Dave Plowman
Someone decided to Google my career, and it seems IMDB has another sound person with my name in the US who seems to work on porn films. And lumps us both together. But their details on my career are rather sparse – as you’d expect, since I’ve never worked on films.
Bernie Newnham
I did that thing – putting my own name into Google.
My daughter has asked me to write down all the shows I ever worked on for some project she has. The Tech-Ops stuff is easy, as I have all the diaries, but other things were more difficult. I was trying to remember the series name of a documentary I’d worked on and I realised that I had mentioned it in a piece for the website. I found it quickly by just typing my name.
What then did came as a surprise is that my name came up in an entry about a book called “Exploring Television Acting” by Tom Cantrell and Christopher Hogg. I’ve never heard of it or them, but I’m quoted there, and so are others. Just the ebook costs £20.34 – and I didn’t ever get asked.
Here’s a typical passage. Taylor is Don Taylor, and I bet you never knew that you were involved in Friedberg’s Epistemic Hegemony, whatever that is…
“… This account seems to confirm the ‘intimate screen’ model: cinema does not operate in this mode because it does not offer continuous live (or as-live) performance; theatre cannot operate in this mode because in most theatre spaces, the audience is at a fixed distance from the performers, denying potential for the close-up. Taylor’s ‘expressive’ cameras ‘swing inside’ and ‘inhabit’ the action, constructing dramatic space in which camerawork and aesthetics contribute to the meaning and experience of the drama. Despite that movement however, the frame retains Friedberg’s epistemic hegemony. While seeming to offer a phenomenological involvement which the contemplative still image or fixed camera cannot, the camera never breaks the Friedbergian epistemological frame because it necessarily generates that frame, offering an ‘ontological cut’ (Friedberg 2006: 157) which constantly develops as the camera moves. This underlines the contribution of camera crews – and thus the construction and development of the televisual frame – to the making of meaning in television performance. The persistent issue of intimacy in television drama then seems to be a function of the interaction of camera operator and performer: the intersection of visible and invisible performance…”
Epistemological hegemony represents a concern for the domination of one view of knowledge and the subordination of all other forms.
To read the [most of the] article available on the Internet, click here.
“‘Visible’ and ‘Invisible’ Performance: Framing Performance in 1970s Television Drama”
Douglas McNaughton
Roger Bunce
While not pretending to understand the poncey terminology – there does seem to be a recognition here that live, or as-live, television drama, is a art-form in its own right. It allows an intimacy between camerawork and performance which is quite distinct from anything that can be experienced either in live theatre or shot-at-a-time film making. While we rude mechanicals have always been aware of this, it is nice to know that someone has recognised it on an intellectual level (even if I can’t understand what they are saying)!
Sadly, it now seems to be a lost art-form, since BBC Plays decided they wanted to be BBC Films. Only the soaps are now shot in the as-live tradition, and they are churned out with excessive haste. Maybe one day, someone will write a history of that bygone art-form which developed from the necessities of live TV.
Bernie Newnham
I can’t decide whether I feel like contacting some of these academics and asking why they didn’t actually make contact with us.
Peter Fox
They probably took a look at our website and decided that our banter was very eclectic but too abstruse for them…. orbit, cathode potential stabilised, Cornish Yarg and so on, and thought it best just to write what they had already decided.
Nevertheless, like R Bunce Esq, I thought from long ago that our medium was a unique blend of theatre and technology that, thanks to our efforts to be transparent (when required) while being an essential part of the proceedings was largely unappreciated and yet was actually a unique and ”new” art form in its own right. And now, sadly, apart from the odd pocket of resistance, largely historical.
Roger Bunce
And what’s more – we knew about eye-lines and looking-room!
Tony Grant
Interestingly, that encapsulates what I say during my talk on ‘The Visual Language and Grammar of Television’. I start by saying that I started my career as a cameraman which is a misnomer. We should have been called ‘lensmen’, since it’s the position of the lens in space and its angle of view which determines the shot. Then basically the language and grammar is a combination of photography and cinematic framing and composition, then combining each resulting shot, together with the associated recording techniques developed through gramophone and subsequent radio requirements, utilising artists with the necessary live theatre/music hall experience to perform in front of camera, to a predetermined script and time limit which is (OK, was) broadcast live.
