Inside ‘Woodland Hills Foley,’ a Dance Foley Workflow Built for Musicals
- Matthew Kallen
- Jan 13
- 6 min read
Updated: Feb 10
Mark Friedgen has a unique way of describing his work when musicals need dance foley.
“How I create dance foley,” he begins, pausing as if he knows how strange this sounds. “Or, how I make something work that never worked before.”
He is matter-of-fact about it, even blunt about how uncommon his process is.
“I’m for sure the only person who does the dance foley the way I do,” Mark tells me.
“It seems crazy and very time-consuming. Everyone I tell about it has an idea of how to do it faster or offers something else. But this way has worked for me time and time again.”
He even has a name for it. Since the core of the method happens in his living room in Woodland Hills, he calls it the “Woodland Hills Foley” method.
It sounds like a joke until he explains why it exists.
Where “Fix It in the Mix” Didn’t Fix It
Mark’s method began with a memory that still lingers.
Back in the late '80s, he was the foley supervisor on a film with musical numbers that needed dance foley. The approach was straightforward: hire dancers, get on the foley stage, and record the numbers properly.
They brought in eight dancers and spent three days recording. Multiple passes. Layering. Doing everything you’re supposed to do to build up coverage.
But there was a problem that only became obvious later.
“For the dancers, they were more concerned with doing the proper moves to match the performances and not really caring how the steps actually sounded,” he explains. “Not good.”
He left the foley stage frustrated, hoping they could fix it later in the mix.
That didn’t happen.
At the final mix, they brought up the dance foley, and the director reacted instantly. “What the h is that!?”
"It never sat right." The mixers tried to work with it, then pulled it out again because it was distracting. In the end, none of those three days made it into the final cut.
Then came the invoice...
Mark remembers handing an invoice to a producer on the last day of the mix. Fourteen thousand dollars for dance foley they didn’t use. “Needless to say, he wasn’t happy to sign the check for that one.”
It’s moments like these that force a decision. Either accept that dance foley is a losing fight or figure out a different approach.
Four Stomps That Changed Everything
Fast forward to 2006 and Disney's High School Musical.
Kenny Ortega, the director, recorded a wild track of his dancers. It was short. Only four stomps, recorded wild in a gym.
But those stomps had two essential qualities: natural reverb from the gym and small, subtle variations between each hit.
Mark used those four stomps to enhance dance foley across the entire movie. He could layer them in different ways, and crucially, they sounded correct in scenes shot in that same gym.
Then he noticed something that became the backbone of “Woodland Hills Foley.” The stomps were synced to the beat of the song, not matched to the picture.
“In this way, the foley played along with the song and didn’t distract,” he says. “Not every footstep was covered or needed to be covered. Just covering the bigger action was enough.”
That was the pivot.
Dance foley doesn’t behave like regular foley. If it competes with the music, the audience hears it as wrong, even if the feet technically line up with the choreography. When it’s treated like a percussion element that supports the track, it stops calling attention to itself.
This led Mark to a deceptively simple question:
“How many ways are there to stomp?”
Building a Library in a Living Room
Mark didn’t set out to record dance foley at home because it was charming. He did it because it was controllable.
He began recording himself stomping at different intensities in his living room in Woodland Hills.
The room mattered. It was large, with high ceilings, wood, and brick floors.
In other words, it had exactly what the “real” sessions often lacked: a consistent acoustic signature that sounded like a space where dance could plausibly exist.
He recorded a lot of material, then brought those recordings into Pro Tools and started building pre-mixes.
For the bigger stomps, he would layer and build up to around 60 tracks. Small to big, then bounce them down into usable elements. The result was full, with a strong low end and natural reverb that didn’t sound artificial.
He didn’t stop with stomps. He recorded normal steps, spins, slides, and tennis shoe squeaks.
There’s a practical reason it holds together in a mix.
“By recording all these sounds in the same room with the same microphones, they can be used together and sound like they belong,” he explains.
Most of the tracks work best for interior scenes, but he’s found that many can still work on exterior scenes because the music covers up much of the natural reverb.
This consistency is the core of “Woodland Hills Foley.”
It’s not about a single clever sound. It’s about building a palette that already fits together before it ever hits the stage.
The Song is Always the Master
When Mark uses a custom library on a project, he doesn’t start by chasing feet on screen. He starts with the song.
“The song is always the master,” he states.
The stomps are cut to the music. Sometimes he uses a click track. Other times, he uses a drum stem to match the beats.
He begins by adding the bigger stomps, then works down, layering and combining different stomps to create something unique. The music and the action tell him when to cut them in. Once the stomps are in, he does an intensity pass and refines his choices. A step might be too big or too small. One track swapped can change the feel of the entire section.
He'll also offset one or more steps so it doesn’t sound robotic or MIDI synced.
“Everyone isn’t dancing perfectly together, much like they would in real life,” he explains.
This is where the time goes. It’s long and slow. Each song can take two days or more. Some songs cooperate. Some fight back.
After the dance foley is built, he starts adding and layering sound effects, always keeping the music in mind and staying on beat. He’s not trying to fill every gap. He’s trying to add what the scene asks for.
“Many times less is more,” he says. “The song and action will tell you what’s needed.”
Then comes the test he cares about most.
“In the end, you should be able to mute the music and the sound effects retain a musical quality on their own.”
During the final mix, decisions get made (see our other blog post.). What stays, what goes, and what needs to shift. But he says the dance foley is usually very helpful because it brings the songs to life without fighting against the music tracks.
Descendants 4 and the Sound of an Army
Mark points to Descendants: The Rise of Red as a clean example of this method.
Early in the movie, there’s a song with soldiers stomping in unison. It was a perfect candidate for a full dance foley pass. The marching was cut to the music, and he followed the same steps he always follows.
He pulls up a session screenshot. At the top is the drum stem from music editorial, used to match the stomps in time with the song. Each stomp is built from multiple layers at different intensities. When they play together, it feels natural, like a group. The sequence gets further refinement as more effects come in, including fireworks and explosions.
And then he says the part people never believe at first.
“When you watch Descendants: The Rise of Red, remember that all those soldiers stomping around is just me by myself in my living room,” he tells me. “Oh, the magic of sound.”
That is “Woodland Hills Foley” in one sentence.
One person, one room, and a process refined the hard way that has quietly become part of the signature on more musicals than you would guess.
For more examples of Mark’s supervising work, check out his *IMDB or titles including:*
Conclusion: The Art of Dance Foley
Mark Friedgen’s “Woodland Hills Foley” method is a testament to innovation in sound design. His unique approach to dance foley has transformed how musicals incorporate sound. By focusing on the song as the master and creating a cohesive library of sounds, he ensures that the foley enhances rather than distracts.
In a world where sound can often be overlooked, Mark’s work stands out. It proves that with creativity and dedication, one can create magic in the most unexpected places.
As musicals continue to evolve, so too will the techniques behind them. Mark's journey illustrates the importance of adapting and refining one’s craft. The future of dance foley is bright, and with pioneers like Mark leading the way, we can expect even more exciting developments in the world of sound design.
