My first two years at Waring Taylor were spent in the maintenance department as a technician. I had worked for seven years in private industry in the radio telephone department of Plessey(NZ) servicing radios for Wellington City Traffic Department, MOT, various trucking companies and a couple of taxi companies plus several odd bods and one offs. All self taught. It was flying by the proverbial pants seat. I was very good at passing exams but not so hot at practical work. We also had the NZBC as a customer. All their outside broadcast vehicles and film camera crew cars had RT’s. So I made a few contacts including the late Malcolm Kemp who eventually became a close and trusted friend. When Malcolm became the chief studio and outside broadcast cameraman it was he who invited me into the camera department. He was subsequently head hunted by the BBC for their outside broadcast service after he and Logan Brewer devised and directed the opening ceremony of the 1990 Commonwealth games in Auckland. The BBC People were quite blown away by the originality and spectacle of that occasion. Malcolm was approached at the games and the offer to go to London was made then and there. His biggest job was as the director of coverage for Princess Diana’s funeral parade for which he received a BAFTA. 165 cameras including about fifty from commercial TV.
Go, that boy from Naenae!!!
Technicians at the NZBC were extraordinarily well trained. They were trained in depth by senior people who had unrivalled knowledge of broadcasting technology. Not just maintainers of equipment, but builders of equipment, improvers on the manufacturers originals, experts in metal work and artists in the skills of immaculate wiring in the guts of equipment. I was overawed by their abilities. Compared to them my skills were rather thin. But I was forced to learn and get over my lack of self belief. “I’m not very good with my hands” just did not wash. That high level of skills persisted throughout broadcasting. An ethos of excellence pervaded the entire organisation. Everyone was always striving to improve the service due to the public. It was called ‘The Public Service’ don’t you know. I was enormously proud to be an NZBC staffer. My belief in the absolutely essential requirement for a public service broadcasting system persists to this day. Let’s hope that the new entity now in the pipeline is successful even in the face of threats from National and Act and that tired and tiresome old dinosaur Winston. But I had other fish to fry also and after two years of maintenance in the studio, snow and ice at outside broadcasts (horse racing at Woodville in the winter was something to behold) I was ready for a change. My probationary period was up and I was free to apply for a transfer to another department. I wanted to edge closer to production and ‘Operations’ was the place to do that. Operations staff drove all the equipment that brought productions to the screen. Cameras, vision control, vision switching, sound, lighting, video taping and editing, floor managing and assistant directing et al. My speciality became vision controller, or, as it was known in those Black and White days of TV, CAMERA CONTROL UNIT OPERATOR. CCU for short. I was getting closer to those cameramen (no women at that time but that all changed when we moved to Avalon) they were on the pointy end of the camera cable and I was on the other in the control room, handling the camera exposures and the contrast and brightness etc. under the supervision of the lighting director who was also the Technical Producer for the production. Again I was in another level of heaven. I loved being in the control room. Many long friendships were started there. We did all sorts of productions including the evening news which came out of Studio 3 on the ground floor of Waring Taylor. Pioneering days indeed. There were about 90 people working at WNTV-1 then. That included the film section in Polo House down the other end of town and the administration people in Victoria Street just round the corner from Carmen’s Le Balcon. It was the only TV game in town. One channel, and it was a real cachet to be a part of it. Of course the news service operated mostly out of Broadcasting