David Mitchell’s mutliplatform success

Speaking personally, David Mitchell is a bit of a hero. The man can write, the man can speak and the man can act. He’s someone who exudes a reassuring level of intelligence when he’s introduced on any television programme. You know he won’t dumb you down. He is the perfect insurance policy for any broadcast.

He and comedy partner Robert Webb have pulled off something quite impressive in recent months. Whilst they seem to make regular appearances on TV at nearly every opportunity, they haven’t peaked and suffered the ignominity of over-exposure. Not only that they have just this week succeeded in launching a new series of Peep Show on Channel 4 whilst their newest series on BBC Radio 4 runs at the same time. They are busy people who make us laugh because they are good at what they do.

Part of their success must surely have something to do with their grasp of the mediums they like to work in. None more so than David Mitchell’s video podcasty things of which the one below is a particular favourite.

Clearly the gag relies on the simple display of various posters green-screened behind Mitchell. It’s simplicity goes further than that however when you consider that this video piece could just as easily work as an audio download. There aren’t many people who appear to be pulling off a mastery in the multiplatform world, but those who do remind us one of key fundamental rule in production: keep it simple.

David Mitchell’s web video thing written with John Finnemore entitled “Passion” is a shining example of both their abilities and a timely reminder that the traditional 3 or 4 minute radio talk isn’t dead. Thanks to the RandyMice blog for the heads up.

Proms 2009: Prom 2 – Haydn \ The Creation

You may be surprised to learn I studied conducting at University under the tutelage of Professor Denis McCaldin, someone I once understood or (certainly appreciated) to be a leading expert on the composer Haydn until work friend chappy David pointed out that the title was still very much reserved for Robbins Landon.

You probably won’t be surprised to read that I wasn’t terribly good at conducting. This combined with a great many other things I wasn’t good at meant I left University floundering, initially thinking I’d turn my hand to arts administration and (when I’d made a pigs ear of that) later attempting IT support.

When I realised I didn’t actually care whether people’s computers actually worked or not, I ended up pursuing this largely vain (and in vain, I might add) goal of writing and presenting.

Thus you the reader and me (the saddo on a Saturday night writing a blog post when long suffering partner downstairs wonders when I’ll be done at the damn computer) end up here, the night of the performance of Haydn’s Creation at the Proms.

I didn’t fancy going myself – despite it being the second Proms gig in the season. And given the marvellous creation cooling on top of the cooker right now, I’m really rather pleased I didn’t go too.

After all. It was mighty fine on the radio.

Video: Perpetuum Jazzile

Recommended by a friend solely because of the opening sequence in which a choir mimicks a thunderstorm, I only watched this video clip this evening after he reminded me to do so.

His intention was that I concentrated on the rainstorm bit. What I hadn’t anticipated was the overwhelming feelings of euphoria I’d have when the main song kicked in. This is close harmony of the kind any serious amateur or professional choir yearns to sing all the time.

Brilliant. Utterly brilliant.

Proms 2009: Diary (10)

I can’t believe it’s the tenth Boo. Neither can I believe it’s just over a week before the beginning of the Proms. There’s much video editing to do before then. I’m seriously doubting I’ll get it all done before then.

There is however one very important video which has to be completed and delivered by Monday and it’s the one (fortunately) I’m working on at the moment.

Listen to the Boo here or click on the friendly and suitably stylish looking play button below.

Proms 2009: BBC Ukulele Orchestra

If you followed the busy weekend I’d had two weeks before the beginning of the Proms then you’ll be aware of the “homework” I’ve had to do editing together a video about the BBC’s recent gathering of a ’scratch’ orchestra.

As of this morning – having seen it published up on the BBC Proms website – I can confirm that my homework has been marked and clearly acquired a pass mark.

And here it is. For your viewing “pleasure”.

Proms 2009: Diary (7) & (8)

This AudioBoo is turning into a dangerous habit. It’s easy. It’s a nice thing. It’s fun. I’m loving it.

Thus, in the latest “thrilling” BBC Proms related AudioBoos, I’ve explained what I’ve been during this weekend: creating the latest video which I hope will appear on the Proms website. The first clip was recorded shortly before I got my mate Peter to look over the final edit. The second was recorded 24 hours later after the final tweaks.

I’m not entirely clear what the powers that be will say. Fingers crossed though. Fingers crossed.

Saturday 4 July 2009

Listen

Sunday 5 July 2009

Listen

Proms 2009: Shooting Children

I’m back from spending a day at my old school where I had the opportunity to dip my toe in what I had perceived to be the shark-infested waters of being a class music teacher.

