Last
Saturday evening we attended a recording in the BBC Radio Theatre at
Broadcasting House. The show we ‘saw’
was Radio 4’s Museum of Curiosities in which three panellists ‘donate’ something
which is important to them to this ‘virtual’ museum of the airways. It was a fascinating night with lots of
banter on stage with a recording that took 1 hour 45 mins – even though the
programme is just 30 mins long – so a lot of the chat will end up on the
cutting room floor!
Jo Band was participating and she was great fun – but the shining star of the evening was, for me, Sir Tony Robinson – otherwise known as the man with a ‘cunning plan’, Baldrick of the Black Adder programmes.
He was funny, quick witted, brilliant with words and had a presence that simply dominated the stage.
His ‘donation’ to the Museum of Curiosities was that final programme from ‘Black Adder Goes Forth’ – the episode that had Private Baldrick, Captains Darling and Blackadder going over the trenches of Flanders in WW1. What was so moving was hearing from John Lloyd – that evening’s show host but, by coincidence, the onetime Producer of Blackadder – the story behind this sequence.
It was filmed in the days when the lighting crew had to be off set by 10pm. The scenery was badly prepared and at times looked like the polystyrene it was. That ‘over the top’ shoot was filmed at three minutes to ten and looked shambolic.
Well, what happened next transformed a piece of badly rehearsed and staged film into one of the iconic moments of 20th Century T.V.
Jo Band was participating and she was great fun – but the shining star of the evening was, for me, Sir Tony Robinson – otherwise known as the man with a ‘cunning plan’, Baldrick of the Black Adder programmes.
He was funny, quick witted, brilliant with words and had a presence that simply dominated the stage.
His ‘donation’ to the Museum of Curiosities was that final programme from ‘Black Adder Goes Forth’ – the episode that had Private Baldrick, Captains Darling and Blackadder going over the trenches of Flanders in WW1. What was so moving was hearing from John Lloyd – that evening’s show host but, by coincidence, the onetime Producer of Blackadder – the story behind this sequence.
It was filmed in the days when the lighting crew had to be off set by 10pm. The scenery was badly prepared and at times looked like the polystyrene it was. That ‘over the top’ shoot was filmed at three minutes to ten and looked shambolic.
Well, what happened next transformed a piece of badly rehearsed and staged film into one of the iconic moments of 20th Century T.V.
In the cutting
room John Lloyd and his colleagues tweaked the footage by turning it into black
and white, slowing it down, overlaying music, freeze framing the soldiers just
before they fell and then turning the mud of the battlefield into a field of
red poppies. If you have ever seen this
piece of T.V. perhaps, like me, your response has been a profound, silent
appreciation.
John Lloyd said as they watched the finished production for the first time the cutting room team also feel silent. He said only three or four times as a T.V. Producer had he felt he had ‘touched the numinous’ – and this was such an occasion.
‘Touching the Numinous’ – what a great phrase! Describing those moments when we intuitively know we are witnesses or participants in something immensely life affirming or life giving.
I guess in the bible such ‘Touching the Numinous’ moments happened as Moses ‘meets’ God in the burning bush or as Mary ‘meets’ the gardener on the morning of Easter Day and then realises he is Jesus.
When have we, I wonder, ‘touched the numinous’? For some it’s in worship, for others it’s whilst out walking in the country. For some it’s a time of prayer, whilst for others it’s during a time with family.
I think I had it once when singing Bach’s St Matthew Passion with the Malvern Festival Chorus. We had a long ten-week rehearsal schedule as we practiced it in ‘bits’. It only really came together at the last rehearsal on the Saturday afternoon of the concert, the first with the orchestra and boys’ choir. I remember overwhelming moments that afternoon when I opened my mouth and nothing came out because I was so taken up with the beauty of what I was hearing all around me – a moment of touching the numinous.
We take such times and treasure them in our hearts – they give dignity to our humanity and whisper to us of the depth of the Divine.
Best wishes,
John Lloyd said as they watched the finished production for the first time the cutting room team also feel silent. He said only three or four times as a T.V. Producer had he felt he had ‘touched the numinous’ – and this was such an occasion.
‘Touching the Numinous’ – what a great phrase! Describing those moments when we intuitively know we are witnesses or participants in something immensely life affirming or life giving.
I guess in the bible such ‘Touching the Numinous’ moments happened as Moses ‘meets’ God in the burning bush or as Mary ‘meets’ the gardener on the morning of Easter Day and then realises he is Jesus.
When have we, I wonder, ‘touched the numinous’? For some it’s in worship, for others it’s whilst out walking in the country. For some it’s a time of prayer, whilst for others it’s during a time with family.
I think I had it once when singing Bach’s St Matthew Passion with the Malvern Festival Chorus. We had a long ten-week rehearsal schedule as we practiced it in ‘bits’. It only really came together at the last rehearsal on the Saturday afternoon of the concert, the first with the orchestra and boys’ choir. I remember overwhelming moments that afternoon when I opened my mouth and nothing came out because I was so taken up with the beauty of what I was hearing all around me – a moment of touching the numinous.
We take such times and treasure them in our hearts – they give dignity to our humanity and whisper to us of the depth of the Divine.
Best wishes,
Ian
Ps. Blog holiday next week!
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