Jan 1, 1999 12:00 PM, Philip De Lancie

It's clear from the recent history of the entertainment business that the public's appetite for the past is no less voracious than its craving for the new. This is obvious not just from the recent spate of movies based on the TV fare of yesteryear, or the theatrical re-release of classics such as The Wizard of Oz and Touch of Evil. Consider also the tremendous boom the music industry has enjoyed by reissuing yesterday's records as today's CDs, and the home video industry's lucrative trade in movies long since gone from theater screens. And even in "new media," where the mantra "content is king" has mercifully faded from overuse, the marketability of existing entertainment assets remains unquestioned.

Unfortunately, just as the economic value of existing content is now taken for granted, so too is the notion that the material will always be around, ready and waiting for reuse. Yet much of this material-prized by some for its profit potential and others as cultural history-has already exceeded all reasonable expectations for the longevity of its original medium. In the early days of audio tape, for instance, the emphasis was on achieving acceptable performance rather than preserving posterity, and few could predict the long-term interactions of the component materials used. Many original recordings have survived remarkably well, but countless others are either partially compromised or permanently damaged.

The solution to the preservation problem is two-fold: transfer older tapes to new stock-hopefully in a transparent, high-fidelity format-while at the same time stabilizing the condition of original masters through proper storage techniques. The fundamentals of retarding deterioration are well-established, though frequently overlooked. Oozing splices are replaced, hopefully before they stick to and tear off adjacent layers of oxide. The tapes are packed off tails-out with a smooth, even wind. And the masters are stored in a stable environment of cool, dry and clean air.

The storage step is the one that concerns us here. Whatever their merits as centers of recording activity, cities like New York, Los Angeles and Nashville are rarely thought of for their archival-quality air. In fact, it is doubtful that the climate of any spot on Earth meets year-round the ideal of low temperature and low humidity. So storing precious masters down in the cellar, up in the attic or under the bed-or even in a typical air-conditioned office environment-is not recommended. Nor is a locker down at the local self-store. The best place for masters is in a facility specifically climate-controlled with long-term storage in mind.

MASTER CONTROL The major labels are no doubt aware of the preferred storage conditions for their tapes; the extent to which each has acted on this awareness varies according to its wisdom and resources. But what of the vast and varied collections of tapes that are in individual hands, or that sit in recording studio storage rooms, forgotten soon after the album is released? With more and more artists retaining or regaining control of their masters, the need for facilities to preserve those masters for the long haul is growing.

The trend toward greater artist and producer control has worked out well for David Wexler, owner of Hollywood Vaults, a storage facility he designed from the ground up for long-term preservation of film (photographic and motion picture) and tape (audio and video). The music industry in general may be less educated about the need for proper storage than the film and video industries, where, Wexler says, "the need for appropriate storage is a given." Even so, he estimates that about 50% of his business is now music industry-related.

Wexler started Hollywood Vaults in 1985, after an initial foray into filmmaking left him looking for a more entrepreneurial outlet for his talents. Over the years he has acquired a broad array of professional affiliations in his field, ranging from SPARS, SMPTE, American Film Institute, Technology Council of the Motion Picture-Television Industry, Society for the Preservation of Film Music and Association for Recorded Sound Collections on the one hand, to Society of American Archivists, Material Handling & Management Society, Self-Service Storage Association and American Society for Industrial Security on the other. In addition to operating Hollywood Vaults, Wexler is a design consultant to clients such as Walt Disney Studios, Paramount Pictures, Sony Studios, Technicolor Film Laboratory, CORBIS, Eastman Kodak Co., Steven Spielberg Foundation and Pearl Jam.

Because confidentiality is one of the fundamentals of Wexler's trade, the names of Hollywood Vaults' own clients are not publicly divulged. But a recent tour of the facility confirmed that they include some of this century's top names in entertainment (or their estates). In one vault you can see master tapes of albums by Platinum-selling recording artists, in another stacks of photo boxes containing images of some of our era's most important political and social figures, and in a third reels of film from early movie comedy pioneers. To emphasize his clients' stature without revealing their identities, Wexler has figured out that between them they have received more than 200 Oscars, Grammys and Emmys.

"Our record industry clients," Wexler says, "tend to be artists and producers who like to keep on top of their masters, to keep track of their own media assets. The labels should keep their collections in conditions like this, but often they don't. So it tends to be individuals who really care about their original materials. And producers are very often the ones that are in the best position to gather everything together, prepare it for storage, and make sure it gets put in an appropriate place." Wexler says he is working with the Music Producers Guild of the Americas to spread the word about tape preservation technologies.

Hollywood Vaults is obviously not the only facility catering to the storage needs of the entertainment industry. But Wexler is eager to point out some of the differences in approach between his facility and those of many of his competitors. "Most of the other places are not purely storage operations, but also delivery services. You call them up when you need a particular item, and if they are open, they bring it over to you. If not, you have to wait. And the materials themselves are generally stored in large, open warehouses. Everybody's stuff is all together, which can raise some concerns about security."

Wexler decided to take a different approach, based on the self-storage model but with an environment tailored for film, tape, photos and digital media. Hollywood Vaults offers no pickup or delivery services. Instead, each client has 24-hour access to a storage area containing only their personal materials. And while Hollywood Vaults can provide information and put clients in touch with professional archivists or librarians, the company does not directly aid clients in organizing or preparing their materials for storage.

