The phone rang … suddenly … shrilly. P.S. stretched out his hand and hesitated – was this a trap? What fiendish question was he now to be asked ? He overcame his fear and picked up the phone, hand trembling slightly. ‘Hello, production office’ he said. No one answered, but he could hear heavy breathing through his earpiece. He glanced at his colleague T.H. and his eyes indicated the extension, which T.H. slowly lifted to his ear.

‘Hello’ said P.S. again. The muscles of his jaw twitched and his steel-blue eyes narrowed through the thick cigar smoke that filled the office. Both men were still, tense. The phone had not rung for at least two minutes and now – this. The tension became unbearable and beads of perspiration trickled slowly down his temples, dropping from his chin and staining the blotter on his desk. He could still hear the breathing of his adversary and faintly in the distance, revolver shots – one! two!! Immediately a voice at the other end – metallic, authoritative – called: ‘Hold it there – don’t move’. P.S. tensed. It was not the first time this situation had arisen. Twice before this very day he had heard those shots, and the cold command to stay still. He glanced quickly at T.H. on his left. T.H. sat still, relaxed, but ready to move instantly to back up his colleague in any emergency. The pencil drummed lightly on the ash tray before him. Both men were experienced operators and had passed through these crises many times before. There had been that time with the lions and panthers when only feet had separated them from a terrible mauling – and they were still in action: and again, when all seemed lost, and they had fought their way through the Russian mob and beaten the crime – and punishment. But this – this, was different. P.S. glanced swiftly at the schedule hanging by his side. Nothing sinister – all should have been quiet. But it was always in these moments of apparent calm that the greatest danger came. Although it seemed like hours, in fact only a few seconds had elapsed since that first terrifying ring.

Suddenly the door was flung open and D.N. stood framed in the opening. His sharp eye took in the situation at a glance. ‘What now?’ he gritted and took one sharp, nervous pace into the room. P.S. held up his free hand in a gesture of silence. D.N. stood stock still, his eyes never leaving the telephone in P.S.’s hand.

In an instant the tension broke as a sharp, incisive voice said ‘Is that the production office? Oh! Studio 5 here – will it be all right if we go to lunch five minutes early?’ The air whistled through P.S.’s lips in a surge of relief. ‘O.K.’ he said. Slowly he replaced the receiver, slumped back in his chair and lit a cigarette. Another crisis over. He smiled: ‘How about a quick jug in the club before lunch?’ There was a quick flurry, the slam of a door and – silence.

I must confess that the above is a slight exaggeration, but sometimes this is how it appears to us on extension 207 in the production office at Wembley. It is not a large office, but every day from early morn until half an hour after the last studio closes, these is always a duty manager on hand to answer queries on studio technical requirements, dressing room allocation, special effects, staff problems, hygiene, safety first, and 100 other subjects of a production, whether it be of a personal or domestic nature.

On average, about 15 productions are transmitted, telerecorded or videotaped every week at Wembley, and four or five at Television House.

Those of you who read articles on ‘Hippodrome’ and ‘The Informer’ in Fusion will have realised the enormous problems facing members of the production teams, and these are but TWO series. Apart from these two there are also other series such as ‘The Rat Catchers’, ‘No Hiding Place’, ‘Orlando’ plus drama, science, schools, features, light entertainment, children’s and religious programmes, all of which have their own (and equally important) administrative problems and, in all of which, somewhere along the line, the production office is involved.

For example, while ‘Hippodrome’ was in production, the production office team were responsible for the housing, feeding (and bedding) of 12 elephants, 12 lions, six tigers, two pumas, and five leopards, plus assorted dogs and trainers – not to mention the acts – Mexican, French, Spanish, and German – who required facilities for cars, caravans and cages and the laying on of electricity, water and heating.

During ‘Ready, Steady, Go!’ every week cloakrooms are set up to take care of the coats and handbags of up to 150 teenagers and while ‘Five o’Clock Club’ is transmitting and recording parents must be accommodated and facilities for them to view the programmes laid on – somewhere. We have in our time, dealt with a fire in dressing room 26, flood in Studio 2, a ‘punch-up’ in Studio 5 and a robbery (and arrest) in dressing room 513.

The post The 007 men on 207 appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

At first sight it would appear to be impossible to connect a death at Broadcasting House, fires in a yard on which Studio 5 now stands, the battle of El Wisket Ridge, two fair-sized boilers and some pumps in Studio 1 at Wembley.

The clue as to how all these things can be linked lies in the name of Jack Elkins who has been making things connect at Wembley ever since 1934, apart from the war years when he was himself connected – to the Army.

Jack Elkins was born in Wales 44 years ago this month (October). George Elkins, his father, came from Nottingham and had gone to Wales to work in a power station at a mine. His mother was a Londoner.

Perhaps that is why his parents decided to move to London when the slump hit the Welsh coal mines in 1928. Jack and his three brothers, moved into a new home where the back gate led out onto fields. They were brought up within reach of the fresh, green countryside. The house was in Kenton and Jack Elkins and his wife still live there but his three children have farther to go for the countryside. As Jack grew up so did the houses – all around them.

Back in 1928 Jack’s father found work at what were then the Wembley film studios on the site now occupied by our studios. One by one the sons left school and one by one they, too, found work at Wembley. Jack was the youngest of the family and the time arrived when he, not unnaturally, joined his father and brothers there as well.

One by one the Elkins have left Wembley. Jack’s father retired from the boiler-room in 1947. He died a few years ago at the age of 82. Fred, who was an electrician at Wembley, is now a lighting charge-hand at the Merton Park film studios. Four years ago Bert also left his job as a set storekeeper to join a film studio. Today he is a camera grip operator at Ealing. Finally, two years ago Alf left the boiler room to work in another boiler house belonging to H.M. Stationery Office.

Only Jack remains, constantly to pop up in all parts of the premises where his job as charge-hand plant supervisor carries him. But back in 1934, when he first arrived, his job only carried him as far as the banks of glass batteries used for the sound equipment – six columns with four dozen batteries in each column.

This is where the first of the apparently unrelated items in the opening paragraph of this article comes into the picture – literally. For ‘A Death at Broadcasting House’ is the film which Jack Elkins remembers most from those early days. The cast included an actor by the name of Val Gielgud.

Wembley belonged to Associated Sound Films when Jack Elkins first arrived. Then it was acquired by British Talking Pictures who developed into Twentieth Century Fox. They used the studios to turn out quota pictures – one, or more, a month.

‘We were kept pretty busy’, says Jack in a characteristic understatement. ‘The interesting thing about those days was the fact that when we arrived in the morning we never knew when we were going home – that day or the next.’

Another interesting feature was the colossal waste of timber. They had an excellent system for clearing a studio of sets at the end of filming. Quick as it undoubtedly was, this method would hardly be considered today despite its attractive, basic simplicity. The idea was for a man to go round with a hammer and knock the supports away from the scenery. (Perhaps this was how the term ‘strike sets’ was derived?) Anyway the result was that the sets crashed down in a twinkling.

The method of disposal after this was also remarkably simple. The shattered remnants were piled up in the yard on which Studio 5 now stands and when the heap became unmanageable it was set on fire. Think of the amount of storage space which could be saved if the same system was adopted today.

Back in 1939, however, another sort of fire blazed up. Jack Elkins left Wembley to join the Rifle Brigade, serving in North Africa with the 9th and 2nd Battalions. ‘We went backwards and forwards across the Western Desert a couple of times’, is his phlegmatic summing up of the war out there. Tobruk, he recalls, was ‘a bit of a shambles’ when he last saw it.

It also appears that life was ’pretty warm’ when his battalion became involved in the Battle of El Wisket Ridge. ‘The infantry took the ridge. Then we were placed up there with anti-tank guns, blankets, ammunition and food. The idea was that we should hold it for three days.’

But they only stayed one day. During it the German tanks attacked continuously despite the fact that 50-55 of them were put out of action by the anti-tank guns. During that day also, his group used up all the ammunition which was supposed to last for three days. At the end of it they were told to disable their guns and make their own way back.

An indication of how ‘warm’ it was can be gathered from the fact that the battalion’s colonel was awarded the V.C.

Back at base Jack Elkins was asked if he could ride a horse. Upon giving a negative reply he was transferred to the Mounted Military Police.

For his remaining 18 months in North Africa Jack Elkins and his horse patrolled army food and lorry dumps. Then, in 1945, after four-and-a-half years out there, he was shipped home and demobbed. Back he went to the boilerhouse at Wembley.

The Wembley studios had meanwhile been doing their bit to win the war by turning out training and other films for the Army Kinema Unit. They, too, were demobbed back into the hands of Twentieth Century Fox and were let out to different film makers in the next few years.

Then, five years ago last January, Jack Elkins, his boilers and the studios were taken over by Associated-Rediffusion. Jack Elkins and the studios (with the addition of grey hair to the former and sundry alterations to the latter) are still with us but the old boilers have gone.

They had been working ever since 1929 (when what are now Studios 1 and 2 were being constructed) and Jack Elkins had been making them function for a good proportion of that time. Two years ago they were replaced by two smooth, shining, almost silent, new boilers. Each one measures 10 ft. by 7 ft. and each has an evaporation of 4,000 steam pounds per hour to provide heat for the radiators and hot water for the buildings. When it is really cold in the winter they have to be fed with 2,700 gallons of fuel a week. In the summer they tick over happily on 200 gallons a week.

‘I wasn’t sorry to see the old ones go. They gave a little bit of trouble occasionally’, says Jack with a slight smile which left the impression that the trouble was more than slight on more than one occasion but that Jack Elkins was equal to his boilers.

There was one day, however, when he was almost beaten – before the new boilers were installed. As he was approaching the boiler-house he heard what sounded like a terrific explosion. He rushed into the building expecting smoke and fury. He was wrong. A hurried inspection revealed that all was apparently well. It was – until they started pumping up oil into the gravity feed tank. The ‘oil’ turned out to be water which had seeped through to the tank under the floor and in through a burst pump connection. The explosion he had heard was the sound of the tank leaving its base and hitting the floor.

That’s about the only time Jack Elkins has come near to hitting the roof – either literally or metaphorically. Normally everything is spick and span as it should be with the man who is also responsible for the eight women day-cleaners, the five male night-cleaners, the one toilet cleaner and one general labourer who come under his domain, not forgetting the two plant attendants who assist him in the boiler-room and around the building on any plumbing job which might turn up. These jobs can vary from alterations to equipment to finding wedding rings down a sink. They also include the ‘practicals’ on a production such as laying on gas or water.

‘They come in cycles. During the summer people mostly seem to want rain, and in winter they want fires and cooking facilities’, says a man who is obviously accustomed to every sort of strange request.

And that brings us to the last of the items in the list in the first paragraph.

‘Excuse me Jack, they say they need some pumps in Studio 1’, says a visitor to the boiler-house.

‘Left it a bit late haven’t they’, says Jack. ‘All right, I’11 come and have a look’.

They got their pumps but then if Jack Elkins has anything to do with it they generally do get what they want.

The post The man who keeps Wembley warm appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

Three years ago on June 9, 1960, the first production was transmitted from Studio 5 at Wembley. Since then thousands of people from this country and from all over the world have come to stand and stare.

Advertising agents and advertisers have goggled at the lighting console, heating engineers have marvelled at the ventilation system, architects have wondered at the high degree of accuracy in the floor level, television experts have come from all over the world and few have gone away without learning something. All have been bemused by the giant doors – there is nothing to touch them anywhere else in the world.

When you live with something like Studio 5 you tend to forget that it is a show-piece just as the people in a town rarely visit an attraction which is a focal point for tourists… unless they want to show it off.

Those directly involved with handling visitors know how deeply people are impressed by Studio 5, but we who live with it tend to forget that this happens. We’ve told the story before, but it’s worth repeating, how the Japanese television engineer was told by a compatriot when he said he was visiting England: ‘You must see Studio 5.’

A brochure has now been printed to give away to visitors and the inside pages of this brochure are reproduced here because we feel that the staff might be interested in seeing what others will receive. Most of the photographs were specially taken by Donald McCullin.

A highly technical workshop like Studio 5 must have an equally skilled staff. In Studio 5 the hands of the craftsmen, artists, technicians that fashion every production, are experienced, talented and thoroughly professional. Even the hand of welcome in the reception hall plays its part. The hands that paint the backcloths. The hands that dress the set with properties. The hands of the make-up artists that prepare the cast for their performance. There are many pairs of hands and all of them help to maintain the high standard. So much to be done: a deadline to be reached every day. The set must be designed, then fashioned, then built. The property men must dress it with the hundreds of bits and pieces. The carpenters must modify, improve and alter. The curtains must be hung – but even in this apparent turmoil there is time for a meal, a drink or a quiet read.

The stage is set, the cast is assembled, the Director arrives and rehearsals begin. High above the studio floor he sits, facing fourteen 21-inch monitors, and selects the picture he wants. His word is everyone’s cue. Flanking him are the Vision Mixer (right) and Production Assistant (left). In the early stages of the rehearsals the Director may have a discussion on the studio floor with the Designer, Floor Manager, Senior Cameraman or artists – but for the performance he sits alone. Each of the two sections of Studio 5 has its own Control rooms but when it is operated as a single unit, one half, 5A, becomes the master and 5B, the slave. Studio 5 is equipped to operate on the 405, 525 or 625 line standard. The Vision, Lighting and Sound controls are situated on the first floor with double windows and have an easy access to the studio gantries. Each section is equipped with four 4½-inch Image Orthicon Cameras and 5A can employ all eight cameras at one time. Lighting Control and the Camera Control Unit downstairs on Studio floor level can be likewise divided, or operated as a single unit.

The final ‘take’ – the last performance – the Studio is stilled before the opening seconds. The set is built, dressed and lit – everything is prepared. The Floor Manager, who hears the Director through his headphones, cues the Studio and the production begins. The cameras swoop in and out or crab sideways, peering, staring, prying. The lights beat down, the floor is tense and alert.

The final shots are taken, the performance ends. In half an hour the Studio is empty – to be filled again tomorrow – and the next day and the day after that. Studio 5 has a healthy appetite. But so has television.

The post The world comes to Studio 5 appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

THE notice on the wall at Casablanca police station was in bold, black Arabic. From above a “rogues’ gallery” picture of a hunted criminal glared the Moroccan equivalent of WANTED.

Mr. Henry Federer, senior designer of the Crane series (Mondays), knew this was the kind of minute detail he had crossed the Straits of Gibraltar to record.

He focused his camera on the poster, knowing that he might need a Moroccan “wanted” notice once filming moved back to London.

No sooner had Mr. Federer clicked the shutter than an inquisitive Moroccan policeman tapped him on the shoulder. Four hours later he finally managed to convince the authorities that he was really quite harmless.

This escapade, one of many, was necessary. For Crane‘s Moorish atmosphere and its accuracy is part and parcel of the success of the series.

