the show-music, sound, narration, transition, or speech-which can be stretched and used as a cushion. Music may be faded or repeated, as the case demands, without damage to the action, thought, or idea of the program. An audience is less likely to be offended (and, incidentally, less aware) when a show is being stretched than when one is rushing the show to get in under a dead line. If the director is to have any definite idea of how long his show is to run, proper addition and subtraction of timings is essential. Slovenly timing will result in a haphazard show. 

The use of a stop watch is recommended, and a fairly high-priced, progressive type of stop watch has proved to be the best. Further, it has been proved that jotting the time on the script at 30 -second intervals is the most effective practice. Timings should be placed over words on which they fall or in the right-hand margin of the script at the end of the line in which they occur. They should be written clearly and legibly. The dramatic director may, on the other hand, time each page of the script and note the exact elapsed time at the bottom of each page, or he may mark the elapsing of each succeeding unit or scene on the script. However, it is essential that the director know the time consumed by musical curtains, bridges, fades, and pauses. The question of pauses is another matter to which the director must give some attention. He must bear in mind that pauses make ideas stand out prominently. A pause may take place before or after any utterance in order to gain a desired effect. An idea can be made to stand out with special significance if it is both preceded and followed by a pause. Yet even these pauses must be carefully timed, for only in this way can the director be certain of the over-all time consumed by the broadcast. Scene and act transitions are made in different ways by different directors. The gong has been used to denote a change of scene or lapse of time. Frequently a strain of music or a few measures will create the desired mood between scenes or acts. Sound effects, such as the automobile, a train, or an airplane, may convey the listener from one setting to another. More frequently the dialogue following a brief pause will show that the scene has been transferred in the play. The radio director takes a great many liberties with the time element, not delaying the play to allow exact time to elapse for various actions. The final presentation of a program is the director's busiest and most nerve-racking moment, for this is the test of his ability. During the performance, the director must be constantly on the alert, cuing actors, music, and sound effects, making sure that each line registers at the proper sound level. He must listen for extraneous sound, as of rustling scripts and squeaking shoes, and, at the same time, he must watch his stop watch or clock and be prepared to signal the performers to speed up or slow down to conform to the perfect timing of the program. In reality, everything that he can do for the performance should have been done before the time of its final presentation-everything except one thing: his ability to remain the calm master of the situation. Radio has devised a set of signals which enables the actor, sound man, announcer, and musician to know exactly what the director in the control booth desires. Wild gesticulations, glaring, hair pulling and sometimes pantomimic mouthings of directions-will only serve to upset further an actor who has made a mistake.

A studio audience has been found useful in improving the quality of the performance of a comedian who desires the necessary timing for his jokes. The preview idea is one that is somewhat new to broadcasting, but it affords the producer and the actors a magnificent chance to see what will be appreciated by the audience and what will not. It is usually held two or three days before the show is actually scheduled to go on the air and is a kind of testing ground for the material which has been written. However, a closed broadcast is preferred when the program is in dramatic form, for the distraction offered by a visual audience often prevents a smooth performance. Another advantage of the closed program lies in the mystery surrounding presentations that never admit guests. It is a well-known fact that some people, after witnessing one of their favorite broadcasts, listen with less interest to future programs. Their illusions are smashed by the nondramatic manner in which some plays are broadcast from the studio. From the advertiser's standpoint, both methods have their advantages. A large studio audience is usually gathered by inviting distributors and dealers of a client to the program. This builds good will for the advertiser, and, if the program is very interesting to witness, it is an excellent low-cost form of advertising. 

The success or failure of a stage play is primarily in the hands of the playwright. The eyes of the director are responsible for the outstanding motion picture. The vocal interpretation of the actor makes the radio drama. Early in radio history advertising experts, educators, journalists, politicians, and preachers seized the opportunity to use their natural element-the air; but until recently the dramatic stars have been contemptuous of the opportunity to shine in the night air. In the early days announcers and station help doubled as dramatic artists; the station help still sounded like the station help, the announcer like the announcer. Only the radio -trained actor can lift the etherized play from its mechanical setting. The stage actor, however, is overcoming his mike fright and braving the indifference and cynicism of the comiuerically minded broadcasters. Perfection has not been a requirement of radio performance, but the sincerity, intelligence, and imagination of the artist will create the impression of reality. The stage actor must accept the challenge of justifying his art by his voice alone and must master this simple vehicle of his emotions and thoughts. He must put áside his temperament and submit to the sponsor's demands in the interpretation of hurriedly produced dramatic skits. Yearly, a great proportion of radio actors are enlisted from the stage and motion pictures. In spite of the lack of applause and color, there is a fascination in playing to millions on a single evening. Great actors are selling their names to advertisers. There is no better training for the broadcasting actor than a few years in a dramatic stock company. From the lecture circuits come recitationists, humorists, and monologuists. In the smaller broadcasting stations amateurs are trained for the big league; however, their dramatic directors must be efficient trainers, for poor training makes a poor actor. The "broadcast actor" who is not a stage actor, when he is successful, is often the most successful of all. Departments of radio dramatics in colleges and universities are providing graduates with excellent foundations for success. Commercial radio, like the theater, had an antipathy for schools, but today a high percentage of radio actors are college trained because such teaching usually results in good speech. 

