Sunday, June 18, 2006
Community spirit
There are few things that bring a community together better than radio. The senior service of the electronic media that has the capacity to be intimate, yet everywhere at once, is helping to rebuild and better bond communities across the UK in the latest wave of small, local stations.
The philosophy is rather simple: go local, local, local. In communities that are, by definition, too small to sustain a commercial presence on the airwaves, there are now opportunities to create a powerful presence with Community Radio.
Already, there are many on air, with many others preparing their licence bids for the next round of awards from the UK radio regulator, Ofcom. The BBC has launched a pilot service of what it calls "ultra local" stations and is seeking to develop community broadcasting even further.
Not so very long ago, "real broadcasters in real stations" would scoff at the notion of such "baby broadcasters". One former senior figure in the old Radio Authority once haughtily told me: "Let's face it, these stations are the domain of the anorak and the nutter."
I contended he was wrong and had just insulted a swathe of volunteers who give their heart and soul to these small stations - as they do in hospital radio - and can very often sound far better than their commercial and BBC equivalents.
But no, he retained firm to his view. Perhaps he is one of the reasons the UK had to await the arrival of Ofcom and the demise of the Radio Authority before the great rollout of community stations could begin.
So I guess it is time to declare an interest here: I manage a small station in Queensferry, Scotland, and the team is gearing up to bid for a full-time Community Licence. We don't own an anorak between us.
We have already registered our Intention to Apply with Ofcom and await the sound of the starting pistol to pull together our bid and make our submission.
If we can convince the regulator that we can make a significant contribution to our community and run the station effectively for the duration of a five-year licence, we aim to become full-time broadcasters from next summer.
Our little station was launched to fulfil one role: to promote the community's annual Ferry Fair Gala, the oldest continuing civic gala in Britain. In so doing, we would be broadcasting the voices and sounds of Queensferry around the ancient Royal Burgh for the first time.
The station was embraced by the people, who very swiftly adopted us. But there was one significant problem: nobody told Jubilee FM it was supposed to be a little baby station; and from the launch, it has consistently behaved as a professional, full service broadcaster with all the programmes you would expect to hear from breakfast to drivetime. But we also have a host of specialist music programmes, a nightly youth strand and a marathon seven-hour live broadcast of the big Ferry Fair Day itself.
We all had several training workshops pre-launch to help us along the way, but as a team of volunteers who are passionate about radio and Queensferry, we have created a service that works well.
One of our producers is Janis Laizans. This week, he attended the annual Andrew Cross Awards in Derbyshire, England. There, he collected an award on behalf of the station and the community: Best Community Broadcaster.
It was for a programme that could only have been conceived among this troupe in Queensferry.
One of the most influential figures in our community died suddenly. With the blessing of his family and the support of the minister, Rev John Carrie, we decided to broadcast his funeral, live.
Remembering the Captain - Captain Ken Crowther - is the stuff of legends. But, as I had a role in it, don't take my word, instead take those of the Andrew Cross judges, who said the programme reflected "community broadcasting at its best".
They added: "Jubilee FM showed imagination in choosing to relay to its own community a funeral, and so celebrate the life of a loved and respected local man."
The station also won a Commendation in the category of Special Programmes.
It was the most difficult broadcast for all of us, not only because Ken was a friend and a station volunteer, but we were doing this in our own back yard. Everything, the technical, the production, the tone - all had to be right and appropriate.
You instinctively know if you have made a guid programme. It is great to get warm and positive feedback on the street and despite the circumstances, feel proud of what the team achieved.
And, of course, it is quite something to be judged a national winner by your peers.
Not bad for a wee baby radio station, then.
Charles Fletcher
charles.fletcher@caledoniamedia.com
There are few things that bring a community together better than radio. The senior service of the electronic media that has the capacity to be intimate, yet everywhere at once, is helping to rebuild and better bond communities across the UK in the latest wave of small, local stations.
The philosophy is rather simple: go local, local, local. In communities that are, by definition, too small to sustain a commercial presence on the airwaves, there are now opportunities to create a powerful presence with Community Radio.