Mr. Federer, a genial Austrian, has taken 3,000 pictures in Morocco, which now form a kind of Moroccan reference library—a huge pictorial aid to memory.

He photographed Moroccan life in detail. His camera recorded the inside of houses, the shape of arches, the style in furniture, the patterns on tiles.

“It was difficult,” recalled Henry “because the Moroccan, although tremendously hospitable, would rarely invite you to his home. I just had to go into houses, shoot a picture and apologise for coming to the wrong address.”

The Moroccan instinctive mistrust of the camera was also an obstacle. “One day I tried to photograph some women who were queueing for milk,” said Henry.

“I turned away from them while I adjusted my camera. But when I turned round to shoot all of them had quietly slipped away. It was quite uncanny.”

The result of this photographic safari was a wealth of accurate detail on which Mr. Federer can draw when he is designing the sets at Wembley studios.

A good example of his camera technique are the mosaic floors. A genuine Moroccan pattern square is copied from one of Mr. Federer’s photographs. The pattern is cut into a paint roller. Then the mosaic is painted into the floor of the set with the pattern squares repeating themselves.

In the bazaars, Mr. Federer played the national Moroccan sport — bartering — to get props like camel saddles, colourful pottery, bead curtains and crazy metal pots and pans.

But surprisingly enough most of the Moroccan atmosphere of Crane could be caught with genuine Moorish props hired from one of four firms in this country.

Property master Mr. David Lusby told me: “I reckon we could do the Kasbah from Putney.”

Very little on the Crane set has to be made specially. Said David: “When Cleopatra was being made at Pinewood, Moroccan props suddenly became terribly scarce. Today it is the reverse. A lot of the stuff used in Lawrence of Arabia has come into Britain.”

The biggest headache for the property buyers is trying to match for studio takes items used during location in Morocco.

One of the most difficult during the Crane series was trying to find a left-hand drive 1954 black Ford Mercury. Buyer Mr. Len Fraser told me: “It was just impossible. We couldn’t get one anywhere.

“Then one day I was driving along and I saw a green lefthand-drive Ford Mercury in front of me. I tailed it for three miles.

“It turned out to be a 1955 model. I could hardly believe my luck. All we had to do was to take it to the studio and paint it black.”

Many of the traditional costumes for Crane were specially brought back from Morocco. But when a garment has to be made, details come from Mr. Federer’s photographs or from the Moroccan Embassy library.

As Mr. Ernest Hewitt of costume design said: “We take tremendous care to see that costumes are accurate in every possible detail.”

When the series first went out a VIP delegation from the Moroccan Embassy visited Wembley to make sure that there were no gaffes. They went away satisfied.

A Moroccan Embassy spokesman told me: “We have been surprised and pleased with Crane’s accuracy when dealing with details of Moroccan life. It’s a good show.”

The post Wanted for Crane appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

June 11

Lord Hill announced the details of the new contracts offered by the ITA. The announcement included the proposed merger of Rediffusion Television and ABC Television. ‘Mergers’, he said, ‘are always difficult to arrange…’

September 28

It was announced: ‘Agreement has today been reached, subject to contract, to lease Wembley Studios to London Weekend Television Ltd. for at least three years from May 6, 1968.

‘London Weekend Television has indicated that it expects to use three studios and that its union-graded staff will be recruited in the main from Rediffusion staff.

‘The arrangements made in respect of the studios will materially assist and accelerate the conclusion of the negotiations relating to the formation of the new ABC/Rediffusion company.’

October 19

Following talks with the unions, two statements were made. The first, which concerned A.C.T.T. members, said :

‘The following agreement was reached between the Independent Television Companies and the A.C.T.T. as a result of recent meetings:

1. The companies fully accept that every A.C.T.T. member in Independent Television subject to re-deployment will be employed in the network under the new contract allocation.
2. The companies guarantee to employ in London, with the minimum of disturbance, all A.C.T.T. staff presently employed by Rediffusion Television, and A.B.C. Television, in London in at least their present grades.
3. Yorkshire Television, will employ all A.C.T.T. staff presently employed at A.B.C. Television’s Didsbury Studios.
4. There will be early discussions to deal with problems arising particularly in relation to 2nd and 3rd schedules grades.
5. While this situation maintains, there will be no recruitment from outside the Independent Television Companies and no one employed by one company shall undertake work in television for other organisations.

‘It was also agreed that discussions should take place between the union and each of the new companies, London Weekend Television, A.B.C./Rediffusion joint company and Yorkshire Television, as soon as possible on the question of their general terms and conditions of employment and staffing.’

The second statement was agreed between the Independent Television companies and the E.T.U. and N.A.T.K.E. It said: ‘In connection with the re-allocation of I.T.V. contracts the companies recognize that they must use their best endeavours to re-employ E.T.U. and N.A.T.K.E. members affected by the re-allocation.

‘With this in mind they undertake that in the first instance recruitment will be made from within the industry, with first preference being given to staff directly affected by the reallocation and with the minimum of disturbance.

‘The new companies are sympathetic to the problems involved in the re-deployment of staff and undertake to commence discussions individually with the unions as soon as possible on the general terms and conditions of employment to be applied within their respective companies.’

Also on October 19 a company advertisement stated: ‘Rediffusion Television’s contract ends on July 29, 1968. Until that time it is the company’s policy and firm intent to continue to improve its programme content and to give its advertisers still better service during the next nine months.

‘Already it has been stated that our programme budget has been increased by over 10 per cent. Both the programme and sales departments have been reorganised to adapt to the changing situation.

‘The sales department is geared to give the maximum service to our clients, both directly and through their advertising agencies.

‘Between now and July 29, 1968, the demand for time on Rediffusion Television exceeds anything we have previously known. With the aid of our computer our sales service has been further improved and the whole operation speeded up. We shall continue to be very much in the forefront of the television advertising scene until the completion of our operation.’

October 27

Notice boards were put up at Television House and Wembley for staff to read. They said:

‘ABC Television Limited and Rediffusion Television Limited have reached agreement with the Independent Television Authority on the formation of a new company to operate the London Weekday contract from July 30, 1968.

‘The company will be called Thames Television Limited, and will be based at ABC’s Studios at Teddington-on-Thames with central London studios and offices at Rediffusion’s Television House. The capital of Thames Television Limited will be approximately £6,000,000 divided equally between ABC Television Limited and Rediffusion Television Limited.

‘The board of the new company will be as follows:

• Sir Phillip Warter, chairman (chairman of the Associated British Picture Corporation, and of ABC Television.)
• Robert Clark, M.A., LL.B., deputy chairman (deputy chairman and chief executive of the Associated British Picture Corporation, and deputy chairman of ABC Television.)
• Howard Thomas, C.B.E., managing director (managing director of ABC Television and director of the Associated British Picture Corporation.)
• Brian Tesler, M.A., programme controller (director of ABC Television.)
• A. W. Groocock, F.C.LS., director (director and secretary of Rediffusion Television.)
• George A. Cooper, sales director (director of ABC Television.)
• B. R. Greenhead, controller of studios and engineering (director of ABC Television.)
• J. T. Davey, F.C.A., director (chief accountant of Rediffusion Television.)
• D. R. W. Dicks, director (controller of production of Rediffusion Television.)
• Group Capt. H. S. L. Dundas, D.S.O., D.F.C., director (director of Rediffusion.)

The following senior staff appointments were announced: Jeremy Isaacs, current affairs and children’s programmes (Rediffusion); Lloyd Shirley, drama (ABC); Guthrie Moir, education and religion (Rediffusion); Phillip Jones, light entertainment (ABC); Grahame Turner, outside broadcasts (Rediffusion); Stuart Sansom, engineering department (ABC); James F. Shaw, advertisement department (ABC); M. Lawson, accounts department (ABC).

The message continued: ‘Recruitment of staff from ABC Television and from Rediffusion Television will commence shortly. ‘The redeployment of unionised staff now engaged by Rediffusion will be conducted in exact accordance with the letter and the spirit of the agreements reached at the following National Labour Relations meetings:

a. Meeting with the A.C.T.T. – October 18

b. Meeting with ETU/NATKE – October 19

‘The company will use it’s best endeavours to find satisfying and equally remunerative work for all non-unionised members of the staff.

November 8

A company press statement said:

‘The Rediffusion ACTT shop concluded a meeting with the management at 5.30 p.m. today by registering failure to agree with the company on the amount of ex-gratia payments which the company has offered in addition to the payments required in accordance with the Redundancy Payments Act of 1965.

‘These ex-gratia payments were offered as a result of the termination of the company’s ITA contract on July 29 next year.

‘All the ACTT staff concerned have already been guaranteed further employment in ITV in London after Rediffusion’s contract ends.

‘The commercial break before the ITN News at 5.55 p.m. was blacked out by the ACTT staff.

‘The company had no warning of the action from the ACTT shop. It is considering the position.’

Later there was this joint press announcement:

‘Meetings between Rediffusion and ACTT began again tonight at 9 p.m. They will continue tomorrow in the hope, shared by both parties, that a satisfactory conclusion will be quickly reached. In the meantime normal transmission will continue.’

The post The Facts appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

The heading on the last leader in the summer edition of Fusion was ‘Fused’. Unfortunately there can be no other heading than the one now printed here.

Few editors of house magazines can have had quite the task which now faces this editor. In the last edition at the end of July the leader started: ‘Next month the clouds of obscurity which mushroomed around our future following the ITA announcement about the changes in ITV should begin to clear’.

At the time of going to press in the first week of December they are still as murky as ever. The decision was taken not to publish an autumn edition of Fusion as scheduled unless some facts could be printed about the future of the staff. It was felt that it was better not to bring out Fusion at all rather than to ignore the situation.

There were no facts so Fusion did not appear. There are still few facts as this is written but now the editor feels it is right to bring out a bumper Christmas edition in which he hopes his readers might find some cheer. In the tradition of Fusion there are some features in which we laugh at ourselves. We hope they will provide a few smiles and that nobody will be provoked to take offence.

We hope, too, that by the time this reaches you the murk will have cleared a little; that, for example, the situation of redundancy payments and the winding up of the pension fund will be clarified.

We hope, also, that a few more will have been reassured about their future careers, inside or out of television.

Indeed, we have all been hoping since June and after six months that hope has begun to wear pretty thin. There are many whose patience has been tried to the limit.

We have lived through a miserable period with bouts of industrial action, threats of more and rumours galore. When 1,400 people have their jobs taken away from them there must be upheaval, distress, anxiety and downright dismay.

But need there have been so much? Could not a lot of it have been avoided?

This much must be said: if anybody had sat down deliberately to devise a situation so complicated that it was almost beyond the bounds of reason for anybody to solve promptly, then that person could hardly have done better had he been the architect of the present muddled position.

Any reasonable person must understand the position with which management has had to cope … winding up Rediffusion Television, agreeing with ABC on the formation of a new board for Thames Television, settling on the disposition of the assets of this company, negotiating with Weekend Television on the lease of Wembley, negotiating with the unions on re-employment and ‘terminal payments’. Enough headaches there to last for quite a few months, and indeed they have.

Also any reasonable person must understand the fears and insecurity with which the unions have had to cope. There has been the whole vast question of what was to happen to their members: some to Weekend, some to Thames, some to Yorkshire, none looking at any of it with much enthusiasm.

There have been problems over the seniority acquired with this company, compensation for the loss of security and the tragedy of reduced pension rights which is particularly severe for those over 50.

Any reasonable person must also understand the problems with which the new company, Thames Television, has still to cope. Who are to be the section heads in the various departments? Who are to join from Rediffusion and who shall come from ABC? Will ABC’s 11-6 domination of the first batch of appointments be reflected in the final figures? Many of these question marks still hang over us.

We are all reasonable persons. We can all see that there are many points of view to be considered. Why then has the situation been so unreasonable?

The editor of this magazine can, perhaps, take a neutral line, supporting neither the management nor the unions. Certainly this editorial has been vetted by neither.

If a neutral line is taken what does one see? Fundamentally there has been a terrible lack of communication. But, again, any reasonable person can appreciate the reasons for this.

You cannot make announcements when valuable acquisitions are under negotiation. You cannot communicate when in the middle of delicate negotiations. This applies as much to the unions as the management.

Or can you? Is not this inability to communicate a disease of this country and, indeed, of the world? How many of the current disputes in British industry could be resolved before the strike, go-slow or work-to-rule occurs if there were better communication? How many international disputes and grievances could be settled with better communication?

To come back to home, the irony of all this is that Fusion is supposed to be a method of communication. As a house magazine it has won more awards than most for its contents, for its design and, presumably, for its ability to communicate. Yet, in a situation which demands clear and prompt communication, it has failed utterly to do so. We can take comfort from the fact that many house magazines really limit their communication to pompous statements by the chairman or managing director. Fusion has never had those, nor been asked to publish them.

So when it does come to a crisis how do you communicate? Some industries have a complex system in which house magazines, newspapers, news letters, bulletins and all types of meetings are integrated. It would have been interesting to know how much more all this would have achieved in our situation. Fusion is inclined to think that it is not so much the method as the ability and willingness to do so which matters. And of these two, ability is the key. As the structure of society becomes more and more complex, the need for unequivocal, expert communication grows.

In our present situation, the word ‘communication’ not only covers the obvious statement of facts to others but also – and this is possibly more important – the exchange of views and opinions by those taking part in negotiations.

Everybody knows how a word-of-mouth message can be distorted after passing round a circle at a party game. This, too, is happening far too frequently in everyday life. Put those words into the mouths of people who have an interest in seeing them distorted and confusion piles on confusion.

Too often in this country, negotiations break down or are misinterpreted because of the inability of those concerned – both unions and management – to communicate clearly and without allowing their viewpoints to distort the situation.

It is possibly this endemic disease which has prolonged the negotiations in the present situation.

Every reasonable person will agree that it has all gone on too long. Unfortunately those who have probably suffered most frustration by the silence are those who have had nobody to put forward their views – the non-union members of the staff.

We might send men to the moon and know how to transplant hearts, but we have still to learn how to communicate with each other. And that is the lesson from our sorry situation.

As can be seen from the following two pages there have been quite a few decisions but for the majority of the staff none have yet answered the key questions: ‘What shall I be doing at the end of July?’ ‘How much will I be earning?’ ‘What is going to happen to my pension?’ ‘What compensation do I get for my loss of seniority and security?’

To pile on the agony the death has also occurred of Capt. Brownrigg, our former general manager. That event is dealt with on pages 6-9 of this issue. However, it has a deeper significance which anybody who attended the memorial service must have felt.

The congregation consisted of all sorts of people. There were executives of the company, past and present. There were rank-and-filers. There were leaders in ITV. They all came to mourn his death and remember his achievements.

Tragically, though, the service also marked the end of an era; the end of the first chapter in the history of ITV; the end of Rediffusion Television.

Capt. Brownrigg and the staff of this company played their part in setting up Independent Television in this country and carrying it through its early years.

