BBC

Video Art & Machine Obsolescence

multiple stills from BBC documentary showing Jim Moir and Greatbear video equipment in a mock-up studio

Stills from BBC4's "Kill Your TV: Jim Moir’s Weird World of Video Art", showing vintage video equipment from the Greatbear studio with researcher Adam Lockhart and artists Catherine Elwes and George Barber © Academy 7 Productions 2019.

At Greatbear we have many, many machines. A small selection of our analogue video players, CRT monitors, cameras, cables and tapes recently found work as props (both functional and decorative) in the BBC documentary “Kill Your TV: Jim Moir’s Weird World of Video Art”, on BBC iPlayer here.

From the BBC website: “Jim Moir, aka Vic Reeves, explores video art, revealing how different generations hacked the tools of television to pioneer new ways of creating art."

Our obsession with collecting and restoring rare video equipment is vital for our work. As technology developed through the latter half of the 20th century, dozens of different formats of video tape were created - each requiring specialist equipment to play it back: equipment which is now obsolete. The machines have not been manufactured for decades and the vast majority of them have been scrapped.

Those that remain are wearing out - the rotating head drums that read video tape have a finite number of working hours before they need replacement. Wear to the head drum tips is irrevocable, and the remaining few in existence are highly sought-after.

Even TV companies, where U-matic, Betacam and countless other formats of VTR machine were once ubiquitous, no longer have access to the machines and monitors we provided for “Kill Your TV”.

It is a similar conundrum for the artists who produced work with older video technology, and for the galleries and museums who hold collections of their work. We have recently been working on a fascinating project with specialist art conservator for time-based media, Brian Castriota and the Irish Museum of Modern Art, transferring important video artworks produced between 1972 - 2013 from multiple video tape formats, by artists including Isaac Julien, Gillian Wearing and Willie Doherty - more on this in a future blog post!

conceptual immateriality & the material device

In "Kill Your TV", Jim Moir describes a demonstration of David Hall’s "Vidicon Inscriptions" (1973) as “an electronic image that doesn’t really exist in a physical space” which nevertheless relies on the quirks of (very physical) vintage video equipment for its enactment.

Artist Peter Donebauer refers specifically to immateriality inherent to his 1974 video art piece “Entering” (broadcast via the BBC’s arts programme “2nd House”). PD: "Technically, the real core of this is the signal. It made me think about what this medium was, because it’s not material in the same way as painting, sculpture or even performance, dance, film - almost anything that has physicality.”

But for a signal to be perceived, it needs to be reproduced by a physical device capable of reading it. The dangers facing video artwork preservation lie not only in the fragility of the tape itself, but in the disappearance of rare playback machines and the specialist tools for their maintenance and repair; of the service manuals, calibration tapes and the expertise needed to set them up.

The 'tools of television' relished in "Kill Your TV" are the material devices we are striving to save, repair and maintain.

links & further reading:

Read about our facilities to transfer video made with the Sony Portapak system featured in the documentary: Sony 1/2 inch Portapak (EIAJ) / CV2100 / CV2000 open reel video tape

Our work with Videokunstarkivet, an exciting archival project mapping all the works of video art that have been made in Norway since the mid-1960s, funded by the Norwegian Arts Council.

“Kill Your TV: Jim Moir’s Weird World of Video Art” was made for BBC4 by Academy 7 Productions

 

Posted by melanie in video tape, video technology, machines, equipment, 0 comments
Revealing Histories: North Staffordshire

Revealing Histories: North Staffordshire

Greatbear are delighted to be working with the Potteries Heritage Society to digitise a unique collection of tape recordings made in the 1970s and 80s by radio producer, jazz musician and canals enthusiast Arthur Wood, who died in 2005.

The project, funded by a £51,300 grant from the Heritage Lottery Fund (HLF), will digitise and make available hundreds of archive recordings that tell the people’s history of the North Staffordshire area. There will be a series of events based on the recordings, culminating in an exhibition in 2018.

The recordings were originally made for broadcast on BBC Radio Stoke, where Arthur Wood was education producer in the 1970s and 80s. They feature local history, oral history, schools broadcasts, programmes on industrial heritage, canals, railways, dialect, and many other topics of local interest.

There are spontaneous memoirs and voxpop interviews as well as full-blown scripted programmes such as the ‘Ranter Preachers of Biddulph Moor’ and ‘The “D”-Day of 3 Men of the Potteries’ and ‘Millicent: Lady of Compassion’, a programme about 19th century social reformer Millicent, Duchess of Sutherland.

