Cathy Aronson talks to event producer Pak Peacocke about the three-dimensional task of setting up for a show as big as Fashion Week and how he passed up the life of international touring for the 'warm blanket' of the New Zealand industry.

Pak talks about creating an emotional journey for the audience, an 'inherent responsibility', not written down in a contract, but at the heart of his company 'The Show Business'. He creates this journey by analysing his own response and questioning what gives him a warmer experience. It's a job where confidence is needed but ego can be your undoing.

"Your job is to do a great job and hopefully not be noticed, because the whole thing relies on a willing suspension of disbelief and if you start to jump up and down and say 'look we tricked you, I'm the person that created the tricks that made you feel this way' then you're undermining the value that you're creating for the person in the first place."

The Journey

It was the early 80s and Pak Peacocke was back home in NZ, on a break from the Donnie and Marie Osmond tour, and he had a choice. He could continue the life of venue, airport, hotel - or explore the niche in the NZ events market for emotional and performance focused productions.

Pak had been touring for 12 years working on large indoor and outdoor shows with the likes of U2, Elton John, INXS, Jimmy Barnes and Midnight Oil. It was an eye opener after leaving a country where young attired entertainers like Ricky Morris were spat at on the streets of Te Awamutu and technical production wasn't considered a profession.

Pak started out at the age of 14 helping his brother 'lug gear' and run mobile discos at places like the Whangaparaoa community hall Christmas party. His brother had returned from the film industry in LA with home amplifiers and speakers and continued to gather the gear to support his mate's bands live performances.

It quickly grew into a large company doing lights, video staging, corporate theatre, monitors on stage, and outdoor festivals with a large backline. Pak was thrown in the deep end and had to learn to operate the equipment in a typical kiwi No8 wire way.

In NZ doing sound on a tour included 'loading the lighting equipment at 2am in the snow because there is only five of you on the job'. Internationally people specialise in one area, doing maybe one tenth of a lighting task, without much mental realm outside their expertise.

"Overseas a lot of the design is done by people who have come in from a design background whereas in NZ generally a lot of the design is done by people who have come up from the ground and experienced all the different areas they are working with."

He left New Zealand with a broader technical knowledge and more holistic approach to producing. He entered the US through Utah with a one-way ticket and $200 in his bank.

Once sound was less challenging Pak started to pay attention to other aspects of the show and on easier gigs helped out with lighting and stage building. Pak sat by the monitors 'for hours and hours' watching the audience on one side of his vision and the performers on the other.

He absorbed the tricks of the performers, the mood of the lighting and tone of the music that created "that invisible leap between the audience and performer, where the performer gives out and the audience responds and that feeds the performer and it goes around this big circle of energy."

An energy that was not always there, so he tried to figure out what made it work.

The 'warm blanket' of the NZ industry

After being on the road for 12 years Pak decided to throw in the prospect of touring for the rest of his life and the recognition (plane passengers on tour trips would 'treat you like you were a trained, professional with expertise to contribute to society') for the 'warm blanket' of the NZ industry.

New Zealand provided the 'safety net' of friends and 'borderline family' where everyone supports each other. This contrasted to the Australiasian entertainment industry of supplying to contracts and 'dust ups and arguments at the drop of a hat.'

"There is a sense of community within New Zealand, because it's a small island. If within the industry you go around pissing everybody off you don't work anymore. In some market places the culture is confrontational, and other market places are so big that the long-term relationships don't develop. So in New Zealand we really have a great environment for creativity."

Setting up his own business in NZ also gave him the chance to create the technical riders and 'inherent design' for shows instead of working to a blueprint from a third party. His work can also include all aspects of staging and shows such as creative development, performance, venue sourcing and hirage, lights, sound, AV, set, staging, special effects, power, budget management and security.

The Show Business

Pak's business, The Show Business, started small and for the first two years was nicknamed 'The No Business' as he continued to freelance doing sound. He began doing conferences and hotels, themed dinners and award ceremonies then product launches and dealing directly with clients providing technical supplies for hotel conference room clients.