Yes, I expand on all that, but hey, life’s too short for any more of my reminiscences just now (brought to you courtesy of the bad weather preventing me being able to get a real life!).
Bernie Newnham
[Ed: Bernie decided to email the editors, Tom Cantrell and Christopher Hogg.]
Gentlemen, Good Morning
I typed my name into Google the other day, looking for a reference in an article I wrote some years ago. There was more of me than I expected, and on page 2 I found a Google Books rip-off of your book “Exploring Television Acting”. It only has a few pages, which happen to includes a quote from me. I don’t mind that at all, but looking at what text I could, I saw that I seemed to be the only ex-Tech-Ops person quoted.
Much of the sections seemed to be material from Herbie Wise and others. Though we all had huge respect for Herbie, he was a freelance director, and studio crews had a lot of other bookings. On Jim Atkinson’s crew 5, where we were on big dramas most weeks, I followed Jim around, paging his camera cable, on “Much Ado About Nothing”, “Romeo and Juliet”, “The Bloodknot”, “Eugene Onegin” and a good few others. Herbie was a fairly rare visitor – and directed none of those – so although his perceptions of us, and Jim especially, are of course very valid, they aren’t all accurate, and he possibly gives himself rather more credit for his part in our lives than is correct. Jim didn’t “break the panning handle” for instance. In fact others on the crew were the leaders in the short upward panning handle method of operation. And I doubt Herbie had much influence on Jim’s promotion either, life wasn’t like that.
Though Jim is long gone, and so, recently, is Rod Taylor, his number two for some years, lots of us are still around. I run an email list of several hundred ex BBC Television Centre camera and sound people. We’ve seen this before – not having anyone ask us – so when I sent the link, the general reaction was somewhat cynical. The Tech-Ops website, from where you got my quote, is a reaction to being ignored generally, a chance to tell our stories. When I’m gone, I imagine it will just disappear, like us.
One thing we really, really want to know. What on earth is Friedberg’s Epistemic Hegemony? It didn’t ever get a mention in the Blue Tea Bar, or in the canteen before a live transmission.
Roger Bunce
I can see that the philosophy of knowledge comes into this (sort of).
Most of the games we play are intended to give knowledge to the viewers. The knowledge we are imparting is a pack of lies, but they need to believe it, in order to enjoy it. E.g. we try to convince that there are no cameras, microphones or lights involved (which there are); that the performance is taking place in a living room which has four walls and ceiling (which it doesn’t), and that the Tardis really is bigger on the inside (which – No – I’d better not spoil that for everyone).
So, the way people gain knowledge through observation, and the way that observation and knowledge can be deceived by devious cameramen, etc. is of relevance. Looks like we may have to plead guilty to wilful and pre-meditated epistemology!
Alec Bray
May I applaud Bernie’s email to the authors? While we all acknowledged Jim (and the drama crews in general) there was a lot of unnoticed developing camerawork on serials such as “Softly Softly” and many many others. In LE, the close up, track out to a high wide shot was a staple “End of the Show” shot!
In the article, Waris Hussein seems to imply that it was not possible to see the fourth wall of a set at this time. In fact, in the production of “In Camera” (transmission date: 4 November 1964, one of the Wednesday Play series), there were three identical sets, one of which had all four walls with the camera (a Marconi Mk 4) suspended on a cradle from a scene hoist in the centre of this room (so must have been done in TC3) (I looked in the studio and saw this for myself!)
IMDb includes this comment:
“… Features a tracking shot which follows Estelle (Katherine Woodville) as she walks round and round the room. The technical daring and expert execution of this shot, thought to have been done by cameraman Jim Atkinson, has become legendary among BBC cameramen….”
Here is a link to the Tech Ops web site re “in Camera” including a link to the four walls shot:
The Developing Camera Shot
It was not Jim’s shot apparently – it was Geoff Clark – but was crew 5.
Roger Bunce
O.K. I only managed page one (before losing the will to live), but it seemed to me that Herbie Wise was claiming the credit for a lot of techniques which had developed naturally from the practical necessities of live television.
Primary credit for the type of mobile camerawork, that we were all familiar with, must go to Bill Vinten, or whoever it was that first realised that all television cameras needed to be on wheels.
Equal credit should go to whoever recognised the need for flat, level studio floors, so that cameras could move smoothly (-ish) in any direction at any time.