Myself and cameraman @tommypearson took up our positions in a ground floor teaching room (one which was formerly partitioned into separate practise rooms in which I learnt to play the clarinet twenty years before) for two separate sessions with a class of 17 ten year olds during which I had the opportunity to share some music with them and gauge their responses to it. Their reactions surprised me and will be the subject of one of the Proms videos I’m working on for this year’s season.

Please forgive me if I don’t detail exactly what the outcome was. If I was to do that you’d l be even less likely to watch the finished piece. Quite apart from the inevitable and numerous surreal experiences to be had wandering around buildings and classrooms and lunch-halls I spent ten years in, my return to London from the sweltering hot environs of West Suffolk on an early summers day now appreciating just how demanding a profession teaching must be.

One teacher I caught up with in the staffroom after the shoot was quick to point out that the feelings of complete exhaustion were quite normal for those who had started out in the profession. Teachers become accustomed to it. With familiarity comes stamina.

Teaching is a performance. You are there in front of a small crowd of children needing to secure their attention for a fixed period of time. And that demands considerably more energy than I realised it did. Sure, your body might get accustomed to it, but still you’ve got to want to do that kind of work and I admire anyone who does. It’s tough but vital.

For those who may possibly feel an account of what my little jaunt to Suffolk for the BBC Proms website cost may possibly be interested in this breakdown of expenditure recorded the night before my day “down wiv da kids” today (watch the video below). It provided an opportunity to double check the equipment was working correctly and to provide an account of my experiences staying in a hotel for a night which I originally hoped would leave me feeling bright and breezy in the morning ahead of an experience I anticipated would be incredibly stressful.

Sadly, I left the hotel feeling neither bright nor breezy. I’d already moved rooms from the basement (yes, I had a view of a brick wall) and gasped at the customer service in the bar but banked on the idea that the morning would provide a different view.

Instead, the miserable breakfast hadn’t started my day at all well, nor the apparent 14 year old on the reception desk who clearly displayed both attitude and apathy in equal measure as well as considerable reluctance to investigate my genuine claims my hotel room was a corporate booking and therefore already paid for.

A heavy dose of sarcasm resulted in the issue of payment being resolved almost as quickly as his face blushed when he realised both his spectacular laziness and his error. Maybe I should have been more forgiving. Sarcasm is such a potentially unpleasant thing to dispense sometimes after all.

Or maybe the less than satisfactory hotel experience put me in an ideal mental state for tackling a big personal challenge today. Let’s wait until the edit before we answer that question.

Proms 2009: Duets & Ukes

The muffin making definitely paid off. I succeeded in distracting myself from the inevitable anxiety associated with the prospect of filming a series of piano duets with relative strangers for a BBC Proms website film.

I also had a suitable gift to present the sometimes perplexed looking contributors after they’d finished at the piano and shortly before they made a dash for the door. There’s footage which proves their surprise (or maybe it’s relief it was all over) not to mention the inevitable footage of me fluffing lines and all of us collapsing in laughter. It was definitely a special experience. 

The whole process (both last week’s shoot on Monday 1 June and the repeat shoot for the stragglers the following week) didn’t necessarily go all swimmingly. There was the thorny issue of some technical problems experienced during the all-too brief but oh-so exciting time we had Radio 4 announcer Charlotte Green in the studio. I was a thick sauce on the floor when she was around mostly because she is, quite frankly, an absolute star and someone who should be made a Dame immediately for her contribution to radio and specifically for her infectious laughter.

Sadly however, those technical problems (not discovered until the same evening when we went to look over the footage we had obtained during the day) proved insurmountable. Our hastily rearranged re-shoot for tomorrow now looks like it definitely won’t happen thanks to Mr Bob Crow and his tube strike. I’m sure he won’t feel the pang of guilt about it the same way I did when I first realised we hadn’t got any of Charlotte’s fabulous contribution on tape. 

At 10.10am on Monday 8 June (50 minutes before we were due to start shooting again with John Shea, Radio 4 announcer Zeb Soanes and Catherine from the Proms Office, there was a strong possibility that technical problems in the studio itself would result in us having to postpone the shoot. With bookings for studios having to be made weeks in advance, there was a real chance we’d miss our window to record the duets. Three people who’d come in especially would have to be turned away and I and the cameraman would have to lug the heavy equipment back into storage without having used it. 