Experienced stage actors have to be trained for radio appearances, where the first essential is the ability to read lines so that no listener will suspect that they are being read. Few radio dramatic directors require their casts to memorize their parts, because of the time limitation placed upon production. One wonders what effect television will have upon reading from a script. If the actors have been drafted from stock or stage, they might from reading. Reading also tends to destroy the actor's own illusion. Then there is the difficulty of concentrating upon one's own part in the script so that cues are not missed while the eyes are following the speech of another character. Frequently the dialogue lacks spontaneity because of this failure to pick up cues-an artificiality that is particularly noticeable to the radio listener. In radio acting, cues must be picked up with greater speed than in stage acting, as there is no visual stimulus for the audience to fall back on. The speed of picking up cues, however, will vary, even in radio. Variation in speed of picking up cues, along with variation in the speed of talking, is a matter of pace. Pace is one of the most important elements of radio dramatics. Radio has suffered from a mechanical reading of lines. The greatest asset of the broadcasting actor is the ability to read understandingly and, while reading, to express emotion. When one appears for a dramatic audition, one is usually given a reading test; there must be no stumbling over lines, no mind wandering. The reader must feel the part he is reading, must articulate clearly, must., through his voice, project himself as the character he represents through the microphone to the receiving set. While the time is too short for the lighting and smoking of a cigarette, as is frequently done on the stage, the radio actor should nevertheless recognize the value of short pauses in his media. 

The sole medium of conveying the actor's mood, his characterization, and his surroundings is his voice. It alone can create the desired effect upon his listener; hence he must project and color it to capture the listener's interest or otherwise his artistry will fall flat. The radio actor cannot depend upon gestures, stage business, or facial expression to aid in expressing thoughts and attitudes. Emotional crises and dramatic tensions are orally portrayed by one who cannot be seen. There is no give and-take contact with the audience, no supporting scenery-just a finely tuned vocal instrument. The radio actor must be a living personality who has experimented with emotional changes of the voice. Most radio voices sound insincere, and histrionism is greatly exaggerated by the microphone. The actor must control the volume of his voice before the mike, yet he must not fail to retain the emotion necessary for motivation. Another requirement is that the radio actor must not permit himself to adopt another player's emotional mood instead of observing his own. If he puts sincerity into his part and individualizes his delivery, he becomes a living personality entering the living room through the loud-speaker. All impression of remoteness must be removed. Above all, words must be spoken clearly, without leaving uncertainty in the mind of a listener as to what the character really means.

The merciless microphone, by focusing attention on the audible to the exclusion of all else, records affectations so faithfully that the stage diction of an actor of the old school sounds artificial when heard in home surroundings. Underplaying a part, however, does not get across to the radio audience. The radio actor must punch certain words in his part. This seems somewhat inconsistent with the faet that radio is an intimate presentation, but unless there is some overemphasis the scene does not become alive. On the loud -speaker stage, an actor who strives to be precise or dramatic often appears to be mincing or ranting. The "sweet young thing" sours the listener. Unleashed joviality makes the character into a boisterous clown. Radio enunciation must sound natural to common folk in the home; yet it must be precise, with a colorful quality that marks the artist. The radio actor must not be slipshod in his delivery, his pronunciation, or his diction. The quality of naturalness is not easy to attain; in fact, it is difficult to convince an "artist" that he is not being natural. The best teacher is a phonograph recording of the voice of the speaker or actor before the mike, provided the recording is accurate. One of the outstanding dramatic directors in radio has summed up the matter thus. " What we most strive for in radio diction is the fine line between diction so precise that it will sound affected and diction so natural that it will sound too casual. Naturalness is at a premium on the air as nowhere else. . . . A child who is being just naturally `natural' . . . is better on the air than is many an old school actor who is studiously trying to be natural." In a theater play, the actor is trained to throw .his voice to the back rows of the balcony, but when he appears in a radio play he must learn to control the volume of his delivery. Otherwise the control operator will be forced to modulate artificially the actor's voice, which may spoil his tone quality. The radio actor or speaker is trained with a volume -level meter in front of him, on the dial of which the strength of his voice is indicated by a fluctuating needle. The trained radio speaker will keep his level of volume upon the dial below the peak of 20; the best actor is the one who has trained his delivery so that modulating is not necessary by the control operator. An excessive throwing of the voice frequently results from the actor's being too conscious of the vastness of his audience. He feels that he must put on a particularly high pressure, which makes his speech sound, in the home where the receiving set is located, like a person shouting. It is not necessary for the radio actor to raise his voice where there are background noises, sound effects, or music, because he is always located closer to the mike and his voice will come through clearly over the sound effects. He may train himself to modulate the voice by turning on his radio to some musical program and speaking his part at the regular level, frequently increasing the volume of the music but keeping his voice at the same level.