House in Bowen Street and the journalists and presenters worked in both mediums. The presenters would read the news on radio throughout the day then walk down to Waring Taylor for the evening news. Our main newsreaders were Bill Toft, Philip Sherry and the wonderful Dougal Stevenson. All household names by this time. Famous I guess. But the ‘Cult of Personality’ was severely frowned on by the old men at the top and displays of showmanship were restricted to slightly raised eyebrows and short pauses followed by almost inaudible intakes of breath indicating the readers opinion of what they had just read. Dougal was particularily good at this and his apparently stony faced looks at camera displayed a wealth of meaning to the discerning viewer. Stars they might have been to the public but inside the studios they were just co-workers and that suited them fine. Egalitarianism was the order of the day. We were all squeezed together in quite a small space and there was no need or desire for grandstanding or displays of ego. I recall those times with great affection. I was working with the most excellent people whose like we will probably never see again. We worked on a good variety of productions in the bigger upstairs studio, Studio One. Buck House, where I first encountered John Clarke, Paul Holmes(an incessant chatterbox) John Banas, ( a great talent I thought) Cathy Downes (somewhat haughty but boy could she act) Tony Barry the great Australian and a great chap all round, Myra de Groot and Jacqui Dunne all lovely people. Studio One and New Faces where Split Enz first showed their painted faces. What a close bunch were those guys. Almost cultish in their difference. But I loved their music. Eddie Raynor made them swing. None of us had really any idea of how iconic they would become. The producers and production crew found them to be ‘strange’ and ‘demanding’ and the judging panel just did not get it. But boy, were we all wrong. Looking back it is easy to see that they knew exactly the effect they were having on what they thought were “a real bunch if squares” as someone overheard them saying. Basically, they were just simply taking the piss. They were a bunch of young guys in their prime who had complete belief in themselves. Good on you guys, you had me thinking. We also did quite a bit of weekend work (double time) with Ngati Poneke Māori Club run by Donas and Bill Nathan. That work was a revelation to me, being a newish chum. It involved not only music dance and song but also much about Māori Tikanga which opened my eyes. Until that time Māori had seemed almost invisible to me even when I lived in Bulls. They were thin on the ground in broadcasting and the subject was never discussed. Radical talk was not considered kosher especially where ‘OUR’ Māori were concerned. That little three letter word says it all. That was the undercurrent of the times and it must be mentioned. Our paradise had a fatal flaw and it would come to the fore one day. I was as complicit as everyone else I guess. Too busy enjoying my dream job and not entirely willing to upset the jolly old applecart. But boy did I get into trouble in later times with my bjg mouth. When we transferred Barry Barclay’s Tangata Whenua to video tape through Studio One I was gobsmacked by what I was seeing on screen. A whole ancient culture going on in tandem with European rule but almost invisible to pakeha eyes. But credit to those New Zealanders who did see what was going on at that time and determined to do something about it. The power of Public Broadcasting to open minds and create change for the better is something we must re-establish soon.( But please do not put Simon Bridges in charge of the new entity. I cannot think of a worse person to do that job.)
Meanwhile back at the studio things were rolling along sweetly for me. My entire being was infused with broadcasting experience and production techniques. I think it was getting into my dna. After three years in technical operations my attention was swinging once more to camerawork. I had spent three years being intimately involved with camera crew and cameras, which I had gained some expertise in. Time to make the big jump to what I thought would be the ultimate job.
