Memories of Alan Ward from Louise Willcox

Alan Ward in spring 2017. Photo by Louise Willcox, no reproduction without permission

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alan Ward, retired Senior Studio Manager specialising in serious music, passed away last Wednesday, 12th July 2017.   He died aged 85, peacefully, at his home.
Louise Willcox remained in touch with Alan after he retired and remembers his kindness well.

“I am a generation or so behind Alan in terms of my Audio Unit career and frankly, after Alan retired and moved to the New Forest, I thought that our paths might potentially never cross again.

Spool forward 20 years:  Alan’s lovely wife Rita had died, leaving him bereft.  Coincidentally, my daughter Heather was being employed by DSTL for a ‘year in industry’ before university.  Towards the end of that year, a mutual friend pointed out that DSTL was not far from where Alan lived, and Roger and I got in touch.  We and Heather took Alan out (or rather, he took us!) for the odd meal in one of the plethora of lovely eateries around the New Forest.  We kept in touch by phone and email, and a year later, when Heather was invited to spend her summer vacation continuing her work-placement, Alan stunned us by offering her accommodation at his beautifully appointed home – point blank refusing to let us pay him for it, and he’d got in touch with someone who could give her a lift into work!

Heather was a shy 20-year-old but, to my astonishment, said yes.  For four years she stayed with Alan during her summer placements – by year two she could drive and she would then share the driving (probably safer), going out for meals together – Alan making great play of having a 21-year-old on his arm!   He openly admitted that he had been lonely after his wife had died and that just having someone in the house (even if she was in her room on her computer all the time!) just helped.  They developed a firm friendship and Roger and I visited whenever we could.

Heather ultimately got a job at DSTL after university, and we have continued to visit Alan.  The last occasion was about four months ago, when it was clear Alan was becoming more frail.  He had lost none of his wicked sense of humour, though!

Towards the end, Alan had full-time care at home, and was becoming more confused due to his depleted oxygen levels.  I mention this only because, at one point Alan asked the family if they’d got enough XLR cables!  This will bring a smile to audio unit colleagues – the A. Ward Award – for emptying OB Stores of equipment – was apocryphal!   Alan’s family thought it was apt that towards the end, he was planning an OB.”

Louise Willcox

Freelance Sound Supervisor

 

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Alan Ward’s memoirs

Photo from Heather Saunders, no reproduction without permission

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alan Ward, retired senior studio manager, specialising in serious music, sadly died on Wednesday 12th July, aged 85. He enjoyed a long career at the BBC. Some years ago at the request of his family he wrote down a summary of his career, and how he became interested in music. It provides the history of a long and fulfilled career. Alan’s daughter, Heather, has given permission to post Alan’s brief autobiography here:

“Radio and the desire to work for the BBC came into my life when Dad bought our first wireless set (I’ve still got it) when I was very little and I put buttons as knobs on the box it came in, crawled inside and pretended to be an announcer.

Music came into my life when an Uncle, who had three seasons tickets for the Town Hall, often found that one of the family couldn’t go so invited me instead.

Then it was school and a year evacuated to Monmouth which I hated, so Dad brought me back home. At school there was one of the few middle aged male teachers (I discovered later that he didn’t get into the Services because he was gay) and he taught music. Most boys were uninterested but about five of us were and he gave us special teaching about the theory of music mainly.

After that came my first actual contact with the BBC when I was at Five Ways. Next door to the school was the BBC Bookshop and I went in one day intending to ask how I could join the BBC when a man came in, who I later discovered was a senior member of the BBC management called Pat Casey, and took me upstairs to his office. I told him what I wanted to do and he told me the sort of job I should be looking for, but then said that the BBC wouldn’t take anyone until they had finished their National Service.

So next it was being a junior clerk in an insurance company in Colmore Row and then into the Air Force.

They wanted me to go it to the pay corps and train to be an officer – I said NO, I wanted something to do with radio so they turned me into an Air Wireless mechanic repairing radios in aeroplanes that had broken – usually due to bad landings! After training I knew that I didn’t have the aptitude to be an engineer when I had that lowest mark possible without actually failing the course. I was sent to RAF St. Athan in Wales (I had asked for an overseas posting and I got it!!) where I hated it. I turned to the Church and the Padre who I told all abut my ambitions. He said that the camp had a serious morale problem and the C.O. wanted the camp loudspeaker system used to try and cheer people up. The trouble was no one would run it as it meant getting up earlier than anyone else just to wake them up at reveille. When I heard that there was a small studio involved I said – Yes, I’ll do it. It started as just playing music, mainly the big bands that were the rage at the time, such as Stan Kenton, but I realised that there was a demand for information, especially about where people could go when they were off duty. So I started doing the rounds in Cardiff, Swansea and the nearby town of Llantwit Major finding out about events there and building it up into programmes. I took a Civil Service Commission exam (I had totally failed all my School Certs bar three) but did virtually no engineering work, but still got promoted as though I had.

