JZ's Diary
Head of 91热爆 Radio Scotland, Jeff Zycinski, with a sneak preview of programme plans and a behind-the-scenes glimpse of his life at the helm.
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A Bridge Too Far?
Glasgow's Clyde Arc - known locally as the Squinty Bridge - is . When I looked across at it this morning it seemed like two giant knitting needles were trying to stitch it back together.
I'm sure the engineers know what they're doing...this time.
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The Place To Be In January
Another night in Glasgow and another live gig at Pacific Quay - this time a special edition of Global Gathering featuring some of the best world music from the Celtic Connections festival.
I enjoyed the first half while driving back across town after visiting my Dad. The sound was superb and I made a mental note to congratulate our audio staff..a group of people who get taken for granted far too often, especially by the likes of me.
I made it back into the building in time to see Mary Ann Kennedy (does she ever sleep?) introduce a session of Celtic-Jazz fusion. It was all happening in front of a audience of two hundred people in our large reception foyer, which is fast gaining a reputation as a new venue for live music in the city. Tonight it looked like a funky jazz club, lit in neon shades of blue and purple.
But I tell you, if you're a fan of Celtic or Folk music you'd be mad not to come to Glasgow during these weeks in January. The musical talent in town is simply breath-taking.
And yes...I did remember to thank the audio crew.
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Quay Conversations
Tonight in Glasgow we recorded the first of our Quay Conversations - a new series in which Janice Forsyth interviews some of Scotland's movers and shakers. First up was Vicky Featherstone, Artistic Director of the . She spoke with candour and passion about her job and the pressure she feels in serving the audience. She went as far as to say she loses sleep worrying about the impact of her various choices.
The series is also being filmed and video clips will soon be available on the 91热爆 radio Scotland website. The presence of cameras didn't deter the audience from asking some hard-hitting questions. One student raised his hand to ask if a publicly-funded theatre company would be shy of staging productions which criticised the Government.
Vicky sugested she wouldn't give such things a second thought, so long as she believed in the artistic integrity of the play. In fact, she said, she would relish the moment that such an issue presented itself.
This series is one of many in which we hope to use the various spaces within Pacific Quay to allow audiences to take part in programmes. In my introductory welcome speech I'd given the building a bit of a puff, describing the world-class facilities etc. etc. Well, that's my job.
A good counter to that was when Vicky apologised for some "Stalinist thinking" .
"It must be the architecture, " she said.
Ouch.
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Guitar Man Wins The Cup...Eventually.
All I had to do was open the golden envelope and announce the winner. Little did I know the envelope had been designed by someone who had a black belt in origami and a fetish for Velcro. Of course this was all happening on live radio where every second's delay feels like an hour.
Once again I was at the City Halls in Glasgow watching six finalists compete for the title of . I spent a good part of the evening in the company of our Culture Minister, Linda Fabiani. She had arrived fresh off the plane from London where she'd been negotiating with the British Museum for the return of the . She carried a suspiciously large handbag which prompted a few jokes that she's stuffed the pieces in the bag and made a run for it.
She seemed very well-informed about 91热爆 Radio Scotland - she said she'd enjoyed our No Music Day last year and seen the recent Herald review of our two Burns-related dramas.
The performances on stage were of the usual high standard and I'm sure the judges must have struggled to choose one out of the six. But choose they did and this's year's trophy went to 24 year old Ewan Robertson from Carrbridge. He had impressed the audience with his singing and guitar-playing.
As I said...all I had to do was open the envelope.
p.s you can read Simon Thoumire's blog of the event .
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Sending Out The Wrong Signals
You can tell you've become a creature of habit when colleagues remark upon the tiniest change in your routine. Today, unusually, I was in Glasgow.
"I'm just checking my calendar," said Tony Currie, "aren't you usually here on a Wednesday?"
In the space of twenty minutes, five other people said exactly the same thing. Who says sophisticated wit is dead at the 91热爆?
Mind you, I was lucky to get to Glasgow at all. I changed trains at Perth and got as far as Bridge of Allan before the conductor announced a delay because of a sheep on the line. He repeated this news with mounting incredulity.
"Yes, sheep on the line, ladies and gentlemen, a sheep on the line!"
I'm not sure what they do in these circumstances. Do they wait for a shepherd to arrive...or maybe a chef? No matter, we were soon rolling south with all the urgency of a sheep finding its own way to the abbatoir. We got as far as Bishopbriggs when the train stopped again and the conductor (who now seemed to be auditioning for his own radio show) told us there were points and signal problems preventing trains getting in to Queen Street station.