The physical exertion of acting for the radio is just as great as that expended by the stage actor. Added to the tension incited by the time element, by the awful zero -hour silence, and by the vastness of the radio audience is the physical participation in the dramatization of the part. While the area of the stage is limited by the sensitiveness of the microphone, the actor should actually throw himself into his part. I have seen radio actors portraying a man and his wife fleeing from wolves. During their entire skit they faced opposite sides of a ribbon mike and went through the motions of running as they read their parts from the manuscripts they held. Meanwhile in the background a dignified imitator howled and bayed. The two actors really became breathless and every fine emotional shading was clearly picked up by the microphone. The use of non-directional microphones, or of the eight -ball or the salt shaker, permits action by the characters. The dramatic reader who is presenting a reading from "The Deacon's Masterpiece or the Wonderful One-hoss Shay" will sit in a squeaky chair which he will work back and forth as hard as possible. He will chew on an imaginary "thaw" of tobacco. He will crack an imaginary whip, acting the part that he is endeavoring to portray as he recites the lines, while in the background sound operators will turn wheels in a gravel track and produce the sounds of the horses' hoofs. Greater realism is produced when actors really act their parts. 

 

In general, the radio speaker stands about 1 foot from the mike. If he is farther away, he is not, in theatrical parlance, "center stage." When distance is necessary to create the desired effect for the listener, the actor will back away from the microphone. If the performer needs to exceed conversational loudness, he must step back from the microphone for such passages. In exceptional instances he may need to turn completely away from it in order to avoid blasting. All entrances are made from about 8 feet away. The actor speaks low at first and raises his voice as he approaches the mike until the volume is natural and casual. If the listener is to "see" this movement through his ears, the actor must speak all the time that he is moving. If he pauses in his speech, but keeps on moving, when his voice is next heard from a greater distance it may sound like that of another person. Another difference between the regular theater and the radio theater of the air is that in the former an actor must use strength to be head above the mob. Over the air the mob is put into the background and the speaker who is close to the microphone should not raise his voice. While the radio speaker acts his part, he cannot be weaving to and fro from the microphone, for this will cause distortion. His movements must be determined by the control engineer rather than by his emotions. By changing the position or varying the delivery, different altitudes may be projected. When the actor is excited, he will stand at some distance from the mike, raise the pitch of his voice, and speak more rapidly. Sympathy brings the actor in closer contact with the sensitive diaphragm, where he will raise his voice only slightly above a murmur. Ghostly laughter, so frequently heard over the radio, starts some feet below the microphone and comes up to it. It has been said that the impression of loyalty is best created by speaking in a quiet kindly voice close to the microphone. The distance at which radio actors work from the microphone varies with the type of scene being played. If it is a scene with 'many characters the mike is wide open in order to get in the entire group; under these circumstances actors may read their lines 3 feet from the pickup. On intimate scenes the speakers may come as close as 3 inches; thus the scene not only sounds but is intimate. When a filter mike is used for a telephone conversation the off-stage speaker talks within 1 inch of the microphone. The engineer will raise the volume according to the wishes of the director. When acting before the microphone the actor must be paying attention to a number of things at once. Aside from a strong concentration on the characterization he must read the script, take care to be the right distance from the mike, watch the director for signals concerning sound cues, speed of delivery, and distance, and pay attention to sound effects incidental to the action of the play.