Already, there are many on air, with many others preparing their licence bids for the next round of awards from the UK radio regulator, Ofcom. The BBC has launched a pilot service of what it calls "ultra local" stations and is seeking to develop community broadcasting even further.
Not so very long ago, "real broadcasters in real stations" would scoff at the notion of such "baby broadcasters". One former senior figure in the old Radio Authority once haughtily told me: "Let's face it, these stations are the domain of the anorak and the nutter."
I contended he was wrong and had just insulted a swathe of volunteers who give their heart and soul to these small stations - as they do in hospital radio - and can very often sound far better than their commercial and BBC equivalents.
But no, he retained firm to his view. Perhaps he is one of the reasons the UK had to await the arrival of Ofcom and the demise of the Radio Authority before the great rollout of community stations could begin.
So I guess it is time to declare an interest here: I manage a small station in Queensferry, Scotland, and the team is gearing up to bid for a full-time Community Licence. We don't own an anorak between us.
We have already registered our Intention to Apply with Ofcom and await the sound of the starting pistol to pull together our bid and make our submission.
If we can convince the regulator that we can make a significant contribution to our community and run the station effectively for the duration of a five-year licence, we aim to become full-time broadcasters from next summer.
Our little station was launched to fulfil one role: to promote the community's annual Ferry Fair Gala, the oldest continuing civic gala in Britain. In so doing, we would be broadcasting the voices and sounds of Queensferry around the ancient Royal Burgh for the first time.
The station was embraced by the people, who very swiftly adopted us. But there was one significant problem: nobody told Jubilee FM it was supposed to be a little baby station; and from the launch, it has consistently behaved as a professional, full service broadcaster with all the programmes you would expect to hear from breakfast to drivetime. But we also have a host of specialist music programmes, a nightly youth strand and a marathon seven-hour live broadcast of the big Ferry Fair Day itself.
We all had several training workshops pre-launch to help us along the way, but as a team of volunteers who are passionate about radio and Queensferry, we have created a service that works well.
One of our producers is Janis Laizans. This week, he attended the annual Andrew Cross Awards in Derbyshire, England. There, he collected an award on behalf of the station and the community: Best Community Broadcaster.
It was for a programme that could only have been conceived among this troupe in Queensferry.
One of the most influential figures in our community died suddenly. With the blessing of his family and the support of the minister, Rev John Carrie, we decided to broadcast his funeral, live.
Remembering the Captain - Captain Ken Crowther - is the stuff of legends. But, as I had a role in it, don't take my word, instead take those of the Andrew Cross judges, who said the programme reflected "community broadcasting at its best".
They added: "Jubilee FM showed imagination in choosing to relay to its own community a funeral, and so celebrate the life of a loved and respected local man."
The station also won a Commendation in the category of Special Programmes.
It was the most difficult broadcast for all of us, not only because Ken was a friend and a station volunteer, but we were doing this in our own back yard. Everything, the technical, the production, the tone - all had to be right and appropriate.
You instinctively know if you have made a guid programme. It is great to get warm and positive feedback on the street and despite the circumstances, feel proud of what the team achieved.
And, of course, it is quite something to be judged a national winner by your peers.
Not bad for a wee baby radio station, then.
Charles Fletcher
charles.fletcher@caledoniamedia.com
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Glasgow neuralgia
Regular readers will recall the day that the whole thing was conceived. Four dafties on a boat on Loch Lomond agreed it could be fun to have a school reunion after almost 30 years.
Two of them were left to get on with organising it; spending many months trying to trace former pupils of the High School of Glasgow. It wasn't an easy task; and at times it would have been simpler to walk away, not least when you discover the school doesn't have any record of the two who were doing all the hard work.
"That's no way to treat the school captain of 75-76," I said. "We know you weren't," said the lady in the school's development office. Darn.
By and by around 75 former pupils got in touch and on Friday, June 2, 33 of us got together again at Old Anniesland.
In keeping with the style of Glasgow in the mid-70s, it was a "people's reunion".