It has been an exciting time and we can only hope that, when the present murk lifts, the future will be just as stimulating and exciting as the past. And that lessons will be learnt from all we have recently been through.

The editor

The post Confusion appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

Next month the clouds of obscurity which mushroomed around our future following the ITA announcement about the changes in ITV should begin to clear. The end of a period most people will only want to go through once in their career is near.

It has not been a happy time and it must be stated clearly that for some the future will still bring only worry and indecision. The quart of staff at present working for this company and ABC Television will not go into the pint pot of a new joint company.

Nevertheless there has been a categoric assurance from John McMillan, our general manager, that the first consideration in all the many problems to be thrashed out will go to the staff. One cannot ask for more than that.

As soon as possible next month personal interviews will be held with everybody and those who have been selected to join the new company will be informed. The union shops will be told simultaneously. Then the ITV companies and the unions are to organise a Register upon which the names of those not offered jobs will be placed. A similar Register is to be set up at the same time for nonunion staff.

The aim with both these registers is to ensure that everyone is given the chance of re-employment in the industry at the same basic rate of pay as at present. The unions have their own weapons to see that this is done. The non-union staff must depend on the goodwill of others which surely must be forthcoming.

Both must also rely on Lord Hill’s public statement at the press conference on Sunday, June 11 at which he announced the proposition that ABC Television and Rediffusion Television should form a new company.

In reference to the appointment of the Harlech Consortium in place of TWW he said:

‘It will also be a requirement that, when appointing staff, the new company will give prior consideration to the employment of those now working in Independent Television in Wales and the West. I may say at this point that the Authority will make the observance of this principle a requirement in all cases of change (Fusion‘s italics). The sum of the changes we are making will lead to an increase in overall employment in Independent Television; and there should be no reason to fear general redundancy, though there will be individual cases where goodwill and care will be needed and these will be exercised.’

The demise of TWW made the main press headlines. The merger of Rediffusion Television and ABC Television was a secondary story. Yet, in terms of human predicament, the merger presents far more complex problems than those arising from what will probably be a straight takeover of staff and equipment by the Harlech Consortium from TWW.

There will be ‘an increase in overall employment’ (more jobs) but, the formation of a new company in Leeds is not of much value to those whose homes and lives are centred around London.

So that leaves London Weekend Television, the new London weekend group, as a source of jobs. How far they will wish, or be forced by the unions and, possibly, the ITA, to take on Rediffusion staff not re-employed remains to be seen. John McMillan has told Fusion that in his opinion all unionised ITV workers, except those soon to retire, will get jobs starting July 30, 1968 or before with either the new ABC/Rediffusion company or London Weekend Television. One good thing which will, in Fusion’s opinion, probably arise from all this is a transferable pension scheme between all ITV companies and possibly with the BBC as well.

This is vital in view of the fact that a similar situation involving others, if not ourselves, could arise in another six years’ time – or eight – when new contracts are again handed out.

For the present, however, the immediate concern of everybody must obviously be to see that Rediffusion Television continues to operate at the highest possible standard right up to the time it comes off the air on July 29, 1968. We must do this for the sake of our own personal professional reputations quite apart from loyalty to the company and to the public we have chosen to serve by working in television.

This will not be easy but anyone who has decided to make television a career must have a basic desire to serve the public and this service must not be allowed to deteriorate.

As this edition went to press, detailed discussions were being held to form a new direction and management structure and to agree with ABC Television on the disposition of offices, equipment, transport and all the many other factors involved in the merger. One of the most important, of course, will be a decision on the future use to be made of Studio 9, Television House, Hanover Square, Wembley studios and Teddington studios.

By the time this edition is printed decisions may have been reached and announced. If this has not been done rumours will, no doubt, start to circulate. Again management has stated categorically that, as soon as there is anything to say, the staff will be the first to know. So, if rumours are flying, they can be summarily shot down.

It is obvious that there will be many delicate negotiations to be handled with ABC Television and it would be wrong to expect a day-by-day account of them. Indeed, they would be likely to attract press publicity which could prejudice further negotiations.

So the only reasonable attitude must be to wait patiently knowing that we have been promised information as soon as it can be given. There is one happy side to all this which must not be overlooked. Few people have the opportunity in the middle of their careers to review just what they are doing with their lives and what they wish to do in the future and to be given virtually a whole year to think about it.

Obviously this does not apply to those nearing retirement age and one hopes that some system will be devised to ensure that they do not suffer because of the high level decisions which have been made and over which they had no control.

But for those with some years still to work – and the average age of the ITV industry is low – the situation does present an opportunity to make a reassessment of their careers and the pattern of their lives.

As for the pattern of the industry, this would need a really magical crystal ball to unravel. One thing is clear: we have not seen the last television upheaval. Here, verbatim, are the words spoken by the Postmaster General in the House of Commons last month:

‘There remains … the question of the longer-term organisation of broadcasting in Britain. The recently awarded contracts will run from next July to 1974. Two years later, in 1976, the franchise of the ITA and the BBC’s charter, Licence and Agreement will end together. Recently, I have taken steps to ensure that licences of the relay companies, which make up a very important element in our broadcasting system, will end at the same time. So, nine years from now, an opportunity will arise for a fundamental review of the whole system, because ITA, the BBC and the relay companies will all terminate at the same time.

‘As I have said on a number of occasions since I became involved in the subject, I cannot see the present kind of organisation lasting for very much more than the decade which we have ahead of us before those changes take place. In 1969 the Post Office becomes a public corporation. The residual Minister will then have under his wing the two broadcasting authorities, the Post Office Corporation and a number of other residual activities, but he will be freed of all the day-to-day administrative work of the Post Office – that great mass of administrative work which weighs down the Postmaster General. From that time the residual Minister will be able to devote more of his time to broadcasting, and I hope that, in the spring of 1969, a long, cool look will begin at the whole system of broadcasting in this country.’

What other group of people in the country has to work under these terms? Are long, cool looks and the upheaval of individual lives going to be a continuous reward of working in ITV?

Possibly. And possibly it is right that such an important industry should be the subject of long, cool looks – as long as they are not positively frigid. It is not Fusion‘s job to comment on this.

But what Fusion must do is to point out that such events as the breaking up of companies, the holding of ‘fundamental reviews’ (remember Pilkington?) are not likely to create the most conducive atmosphere in which either companies or individuals can flourish. We have the compensation of working in what we all obviously regard as the most exciting, challenging and interesting industry there is. Perhaps we must expect to forfeit the security which comes from working in a bank or insurance.

But, whatever the reasons for ending Rediffusion Television may have been, it must not be forgotten that very talented and dedicated teams of technicians and programme people, and accounts, advertising, publicity, administrative and secretarial staff are also being broken up.

There is no doubt that those who are picked will recreate similar teamwork in the new company but it will take time.

Further, although Fusion does not want to be accused of chauvinism, we do believe that the spirit of the ‘workers’ in Rediffusion Television is and was second to none. The co-operation between individuals, the help one section gives another, the happy working relationships between people from post-room to management, are all indefinable. But they added up to something pretty considerable. Furthermore in the last three years and more there has never been the faintest whisper of a possible stoppage.

The new company will have a flying start if it inherits only this happy spirit.

Meanwhile there is plenty of work to do until July, 1968 and on the remaining 34 pages of this edition Fusion, too, gets back to normal …

The editor

The post Fused appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

IN less than nine months the old Wembley Film Studios have been transformed into the Wembley Television Studio Centre, headquarters for the ITA programme-making activities of Associated-Rediffusion, Ltd.

Only last January work was still in progress at the old Wembley on the film “The Ship That Died of Shame,” but by September 22, the new Wembley was ready for the start of commercial television.

In that comparatively short period the original building has been virtually demolished, one large stage has been converted into four (which are, incidentally, about half as high again as the original), with their complementary multiplicity of control rooms and electronic equipment, involving the installation of close on 20 miles of sound, vision and control cables.

What can best be described as the “technical area” is partly a two and partly a three-storey structure within the main building. On the first floor are the operational control rooms for the stages, and on the second floor is the master control room and the remote control of the lighting equipment. The telecine room is a separate building, but immediately adjacent.

Floor Accommodation

Apart from the studios themselves, the ground floor is occupied by viewing rooms, camera and lighting control rooms, technical stores and work- shops. First floor accommodation includes further control rooms and announcer’s quarters.

The four stages so far completed (a fifth is planned for a later date) are rather smaller in superficial area than is normal in a film studio, and one, No. 3, is really no more than an insert stage.

All, however, are equipped with spot-rails and the flooring is of a special hard grade of rubber, which, it is hoped, will obviate the dangers of buckling and consequent bumping during movement by cranes and dolleys.

As it is common for a television studio to be made more acoustically “live” than the equivalent film studio, a large area of the original acoustic treatment of the walls has been covered by perforated hardboard.

An innovation that might well commend itself to film studios is the addition of visitors’ galleries. These glass-fronted compartments provide an adequate view of what is happening on the stages, but are so well sound-proofed that it will be possible to fit them with low-level amplifiers so that onlookers may hear as well as see what is going on.

Such an arrangement could be a boon to harassed film directors, especially those allergic to sightseers while they are working!

Marconi Mark III cameras, with 44 in. pick-up tubes are being used for studio operations, and similar cameras, but with 3 in. tubes are employed on outside broadcast work, for which there are two magnificently equipped self-contained vans that will, when necessary, have a micro-wave link with the studio. Altogether 21 cameras will be in operation or on call when programmes are going out.

The vision-mixers are of the Marconi relay-operated type, which handle eight inputs. All the sound-control equipment has been supplied by Marconi’s, with optical groove-locator turntables that allow the pick-up to be dropped on the precise required point on the record by an optical plotting system.

The telecine apparatus, made by EMI, is of the 16- or 35-mm. “flying spot” type, and a control system, claimed as unique in this country, has been devised so that the machines (once they have been loaded) can be operated from a remote position.

In addition, there are some RCA Vidicon apparatus similarly available for remote control. In this equipment, the projectors throw their outputs on to a small camera, via an optical multiplexing unit. It enables miniature slides and small opaques to be shown rather after the fashion of the epidiascope.

The master control equipment supplied by Marconi’s provides for the simultaneous switching of sound and vision from eight input channels to two transmission channels, with adequate pre-viewing facilities. Two monoscope cameras provide the setting-up signals.

Lighting Equipment

Of particular interest is the fully remote-controlled lighting equipment supplied by Strand Electric. The control console, a remarkably compact piece of apparatus, allows the whole of the studio lighting set-ups and changes to be operated by one man.

Lighting plans are pre-set and single buttons on the console control a maximum of 10 lamps each, so that changes are achieved with the great flexibility and almost infinite variety required for the televising of continuous live shows.

Dimming is also dealt with from the same console, again on a pre-set system. Lamps (with the exception, of course, of the fluorescents) can be dimmed either individually or in combinations on an infinitely variable period change ranging from 2 secs. to 45 secs.

The control also has a “memory,” which means that lighting plans can be repeated as required.

Because of the sensitivity of the Image Orthicon cameras less lighting can be used than is common in film studios. The lamps themselves are mainly Mole-Richardson incandescents. There are, also, at present in use a number of banks of fluorescents, but it is planned to eliminate these as soon as possible because their narrow spectrum is inclined to give a “noisy” picture.

As the studio is being used for a combination of film and live TV, conventional cameras are necessary as well. To date, most of the film work has been shot on Cameflex, but this is to be supplemented by Mitchells.

Other equipment includes Vinter Pathfinders, Mole-Richardson and Debrie dolleys and M-R booms.

The programmes from the studio go by Post Office land lines to Associated Rediffusion’s headquarters at Television House, Kingsway, and thence to the ITA transmitter at Croydon.

The post In Nine Months TV Transforms Wembley Studios appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

This is the first of several articles to be printed in Fusion” about the engineering side of television broadcasting. Suggestions for future subjects will be welcomed. The word “genlock’ has been frequently used, perhaps far too often by people who do not really know what it means. Here the assistant head of engineering, basil bultitude, explains what it is, why it is used, and the advantages of other forms of generator locking.

To start with, the basic system of television transmission must be understood. A television picture is made up by one small spot of light travelling over the picture screen. It first starts at the top left-hand corner and rapidly travels across the screen in a series of straight lines. With each successive line the spot moves slightly down the screen, and eventually, when 405 lines have been completed, the whole screen has been covered and one picture is said to have been transmitted.

The time taken to transmit one picture is a twenty-fifth of a second. Because of flicker, inherent in this system, two half pictures each of 202½ lines, double spaced, are actually transmitted. Each half picture takes a fiftieth of a second to transmit and is termed ‘one frame’. The light spot varies in intensity related to the brightness of the original scene; although there is only one spot of light on the screen, it is moving so fast that persistence of vision of the eye enables us to ‘see’ a whole picture.

It is obviously necessary for the spots on all television sets to be in exactly the same area of picture at any instant. For this reason, at the end of each line and frame, synchronising pulses are transmitted. These synchronising pulses ensure that the spots in the receivers and in the cameras start a new line or frame at precisely the same time.

Because of interference from the electrical power mains which makes itself felt on the received picture, it is desirable that the frame speed be related to the mains speed (frequency), i.e. fifty per second.

To achieve this, the synchronising pulse generators (SPG for short) at the studio end are locked to the mains. One might think that if several SPGs were locked to the same mains supply, their outputs would be identical. Unfortunately this is not so.

The SPG mains locking system is not rigid but is in fact slightly springy. This means that two such generators locked to the same mains supply will be continuously varying slightly in speed, one with the other, depending upon the fluctuations of mains, and upon the ‘springiness’ of their lock.

Consequently, a picture generated by a camera fed from one SPG may be running at a slightly different speed from the picture of another camera fed from another SPG. This is insufficient to cause any noticeable mains interference, but it is sufficient to prevent superimposition or mixing of these two pictures.

This is, of course, a definite requirement for a television studio, and is achieved by driving all the cameras, etc, within one building from one SPG. At Wembley the SPG is situated in the central control room and at Television House in the master control room.

Sooner or later a situation must occur, when it would be desirable for a picture signal from Wembley to be superimposed upon a picture signal from Television House. The method of achieving this is ‘genlock’. In this system, the SPG at Television House is not locked to the mains but is in fact rigidly locked to the synchronising pulses from the Wembley generator.

Thus the degree of mains lock affecting the Wembley generator will also affect the Television House generator, and in consequence their synchronising pulses should be identical. The pictures from Wembley may then be superimposed on those at Television House. It is obvious that the Television House SPG may be locked to any incoming signal operating on British standards, but only to one at a time.

