AD is an Art, Period.
I am my own worst critic.
This un-mantra silently repeated as I overheard my voice in the podcast playing on my partner’s laptop.
He’d opened the episode as soon as I sent him the link. I’d avoided listening to it.
I’m still self-conscious of the brain injury’s impact on my ability to improvise and speak off the cuff. [I mentioned as much in this hyperlinked blog post, published weeks prior to the podcast interview.] My insecurity feels extra vulnerable when I’m sharing about topics of utmost excitement and importance to me, such as the craft of audio description.
Six months ago, I’d relished the chance to chat with Aaron, to spread the word about AD. Immediately following, as I reflected on what I’d said aloud, I’d suggested a re-do, knowing that I’d given him a hefty task of editing. So few questions coherently answered, so much meandering and losing my way through a response. So afraid to read from the notes I’d printed to help me stay on track. I didn’t expect to be visible for a podcast interview. I froze, weirdly camera shy. (And I would’ve placed my water bottle somewhere out of frame. The podcast episode was not sponsored by Klean Kanteen.)
Last night, while working on my latest AD assignment in the other room, I tried to ignore the sound of my voice. But in the 10pm hour, fatigued by a full day of writing and wrangling a toddler, my ability waned in the effort to compartmentalize or mute background noise. I conceded, deciding to prep for bedtime. I closed my show script and pre-show draft in time to hear myself respond to Aaron’s question, “What is audio description?”
I’d answered, “Audio description is—I think it’s another artform.”
My upward vocal inflection, however, punctuated the definition with a question mark: “…artform?”
I’d softened the claim with an uncertain tone because it felt risky to say aloud in a public arena. With five official years of describer status (whatever “official” means), I’m relatively new to the club, and AD is usually referred to as a “service,” and that term gives me a cringe. I didn’t know how many feathers in the AD field I’d ruffle with such an audacious a-word assertion. Tagging AD as “art” might seem like a leap in a society with such polarized feelings toward creativity. Our human, innate impulses to make and express have inevitably met one subduing obstacle (or a thousand) in the course of one’s life. Practicing artists constantly encounter embedded societal messages that impose judgy questions about an artist’s lifestyle, worth, dignity, intelligence, and unique perspective.
I digress again.
Present Christine now offers an improvement on Past Christine’s assertion:
Audio description (AD) is definitively another artform. Also correctly spelled out as two words: art form. As in, a form of art. At its core, audio description functions as creative writing and storytelling. In its succinctness, AD is poetry.
Wait, what is audio description? Through written and/or spoken words, AD conveys visual details* so that any creative product (and cultural experience)—of any artistic medium—remains wholly interactive and enjoyable to patrons. AD animates and enlivens the imagery** from a given artwork into the mind’s eye of the listener.
*Visual details like actions, scenery, color, costume design, performer appearance.
**Imagery like tableau composition, spatial arrangement, dimension, size, material.
In retrospect, my vocation has always been scripting and delivering audio description. It just took about 37 years of experience and professional training before I learned to call it AD. I’ve been a nonstop creative writer since I free-wrote my first short story in second grade. (You’ll find the physical evidence in countless notebooks and file folders that fill bookshelves, boxes, and hard drives.) My weird assortment of theatrical training, lifelong penchant for observation, coaching and teaching artistry, community outreach jobs, self-producing and directorial skills, plus an obsession with wordplay and linguistics make sense to me now because they all add up as audio description.
Until next time, I’m around, practicing my art! See you at the Paramount Theatre on Sunday, where you’ll hear me audio describe the farcical hit Oh, Mary!