In the early 90s he came across his first big hurdle, losing $60,000 to a company that went into liquidation, wiping out his cash reserves. It was set back, but with a young family, mortgage and bills he was determined to swallow it and 'just get back out there and get the next show going.'

The supportive supply industry he had returned to in NZ cushioned the blow to help the show go on. He stayed in NZ and continued his vision to fill the niche of emotional performance based producing.

"That for me is the only reason that all the technology is at an event is to support a performance, even if it's just the playback of a video. And the only reason for the performance is to create an emotional journey for the audience, because that is why you go."

He said clients are spending money to create an emotional change in people that comes from "peaks in the show that people carry with them into the future and talk about."  Pak analysed his own response to things to find out what made him feel warmer about certain experiences.

Secret of success

Creating that experience is 'an inherent responsibility' and key deliverable, not written down in a contract.

"It's often not even talked about but for me it is the challenge and the reward in the project to stand there on the side and watch the audience."

If a third of the audience is reading or texting they have failed terribly, if the audience is riveted and watching, then it's a success. He says you are only as good as your last show, only the screw-ups are talked about and the good stuff can go under the radar for a long time.

But when the success did come Pak kept to an early decision to not take a bow at the end of a show or push his own barrow, as the recognition was due to the people putting on the performance, "not to those paid to execute that."

"Your job is to do a great job and hopefully not be noticed, because the whole thing relies on a willing suspension of disbelief and if you start to jump up and down and say 'look we tricked you, I'm the person that created the tricks that made you feel this way' then you're undermining the value that you're creating for the person in the first place."

Remembering the client and performer was also a key aspect Pak is proud of delivering for award shows. He said it is important to create a supportive environment for the competitors and hold in great respect the moment that a winner wins, instead of it becoming just another cue in the show.

"The payback for the audience members is always the emotion and the empathy you feel with someone who has achieved something, who fought against the monster and beat it."

The business

While managing the audience's emotional journey is a big part of his job, managing the client's expectations and maintaining relationships is just as important. When Pak started out he thought it was a one-way street 'where you did anything you were offered money for'. But he quickly realised he was better off not doing anything for a month if the clients expectations were unmanageable.

"It's also about not doing every job you were offered and doing the ones where you trust the client and want to do the job so that you did it well and weren't fighting an inherent dislike of the situation."

The Show Business is not listed and does not advertise or have a website. His jobs come from word of mouth, so when he is approached there is already a desire for his company to do the job. The Show Business portfolio includes Loreal, Louis Vuitton, Audi, Mercedes, Moet, Axis, NZ Film, Auckland Festival, Comedy Festival and Lion Breweries.

Sometimes the client comes with a clear idea and Pak's job is to 'wholeheartedly build on that vision' and bring the technologies together to make it happen.

"It's about having a clear honest and ongoing dialogue to ensure their perceptions are managed realistically and that you don't let the back slapping ego thing get out of control."

Ideas

Other times Pak is handed a blank page to create the design of the show. This aspect of his job is about 'waiting for a flash of brilliance, a seed idea to come into your head'.

But it's also about being willing to let the idea go if it doesn't work for the client, and quickly come up with another one. Pak says a good idea is a relative term, it can be a good idea standing alone but if it is not serving the task your client needs, it is only your own ego trying to keep the idea alive. It's a case of not getting your ideas and ego mixed up. The feedback is an important part of the process, it keeps him learning and interested, and takes him closer to the right idea.

"It's about delivering to someone else what their needs are not what your needs are or your own ego wants you to do. You have to be able to let it go and you have to believe that wherever that idea came from, that's a step on the path to finding an even better idea that suits them down to the ground."

However it is not all about good ideas. You need the skill base and experience to convey them. He says once that skill is developed it's a smaller step to creating a physical outcome.

"Some of the population believes there are creative people and non-creative people. I believe that everybody is creative and everybody has ideas. The only difference is your knowledge base to be able to communicate that idea to someone else."

When he is putting a show together he uses an 'outflow philosophy' of working with his team, mainly freelancers, and trusting their skills as long as he has done his job to give them all the information they need.