Thus, it would not be possible to mix pictures from Wembley, Television House and ITN together. If, when a Television House studio or telecine was on the air the SPG was then genlocked, a considerable disturbance would be seen on the pictures. In order to superimpose, one must genlock to a source before ‘taking it’, and because this cannot be done while Television House is on the air, a serious limitation is placed on its use. Attempts have been made to genlock more quickly by a system of automatic genlocking to reduce the picture disturbance. Nevertheless, a picture disturbance of up to four seconds may still take place. Automatic genlocking facilities are now available at Television House. The actual mixing or superimposition may only take place on the station whose SPG is genlocked.

It would be possible for Wembley to genlock its generator to ITN and Television House to genlock to Wembley, thus making a sort of ‘chain genlock’, then all three SPGS. would be running at exactly the same speed. This would mean extending lines from ITN to Wembley in order to carry the locking signal and would mean that ITN could only be mixed at Wembley.

This limitation occurs because of the different path lengths of the signals. The signals travel at roughly the same speed as light, i.e. 300,000,000 meters per second, and quite obviously a synchronising pulse that went from ITN to Wembley and then to Television House would arrive later than the picture signal that went from ITN direct to Television House. Within any television studio centre the path lengths of the various signals are carefully arranged to be the same, and this process is called ‘timing the station’.

From the above it will be seen that the genlocking system, automatic or otherwise, falls far short of the ideal of being able to mix anything anywhere. From our own company’s point of view, this imposes a very serious handicap. Our programmes may come from Wembley, Television House, outside broadcast vans and other programme contractors, all working, of course, on separate synchronising generators. The commercials always come from Television House, thus twice every fifteen minutes a different set of synchronising pulses are fed to the transmitter and of course to the home receivers. The receivers thus have to take up a new sweep speed suddenly, on the cut to and from the commercials and this nearly always results in a ‘frame roll’.

Towards the end of 1958, Associated-Rediffusion engineers attempted to rectify this situation by designing at new form of genlock called Slavelock. In this system the Wembley SPG was locked by a new method to the Television House SPG so that the two stations behaved, electrically, as one. This meant that the Television House SPG could then genlock to other sources, one at a time and the Wembley generator would automatically follow.

The necessary apparatus was built and in June of this year the two stations were locked for the first time by this method. Unfortunately the results were not perfect, the picture verticals from Wembley being slightly ragged. This was due to inaccurate timing. Work had to be stopped on this project because of other commitments, which is sad when we were so near our goal. However, perhaps in the future we may again start melting the solder on this apparatus.

The above is by no means the final answer, it only permitted sources to be mixed or superimposed at Television House and not, say, at Birmingham. Other broadcasting organisations throughout the world are working on the genlock problem. The BBC some months ago suggested that, if instead of locking to the mains, they locked their individual generators to a quartz crystal, they could simplify the problem.

Another idea of achieving a ‘synchronous network’ is that each incoming signal should go through a Standards Converter. A Standards Converter is basically a television camera looking at a television picture monitor. In this system the incoming picture is displayed on the monitor and the camera operated from the local SPG, thus the final picture from the camera is in lock with the rest of the station. This system has undoubtedly much to recommend it. The loss of picture quality in modern Standards Converters of good design is much less than is commonly supposed. However, it is certainly expensive; a Standards Converter costs approximately £20,000.

This is a complex story, and in order to try to explain it I have had to take some technical licence with the explanation, and for this I hope I may be forgiven by my engineering colleagues.

The post How it works… The Problem of Genlock appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

If a doodle-bug had cut out two seconds earlier, perhaps Robert Taylor’s trousers would never have become covered in distemper when he was filming ‘A Yank at Oxford’.

The man who put the distemper on the trousers was in a train the doodle-bug would have hit. He is Bill Bolton, a scenic painter at Wembley, and those two events are just two episodes from a pretty varied life in show business.

Bill is a Londoner, born in Marylebone at the turn of the century. He did a four year apprenticeship before taking up the tools of a house decorator. ‘I was a member of a working man’s club at St James’,’ says Bill Bolton, ‘and we used to meet a lot of people there who made a bit more money by working at a theatre in the evening. I liked the idea of show business, so I did it too – and I have been connected with it ever since’.

‘Doing shows’ meant working behind the scenes as prop man, stage hand or flier man, depending on which was needed. The rates were 3s 9d a show, going up to 4s. ‘I worked in all the West End theatres except His Majesty’s, the Haymarket and the Opera House,’ recalls Bill with a grin. ‘I never could make them’.

One of the shows he remembers best is ‘Jill Darling’ with Francis Day and Arthur Riscoe starring and John Mills as the second lead dancer.

‘Francis Day liked jokes. Many’s the time we sat around telling her stories and sometimes she’d give us five bob for the best one of the evening. But things have changed a lot since then’. “Then’, he said waving an admonishing finger, ‘we weren’t so used to young ladies being scantily dressed. In “Jill Darling”, Miss Day had to make a couple of very swift changes, and used to brush past us on the way back to the stage very scantily clad – I was most embarrassed,’ then musingly, ‘wonder if I would be now?’

Early in the 30’s, Bill Bolton moved to films when he heard that they needed painters. ‘It was very different then from today. We’d do our day’s work, which was sometimes only a few hours, and leave. Next morning we’d queue for more work. There were days when I was so broke that I’d walk back from Elstree to Tottenham Court Road, where I lived. But I liked the atmosphere – it was varied. I preferred it to the theatre’.

Bill Bolton then worked on about 50 pictures, including several with Anna Neagle and Herbert Wilcox. ‘He was superstitious. He’d start his pictures on the Friday nearest the 13th of the month. He said it’d bring good luck! Bill smiled. ‘Before each film, he’d come round, find out who everyone was behind the scenes and shake them by the hand. And at the end of the film there was an extra little envelope waiting for us. He and Miss Neagle are two of the finest show business people’.

Errol Flynn was another of Bill’s favourites. He worked with Herbert Wilcox and Anna Neagle on ‘Waltz Time’, a lot of which was filmed in Barcelona. ‘Errol Flynn loved publicity of any kind, but I think half the stories printed about him weren’t true. He was a considerate man, full of jokes and fun – a great loss to the film industry’.

The unit spent the first 10 days of their 12 weeks in Barcelona without work permits, and on limited cash. ‘We had £5 a week – that’s all we were allowed to take out of England. We were very broke, and the director and stars were in the same boat.

“The Spanish people who were working with us had a different life – they had lunch of bread and fish and wine while sitting on the pavement. Meanwhile the unit went off and ate in good restaurants. I found it most embarrassing,’ frowned Bill. ‘So we requested the same facilities for them as we had – and got them too. It was tragic – some of them had never seen butter before, and wrapped it up carefully to take home to their children’.

During the war, Bill Bolton worked at Denham Studios. He was not called up because the work at the studios was considered to be of national importance. He was, however, accepted as a rear-gunner with the RAF until the studios got him exempted. Among the films he worked on was ‘In Which We Serve’. This meant building a full-scale model of the destroyer HMS Kelly. King George VI and Queen Elizabeth came down to see the set, together with Lord Mountbatten. ‘It was a wonderful set and they were most impressed. The bows had to be built in another studio, she was so big,’ recalls Bill Bolton. “The difference between film and television sets is that the film ones were built to last. They might have had to stand for several months on end, whereas the television ones have shorter lives. Also the pace wasn’t so fast in films – we had more time to devote to each set’.

It was around this time that the incident of the doodle-bug took place. Every morning, the men used to go down by train to Denham for the day’s work. One day, near Sudbury, a flying bomb dropped right in front of the train. ‘We heard it come over and cut out, and we thought we’d had it,’ says Bill. ‘We jumped down on the floor and there was a proper commotion when it went off just in front of us. The line was completely blocked and houses all around were flattened.’

After the war, Bill Bolton continued working at Denham. Robert Taylor stands out among his memories of the late 40’s. ‘He was a great gambler who liked backing horses and playing dice,’ is how Bill describes him. While working on ‘A Yank at Oxford’, on Mondays, Bill used to be sent out with £60-£70 to back the ponies that used to race at Northolt Park. ‘And occasionally I used to collect winnings too!’ Taylor also liked to dice with the boys in slack moments. ‘I used to play occasion- ally sometimes I won, sometimes I lost. He used to take all our money off us from time to time then return it later.’

One of the scenes in ‘A Yank at Oxford’ required Robert Taylor to be ‘debagged’. ‘We had built a complete replica of an Oxford “quad” at Denham, recalls Bill Bolton. Then the complications set in. There was a mix-up with wardrobe and the second matching pair of trousers needed did not arrive. ‘As the stand-by painter, I was asked if I could quickly make another pair look like the original ones, so I set to work dirtying an old pair down with an air gun and distemper, then I put them under an arc lamp to dry quickly. I couldn’t guarantee exact similarity, but I’d done my best,’ says Bill. The 1,000 student extras set about the debagging and triumphantly the mocked-up trousers were thrown into the air. ‘But’ says Bill, ‘down came a shower of loose distemper – it went all over the place. It ruined Robert Taylor’s suit and the clothes of several of the students. I had visions of my cards being handed to me. But the director humorously accepted that accidents could happen and my job was safe’.

After Denham, Bill Bolton spent 18 months at Rank’s Charm School, where short films were made to give budding stars – including Diana Dors, Jimmy Edwards and Michael Pertwee – an insight into the world of cinema. When it closed in 1950, Bill went on to the Associated British Picture Corporation at Boreham Wood for five years.

“When commercial television started, I thought I’d like to try it, as I’d been in both the theatre and films. I found I did like it. It’s not the same as films, mark you. There aren’t the same personalities, though it is a similar set-up. Television’s a growing industry and when colour television does come, the sets are going to have to be produced very differently – those cameras will pick up the slightest defects and flaws’.

Bill Bolton is married and has a son called William. In what spare time he has, he is a sports fan – but I’m too old now to play’. Since 1911, he has been a firm Chelsea supporter.

‘I’ve enjoyed every minute of my work in show business. It’s a great industry,’ he sums up.

The post Scenes from a painter’s life appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

In December, 1954, Central Rediffusion Services Limited, the service and supply company of the Rediffusion Group, was appointed technical consultant to Associated-Rediffusion Limited and has been responsible for the planning and equipping of all Associated-Rediffusion studios and technical areas. With the completion of Studio 5 these services will cease.

No one would pretend that Wembley Studios are ideal, because the site is not large enough to contain all the service areas which modern television studios require. But one of the greatest problems facing Associated-Rediffusion when it was appointed the first programme contractor to the ITA late in 1954, was the speed necessary to equip and build studios and to train and rehearse personnel and artists.

In buying Wembley Film Studios, Central Rediffusion was at least able to make a quick start. Studio 5 is, therefore, an operational unit only – much of its scenery and services must be brought from elsewhere.

The building of Studio 5 started in December, 1958, and though the building contractors had the advantage of extremely good weather during the spring and summer of 1959, the national shortage of bricks caused a serious delay and necessitated continuous alteration to the planned progress. The final stages of testing of the studio and control apparatus have started and it is hoped that Studio 5 will be handed to Associated-Rediffusion during May so that training and rehearsals can commence.

Studio 5 is certainly the largest television studio in Europe and probably the largest ever built as a television studio. It has a floor area of 14,000 square ft [1,300m²] and a clear height to the inside of the roof structure of 40 ft [12m] with a clear height in the centre section, which houses the dividing partition, of 30 ft [9m]. Walkways are provided at the 12 ft [3.6m], 30 ft and 40 ft levels.

The whole of the building foundations and floors are divided into two sections and when the centre partition doors are lowered the studio can be used simultaneously as two studios of 6,700 square feet [622m²] each.

One of the most important features of the studio is the dual partition which is of lattice girder construction with external wind bracing on the cavity side. The acoustic slabs consist of two mild steel sheets 4 inches [10cm] apart with 3-inch [7.6cm] rock wool filling, one sheet is suspended free and connected to the main frame at the edges only. The two partitions, when lowered, are designed to provide an acoustic separation of 60 Db over the range of 50 cycles to 4.5 kilocycles.

The lifting and lowering of the doors, which weigh 25 tons each, is done by four specially designed units consisting of an electric motor coupled through a reduction gear to a wire rope drum from which the door is suspended. The doors, which are provided with several safety stops, will take about half-an-hour to raise or lower.

One of the great difficulties in television studios is providing sufficient ventilation to give cool air on the studio floor. There are separate ventilation plants for each half-studio to give seven air changes an hour, the ventilation ducts in the roof being large enough for a man to walk through. Adjustable nozzles allow the flow of fresh air to be directed. Another ventilation plant is provided for the control rooms and technical areas, and each equipment bay has its own supply, extract and filter.

Everyone knows of the problem of studio floors. In Studio 5 we have an added problem due to its giant size. The floor must be level to plus or minus ⅛ inch [3mm] At no point must it have a slope of more than 1 in 1,000. The length of the floor will change by ¾ inch [19mm] with normal temperature variation and yet no crack must appear between the two halves when the floor moves. Two special comb joints are, therefore, being fitted to the centre partition which will cause only very minor camera wobble as cameras track across these joints.

Each studio will have 340 lighting circuits fed from the lighting patch panels. These panels are next to the lighting control consoles which are arranged to be operated from a sitting position in the form of an organ console. Each studio will have 70 lighting hoist units driven by electric motors. The raising and lowering of each unit is controlled from a panel next to the lighting control rooms on the 12-foot gantry or from the studio floor by means of a wandering lead. Fifteen units can be selected and operated simultaneously and four such groups are available for selection and operation.

The control rooms, which are big enough to carry any extra apparatus required for colour transmission, are built along the northern side of the studio with the vision, sound and lighting control rooms at 12-foot level, and the camera control rooms, make-up rooms and service rooms at ground floor level.

The entire studio is being equipped with eight new E.M.I. 4½-inch [11.4cm] image Orthicon cameras and the vision system can be operated on 405, 525 and 625 line frequency. Each vision control room will have 14 21-inch [53cm] picture monitors to allow the monitoring of 10 sources in addition to transmission, off air and two previews. It will thus be possible to record programmes on film or tape which can be used overseas without further alteration. The sound equipment has been specially designed and has 26 low level channels and nine high level, divided into four groups. All controls and faders are mounted on a sloping panel of a sound console to facilitate operation.

One of the most important requirements is good communications in order to co-ordinate the team of people whose combined efforts make a television programme. The director’s talk-back system carries the director’s instructions to headphones worn by operators in the studios, and to loudspeakers in the control rooms. In rehearsal the director can speak to the studio through a public address system.

Programme sound is also distributed so that all may follow the programme and respond to sound cues when required. A separate sound balancer’s talk-back system connects the sound balancer with microphone boom operators. The director can talk to the floor manager by a radio talk-back system, thus avoiding trailing leads. The intercommunication facilities in Studio 5 are provided by a ‘Transicon’ equipment consisting of small transistorised amplifiers plugged in to rack frames, an arrangement which will ensure the rapid detection and righting of faults and contribute to the efficient working of the new studio.