[Ed: you might like to look at Television Studio Engineering].
Without these practical developments, Directors could shout anything they liked at the microphone, but it wouldn’t have happened. And these technical advances were in response to the needs of working live. There just wasn’t time to lay rails, or re-rig tripods, as you might on a film shoot. Also important was the invention of the lens turret, so that the action didn’t have to stop while the Cameraman changed lenses.
I was a bit offended by the idea that no Cameraman ever thought of adjusting his position, to compensate for misplaced actors, until Herbie Wise told him to! I know there were a few stubborn characters in the department but, generally, a Cameraman on the floor will see things going wrong long before a Director in the gallery notices, and will be moving his ped in anticipation, even before positions have settled – even if he’s still drifting a bit after the cut. If you waited for a Director to notice the problem, it would be too late. In live theatre, if an actor dries, fluffs, falls over, etc., things can’t stop. Everyone has to ad lib their way through the hiatus, until they can get back on script. In live television, the Cameramen often had to improvise in a similar manner, in response to unrehearsed situations. This was particularly true in an age when the equipment was less reliable. It was not unknown for a camera to die, live on air, and the others would have to compensate by sharing out its shots.
Elsewhere, I have heard Mervyn Pinfield credited as the Director who first covered whole scenes on a single camera, in continuously developing shots. But, again, this evolved from necessity. There just weren’t enough cameras. I think there were three cameras per studio at A.P.; four became the norm at Lime Grove, Riverside, etc. On any one scene, you couldn’t use all the cameras because one might still be struggling across from the previous set, and another might already have been cleared to the next. In the cinema, you might hold a whole scene in a wide shot, but you couldn’t do that on television because, with only 405 lines of resolution, and Granny watching on a 9 inch screen, the details wouldn’t have been discernible. You had to get in on the faces. And since you couldn’t allocate a camera per face, you had to move the actors and cameras such that the shot progressed from one face, or group of faces, to another.
One mystery remains. Why am I explaining all this to people who already know it better than I do?!
Geoff Fletcher
On adjusting the camera position to compensate for positional errors by actors etc. – it was a skill we had to learn. I remember when tracking a Heron or a Mole, or swinging the latter, it was a big moment when the cameraman up front allowed you to mount a monitor to adjust with. It meant that you had reached another stage in trust and skill levels. Ah, those really were the days!
Alec Bray
[Ed: Alec decided to email the author of the article in the collection: Duncan McNaughton]
May I introduce myself? I am Alec Bray, and at the start of my career I was a Technical Operator with BBC Television. My colleague Bernie Newnham has shown me parts of your chapter “‘Visible’ and ‘Invisible’ performance: Framing Performance in 1970s Television Drama” in the book “Exploring Television Acting”.
In your chapter there is a quote from Waris Hussein from 1972 “… I wanted a sequence where [the] main character walks all the way around the room and I wanted to follow her on one camera….” and the implication is that this was a tough call and required a post-production edit of the Videotape (an expensive option at the time).
However, “In Camera” was a drama produced by the BBC in 1964, adapted for television from “Huis Clos” by Sartre and directed by Philip Saville, starring Harold Pinter as Garcin. There were three IDENTICAL sets in TC3 (Television Centre Studio 3). The sets were all white. One was built on a rostrum for low angle shots (and had a movable ceiling), one had a camera track on top of the walls all round it for high angle shots, and one had all four walls in position to give an illusion of 360 degree shooting.
The room was supposed to be an ante room for hell, and the decor consisted of just three modern art pictures on the walls and a single bench and that was it.
One Marconi Mk 3 IO camera was in the centre of the four wall set, not on a ped but suspended on slings from the scene hoists so that it could do a 360 degree plus pan. It followed one of the three actors, Catherine Woodville, as she walked round the set.
The full panning shot is here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xomQUQ8WRl4
Apparently, the cameraman for this shot was Geoff Clark, and the crew was crew 5 (senior cameraman: Jim Atkinson). As the camera was suspended, the cable did not need to be pre-wound round the ped (although clearly care need to be taken by the “cable bashers” re twists in the cable)!
In a regular drama, the luxury of three sets and a dedicated camera was unlikely to be achieved, but my point is that it could be done and was done..