Arthur Wood: Educational Visionary

In an obituary published in The Guardian, David Harding described Wood as ‘a visionary. He believed radio belonged to the audience, and that people could use it to find their own voice and record their history. He taught recording and editing to many of his contributors – miners, canal, steel and rail workers, potters, children, artists, historians and storytellers alike.’

The tapes Greatbear will be digitising reflect what Wood managed to retain from his career at the BBC.

Before BBC Radio Stoke moved premises in 2002, Wood picked up as many tapes as he could and stored them away. His plan was to transfer them to a more future proof format (which at the time was mini disc!) but was sadly unable to do this before he passed away.

‘About 2 years ago’ Arthur’s daughter Jane explains, ‘I thought I’d go and have a look at what we actually had. I was surprised there were quite so many tapes (about 700 in all), and that they weren’t mainly schools programmes, as I had expected.

I listened to a few of them on our old Revox open reel tape machine, and soon realised that a lot of the material should be in the city (and possibly national) archives, where people could hear it, not in a private loft. The rest of the family agreed, so I set about researching how to find funding for it.’

50th anniversary of BBC Local Radio

The Revealing Voices project coincides with an important cultural milestone: the 50th anniversary of BBC local radio. Between 1967 and 1968 the BBC was granted license to set up a number of local radio stations in Durham, Sheffield, Brighton, Leicester, Merseyside, Nottingham, Leeds and Stoke-on-Trent.

Education was central to how the social role of local radio was imagined at the time:

‘Education has been a major preoccupation of BBC Local Radio from the outset. Indeed, in one sense, the entire social purpose of local radio, as conceived by the BBC, may be described as educational. As it is a central concern of every civilised community, so too must any agency serving the aims of such a community treat it as an area of human activity demanding special regard and support. It has been so with us. Every one of our stations has an educationist on its production staff and allocates air-time for local educational purposes’ (Education and BBC Local Radio: A Combined Operation by Hal Bethell, 1972, 3).

Within his role as education producer Wood had a remit to produce education programmes in the broadest sense – for local schools, and also for the general local audience. Arthur ‘was essentially a teacher and an enthusiast, and he sought to share local knowledge and stimulate reflective interest in the local culture mainly by creating engaging programmes with carefully chosen contributors,’ Jane reflected.

Revealing Voices and Connecting Histories

Listening to old recordings of speech, like gazing at old photograph, can be very arresting. Sound recordings often contain an ‘element which rises from the scene, shoots out of it like an arrow, and pierces me’, akin to Roland Barthes might have called a sonic punctum.

The potency of recorded speech, especially in analogue form, arises from its indexicality—or what we might call ‘presence’. This ‘presence’ is accentuated by sound’s relational qualities, the fact that the person speaking was undeniably there in time, but when played back is heard but also felt here.

When Jane dropped off the tapes in the Greatbear studio she talked of the immediate impact of listening again to her father’s tape collection. The first tape she played back was a recording of a woman born in 1879, recalling, among other things, attending a bonfire to celebrate Queen Victoria’s jubilee.

Hearing the voice gave her a distinct sense of being connected to a woman’s life across three different centuries. This profound and unique experience was made possible by the recordings her father captured in the 1970s, unwinding slowly on magnetic tape.

The Revealing Voices project hope that other people, across north Staffordshire and beyond, will have a similar experiences of recognition and connection when they listen to the transferred tapes. It would be a fitting tribute to Arthur Wood’s life-work, who, Jane reflects, would be ‘glad that a solution has been found to preserve the tapes so that future generations can enjoy them.’

***

If you live in the North Staffordshire area and want to volunteer on the Revealing Voices project please contact Andy Perkin, Project Officer, on andy at revealing-voices dot org dot uk.

Many thanks to Jane Wood for her feedback and support during research for this article.

Posted by debra in audio / video heritage, audio tape, 1 comment

Motobirds U-matic NTSC transfer


Motobirds, a 1970s all-girl motorbike stunt team from Leicester, have recently re-captured the public imagination.

The group re-united for an appearance on BBC One’s The One Show which aired on 1 April 2016. They hadn’t seen each other for forty years.

The Motobirds travelled all over the UK and Europe, did shows with the Original American Hell Drivers in Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Iceland, etc. We were originally four, then six, then fourteen girls.

We performed motorbike stunts, car stunts and precision driving, and human cannon. We were eventually followed by the Auto Angels, an all girl group from Devon or Cornwall. I don’t know of any other all girl teams’, remembers founding member Mary Weston-Webb.

