Barry Humphries - Forgotten Musical Masterpieces [Radio 2 Celebrates The BBC At 100]

Barry also reveals how the origins of British broadcasting lie in Essex and that the Australian Soprano Dame Nellie Melba took part in a ground-breaking broadcast in Britain on 15th June 1920, two years before the BBC was formed.

The BBC was formed in the autumn of 1922. Back then, that combination of letters meant nothing to most people. Also, until 1927 the 'C' in 'B.B.C.' actually stood for 'company' rather than 'corporation'. Gradually, with its microphones and transmitters, condensers, valves and knobs, the Beeb - as it's now more affectionally known - brought an exciting range of writers, scientists, musicians, politicians and entertainers into people's lives for the very first time. A new method of mass communication had been born. 'Listening in' to the wireless became a social and cultural phenomenon!

One hundred years ago, when the system of broadcasting in Britain was first conceived, it was specifically designed to be very different from the radio chaos that had sprung up on the other side of the Atlantic, after the end of the First World War. In America, anyone could set up a radio station and British Officials quickly decided that the USA's overcrowded airways were not to be repeated here. The BBC quickly became an International, as well as, a National Treasure. It opened up a world of information, education and entertainment to millions!

Barry Humphries says:

It's great to be back on BBC Radio 2. Of all the things I do, speaking to others via the ‘wizardry of wireless' is my absolute favourite! Listeners to BBC Radio 2 are in for a treat. I'll be presenting my personal selection of the most thought-provoking and entertaining songs by artists, who became famous during the earliest days of radio.

Listening to my parents' radio, when I was a child, was how I first discovered that there was a world of music, laughter and entertainment beyond suburban Melbourne and that some people actually earned a living as entertainers. Radio opened up a world of information, education and entertainment to me and countless others.

I consider the wireless to be the world's greatest invention. My influences would have been so very narrow without it. The sound of my parents' radio is embedded in the background of my earliest memories.`

'Relatively quickly, the BBC established itself as an International as well as a National Treasure. Broadcasting opened up a world of information, education and entertainment to me and countless others!'

Barry Humphries returns to BBC Radio 2 with a new series of his vintage music show.

Programmes and documentaries celebrating BBC personalities and stars through the years.

It's great to be back on BBC Radio 2. Of all the things I do, speaking to others via the ‘wizardry of wireless' is my absolute favourite! Listeners to BBC Radio 2 are in for a treat. I'll be presenting my personal selection of the most thought-provoking and entertaining songs by artists, who became famous during the earliest days of radio.

I consider the wireless to be the world's greatest invention. My influences would have been so very narrow without it. The sound of my parents' radio is embedded in the background of my earliest memories. ?

The BBC was formed in the autumn of 1922. Back then, that combination of letters meant little to most people. Also, until 1927 the ‘C' in ‘BBC' actually stood for ‘Company' rather than ‘Corporation'. ‘Listening in' to the wireless quickly became a social and cultural phenomenon. John Reith wanted the national broadcaster to bring the best of everything into the greatest number of homes. Later, the Cabinet Secretary, Maurice Hankey, told Reith that he had, 'created one of the greatest organisations in the world which will continue on your lines for centuries.

The task of reading the very first BBC news bulletin at 6pm on 14th November 1922 fell to Arthur Burrows and the headlines covered a train robbery, a rowdy meeting involving Winston Churchill, the sale of a Shakespeare ‘First Folio' and it ended, naturally, with the billiard scores. The second day's BBC news bulletins brought results of the 1922 General Election.

Barry also mentions the British broadcasting debut of the legendary George Gershwin, whose performance of 'Rhapsody in Blue' as piano soloist was broadcast live from a London hotel in 1925.