A one-off drama with three (or even four) days rehearsal in the studio was a different “beast” to the regular series programmes such as “Z-Cars” and “Softly Softly”, and many others. All these programmes included developing shots at appropriate times, and were done by the “general purpose” (or “Joe Bloggs”) crews, Most of the crews were “self-selecting” – if you particularly liked drama you tried to get on a drama crew (2 or 5 in my day): if you liked Light Entertainment, you went to an LE crew like crew 13. I was on “general purpose” crews – as an example, on one week for which I have records, we did “Not Only …But Also” on Sunday, “Softly Softly” on Tuesday and Wednesday (LIVE transmission at 20:10 on Weds!) with a Schools programme on the Saturday. (A number of Tech Ops people still have their duty diaries: unfortunately I don’t).
In this context, I would like to point out that not only Directors wanted crews, but crews wanted to work with specific staff Directors. The senior cameraman would lobby for a series and/or series Director. and the crews would send (specially created) Christmas cards to staff directors that they wanted to work with.
You might also like to consider the case that staff directors and producers did not necessarily work in one genre, unlike perhaps the freelance directors that you have quoted. One springs to mind: Robin Nash. He was a Light Entertainment director, some days doing “Top of the Pops” – but because “Dixon of Dock Green” was a Light Entertainment production (a story in itself), there were many weeks when he was directing “Dixon…” !!
We all applaud the recognition that your article has given to developing camerawork in the live or as-live drama productions in the 1960s through to the 1980s, but there is a lot more to be said, not just restricted to the “high end” drama productions. Light Entertainment has its own “frames of reference” – for example, the classic end-of-the-show shot, where the camera is on a close-up of a performer or artefact, then tracks out fast to a high-angle wide shot of the whole set.
And there is a whole area of concern – that of the SOUND picture. The BBC was very strong on sound perspective, where the boom operators swung the boom arm and twisted to microphone to make the sound perspective match the visual perspective. The sound scape in general is as important as the picture: the two are complementary. There is a whole section on the Tech ops website about sound – in your terms – another “actor” in the scene – and this should never be forgotten. (See for example, Boom Operating).
There is a lot of interesting stuff on the BBC Tech Ops web site, contributed by members of the Technical Operators from the former BBC Television Studio Crews. An academic analysis of some of this could well be very useful – and, of course, it is the history of the practitioners and their practices.
Bernie Newnham
I wouldn’t be surprised if we don’t get any replies.
I think the material is composed of PhD theses. People put a lot of time into these things and they really don’t want to be criticised or suggested that their work is perhaps incomplete. They are the historians and we are just oiks. I went along to a showing of “Galileo” (with Jim in vision) once at the NFT , and said hello to the academic running it. I said I’d done my bit dragging Jim’s cable but he really didn’t want to know about the experiences of someone who was there – almost rude. They’ve built their little worlds of media studies and they don’t want ours.
Maybe I’ll be proved wrong.
PS We had a media studies department at KU. The man who ran it, a rather arrogant chap, had done his thesis on “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”.
Roger Bunce
I suppose, while you’re writing your thesis, it’s all important to you. But once it’s finished, and marked, and you’ve got your qualification, you probably forget about it quite quickly, and move on. The last thing you want is to meet someone who says you’ve got it all wrong!
And, as we know from Alex Moore, examiners like you to use ‘Secondary Sources’, i.e. stuff that’s already published. That way they can check up on you. If you take your evidence from eye-witnesses, who were actually there, but haven’t put it in writing, the examiners have no way of confirming that you’ve reported things accurately. All of which means – someone’ll have to write the book!
I like the idea of writing a thesis on “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”. It sounds more like a specialist subject on “Mastermind”. Do you think I could get a PhD based on critical analysis of “Carry On Up The Khyber”?
Alec Bray
I wrote to the author of the piece “Visible and Invisible Performance” in the book “Exploring Television Acting”. In that email, I hope that I have made a couple of points: that the camera as actor is not just restricted to the “high end” drama productions but was essentially a constant throughout multi-camera production – including Light Entertainment – and that there is a whole area of concern that was ignored – that of the SOUND picture and the contribution of sound also as an actor in the drama (or whatever). .