Motobirds were notoriously daring, and wore little or no protective clothing.

The BBC article offers this sobering assessment: ‘most of the women’s stunts would horrify modern health and safety experts’.

We were pretty overjoyed in the Greatbear studio when Mary Weston-Webb, the driving force behind the recent reunion, sent us a NTSC uMatic video tape to transfer.

The video, which was in a perfect, playable condition, is a document of Motobirds strutting their stuff in Japan.

As Mary explains:

‘We (Liz Hammersley and Mary Connors) went to Japan with Joe Weston-Webb (who I later married) who ran the Motobirds for a Japanese TV programme called Pink Shock, as it was very unusual at that time, mid seventies, for girls to ride motorbikes in Japan. It was filmed on an island and we rehearsed and should have been filmed on the beach, which gave us plenty of room for a run up to the jumps. The day of the shoot, there had been a storm and the beach was flooded and we moved onto the car park of a shopping mall. Run up was difficult, avoiding shoppers with trolleys, round the flower beds, down the kerb, and a short stopping distance before the main road.’

Enjoy these spectacular jumps!

Thank you Mary for telling us the story behind the tapes.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p03pr0q9/player

Posted by debra in video tape, 0 comments

D-1, D-2 & D-3: histories of digital video tape

Enormous D-1 cassette held in hand

Large D-1 cassette dimensions: 36.5 x 20.3 x 3.2cm

D-2 tape with rulers showing size

D-2 cassette dimensions: 25.4 x 14.9 x 3cm

D-3 tape with rulers showing size

D-3 cassette size M: 21.2 x 12.4 x 2.5 cm

At Greatbear we carefully restore and transfer D-1, D-2, D-3, D-5, D-9 and Digital-S tapes  to digital file at archival quality.

Early digital video tape development

Behind every tape (and every tape format) lie interesting stories, and the technological wizardry and international diplomacy that helped shape the roots of our digital audio visual world are worth looking into.

In 1976, when the green shoots of digital audio technology were emerging at industry level, the question of whether Video Tape Recorders (VTRs) could be digitised began to be explored in earnest by R & D departments based at SONY, Ampex and Bosch G.m.b.H. There was considerable scepticism among researchers about whether digital video tape technology could be developed at all because of the wide frequency required to transmit a digital image.

In 1977 however, as reported on the SONY websiteYoshitaka Hashimoto and team began to intensely research digital VTRs and 'in just a year and a half, a digital image was played back on a VTR.'

Several years of product development followed, shaped, in part, by competing regional preferences. As Jim Slater argues in Modern Television Systems (1991): 'much of the initial work towards digital standardisation was concerned with trying to find ways of coping with the three very different colour subcarrier frequencies used in NTSC, SECAM and PAL systems, and a lot of time and effort was spent on this' (114).

Establishing a standard sampling frequency did of course have real financial consequences, it could not be randomly plucked out the air: the higher the sampling frequency, the greater overall bit rate; the greater overall bit rate, the more need for storage space in digital equipment. In 1982, after several years of negotiations, a 13.5 MHz sampling frequency was agreed. European, North American, 'Japanese, the Russians, and various other broadcasting organisations supported the proposals, and the various parameters were adopted as a world standard, Recommendation 601 [a.k.a. 4:2:2 DTV] standard of the CCIR [Consultative Committee for International Radio, now International Telecommunication Union]' (Slater, 116).

The 4:4:2 DTV was an international standard that would form the basis of the (almost) exclusively digital media environment we live in today. It was 'developed in a remarkably short time, considering its pioneering scope, as the worldwide television community recognised the urgent need for a solid basis for the development of an all-digital television production system', write Stanley Baron and David Wood

Once agreed upon, product development could proceed. The first digital video tape, the D-1, was introduced on the market in 1986. It was an uncompressed component video which used enormous bandwidth for its time: 173 Mbit/sec (bit rate), with maximum recording time of 94 minutes.

large cream-coloured video machine with electroluminescent display panel

BTS DCR 500 D-1 video recorder at Greatbear studio

As Slater writes: 'unfortunately these machines are very complex, difficult to manufacture, and therefore very expensive […] they also suffer from the disadvantage that being component machines, requiring luminance and colour-difference signals at input and output, they are difficult to install in a standard studio which has been built to deal with composite PAL signals. Indeed, to make full use of the D-1 format the whole studio distribution system must be replaced, at considerable expense' (125).

