Yesterday, in the midst of working on Genius Hour schedules, Digital Lab changes, and tutorial videos for the MacAirs our students are using this year, I decided to go back to the nondescript room behind my bedroom to work on my “recording studio” (of sorts).
It’s a cinder block walled room with little light and less space, but I’m making it work for some close-up photography projects and green screen video. I bought 2 umbrella lights and 2 soft lights along with the stand and assorted curtains for green screen. When lit, it doesn’t do a half-bad job.
I set up my Swivl on a tri-pod and placed my iPhone on to do the video recording. I plugged in the audio jack to use the Swivl remote as my microphone and set about recording a 5-minute video on the d.school process and why we use it at our school. Its part of a project I’m doing for parents this year.
I uploaded the video to Google Drive and pulled it into Camtasia. The video didn’t look too bad, but the audio. Ouch! The Swivl microphone was spiking with packets of really loud sections that sounded like I started yelling for some reason.
I decided perhaps I had hung incorrectly, so I went back to the studio. This time I set my Canon DSLR up to record. I talked my way through the entire thing. Ported the video back into Camtasia. I forgot to turn the Swivl on. No sound at all.
I did it again. The same audio problem occurred, so I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn’t going to get this video done that day.
My next step was to go to Amazon and order a lavalier lapel mic to plug into my phone. I can record the video with the DSLR and the audio on my phone, then edit them together in Camtasia. The mic will be here on Tuesday. That gives me time to actually iron the green screen (the wrinkles will cause me problems) and reset the lights.
The irony of this situation hit me while I was on my 3rd iteration. Here I was trying to tell parents that our PBLs, marinated in the d.school process encourage failure. As kids go through the 5 steps of empathy, definition, ideation, prototyping, and testing, we tell them up front that nothing works as planned the first time. Or the second time. Or even the third, fourth, or fifth time.
It didn’t make it feel any better, but these iterations of failure certainly gave me a chance to practice what we preach.