Sometimes a speech doesn’t look great on paper. Just like the words of most songs look pretty drab sitting on a piece of paper. You can get a fancy fountain pen and parchment, and they might look more Instagram-able. But still…
Sometimes the words don’t work with all people either. Anyone who has ever been in a karaoke bar will know that! (I sang for my supper in inland China once – 250km west of Xian. But that’s another story! Thankfully no film exists!)
But it’s words AND the people who deliver them that are my job. “Content” and “Delivery” I call them when discussing a new project with a client. But while a speech should be made for a specific audience, with a specific purpose – it should also be written for and from a specific person.
On my last visit to California, I visited friends who work for a hero of mine Arnold Schwarzenegger, and I got to pose with the Conan sword. But I’m no Arnold. (And only a barbarian when I speak French to Parisians – but everyone else is too, so it doesn’t really count!). I simply wasn’t strong enough for that sword – it wasn’t made for me.
Another example. A friend was Head of Communications in a membership organisation with a fine and distinguished record. A chartered organisation no less. The head of this organisation was having trouble delivering speeches, and he had asked me to watch him “perform” and to give him some advice on how to improve his performance. The cheapskate only deals in gin and good suppers but fair enough. I said the two speechwriters were the problem. He was shocked as they were young and bright and well educated. The problem: they were writing speeches for an Oxbridge southerner. But these young bright south England lads were putting those strange and weird words in the mouth of a northerner who spoke northern words and thought northern thoughts in northern ways – it was never going to work! (The kids now have fancy jobs elsewhere, and the boss is still there!)
Confession: Sometimes, I make the same mistake. I write a great speech – but it doesn’t work for that person. It’s my fault. It’s out of balance – out of sync. I’m the speechwriter. But I’m also the speaker coach and a ridiculously demanding one who always wants more. I have focused on the speech too much and not enough on the speaker. I need to be careful to match the power of the speech with the ability of the speaker. And elevate and stretch them both!
When I worked for the Sri Lankan Prime Minister (This was a pretty big deal for him, let alone me!) I insisted upon being in the room for days while he carried on with his business BEFORE I wrote the speech and worked with him — learning his voice and his inflexions and his style. That was part of the success of the speech and why it was HIS speech and not mine! (At the same I was obviously also looking at content and finding out what he wanted to achieve).
I was shown this video by a friend who is a well known New York-based stage manager. He’s worked on some amazing shows. We have different jobs, and we are separated by geography, and superficially, some would think, by our politics. But we both love the performances we help our clients to create when people and words come alive together.
What matters is the outcome. Watch this delivery. I have no words to describe it. But I know what it did to my friend and it gave me goosebumps. And it made me write this post. The sole content: one word. Amen.