Back to civvy street after two years I couldn’t get anywhere with the BBC and became a cashier at the Municipal Bank. I tried every advert going including one for a temporary sound effects man to work on a programme that was going to have a six week try-out on the Midland Region. It was called “The Archers”!!.. I didn’t get the job but the chap who did was to become a great friend and help to me.

Eventually I saw a job advertised for a recording engineer (what ever that was) in the BBC in London. I realise that the “bogus” qualifications I had come out of the Air Force with gave me a chance for the job and I got it with the hope (completely wrong) that once in I would be able to transfer to the job I really wanted.

In those days programme were recorded on acetate discs and I was sent to the Overseas Service in Oxford Street and seemed to do reasonably well. However it was only a trial post and after two years I had to take an engineering course and only if I passed could I stay in the BBC. However it soon became obvious that the Air Force were right and I was not cut out to be an engineer, and after the two years I failed the course and was told I had to go. However, they said that, although my technical knowledge was appalling, my practical work was good and if I would consider taking a job that was going to mean being away from all my colleagues and working on my own in a new Channel (the name they called a room with recording gear in, which now included the new magnetic tape machines) – if I would consider that they would keep me. Would I consider it!! They sent me to Aeolian Hall in New Bond Street, the home of Variety Department which meant working on and mixing with those involved with such programmes as Take It From Here, The Goons, Hancocks Half-Hour, Life With the Lyons, Educating Archie and many more. Further more, since another engineer and I (we covered an 16-hour shift) were on our own we were able to experiment with lots of ideas that engineers weren’t supposed to be involved in, that had to do with the actual making of the programmes in the first place – just the sort of job I was always hoping for.

Aeolian Hall attracted people, especially secretaries, who were star struck and made themselves (as they thought) glamorous and attractive to the famous. One programme I worked on editing was “Semprini Serenade” and the girl who was the producer’s secretary was not like the others, she had lovely dark hair, hardly wore any makeup, was quiet and modest but also very efficient and attractive. I slowly got drawn towards her.

In the mean time my life was one of doing my shift at work and then going and spending the rest of the day in studios watching the studio managers at work – they were the people who mixed the microphones together and played sounds into programmes from records and tapes – THAT was the job I had always wanted. To get it I had to pass a preliminary interview and if successful, go on to a board for the job itself. But every time I applied I was rejected at the first interview mainly because I didn’t have a degree.

I also spent a lots of my time with a BBC amateur drama group who made plays as though they were being broadcast – we were allowed to use the studios if they weren’t being used for proper programmes. This way I continued learning the job I wanted because most people in the group wanted to be actors whilst I was happy to do the programme operations. Then one day Val Gielgud (Brother of John and Head of the BBC drama department), came to us and said that he had an experimental idea which he would like to try out and would the Group do it for him. Of course we would and of course everyone else wanted to act for the great man. I therefore had the chance to do all the mixing of the programme material and at the end of it Val Gielgud said to me, that was good, why aren’t you a Studio Manager, which of course was what I really wanted. I told him that I kept on being refused so he said leave it to him and sure enough, next time I applied for the job I got a board and then got the job. Bliss.

By now it was the late 1950’s and just as I began to really learn my trade Dad had a stroke and was left paralysed. The BBC immediately transferred me to Birmingham and, since by then I had got my self engaged to the lovely Aeolian Hall secretary, the BBC said that when we got married they would transfer her to Birmingham as well.

