McDonald Hobley and Co

[Viewmaster]

Just came across this video. MH, and other TV announcers etc.

https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q...4&&FORM=VRDGAR

[Andrew2]

Smashing!

[AidanLunn]

It's worth subscribing to Transdiffusion on YouTube (and following on Facebook if you have it) as they post loads of old TV presentation from the 1950s to the 1980s, much of the earlier stuff in audio-only form.

[Panrock]

I found this some time ago... can't remember where. Enjoy!


A TELEVISION ANNOUNCER'S DAY
by D. McDonald Hobley

In a railway carriage, not long ago, a pleasant-looking lady in her middle forties asked, very politely, whether I was the television announcer whom she saw from time to time on her set at home? When I said yes, I expected to be asked questions about every phase of television, including the technical. To my relief all she asked for was a description of an announcer's day at Ally Pally. This, at least, was familiar ground, and I was glad to oblige. And this is what I told her.

My time of arrival at the studios depends on how much I am contributing to the different items in the programme, and the time it is due to begin. Whatever time I turn up, my first visit is to the oflice of the Production Manager, under whom I work. On duty each day with the announcer is a very helpful individual called the 'Presentation Assistant', and having reported to the Production Manager I immediately seek him out and together we go through the various announcements for the afternoon transmission. A word altered here, a phrase changed there, makes all the difference when you reflect that most announcements have to be committed to memory. Nothing pleases me more than an announcement headed 'Sound only', a self-explanatory term obviating this irksome necessity.

Having satisfied myself that the announcements are something that I can get my tongue round I go in search of the producer responsible for the item in which, perhaps, there are at least seven people with impossible names. A friendly word of advice from him ensures that neither the actors nor their agents take offence. Pronunciations of place-names can be checked with those very helpful individuals in the 'Pronunciation Department'. Armed with my script, or 'running order', as we call it, I now make my way to Dressing Room No.7, once labelled 'Only Announcers'-but now amended to read 'Announcers' ! Here for the next three-quarters-of-an-hour I endeavour to wear a very thin strip of green carpet to shreds by pacing up and down it, in my effort to memorize the opening announcement. Then downstairs to our canteen. Sometimes, and usually in the middle of lunch, the loudspeaker system booms out a request for me to report at once to the 'Presentation Assistant', who politely informs me that, due to circumstances beyond his immediate control, the opening announcement has had to be rewritten. This doesn't happen often - but it has - and can !

After lunch, there is the important performance of applying one’s make-up. Since announcers appear in front of the cameras more often than most people, they are permitted to do it themselves. I am told that in the early days of television - and by early days I refer to the 1930's - make-up consisted of various shades of blue and yellow, but today all that has changed, and our normal make-up resembles that used by most actors and film artists. With a reasonably good grasp of the first announcement, and a distinctly sunburnt appearance, I now make my way to the studio for what I shall always regard as the most unpleasant part of the day's work - namely a lighting session. Perhaps I had better explain more fully. The announcer is always the first person to appear on the screen, and it is essential that the picture should be as nearly perfect as possible. For twenty minutes before each transmission I stand in my allotted position while the lighting engineers bear down on me with every type of arc lamp that they can find. Finally, with perspiration seeping from my brow, but knowing that it has all been done with best intentions, I step out of the blaze of light and await my cue to stand in once more and launch the programme on its way.

Now it's two minutes to three, and with a last glance at my script I step in front of the camera again. Although I have been doing this same thing for more than two years now, that 'first night' feeling never leaves me. I've yet to meet the person who can truthfully say that the camera bears no terrors for him.

Directing the artists on the floor is the 'Studio Manager', and on a signal from him, which I can see out of the corner of my eye I know I am 'on the air'. With the words: 'This is the BBC Television Service' I begin my introduction to the first item, but it is soon over, and, breathing a sigh of relief I step out of he lights once more. The number of announcements will, of course, depend the type of programme. For example, if it is a play, you may have only an opening and closing announcement, but a series of small items may mean having to memorize a further six or seven. However many there may be, I never memorize more than one at a time, managing somehow to learn each new announcement during the preceding item.

For the evening transmission preparations begin soon after tea, but sometimes I may be asked to attend the auditions of would-be lady announcers, in which case my normal role is reversed and I become the 'interviewee'. I might be roped in for a rehearsal of some future programme, or, again, I may use this time to go through the scripts for 'Kaleidoscope' - the magazine programme which I compere every other Friday. Compering, interviewing, commentating, and even conducting 'quiz' programmes all come under the heading of announcers' duties. In a word, this means that until the Television Service has its own large staff of resident commentators, the announcers stand a reasonably good chance of getting ring-side seats at most of the great national events, sporting and otherwise. No one can say that the life is a dull one! Once I found myself in front of a television camera with a twelve-foot python wrapped round my neck (I had been interviewing a keeper from the Zoo) and another time I had to enter the ring with a professional wrestler and spend a considerable time flying through the air with the greatest of ease.

After my evening meal, at about eight o'clock, the lighting process begins all over again. At eight-thirty I introduce the evening programme and at any time between ten and ten-thirty I tell viewers about next day's plans and bid them all a very good night. Soon afterwards, with my make-up removed, my dinner jacket hanging in the wardrobe, you'll find me in the BBC bus on the first stage of my journey home.

As I completed my story, the train pulled in at Baker Street. I stood up, opened the carriage door, and waited for my friend, the lady viewer, to step out on the platform, but she didn't move. She was fast asleep!

[peter_scott]

Very good!

Peter