None of your fancy black tie for us, said the invitation, just come in whatever you feel most comfy in. That could have been dangerous, but in the end it worked splendidly and we had the widest fashion statement possible, ranging from a full Prince Charlie to lounge suits to blazers and ties, jeans and tee-shirts, oh, and one black tie.
We also eschewed a top table. Such is the style of great revolutionaries.
In the background, there was music from the days these guys were at school in the city centre; there was original footage of some of them on board the pirate ship Radio Scotland and many others having a snowball fight in the playground.
How we laughed when one young wag in the movie, carrying the largest snawba' imaginable, reacted bizarrely when he saw the camera - and tried to push the said ba' into his pocket.
There were pictures posted around the room (how they have all aged, dear reader, I'm the only one wearing well) that caused much chattering and laughter. And there was a quiz: trying to recall the real name of teachers we only really knew as Ratty Joe, Holy Joe or Psycho.
My fellow gangmaster and I were chuffed to bits by the response and the atmosphere. "The hard work paid off, then," he said. "Aye, in spades. But we stick to the plan." "Agreed."
The plan was to underline this was a one-off as we had said from the start; a never to be repeated production. And we would retire from the organising - going out on a high (school) at the end of the night. And so we did.
"Well, that plan lasted long, didn't it?" said my chum. "Och, sometimes it's best to be pragmatic and they were so nice aboot it a'. We surely couldnae say no?"
And so it came to pass that before we hud even went to the Post Office to collect oor pensions, oor fellow Former Pupils had encouraged us to come back - and organise the next one.
Pit it in the diary: 7 for 7.30 on Friday, June 3, 2011. The bookings are already coming in.
Charles Fletcher
charles.fletcher@caledoniamedia.com
Regular readers will recall the day that the whole thing was conceived. Four dafties on a boat on Loch Lomond agreed it could be fun to have a school reunion after almost 30 years.
Two of them were left to get on with organising it; spending many months trying to trace former pupils of the High School of Glasgow. It wasn't an easy task; and at times it would have been simpler to walk away, not least when you discover the school doesn't have any record of the two who were doing all the hard work.
"That's no way to treat the school captain of 75-76," I said. "We know you weren't," said the lady in the school's development office. Darn.
By and by around 75 former pupils got in touch and on Friday, June 2, 33 of us got together again at Old Anniesland.
In keeping with the style of Glasgow in the mid-70s, it was a "people's reunion".
None of your fancy black tie for us, said the invitation, just come in whatever you feel most comfy in. That could have been dangerous, but in the end it worked splendidly and we had the widest fashion statement possible, ranging from a full Prince Charlie to lounge suits to blazers and ties, jeans and tee-shirts, oh, and one black tie.
We also eschewed a top table. Such is the style of great revolutionaries.
In the background, there was music from the days these guys were at school in the city centre; there was original footage of some of them on board the pirate ship Radio Scotland and many others having a snowball fight in the playground.
How we laughed when one young wag in the movie, carrying the largest snawba' imaginable, reacted bizarrely when he saw the camera - and tried to push the said ba' into his pocket.
There were pictures posted around the room (how they have all aged, dear reader, I'm the only one wearing well) that caused much chattering and laughter. And there was a quiz: trying to recall the real name of teachers we only really knew as Ratty Joe, Holy Joe or Psycho.
My fellow gangmaster and I were chuffed to bits by the response and the atmosphere. "The hard work paid off, then," he said. "Aye, in spades. But we stick to the plan." "Agreed."
The plan was to underline this was a one-off as we had said from the start; a never to be repeated production. And we would retire from the organising - going out on a high (school) at the end of the night. And so we did.
"Well, that plan lasted long, didn't it?" said my chum. "Och, sometimes it's best to be pragmatic and they were so nice aboot it a'. We surely couldnae say no?"
And so it came to pass that before we hud even went to the Post Office to collect oor pensions, oor fellow Former Pupils had encouraged us to come back - and organise the next one.
Pit it in the diary: 7 for 7.30 on Friday, June 3, 2011. The bookings are already coming in.
Charles Fletcher
charles.fletcher@caledoniamedia.com