When I got to the Midlands there was no post for me and therefore no work ready for me to do. I was asked therefore to go and see an eccentric, difficult but absolutely brilliant producer called Charles Parker. He was creating a new totally different type of programme called Radio Ballads which involved recording hundreds of people about their every day lives and building the results into folk music style ballads. This meant using a brand new invention – a tape machine that was small enough to be carried around, and then using techniques that were totally unheard of and which we largely invented ourselves. I got totally drawn into them and the second balled I was involved in was called “Singing the Fishing” and was about the East Coast and Scottish herring fishing industry. The programme was an absolute sensation when it was broadcast and went on to be heard all over the world and won the Italia Prize, which was an annual prize awarded to the best radio programme produced anywhere in the world. There has since been a book written about how we did these programmes and they are still occasionally broadcast and I still get drawn in about them, most recently to a seminar at Bournemouth University and in the book that has just been produced.

When they decided to start dance band and pop programmes in Birmingham there was no one who knew anything about the mixing of the microphones needed so my boss said well you worked with these people in London you do it now. I protested and said that my real love was classical music, but he had his way and I had a great time with all these bands because being a small region we got to know the musicians personally. So it was that when two years later my boss said he wanted me to move to drama I protested because I loved the bands so much and this also included working with the BBC Midland Light Orchestra and a wonderful conductor called Gilbert Vinter. But drama it was, and so my education was being slowly widened. Then the amount of serious music was increased with the addition of two more producers which meant that became the world for me.

I then spent about twenty years in which I was heavily involved with all the Three Choirs Festivals and even more to the point with the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra for whom I did nearly all their broadcasts for radio and latterly for television. It was wonderful and I was so proud and pleased to be doing it, for this was the orchestra from whom I had discovered music in my childhood. There were a lot of other concerts and recitals for we had a very good serious music studio in Pebble Mill. This meant working with, getting to know and, most of all, learning from, some of the greatest musicians around.

But the BBC was changing and sound operations, there were just thirteen of us, (and by now my boss had retired and I had taken his place), were to be merged with television sound. I bitterly opposed the way this was going to be done as I believed it to be unworkable, however to my horror I found myself appointed to be head of the whole shenanigan. I revolted and said NO – I would rather take a step backwards and go on just doing operational work making programmes and it was the best decision I ever made work wise. The chap who got the job, had a break down after six months, his marriage failed and the equivalent manger in Manchester also had a break down and then a fatal heart attack – I was well out of it, but now the senior operations man. I carried on with music programmes and had some marvellous experience – one of which was the chance to go to Los Angeles. A live television broadcast of the CBSO was planned from there and it was to be handled by an American Television Company. However, when people went out from here to check what was going to be needed they discovered that there was no one amongst the television team who had either done any vision mixing or sound mixing for a symphony concert. As one American engineer said to me the trouble is you can’t put adverts every ten minutes into a Sibelius symphony. So it was agreed that the vision mixer and studio manger would come from the BBC and Simon Rattle, bless his heart, said that he wanted me to do it – and what Simon said, was done.

And so my life went on – I arranged it that my last programme before retirement would be the Royal opening of Symphony Hall since I had had a lot of involvement with the sound services that went into it. But it wasn’t to be. I had some years previously put two discs out of my spine lifting a rostrum and matters were getting more and more painful until my doctor said that I should talk to the BBC about retirement because if I carried on I was likely to be unable to move by the time I was 65. I went to London and saw the chief medial officer who gave me the option of retiring immediately on full pension or, if I really wanted to, carrying on working.  I had no option, so in 1990 I retired, although the CBSO invited me to carrying on working for them on their archives.”

Alan Ward

 

The following comments were left on the Pebble Mill Facebook page:

Pete Simpkin: ‘Wonderful story by a very talented and excellent man, one of the BBC Treasures. He was most helpful in helping the late Barry Lankester and I start to record our annual Brass Band competitions at Pebble Mill for Radio Birmingham/WM.’

Andy Freeth: ‘I did my first OB with Alan in 1985. Wolverhampton Civic Hall, crawling around the attic in my best suit! Always enjoyed working with him.’

Jane Ward: ‘He really was lovely…! And, although we weren’t related, we always used to let people think we were…!’

Carolyn Davies: ‘Lovely man, a real gent, taught so many of us in Audio Unit.’

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Colin Pierpoint blog 10 – Pebble Mill

Pebble Mill building circa 1970, copyright resides with the original holder, no reproduction without permission

Pebble Mill building circa 1970, copyright resides with the original holder, no reproduction without permission

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was one of the first people to work in Pebble Mill Studios, because all the Midland sound editing facilities were in mono at the time, and some orchestral concerts were being recorded at OBs in stereo. In fact, the Producers like Richard Butt, had to travel to London to edit their programmes. I did try to tell the management that there were stereo editing channels at Wood Norton, a lot closer, but I don’t think they understood. (These days, Wood Norton would have jumped at the chance to charge for hiring out editing facilities, but this was before Total Costing, Producer Choice, and department Business Units. Not that I am saying these were necessarily a good thing). So, when the Pebble Mill building was nearing completion, we were allowed to use the cubicle of Studio 1 for tape editing.