Being forced to effectively re-wire whole studios, and the considerable risk involved in doing this because of continual technological change, strikes a chord with the challenges UK broadcast companies face as they finally become 'tapeless' in October 2014 as part of the Digital Production Partnership's AS-11 policy.

Sequels and product development

As the story so often goes, D-1 would soon be followed by D-2. Those that did make the transition to D-1 were probably kicking themselves, and you can only speculate the amount of back injuries sustained getting the machines in the studio (from experience we can tell you they are huge and very heavy!)

It was fairly inevitable a sequel would be developed because even as the D-1 provided uncompromising image quality, it was most certainly an unwieldy format, apparent from its gigantic size and component wiring. In response a composite digital video, the D-2, was developed by Ampex and introduced in 1988.

In this 1988 promotional video, you can see the D-2 in action. Amazingly for our eyes and ears today the D-2 is presented as the ideal archival format. Amazing for its physical size (hardly inconspicuous on the storage shelf!) but also because it used composite video signal technology. Composite signals combine on one wire all the component parts which make up a video signal: chrominance (colour, or Red Green, Blue - RGB) and luminance (the brightness or black and white information, including grayscale).

While the composite video signal used lower bandwidth and was more compatible with existing analogue systems used in the broadcast industry of the time, its value as an archival format is questionable. A comparable process for the storage we use today would be to add compression to a file in order to save file space and create access copies. While this is useful in the short term it does risk compromising file authenticity and quality in the long term. The Ampex video is fun to watch however, and you get a real sense of how big the tapes were and the practical impact this would have had on the amount of time it took to produce TV programmes.

Enter the D-3

Following the D-2 is the D-3, which is the final video tape covered in this article (although there were of course the D5 and D9.)

The D-3 was introduced by Panasonic in 1991 in order to compete with Ampex's D-2. It has the same sampling rate as the D-2 with the main difference being the smaller shell size.

The D-3's biggest claim to fame was that it was the archival digital video tape of choice for the BBC, who migrated their analogue video tape collections to the format in the early 1990s. One can only speculate that the decision to take the archival plunge with the D-3 was a calculated risk: it appeared to be a stable-ish technology (it wasn't a first generation technology and the difference between D-2 and D-3 is negligible).

The extent of the D-3 archive is documented in a white paper published in 2008, D3 Preservation File Format, written by Philip de Nier and Phil Tudor: 'the BBC Archive has around 315,000 D-3 tapes in the archive, which hold around 362,000 programme items. The D-3 tape format has become obsolete and in 2007 the D-3 Preservation Project was started with the goal to transfer the material from the D-3 tapes onto file-based storage.'

Tom Heritage, reporting on the development of the D3 preservation project in 2013/2014, reveals that 'so far, around 100,000 D3 and 125,000 DigiBeta videotapes have been ingested representing about 15 Petabytes of content (single copy).'

It has then taken six years to migrate less than a third of the BBC's D-3 archive. Given that D-3 machines are now obsolete, it is more than questionable whether there are enough D-3 head hours left in existence to read all the information back clearly and to an archive standard. The archival headache is compounded by the fact that 'with a large proportion of the content held on LTO3 data tape [first introduced 2004, now on LTO-6], action will soon be required to migrate this to a new storage technology before these tapes become difficult to read.' With the much publicised collapse of the BBC's (DMI) digital media initiative in 2013, you'd have to very strong disposition to work in the BBC's audio visual archive department.

The roots of the audio visual digital world

The development of digital video tape, and the international standards which accompanied its evolution, is an interesting place to start understanding our current media environment. They are also a great place to begin examining the problems of digital archiving, particularly when file migration has become embedded within organisational data management policy, and data collections are growing exponentially.

While the D-1 may look like an alien-techno species from a distant land compared with the modest, immaterial file lists neatly stored on hard drives that we are accustomed to, they are related through the 4:2:2 sample rate which revolutionised high-end digital video production and continues to shape our mediated perceptions.

Preserving early digital video formats

More more information on transferring D-1, D-2, D3, D-5, D-5HD & D-9 / Digital S from tape to digital files, visit our digitising pages for:

D-1 (Sony) component and D-2 (Ampex) composite 19mm digital video cassettes

Composite digital D-3 and uncompressed component digital D-5 and D-5HD (Panasonic) video cassettes

D-9 / Digital S (JVC) video cassettes

Posted by debra in video tape, video technology, machines, equipment, 7 comments

New additions in the Greatbear Studio – BBC-adapted Studer Open reel tape machine

BBC Adapted Studer_Fader We recently acquired a new Studer open reel tape machine to add to our extensive collection of playback equipment.

