STEPHEN WADE, Head of Outside Broadcasts,
took his camera to Moscow for us.

Here is his report in pictures.

The post Our men (and girls) in Moscow appeared first on THIS IS ATV NETWORK from Transdiffusion.

Russian viewers to see our O.B.

YURI FOKIN, Russia’s top television commentator, will face an ATV camera next month to introduce the first live outside ITV broadcast from Britain to the Soviet Union.

An ATV outside broadcast unit will be covering the Soviet State Fair at Earls Court, which will open on July 7.

The Russians are sending their own TV producer to direct the unit and the whole operation is part of our reciprocal deal with the Soviet State Committee for Radio and Television.

The first part of the exchange took place last month when British viewers saw our coverage of the British Trade Fair in Moscow.

The Moscow relay was introduced by Mr Norman Collins, Deputy Chairman, from the Foley Street studio.

Originally, the introduction was planned to last four minutes but half way through — since Moscow wasn’t ready — a chalked “Keep Going” notice was put in front of the camera. And Mr Collins kept going — for eight and a half minutes.

Then came the dramatic moment for James Ferman, who directed the relay, to say “Cue Moscow” … and ATV’s first live link with the Soviet capital was on the air.

Our 90 minutes relay also made TV history through the enterprise of ATV commentator Shaw Taylor. Shaw pushed his way through the crowd with a microphone to obtain a TV scoop by interviewing Mr Kruschev.

This was the first time any TV commentator had secured an off-the-cuff comment from the Russian Premier.

The ATV team in Moscow were Bill Ward, Productions Controller; his P.A. Pam Matthews; Len Mathews, Assistant Technical Controller, Communications and Outside Broadcasts; Stephen Wade, Head of Outside Broadcasts; his P.A. Doreen Ayres; floor manager, Bill Glaze and commentators, Shaw Taylor and Reginald Bosanquet of ITN.

ATV’s Russian programmes included a ballet performance direct from the famous Bolshoi Theatre directed by Bill Ward.

Our mobile recording unit, with recording engineer, John Harrison and rigger driver, Cyril Penfold, were also in action recording documentary material for future programmes.

One of these projects has been provisionally entitled “Gorki-street, U.S.S.R.” and will be a Russian equivalent to “Main-street, U.S.A.” in which we depicted the lives of typical American families.

ELSTREE VISIT

The details of the programme we are sending to Russia next month were arranged during a visit to the Elstree Studio Centre and ATV House by a team of Russian television experts.

This was the first time a Russian television delegation had visited any ITV studios.

Heading the delegation was Mr Konstantin Kuzakov, Deputy Chairman of the Soviet State Committee for Radio and Television.

His colleagues were Mr Yuri Fokin, Head of Russian Television News and Mr S. J. Martsenitsen [sic: usually transliterated as S. I. Martsenitsen – Ed], Deputy Head of the Main Department of the Soviet Ministry of Communications.

COMPLETE TOUR

They made a complete tour of the Elstree Studio Centre accompanied by Bill Ward, Stephen Wade, Len Mathews and Technical Controller, Terence Macnamara.

The Russians were particularly interested in the control rooms of Studios C and D and the advanced technical equipment designed by ATV’s own engineering staff.

In the evening the Russians were entertained at a party at ATV House by Mr Norman Collins, Deputy Chairman; Mr Val Parnell, Managing Director; Mr Lew Grade, Deputy Managing Director and Lord Bessborough, Director.

Mr Kuzakov said they would like to prepare a documentary programme on Lenin’s life in London and some kind of musical programme.

His immediate concern, however, was the coverage of the Soviet State Fair next month.

The post Moscow here we come appeared first on THIS IS ATV NETWORK from Transdiffusion.

from the ATV Television Show Book 1963

If the critics didn’t welcome the change with unreserved rapture and if some faithful fans grumbled unnecessarily at the passing of a hero, there is no denying that it took courage and a sense of adventure for Tony Hancock to try something new, to experiment, in the series which he made for ATV this spring.