To be fair, I must mention another of my disasters. I was using the new Studer tape machines in Studio 1, B62 I think. I had previously used the Studer C37 at Wood Norton on attachment as an Assistant Lecturer, but I was caught out by a feature of the new machine where the wind will inch back and too, but will lock on if you have pressed the stop button beforehand. Anyway, I mangled a tape of an orchestra. The producer, Ron Gardener kindly allowed me to keep the reel while I sorted it out. In fact I had everything except one chord of music, and I built that from copying other bits of the performance and editing them together. A few days later, I played this to Ron, who said that he would have accepted that, but he had since found that Alan Ward, the Studio Manager who recorded it, had a 7 and a half ips copy recorded at the time of the performance. So we used that just for one phrase, about a bar of music. Ron Gardener then very kindly said that I had done good work for him in the past and he was prepared to overlook it. Nice of him to say that, and the only tape I ever damaged, but I did let myself down.

Colin Pierpoint

The following comments were left on the Pebble Mill Facebook page:

Carolyn Davies: “Colin, was this why future trainee Audio Assistants had to editing in a missing phrase of music as part of their 1/4″ editing training at Wood Norton?? Great story…”

Andy Freeth: “lan Ward’s OB stores equipment list was always “one and a spare!” Hardly surprising that there was another recording ferreted away Colin!”

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Good Morning with Anne and Nick – D-Day

Copyright resides with the original holder, no reproduction without permission.

Copyright resides with the original holder, no reproduction without permission.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Today it is the 70th Anniversary of D-Day, the beginning of the end of WWII.

I remember the 50th Anniversary of D-Day in 1994. I was an assistant producer on Good Morning with Anne and Nick. The D-Day Anniversary was an important topic for Good Morning, and one that we wanted to cover with a live outside broadcast from Normandy. I think that we were going to borrow an existing BBC Events OB unit which was going to be covering some of the events later in the day. They initially said that that was going to be fine, and then decided a day or two before D-Day that they would be too busy to help us out, so we had to organise our own OB!

My job was to be the producer back in Birmingham, in case anything went wrong. We had a whole parallel script made up of links and short films, to go to, if the OB link went down. I think that Will Hanrahan was one of the standby presenters, and I can’t remember who else joined him on the sofa. I was ever so slightly terrified, as I had never produced a live show in the gallery before – but all was well, and the OB signal behaved itself, and I just sat in Gallery C, and followed the dummy running order and script I’d spent days perfecting, alongside the live OB.

Vanessa Jackson

The following comments were left on the Pebble Mill Facebook Page:

Sharon Fisher: ‘I remember! My first OB. Vidal Sassoon was being interviewed and I was busy doing specially printed red white and blue viewer response cards.’

Caroline Feldon: ‘My first OB was for Radio 3 at the Cheltenham Festival. A week or so of fab concerts at the Town Hall and Pittville Pump Room with legends such as Mark Decker, Tony Wass, Steve Portnoi and anyone remember Alan Ward?’

Paul Hunt: ‘Tom Horsfield and I were there in 1994 by Southsea castle looking out across the Solent with Tony Wadsworth and Julie Mayer to do a live OB for WM. We had a very early start to do our rig – once done we had some time to take in the immense scale of what we part of and what we were remembering. Tom then took some photos of the flotilla of ships including the Canberra, the QE2 and the George Washington aircraft carrier. The OB went without a hitch. As we de-rigged we discovered that Tom’s camera had been stolen from the OB van – which put a sad end to such a memorable event.’

Katie Wright: ‘I think you’re thinking of the Dunkirk anniversary Vanessa Jackson. We were on board HMS Alacrity, escorting the little ships across from Dover to Calais…. Phil Thickett was with me.. And Helena Taylor. My father was on the beaches and it was a real honour to remember him and all the others and the many who risked their own lives to rescue them. We had to get Alacrity to sail at a strange angle to keep ‘line of sight’ to our vehicle on the white cliffs, which would explain why you were on standby throughout. ‘