This Studer is, however, different from the rest, because it originally belonged to BBC Bristol. It therefore bears the hallmarks of a machine specifically adapted for broadcast use.

The telltale signs can be found in customised features, such as control faders and switches. These enabled sound levels to be controlled remotely or manually.

 The presence of peak programme meters (P.P.M.), buttons that made it easy to see recording speeds (7.5/ 15 inches per second), as well as switches between cues and channels, were also specific to broadcast use.

Adapted Studer_Sound Levels

Studer tape machines were favoured in professional contexts because of their ‘sturdy tape transport mechanism with integrated logic control, electronically controlled tape tension even during fast wind and braking phases, electronic sensing of tape motion and direction, electronic tape timing, electronic speed control, plug-in amplifier modules with separately plug-gable equalization and level pre-sets plus electronic equalization changeover.’

Because of Studer’s emphasis on engineering quality, machines could be adapted according to the specific needs of a recording or broadcast project.  

For our ¼ inch reel-to-reel digitisation work at Greatbear, we have also adapted a Studer machine to clean damaged or shedding tapes prior to transfer. The flexibility of the machine enables us to remove fixed guides so vulnerable tape can move safely through the transport. This preservation-based adaption is testimony to the considered design of Studer open reel tape machines, even though it diverges from its intended use.    

If you want to learn a bit more about the Equipment department at the BBC who would have been responsible for adapting machines, follow this link.

Adapted Studer_BBC Bristol

ADAPT, who are researching the history of television production also have an excellent links section of their website, including one to the BBC’s Research and Develop (R&D) archive which houses many key digitised publications relating to the adoption and use of magnetic tape in the broadcast industry.

Posted by debra in audio tape, audio technology, machines, equipment, 1 comment

‘Missing Believed Wiped’: The Search For Lost TV Treasures

Contemporary culture is often presented as drowning in mindless nostalgia, with everything that has ever been recorded circulating in a deluge of digital information.

Whole subcultures have emerged in this memory boom, as digital technologies enable people to come together via a shared passion for saving obscurities presumed to be lost forever. One such organisation is Kaleidoscope, whose aim is to keep the memory of ‘vintage’ British television alive. Their activities capture an urgent desire bubbling underneath the surface of culture to save everything, even if the quality of that everything is questionable.

Of course, as the saying goes, one person’s rubbish is another person’s treasure. As with most cultural heritage practices, the question of value is at the centre of people’s motivations, even if that value is expressed through a love for Pan’s People, Upstairs, Downstairs, Dick Emery and the Black and White Minstrel Show.

We were recently contacted by a customer hunting for lost TV episodes. His request: to lay hands on any old tapes that may unwittingly be laden with lost jewels of TV history. His enquiry is not so strange since a 70s Top of the Pops programme, a large proportion of which were deleted from the official BBC archive, trailed the end of ½ EIAJ video tape we recently migrated. And how many other video tapes stored in attics, sheds or barns potentially contain similar material? Or, as stated on the Kaleidoscope website:

‘Who’d have ever imagined that a modest, sometimes mould-infested collection of VHS tapes in a cramped back bedroom in Pill would lead to the current Kaleidoscope archive, which hosts the collections of many industry bodies as well as such legendary figures as Bob Monkhouse or Frankie Howard?’

Selection and appraisal in the archive

Selection of video tapes

Mysterious tapes?

Living in an age of seemingly infinite information, it is easy to forget that any archival project involves keeping some things and throwing away others. Careful considerations about the value of an item needs to be made, both in relation to contemporary culture and the projected needs of subsequent generations.

These decisions are not easy and carry great responsibility. After all, how is it possible to know what society will want to remember in 10, 20 or even 30 years from now, let alone 200? The need to remember is not static either, and may change radically over time. What is kept now also strongly shapes future societies because our identities, lives and knowledge are woven from the memory resources we have access to. Who then would be an archivist?

When faced with a such a conundrum the impulse to save everything is fairly seductive, but this is simply not possible. Perhaps things were easier in the analogue era when physical storage constraints conditioned the arrangement of the archive. Things had to be thrown away because the clutter was overwhelming. With the digital archive, always storing more seems possible because data appears to take up less space. Yet as we have written about before on the blog, just because you can’t touch or even see digital information, doesn’t mean it is not there. Energy consumption is costly in a different way, and still needs to be accounted for when appraising how resource intensive digital archives are.