As with all things (no – it’s not exciting – it’s really quite stressful) I received a call at the last minute to say all was well and yes we could use the studio after all. And thus by the end of the second shoot I could proudly (if a little wearily) confirm that I had played the secondo part to Faure’s Dolly Suite a total of 25 times. No surprises then to discover that Faure’s Dolly Suite is quite a way down my top fifty list of favourite tunes. I am, quite frankly, sick of it and I’ve yet to start editing the material together. It did however go a whole lot more successfully than I thought it might when I wrote the previous post. 

There are other things to concentrate on before that piano duet edit can begin however. The day after tomorrow sees me trekking back to my old school with a cameraman in tow to find out whether and (if so) how we inspire young people to take an interest in classical music. Do we train them up first and then expose them in a Tune A Day kind of way or do we throw caution to the wind and play anything and everything and which is taken to and which is discarded. And, more to the point, can I persuade them to like some music I’ve grown rather partial to in recent years? And, most pertinently of all, what do they make of Handel ? I am preparing myself for the worst.

And if that wasn’t enough, news that the BBC Proms website has launched their special Ukulele self-training online video wotnot for anyone who fancies taking a shot at taking part in a mass audience participation event linked to the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain Prom on Tuesday 18 August. And when that’s done the Proms will almost be upon us. Time is running away. Thank God I’ve got a train journey tomorrow to go over the brochure again and order my season ticket.

Proms 2009: A Chocolate Distraction

Signage, originally uploaded by Thoroughly Good.

Most people do ruin Sundays worrying about work on Monday. I have been known to ruin entire weekends from the moment I return home late from work on a Friday evening thinking about the pressures I’ll face in the office the folllowing.

I always discover that Mondays are nowhere near as bad as I feared. It’s not long before I fall back into the rhythm of the week and those cares are a distant memory.

I can’t see that happening this time around however. At least I don’t think so.

Tomorrow is a day off. I’ve deliberately taken a day’s leave from my normal duties at White City, to spend six hours in Broadcasting House doing something I’ve never done before with a handful of people I’ve never met before. I’m recording another video for the BBC Proms website which, I am told, should be published some time around the beginning of the Proms season in July.

Six weeks before then however there’s filming to be done. (In fact, if I’m being wholly transparent, then five weeks too – as we’re repeating tomorrow’s process a week later).

Midday tomorrow is basically the point of no return. That’s when four cameras will be set up, sound checked and angles double-checked. It’s around about then I’ll be recording something to camera about a piece of music written by Faure.

There is no script (I always run out of time to write a script and hope like hell I can remember the words on the day) and I have to film sequences with other people. We only have three and half hours in the studio and we have a very tight schedule.

Up until now I’ve done most video stuff on my own. It’s easier that way. I can go over things to my heart’s content. There’s no pressure of subsequent booking of resources threatening the apparent creative process. I am my own boss in those situations. I can take as long or as little time as I like.

But when you introduce other people into the equation like cameramen or interviewees or musicians then things start getting a bit worrisome. That’s when interview requests have to be submitted, arms need twisting and schedules drawn up (and in some case re-drawn up). Long before the actual day there’s equipment to source, microphones to test, colour balances to get right and rehearsals to go through.

Normally there are production teams for these kind of things, but there is a direct correlation between the amount of joy experienced and the number of people involved I find. So for this particular effort, there’s just me and a cameraman – a mate I’ve known for a few years now – who even though he doesn’t know it yet be doing quite a lot of checking of cameras and sound levels. Let’s hope he doesn’t phone in sick tomorrow, ey?

Both of us working on this particular project rehearsed the process about 10 days ago for this. I can tell you now, it didn’t go terribly well. In truth I was a little tired but there was more than a little daunting about the prospect of filming a short video in Studio 80a at Broadcasting House in London.

When I wasn’t thinking to myself “How exactly did I end up in here?” I was making a mental note that I really had to put my best paw forward for this one, anything less and I’d feel as dirty as I did when the UK came last again in the Eurovision last year.

There’s one other thing about tomorrow which I might as well lay bare here and now. I’ve never done anything like I’m doing tomorrow before. It is, for me at least, an unknown quantity. Theoretically it’s just getting a collection of people together at certain times and getting them to answer questions on camera. That’s all it is. Nothing more.

Yet the scale of it seems larger than I’ve ever done before. And that is a daunting thought. It’s the same with any project you have a vested interest in. You look at the deadline and think “How in God’s name are we going to reach that point?” You always do, of course, but the goal seems so very unattainable as to be laughably ridiculous.

