Ocmix

RobairReport
NET WORTH
By Gino Robair
The best class I had during graduate school
in the mid-’80s was a composition seminar
taught by American composer Pauline Oliveros.
Known for her innovative use of sine-wave
generators and tape delays two decades earlier, as well as her influential
Deep Listening and sonic awareness aesthetics, I expected to spend several
months exploring advanced and heady concepts. But to my surprise,
the course’s direction proved to be more mundane and practical.
“You’re going to learn to write a grant.”
Right. Here we were in one of the country’s leading institutions supporting
the experimental music tradition—graced by the likes of John
Cage, Henry Cowell, Lou Harrison and Robert Ashley, among many
others—and we were going to talk about money. Of course, we all knew
that grants were the main means of financial support for the arts in the
U.S., so it seemed like a reasonable topic to dig into. Each student was
asked to propose a project and follow it all the way through, from design
to realization.
Yet the real eye-opener was something very specific that Oliveros
pointed out as we discussed the myriad things that should be included
in every project budget.
The key to success, now,
is to bring something to
the table that simply cannot
be found elsewhere,
at any price.
“Figure out what your time is worth,” she
said. “Then, include an amount in the budget
that takes into account the number of hours you
will invest in the project.”
Time stood still after I heard that. You mean
I can pay myself for being an artist?
But then it hit me: I had no idea where to begin.
Up to that point, I had been a member of the musician’s union in the
Inland Empire, so I understood what scale was for a percussionist doing
various “services,” and I knew what I was able to get per hour working
odd jobs. But as a single person doing what he loves most—how do you
put a price on that?
Three decades later—with a family, a mortgage in the Bay Area, and a
kid in college—it’s much easier to figure out what my time is worth, even
for my own projects. The challenge that remains, however, is the ability
to convince others of that value. And this cuts to the core of the current
crisis in the creative community, whether you’re a writer, musician, artist
or engineer, because what we think we are worth might not match
what the market is willing to pay.
So while the average consumer is happy to spend a few bucks on
specialized coffee drinks, nearly everyone in the entertainment business
is having to justify the reasonable amount they ask in remuneration
for a project.
A recent example, though not an isolated one: A colleague of mine
who records concerts was recently hired by a band to capture a gig using
a stereo pair of mics placed a few feet from the stage. After setting
up and doing the soundcheck, the leader of the opening act inquired if
his band could also be recorded—for free—since the mics were already
in place. The engineer politely said no, to which the band leader asked—
you guessed it—if he could split the other band’s bill with them. But the
engineer stuck to her guns and reminded the guy that she needs to earn
an hourly wage for her work, just as he does, and she would be happy to
record his group for the same amount she was charging the other band.
At least he wasn’t able to use the old “do it for exposure” line.
FAIR TRADE
The difficulty today for studios and engineers is figuring out how to keep
from pricing ourselves out of existence as project budgets decrease. Where
I come from, the main tactic in negotiations is to shoot high, let them
lowball you, and then haggle until a satisfactory price has been achieved.
In the age of the Internet, however, that can be
a dangerous strategy to employ: It’s easier than
ever to find what you want at a lower cost using
your Web browser. Consequently, the key to success,
now, is to bring something to the table that
simply cannot be found elsewhere, at any price.
This came up recently with a project I bid on:
I did my due diligence and soon realized that I
had a particular skill set and set of tools that was difficult to beat within
my geographical location. So I made a proposal that seemed fair considering
the amount of time the gig would take, though (as they made
clear) a bit higher than they had expected.
What made this particular situation easier than usual was that I already
had a full schedule and didn’t need the gig, which I made clear to
the other party— a nice position to be in when negotiating. Remarkably,
the offer was accepted immediately.
Of course, we’re not always in the catbird seat when job hunting, but
the takeaway is to know what your time is really worth at the start, by
analyzing your expenses, expectations and other personal needs. From
there, you can negotiate based on how critical the job is for you at the
time. Although you may not always get the gig you want, when you do,
you’ll know how close you are to getting exactly what you need. n
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MIX | OCTOBER 2015 | mixonline.com