1974 was the last full year we spent at Waring Taylor before the shift to Avalon in 1975. It was also the year I joined the camera section. When I was a young projectionist in the 1950’s, films were my passion. After all I was watching movies six days and nights a week and every facet of production held my interest. To this day I still recall the names in the main crew credits. And the jobs, Wardrobe, make-up, editors, director of photography, designers, set dressers etc. One name that wasn’t commonly included was the name of the camera operator. The D.O.P was usually referred to as the cameraman or cinematographer. But there was one name which I do remember, James Wong Howe who was a legend. He had been in films since 1917 and I had seen him in a documentary about his life. In the doco he was sitting up way above the studio floor on a camera crane and doing the most amazing swoops and dives and tracking shots. That was my fantasy right there. One day I might get to do that job and be that guy. I could not imagine anything more glamourous and exciting. When Commercial TV arrived in Scotland in 1956 my attention switched to TV camerawork. An acquaintance of mine who had been a projectionist had been appointed as head cameraman in the Glasgow studios. His name was John Shirley and he had been trained as an aerial film cameraman by the RAF when he was doing his National Service. When he left the RAF he applied for a job as a cameraman at the BBC in London. After a few years he returned to Scotland to the job in Glasgow. Well, that was it for me. I knew then that I had to become a TV Cameraman. It was possible after all. Especially when I saw John on TV with his camera casually talking to the host of a popular entertainment show like they were old mates. Sounds cheesy I know, but I was a star struck teenager very easily swayed by such things. So, when Malcolm Kemp asked me for about the third time if I would like to interview for a job in cameras, I was still carrying those dreams. So I became a trainee cameraman. Third time because I had a bit of cold feet earlier. I was in my thirties and it is really a younger person’s job. But eventually I thought. WT…
What was it like to be a greenhorn cameraman amongst a camera crew which contained people who were absolute masters of their craft. I was the classic fish out of water. Clumsy, awkward, uncoordinated, and very uncool. Sometimes Malcolm would come into the studio where I was working and watch me like a hawk. If I made a boo boo he would walk up behind me and say something very uncomplimentary and rather cruel as my fragile ego saw it. He had stuck out his neck to get me in there and he wanted his gamble to pay off. But I held no ill feelings towards him. I swallowed my pride, shut up and stuck to my course. It was a job that meant everything to me and I was not a quitter. Sounds a bit pathetic but I was hungry for it. In 1975 we moved to Avalon and it was all on. The new studios were fantastic especially Studio 8 which was the main production suite. What a magnificent sight. Huge beyond anything we were used to. A vast cavernous space with everything state of the art. We even had a camera crane and I’m sure my thoughts flew back in time to Jimmy Wong Howe on that gigantic crane in Hollywood. I got to sit up atop that crane on several productions and it was everything and more than I had expected. Gliding across the studio floor about 15 feet or more off the ground with someone driving the crane from the rear and reacting to your hand signals which signified track in or out, go left or right whilst you controlled the elevation and direction of the camera. A real thrill if there was lots of movement from performers especially dancers. Even better if it was ballet with the music score playing in your headphones. At times the hair on the back of your neck would literally prickle with excitement at what you were involved in. The crane platform which held cameraperson and camera could crane down to about one inch off the floor and the nearness of the dancers was, as you moved in tempo with them, other worldly. Are you getting the impression that I loved it? You bet. I wont dwell on my crane disasters. Why spoil the party? But all that was yet to come. A bit later on we started production of Close To Home our first ‘soap opera’ and Malcolm rostered me on to the first episodes. Nerve wracking hardly describes it. But I worked on the first 120 episodes of that production and gained major experience and improvement in camera technique in that time. But CTH was not the only game in town. In that era we also did two seasons of the drama ‘Moynihan’ a trade union/political series which was also something of a landmark event. Great directors too, notably Brian Bell, Murray Reece and Ross Jennings. Tony Isaac who was the Producer and co-creator wth Michael Noonan of CTH and also directed the first 30 episodes of the soap was not involved in Moynihan. He was planning his great epic ‘The Governor’. A momentous film series which stands up to this day. Tony was the director I most admired. A great person to work with. I recall his method of expressing displeasure in the control room if you blew a take during CTH. A sharp intake of breath was all one heard in the cans but it conveyed a whole gamut of meaning and was enough to make you feel chagrined at your clumsiness. But Tony was always quick to praise also. He encouraged people to do better without much wringjng of hands and imprecations. Sadly, Tony passed away in 1986 much too early for such a talented man.
