radio star

When I lived in Utah the local radio station would switch to the BBC World Service at midnight. After a brief period of static silence, the resounding boom of Big Ben would signal the temporary take-over of the English. Next, the solemn voice of the anchor, so different from anything on US airwaves, would announce the time. It was always five o'clock, and I would hear the morning news before going to bed. There was considerable magic to the setup, as close to time travel as possible.

The BBC, not only the source of nocturnal news in foreign lands but also the world's largest broadcaster, calls London its home. The Television Centre is located less than half a mile from where I live. When I moved in, one of the first things I heard about were tours at the BBC, the major attraction my neighborhood has to offer, but only yesterday did I, at long last, exploit this proximity and visit the BBC for recession-busting free entertainment.

It was only fair, given that I don't own a TV, that I had got tickets to a radio show. Counterpoint is advertised as a humorous classical music quiz, and even though I had never heard of it, I was considerably excited and very curious. I had never been inside a radio station or witnessed the making of show. What would it be like? Would there be stage hands with cardboard signs telling the audience when to hoot, holler or cheer. Would applause be mandatory and laughter on cue? Or would it be a boring geezer show proceeding in near silence?

To gain entrance to the building, we had to go through security gates identical to those at an airport – belts, watches and cell phones to be removed for x-raying. Then each of us got a little sticker that identified us as part of the inventory for the next two hours and a half. We made our way through dark and utterly featureless corridors until we came to a small room with a bar but not enough chairs for everyone. We were told to wait for an hour, and the drinks weren't free. The evening didn't promise to hold much fun.

It got much better once we were ushered into the Radio Theatre, the main venue for music and speech programs. On the stage were two tables, one for three contestants in the quiz and the other for the host, Paul Gambaccini, a judge and arbiter, and a scorekeeper. Before the show started, the producer told us to be ourselves, to clap when something deserved it, to laugh when something was funny, and to pay good attention to the scorekeeper whose job is also was to trigger applause from us on occasions when it was deemed essential.

When the three contestants, an elderly lady and two gentlemen, settled into their chairs, it became clear we'd have a good time. All three looked like caricatures, like friendless hermits with unappreciated talents. The guy who eventually won, a self-described artists, had the appearance of a gnome from the woods. His speech was marginal, as if he conversed only with animals and some lucky plants.

The lights dimmed, the Counterpoint theme played, the host greeted the nation to wild cheers from the audience, and then the show started. It might not sound like it, but it was funny, and we laughed a lot. Most questions were about classical music, but broad musical knowledge was required for high scores. In one sections, Woody Guthrie was the answer to a question, and Pete Seeger was in the next, followed by Odetta.

This was not a live show, and there were a lot of little snafus. They were funnier than anything the candidates said, but will be gone in the final version. When the judge intervened, questions had to be repeated. Sometimes the producer, linked by radio to the scorekeeper, made a contestant repeat an answer. The host exploited all interruptions to entertain the audience.

At the end of the recording was a little break, after which the whole thing started again. Another episode, taped right after the first. I liked the format and was eager to continue. While I hardly ever guessed an answer right, I heard a lot of music worth checking out. For this, to write down the titles and broaden my musical horizon, I'll make sure to tune in when the show airs, sometime before then end of March. I also like to find out whether my boisterous laugh was edited out.