During 1955 and in a space of less than 10 months all the original studios and equipment were planned and provided. It was not until 24 hours before the official opening that the first complete rehearsal was possible, and even then no commercial film inserts were available.

Studio 5 is the outcome of 12 months careful thought and 18 months building and equipping. The artists and personnel who use it will have at their hands the latest and the best. It therefore only remains for me to wish them all success.

The post Fourth floor (Carlton House) says… ‘Success to Studio 5’ appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

It would be fair to say that in recent years television broadcasts have become more complex, more polished and operate at a faster pace; this process must continue and, so far as television studios are concerned, will probably culminate in the ‘Spectacular’. Spectacular drama and light entertainment broadcasts have been shown in the past only via the film medium in this country. They have never been televised ‘live’ due to the lack of studio space and facilities. It is to remedy this omission and to present Spectacular British Broadcasts that Associated-Rediffusion has decided to lead the way by building Studio 5 at Wembley.

The Studio and its associated service areas are to be built on a site at present used for car parks and film vaults. The building will contain a studio of approximately 14,500 square feet floor area, production, camera, sound and lighting control rooms, a new canteen, entrance hall, visitors’ lobbies, dressing rooms, make-up rooms, etc.

The main feature of the Studio is to be a partition which may be lowered or raised, thus enabling the Studio to be divided into two studios of approximately 6,700 square feet floor area each. These studios will be known as Studio 5A and 5B, and will have their own associated control rooms, make-up rooms, etc. If the partition scheme is successful it will represent a major engineering achievement.

One great difficulty in planning any enterprise of this magnitude for television is the fact that production techniques and demands will most certainly have changed by the time the installation has been completed. Many traditional broadcasting practices have thus been discarded and new ideas put in their place. One example of this is to be found in the production control rooms, where the control desk is to be curved following the principle of the round table. This idea has two particular advantages to recommend it; no matter where a person sits the rest of the company is always in front of him, and also his immediate neighbours do not obscure his view or that of any others at the desk. Seated on the outside of the curve the control room personnel look inwards towards the picture monitors. The picture monitors will be 21-inch screen diagonal, because in the 1960’s it is estimated that 21-inch receivers will be the most usual for British homes, and it will be essential for the director to get the same sensation of perspective and impact as his audience.

The control room monitors will all be below eye level, so minimizing the angle between script and monitor, and avoiding the usual neck stretching which is a feature of the traditional design.

The control of the production lighting will be very comprehensive. The lamps will be raised and lowered by remotely controlled motorized hoists and the intensity of the illumination controlled from lighting consoles. The installation is designed to cope with any production likely to be brought to the studio. When the studio is used as one, the control of all the production lighting will be from one console position. Eight modern television 4½-inch Image Orthicon cameras will be available for the studio as a whole. These cameras will be a little more than half the weight of the present cameras and will open a new avenue for our cameramen in handling techniques. Two studio zoom type lenses will be available for the whole studio. When the partition is lowered, four cameras will normally be associated with each studio but it would be possible to have, say, five in one and three in the other. The design is such that should a camera channel fail in Studio 5A it will be possible to have a replacement from Studio 5B and vice versa within a matter of a minute or so.

By the time Studio 5 is completed, tri-alkia Image Orthicon camera tubes will almost certainly be available, this in simple language means that the cameras will be much more sensitive than those of today and will enable directors and lighting supervisors to create new visual moods and effects. An Inlay desk is planned for each production control room. This will have the facilities for inlay, overlay, scanning of 2 × 2 transparencies and roller captions.

Two separate sound control rooms are planned, each with a newly designed sound desk, four multi-speed gram units and a tape recorder. The sound installation will give maximum flexibility, and with very little alteration will give facilities for stereophonic sound. It is hoped that a new type microphone zoom will be available giving a full 360° rotation, and a seat for the operator.

A fully equipped make-up room will be situated adjacent to each of the two studios. This follows modern practice by getting make-up as near to the studio floor as possible. Each is to have seven make-up positions, with all the necessary wash-basins, hair dryers, etc.

By 1960 it is envisaged that the scenery will be of relatively lightweight construction, and a great deal of this, on the faster type productions, will most probably be ‘flown’. For this purpose eighteen power-operated hoists will be available plus the usual skids, etc. The hoists will be operated from a control panel on the studio floor, or from a portable handheld control board.

It is planned to have a maximum audience of 500 in the studio on certain productions, and it is hoped that 27-inch monitors will be available enabling them to view the televised show. The strain of television inevitably tells on the studio operators after a period of time. In planning Studio 5 considerable thought, time, tears and sweat have been expended in trying to reduce the operational fatigue experienced by the studio personnel today. It is hoped that this will be repaid by better and more polished productions, for although Studio 5 will, without doubt, be the finest television studio in England, it will rest with the operators and artists as to whether this venture will be a success or not.

The post Associated-Rediffusion’s new studio appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

‘Three Roads to Rome’ was the composite title of three separate plays, starring Deborah Kerr and with a glittering cast including Celia Johnson, Isobel Dean, Anthony Newlands, Jeremy Brett and Alan Cuthbertson.

Associated-Rediffusion provided the full technical facilities of Studio 5, and the whole of its production resources for the 525-line video tape recording. It was soon obvious that the entire 14,000 square feet of floor would be required to house the biggest sets since ‘An Arabian Night’, including a full-sized ‘practical’ carousel in an Italian market square.

Ronald Marriott, aided and abetted by his P.A., Helen the Best, became thinner but wiser as director, while the Americans sent a colourful quartet of producers to assist him. In order of meeting they were:

enter (at ceiling height) briskly: John B. Green (Executive Network Producer) quickly known as ‘Big John’. This could be because he was at least nine feet high and came from Texas. (Why doces he never stand still? Is the weight too much for the floor for more than a minute? ‘Hush dear, he’s thinking!’)

enter (legato con moto) ‘Beau’ Goldman (bow-tied associate producer and musical adviser): ‘Say, Beau, have you met Steve Race? He will write your music.’

exit Both (Control Room left) together with scripts, stop watches, blank music sheets, frowns and a brace of P.A.s.

enter (quietly, politely, inquiringly) Arthur Penn, legendary film, Broadway and television producer and other half of COE PENN production partnership. He is small, tweedy, bespectacled, but with an air of intent. ‘You say we can have eight cameras, all on two-shot? – That’s just fine!’

exit — with Ronald Marriott to floor, in a hurry.

enter – Bold Fred (Coe), fresh from Paris and preceded by his ‘you-name it — he’s done it and at the moment he’s television adviser to the President and they don’t come any bigger than KING SIZE’ – reputation. ‘Good morning’ (formal introductions) and, quick exit to his private viewing room (with telephone to gallery) calling over his shoulder: ‘Arthur, I want to talk to you about the lighting, and another thing, that scene where we are’ … A pause, quiet descends, the gallery settles and from the studio the pleasantly Welsh voice of floor manager Eric Cooper calls for quiet. Fred Pusey’s delightful Forum and Rome hotel balcony set appears on camera 1.

The cultured American voices (how beautifully Deborah and Celia have slipped into character) engage in the opening dialogue of ‘Roman Fever’ – the first play.

It is Monday morning. Vic Gardiner’s five cameras cluster above, below and all around the hotel balcony balustrade, sections of which are being continuously moved, just in case one of the five cameras can get a better two-shot, or maybe a small trench for the crane would give … a … better …

Before we had finished in the studio some four days later we had all learned a great deal about American production techniques. Quickly we found how to live with and interpret their methods and techniques to their satisfaction, while at the same time bringing our own individualism to the finished product.

Did I say finished?

The V.T.R. Room at Wembley looked like a first feature cutting room with a world premiere brought forward a month. From this do-it-yourself drama kit, Jim Runkle’s recording team, Harry Baker in charge of V.T.R. and Theo Duka in charge of tele-recording sound, worked like beavers to cut together a rough working copy from the dozens of ‘takes’ and bits of tape in order that the producers could have some idea of the production as a whole on the following day. (Perhaps even a timing.)

This was done on Friday and Saturday while Steve Race, with copious notes, a buzzing head and the prospect of a heavy week-end was charged to write the incidental music by Monday morning’s 9 o’clock band call. The American technique for major productions is to record the music and any effects required, post-sync sound, as in feature films. This was an innovation in live television production as far as we were concerned and considerable knitting of facilities was required to achieve it. It was, as far as I know, the first time that the techniques of live television, film sound and video tape had all been combined in this way.

On Monday morning, we assembled in Studio 5 to view the final cut working copy and to record the musical backgrounds required at intervals throughout the 90-minute production. Tony Bristow kept a firm hand and his urbane disposition visible throughout and the session was successfully concluded just as the last over-coated musician left the studio.

With, it seemed, an ever-increasing kit of parts, we ascended on the Tuesday morning to the dubbing theatre at Television House where George Willows and his crew bade us welcome, while Freddy Slade sharpened his chinagraph and his wits for the master mix. Sound tracks wild and sound tracks sync were combined to sound track master and while a fascinating series of numbers flashed by on the projection screen, the V.T.R. picture from Wembley appeared, as if by magic on cue from the dubbing mixer. (Sheer fantasy this!) Tracks were moved, cut, laid, wiped, stretched, blooped, padded, blanked and generally administered by ace cutter, John Butler, who was able to remove ‘dead air’ not by a fan, but by moving music tracks to cover dialogue pauses.

The prospect of replacing the theatre carpet was causing George Willows some alarm (Why can’t John B. Green sit down?). Ronald Marriott was down to his last set of finger nails and now had pins and needles in both legs. Faces various, looked in, paled, and left rapidly; but by Wednesday afternoon, it looked as if we had won. Thursday saw the happy wedding of track master sound, to track V.T.R. vision, while Friday morning saw the first-off replay of the entire production to most of the principals and cast.

The quality of all aspects of the production were the subject of very considerable praise from the Americans and the occasion for not inconsiderable sighs of relief from us. The impeccable lighting of Bob Gray gave Don Furness, in charge of racks, the opportunity to produce some of Studio 5’s finest pictures. During the production it was fascinating to see how the expert make-up, under the direction of Mary McDonough, coped with the changes in age and character of Deborah Kerr, who although rarely off the set for more than a few minutes at a time gave a shining example of patience and sweetness which charmed everybody. Her casual asides during the inevitable moments of tension reduced the floor to near hysteria on several occasions.

Much of the great success of this operation was due to the enormous co-operation given by everybody and the mustering of Associated-Rediffusion’s production facilities under the supervision of programme coordinator, Lloyd Williams. A complicated operation? Expensive? Time-consuming? Yes, possibly all three. But for first-class quality and guaranteed results on a national network where these factors count above all, come to Associated-Rediffusion, as ABC did.

The post Stars and wipes appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

Rude Little Boy: ‘Wotchcr doing? Propping up the building?’
Debonair Gentleman with Elegantly Crossed Legs, One Hand in Trouser-Pocket, Leaning Against Wall: ‘Yes.’
R.L. Boy laughs sceptically.
D. Gentleman with E.C.L., One H. in T-P., steps away from wall.
The building collapses.

While no-one would go so far as to claim that if Guy Bloomer stepped away from Wembley Studios there would be a positive structural disaster – least of all, Guy himself – you feel that without his support the edifice might totter slightly. Beneath that deceptive appearance of nonchalance, Guy is in fact busily ensuring that the non-stop activity of the studios continues to flow smoothly, all round the clock.

But it isn’t as easy to prop up a building as it looks. Before tackling his present job (official designation: ‘Deputy Manager, Wembley Studios’) Guy accumulated a great deal of varied experience, all of which has proved useful in one way or another.

For example, as deputy manager, he has to know when to say ‘No’. He first said ‘No’ when he left Malvern College; a firm ‘No’ to the prospect of following in his father’s footsteps and becoming a solicitor. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, but he knew that whatever profession he took up, it wouldn’t be legal.

Instead, he joined the Royal Navy, as an Ordinary Seaman, in 1942. After a posting to the west coast of Scotland, he was transferred to the King Alfred Training Establishment for Officers at Hove, and thence to the R.N. College at Greenwich. He spent most of the war in beach-landing parties, on combined ops and beachhead assaults – ‘Mostly along the South Coast and the Isle of Wight’, he adds. Pressed for details, he admits that he was in the D-Day landings in France and at Walcheren as well.

He was en route for the Far East when the war in Japan ended, and so turned smartly about and set to work, convoying a flotilla of captured U-boats up to the Baltic, where they were to be handed over to our Russian allies. He found our allies slightly unco-operative on an official level, but on the unofficial level he has a hazy recollection of splendid hospitality in the Russian Officers Club; there was a picture of Lenin on the wall, and vodka everywhere else.

The deputy manager of Wembley Studios has to know a lot about hospitality.

Then there was a long job in mid-Atlantic, when Guy assisted some oceanographic scientists to measure the height of waves.

(You: ‘That’s interesting. How do they measure the height of waves in mid-Atlantic?

Guy: ‘That’s what they were trying to find out’.)

At last he became a civilian again, and immediately took a long trip by trawler to Murmansk and the White Sea, as a passenger – more or less from force of habit, presumably. But he decided it was time he picked himself a career, and after twelve wasted months as a trainee in a local brewery, went to take a rehabilitation course at Bournemouth, in Business Management. This was designed as a general introduction for men who had gone straight from school into war service, to open their eyes to the devilish cunning of business procedure.

That, too, must have stood him in good stead since. Unfortunately, he took the course just too late to qualify for a Government Grant, and discovered after the first forty-eight hours of riotous reunion that he was broke. To earn some spare-time cash, he took a job in the evenings, as a very inexperienced stagehand at the Hippodrome Theatre, Boscombe.

This was a case of love at first sight. ‘I hadn’t been backstage more than ten minutes when something clicked,’ Guy admits, slightly embarrassed. ‘I mean – I knew that this was the business for me.’

Reluctantly he decided to finish his course anyway, mainly through pressure from home. ‘As soon as I announced that I had decided to go into the theatre – well, never have I received so many letters from my father in such a short space of time.’

Then followed a long spell of backstage work, during which all readers will be glad to learn that he applied for, and was granted, a NATKE union card. After spells in Bournemouth and Plymouth, he finally armed himself with some useful introductions and assaulted the West End.

His resultant success nearly killed him; he worked on the fit-up of the first Latin Quarter revue at the London Casino, and spent a hundred hours in the theatre during five days. But the show went on, and Guy survived. (Another valuable qualification for Wembley Studios.)

Soon afterwards, he decided to take a holiday in France, and wrote to every theatre in Paris (in enthusiastic, if inaccurate, French) describing himself as an assistant ‘metteur-en-scene’, and asking if it might be possible to go backstage as a visitor. Several theatres welcomed him warmly, including the Opera – a memorable experience – and the Chatelet, where they were producing a colossal extravaganza called L’Auberge du Cheval Blanc… (White Horse Inn a la Française, and equally memorable in a different way.) Everywhere he was received with flattering courtesy, and it wasn’t until later he realized that instead of describing himself as an assistant stage-manager, he had in fact announced himself as an assistant producer. Still, it was fun while it lasted.