Logistics

For an annual event as big as Air New Zealand Fashion Week, where most of the work is done in the first year, it is primarily a logistical and communication exercise to dust off and improve the plans and work on variations.

It's also about managing the budget on a slim margin, to get the same job done for the same price, where he relies on open relationships and regular suppliers to hit the middle-mark and get the job done at a fair but sustainable price. He said in NZ everyone works together to make sure they don't cut off the hand that feeds them every year.

"The community thing in New Zealand stretches across people and organisations that don't even know each other but they are integrally linked as an organic organism in the terms of money."

Most of the variations for Fashion Week involves meeting the needs of 30-40 individual shows held on site at the Auckland's Viaduct Harbour Marine Village. It includes three days of designer and producer meetings to focus them on the task and clarify information. Two weeks before the show they have a second round where they sign everything off. Sometimes things change, but as long as the majority is done, it is manageable.

On the day, it is a case of getting everyone in and out of the room on time. The event has many interacting parts that can cause chain reactions and problems if not properly managed.

Three dimensional management

"It's an enormous three dimensional chess thing, one small comment to change something can mean people are working all night."

Pak manages it by keeping his finger on everything, with clear communication, trusting key players and choosing to take the responsibility to let someone know if something changes, even if it's just a short-radio conversation you have overheard backstage, rather than folding your arms and declaring it is not your job.

"There's no one in the team that has that attitude, you don't just sit there and watch your friends crash and burn."

A key to surviving in the industry is also keeping your cool. There is no place for negative energy and anyone who yells or screams is sent home. You have to lead, follow or get out of the way, says Pak.

"If you're not active in one of those polarities, if you're in the middle, you are just in the way. And both ends of the polarity will waste no time telling you to get out of the way.

"And so if you find that confrontation uncomfortable it's not the right industry for you."

Getting into the industry

To get into the industry it is not just about training, says Pak. While it demonstrates you are serious about wanting to work in the industry you have to be tenacious, push your way in and develop relationships.

Pak says despite a lack of internal industry overview, dialogue and awards -  it's important for emerging techs to see it as an industry (rather than how he felt 25 years ago that it wasn't a real job) so they can explore multiple avenues which could include creating art on the side but also finding a niche within the market to support themselves.

The career path from there also harks back to his beginnings.

"If you want to do something else jump track to the left or the right because ultimately it's beneficial to everyone else in the industry the more skills you have across many areas. If you want to go out to the rest of the world into the entertainment industry with these skills the great thing about New Zealand is your breadth of knowledge, you can't train like that anywhere else in the world, if you choose to leap around and try different things."

You also have to be solution focused, talk realistically about the problems and instantly come up with solutions - lots of them - and be willing to listen to everyone elses.

"It's often the guy sweeping the floor whose just been quietly observing everything falling apart from a distance who comes up with the solution."

If you are fatigued, under budget and time constraints it's easy to get tired and snappy towards the end and not sweep the floor one last time but you can't, says Pak, because "when you let the line go and let it go slack the negative result is you haven't built as much as you can to create those moments of emotion for the audience."

Emotional experience

It's an emotion Pak still enjoys. While he doesn't spend much time in the audience he still scouts the crowd in the first and second half of a show to catch the vibe and energy and see how the show looks.

It's also an emotion he can feel keenly. He recalls, with visible emotion, a young boy with cancer taken out of hospital to go to Christmas in the Park in Christchurch. Pak was touched by it and after the show arranged for the boy to met Suzy Kato, whom the boy loved and watched every day.

In the dark, as the cranes were removing the equipment during the load-out, he saw the boy's face light up when he met Suzy and watched the smile stay on his face as his parents wheeled him away. The young boy died within seven days.

"To see that kind of payback on his face was worthwhile, it makes all the weeks of traipsing around in the rain and the mud worth it."

It keeps his job real and is in contrast to the surreal nature of setting up, watching the result, putting the gear back in the truck to go back to where it came from only to be pulled out again and put together differently next time.

As the last container trucks pick everything up, leaving only the imprints on the grass as a reminder of what was once there, he invariably has a moment where he stands there and thinks "it's 11 and a half months until we do this again."

Photo and story by Cathy Aronson