Today I have emailed a corollary to that email –
“… You could not have had a better example of [the camera as an actor in Light Entertainment] than during “Dancing on Ice: The final” on Sunday 08 March 2020, firstly during Joe Squash’s first performance, but more particularly during the Torville and Dean Exhibition Dance, where the camera was fully choreographed into the routine – it was part of the routine. and a full performer along with the skaters (the camera was in a harness on a skating cameraman). It was done as one continuous shot, too – something which has become more popular recently, notably in one episode of “Casualty” (I believe last season) where the camera was handed from one camera team to another, …”
I share Bernie’s view that we are unlikely to hear back from the academics, but Bernie’s Tech Ops website is a place that could and should become a valuable source of material for future researchers who may credit our contributions to television production…”
Albert Barber
I feel that are getting sucked into the academic world.
The skills of a human being, on the one hand, to perform and the other to produce a record of that performance are two different skills.
Academics often look for more than exists to make a subject for their ideas.
Our craft is wonderful on all levels from the man on the gate who welcomes you as you enter a studio or location which makes the day brighter to the not inconsiderate skills of all the crew.
I love the business and the people. We were lucky to have worked with some of the best, not least those on this forum.
Dr. Douglas McNaughton [reply to email]
I am gratified that you enjoyed my chapter on Invisible Performance. I’ve also written an article about OB camerawork which may be of interest ….
The whole area deserves much more recognition and examination than it has received. The contemporary examples you give are important of course, but my research interests are primarily in 20th century British television. With that in mind, would you and your colleagues be interested in taking part in a larger-scale research project examining the practice and development of television camerawork over the last 50 years or so? I think there is easily a book in it, based around interviews with practitioners and case study analysis.
Bernie Newnham
That seems like something well worth doing!
Alec Bray
We have a reply from Douglas McNaughton, the academic who wrote the paper about Invisible Performance. Bernie has replied to him along the lines that it seems like something well worth doing!
Dr Douglas McNaughton [reply to email]
Many thanks for your fascinating emails. I am gratified that you enjoyed my chapter on Invisible Performance. I’ve also written an article about OB camerawork which may be of interest and I have attached it here.
The whole area deserves much more recognition and examination than it has received. The contemporary examples you give are important of course, but my research interests are primarily in 20th century British television. With that in mind, would you and your colleagues be interested in taking part in a larger-scale research project examining the practice and development of television camerawork over the last 50 years or so? I think there is easily a book in it, based around interviews with practitioners and case study analysis.
Note: Click on Download PDF to open the PDF in a suitable viewer: this allows you to print or save the complete PDF document, and often makes the document easier to read.
To return to this page, use your browser’s Go Back One Page button.
Alan Taylor
I was interested to read what Douglas McNaughton wrote and especially what he said about OB camerawork in the late 1970s.
I hadn’t started getting involved in drama work at that particular time. The LPU and LMCR were relatively new vehicles, designed for drama shoots as well as other smaller OBs too. I didn’t feel that there was a widely held appreciation for the need for specialist crews for drama work amongst the higher echelons of Kendal Avenue management ( sound and camera line managers did understand ). In the early days there were some dramas which were not crewed by the most appropriate people and I recognise some of the criticisms which were outlined. Skills were being honed and finessed, lessons were being learned, experience was being gained. OB drama was different to studios and different to film too.
My introduction to drama was guided by Ian Leiper in the early 1980’s, who I feel should be given a huge amount of credit for how he approached and transformed OB drama audio. Colin White and subsequently Jeff Baker both understood the particular requirements for drama work and scheduled sound crews appropriately, taking into account expertise and personalities. Ian generously shared his wisdom and gave me a huge amount of support in my early days, in particular stressing how important it was to deliver uniform results. A scene recorded on day one may be edited next to a scene recorded two months later under entirely different weather conditions. He believed very strongly that the crew’s efforts should generally be imperceptible to the audience. Obviously the audience should not be aware of any flaws, but neither should our efforts attract attention unless there is a specific dramatic reason.
