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Laughs And "Breaks" In The

Early Days

Ne the ‘days when:the New Zealand broadcasting I service consisted of .0001 horse-power transmit~‘ters; a few. gramophone records given-to the sta- ~- tions ‘by.-friends and admirers, and a handful of "old. faithfuls" who could’be relied upon to sing, play, recite’ or tap-dance at a moment’s notice, there were mativ amusinc cincidents behind the scenes.. Over. a

bowl, of. tea: and a cigarette the other day,: ane- ofthe men’: who wa early assoti-' ated "with broadcasting ‘ spoke. ‘to. the. "Radio .Re--. cord" of those early daysand ofthe fun and, ‘disap- | nointmente that are dnvati-

ablycornectéd with. any pioneering venture. . "Perhaps one’ of the best hoaxes in. New Zealand broadcasting was. put across myself ‘and: about 160 other ‘innocents,’ he said. "An advertisement appeared asking for an atinouncer for a certain Auckland radio, station. There. were about 160 applicants, and we were duly advised to prepare a programme and report back to the studio where it would be broadcast and listened to by the general manager of the concern, who, incidentally, resided some 600 miles away. 1 was more than mildly excited at the prospect of going on the air, especially as the broadcast would be picked up as far south as Christchurch, and I went to no end of trouble preparing a programme on Coleridge Taylor’s works. I duly performed for 20 minutes, and then returned home-six miles from Auckland-where my friends and relations had been listening in on a fourvalve set. But they told me that they hadn’t heard a single note of my broadcast, and I discovered that the transmitting plant was of such low power that it was incapable of covering an area of more than a square mile or two. -In the meantime, the tests for announcers were going ahead, and the station was provided with a fortnight’s programmes at no cost at all. On the last night an aged violinist was among the performers, and what he lacked in talent he made up for in zeal.

His playing was atrocious, and he insisted on going right through his repertoire. But he didn’t know that, a few miinutes after he had started, the station had: quietly switched him off. and plugged in to the orchestra of the Lyric Theatre round the corner." A recording of the Lord Mayor’s) Show provided | Auckland with one of its biggest broadcasting thrills-and certainly deserved: the 1926 prize for: a _ classic piece of leg-pulling. In those days perfor-’ mers were wont to. turn up at the’ studio only if they felt inclined, and often it was necessary to improvise

a. programme to fill.in the gap left on the, programme schedule on account of the non-appearance of a singer or a-musician. It was because of this that the officials of one broadcasting station were forced to look hurriedly through their stocks of recordings one evening to carry on the programme. "The Lord Mayor's Show" was decided upon, and it soon had Auckland

listeners sitting bolt upright in their seats. "This is 2LO, London, calling," went the record, "and you are now about to witness the procession connected with the Lord. Mayor’s Show. ..." ‘There fol-

lowed the sounds of crowds in the London streets, the fanfare of trumpets and all the sounds incidental to this great annual ceremony. No sooner had the. recording finished than the studio was deluged with congratulatory telegrams and telephone rings. The "Herald" and the "Star" next day made reference to the wonderful rebroadcast from London at a time when Empire broadcasts were buit a remote possibility, and the Empire service still seven years away! For days Auckland buzzed with the news, and it was finally "blown out" by the "Star," which published the true facts of the case, gleaned from a station operator who couldn’t keep a good story to himself. About this time 1YA had a line run across France Street, Newton, to the Prince Edward Theatre for rebroadcasts of the orchestra. On another of the many occasions when a performer failed to turn up the station called upon George Poore, the leader of the orchestra and an excellent flautist, to give an extra item ‘or two from the studio. The announcer did not ‘give Mr. Poore’s name, but asked listeners to guess who the flautist was. The response was amazing-and a little staggering. . The station’s post office box was all too small to carry the replies, which came from remote lighthouses and lonely farms, from Australia’ and: the Chatham Islands. It was the last time that an announce- -~

ment of that kind was made over the air! A similar. incident . occurred in the early days of broadcasting in England. A speaker was giving the history of the Houses of Parliament at Westminister. At the close of his talk he mentioned casually that if anyone liked to be outside the main entrance at ten o'clock nextmorning he would show him over. At that hour the next day the queue stretched for two blocks, and was growing every minute! . One ‘of the first: dance relays in New Zealand broadcasting ‘was brought to: an amusing finale. "A: hall was carefully

