The Bill Alexander Story – KOCE

“It didn’t look much like a television station. The other one that I had been in was right in the center of Hollywood, with traffic all over the place and lots of concrete. KOCE was on a college campus, with grass and trees all around. Bright, eager students and young television people were running here and there. I liked it from the start.”

— Bill Alexander

When Bill arrived at KOCE, he brought many of his paintings with him. These were ones he had done at the shopping malls. He didn’t know exactly what they wanted, and he figured they, most likely, didn’t know what they wanted either.

DON

Bill’s agent introduced him to Don Gerdts, who, at the time, was in charge of production. Don would go on later to become the station manager. To Bill, Don looked like many of the other television executives he had met. Hundreds of pieces of paper covered his desk. His mustache and goatee reminded Bill of some of the villains in old Errol Flynn movies. Bill, though, saw Don had a friendly face and they soon became good friends.

When Bill showed him his paintings that first day, Don spent quite a while looking at them. He didn’t say anything at first. Finally, he asked “Can you do paintings like this in a half hour?”

“You bet!,” Bill responded right away. “It’s a piece of cake!” Bill was bragging a bit because he wanted to have the chance to prove himself.

Don reclined in his chair and made a steeple out of his hands and thought for what seemed like a long time. “Tell you, what,” he finally said. “We’re a new station, and public television doesn’t have much money. But we want to try some new things here. We’ll do a pilot if you can do a painting in a half hour. It’s a freebie — no money — but if the show does okay with the public, we can think of a series. Can you do it?”

Bill would do almost anything for that chance! “Will there be an audience?” he asked. “I’ve always worked with people, and they’re important to what I do.”

“Can’t do it,” Don replied. “It would cost too much and take too much set-up time. Besides, we want you to talk to the viewer at home. We’ll work with you, though, and try to capture your style on tape.”

That bothered Bill a bit. He had no idea what it would be like to paint just for the camera. Already he was beginning to get nervous.

“Suppose we get good response.” Don interrupted Bill’s thoughts. “How much do you want?”

Bill had heard that before. “Well, he said with a smile, “you pay me whatever I am worth, whatever is fair.” And that was the agreement he and Don had from that point forward. Bill trusted Don and events proved that trust to be well founded.

PILOT

That first taping day, though, Bill didn’t know what was going to happen. Don introduced him to Gary Greene, Bill’s director. Gary asked Bill what he needed for props and then took him to the studio. They got right to work.

The studio was full of cables on the floor and what seemed like hundreds of lights overhead. There were sets everywhere with just a facade. Nothing seemed solid except the cables on the floor and the huge cameras. Not exactly sure what format they should use, they decided to try painting as Bill had done in the malls — with lots of power and energy. Gary had a difficult time keeping Bill framed in the camera lens during the rehearsals. Bill moved around a lot when he fired in. Gary told Bill he had to stand still and not move around. That just wasn’t the way Bill painted. He felt cramped and alone.

They finished rehearsing and set up to tape. The studio lights came up and blazed onto the set. The only things Bill could see were cameras. He was nervous to say the least. If you have ever seen television cameras you know they don’t seem natural. A camera is a big box with wires. They stand silent and unmoving with a big red light on top glaring at you. Then ,Gary said, “Let’s roll tape.” The cameras seemed to get even bigger and more intimidating.

The lights made Bill sweat. He wasn’t comfortable with the makeup. He worried about staying on his marks so he would be in the picture. He worried about his German accent. “Would the audience hold that against him,” he wondered.

Bill was hoping that there might be even one or two people around as an audience. Except for Bill, the director and the cameraman, the studio was empty. And that big red eye — it just didn’t seem to be a friendly environment.

But Bill started gathering images in his mind and thinking about all the people he had seen and met over the years in the shopping malls. He thought about the old mamas, the young students, and his friends at Aldergrove. He thought about the hundreds of wonderful people Margarete and he had met and laughed with over the years. They were part of this audience and they would be out there somewhere.

“Hello,” Bill said to the red light. “My name is Bill Alexander, and I can teach you how to paint.” Then he started firing in.

After it was over, Bill felt awful. He thought, “Boy, that was miserable.” He kept walking off his marks, and he worried about the exact timing of the painting. He wondered if he was saying the right things.

Bill didn’t hear anything for a while, so he and Margarete went back to work painting in galleries and shopping malls. Bill felt like he was a total failure as a television personality. That was his big chance, and he had let the son-of-a-gun camera run away with it.

Chapter Eighteen: A Happy Time!