combine the tasks with those of the Vision Mixer, the Lighting Camera or Editor. ‘Shooting Directors’ (or ‘Shooter Directors’), for example, would work on location and record their own single-camera material.
In general, and for studioproductions, the Director might:
approve the script, suggesting amendments where appropriate;
in consultation with the Producer, make clear all the technical and design requirements for the project. In other words, he or she will ensure the project is properly planned . This includes approving the Designer’s plan, drafting or
In this edited collection, scholars use a variety of methodologies to explore the history of stage plays produced for British television between 1936 and the present. The volume opens with a substantial historical outline of the how plays originally written for the theatre were presented by BBC Television and the ITV companies as well as by independent producers and cultural organisations. Subsequent chapters analyse television adaptations of existing stage productions, including a 1937 presentation of a J. B. Priestley play by producer Basil Dean; work by companies including the Royal Shakespeare Company, Stoke-on-Trent’s Victoria Theatre and the Radical Alliance of Poets and Players; the verbatim dramas from the Tricycle Theatre and National Theatre of Scotland; and Mike Leigh’s comedy Abigail’s Party, originally staged for Hampstead Theatre and translated to the Play for Today strand in 1977. Broadcast television’s original productions of classic and contemporary drama are also considered in depth, with studies of television productions of plays by Jacobean dramatists John Webster and Thomas Middleton, and by Henrik Ibsen and Samuel Beckett. In addition, the volume offers a consideration of the contribution to television drama of the influential producer Cedric Messina who, between 1967 and 1977, oversaw BBC Television’s Play of the Month strand before initiating The BBC Television Shakespeare (1978–85); the engagement with television adaptations by modern editors of Shakespeare’s plays; and Granada Television’s eccentric experiment in 1969–70 of running The Stables Theatre Company as a producer for both stage and screen. Collectively, these chapters open up new areas of research for all those engaged in theatre, media and adaptation studies.
studioproduction of Beckett’s television plays in this range of contexts.
Some awareness of developments in television technology is needed in order to understand the significance of the television forms in Beckett’s television plays. Each of the plays was recorded in a studio, resulting in a high-quality videotape or film for later broadcast. There are few examples in existing scholarship that examine Beckett’s television plays in the light of their use of particular technical resources (see Homan 1992), though there are several analyses
As Carol Reed began to make his way in
films the British cinema in the 1930s was already characterised, on the one
hand, by the rise of the documentary tradition epitomised by Grierson and
Cavalcanti and, on the other, by popular genre-based, star-studded films and
studioproduction headed by moghuls like Alexander Korda. Reed’s
films, like those directed by Victor Saville, Alfred Hitchcock, Michael
There is no soundtrack is a specific yet expansive study of sound tactics deployed in experimental media art today. It analyses how audio and visual elements interact and produce meaning, drawing from works by contemporary media artists ranging from Chantal Akerman, to Nam June Paik, to Tanya Tagaq. It then links these analyses to discussions on silence, voice, noise, listening, the soundscape, and other key ideas in sound studies. In making these connections, the book argues that experimental media art – avant-garde film, video art, performance, installation, and hybrid forms – produces radical and new audio-visual relationships that challenge and destabilize the visually-dominated fields of art history, contemporary art criticism, cinema and media studies, and cultural studies as well as the larger area of the human sciences. This book directly addresses what sound studies scholar Jonathan Sterne calls ‘visual hegemony’. It joins a growing body of interdisciplinary scholarship that is collectively sonifying the study of culture while defying the lack of diversity within the field by focusing on practitioners from transnational and diverse backgrounds. Therefore, the media artists discussed in this book are of interest to scholars and students who are exploring aurality in related disciplines including gender and feminist studies, queer studies, ethnic studies, postcolonial studies, urban studies, environmental analysis, and architecture. As such, There Is No Soundtrack makes meaningful connections between previously disconnected bodies of scholarship to build new, more complex and reverberating frameworks for the study of art, media, and sound.
neglected, and given its commonalities with studio realism (rehearsal process, multi-camera
studioproduction –but with the added ingredient of a live audience) and the more recent move towards a single camera model,
this might provide some interesting contrasts and similarities. The
particular styles employed for other dramatic formats such as the
soap, the episodic drama and the single play also warrant investigation, and given the increased reliance in British drama schools
upon Stanislavski –so often confused with the ‘Method’ style of
C o n cl us io n
One live production to depart entirely from the studio realist
model was Frankenstein’s Wedding (BBC, 2011), a re-telling of Mary
Shelley’s gothic novel that combined drama, musical and audience
participation, and was broadcast in real time from Kirkstall Abbey
in Leeds. Rather than being a traditional studioproduction, director
Colin Teague’s cast and OB crew were required to perform a feat
that was arguably closer in nature to a live concert. The production
was subsequently nominated in the Sport and Live Event category
at the British Academy Television
as bourgeois, aesthetes and snobs (Pialat 1979: 9).
However, as Alain Bergala points out, rather than being elitist, the
critics of Cahiers hoped to persuade the general public to think about
film differently (Bergala 1998: 36). Godard celebrated the success of
François Truffaut’s Les Quatre Cents Coups and Alain Resnais’
Hiroshima mon amour at the Cannes Film Festival in 1959 as the first
steps towards victory over the ambitious studioproductions – generally
literary adaptations – that regularly won the prizes at Cannes, Venice
and elsewhere. Truffaut
redemptive readings of popular texts (Brundson 1990) and celebrations of popular pleasure which had begun to mark a shift in television criticism from the late 1970s onwards. The complexity of Beckett’s role at the BBC is an index of much wider cultural debates within broadcasting and in the arts in general.
So the changing emphases of Television Studies have reinforced the marginalisation of Beckett’s television work for three interconnected reasons. First, their strong authorial imprint, theatrical background and studioproduction associated
—all dramaturgical elements that potentially pose challenges
for successful television adaptation. As Sarah Cardwell ( 2014 ) has argued, adaptations of the same text
can produce markedly different aesthetic effects resulting from the
technological practices prevalent in different decades. As all but one of the adaptations are multi-camera
studioproductions, they particularly invite comparison of the ways in
which script, setting and