When N. Z.. Radio Was Very Young

wired by an Australian expert sent over for the purpose, and the station was told by the dance hall proprietor that a very "posh" orchestra had been engaged. for the occasion. When the orchestra did turn up it consisted of a piano, a fiddle and a cornet. However, the broadcast went ahead merrily until a young stalwart and his lass staged a violent disagreement right under the microphone! The orchestra played up valiantly, but the voices of the protagonists were even louder: and some gloriously lurid passages floated into the peaceful homes of hundreds of Aucklanders that night. The final scene was enacted: when another man intervened and was sent sprawling to the floor by a welldirected blow. On another occasion a well-known Auckland club was to have its evening programme broadcast from Scots Hall. The orchestra and performers were on the stage and the technicians who were looking after

the relay were in the orchestral well. The mayor of a borough a mile or two from the city was chairman for the evening, and, in the course of his speech, he rolled off a very bright but scarcely drawing-room gtory, fully believing that the technicians had cut-him ff the air.. Just what his wife said to him when he got home that night it-would be cruel to repeat. Another Auckland club, well-known for its efforts for sweet charity’s sake, had arranged for a two-hour broadcast of its evening programme. .The assistants at the studio were accordingly given an evening off, but, at five minutes to eight, word came that* the club’s committee could not sanction a broadcast. The 1YA announcer had to get in front of the microphone and deliver the whole programme himself! For one number he was a bass, and for the next a baritone, and, when he had exhausted his singing possibilities, his eye fell on a magazine lying on the studio floor, so-he picked it up and proceeded to give a "lecture" on beetles, reading from the paper. The operator laughed so much that he accidentally cut the station off the air. When "Smithy" made his first flight across the Tasman the transmitter of the Southern Cross was fitted with a peculiar tuning note so that, when messages were not being broadcast, this note kept listeners informed that the ’plane was still on its way. The Auckland | station lost contact with the Southern Cross, so it communicated with 2YA, which was still picking up the tuning note. For three hours no messages came to hand, only the monotonous hum of the note coming over the air. Next day, when the ’plane had reached Christchurch, it was discovered that the transmitter had-been out of action for three hours on the trip across.and the tuning note picked up by 2YA had been coming from an overseas commercial Morse station. In the far-off days of 1926 records could not be played between the hours of eight and ten in the evening, and the stations were often hard-pressed to find enough, performers to fill the bill. A pianist, who is. now in a position of importance in the broadcasting service, would often appear under two names on the same programme-his own and that of Andrew White.

It was rather amusing the number of letters that the station received comparing one pianist with: the other. While: this article: is primarily concerned ‘with. the amusing incidents in New Zealand broadcasting, it -18 worth mentioning, in passing, one or two’ "behind ‘the scenes" dramas and comedies that have taken place in the august atmosphere’ of, Broadcasting House: in-Lon-don. In the early hours of a winter’s morning’a young pianist who was due to broadcast in the Empire transmission to Australia and New Zealand was so anxious to be on time that he fell down a flight-of stairs:leading to the studio and cracked his head against a ‘door. ‘There was no time to bandage the injury, so he. gallantly carried on with his work of accompanying two Empire singers. Each of the ladies sang-and the other bathed the bleeding head of* the accompanist‘ with her handkerchief. Fortunately they did not have to sing a duet. The injury was not serious, but the artists chad the.utmost difficulty in preserving their gravity. There-was another incident associated with an. early morning transmission, which was more romantic than humorous. Owing to some misunderstanding the accompanist did not turn up. Fortunately some one remembered that the night liftman was-a: bit ofa musician. He was hurried to the studio.and ‘saved the situation nobly. It is pleasant to add. that that.gifted liftman shortly after received a lift-of another: kind. and he has now a much better position in the B‘B.C. In the Australian transmission artists who have perhaps remained up all night so as to..be in-time for an early morning broadcast.are apt to give a-wry smile when the announcer at 6.15 a.m.. says."Good Evening Everybody." On one occasion a vocalist with a-sense of humour could scarcely restrain his feelings’ as he sang fortissimo ‘in the'very early morning "Droop Not, Young Lover." -- An: American: lady. wrote: congratulating the B.B.C. on its Empire programmes, and finally said how much she enjoyed the daily theme song. After a certain amount of investigation it was found that the theme song which had so captivated her, fancy was the National Anthem, ree

This article text was automatically generated and may include errors. View the full page to see article in its original form.I whakaputaina aunoatia ēnei kuputuhi tuhinga, e kitea ai pea ētahi hapa i roto. Tirohia te whārangi katoa kia kitea te āhuatanga taketake o te tuhinga.
Permanent link to this item
Hononga pūmau ki tēnei tūemi

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/RADREC19350510.2.9

Bibliographic details
Ngā taipitopito pukapuka

Radio Record, Volume VIII, Issue 44, 10 May 1935, Page 6

Word count
Tapeke kupu
1,749

Laughs And "Breaks" In The Early Days Radio Record, Volume VIII, Issue 44, 10 May 1935, Page 6

Laughs And "Breaks" In The Early Days Radio Record, Volume VIII, Issue 44, 10 May 1935, Page 6

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