Tony went back to his early, radio days for the all-important material on which he was to build the new, highly civilised, middle-class Hancock — with its capital “H”. Godfrey Harrison had written the scripts on which the Hancock reputation was firmly founded. So, as Tony looked around for a new image, what better than to go right back to the source of his first inspiration and once again team up with the man who had committed the right words and lines to paper, knowing that the Hancock talent for putting them across would ensure the true marriage of thought and presentation.

No more the faded city gent’s outfit. Put away were the rollneck sweater, tight-fitting trousers and the medal on a thin artificial-gold chain. Bring out, instead, the badges of respectability: the sheepskin jacket, the Robin Hood style hat. Thus attired, Tony Hancock ventured into his new series. And with a new series came a new setting for the inquisitive, audacious Hancock.

Focal point of all his adventures was the doorway of the local bank, a humdrum, unexciting place in itself; but with Hancock around anything could happen — and it usually did.

It was from here, for instance, that “The Lad” became ensnared in a drama which had him rubbing shoulders with the anonymous Big Brass of M.I.5, who, glad of any excuse to see this inveterate nosey-parker out of their way, invented codes, passwords, identification signs and secret messages which had Tony completely confused as he found himself caught up with a Government department kitchen staff, a queue waiting for a bus and the inevitable “overseas agent”.

No amount of red herrings or contrived clues could put Hancock off once the smell of middle-class responsibility was wafting around his nostrils. He just had to succeed; see through to the bitter end the task which he felt he must carry out — invariably ending in disaster and humiliation. For such is the character of Hancock on the screen, and no matter the elevation in his social standing he is still doomed to failure and ridicule — and to our sympathy in the process.

Who, for instance, can forget his attempts to bring to a “This is Your Life”-style story his own individualistic contribution? Hancock had to make his entry to the programme in the grand style — and even if he had nothing really worthwhile to say he was not to be denied the opportunity to make an impression. This he did — to the embarrassment of the subject of the programme and to ATV question-master Shaw Taylor, who played the compere in the programme.

Hancock, the civic-minded citizen, bungled the job of helping the police when the local bank — yes, that very same one where he seemed to spend so much time annoying and lording it over the bearded newspaper vendor who had made his pitch the entrance to the bank — was robbed. Ever hogging the limelight, ever bigger than life, once again Hancock was in trouble, this time with the police, as well as the robber who had done the job.

Big-headed, pompous, naive… Hancock has been called them all. And he earned such descriptions when he got himself involved in helping a casual friend impress his wife with his ability as a “do-it-vourself” exponent; when he took on the job of a professional “escort” to visiting women who wanted a night on the town; when he fell for the smooth talk of an experimental film producer who saw in our Tony the answer to his dreams of a new face for his new-wave movie — with Tony definitely on the receiving end of anything but bouquets from the film critics. His reward was face-slapping, insults from a conscientious house-owner and torment at the hands of a young starlet and a very experienced film actress.

Hancock aping his betters is always an intriguing sight. With the inevitable props of dressing-gown, cigarette-holder and silk kerchief, here was vintage Hancock as he assumed the role of author and comedy script writer. But always the results were the same: disaster, disappointment and a sense of disenchantment.

But only for the moment. For such is the stuff of which Hancock is made that in his mirroring of life he is like a rubber ball: down one moment, up the next, always ready for the next adventure, ever prepared to stick his nose in business which is not his own — invariably with disastrous results. And for those very same reasons he has become a character, a special friend and accomplice — even a national institution.

But behind the facade of buffoon and busybody lies the professional approach of the perfectionist. Too much rehearsal, too much interpretation of the slightest act or situation, is no problem to Tony Hancock. Alan Tarrant, who produced Tony in his programmes for ATV, tells of many hours spent after the official time for rehearsal had ended while Hancock dissected some minute aspect of the plot or action. Time, which saw the night before pass into the early hours of the next morning, went by unnoticed — and rehearsal hour was drawing nearer and nearer. Overflowing ashtrays told of hours of concentration spent in deciding how a particular scene should be played, how a look or word should be used to provide the best effect… and when rehearsal was called, seemingly only minutes later in a rehearsal room at ATV’s Elstree Studio Centre, who was the freshest, most enthusiastic member of the cast on call? Why, Hancock, of course.

