Nick Flowers

And now a very old recording. The back story is that this was recorded in the BBC Club at Broadcasting House with John Snagge* and two others. They are analysing the venerable poem Eskimo Nell and attempting to arrive at an Agreed Text from their combined memories. They treat it in an academic manner, but of course the poem is Very Rude Indeed with all of the words that one would not utter in the presence of the Vicar. I was given the tape for this in the late 1960s.

https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/40718050/John Snagge %26 Jack Hulbert - Eskimo Nell(mono).mp3

*John Snagge was a BBC Announcer, here is a link to him in his more usual role.

Nice stuff, Jay.

Now, this is a real occasion when the tape was left running to record the members of a band called The Troggs. What amuses me are the accents (I believe they hailed from Andover in Hampshire) and the idiotic conversation. Lots and lots of the foulest language, if you are easily offended, move along. No, really: it is pretty inexorable; almost every other word.

I heard the audio tape of this decades ago, but this is the first time I've seen the video update.

http://www.betootaadvocate.com/advocate-in-focus/new-study-finds-89-of-people-who-can-fix-things-are-named-rod/

This is from Handel's Saul. Some nice tunes and a snappy chorus you can hum along to.

The plot is that a lady who rather fancies David hears that he is to be married to a high ranking girl: "Ah, lovely youth, wast thou designed with that proud beauty to be joined?"  The short answer to this is apparently 'Yes'.

Meanwhile, Saul has returned after a battle and the crowd praises David rather more than him. This goes down like a cup of cold sick.

"David his ten thousand slew, ten thousand praises are his due"  they sing and Saul says: "What do I hear? Am I then sunk so low to have this upstart boy preferred before me?" Again it seems that the answer is 'Yes'. Students of the Bible will know the outcome to all this - all others listen to the oratorio in full, it is full of good bits.

I once was shooting at 'Red Hat' event

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_Hat_Society

And I got my bottom pinched. But that's not quite the same - I was quite flattered, actually.

I think that my initial reaction would have been the same. It is so ingrained not to speak or to disrupt the shoot while the camera is turning (apart from technical reasons) that I would have endured the rigid digit as you did. But I am pretty certain that I am too cowardly to have confronted the drunk in the street afterwards. In the old days I would have despatched my sound maintenance engineer to give the insolent fellow a sound thrashing, but alas those days are past. 

I think this is beautiful. I hope others here do too.

I hope he alerted the person on the mixing desk before his act!

I had some limited success with these TRAM MC1 accessories

http://www.trammicrophones.com/sale/detail.asp?partno=TR-MC1

although it might make too much of a visible lump in your case. A home made re-shaped large paper clip can sometimes work too.

Good luck!

Oh Yes indeed. Atmos tracks are so important.

Quiet extras, though.

UK members of a certain age may remember Whicker's World, a TV series with Alan Whicker going all over the world and chatting with rich people. Long walking talking shots were a part of this and I heard that an SN was always used instead of a radio mic, possibly because of the distances from the camera and also maybe because of different frequency allocations across the world. The one thing that stuck in my mind about this was that before he began on his piece to camera, Whicker (see this link 

for a Monty Python micky take) would have to say a few words so that the ALC would set itself. I don't recall an STC hand mic being used in Whicker's World...that would have been a hang over from his time on the Tonight programme, I think.

Today's reverie  brought me back to my first feature film ('Made': mixer Rene Borisewitz), where I was responsible, among other things, for operating the rotary converter or hooking up the BNC Mitchell camera to three phase mains via a transformer and start box. The electricians showed me how to jam the bare ends on the three phase lead into the local fuse box, if there was one handy on location, and the thought of 440 volts kept my mind on the job! When there was no three phase supply available, the rotary was used, powered of two lorry batteries (24 volts). There was a mechanical frequency meter on it and when I heard 'turn over' from the First Assistant Director I would push the switch and wait for the meter to indicate that 50 Hz had been reached, then I would sing out "Speed", and the clapper could go on. On a cold morning the camera seemed to take ages to reach speed, and I was the centre of attention, as film passed through the gate, wasted. I could feel everyone was willing me to say 'speed', but I was the slave of the meter. 

I really love your research on this JB. Fascinating stuff.