It was a privilege to be instructed by Ian. He also welcomed the way that when a Drama was mostly shot as an OB, the OB sound supervisor would usually perform the Sypher dub. Ian taught me a huge amount about the dubbing process. Having the same person responsible for recording on location and also the final dub makes for a consistent production. Newcomers obviously get trained in the mechanics of operational areas, but Ian was more interesting in explaining the thinking behind how you organise dubs, making sure that you pace yourself during the mixing process to avoid rushing towards the end, having scripts and tapes properly marked so that wild tracks can be rapidly located, with the good bits properly identified. Above all, he mentioned on numerous occasions how it was crucial that the dialogue is captured cleanly ( which also means performed clearly ) and should not become needlessly obscured by music or sound effects added in the dub. We’re telling a story and while people tend to remember particular images, it’s the dialogue which tells the story.
I’ve always felt that when we are on location, we are gathering raw materials, but when we perform the dub, we’re cooking with those materials. If the raw materials are sufficiently good, then those ingredients can shine through in the final dish without requiring spices or sauces to disguise flaws.
Ian also taught me that the importance of tech rehearsal, location recce’s and planning meetings cannot be understated. While on attachment, during my training to be a sound supervisor, I attended a number of rehearsals or planning meetings and it was a very mixed bag. Sometimes a supervisor regarded it as little more than an excuse to get out of the studio for a few hours and have a pint in the pub before returning to work. Some planning meetings got bogged down over relatively trivial matters which would have better been resolved between just a couple of interested parties rather than all the heads of department. Some of these meetings and rehearsals were very productive. Rehearsals, site visits and planning meetings are often the first opportunity to meet the people you’ll be working with for the next few weeks and can pave the way for a good working relationship starting on day one of the shoot. Ian drummed into me that the first contact with a new production team is likely to be a site visit or planning meeting. The impression you create during that initial meeting will influence how people regard you during the rest of the shoot. Always be constructive, considerate and congenial.
McNaughton’s mention of “Location Community” particularly resonated with me. When I started working on dramas, it was standard practice for the crew to stay somewhere different to the production team. It didn’t take me long to realise that staying in the ‘production hotel’ was a much more rewarding proposition. You bond with the production team or actors very rapidly, which has a positive effect of the shooting process. On a show which was shot on Dartmoor, there was limited room in the production hotel, meaning that the sound crew and other departments had to stay elsewhere. I found a fabulous small hotel nearby where we could organise soirees, inviting groups of the crew and actors to join us in the evenings. The location caterers fed us during the day, but what we needed in the evenings was a space to unwind, have a few drinks and maybe some light snacks. The woman who owned the hotel was delighted to welcome our colleagues and provided snacks for everybody free of charge because we weren’t taking breakfast at the hotel. A comfortable space to relax and chill is important and can be hard to find in large hotels.
There was one memorable children’s series where the production team insisted on having what we would normally think of as a wrap party during the first week. They believed that if the crew socialise together, they work better together. Parties were a regular aspect of that shoot, I was asked beforehand to bring along a sound system for party music, the sparks brought a light show, the caterers provided a big mobile BBQ while the costume department went to the costume store and grabbed huge quantities of fancy dress clothing. The shoot itself was quite challenging at times, but the way everybody worked together was fantastic. If the actors feel comfortable with the crew, they are more able to deliver a good performance. If the crew are comfortable with the actors, it makes for a less stressful shoot and friendly people tend to look after each other.
Sitting in the sound control area of either the LPU or LMCR meant that you might be some distance from the shooting location. About that time I had been having unofficial attachments to the BBC Film Department at Ealing and had noticed how they used wheeled Ursta carts to hold the mixer, recorder and ancillary equipment. I saw the possibilities and tried using one on an OB drama so that I could operate near the set. From that point onwards I seldom worked in the truck – even during inclement weather. The mixer and a Nagra served to capture the sound and record a snoop tape ( to record every take so that in the dub I can use bits from discarded takes ). A multi cable connected my mixer to the VT in the truck and replays came back along that multi too, together with the timecode for the snoop tape. The Ursta cart was highly mobile and even getting up and down stairs was quick and easy. By being located within the shooting area, I could talk directly with whoever I needed to talk with. I could often see problems for myself and deal with them earlier. I might have a quiet word with an actor and point out that a particular phrase didn’t have sufficient clarity, suggesting either clearer diction, or maybe finishing the phrase before turning away from the microphone. If a distant plane becomes audible during the take, the director can look at me and I can instantly indicate whether it’s good, bad, or so-so. If I sign that it’s so-so, the director can use the take if they like it, or alternatively blame the plane for wanting a retake, especially if a prickly actor hadn’t delivered the desired performance that time.