“The man thrives on hard work”, says Tarrant. He also confirms the belief held widely in show-business circles that Tony Hancock insists on having “professionals” around him — to work with him and with whom he can work. Hancock saw such an assembly of “pro’s”, for in the programmes which came to ITV screens regularly at 8.30 each Thursday evening for three months such established artistes as Dennis Price, John le Mesurier, Maggie Fitzgibbon, Harry Towb, Edwin Richfield, Diane Clair, Hazel Hughes, Brian Wilde, Thomas Heathcote, Edward
Chapman, Wilfrid Lawson, Judith Stott, Denholm Elliott, Peter Vaughan, Kenneth Griffith, Mario Fabrizi, were on hand to lend their professionalism and know-how to the situations and predicaments in which Tony found himself.

But always the impact was that left by Hancock himself—and who would have it otherwise? For his is an impact of individuality, which reflects the “little man” in all the millions who watched his on-screen activities — unsuccessful and slapped-down though they may have been — and which attracted our affection and recognition: for here, surely, is a kindred spirit.

Hancock is unique.

The post Hancock appeared first on THIS IS ATV NETWORK from Transdiffusion.

from the ATV Television Show Book for 1962

For over a year now, the ex-actor who has also invaded the sacred precincts of the world of the disc-jockey, has been glibly spouting the correct replies to the brain-teasing questions which form the main basis on which his popular programme relies for its attraction to the viewing public. Like the questions, the answers are supplied by a number of the staff of Encyclopaedia Britannica. But to hear them roll off the smooth tongue of the bespectacled quiz-master one would think that here, in fact, was the oracle… the fount of all knowledge!

Shaw Taylor is the first to admit that from his Tuesday evening programmes he has amassed a great store of information about which he was previously unaware. He is also honest in admitting that, without the written answers, he would — like so many of his viewers — be at a loss for the correct replies to the questions which he, and his attractive co-compere, Australian Lisa Finlayson, pose for those at home who are watching.

Sticking out a determined chin, nestling beneath a perpetual, good-natured grin, he has gone on record as saying that he doubts if there is anyone in Britain who, if he or she has watched every Pencil and Paper programme, could claim to have got every question right. ‘That is half the fun’, says the 37-year-old Shaw. ‘The other half is leaving the viewers with the hangover question. They get the answer the following week. But what happens during the week…?’

He visualises viewers phoning up their friends, checking on books of reference, or covering acres of paper with calculations when the problem is mathematical, or of the kind which psychologists love to indulge in.

From the manner and the accuracy in which they answer Shaw and Lisa’s questions viewers can gain some idea of their I.Q. — that modern means (the initials stand for ‘intelligence quotient’) through which, nowadays, so many jobs are filled, so many places in schools and colleges allocated.

An I.Q. of 125 is outstanding — and exceptional. Napoleon is credited with having had 125. So had Nelson. Shaw Taylor admits to 100 — ‘just above average’.

The mail which he — and the programme — attracts reflects a tremendous interest among the viewers to show that this way of assessing ‘what they’ve got upstairs’ is something which intrigues them and which, in its own way, must be regarded as something of a challenge.

There have been weeks when mailbags arriving at ATV’s London headquarters following a Pencil and Paper programme have contained letters and post cards amounting to almost a quarter of a million. Many of these are answers to the hang-over question. Others are from interested viewers who want to discuss some question — or answer — with Shaw. Not a few are from proud parents who want to tell of the success of a son or a daughter answering questions.

As with all letters received by television personalities, Shaw Taylor’s mail swings from the irate viewers — complaining that when the slightest thing goes wrong with a programme it is Shaw Taylor’s fault — to the pleasant letters of admiration. And, of course, there are the inevitable marriage proposals — an intriguing feature this, for all who become familiar to the country’s millions of television viewers, thanks to the feeling of proximity and intimacy which a television set in the living-room brings.

The letters of praise — even those suggesting marriage — might have been even more numerous had Shaw Taylor fully realised the ambition which attended his first decision to ‘go into show business’; he wanted to be a very successful actor, with a leaning to comedy roles.