Not only that, in the interests of constantly blogging about nearly everything in the vain hope that someone might find it interesting, I figure committing my thoughts on the matter before and (if I have the energy) at the end of the event too.

Naturally, I have done *some* planning. As much as I like things to be relaxed and spontaneous, I have quite appropriately typed up a shooting script, a task list and a schedule. All of this is being done with no costs incurred by anyone, but that’s no reason not to make sure everything is as well-organised as anyone charmingly conscientious individual aspires to be.

And that goes some way to explain why I’ve been cooking chocolate muffins this evening (cooking relaxes me I find). Well, that and finding a way to use up some of the nervous energy charging around my body. If the inevitable sense of smug self-satisfaction doesn’t prepare me well for tomorrow, then I’m in no doubt that a late afternoon of Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music on Sky HD should hit the spot.

Proms 2009: Pre-launch jitters

For those who are otherwise unaware, tomorrow is the launch day for this year’s BBC Proms season. Some of us have had it marked out on our calendars for quite a while. It’s a terribly exciting day.

Quite apart from the various appearances it’s head honcho Roger Wright will make (he’ll be on Radio 4’s Front Row with John Wilson on Wednesday 8 April), it’s also the day when the brochure is finally made available. I usually make a special visit to this WHSmith to purchase it.This year, I’ve had an opportunity to interview the big man about the forthcoming season. We met up last week during our lunch-hours.

I have it on good authority the result of that interview will be made public tomorrow, but in the meantime take a look at what might be described as a trail for the main feature.

And in case you’re in any doubt, I’m being sarcastic when I refer to the interview as ”the main feature”.

Postcard: Greenwich Park

Weekends should be extended by a day. They go far too quickly.

This particular Sunday was spent an afternoon in nearby Greenwich Park. It was fun, if a little nippy around the extremities.

Runners, cyclists, rollerbladers and teenagers playing football. Far too many individuals regarding Sunday as a fitness day. How very tiresome.

Someone else who hates Twitter

I always hesitate before posting a YouTube video (which isn’t my own – yes, really). I usually look at the statistics and figure that most people who may occasionally read this may well have already seen the clip.

If you haven’t, this is the kind of 45 second clip which leaves me breathless. It does exactly what was intended. Short, punchy, funny and takes me on a journey to discover more of the content which sits on the channel. It makes gadgetry even more accessible. It might even give Suzy Perry a run for her money at The Gadget Show.

Clearly, I have a lot to learn.

One big snowy day

Sadly, WordPress’ handy “here’s how to embed high quality YouTube video” doesn’t actually work. So be sure to click on the “HQ” button on the bottom right hand corner of the video player once you’ve kicked off watching the film.

Diary: Your Country Needs You #12

The morning after Jade won Eurovision: Your Country Needs You and took up the considerable mantle of representing the UK at this year’s Eurovision, I run over a few checks to make sure everything is in place.

Diary: Your Country Needs You #11

Your Country Needs You: Final – South East London Jury, originally uploaded by Thoroughly Good.

Gosh. It’s all over. What a relief. I was genuinely worried earlier this afternoon. I did rather think it might all go wrong.

Yes. That’s right. I’m quite pleased Jade won.

UPDATE: And in case you’re wondering, I did run some checks the following morning just to make sure I wasn’t inenebriated when I cast my telephone vote. I don’t think I was.

Diary: Your Country Needs You #10

Quite a horrific day preparing for what I fear could be a car crash of an evening. I do so hope I’m not disappointed when the final result is in and we learn exactly who will be singing the Andrew Lloyd-Webber/Diane Warren ditty “My Time”? Jade? Mark? The Twins?

Whilst the outcome is a little difficult to predict, there’s one thing I’m definitely looking forward to. In a couple of weeks time we’ll have our usually decent internet connection back and from then on the stuff I upload to t’interweb won’t look anywhere near as shitty as it does at present.

Diary: Your Country Needs You #8

No one can ever accuse me of not bowing to the pressure on the internet and meeting the needs of what little audience I have. At least, no one can accuse me of it now.

Above is a brief snippet (yes, don’t tell me you can’t spare 48 seconds to watch a brief video) inspired by repeated listens of the Your Country Needs You signature tune. It now rings around my head in the same way pungent aromas hang around farmyards.

For those who can spare a mere 5 minutes or so and have the basic level of interest necessary to pay attention whilst I drone on and on and on, you can watch the full version published ahead of Heat Three, below.