One other aspect of Location Community was the realisation that for a big drama series, the crew, actors and production team would be working long hours together for 5 or 6 days per week for maybe twelve weeks with only every second weekend off. You don’t want to be stuck with people who don’t get on with each other, or who have annoying personality traits. They may be very competent at swinging a boom, but such skills can be outweighed if their personality makes them difficult to work with for extended periods. I did a shoot towards the end of my time in the BBC where I was not being offered the sort of boom ops who I preferred to work with and decided to take just one trusted boom op together with a trainee who was on attachment for the summer. The experienced boom op went sick during the first week and would be off for a few weeks, but by then I had seen that the trainee was excellent and could be trusted for the rest of the shoot, so I had no hesitation in using another similar trainee who also proved to excellent. The fact that I was stood near to the set with my Ursta cart meant that I could observe how they operated and have a word with them if I spotted something which needed attention. During moments while other departments are getting ready, I could chat to the trainee boom ops and explain what I was hoping to achieve and how we could make it happen.
One often overlooked skill that OB crews have is to work effectively in unrehearsed situations. We can get our act together very quickly in order to shoot without delay when the clouds finally move away after having spent ages patiently observing the clouds. With child actors, they sometimes get bored after a few takes, so it can be important to get scenes recoded sooner rather than later. I might encourage a director to ‘rehearse with the red light on” so that we capture the best of the performance before the kids get bored. On period dramas, if the weather is right and there are no passing planes at that time, we should be properly prepared so that we can get as many takes as possible in the can while there is an opportunity.
Philip Savile was mentioned as being a pioneer of some aspects of location video drama. In the early to mid 80’s, there was inevitably a moment in the planning meeting or location recce where a director was likely to say that they wanted “the film look”. It generally involved making the pictures softer and less vibrant. Philip hadn’t mentioned such things while we were planning Life and Loves of a She Devil and when John King brought up the subject, Philip was adamant that as it was going to be shot on video, it should celebrate that it was shot on video. The pictures should not be compromised and should deliver the best possible results at all times.
I’ve previously described how on the first day of shooting, Philip decided to do a very complex single take, starting outdoors and then going into the house and moving from room to room. It was a swine of a shot to do, especially on day one, but we did it and no further editing was needed with only minimal extra shots being needed to complete the scene. The acting portrayed a scene of domestic chaos. Shooting it as a series of individual shots would have been a nightmare for performance and continuity, but shooting it as one shot solved multiple problems even though it created interesting challenges for the various departments to solve.
Roger Bunce
You’ve got me thinking about Light Entertainment….
Camera performances on Light Entertainment (L.E.) programmes can be extremely ‘Visible’ i.e. wildly hurtling swoops, even when the artistes are relatively stationary. This would seem to defy the TV Drama convention of pretending that the cameras don’t exist. In L.E. the cameras overtly exist, and their spectacular movements are part of the entertainment. But, of course, there are two justifications for this:
A: no one pretends that L.E. is real life, and
B: the music.
The timing of camera movements in L.E. is motivated by the tempo of the music. Cameras become part of the general ballet.
Concerning Improvised Camerawork in L.E.
(In ye olde days, when we were young, long-haired, and the music was much better!)
“Old Grey Whistle Test” in Pres. B, directed by Tom Corcoran, when the cameras were manned by three young(-ish) idiots, with no real crew structure.
Tom didn’t really rehearse the music numbers. The cameras would offer shots. Tom would cut up the ones he liked, and tell you to look elsewhere if he didn’t. There was always a certain humorous competitiveness, trying to clock-up a higher score of shots than your colleagues. Just keep monitoring output on Viewfinder Mix, and always offer something compatible with the shot currently on air. On one occasion, in the psychedelic early seventies, we were each trying to push the limits, by inventing shots that were ever more avant-garde and unconventional (i.e. silly). Could we find a shot that was so bizarre that even Tom Corcoran would think we had gone too far? I think I was the first across the line. My shot showed the lead singer’s face, bottom two thirds of frame, with the drum kit directly behind him, such that two cymbals (symbols?) grew out of his head, like Mickey Mouse ears, and the drum sticks appeared to be pounding on his hair. Tom laughed, but declined my kind offer. After that we settled down a bit.
