BBC New Broadcasting House and the riddle of the 8th floor.

Yesterday found me traversing our capital city on my way to collect my network news ID card that allows unfettered access to the largest newsroom in Europe. Having been offered the chance of freelance shifts, i had to go to BBC New Broadcasting House in London...

BBC New Broadcasting House...

 I could now walk the corridors and meeting rooms of the BBC. I could watch John Humphrys eat a doughnut, see Huw Edwards on his cigarette break behind the bike shed, or look longingly into the eyes of Sophie Raworth over a hot frothy latte in the canteen as she flicks her golden locks over her shoulder, coyly smiles at me and pats the seat next to her with her ruby red polished fingernails glinting under the lights, before she... ahem...

Sorry, i was typing out loud again...

Anyway, having picked up my sparkly new ID, showing your author in a smart pose with a coquettish smile and chiselled, lantern jawed features, i followed on to the BBC New Broadcasting House induction lecture. The induction lecture, i was told, would teach us where all the good parties are, followed by a free champagne lunch, a chat with the Director General and AAA passes to the next Glastonbury festival.

Someone obviously had a sense of humour...

I did in fact, learn what to do in the event of fire or other unforseen disasters, where the toilets were, how to open and close the doors without giving yourself a severe injury and basically not to act like a dick in front of the studios where you could be captured on camera behind the newsreaders.

They also told us what departments were on which floor. Reception and production areas on the ground floor, newsroom and studios on -1 and -2 and the cameramen on -3 next to the bins. Floors 1 to 7 contained various news departments and show production areas for TV, Radio and online and on floor 8, the cool and hip Radio 1.

We had access to anywhere... Except floor 8, where a 'special' pass is required. I have no idea why, but my imagination was piqued and started to wander from the explanation of how to use the spiral staircase without going dizzy and killing yourself.

My guess is that it's because Radio 1 plays host to super hot rock and pop stars who don't want to be bothered by the ungodly proles that inhabit the lesser levels. That and the free flow of champagne and expensive brandy, along with a phallanx of lovely looking rock chicks and hipsters, a jar of nutella and a warm spoon. But that's just a guess mind you... Or 'speculation' as we in the news industry call it. So i decided to try and find out, there and then...

8th Floor reception, BBC NBH, Thursday, about tea time:

Me: "Hello, i'm new here... Is this where i can find the BBC Sartorial Elegance Department..?"

Receptionist: "Maybe... Did Robert Peston send you..?"

Me: "Err... No. It's just that i would..."

Receptionist: "Have you got your 'special' pass..?"

Me: (Reveals jar of Nutella and a spoon) "I was given these, and..."

Receptionist: "Get out... Or i'll call security."

Well i tried... So in the interests of you, my faithful readers, i shall over the coming months endeavor to find out the truth of the 8th floor and the goings on that necessitate the requirement of a 'special' pass. As you know, here at the ukcameraman Institute of TV News Studies i never give up on rooting out the truth wherever it hides, and if the truth eludes me then i could always speculate further.

So if you should see me hovering around the lifts on Floor 7 with a jar of Nutella and a large serving spoon, keep schtum... I'll get back to you.

Paul Martin is @ukcameraman on Twitter.

So... Who Are You..?

It was an innocent enough question from the lanky G4S Olympic security spod who blocked my way to where i wanted to be here at the Olympic Games. Just doing his job… But the intricacies of a freelancers TV life are not, i assume, part of the training for the G4S Olympic door security course 101. You see, us freelance cameramen can lead a confusing life as to who we are actually working for, when so many TV companies are in the hiring and firing loop. International man of mystery… That's me.

"Your papers please..."  *using comedy German accent.

I approached with my Olympic accreditation at the ready, which quite clearly stated that i was working for Razor TV.  Door spod, impressively alert, then spotted my Press card with the BBC logo dangling from my waistband… He did his job, spotting an anomaly in my identification papers.