His next important step was when he joined the International Ballet for four-and-a-half years, first as stage manager, and soon afterwards as stage director. This gave him further opportunities to travel, since the ballet toured in Italy and Spain. But when this job came to an end his travels continued.

A drink in a Chelsea pub – a casual invitation – and suddenly Guy found himself helping to refit a yacht in Majorca, then working in the crew on a series of Mediterranean cruises. The last cruise got a little out-of-hand and finished in Barbados.

This was all splendid, but Guy’s bank manager was beginning to send him curt little notes, and he realized the time had come to earn a living once more.

He travelled back to England, in an Italian ship with a passenger-list made up almost entirely of West Indian immigrants. When they reached Teneriffe, in mid-winter, a furious argument broke out, and Guy had to arbitrate ‘Yes’, he told the incredulous passengers, ‘that stuff on the mountain is snow…’

Perhaps it was the association of ideas that carried him on to his next job; shoving scenery about in the Earls Court Ice Show. However, he soon got an offer to go to Bath to stage direct the Trafalgar Pageant on the local rugger field and thence to Glyndebourne as stage manager. During his season there, he had an interview in London for a rather different kind of post, and was accepted; but he couldn’t start work immediately, as he had to go to the Edinburgh Festival with the Opera Company. He returned to London in mid-September, 1955, and managed to walk into his new role at Wembley Studios, just ten days before the first programme went on the air.

‘Look here, I’ve been talking too much…’ he breaks off apologetically. ‘Anyhow, you know the rest – I’ve been doing the same job ever since.’

After this saga, it’s rather a shock to realize that Guy has actually stayed in one place for four years. Does he ever feel restless? Does he ever get the urge to hoist scenery in Boscombe, or sails in Palma?

‘Well, I go back to Majorca every year, for a bit of sailing… But as for the theatre – well, strange as it may seem, I like television!’

So it looks as if Guy Bloomer has dropped anchor at last.

The post Track in on… Guy Bloomer …White Sea to Wembley appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

When he says this, you suddenly see him clearly; wrapped in a toga, hawk-like and angular, with a laurel wreath over his smoothly silver hair. He tilts back his head, and regards the world across high cheekbones; slightly affronted, you might think, at what he sees.

It makes a good picture – but when he starts to talk, you realize at once that Len Fraser is not in the least like that.

‘When a situation arises, we have to be here to meet it,’ he says, with enough of a Scottish burr to banish any visions of Ancient Rome. ‘And I’m proud to boast, we’ve never let anybody down yet… Oh, we’ve skated over thin ice now and again – I’m not saying we haven’t – but so far Lady Luck has smiled on us.’

You have to take every fantastic crisis in your stride, and meet life with a relentless, down-to-earth logic, when you spend your time in Wonderland. Even Alice had to do the same.

For ‘Wonderland’ is hardly an exaggerated description of Len Fraser’s world. His office is a sort of giant telephone box, from which he gazes out like a goldfish in a bowl, at a vast and surrealist collection of objects.

Sides of papier mâché beef, bouquets of artificial flowers, sideboards and fire-irons, abstract paintings and steel engravings, oriental devil-masks – and even the rear half of a horse… This is the Property Store at Wembley.

Stretching across the desk, Len pushes aside a box marked ‘Gold Sequins’, burrows under a sheaf of prop lists (‘For our production next Monday, in addition to the articles already ordered, we shall require a set of dentist’s tools, a box of exploding cigars and an old-fashioned water-pistol’), finds an ash-tray, and stubs out his cigarette.

Then he lights another, and starts to reminisce.

‘I went into the business when I was sixteen, as a chorus boy. In some of the big Scottish shows; revues, mostly. We usually did four or five months resident in Glasgow, then maybe a tour – Dundee, Aberdeen, Belfast, Dublin – all over. I’d started as an amateur, of course, singing a bit and dancing; in local concert parties and Scout Jamborees — you know the sort of thing.’

‘Oh, no, I wasn’t born in Scotland. I’m a Canadian really; born in Chatham, Ontario. My father was a Scot, and he managed a chain of music stores out there, selling instruments and records. But I resisted the opportunity to learn the piano; I was keener on the mouth-organ! We came back to Scotland in 1922. My father had been told by the doctor that he had three months to live, and he wanted to see his old home again. …I’m happy to say he carried on for another thirty years.’

So Len went into show business, and almost at once he began to discover talents outside his song-and-dance routines. He took up drumming, and in the summer months joined a band, playing for dances and concerts at some of the big seaside hotels.

During the war, he served with the RAF for two-and-a-half years, and then, when he was invalided out, he was sent to a Midlands factory on ‘work of national importance’. But this wasn’t enough for Len and soon the factory had its own band, and the staff were entertained with lunchtime concerts. There were gigs in the neighbourhood (i.e. engagements for dances, to those readers unfamiliar with the Musicians’ Union patois) and every week-end there were variety shows in the big Midland theatres and at the army camps. So Len went on, organizing shows, drumming and dancing, until September 1945, when he tried his luck in London as a film extra.

Lady Luck smiled again and he walked on – and occasionally off – in such films as ‘A Matter of Life and Death’, ‘I See a Dark Stranger’, ‘Oliver Twist’, ‘London Town’, and of course, ‘Caesar’.

Then back to variety and another series of tours; one notable one was with Ralph Reader’s ‘Gang Show’.

‘You ask Dickie Emery when you see him – he’ll remember those days. And Cardew Robinson, and Reg Dixon – they were all in the “Gang Show”… . After that I toured with Hylda Baker, running the band, doing three dance routines, and working in the sketches too.’ (Len knows, y’know…) ‘And I followed that up with a couple of years as entertainments’ manager at Exmouth, organizing everything from the concert parties to the bathing beauty contests.’

So far Len’s theatrical experience had been on the lighter side, but soon after this he transferred to ‘the legit’, as property-master and stage-manager – first for Linnit and Dunfee, then H. M. Tennant, and also Jack Hylton.

His last job outside television was at the Stoll Theatre, with ‘Kismet’, so when A-R got into its stride, all he had to do was walk next door and get himself a job – 22 August, 1955, as a setting assistant. And on 1 January 1956, he moved into the property department, and has hardly moved out of it since.

‘We don’t make props here, like they do in the theatre,’ he explains, lighting another cigarette. ‘That would be impossible. We’re more of a supply depot, you might say. When we get the prop lists through from the directors, we go through them with the buyers – then, anything we can supply out of stock is marked off; everything else is hired. But of course, if something we hire fails to materialize on the day – it’s up to us.’ He brushes off what appears to be part of an old bicycle, and rests his elbows on the desk. ‘Here, necessity is the mother of invention. I’ve often had to go and knock up the people in the shops over the road, on nights when things haven’t turned up. I remember once, we were short of a lawn-mower, and I borrowed one from a pal of mine. He was actually cutting the grass when I rang up – but we got it all right.’

‘Of course, we can’t just use any old thing. We’ve got to be accurate. You get a Victorian sofa in a Louis drawing-room, and first thing you know, there’ll be a buzz on the ’phone. Somebody will spot it… Like when we do scenes in shops – we have to go round blocking out all the trade-names, on every tin and package and showcard in the set. Can’t go giving them all free plugs, can we?’

Sofas, showcards, soda-syphons… Len’s department is responsible for everything from a to z; from artichokes to – well, a zebra is one of the few objects they haven’t been asked for… Yet!’

‘Oh, we deal with a lot of livestock.’ He thinks back rapidly. ‘Dogs and cats, parrots, lion-cubs, monkeys, goldfish, a fourteen-foot python – and even mice. We’ve got one mouse upstairs who lives here permanently, ever since he escaped from a conjurer in one of the children’s programmes.

‘We had a goat here, too, a little while back; tethered to a bench, on a nice piece of tarpaulin, to keep the place clean and tidy. But he got loose, and ate every blessed thing he could get at – goodness knows how many paper flowers he polished off. He even ate the tarpaulin.’

And there is the studio cat, Boxer; an impressive black-and-white tom who has made sixteen appearances (intentionally) on the screen to date, in every show from ‘Murder Bag’ to ‘The Red Grass’. Len claims that Boxer is the least temperamental of TV stars – even if he does think that ‘Cool for’ was named after him.

‘What do I do in my spare time?… Well, I’m still keen on music. Maybe you saw me let my hair down at the Christmas party, singing a couple of numbers with the band! Jazz is one of my hobbies; I’ve got a collection of jazz records – two hundred and twenty-one of them. And I watch television at week-ends. The Palladium Show’s one of my favourites; I still like variety.’

The ’phone rings; he finds it under the bric-a-brac, and has a brief conversation with Television House.

‘Yes, Frank… A settee you’ve got there, to come to us tonight?… Right – you can put it on with the next lot. The stuff we’ve got coming back now is nothing much – only about eight articles. That mahogany writing-table, a chest of drawers, and the grandfather clock – only odds and ends. No big stuff at all.’

He rings off, and tries to remember what he was saying. ‘Eh? Oh – the Palladium Show… I’m only sorry I’ve never seen a single one of our shows, either on the screen or from the floor. The next one I see will be the first.’

Let us hope that when the great moment finally arrives – if it ever does – Len will enjoy what he sees. As long as he docs not spot an Edwardian whatnot in a Regency boudoir, he probably will.

The post Track in on… Len Fraser Prop and Mainstay appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

The year 1966 started with political praise being heaped on the head of ‘This Week’ when the programme celebrated its 10th anniversary on January 6. A publication to mark the event carried messages of goodwill from the Prime Minister, the Leader of the Opposition and the Leader of the Liberals. Later that night a programme title ventured into the realm of the astrologer with what at that time seemed an amazingly rash prediction… The World Cup – England to Win?’ Then on January 31 the first of a new series called ‘The Rat Catchers’ started to win predictably high ratings.

In between, however, had come the death of a member of the board of directors – Sir Bracewell Smith, a former Lord Mayor of London, chairman of Wembley Stadium and an honorary vice-president of the Football Association. February brought yet another award to the company when ‘Children of Revolution’, the Intertel production on young people growing up in Czechoslovakia, won a Silver Dove from the International Catholic Organisation for Radio and Television (UNDA) at the sixth Monte Carlo International Television Festival. Another award came the next month when Hughie Green and Michael Miles received a joint special award from the Variety Club of Great Britain at the Show Business lunch on March 8 for the continuing popularity of their programmes.

March 31 once again saw Studio 9 as the hub of the ITV network when everybody went into action to cover the General Election.

Mr Wilson was given ‘A View from the Bridge’ shortly after on April 4 with the transmission of Arthur Miller’s play. Meanwhile the ITA announced that its present three-year contracts with the programme companies would be extended until the end of July, 1968, as no decision had been taken on whether to extend the ITV service.

A flurry which was to extend for quite a few weeks hit the Wembley studios when the first of the colour ‘Hippodrome’ series went on the floor on April 19.

In the business world, company chairman John Spencer Wills became the chairman of The British Electric Traction Co. Ltd, on April 21, following the death of Harley Drayton.

On May 9 the first of the ‘Seven Deadly Sins’ series was transmitted. Pride, gluttony, sloth, avarice, lust, envy and wrath subsequently achieved the distinction of all getting into TAM’s Top Ten.

Three days later the first of the adult education series ‘Royalist and Roundhead’ was screened. While not hitting the Top Ten, it rose high in the opinion of educationalists.

May also saw the drama section of the club take over Studio 9 to stage ‘Ring Round the Moon’ and achieve high audience ratings. Meanwhile Fusion made its own dent in the award stakes by receiving a certificate of merit in the British Association of Industrial Editors’ contest, a top award of excellence in the International Council of Industrial Editors’ competition and the Block and Anderson Cup from the British Direct Mail and Advertising Association.

The International Television Federation – Intertel – reached the fifth anniversary of its foundation on June 14. Behind it were 34 programmes and a coveted 1965 Peabody Award for making ‘the first continuing contribution towards international understanding through television.’

Also in June came an award for ‘Stage One Contest – Caroline’. This children’s programme won the Munich Prix Jeunesse.

The Mountbatten series also made news in June when it was announced that this exclusive story of the life and times of Lord Mount-batten would be made in colour.

July started with the news that the first episode of the ‘Hippodrome’ series on July 5 had gone straight to the top of Neilsen coast-to-coast ratings when screened by CBS in colour.

This was the month of the World Cup which England won on July 30 and which stretched the joint resources of BBC and ITV in providing coverage for the world. Rediffusion contributed its share of equipment and executives.

The day after the final at Wembley historians gathered at Television House for a conference with ‘History on TV’ as its theme.

August 1 brought the first programme in ‘The Informer’ series which regularly knocked on the doors of the Top Ten during its run.

The month was shadowed by the death of Bernard Rickatson-Hatt on August 7. He had been on the board of the company since July, 1958. A former Guards officer, he had been editor-in-chief of Reuters, adviser to the governor of the Bank of England and to the Bank of London and South America on public relations.

In September came two club events. On the 10th there was the annual sunlit sports day for the children of club members at Shepperton and on the 17th the football team took part in the TV Cup knock-out competition. For the second year running the Rediffusion XI lost to Scottish, the eventual winners.

On September 21 it was announced that Sir Richard Thompson was joining the board. A former M.P., he has held various government appointments.

A conference for educationalists was held at Wembley on September 22 at which, for the first time, teachers were allowed to produce their own programmes in a television studio. September 26 saw the start of the new autumn schedules with 15 new programme presentations, the sequel being six out of TAM’s Top Ten for the week. As part of this schedule the first production of the new Rediffusion Films Ltd was transmitted on September 28 – ‘Dare I Weep, Dare I Mourn’ with James Mason and Jill Bennett. The Frost Programme’ series also started later that night.

Appointments in features came in October. First there was the announcement of the appointment of Barry Westwood as producer of the networked Thursday edition of ‘This Week’. Then, on October 27, it was announced that James Butler had been appointed head of features from November 1.

During October and November, three joint Rediffusion/Talent Association productions under David Susskind passed through Wembley to be recorded in black-and-white and colour for America.

On November 8, it was announced that the present series of ‘Ready, Steady, Go!’ would end on December 23.

On November 11, the announcement came that managing director Paul Adorian had been appointed managing director of Rediffusion Ltd. John Spencer Wills, chairman of both companies, relinquished his managing directorship following his appointment as chairman of The British Electric Traction Co. Ltd upon the death of Harley Drayton.

The annual general meeting of the company was held at Wembley on November 28 and at it, the winners of the 1965-66 Golden Stars were presented with their awards. Independent Television presented ‘A Royal Gala’ before the Duke of Edinburgh at the Palladium on November 29 in aid of the CTBF and the Bowles Rocks Trust.

From December 7-16, an exhibition of the work of graphic designers was held at the Upper Grosvenor Galleries.