Diary: Your Country Needs You #5

Quite an odd night. Shortly after the beginning of YCNY, college pal Becky rings me. It’s always lovely when chat together and we haven’t done that for a long time.

“Is now a good time ?” she asked.

“No. Not really. It’s the first Eurovision thing. Your timing is appalling.”

“Oh. God. I’m sorry. How could I have known?”

“Well, you could have looked in the schedule.”

I did call the lovely Becky at 9.00pm. A fantastic chat which was mercifully minus any reference to Eurovision.

Normal life has resumed now that the first heat of Your Country Needs You is over and in case you didn’t watch or you don’t want to sit through the hour long programme on BBC iPlayer (actually – you might as well, it’s really rather good) then the important information you need to know is …

The two acts who were placed in the “Danger Zone” – ie the one which sees Andrew Lloyd Webber standing in between both acts looking all pensive and saying “this is really tough but I have to decide which one of you two to save” – were Damien and Charlotte.

The Great Lord saved Charlotte, surprisingly, which means we won’t be seeing Damien’s chiselled jaw on prime-time Saturday night TV (at least, not for the forseeable future). Shame. He did look smashing in a purple open-collar shirt and natty single-breasted suit, I thought.

Oh … and one jury in South East London arrived at their decision about who to vote for this evening using this very handy aide memoir.

Diary: Your Country Needs You #4

Following what appears to have been a rather successful first rehearsal for Your Country Needs You as reported by Michael Osborn, I have completed extensive preparations in advance of the first live show to select the artist to represent the UK at Eurovision 2009.

Review: 2008

When I draw back the curtains to reveal a dull grey south-east London on 1 January with the New Year’s Day concert live from the Musikverein in Vienna on in the background, it always feels like the start of something new, something exciting. I’ve got the opportunity for a new start. Everything from the previous year can, should and will be forgotten. At least that’s what I hope every 1 January.

In anticipation of that (and in a desperate bid to find something to write about two days before the end of 2008) I took myself off to our new hideaway and made a few notes. What were the things which I would remember 2008 for? Scribbling my answers down didn’t take long.

1. Jimmy Mizen
2. Eurovision
3. The BBC Proms

The list is both short and uncomfortable. The small handful of people who read this will, no doubt, note with interest the weird yet predictable juxtapositioning of a serious news event, alongside fundamentally inconsequential fluff and inevitable self-indulgence.

Truth is, I don’t have any other stuff on my list. Those three things really do sum-up 2008 for me.

Jimmy Mizen

Jimmy Mizen’s murder in May 2008 wasn’t the first teenage stabbing in east London this year. It was in fact the 13th.

There were 27 other teenage stabbings in East London this year. There have been plenty of others in previous years. Stabbings and murder and attacks were normally the stories which failed to grab my attention. So what makes 2008 so different from the rest?

Proximity was the most potent factor. Mizen died in Lee, an area in south-east London I often pass through on my way to the supermarket. Many people say it and a lot of us gloss over it, but it’s true when I say that 16 year old Mizen’s senseless death in the Lee bakery seemed all the more tragic because it was so painfully local. He worked there to get some extra cash. He was 16. The murder happened just a few miles away. That kind of thing isn’t meant to happen.  

Get a grip. This is London, after all. Surely a stabbing shouldn’t really be that incongruous against the backdrop of a supposedly violent capital?

Mizen’s mother delivered a clear message to all, something which I had forgotten about until I viewed the video clip on this page. Now I watch it again I’m struck by her strength. Her message is unusually inspiring. She isn’t angry (or if she is she’s avoiding it spectacularly) and doesn’t want others to be angry with the perpetrator’s parents. She even goes as far as to say “leave them alone”. That is admirable. There’s much to be drawn from the strength she displays only seven days after the death of her 16 year old son, a week after his birthday. She is to be applauded.

Eurovision collides

Around about this time, I was mid-way through a project at work which I’d always wanted to work on.

I’d followed the Eurovision for years. I’d even gone to Latvia to do a spot of naiive investigation during the 2003 contest. I rather like the Eurovision, you see. And I’d quite like us to win. 

As a result of finally getting a job at the Beeb in October of 2007 and (in precisely the right department) I shamelessly locked all of my self-promoting skills in gear and ended up working on the Eurovision website.

I wouldn’t want anyone to think it was plain sailing, or that everyone was necessarily as excited and relieved as I was to work on it. In retrospect, enthusiasm and passion isn’t necessarily something everyone applauds. One or two people hated me. There were one or two heated conversations/steaming arguments in corridors as a result of it. One fairly senior person accused me of being of a maverick as I stood in the corridor with a coffee in my hand. I was a little taken aback, to say the least. No-one has ever described me as a maverick before. Most deliver their assessment with an air of indifference.

