The assignment this time is to nominate one YouTube video and one podcast and say why.
For a YouTube video, I propose the tour of Cambridge University's Social and Political Science Library, presented by Jenni Skinner. The SPS Library is a sibling of the library in which I work, and seeing what they could do, when they first loaded this video, inevitably gave me ideas. In the Haddon, the ideas have so far come to nothing, but perhaps some day we might rise to the occasion.
For a podcast, I nominate a brief extract from David Hendy's documentary about BBC Radio 3: a recollection of continuity announcers Tom Crow and Patricia Hughes. When they were active, I was in my teens, and much more drawn to radio than to television. Podcasts are the 21st century's adaptation of that medium, and I can't think why I haven't explored them more.
Showing posts with label Radio 3. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Radio 3. Show all posts
Sunday, 4 December 2016
Sunday, 9 October 2016
70 + 3
This was written in response to Radio 3's appeal to listeners for 3-line poems, to be read out on National Poetry Day in honour of the station's 70th anniversary. I sent it to them via Twitter. My poem wasn't read out, so far as I know, and the tweet has had a remarkably low number of views. However, the tweet amounted to publication, so the poem is now ineligible for entry in most competitions; it earns its place in this blog. It's another recollection of my teenage mania for listening to foreign radio stations.
Learnt in my teens, the 1970s:
short-wavers called good wishes 73s.
At 70, 3, receive all mine of these.
70 + 3
short-wavers called good wishes 73s.
At 70, 3, receive all mine of these.
Thursday, 10 January 2013
First poem of 2013
My first of 2013 is a haiku, written out of a Twitter conversation
with school librarian Nicky Adkins and, would you believe, BBC Radio 3. I don't know who does Radio 3's tweeting.
You can look on Twitter for the entire conversation. I had recalled that BBC R3 had become my home station even amid my teenage explorations of Radio Tirana and such. Radio 3 replied with thanks and a recording of Radio Tirana's sign-on, at http://bit.ly/UzY1xB , as I remember it from forty years ago. This has just drawn from me the following lines:
Tirana's trumpets
rise from 70s shortwave
like Titanic rails
and I have duly tweeted them.
Those of you who don't remember my 1970s addiction to foreign radio listening might be interested to read this article I wrote about it long afterwards.
You can look on Twitter for the entire conversation. I had recalled that BBC R3 had become my home station even amid my teenage explorations of Radio Tirana and such. Radio 3 replied with thanks and a recording of Radio Tirana's sign-on, at http://bit.ly/UzY1xB , as I remember it from forty years ago. This has just drawn from me the following lines:
Tirana's trumpets
rise from 70s shortwave
like Titanic rails
and I have duly tweeted them.
Those of you who don't remember my 1970s addiction to foreign radio listening might be interested to read this article I wrote about it long afterwards.
Monday, 30 May 2011
Three more music poems
Yes, I've no excuse for blogging these, except that I've been at work all this bank holiday.
The first dates from 2004, and was published in the 2007 Ver Prize anthology from Ver Poets of St Albans.
TWO SETTINGS OF A.E. HOUSMAN
Vaughan Williams. An upland slope
as steep as team can plough,
a cloud of gulls, a hillside's
sliding shadow.
Butterworth. The sport along
the river-shore, the flow;
and slow chords match the silence
of old film, now.
The second is one of the earliest poems of mine to be be still getting much of an outing, having been first published in the Durham student magazine Palatinate in May 1977.
MAGNIFICAT IN B MINOR BY THOMAS TERTIUS NOBLE (1867-1953)
Banks of black cloud climbed up the sky;
the cathedral became Noah's Ark:
the striking afternoon sun held her straight
against the boomy dark.
But, down in the body ecclesiastic,
something was rotten and soft:
there were intrigues in the vestry that year,
and A CORPSE IN THE ORGAN-LOFT.
Finally, a sonnet -- one of several I wrote for Radio 3's sonnet competition in the autumn of 2001, though I was allowed to enter only one, and this was not it. It was published in Perimeter 11, 2003.
It's not evocatively musical, as the other two poems in the blog try to be. It namechecks Britten. The Radio 3 indiscretion mentioned in ll. 5-8 was triggered by Britten's Gemini variations. Social mores and Radio 3's presentation style have both changed since 1989; the word awesome has changed its meaning since 2001. But I think it's still the case that a loved one's privacy is not yours to dispense with.
OUT
Wilfred Pickles bade Britain Goodneet. The red
light closed. Out at Moorside Edge, sporting no light,
the mast faithfully relayed the way he said
the word. The shock, under the wartime night.
Buoyed up by Britten, one presenter on
Radio Three announced another as
not his twin but his companion,
in '89. The red light stopped. There was
an awesome silence. Out, brief candle; out,
damned spot; an outing and a half! Judas went
out; and it was night. Light out, from twent-
y years of seance failed. Lamps going out
all over Europe. More than going out.
Out, fallen out, down and out; a rout, a rout.
The first dates from 2004, and was published in the 2007 Ver Prize anthology from Ver Poets of St Albans.
TWO SETTINGS OF A.E. HOUSMAN
Vaughan Williams. An upland slope
as steep as team can plough,
a cloud of gulls, a hillside's
sliding shadow.
Butterworth. The sport along
the river-shore, the flow;
and slow chords match the silence
of old film, now.
The second is one of the earliest poems of mine to be be still getting much of an outing, having been first published in the Durham student magazine Palatinate in May 1977.
MAGNIFICAT IN B MINOR BY THOMAS TERTIUS NOBLE (1867-1953)
Banks of black cloud climbed up the sky;
the cathedral became Noah's Ark:
the striking afternoon sun held her straight
against the boomy dark.
But, down in the body ecclesiastic,
something was rotten and soft:
there were intrigues in the vestry that year,
and A CORPSE IN THE ORGAN-LOFT.
Finally, a sonnet -- one of several I wrote for Radio 3's sonnet competition in the autumn of 2001, though I was allowed to enter only one, and this was not it. It was published in Perimeter 11, 2003.
It's not evocatively musical, as the other two poems in the blog try to be. It namechecks Britten. The Radio 3 indiscretion mentioned in ll. 5-8 was triggered by Britten's Gemini variations. Social mores and Radio 3's presentation style have both changed since 1989; the word awesome has changed its meaning since 2001. But I think it's still the case that a loved one's privacy is not yours to dispense with.
OUT
Wilfred Pickles bade Britain Goodneet. The red
light closed. Out at Moorside Edge, sporting no light,
the mast faithfully relayed the way he said
the word. The shock, under the wartime night.
Buoyed up by Britten, one presenter on
Radio Three announced another as
not his twin but his companion,
in '89. The red light stopped. There was
an awesome silence. Out, brief candle; out,
damned spot; an outing and a half! Judas went
out; and it was night. Light out, from twent-
y years of seance failed. Lamps going out
all over Europe. More than going out.
Out, fallen out, down and out; a rout, a rout.
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