In his reflective moments, enjoying the small cigars which he smokes through a large holder, he will tell of his love for the theatre, which goes back to a very early age.

He was born in the North London suburb of Hackney and every Monday evening after school he would go round to the local Hackney Empire, spend his pocket money on a seat in the ‘gods’ and eagerly wait for the curtain to go up on the weekly variety show.

But there was to be no easy way into the ‘profession’ for him. When he left school at the age of 15 he went into an office job. It was his wartime service with the R.A.F. which kindled the ‘show business’ ambition. He was serving in Burma as a radar operator. Live entertainment was scant, almost to the point of being non-existent. A group of airmen decided to band together to entertain the other servicemen stationed in that part of the world. Their efforts were fairly successful, and when they returned to Britain the group vowed that when they were demobbed they would meet again to start a repertory acting company. Then they went their various ways.

Back in London, Shaw Taylor found someone else in his office job. Remembering his Burma days, he applied for — and got — an L.C.C. grant to train at a dramatic school. He admits that one of his reasons for taking dramatic training was to lose his Cockney accent. He also recalls that when he went for his first audition for a stage part after leaving the school the first question put to him was: ‘Can you do a Cockney accent?’

Plays in London’s West End and with various repertory companies throughout Britain; film work — even working for an ice show (mostly on the Ivor Novello themes) followed as he ran the full gamut of show business experience. Though he is quick to explain that he didn’t do any skating. He dubbed the voices of the skaters as they ‘spoke’ Novello’s lines.

But hard though repertory acting and touring work may be, he is honest in admitting that his toughest job has been that of a television announcer. It was in this way that Shaw Taylor first became associated with ATV. For many months on end he was the ATV announcer seen most weekends by viewers in the London area.

Then came the opportunity to take over the chairman’s role in one of ATV’s best known quiz shows, Tell the Truth. Another quiz game, This Is Your Chance, was to follow and Shaw Taylor was again the chairman, as he had also been for some time in the programme Dotto. When Pencil and Paper first appeared it seemed quite natural that he should be the chairman. He appears to have found his niche.

But he has never allowed himself to become stereotyped, even in this rewarding kind of work. He has been heard as the commentator at some of the biggest outside broadcasts covered by ATV. This work has often taken him far afield — even to Russia, where he obtained what was probably the first ‘live’ interview with the Russian leader Mr. Khruschev, when he visited the British Trade Fair in Moscow on its opening day.

If the flames of ambition to be an actor have been dampened down slightly during the past few years, Shaw Taylor hasn’t turned his back entirely on his feelings for the stage. Now this takes the form of writing for it. He would dearly love to write a stage play. But this takes time and long, unbroken spells of concentration. In the busy life he leads today both of these are commodities in short supply. And in this very full life the weekly commuting which he undertakes between London and Birmingham, from where Pencil and Paper is broadcast, is only one of his regular commitments.

There is his radio disc show to compere. His books to be read (his taste is mostly for historical subjects). His cream-coloured sports coupe to be driven and kept trim. His sailing to be pursued with the same zest that he applies to most things in his life.

Not much time left. As he himself would so aptly comment, speaking with that infectious chuckle in his voice: ‘It’s all go — but I love it.’

That’s Taylor to a tee.

The post Shaw Taylor appeared first on THIS IS ATV NETWORK from Transdiffusion.

1963

1964

1969

The post They keep you in the picture appeared first on THIS IS ATV NETWORK from Transdiffusion.

“Look Around”, the magazine programme which devotes its half-hour to detailed examination and discussion of Midland enterprises, has won a big following.

When it screened a feature on the Midland Jazz Festival, The Hon. Gerald Lascelles, younger son of the Princess Royal, took part in lively exchanges on trends in the world of jazz. The Hon. Gerald Lascelles—pianist— demonstrated some of his points in a rehearsal session with producer John Pullen.

Police Five

This weekly programme was designed to help the Midland Police Forces in their fight against crime as well as offering a service to the public by giving information such as traffic detours, new parking regulations and missing persons. Shaw Taylor is the spokesman.

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