I’d been working on the Eurovision site since late February. I delivered a smallish effort in early March (I did stamp my foot quite a few times) and following a series of false starts and one or two agonising nights failing to get to sleep, I ended up working on the main site during the run up to the main even in mid-May.

It was a hideous time.

A week before the Eurovision final (which happened to be the end of the Eurovision website project) I took myself off to Suffolk to see my parents. Work had become way too much for me to handle. I needed a break. I needed comfort food. I needed my teddy bear.

I was working harder than I’d worked in a long time (if ever there was a justification for the line “careful what you wish for” it was then) and it showed. My mother was quite worried about the colour of my skin. Now I come to look at the picture, I think she was right. 

I drove up to Suffolk to see my Mum on Saturday 17 May 2008. The journey started in south-east London. I headed towards Kidbrooke roundabout for the Blackwall tunnel. Lining the roads on the South Circular close to where I live in Hither Green, south-east London people walking solemnly in the same direction, all of them dressed in black.

Where were they going? They were heading towards Jimmy Mizen’s memorial service in nearby Lee High Road.

BBC Proms

The Eurovision came crashing to the ignominous end we’ve all grown accustomed to here in the UK around about 2am on Sunday 26 May 2008. It was then the website producer said “Yes, OK. We’ve got the finals scores up on the website. Everything’s done. We’re finished. Are you happy Jon?”

No. The answer was no. Not only had we come last but I’d had to code up a page which detailed exactly which country had come in which place. Typing the UK’s pitiful result last seemed like such a mean thing to have to do. Both of my friends who had accompanied me through the hell they knew it would be were now asleep on the sofa downstairs. The night was a right-off.

You’d think I’d have been happy to have finished something I’d always wanted to work on, wouldn’t you? You’ve done that Jon .. now sit back and feel proud.

The problem with me is that when I’ve been ridiculously busy for a couple of months, the resulting lack of something to do is the very worst thing for me. I start thinking when I don’t have enough to do and when I start thinking I start moaning. And when I start moaning everyone else around me starts thinking (and in some cases saying) “Would you be good enough to stop being so bloody morose about everything?”

It was Monday 27 May 2008 when I fired off an email to Radio 3 Interactive asking them if they were interested in some more Proms related videos.

With Eurovision 2008 a dim and distant memory, I was keen to look forward to the next big event and to see whether I might crowbar my way into that too. The response was favourable and despite one or two scary moments warranting enormous amounts of wine, charm and reassurances on my part, all turned out well. Everything turned out very well. In fact, it wouldn’t be too much of an exaggeration to say that it turned out to be the best summer ever.

You need to be aware of the people who made it the best summer ever – or at least those people who were involved need to know I’m thinking of them – them lovely people being Andi, David, Ashley, Dean, James, Roland, Roger, Simon and, of course, myself. It’s a team effort this.

Far from a hard-hitting news review, is it? It’s not meant to be. These are the things which, as 2008 draws to a close, are flagged up as the most important. I only hope that when 2009 draws to a close any review I might choose to do will see me feature considerably less, if not at all.

Happy New Year.

Oh, and in case you’re interested, the UK’s 2009 hunt for someone game and able to represent us in the forthcoming Eurovision Song Contest in Moscow – Eurovision: Your Country Needs You – starts on Saturday 3 January (yes really, that soon). Or at least the first installment is the sort of “this is what we’ve done so far” programme before the main event begins the following week.

#iPlayerDay: Birthday Wishes

It’s been an exciting day for me today and for the BBC iPlayer which celebrates it’s first birthday today. Watch this short and sweet little video presentation to find out a little more.

Burger King’s Whopper Virgins

For the full video feature go to www.whoppervirgins.com

For a few days now I have been preoccupied with Burger King’s latest, seemingly controversial advertising campaign. Let me explain.

A tweet update takes me off to www.whoppervirgins.com and before I realise I’ve been taken off guard. My attention is drawn to the quality of the video I’m watching on the screen. Somehow, I’m seeing a high quality image without the usual pixellation I experience with an image of this size.

The player is set in a tasty black background. It communicates something. It communicates something serious, something slightly off the wall and yet considered at the same time.

When my eyes rest on the Burger King logo in the bottom left hand corner of the screen I find myself conflicted. This is a fast-food outlet and yet the sight of the page communicates something different.