From left to right: Sound Recordist, Electrician, Cameraman, Camera Assistant and Reporter. This was the Southern Television Brighton crew before Southern lost the franchise and TVS took over (and TVS were a bunch of jumped up barrow boys with delusions of adequacy). Thames Television (London based) had dedicated drivers, but that was understandable given the traffic problems in the capital. In the South the assistant usually drove with the spark and the cameraman sitting up front. The recordist lay across the back seat, usually in swinish slumber. I know of one soundy who had a screaming cushion, into which he used to scream his frustration on the way to the next job; I never took life that seriously.The reporter had his own car as he would take the film back to the studio for processing, while the crew went on to the next story. Very happy days indeed, strictly governed by union agreements. A book needs to be written about those times, so different in every way from work now, both technically and in working practices. And it just so happens that on my hard drive is a masterpiece just waiting for the right time to release it upon the unsuspecting world....

I don't know whether sympathy or admiration is in order here!

That is an Auricon mixer/amplifier and you can see that it is plugged into the camera. There was a recording head inside the camera for the magnetic stripe on the edge of the 16mm film, and a playback head too which sent a confidence signal back to the Auricon. That camera is a Frezzolini and it sounded like a sewing machine. The little silver box wedged under the neck strap provided 12 volts T power for the Sennheiser 805 that is gripped in my manly hand. The bearded phase I was affecting did not last long after I was told that I resembled a house fly.

The camera assistant, Rick, is holding a clapper board for no real reason except self importance. We only used the board when we were shooting double system (that is, with a Nagra). When the sound was being recorded on the edge of the film it would be in sync with the picture, if Rick had laced the camera up rightly.  About the only positive thing that can be said about single system is that the sound will be in sync - the quality, as you can imagine, was appalling. The great thing about shooting with film was that film stock was expensive and the reporter couldn't go on and on for bloody hours asking his questions in the interviews. Two mags were the limit for ordinary stories, and that's 20 minutes in total. Try and get a journo to keep to that now. 

When I was working on a news crew in the 1980s the newsroom told us to go to the Savoy Hotel in London to record an interview with some faded starlet or other. So we duly arrived, but the hotel knew nothing about it. Assuming that the newsroom had neglected to inform them, we insisted that it had all been arranged, so the hotel gave us access to a room to set the gear up, which we did. Unfortunately one of the lamps burst its bubble and spat molten glass all over the floor, where it set light to the carpet. While we were stamping on the smoldering bits and moving the furniture to cover the worst burns a message reached us that in fact it was The Ritz hotel that we were to film in, the newsroom had got confused. Silently, smoothly we wrapped our gear and stole away giggling, I am ashamed to say, not deeming it necessary to own up to our misdemeanours. All this happened in the days when we traveled as a crew in a Ford Transit van, parking for which in London was arranged with the police by the production team. Hah! I can just see that happening now.

Below is a photo of our heroes, posing in the manner of a Victorian fire brigade beside their engine.

Film Crew.pdf

Re: The Third Man, I remember reading somewhere that some of Anton Karas's zither tracks were recorded in a hotel bedroom...not sure what on: would tape recorders have been available then? Probably a disc recorder. Or maybe a sound camera?? Anyone have any info on this?

All examples have minimal editing and virtually no sync dialogue, We're doing ourselves out of a job!

Joe Brown plays the ukulele at George Harrison's Celebration gig. Count the chords...rather nicely played, I thought.

Even if you haven't seen the whole film, I reckon that this final shot is one of the most moving. From The Third Man.

Things I wish I hadn't done.

On Joseph Andrews we were shooting in an old mansion on a Woodfall production of Henry Fielding's book. I had amused myself by putting together a lead that took the off tape output of the Nagra IV-S, and fed back into the mixer to give an echo effect which Peter Handford, my boss, would fade in when the clapper went on to make life interesting for the editor. He and I loved little japes like that - on one scene he ask me to lay out a microphone to a flock of hens in the courtyard of a scene and he fed that into the dialogue (on a separate track) to produce wonderful background atmos. ANYWAY, after the board had gone on (with appropriate echoes on the clap) the dialogue began and to our horror (I was monitoring off tape from the Nagra) we heard a little of the echo remaining there even though it was faded down. We regarded each other with expressions of incredulity, horror and amusement. Quietly I removed the link after that and as there were further takes of that scene, it was not a disaster; but that particular take was printed. At rushes Tony Richardson the director complimented Peter on the echo saying that it brought the atmosphere of the old house to life. Phew!