Happy #Eurovision2021 everybody! Apart from the songs #Eurovision itself was a pioneering and often chaotic attempt to collaborate on new technology across Europe. And it only happened because of Queen Elizabeth ll.
Let's look back at the birth of European broadcasting...
After WWll Britain and France quickly restated their TV services. Each had different standards: the BBC's 405-line standard quickly allowed for full national coverage, but France's 819-line format needed more powerful transmitters which reduced its broadcast range.
And by 1950 Holland had a TV service using a 625-line standard. However Belgium was caught in the middle: should it use the Dutch or French standard? In a classic euro-fudge it chose both. This made Belgium a pioneer of TV broadcast signal conversion.
On 13 February 1950, broadcasters from 23 European nations met in Torquay to create a common market for TV programme exchanges: the European Broadcasting Union (EBU).
It was a bureaucratic nightmare - nobody could agree anything and everyone objected to something.
The term #Eurovision was coined by the Evening Standard newspaper in 1951 to describe the EBU's efforts. Frustrated with its slow progress the UK and France set up their own cross-channel live link in 1952, broadcasting a week's worth of programmes in both countries.
But broadcasting live TV across Europe's patchwork of networks was a huge challenge. Before the launch of Telstar in 1962 overland links were needed between transmitters. Signal conversion between the 3 European standards also had to happen. That was tricky - and expensive.
In 1952 the BBC decided to make the upcoming live broadcast of Queen Elizabeth's coronation available across Europe, building on the success of their 1952 cross-channel pilot. Six nations agreed to take part. However they only told the EBU of their plans in 1953.
The EBU was furious: the BBC were stealing #Eurovision from them! In fact the EBU had produced very little in its first two years except arguments, but it aggressively muscled in on the Coronation plan and demanded the BBC/RTF infrastructure stay in place after the broadcast.
To be fair to the BBC it did share a lot of its experience and knowledge with the EBU in the 1950s, especially on outside live broadcasts. As for the Coronation, the ramshackle cross-Europe TV network wobbled, but it worked: #Eurovision was a reality.
The next EBU conference in London discussed how to build on the Coronation success. They agreed to a 1954 Summer Season of 18 live programmes broadcast across eight counties, including nine matches from the World Cup in Switzerland. It would be a mammoth undertaking.
A control centre was set up in Lille town hall to co-ordinate 41 relay stations, three signal converters and 44 transmitters across 5,000 miles of Europe. On 6 June 1954 #Eurovision formally launched with the Narcissus Festival parade from Montreux, followed by the Pope.
Making #Eurovision 1954 was stressful: getting equipment through customs was a nightmare; complex negotiations were needed with musicians around royalties; OB cameras battled with local authorities for access to the best filming spots. Executives soon dubbed it 'Neurovision.'
But the public approved of the effort. Most countries had only one or two broadcasters showing domestic programmes, so #Eurovision was a genuine 'window on Europe.' The idea that shared live TV could make previously warring nations better understand each other was a powerful one.
The main problem with Eurovision however was what to broadcast: apart from sport what had international appeal regardless of national language? In January 1955 Eurovision executives met to discuss a new idea: a European Cup for amateur variety artists - the Top Town Programme!
Fortunately they also discussed another idea, a European song contest - the Eurovision Grand Prix. Lugano in Switzerland was selected as the venue, even though it had no TV reception or transmitter. Switzerland's only outside broadcast van was sent from Zürich to cover the event.
The first Eurovision Grand Prix was broadcast live on 24 May 1956 to 10 countries. Seven nations fielded singers, performing two songs each. An international jury in the studio awarded up to 10 points for each song. The winner was Switzerland's Lys Assia with the song 'Refrains.'
Eurovision has since become a worldwide broadcasting phenomenon, and it's easy to laugh at its cheesy format and often baffling song choices. But it was a monumental technical effort to make it happen at all. #Eurovision - Twitter salutes you!
In the 1970s a fascinating engineering battle took place between America and Japan for control of the future. The prize was the world we live in now. And one of the key battles took place on your wrist.
This is the story of the digital watch...
'Digital' is a magical marketing word. Like 'laser' or 'turbo' it suggests progress, mastery and the future. People like those ideas. They like them enough to spend a lot of money on products that have them, especially if they can be a first adopter.
And so it was with the wristwatch. Electronic quartz watches were already a thing by the 1960s: an analogue movement driven by a quartz crystal resonator, powered by a small button battery.
But one American company was setting out on a new timekeeping odyssey...
Today in pulp... let's look back at a Shōjo manga artist whose work celebrated friendships between women: Jun'ichi Nakahara.
Jun'ichi Nakahara was born in Higashikagawa in 1913 and worked as an illustrator, a fashion designer and a doll maker. His work is highly regarded in Japan and he was a significant influence on modern manga art.
In the '20s and '30s Nakahara often drew for Shōjo no Tomo ("Girl's Friend") magazine. The style at the time was for demure, dreamlike imagery, but Nakahara added to this large expressive eyes, often reflecting the light.
Today in pulp I try to decipher 1980s Japanese street style, with the help of Olive: The Magazine for Romantic Girls!
This may involve frills...
Street style is an ever-changing mix of styles, brands, attitudes and poses with various influences. And you normally have to be in the right place at the right time to capture it.
Which is where magazines come in! Photograping, documenting and deconstructing fashion never goes out of style, and in the late 1970s Japanese youth had one key guide to help them: Popeye!
In February 1974 something profound and inexplicable happened to author Philip K Dick that changed his life forever. Was it an illness, a psychotic reaction, or something truly mystical?
Today in pulp I look back at the exegesis of Philip K Dick...
Philip K Dick was both prolific and influential. In his youth he came to the conclusion that, in a certain sense, the world is not entirely real and there is no way to confirm whether it is truly there.
By the end of the 1960s Philip K Dick had published over 40 novels and stories, as well as winning the 1963 Hugo Award for The Man In The High Castle. But he still struggled financially.
What with you being so busy and everythign you may not have visited your local library in a while.
So come with me on a virtual library tour, courtesy of stock photography, to see what we do for a living...
The enquiries desk is normally your first stop in a library, and this is where you will meet The Angry Librarian!
Why is she angry? Because people keep asking her stupid questions!
"Are you open?"
"Do you have a toilet?"
"That chair's wobbly!"
"Why isn't it available in audiobook?"
"Someone else is on the computer and that's not fair!"
Today in pulp I look at the original white stripes: the world of dazzle camoflague!
Traditional pattern camoflague had been used by the British Royal Navy to break up a ship's outline for some time. But in 1917 artist Norman Wilkinson presented the Admiralty with a different idea - camoflague that confused enemy rangefinders.
Dazzle - known in the US as Razzle Dazzle - would use high contrast colours in irregular patterns to make it difficult for enemy gunners to calculate a ship's range and bearing. This would (hopefully) lead to them taking up a poor firing position when they attacked.