Then there’s the video content itself. There’s a simple idea being communicated with an original notion being tested. Are the most accurate taste-testers those who’ve never tasted a burger before and, where exactly do we find those people?

In case you’re wondering, I hadn’t read over any other blog comments about Burger King’s latest campaign, so I came to this fresh.

The idea of the film seemed like a good one. There was something engaging about the idea of taking as much portable cooking equipment to far flung corners of the world and cooking up a burger for someone who’s never seen one before.

The way the video was shot communicated with me. This was proper video on the web. It was nearly eight minutes too and I was watching all the way to the end. This was breaking the three minute rule I’ve heard so much about recently.

Yes, the idea did slowly creep into my head about whether or not it was right. Was there an unpleasant after taste here? (Please forgive the pun.) I wasn’t necessarily seeing the poverty that some people say was obvious to all, instead I saw happy people dressed in their traditional garb. Even so, should we really be introducing something alien into a culture just for the sake of advertising?

That was a personal reaction based on very little researched information about Burger King or it’s rivals come to that. Free of the comments posted in response to the video I engaged with it afresh – not unlike the people who tasted their first burger really. The truth is, I didn’t get to the end of it and feel certain those contributors had been exploited. Everyone seemed reasonably happy (although admittedly, we didn’t necessarily get to see any footage of people really unhappy).

What spoke to me more was the initial idea and the way it was executed. I found myself engaged when I watched and whether it’s right or wrong, I found myself convinced that I would probably go for a Whopper rather than a Big Mac in future. And I found myself wanting a blog posting about it. Surely the digital agency behind it Crispin Porter + Bogusky  ticked all the boxes they needed to?

But if you’re reading this and thinking that I’m just another gullible so-and-so taken in by Crispin Porter + Bogusky, you’re missing one fundamental point.

I might think I like the idea of a Whopper burger more than a Big Mac but Burger King, like their rivals, is going to have to go a long long way before I feel comfortable buying one. Give me the choice between a restaurant or a fast food outlet and the sight of the latter is sure to persuade me to get me a table and sit down and take an hour to eat.

I just don’t enjoy the fast-food burger purchasing experience. It’s loud, it’s bright and invariably the places stink of chip fat and bleach. The floor is usually sticky underfoot and if I’ve braved the counter and ordered one the prospect of eating a burger inside fills me with fear and dread. Seeing as I object to people eating their burger on the tube, I realise the only place I can eat mine is on the street. And there ain’t any way I’m going to do that.

Burger King, KFC and MacDonalds have some way to go yet.

Free Thinking Festival: 24 Weeks / Marchant

I spoke to writer Tony Marchant, director Kate Rowland and cast a few hours before Saturday’s performance and recording  of specially commissioned Radio 3 Free Thinking Drama, 24 Weeks. Watch video interview here.

Listen to the drama on the BBC iPlayer here from 1 hour 17 minutes and 30 seconds in. 

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One of the lasting memories of this year’s Free Thinking Festival for me at least will undoubtedly be the time I spent in the company of the production team for Radio 3’s Free Thinking drama “24 Weeks”.

Written by Tony Marchant – his first radio drama – the play tackles the issues surrounding abortion and specifically the 24 week debate. The gritty subject material certainly fits in with Radio 3’s committment to challenging drama but interestingly, this production was to be recorded in front of an audience. What would be the impact of this on the actors and the resulting recording?

The opportunity to sit in on some of the rehearsals proved interesting. I was especially taken by the speed at which the production was put together. The video interviews with Marchant, director Kate Rowland and the cast reveal the almost 36 hour turn around and how the actors were experiencing their first radio drama recording in front of an audience. 

Most striking was the quality of the performances I saw in rehearsal. The play is essentially a two-hander between a married couple – Sarah and Robert. There are various points where raw emotion between the couple powers through as they confront their feelings about Sarah’s pregnancy. 

It was these scenes which prompted an entirely unexpected emotional response in me. Seeing an actor cry on stage in the way that Sean Gallagher (Robert) did during rehearsals resulted in one reaction for me: I cried too. 

The fact that I continued snivelling when the actors finished rehearsing said much for their obvious ability at grappling with the parts. All this after only a day of familiarising themselves with the script.

I did wonder whether my appreciation for the production was skewed because I had access to the production team and cast. It was only when I heard the entire performance back on the radio a night later that I realised my view wasn’t biassed. 

“24 Weeks” was gripping drama and earth-shatteringly executed by it’s stellar cast. OK, so I’m biassed a bit. But I did hear it and I cried that time too.