In the first two years at Avalon we worked on a vast number of productions. Each week we saw at least four major shows in production in vehicles as diverse as Drama, Entertainment, Opera, Ballet, Chat shows, plus we did minor fare like cooking shows and quizzes/games. All grist for my mill of course as I continued to learn and improve. The best chat show was, no contest, Edwards on Saturday. It started about 10 pm and was ‘open ended.’ Sometimes it ran until 2am or later. A fantastic experience for all involved. It was never attempted in later years mostly due to the timidity of management. The Director General in Avalon’s early period was Alan Morris and the Controller of Programmes was Bill Munro an Australian. Both of those guys had vast international experience in TV Production and totally supported in an enlightened way the efforts of all staff engaged in programme making. They operated a special fund which was available to anyone with original ideas. The office door was permanently open for people to pitch an idea. No bullshit, no sycophancy, no long meetings where ideas could be shot down as soon as they took flight. If they accepted an idea the money was available there and then. Hard to believe such a ‘Camelot’ existed when you look at the state of Public Broadcasting in 2023. And lurking in the background was Rob Muldoon who, within a few years, would tear down all that creativity and promise.
One Saturday evening when I was working on the Brian Edwards Show, the camera crew which included yours truly was walking into Studio 8 to start rehearsals for that night. As we walked across the studio towards our cameras I suddenly felt a sort of epiphanous sensation that I could do just about anything required of me by the director. My confidence in my abilities suddenly felt boundless. I had arrived at that moment when out of the blue you can, ride a bike like The Sundance Kid, play a chord on the guitar etc. Up to that moment of revelation I had learned competency at my job but was still anxious about what I would find on my shot cards hanging on the camera. I felt quietly content. Boy was I happy. Success at last in my dream job. All that pressure cooker experience of working on so many major productions had paid off in spades. And the support and advice I received from my peers in the camera crew had played a major role in my skills improvement. From whence did that feeling of confidence arrive? No matter. There it was and it felt good. (Just heard about the passing of Rener Geyer. Renee came out to Avalon a few times during her NZ tours. She appeared on ‘Grunt Machine’ and I recall her as being a tremendous performer with great stage presence. A lovely person to work with and very popular with crew. No bullshit from Renee. I was the least experienced camera on ‘Grunt’ which was a very ‘cool’ show to work on. My job usually was to hold a wide shot and not be too ambitious. But Renee always made everyone feel special and that’s what I remember about her. Go well lovely lady.)
In the winter of that year (1975) the Outside Broadcasting unit and a full crew started doing extended tours of the North Island. The tours were dubbed ‘Safaris’. The first one was to Auckland and North Auckland and lasted for just over three weeks. Malcolm had rostered me for the trip and I was up for it. We covered major and not so major sports events, went live from The Dominion Theatre on Dominion Road on Friday nights with The Max Cryer show, recorded video inserts for Grunt Machine and ‘Ready to Roll’ and generally had a marvellous time. I recall that we did 22 outside broadcasts in 21 days a pretty spectacular achievement. We all became very proficient at rigging and derigging the great amount of equipment it took to do any one show. The camera crew were the only people on the crew who did not get a day off for the whole trip. We hardly noticed. Too busy having a good time.
Malcolm was chief camera on the Safari and he was very keen to have a go at directing some of the music clips we were recording. He was certainly well qualified for the job. An outstanding musician and trombone player. He played with the National Youth Orchestra and I think he may even havd done a few gigs with the Symphony Orchestra. He was that good. Let’s cut to the chase. He was a great success and when we returned to Avalon he became a director in the Entertainment Department. Just like that. His dream too was coming on. In time he became Head of Sports and later Head of Entertainment. Malcolm became the go to person for producing snd directing major national events such as General Election coverage on polling day and large scale entertainment projects. He had gained wide experience on productions and was well placed to handle the complexities of large events. Also a master cameraman by the way. One of the best. A perfectionist in all he attempted made him a demanding producer/director in his later career. There’s no business like show business as the old song has it. But God, it takes it’s toll on people. I was taking notes.