Finally – and still to come – is ‘The Royal Palaces of Britain’, the joint Independent Television and BBC production on December 25.

The post Tele marks of 1966 appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

‘Maintaining all the electrical equipment and installations at Wembley and Television House could be compared with the old story of looking after the Forth Bridge: when you finish, you have to go back to the beginning and start all over again’, says Bernie Finch, electrical supervisor. There are 62 electricians, 16 covering maintenance at Wembley and Television House. The other 46 cover all studio production lighting.

To many people the world of electronics, or just plain electricity means no more than being satisfied when the light comes on at the flick of a switch, or the television warms up and presents its picture without problem. Bernie Finch’s world, however, covers far more than just looking after light switches. ‘In the section, we’re responsible for ventilation, air conditioning, supplying power to outside broadcast units, and for all lighting, both for offices and studios. Really, we’re supplying a service to everyone.’

The power which Bernie and his team watch over, totals 2,800 kilowatts – enough to meet the needs of a small town. The intake of studio 5 alone accounts for 1,500 kW, which would supply a medium-sized village with light and heat.

‘When a company such as Rediffusion depends so much on electrical power, you have to be prepared for any emergency. For instance, when a recent power cut blacked out Television House and a large slice of the city, it was only the fact that there is an emergency alternator installed in the basement of Television House that saved the day. Within 40 seconds of the power cut the alternator was switched on, programmes could continue and essential lighting was restored. The alternator itself runs on diesel fuel, and can supply power for two days. Fully loaded, it could run for weeks.’

A little known aspect of the electrical section’s work is the supplying of special effects – especially explosions. Bernie himself has been responsible for many of the explosions that have wrecked cars in some of Rediffusion’s series.

It could be said that where the work of Bernie Finch’s section finishes, Jim Crossley’s begins. Jim Crossley is supervisory engineer (maintenance), and his men service the company’s technical equipment.

Says Jim Crossley: We look after the internal workings of cameras, sound, telecine, and film department equipment, monitors and master controls. We also maintain the outside broadcast equipment.

‘Outside broadcasts are perhaps one of the most interesting aspects of electronic maintenance. During the last general election, we converted a railway carriage on the train bringing Mr. Wilson back from Liverpool into a control room and video taped an interview which was shown during the election programme before the train had arrived in London.

‘The outside broadcast coverage of the World Cup series brought special problems as for Eurovision, all programmes have to go out on the 625 line system. Our equipment is, of course, 405 line, and we had to do a conversion job. I think that it’s to the credit of our people that the coverage went so well.’

Many programme gimmicks are designed and made by electronic maintenance. Requests vary from a simple clapometer (applause level indicator) for ‘Double Your Money’ or cues and communications for creepie-peepie cameras to the very complex. These have included designing and making a whole range of special sound equipment in a month for ‘Ready, Steady, Go!’ and rigging Studio 9 for a general election programme with all the hundreds of extra facilities required.

The main job, however, is to maintain the technical equipment. The company has probably lost less air time and had fewer faults on transmission than anybody else and that is the highest tribute to the work of the maintenance sections.

The post Wired-up for service appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

THIS week, Ready, Steady, Go! — Britain’s most popular pop show — moves from its crowded, informal niche in Television House, Kingsway, to the suburban, wide open spaces of Wembley Studios.

The jam-packed atmosphere of a Mod cellar-club has gone. Replacing it — slicker presentation, more glitter.

Gone, too, the tried-and-trusted record pantomime of most television disc shows. Defying tradition, Ready Steady Goes Live!

Why the changes?

Elkan Allan, executive producer of the show and head of Rediffusion’s light entertainment, said, “Ready, Steady, Go! started to go sour on us six months ago.

“The standard of dancing. The clothes teenagers wore. Every factor had fallen away from its former high point. Something had to be done to reignite interest.” Elkan decided to cut disc miming from the show. Teenagers had written to say they felt it gave a false impression. Nevertheless, a brave decision.

A decision that set Tin Pan Alley and show business generally a-buzz; a decision that will cost money.

It means a 50 per cent increase on the shows weekly budget: for extra musicians, backing singers, and arrangements. Plus a hefty outlay for new electronic equipment.

Producer Francis Hitching positively gloated as he described it: “More than £10,000 has been spent on the most up-to- date apparatus,” he said. “The studio will be littered with echo chambers, limiters, compressors, equalisers… It should be the most advanced sound technique ever used in a television studio.

“We don’t claim to produce an authentic ‘record’ sound. What viewers will see and hear is comparable to a live stage performance… with all its accompanying excitement.”

New sound. New studio, too. More space for dancers. No more elbow-to-elbow jostling. Now there’s room for 250, exhibiting all the intricacies of the latest dance crazes without space restriction.

Room for artists to breathe. To move about without dodging camera booms. Or wires. Or clusters of fans.

One thing Ready Steady Goes Live! must capture is atmosphere. Their old home, however cramped, did have an informal feel about it. The new studio must try to acquire this spirit.

In an effort to do just this, an R.S.G. Club will be formed. About two thousand teenagers will be selected as dancer-members… and work in a rota to appear on the new show.

New sound. New studio. Almost new compere. Until now, 20-year-old Cathy McGowan has been a sort of perky Girl Friday on the programme. Now she will be in charge.

Nervous at the prospect? Certainly. But bubbling over at the prospect of the show’s new image.

Enthusiastically she explained the R.S.G. Club. “The girls will look smashing and all the boys will be so good-looking you won’t believe it,” she said. “And they will ALL wear the very latest clothes.

“If they don’t arrive at the studio looking smart and up-to-the-minute, they won’t be allowed on the show and they will lose their club membership. We want to return to the style of the early days, when teenagers bought a special with-it outfit just because they were appearing on the show.”

Will the actual pop quality of the show change? Yes, it should improve. Lined up to appear on the new show are Gerry and the Pacemakers, Georgie Fame, The Animals and The Rolling Stones.

All-important musical direction for the first month will be handled by Johnny Spence, who has arranged backings on hits for artists like Matt Monro and P. J. Proby.

How do stars feel about Ready Steady Goes Live!? Particularly about the new feature that affects them — the miming ban?

Dionne Warwick and Cliff Bennett are in Friday’s show. Said Dionne: “I’m quite happy to do live performances. This is the way we work back in the States and it suits me fine.” And Cliff Bennett: “Much prefer to sing live. It creates much more atmosphere in the studio and this makes for a better programme.”

Will there really be a big difference in the new show?

Last word from Elkan Allan. His ideas sparked the show off originally. He’s behind the big new moves.

“Change?” he said. “Certainly. It will be far more exciting!”

The post Ready Steady Goes LIVE! appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

However, the day comes when they have been more entertained or more infuriated than usual and an idea grows that it would be interesting to see ‘how it works’, or ‘how human are the people in television’ or ‘whether they are all morons’. Then a letter is written by a club secretary, or a father pestered by a son telephones, and another group of people go down on the evergrowing waiting list for visits to Wembley.

The idea of such visits is not to preach to the converted but to inform those that are uninformed, to answer the criticisms of the critical and to allay the fears of the fearful. An explanation of how everyone and everything joins together to overcome the problems surrounding the recording or transmission of a programme, calms even the most heated.

About 50 requests a week reach me from a cross-section of our own and the BBC’s audiences. As only about six visits are made each week hard pruning is necessary. It is then that one begins to see the groups of people who are interested and why they want to come.

It is easy enough to cut out those who are obviously out for an evening’s jollification, drink and anything else that amounts to a night in London, taking in the Victoria Palace, Buckingham Palace and the Strand Palace. Studio 5 is palatial in size, but the work behind the scenes is altogether too serious. An offer of tickets for a show is all that is necessary here and about 50 per cent can be given these.

It is the other 50 per cent who are more difficult to sort out. They range from groups of solicitors, through Polytechnic, engineering societies, political study groups, overseas visitors, young wives’ clubs, to school children with all their mothers, fathers, pastors and masters.

No one group of people reacts in the same way to what they see and hear. The most critical and questioning are the professional groups. They are also the most uninformed. Many of them freely admit to having either no set or to only watching BBC programmes. Their complaints are based on what their patients or colleagues have talked about on the golf course. They talk only of quizzes and the excess of advertising and are therefore a little hurt to discover that quizzes are minimal, that it is us, not the BBC who produce ‘This Week’ and that advertisements are subject to control.

Because of their reaction and change of outlook, they are the most rewarding, and although many come to sneer, very few leave with their noses in the air. The guilds and study groups think they know everything but after a few minutes it becomes very obvious that they, too, are woefully ignorant. They need much convincing before they will accept a point of view and there is always somebody in their parties who tries to slip in an answer to a question, almost before it has been asked.

Children are open-mouthed and open-minded. They ask innumerable questions, but in the end admit that they have come in the hope that they will meet some star or other.

Occasionally one loses all faith in human nature. This happens with those who are able to do nothing except giggle or blink at the lights and exclaim, ‘It’s too hot’. They always drift along at the back aimlessly swishing at metaphorical daisies like Mr Stillbrook in ‘The Diary of a Nobody’. Invariably they belong to clubs affiliated to either Her Majesty’s Government or Her Majesty’s Opposition.

The tour of Wembley runs on roughly the same pattern. Studio 5 is looked at in its entirety. Its vastness impresses everyone. The scoffer, the informed, the gigglers are mercifully silent for a short time. All are surprised that we should have taken the trouble to build a large new studio when we are ‘commercial television’. It is from now on that one begins to see a change of mind. Eyes light up and different people look at each other as if to say: ‘They do take trouble after all’.

Vision Control (‘worse than flying an aeroplane’ said a lady the other night who had never flown one, but had a vivid imagination), sound (‘Oh! It’s here they drown the singer with the orchestra’), lighting (‘Where’s Harold Smart?’) bemuse people, but make them realise that there is co-ordination behind every programme.

Old ladies, young technicians become filled with unholy fire so that questions rush out like those from satisfied, and dissatisfied, shareholders at an annual general meeting.

Now is the time to get everyone into a viewing room, give them a drink, watch a rehearsal or transmission and answer as many questions as possible.

These run to no fixed pattern. Every side of television is covered as well as a good deal of general knowledge.

‘Does Eric Lander like mauve ties?’ This was from a middle-aged lady ‘passionately interested in clothes’. A straightforward statement of fact from a 16-year-old girl was, ‘Jango’s better than Elvis’.

Advertisements, colour and violence raise many questions, I presume because these are the problems about which the Press exercises itself so often.

People by now are less hostile and although they still naturally do not agree with everything we do they are open to reason. The power of Wembley is working. Then to end a visit and crystalize their ideas they go to see the old studios and the service areas around them. ‘In Studio 5’, their minds seem to work, ‘everything looked reasonably easy. In Studio 1 all is obviously difficult, yet the results are comparable. The ever mysterious THEY are human after all.

Another visit comes to an end. In the two hours or so we have been open to the public, no half-crowns have been taken but the impressions made are better than any gained in a stately home. We are progressing all the time, not standing still in the past.

The post Gigglers, gogglers and gumption appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

But how do the rest of the staff at Television House feel about their food? On the general assumption that they buy what they like best, we did some research into the best sellers.

From Fusion 31, published August 1963

Cold weather is the time for more substantial meals, but sausages are always the best seller at lunchtime, and even more so in the evening.

(This sausage addiction is not just confined to Television House. I quote from a May edition of the ‘Daily Mirror’: ‘Although “sausages are losing their individuality”, and only one butcher in ten makes his own, Britons eat 9,000 million of them a year. Housewives spend £3 out of £100 housekeeping on sausages.”)

All cheese dishes (egg mornay, macaroni cheese and variations) are very popular, generally selling about 60 portions when they are served at lunch. (When it is not known whether anything from 200 to 400 will use the canteen, a sale of 60 portions rates as a ‘best seller’.)

A recent arrival – Quiche Lorraine -after a slow start at 24 has now been judged ‘non-poisonous’ and rocketed to the 50 mark. ‘It takes time before people trust a new dish,’ says Miss Ellis. People are always in a hurry; mixed grill when it is featured is usually a top seller (about 50), but the ‘Grilled Lamb Chop (to order)’ only sells about two a week. In the evening, people cannot be bothered to wait for omelettes, except for odd evenings when everybody seems to want them. Another fairly new arrival, which is climbing in popularity, is Chili con carne – about 30 sold at its last appearance.

Salads are a best seller. With the warmer weather and the club no longer serving food, they often top the 60 mark. All these figure-conscious girls?
Not at all. It is the men. Yoghourt also usually sells out. Once upon a time, men asked for chips to be piled on their plates and then went on to collect some steamed pudding; now they go easy on the chips, or simply avoid both – ‘have to watch the figure you know’.

The sight of ‘soup so rich and green, steaming in a hot tureen’ was obviously too much for the staff last winter – the daily consumption averaged six gallons. The ‘green’ soup, or ‘green pea’ soup, is the least popular – tomato, minestrone and lentil are much better sellers. But now the summer soup consumption has dropped to an average of two and a half gallons a day.

Biscuits and cheese are the most popular second course. Steamed puddings always go well, often hitting the 60 mark. Apparently the post boys are good, reliable customers on that section. All milk puddings are very popular except semolina, but there is little sale of fruit juices.

Imagine the washing up all this entails. Eight people are employed in Television House who do nothing but wash up. After morning coffee there are no less than 1,000 cups, saucers and spoons to be washed, and this is repeated after the afternoon tea . . . lunchtime washing-up is inestimable.

At Wembley, the canteen menu works on a different system from Television House. They have an extensive ‘à la carte’ menu which never changes plus a shorter menu which changes every day; the latter includes one ‘composite’ meal and about three ‘à la carte’ dishes. The best seller by far is steak and kidney pudding. The second favourite is escalope of pork, which usually sells about 60. This is also a favourite with Fanny and Johnnie Cradock, but they do not like the spaghetti with which it is usually served.

The chef’s (yes, a real male chef) speciality – chicken risotto – is very popular, normally selling about 40 portions. Other favourites given to Wembley clientele, though not too often for them to become bored with, are ‘chicken supreme’, which sells about 40 and ‘braised ham California style’ (i.e. with peach), at about 55. Curry Madras is very popular in winter, but sales drop in the summer. Pudding popularity also varies with the season. The top winter pudding by a long way is Dutch apple tart, which sells about 120. Steamed and milk puddings also sell well, but jellies and cold puddings do not reach the top until the summer. Girls are the more figure conscious sex at Wembley, though a few of the men from telecine and sound who do not get so much exercise, also watch the calories. They go for grilled fish or egg dishes without rice. The actors apparently have enough exercise. The face of the Television House club-room has changed vastly over the last few months. The queues waiting for the ever-popular sausages and ‘coleslaw’ have disappeared and nothing has replaced them. Nor, incidentally, has anything replaced the four dozen wooden trays which gradually, mysteriously vanished, and it is a fairly common sight to see flowers in sugar containers around offices. What remains of the club, namely Betty and her bar, are still thriving. She does a tremendous trade in wine, closely followed by bitter draught beer.