WEXLER'S WORLD What is most interesting about Hollywood Vaults as a potential model for record industry storage facilities is the building itself and the environment Wexler has created within it. The purpose-built structure on a quiet Hollywood side street was at capacity within two years of opening, leading him to undertake an expansion, completed in 1997. The addition maxed out the current site at 13,500 square feet, and left the $4 million facility about 70% full.

It is evident from the moment one arrives on the premises that Wexler has thought out every detail. Primary access to the building is through a secure ground-floor parking area where clients can load and unload materials at their leisure; a compressed air hose hangs nearby for blasting dust off of boxes before they are brought in. As you step toward the entrance, frosted glass panels glide back with a swish reminiscent of doors on the Starship Enterprise. Passing through a downward airflow that creates a barrier between inside and out, you enter a realm of gleaming glass, sparkling stainless steel, and glossy waxed linoleum floors set off against matte-gray cinderblock walls. Crisp, quiet and spotless, it feels wholly removed from the urban grit of the world outside.

The bulk of the facility's storage space is found in five main vault rooms, where high-density mobile shelving units may be cranked left or right to open up aisles for access to individual storage areas. The vertically adjustable shelving is two feet deep and either eight or nine feet high. Rented on a monthly basis, spaces are available in six sizes with total shelf widths ranging from 6 to 42 feet. A 6-foot "aisle vault," Wexler estimates, has room for about 850 10-inch reels of half-inch tape, while the 42-foot "double vault" could handle some 7,000. For less extensive collections, Wexler offers "media safes" and "media lockers" ranging from one to 13 cubic feet. And for true cold-storage of film and negatives, there are three "cryogenic freezer units." (The chilling of living beings for future revival is discouraged.)

Wexler maintains the vault rooms at 45degrees Fahrenheit and 25% humidity, conditions he says are optimum across the whole range of materials at the facility. The low humidity, he points out, is particularly important for audio tape formulations that are prone to hydrolysis (also known as "sticky shed" syndrome), in which polyurethane in the tape's binder absorbs atmospheric moisture, causing urethane molecules to migrate to the surface and gum up the tape path during playback. "At the least," Wexler says, "low humidity will prevent or slow that process by keeping the binder dry. But there is also some evidence suggesting that over time, very dry air can actually dry out the tapes, making them playable again, and eliminating the time-consuming, costly and potentially damaging process of baking the tapes before transfer."

Each of the vault rooms is equipped with carbon and particulate filters to remove contaminants from the air. Additionally, the fifth and newest room features "molecular sieve" filters to combat the "vinegar syndrome" that plagues "mag," the oxide-coated film used in audio production for movies. "The acetate base film used in mag," Wexler explains, "is a natural product made from cellulose acetate, which was originally cotton. As the mag ages, moisture and heat and iron in the oxide can cause the acetate to break down, which releases acetic acid (which smells like vinegar). Eventually the film base breaks down. It deteriorates, shrinks and becomes deformed, which causes the oxide to fall off. So in many cases the sound elements for a film present more of a preservation problem than the motion picture film itself."

HAZARDS AND SECURITY While Hollywood Vaults' temperature and humidity systems are sufficient for most of the media types that come the company's way, there is one type of material that Wexler does not allow on premises: silver nitrate films, which are known to be highly flammable under certain conditions. The entire building is concrete, and Halon fire-suppression systems are installed throughout. But the facility is not set up to handle such films properly, and even if it were, the presence of such material would undermine one of the primary services the company offers its clients: the security of knowing their valuable assets are safe from harm.

For the same reason, Wexler does not maintain a backup generator: Storing a tank full of diesel on-site, he reasons, poses a potentially greater risk than does loss of power to the air conditioning and dehumidifying systems. "The vault rooms will hold their temperature and humidity for several days without power," he says, "as long as there is not a lot of traffic in and out. Even if there is a natural disaster such as an earthquake that keeps the power off, I wouldn't expect to see a lot of people rushing to the vault to pick up their tapes." Other systems such as lighting, security and access control are kept in operation during power outages by battery backup. And as for overall structural integrity in a quake, Wexler says the building is designed for a load of 450 pounds per square foot, nine times the seismic requirements.

If natural disasters are not much of a concern, what about a human hazard such as theft? It takes several successive stages of PIN-code controlled entry-the garage door, the main entry, the vault room and the individual vault-to get to the goods. Because Wexler can easily change the PIN-codes, former employees or clients can be immediately removed from system. And Wexler is on premises most weekdays, kept company in his office by 20 TV monitors fed by security cameras located inside and out. "A security patrol checks the building nightly," he adds, "and the facility is monitored by a central security station 24 hours a day for heat, smoke, fire, flood, temperature, humidity and intrusion."

It is clear from a tour of Hollywood Vaults that Wexler is devoted to detail, from the spit-polish of the floors to nice touches like jackets (it's cold in those vaults!) and work areas for clients (complete with phone, fax, Internet access and label makers). Though the facility does not represent the only viable approach to media asset storage, it certainly seems to be a model worthy of consideration by the record industry. (For a virtual tour, go to www.hollywoodvaults.com.) Hollywood Vaults and others in the field have shown how long-term preservation of original materials might be achieved, but without more in the music business following their lead, much of our recorded musical heritage may still be heading for a slow fade to silence.

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