The “In Concert” series (early 1970s) directed by Stan Dorfman, at Television Theatre.
This followed a similar pattern. By way of rehearsal, the bands would play their music and the camera crew would look for possible shots, but nothing would be tied down. The recording would be largely ad lib. This time, the formal crew structure – it was Ron Peverall’s crew – restrained our wilder excesses. (This is where I realise that I’d be useless as a name-dropper, because I can’t remember the names of the bands/groups/musician involved. The only ones who spring to mind are Buddy Rich and Ravi Shankar. In the latter case, the P.A. made a heroic attempt at counting bars, before admitting defeat!)
A trick learned – If you found a really original, distinctive shot, try not to feature it too strongly during rehearsals because, when you repeated on recording, Stan was likely to say, “Seen it!” and ask for something different – forgetting that he’d only seen it on rehearsal, and hadn’t actually recorded it!
One exception – Inspired by “2001: a Space Odyssey”, I was experimenting with shot compositions, in which the key elements were arranged vertically, rather than side by side. I found an interesting high(-ish) shot in which two back-lit folk singers were aligned vertically. Stan Dorfman liked it, “It’s like a piece of Sculpture,” he cried, and asked me to recreate it on recording. But then he put it through a colour synthesiser, turning into an abstract pattern which, I felt, rather spoiled my original design concept!
You also had to be careful what shots you offered, since you didn’t know what Stan might ask you to do with them. I was offering a low shot, from beneath a drum kit, looking steeply up at the drummers face through defocussed cymbals. To achieve this, I had squeezed my ped into a confined space, and was lying on my back on the floor. Stan liked the shot, cut it up, and said, “You’ve got eight bars – Develop!” Having rendered myself virtually immobile, I could only zoom out, until the lens was wide enough to risk a wobbly crawl backwards, before moving out and up to something more frontal. Fortunately, when Stan said, “Develop”, he didn’t specify a direction or end objective. That was up to you. (I now find it difficult to believe that I was ever that young and flexible!)
Hugh Sheppard
Roger triggers the memory bank, with “The Trad Fad” of 1961 as precedent of Tom’s OGWT inventiveness.
Director/Producer Johnnie Stewart led the way in trusting the cameraman’s contribution to the dance. Recall has it that between myself and Brian Kingston on 3 & 4 for Crew 6 (?) in TC3, we carried more than our fair share of unrehearsed shots, with a memorable call from Johnny of “…Hugh; I don’t know what it is, but I’m taking it…”. ‘It’ was a close-up of the mouth of a ‘Temperance Seven’ trombone – an amorphous mix of rimless reflections – that pulled out to most of the band. And I mean ‘pulled out’ because the early zooms with their great mass out front were the ruination of the camera and operator in a mobile partnership.
Of course in B&W, and I’d guess that would have been 405 lines. Can anyone identify any saved recordings?
Nick Ware
The EMI 2001, as I know you all know, had the lens inside the camera body, with the tubes at the back. I’m not a cameraman, but it was obvious to me that by placing the internal focal point of the lens over the centre axis of the pan head, a pan was a pan and not a sweeping sideways movement. You could see the difference it made.
Dabbling in, and rejecting Film as a career path, I always thought the Moy geared head was the daftest invention imaginable, clearly designed so that three people were needed to operate pan/tilt, aperture and focus, and clapper-loading, plus, of course, a Grip to move the camera. And then on top of all that, video assist! I was totally convinced that ACTT minimum crewing numbers had something to do with that – as it was (and still is?) in the sound dept, where you had to have a four person sound crew huddled around a Nagra, even if at least one of them had nothing to do! I could bore you endlessly with stories around that topic – but won’t.
Roger Bunce
I’ve had another request from Toby Hadoke. Another his friends is writing another article. This time it is about Alec Wheal, for “Doctor Who” magazine. So, any jolly stories about Alec, please pass them along.
Pat Heigham
I can confirm that Toby Hadoke is an OK guy. I have been interviewed by him three times –
One for “Doctor Who” days, one for “Out of the Unknown” for the BFI DVD release, and later for a general reminiscence on sound operations, into which I roped Mike McCarthy, for a podcast.
I think that while it’s nice to chew the cud over our respective careers and memories thereof, the interest is coming much too late in many cases, where folks have shuffled off. Such a pity.