The arrival of the humming monster whose fragrant aroma graces the sixth floor has started a new trend in drinking – hot chocolate. The chocolate sales far exceed all the black/white/with/without sugar coffee sales combined. During the week, this machine has a turn-over of about 800 cups, and an added 200 at the week-end (presumably ITN likes hot chocolate as well).

Cigarette machines vary with their best sellers, although the weekly takings usually amount to around £60. Staff have a choice of nine cigarette brands, but Senior Service seems to hold the steadiest high market.

The friendly British ‘banger’ once again wins on the trolley stakes – this time in the form of a sausage roll. Cheese and its various compounds are very popular in roll form, but the customers vary. On the second floor, the trolley can barely nose its way through the tea-point door before it is besieged by hosts of hungry post-boys who consume vast quantities of rolls every day. The fourth floor trolley does not do very good trade, partly because there are fewer people per square office and partly, as Miss Ellis puts it: ‘You can’t imagine those people sitting at their desk in the morning, munching sausage rolls.’ (Perhaps ‘they’ are also figure conscious.)

At Wembley, there is no need for machines as the canteen is open from 8.30 a.m. until 10.00 p.m. However, they do operate a sixpenny slot machine which sells two bars of Kit Kat for every one of Cadbury Snack. (Cadbury Snacks are the most popular at Television House, closely followed by Dairy Bar.) Everyone goes to the Wembley canteen for the morning and afternoon tea breaks (or coffee if they prefer it). Hot toast and butter is served and sells about four times as well as all the filled rolls combined. At tea-time, there are homemade cakes, but way, way above anything else, the favourite is bread pudding. This is described as being as ‘solid as rock’ – in popularity not necessarily in composition.

From time to time, odd waiters carrying rare things like silver coffee pots can be seen around Television House. That probably means there is a Board luncheon on that day. About this subject, Miss Ellis says: ‘Mr Adorian is one of the most appreciative gourmets for whom you could ever cook.’

This was the menu at the last one:

Cream of Mushroom Soup

–

Fresh Scotch Salmon with Hollandaise sauce, garden peas, new potatoes

–

Pavlova*

–

Selection of fresh fruit

–

* (For non-ballet connoisseurs, this is described as a ‘Meringue affair de luxe with whipped cream, laced with Kirsch’.)

Incidentally members of staff may be interested to know that the general manager’s room has exactly the same food as the canteen.

The catering firm at Television House is even used as a general store if the shops are shut when people want eggs and bread. Michael Miles has the longest list of odd requests: a chicken carcass ; a sardine tin and one currant (no prizes for guessing the reason). Other requests trolley girls have learnt to take in their stride on day-to-day rounds include things like a fruit salad for a baboon, a milk pudding and even some old bones.

Are you a constructive criticiser? If so, both catering firms (Wembley and Television House) are open to suggestions for new, practical and economical recipes. But please on paper, stating ingredients, time involved and method – no telephone calls. The ideas should be sent to the canteen manager at Wembley or Miss Ellis, Room 330a at Television House.

Drawings by Geraldine Spence

The post Board banquets and bangers appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

From Fusion 31, published August 1963.

The post Flash bang wallop appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

From Fusion 19, the Associated-Rediffusion house staff magazine, published June 1961

Why, only the other day in the lift, I distinctly overheard a shorthand-typist remark to a sales executive, ‘I suppose they must fetch the elephants and things in at the Aldwych end.’ Well, really!

Obviously, this is a state of affairs which must be remedied without delay. It would be quite impossible, within the confines of a short article such as this, to attempt to explain to the Great Uninformed everything that goes on down at the works, but I can at least try to throw a little much-needed light on some aspects of Wembley life.

The prime reason for the existence of the Wembley Studios is, as the name may suggest, studios. There are at present five operational in the block, namely Studios One, Two and Four, and two lesser stages, Five A and Five B, which for some reason best known to themselves the company prefer to keep rather quiet about.

Immediately you will ask, ‘What about Studio Three, then?’ What indeed! Answers to this interesting poser vary, but I have it on reliable authority, that it was the victim of a successful take-over bid by Telerecording some years ago.

Each studio will very probably house two, or even three, different programmes in a week; for instance, Studio One may be a mass of Ancient Greek pillars and steps for the school-children on a Monday, represent one of those ultracosy, ultra-chummy village shopping haunts on a Tuesday, and by Thursday have taken on an entirely new aspect to support Messrs Lockhart and Baxter as yet another villain is brought to justice. That the geography of each studio can change so completely, so rapidly, and so often has never ceased to amaze me; the story of the Second Palace Guard who popped out of Studio Four to wash his hands, and returned a few moments later to be handed the Key to Box 13, still raises a grim smile in Wembley circles.

I do not intend to deal individually with all the people connected with getting a show on the air studio-wise, nor to mention specific personalities. However, a brief summary may be made under the following headings:

(a) STUDIO-HANDS – they wear buff overalls

(b) WARDROBE – they wear blue overalls

(c) MAKE-UP – they wear pink overalls

(d) TECHNICAL PERSONNEL – they wear surprisingly well

(e) DIRECTORS – they wear out the Floor Manager

(f) FLOOR MANAGERS – they wear out everybody else

All these will I imagine, be self-explanatory, with the exception perhaps of (d) TECHNICAL PERSONNEL. Under this heading are to be found, on the first floor, camera control operators or racks, sound balancers and gramophone operators, and vision mixers or smooth operators. On the ground floor we encounter cameramen or videoperators, and boom operators or microphone operators. All in all, you will note, quite an operation. In addition, hovering somewhere in between the two levels, are the electricians or sparks, on whose work I confess I am completely in the dark.

Naturally in an organisation which employs all the aforementioned, as well as sundry administration staff, cleaners, livestock and actors, food and drink are a major consideration. The canteen at Wembley caters admirably for its variegated clientele, and only rarely comes up with such eccentricities of diet as ‘Faggots Lyonnaise’, ‘Lover and Bacon’, or ‘Place on the Bone’. (Originals may be seen in the Office on request.)

A popular pastime at meal breaks is to play ‘Get the Set Meal for the Set Price’, a highly fascinating game which I admit I am unable to master.

Normally the canteen service is swift and efficient, except of course, on a ‘Hippodrome’ day; then it is by no means unusual to queue for an hour, while a troupe of little Chinese tumblers, a round dozen dancing girls often disturbingly attired, the entire Norrie Paramor orchestra, three inarticulate trampoline experts from Zagreb, and a performing seal, vie with each other to obtain fish and chips, from flushed, rushed but ever well-meaning counterhands.

‘A boilerhouse attendant to Studio Five immediately, please!’ yells the loudspeaker: a reminder that we must get back to work.

As well as the studios from whence live productions originate, there are, scattered throughout the building, a variety of isolated departments, all in their different ways equally important to the smooth running of programmes.

Departments such as telecine, telerecording, maintenance, VTR – it was here that the expression ‘Someone isn’t rolling Ampex’ was first used – schedules and props.

From the last-named one can obtain anything from a signed line-drawing of the Emperor Haile Selassie to a 1 concrete replica of the Taj Mahal by moonlight, but often, funnily enough, not a dining-room chair. That’s, as someone once said, Show Business.

That’s Show Business – a phrase which sums up perfectly all that is Wembley. Enshrined in the vast hulk of, TV House, you might just as well be employed by a company manufacturing chair castors or strained vegetables, as television programmes. (In the interests of free speech I allow this gross exaggeration and travesty of the truth to be printed – Editor, TV House.)

But here at the Studios, things are very different: the smell of the greasepaint – or is it those Faggots Lyonnaise again? – is strong, you rub shoulders with household names: whether you operate a camera or an everlasting hand towel, a boom or a broom, you know from the word ‘Go’ that you’re in Show Business.

Having read so far I am certain that most of you will be eager to drop those typewriters, adding machines and promising clients, that you may find out for yourselves more of what occurs in this throbbing, vital heart of London’s Television.

If this be the case, then my labour has not been wasted: I suggest the Metropolitan Line from Baker Street – there is a fast service of the latest LT rolling stock – to Wembley Park. Turn right outside the station, proceed onwards for some two or three hundred yards, and you will arrive at the main entrance to the Studios. You can’t miss it-it’s right opposite the Wimpy.

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They said they wanted a television service to operate five days a week, to put out 4 1/2 hours a day; and we said we had better get on with it then, as there wasn’t much time. So on January 3rd 1955, Bill (Roland Gillett, first Controller of Programmes, Associated-Rediffusion, Ltd., later in the Jack Hylton TV Organization) and I sat down with a plain sheet of paper and started reckoning on what we would want to get on the air in the September of the year.Then we reckoned what we would want to stay on the air.

We put the word round among a few old TV chums that we were in business, and one or two of them came to see us – not many at first, only the ones who could smell adventure and the excitement of starting up a new industry.

Cecil (Cecil Lewis, then Deputy Controller of Programmes, Associated Rediffusion, Ltd.) had joined us, and the three of us sat them down in chairs and tried to tell them about our plans. There would be a great chance for those who really wanted to work, to pit their skill against the rest, to forget security and expose their talents in fierce competition and so on. Most of them went out with their heads high and eyes shining; some we sent back to whence they came.

So, after two months, we assessed how many we were likely to get who knew about television, and who might think our way. It wasn’t enough. We would have to train 200 to cover our minimum requirements. Then a High Person rang up and said, “Chum, we want seven hours a day from you – not four-and-a-half.” I said, “That makes things a little difficult”; and he rang off rather quickly.

Training, training, training. How on earth could we train people with nothing to train them with? And so we talked to a lot of people about this and it seemed as if they were all busy, too. Then we met George Kelsey of Marconi’s, and somehow the situation changed. Perhaps they had foreseen the problem. Perhaps they caught some of our enthusiasm. We don’t know – maybe it was a combination of both, but by the beginning of May training was in full swing at a tiny studio in Kensington. Tiny, but how valuable! George made it a priority job, and his engineers fitted this little place out as their own television studios, the first in the country.

Over 2,000 people applied for 200 jobs; and came the interviewing, letter-writing, and the feeling of excitement. Four months before programmes must start we had 160 on the staff, and there came the word to move H.Q. to the former Adastral House in Kingsway. Renamed Television House, it was to be the centre of ITV, with its own studios and modern offices.

And the week before we moved in, the builders moved in, too, with steam shovels, cement mixers and several hundred pneumatic drills: an orchestra that was to provide a non-stop accompaniment to our programme planning that will live with most of us forever. When, with a shattering roar, the blade of the drill appeared through the office wall, we gathered our dust-laden plans and moved to the next office – and so on.

At Wembley, where the old film studios were being rebuilt, deadlines were going by the board, and it seemed as if we would never be able to get away on September 22nd. So to insure against lack of TV studio space at the outset, we started filming in April at Shepperton. New methods of quick filming for television. New treatment of stories, new ideas. A production line of programme product to sustain our air time.

By July 30th the first part of the training scheme had been completed, and now we were to start operational advanced training at the old Granville Theatre, at Walham Green, where conversion for television had been going on for three months. The schedule for training had to be maintained, and everything depended on the Granville being ready. Seventy trainees were ready to move over from Kensington, eager to get into the first operational ITV studio; 70 more were ready to move into Kensington.

Then came the blow. Walham Green just wasn’t ready. And there was nothing ready at Wembley. They said they wanted another 14 days, so we said we had to have it in seven days, otherwise the training scheme would collapse, and it could affect our opening date. They said it was impossible, but they would try. So we called 70 disappointed people together in the chaos of Television House and we told them the position. We felt as if we had let them down, and we told them so. Then we sent them all away on a week’s leave.

We recast the schedule, and advanced training started at the Granville seven days later, but with a difference. Double shifts now: one batch from nine a.m. to four p.m., then the next from five to ten p.m. Meanwhile our Remote (outside broadcast) vans were out around London on dummy runs, setting up a complete outside-broadcast organization.

By August 29th we got into a studio at Wembley and started full-scale programme rehearsals. Only three weeks to go, before we would show ourselves to the public who would judge us side by side with a service that had been operating for 13 years.

Studio directors, lighting men, camera and sound operators, vision mixers and floor managers came straight off the training course to plan their first shows. The first of our sets off the scenery supply line arrived and were hastily stacked in the open with a tarpaulin thrown over. Actors and orchestras, make-up and wardrobe girls, scene men, engineers and production planners moved into Wembley and elbowed indignant builders’ men out.

On September 14th we called all the programme people together in Studio 1 at Wembley, and told them how we felt about it all with one week to go, and then we said that it was now largely up to them. And we came away feeling that nowhere before had we felt such confidence in the people with us.

The morning of September 22nd brought the first of the “good luck” messages that came from all over the world, and with them the realization that a lot of people we had never seen wanted us to do well, and that in the evening the eyes of the world would be on us.

At 7.10 that night we stood in the improvised Control Room in Kingsway and our service went on the air. And no one can know who wasn’t there just how that felt. When we were safely launched we left the room and Bill, the engineer-in-charge (Bill Cheevers, Head of Engineering, Associated-Rediffusion, Ltd.) turned to say something to us and couldn’t say it, and we couldn’t see him very well, anyway, so we turned away and walked along the corridor. It seemed strange that the only noise now was the noise of our service being on the air – but it was good music to us.

Reprinted from The Television Annual for 1957, published by Odhams

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The former office of the Air Ministry in Holborn, Adastral House on Kingsway, was purchased and renamed ‘Television House’ – though the Rediffusion symbol, a starburst, was almost immediately dubbed the ‘Adastral’ by staff members, thus continuing the name.

The first move was to gut the ornate office block internally and create offices for the company, two studios, film processing laboratories, editing suites, dubbing studios, a local newsroom, an office and studio space for Independent Television’s news company ITN, and, late in the day, provide office and production space for the temporarily homeless weekend contractor ATV.

Bovis Limited began work early in 1955, working vast amounts of overtime whilst staff attempted to create a whole company around them. A fascinating – if probably apocryphal – story involves a departmental secretary finding herself bricked up in her office and spending some time shouting for help before Bovis workers demolished the wall, rescued the secretary and rebuilt the wall, all in a matter of minutes.

To supplement the two studios at Television House, Associated-Rediffusion purchased a plot in Wembley to house four more studios, and took options on space at the Granville Theatre in Walham Green and a sound stage at Viking Film Studios.

In less then six months, A-R recruited 1000 staff members – from secretaries to Roland Gillett, the programme controller of the new company.

Despite the hurried nature of the build-up of the service, A-R were ready for launch in good time, and set their minds to the gala opening of the service on a date in late September to be set by the ITA. The transmitter began test broadcasts on 13 September, and A-R were given the final go-ahead by the Authority.

Launch date would be 22 September 1955.

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