However, I must admit that the piss taking, wind up merchant within me reared it's ugly head. I smelled blood and decided to see just how far i could go before the door spod's head burst, or i was dragged away by LOCOG henchmen to Lord Coe's London dungeons and a kicking from Mayor BoJo. 

Door Spod: "It says there that you are with the BBC…"

Me: "Yes, it's my press card, which is issued via the BBC. I'm not working for them today though… I'm working for Razor TV"

Door spod: "Razor TV huh… Not the BBC..?"

Me: "That's right, Razor TV… via the Associated Press"

I could see a dark cloud of confusion descend on door spods face. His too close together eyes narrowed. I could almost hear the clanking of the wheels inside his head as he tried to make sense of what i had just told him. And then he asked me another question…

Door spod: " So… Let me get this straight. Who are you filming for today..?"

Me: "The Chinese…"

As soon as the words spilled from my lips i realised what i had done and now door spod was in a state of complete and utter confusion. He looked at me. He looked again at my accreditation. He looked again at my press pass.

Door spod: " So… Err… Who exactly are you..? And who do you work for..?

Me: "Oh, right… I'm Paul Martin, Media Attention Ltd."

Door spod: " 'Scuse me..?"

I stood there as straight faced as i could. Door spod was a pleasant enough chap and i couldn't inflict any more witty repartee upon his already overloaded security brain.

Me: " OK… Look… Sorry... I'm Paul Martin of Media Attention Ltd, which is my company. I have been hired by Razor TV to film for the Associated Press who, in turn, have been hired by Chinese TV to supply me to film stuff for them. My press pass is issued on behalf of the UK Press Card Authority, via the BBC to accredit me as a bona-fide news gatherer in the UK… Does that make sense..?

Door spod: "Ah right… OK… So who are you working for again..?"

Me: "Razor TV, AP, Chinese…"

This was the tipping point. Door spod was either going to call his supervisor, or make a lone decision. I stood there, expressionless, having realised that G4S door spod had actually done a good job and questioned me, at length as to who i was after spotting the accreditation / Press pass anomaly… and he hadn't let me through yet. He checked my passes once more.

Door spod: "OK… On you go then. Have a good day…"

Phew… Result.

Paul Martin is @ukcameraman on Twitter.

www.media-attention.co.uk

Accredited for the M.E.S.S.

The next few weeks could get awfully confusing for us TV and Press types. Today i travelled into London to sign for my Press and Cameraman accreditation, which in itself, was a surprisingly easy task. My name was on the list and i was set to go.

Press accreditation. ( Security Guard I.D. not included. )

Many of you will know that a Major Event of Summer Sports ( M.E.S.S. ) is going through security and copyright issues. The security issue being a lack of security bods leading to Her Majesties Forces being drafted in to cover the shortfalls. This i have called the Big Insecure Gateways of the Major Event of Summer Sports. ( B.I.G.M.E.S.S. ) So, why am i calling it the Major Event of Summer Sports ( M.E.S.S. )? Well, due to what appears to be an alarming clampdown on companies associating themselves with copyrighted Logo's, words and images of the M.E.S.S. it would appear that i may come a cropper if i, or my company, associate myself with this M.E.S.S. that other, much larger companies and conglomerates have paid millions of pounds to be sponsors of the M.E.S.S. Following so far...? Good.

So, i can't say that i am filming the Olym, 2012, Games, M.E.S.S. without illegally using words or phrases that have been paid for handsomely to associate with. I can't show the logo's or anything else without the fear of being hanged upside down outside the LOCOG's ( London Organising Committee of the Olym Gam ) offices. See..? Confusing.

As for security, it appears that i may have to become my own security guard.* I will turn up at the M.E.S.S. and stop myself at the B.I.G.M.E.S.S, quiz myself as to my intentions, frisk and pat myself down including a deft but confident squeeze of the groin area, check my own camera equipment and then, following a few Umm's and Ahh's, refuse myself entry for no apparent reason because i have not been trained to do so.

It may appear that my name will not be on my own list. Bloody security.

*May contain lies.

Paul Martin is @ukcameraman on Twitter

www.media-attention.co.uk