Happy Birthday Blue Peter

It’s the 50th anniversary of the BBC’s children’s “magazine” programme Blue Peter today. Unlike a lot of contemporaries I wasn’t a fan of rival Magpie, instead warming to the charms of Lesley Judd and latterly Janet Ellis.

However, observing all the online references to this most British of British institutions I couldn’t help but reach for my video camera to file this very special report.

Aside from my obvious bitterness at not having realised my dream of being a Blue Peter presenter myself, I was quite excited to see this on BBC iPlayer, including some present day footage of Lesley Judd who I haven’t seen on TV for twenty odd years.

Rory Cellan-Jones on Mark Zuckerberg

Lovely Rory Cellan-Jones posts a video interview he conducted with Facebook Maestro Mark Zuckerberg on the BBC dot.life blog. I wouldn’t normally pour over Mr Cellan-Jones’ blog but seeing as the BBC Internet Blog people are linking to me I figured it would be the Thoroughly Good thing to do to to consume a few more BBC Blogs.

Actually, I wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m some kind of fawning individual. After all, I work at the BBC. Constantly banging on about the Corporation in every other blog posting might seem like I’m selling out. It doesn’t need me to blog about it. And, quite apart from anything else, I’m paid to do something entirely different anyway.

I am digressing. It’s a terrible, shameful habit.

There is, in fact, a far more important reason why I’m reading Mr Cellan-Jones’ blog. It’s because of something my 70+ mother said of the technology programme Click Online on the BBC News channel.

“Oh yes,” she said excitedly on the phone to me this morning as I tried to explain in layman’s terms about internet blogs and why I was updating mine on holiday, ”I know all about blogs, my dear. I watch that Click programme.”

I was a little surprised, I have to confess. My mother – a former newsagent and pillar of the local community – has never logged on to the internet for anything, ever. How would she know about blogs if she doesn’t use the internet?

My sense of surprise was quickly replaced by pride before the inevitable and now familiar feelings of bitterness and resentment poured over me like a thick sauce.

“You know the presenter of Click?” I asked her, keen not to sound as though I was flagging up a crass moment, ”His name’s Spencer, isn’t it?” 

“Yes, that’s right” replied my mother, ”he’s called Spencer.”

“I often see him on the tube on my way into work, you know.” I said with a certain amount of low-key pride.

“You don’t like him, do you?” asked my mother.

So, given that my mother watches Click on BBC News and understands about blogging, I figure the least I can do is consume Mr Cellan-Jones’ latest blog about Mark Zuckerberg.

Zuckerberg is someone I assume I wouldn’t like. He is, after all, the bain of my relatively limited technical project management life. I know only from personal experience the sinking feeling which results when people suddenly leap on the “Let’s have a Facebook application” bandwagon. “If we build it, they will come.”

And yet as a user (and a heavy one at that, I freely admit) I find myself intensely irritated by the spamming and the monitoring and the targeted advertising (if you look at my profile you’ll see I’m married and thus won’t be interested in dating gay men from San Francisco dressed only in a rubber thong). No, I don’t want to compare my friends. No I don’t want to comment on which one of my male friends is hot or not. There’s a simple reason for this. My husband is one of my friends. Why would I want him to have proof that I’m window shopping? How is that going to help my social networking?

Obviously, Zuckerberg isn’t ultimately responsible for the different creative ways various developers have exploited the Facebook platform. Zuckerberg isn’t entirely at fault. The genius which emerges from the Zuckerberg-Facebook story is that the skeleton has been laid out for others to graft on to. He’s established a global brand and, like all well-known global brands, maybe it’s best he doesn’t always think about the profits.

In fact, when I stop to consider the other potential causes for my irritation with him – the fact that he’s a billionaire (on paper, at least), if not business minded then certainly now media-savvy and the fact he’s only 24 years old – I still find myself unable to sustain the bile I would normally have about people like him.

Somewhere in the middle of the 3′28″, Zuckerberg shows himself as a nice guy. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that he shows himself as the geek we all of us reckon he must have been if we believe the Facebook development story.

Facebook and (by extension Zuckerberg) is both a wonderful thing and a dark thing. The one thing you can’t dispense with even though you’d like to sometimes.

Of course, I could be wrong. I could be playing into the hands of the media-savvy people who prepared him (if indeed they did) before his interview with Uncle Rory. I have to keep an open mind. I have to remain reasonably impartial.

Maybe Mr Zuckerberg should do a few more interviews, just so I can be sure.