With the departure of Malcolm as head cameraperson a new boss had to be appointed and that role fell to my close friend Bruce Anderson. Bruce also was a superb cameraman but was almost the polar opposite of Malcolm in just about everything barring their shared passion for excellence. I don’t want to say too much about Bruce. We were very close friends and just about surrogate brothers until he died in 2021. He played a major role in my life and I am acknowledging that with deepest respect. I hero worshipped him I guess and that is always a mistake given the uncertain nature of people and all our fatal flaws. No one escapes that knowledge save the very foolish.
Bruce left broadcasting about two years after taking on his new position. He had become disillusioned with what he saw as the emerging management class at Avalon and was wrestling with his own interior life. After Bruce left I lost interest in staying on in cameras. My decision to move on was hastened by a manager type pointing at me one day and saying “I think I see our new head cameraman”. What sort of fucking tool did they think I was that I would want my best mate’s job? Bruce was right about those dried up wankers. So it was goodnight from him and same for me. Bruce and I remained buddies and enjoyed our saturday afternoon malt whisky sessions for many years until he shot through blue. Whisky never tasted quite as good after that and I am virtually teetotal now. We ended up working together again many years later at ‘the film archive’ where we were the resident curmudgeons and sceptics for some time until we both retired undefeated in 2014 and 2017 respectively. Long may you run Bruce.
My next adventure in TV was in the Studio Floor Management section at Avalon which was run by one of the most colourful and talented people in broadcasting.
Some names prompted memories from the other side of the screen. An extra half a second of pause or slightly flared nostrils, hah.
Public service, I apprenticed into it. Fortnightly wages, cash in small envelopes. Did you have a canteen? Hot pies and warm coffee (or tea) from huge urns into thick cups, stirred with stamped spoons. NZPO.
It's a journey, Dan! Can I make a suggestion? If you break it up into small paragraphs it's easier for the reader! Someone told me that years ago when I started writing a blog. :)
I’ve been thinking about that. The gap between paragraphs seems so big on Substack and that put me off. But thanks for suggesting that. I will give it a go.
When I got to the end and I realised how long the piece was, (17 Mins!) I also thought that perhaps It would be a good idea to tell my story in shorter bursts. That means more posts I guess. I hope to improve. It is therapeutic for me but not quite so much for the reader.
This is quite the story, it’s like mine, but backwards. With no technical training, apprenticeships or exams, I find myself doing the occasional CCU shift now, and cameras, and even horse racing at the very same Woodville track. No snow or ice these days of course, not even in winter.
Some names prompted memories from the other side of the screen. An extra half a second of pause or slightly flared nostrils, hah.
Public service, I apprenticed into it. Fortnightly wages, cash in small envelopes. Did you have a canteen? Hot pies and warm coffee (or tea) from huge urns into thick cups, stirred with stamped spoons. NZPO.
Yeah, you got it alright. All of the above.
Another enjoyable read!
Thanks Alison. Your support is important to me.
Thanks for sharing your story, Dan!
Cheers Barbara. I’m still working on what to leave out and what to leave in. Editing as I go, not altogether successfully.😎🤗
It's a journey, Dan! Can I make a suggestion? If you break it up into small paragraphs it's easier for the reader! Someone told me that years ago when I started writing a blog. :)
I’ve been thinking about that. The gap between paragraphs seems so big on Substack and that put me off. But thanks for suggesting that. I will give it a go.
When I got to the end and I realised how long the piece was, (17 Mins!) I also thought that perhaps It would be a good idea to tell my story in shorter bursts. That means more posts I guess. I hope to improve. It is therapeutic for me but not quite so much for the reader.
See you!
🌞
And I'll bet you've got some great photos to go with your stories! It's really easy to add them...
Give it a try! I find it much easier as a reader. You're doing great!!
So good!
Thank you Terri
This gets ever more enthralling! Really enjoying it, Dan.
Too kind David. Cheers🌞
This is quite the story, it’s like mine, but backwards. With no technical training, apprenticeships or exams, I find myself doing the occasional CCU shift now, and cameras, and even horse racing at the very same Woodville track. No snow or ice these days of course, not even in winter.