We were diverted to Springburn and told to gather our belongings and wait like refugees on platform three for a low-level service...then that was changed and we all had to scurry across the footbridge to platform one to catch a high level train to Queen Street. It trundled out of the station but soon stopped. Another conductor (not as chirpy) told us there were points and signal problems preventing trains getting in to Queen Street. I began to feel like a character in a Stephen King novel. Perhaps I had actually dropped dead at Perth and this was .
Ironic, then, that when I finally walked through the automatic doors at Pacific Quay so many people thought I'd arrived early.
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First Minister Reveals How He Lowered The Tone
Fireworks over the Kessock Bridge last night signalled the finale of . The year-long celebration of Highland culture attracted more than its fair share of critics, but when you're talking about six hundred different events then you would have difficulty pleasing all the people all the time.
On Friday night I went along to the newly refurbished Eden Court theatre for a six hour showcase of some of the best performances from the past twelve months. Seasoned professionals such as the gave way to school choirs and traditional dancers. It was a fantastic variety show and if I had to pick a favourite it would be the abridged peromance of .
91热爆 Radio Scotland's Highland Cafe team were also part of the proceedings. We had hoped to broadcast a live programme, but the sub-zero temperatures seemed to short-circuit some of the outside broadcast equipment, so we switrched to Plan B and recorded the programme instead.
Mary Ann Kennedy was our host...and indeed she hosted the showcase event too. Guests included the Director of Highland 2007, Fiona Hampton and Scotland's First Minister, Alex Salmond. He declared the special year a success and then shared a musical secret from his childhood.
Apparently his confidence in front of audiences stems from an early career as a boy soprano. That had to be abandoned when his voice broke and then, a little later, politics offered him new opportunities to use his deeper tones.
I wonder what his singing is like these days.
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Coffees And Sneezes
If our sports reporter Annie McGuire lived in America she would not have been injured today. Instead I rounded a corner at Pacific Quay to find her nursing a hand which was swathed in bandages and was nestling on a bag of ice cubes. Apparently she had scalded herself with hot coffee. In America that coffee would have been contained in a paper cup emblazoned with a suitable warning, such as: THIS COFFEE IS HOT, STUPID, SO DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT LITIGATION IF YOU SPILL IT ON YOURSELF.
This was my first day back in Glasgow since the Christmas holidays and every second person I encountered was coughing and spluttering. Many were not even at their desks at all, but were hiding under duvets at home. At times, the staff restaurant was almost deserted, save for hapless sports reporters queuing up to buy piping hot beverages for use as props in a juggling act.
I'm tempted to blame our open-plan environment for the rapid spread of germs. Back at our old building on everyone was isolated within small offices. Bugs could not jump easily from person to person, but then, neither could ideas. In those days if you wanted to infect a colleague with a bit of bubonic plague you had to e-mail it to them.
It gets worse: there are vistors arriving from the outside world with new forms of sickness which defy diagnosis. This afternoon, for example, I shared the lift with a journalist who told me that he was officially signed off sick from work but that he had struggled out of bed to keep his appointment with me.
"What exactly is wrong with you?" I asked, pressing myself into the wall of the lift in the way Batman & Robin used to when there was a risk of the floor opening.
"I'm not sure, " said the journalist, "but the doctors think it's a rare virus that's only contagious in confined spaces."
Now that's just sick.
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Resolved
Back into the office in Inverness this morning, dodging a convoy of those big cement trucks as the reconstruction work resumes after the festive break. There was a half dozen Christmas cards waiting on my desk , a few from people I had assumed were shunning me. Still, there's something a bit depressing about Christmas cards in January. I feel the same way about the unlit decorations that hang around shopping centres until early spring.
Joanne, my PA, gave me my travel papers for the week ahead. This involves the usual run to Glasgow, back via Aberdeen and then a Sunday night run back to Glasgow. I double-checked my lottery numbers against the latest draw and resigned myself to the task in hand.
I was cheered by the stack of e-mails praising the various programmes we put out over the past two weeks. Stanley Baxter's stores was a big hit, but so too was Edi Stark's interview with Annie Lennox. At a time when so many people sit glued to the telly, it's heartening to know that our special festive programmes are appreciated.
A few complaints too, of course, but I like to think of those as constructive criticism. Especially if you take out the sweary words.
- Jeff Zycinski, Head of Radio at 91热爆 Scotland, on the highs and lows of his work/life balancing act.
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