For those who want their media memories to remain intact, whole and accessible, learning about the clinical nature of archival decisions may raise concern. The line does however need to be drawn somewhere. In an interview in 2004 posted on the Digital Curation Centre’s website, Richard Wright, who worked in the BBC’s Information and Archives section, explained the long term preservation strategy for the institution at the time.

‘For the BBC, national programmes that have entered the main archive and been fully catalogued have not, in general, been deleted. The deletions within the retention policy mainly apply to “contribution material” i.e. components (rushes) of a final programme, or untransmitted material. Hence, “long-term” for “national programmes that have entered the main archive and been fully catalogued” means in perpetuity. We have already kept some material for more than 75 years, including multiple format migrations.’

Value – whose responsibility?

For all those episodes, missing believed wiped, the treasure hunters who track them down tread a fine line between a personal obsession and offering an invaluable service to society. You decide.

What is inspiring about amateur preservationists is that they take the question of archival value into their own hands. In the 21st century, appraising and selecting the value of cultural artifacts is therefore no longer the exclusive domain of the archivist, even if expertise about how to manage, describe and preserve collections certainly is.

Does the popularity of such activities change the constitution of archives? Are they now more egalitarian spaces that different kinds of people contribute to? It certainly suggests that now, more than ever, archives always need to be thought of in plural terms, as do the different elaborations of value they represent.

Posted by debra in video tape, 0 comments

Digitising Low Band U-matic Video Tapes – The resurgence of Philip Jap, pop icon

Front cover of 7" single 'Save Us', Philip Jap making an elegant dance pose

Philip Jap came from a time when mime, dance, slapped bass lines, mascara and techno-dystopic anthems were staple parts of a successful popular music career. Cut from the same new wave goth cloth as Gary Numan, Human League and John Foxx, sporting mesmeric dance moves like a male Kate Bush, Jap lit up the early 1980s with performances on the David Essex Showcase, an audience participation talent show similar to today’s Britain’s Got Talent or Pop Idol. Jap went on to sign for Carlin Music Publishing and A&M Records, release an eponymous solo album and have a top 40 hit with ‘Save Us,’ a dramatic plea for liberation from an increasingly intrusive ‘mechanical world.’

Jap retains a modest yet loyal fanbase (The Philip Jap Army), and his recordings will soon be made available through his twitter site. Although he did not have runaway commercial chart success, Jap went on to have a successful career as a composer and arranger for TV series and commercials and is the co-founder of AUDIOfield, a music production company.

The Greatbear studio has been graced with Jap’s music this week because we have been migrating a collection of low-band U-matic videos that feature a number of TV appearances and promotional videos, including the 30 minute ‘special’ that was recorded for the BBC.  In similar fashion to our recent transfer of Manchester Oi! band State Victims, the tapes were found in an old suitcase in a barn!

Although the tapes were mostly in good condition, some of the tapes were recorded on early SONY brand and were suffering from low Radio Frequency (RF) levels. RF levels are the recorded levels that can be read off the tape itself. To get a good, clear picture it is essential that the RF levels are strong. According to the AV Artifact Atlas, RF deterioration can occur because of a ‘poorly made recording on broken or mis-calibrated machine/record heads, or the use of poor quality video tape stock.’ Low RF levels may also occur if ‘the source media itself has been exposed to a strong magnetic field (unshielded speakers, motors, high-voltage transformers, etc.)’.

Close up of radio frequency monitor on U-Matic machine

When a tape is suffering from low RF levels there are not loads of things you can do to reverse the process. This is because the signal recorded on the tape has essentially faded over time, due to a bad initial recording, unsuitable storage conditions leading to de-magnetisation or sticky shed, or poor quality tape (such as AMPEX or SONY U-matic tapes, although not exclusively). It is possible however to modify the tracking, a calibration adjustment which ensures the spinning playback head is properly aligned with the helical scan signal written onto the video tape. Tracking changes the speed at which the tape moves past the tape heads, which although spinning during playback, remain stationary. It is not the answer of all low RF ills, however, because the signal on the tape itself has become weaker, even if the calibration adjustment helps the machine read the signal more effectively.

Thankfully the tapes play back well, which is pretty amazing given that the tapes are over 30 years old and were never meant to be archive copies in the first place. We have also had a pretty enjoyable time watching and listening to Philip Jap’s amazing music. It is definitely time for a revival!

Posted by debra in video tape, 2 comments