Issue link: https://digital.copcomm.com/i/637797
55 Q1 2016 / CINEMONTAGE TOOLS OF THE TRADE When it comes to props and shoes, every Foley artist has his or her favorite: a zippo lighter, a rusty hinge, a creaky table… They are collectors and accumulators. "Calling me a collector is very kind," Costanzo laughs. "I've been called a hoarder and a dumpster diver — affectionately, of course." But this points to a larger truth about the art of Foley. In order to make sounds with fine shades of detail and nuance, you need all kinds of props, often in duplicate. Just about anything is suitable as a prop, from antique phones, typewriters and radios to cornhusks and coconuts. Chancey, who works out of a 900-square-foot space on the cellar floor of her home, describes her prop collection as "part garage, part attic." She adds, "I organize it by category: metals, plastics, things that roll, things that squeak, things that are squishy, toys, crinkly paper, crinkly plastic, natural stuff… I've got a whole area with seeds, pits, nuts, husks, coconuts and bones." Sabella acquired an expertise in bone-breaking sounds working on CSI for 15 years. When he wanted to get away from celery and other organics, which has long been the standard for bone breaks, he found alternatives that sounded just as authentic. "I use very thin wood for a bone break with a little sanding sound, and a lot of mud and grit for gush sounds." Other tricks of the trade include corn starch substituting for snow. Or polenta to make it sound icier. And for ice cubes? Walnuts or "fake ice" made out of resin that won't melt and change the way the ice sounds. WHERE THE SOUND GOES DOWN The Foley stage is where it all happens. So what does the Foley stage look like? At c5 in New York, Costanzo works in a 30-by-60-foot room with 18-foot ceilings. Built by re-recording mixer Skip Lievsay when he was still one of the owners of c5, it has foam walls, ceiling tiles and curtains. "We have a nice big reflective wall that allows you to cast or throw a sound 90 to 100 feet," says Costanzo. The Foley stage also has mobile foam cushions that function as foam walls and can be moved anywhere to absorb the live sound, which is crucial when doing exteriors. Harlan and Monat work on Sony's original MGM Foley stage, a soundstage that could never be created now because of upgraded building standards. "This is the original MGM stage, built before the 1930s, so the dirt pit is grounded and not elevated on cinder blocks or cement casing. The pits and surfaces were built to last. This is Hollywood at its best," Harlan explains. "It sounds more natural." She says that the old-growth construction has a much different sound than what can be created with today's structures. "Steel reinforcement and cinder blocks tend to create a cold sound," she adds. "You just can't get the warmth." Building regulations aside, much has changed in the way a Foley stage is designed, according to Sabella, who reveals that one of the real challenges is keeping outside noise from entering the Foley stage. "You're always fighting ambient sounds, planes going overhead, trains passing by," he says. At his Foley stage in Van Nuys, Sabella created a "room within a room" by doubling up the walls. This in effect sealed the Foley stage off from the outside world. "We had an acoustician come in," he continues. "We designed our room with panels that are adjustable. We can change our ambience in the room at any given time to match any ambience that we see or hear in production." The digital age has undoubtedly changed the way in which Foley artists work, especially the way the sounds are recorded and mixed. But the art itself remains decidedly low-tech. What has changed is the output. "We work a lot harder than we did 30 years ago," Costanzo observes. "We're able to accomplish a lot more in a much shorter amount of time, and that's because of digital." The onetime magician sums up his job thusly: "I run in place quite a bit. I lift things up and I drop things. I pick things up, I put them down. I pick them up, I put them down. My job hasn't changed in 33 years. I'm still banging two sticks together." f Marko Costanzo.