Diaries

All cameramen keep diaries, because it’s the only way they know when they are working, in a very irregular lifestyle. I stopped being a cameraman in 1977 – 25 years ago as I write – but I still have all the diaries from my 11 years in tech-ops.

On the rare occasions I look at them I always regret that I wasn’t any kind of Samuel Peyps. The days just have a programme title and a studio. For instance, on 22nd to the 24th November 1967 I was in TC3 working on a Wednesday Play. That’s it – I know no more. The 20 year old me had no idea that the Wednesday Play would later be regarded as a milestone in the development of British television.

Of course, for tech-ops anoraks, the date and place tell a lot about the technical aspects of the production. It would have been shot in black and white on six Marconi MK4 cameras, probably all with turret lenses – except perhaps for poor old camera 6, who may have been lumbered with a large Angenieux zoom lens with a dodgy “quick start” servo. Camera one may have been on a Mole crane, or if unlucky a Mk1 Heron – the one without the pedals, and some poor tracker would have suffered the whole three days trying to hit very accurate marks with the machine from hell!

The play would have been rehearsed for most of the three days, and recorded in scene-sized or larger chunks on tape or 35mm film. Video tape machines were the earliest VR1000 2-inch type, and any editing would require physical cutting of the tape. If the production decided to do this, it had to actually buy the tape from VT, so most tried not to (and that’s the way much valuable archive was lost). This particular drama probably could have afforded it, but they might have preferred to cut 35mm film instead. One of the jobs of junior chaps like me was to go down to the studio during recording line-up, and uncap a camera and turn off the orbitting so that film recording could set up. I used the time practicing crabbing and craning in the hope that some perspicacious senior cameraman would notice a genius – but either I wasn’t or they weren’t, generally.

Picking another arbitrary date from an arbitrary diary – TC3 28th September 1970 1130-2215, followed by 29th Sept 1000-2230. A typical two day drama schedule. By now, three years on, TC3 is colour, with EMI 2001 cameras – the best of studio colour cameras and in use for 20 or more years. The drama was Jude the Obscure, with Robert Powell, newly a star from Doomwatch, as Jude. The crew had done all of Doomwatch, so we were all good friends, but as the drama became gloomier each episode, so even cheerful people like Bob became ratty. A high – or low – point came with the nude scene. We’d been working up to this for a couple of episodes, and the actress really didn’t want to do it. When the time came, the atmosphere was electric – she was only going to do it once, and those of us involved were incredibly nervous. My colleague on the next camera over had to track in past her. It was fine on rehearsals, but when she finally got her top off on tape, he crashed loudly into the bed and the shot wobbled badly. That’s the way it stayed. We all have our embarrassing moments, and I was glad that one wasn’t mine!

I only opened two pages in the diaries, and there are around 4000. Each one sparks memories of the time when television was the daily centre of our culture – and we were there!

Bernie



 

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