Barry Humphries says:

Making each series of ‘Forgotten Musical Masterpieces' for BBC Radio over recent years has given me the opportunity to discover artists, I'd never heard of before. Norman Long is one of my best discoveries. He made his British broadcasting debut on the radio station ‘2LO' in London, as early as 1922 and described himself as ‘all teeth and trousers.' Norman Long gave his farewell performance in 1945 and died, in nursing home in Torquay, six years later, so I never got the chance to meet him. I didn't arrive in Britain until 1959. I also don't recall hearing him on the radio in Australia when I was a child. He was a star of the 1920s, the decade before I was born. ‘We Can't Let You Broadcast That!' pokes fun at the early BBC censors, whom Norman Long clearly had regular dealings with. I'm sure you won't be surprised to know that, on occasion, I've shared Norman's frustrations. ‘We Can't Let You Broadcast That!' has been said to me by BBC producers occasions times over the years.

'One hundred years ago, when the system of broadcasting in Britain was first conceived, it was designed to be very different from the radio chaos that had sprung up on the other side of the Atlantic, after the end of the First World War. In America, anyone could set up a radio station and it was decided that the USA's disorganised, overcrowded airways were not to be repeated here. British Officials felt that the new method of mass communication had to be carefully regulated, to ensure that it didn't fall into the wrong hands and wasn't put to sinister purposes.'

Barry Humphries celebrates 100 years of the BBC with witty songs from the 1920s and 30s.

Programmes and documentaries celebrating BBC personalities and stars through the years.

Barry Humphries celebrates the centenary of the BBC with his personal selection of music by artists, who were big stars during the earliest days of British broadcasting. In episode 2, Barry looks back at the era of John Reith, who was in charge of the BBC from 1922 to 1938. Musical highlights in this episode include the songs: 'What it Feels Like to Broadcast' by Gert & Daisy, ‘We Can't Let You Broadcast That' and ‘All for Ten Shillings A Year (about the wonders of the Licence Fee) by Norman Long, ‘Old King Tut' (inspired by the discovery of Tutankhamun's Tomb in 1923) by Billy Jones & Ernest Hare and ‘We're Frightfully BBC' by the Western Brothers.

The BBC was formed in the autumn of 1922. Back then, that combination of letters meant little to most people. Also, until 1927 the ‘C' in ‘BBC' actually stood for ‘Company' rather than ‘Corporation'. ‘Listening in' to the wireless quickly became a social and cultural phenomenon. John Reith wanted the national broadcaster to bring the best of everything into the greatest number of homes. Later, the Cabinet Secretary, Maurice Hankey, told Reith that he had, 'created one of the greatest organisations in the world which will continue on your lines for centuries.

The task of reading the very first BBC news bulletin at 6pm on 14th November 1922 fell to Arthur Burrows and the headlines covered a train robbery, a rowdy meeting involving Winston Churchill, the sale of a Shakespeare ‘First Folio' and it ended, naturally, with the billiard scores. The second day's BBC news bulletins brought results of the 1922 General Election.

Making each series of ‘Forgotten Musical Masterpieces' for BBC Radio over recent years has given me the opportunity to discover artists, I'd never heard of before. Norman Long is one of my best discoveries. He made his British broadcasting debut on the radio station ‘2LO' in London, as early as 1922 and described himself as ‘all teeth and trousers.' Norman Long gave his farewell performance in 1945 and died, in nursing home in Torquay, six years later, so I never got the chance to meet him. I didn't arrive in Britain until 1959. I also don't recall hearing him on the radio in Australia when I was a child. He was a star of the 1920s, the decade before I was born. ‘We Can't Let You Broadcast That!' pokes fun at the early BBC censors, whom Norman Long clearly had regular dealings with. I'm sure you won't be surprised to know that, on occasion, I've shared Norman's frustrations. ‘We Can't Let You Broadcast That!' has been said to me by BBC producers occasions times over the years.

Musical highlights in this episode include: the satirical song ‘Don't Let's Sing About the War' by Ronald Frankau, 'Mrs Christopher Stone' by Gert & Daisy (one of a series of songs they recorded about the wives of famous radio personalities), 'Yer Can't Help Laughin' by Jack Warner, 'The Floral Dance' by Australian bass-baritone Peter Dawson and 'The Broken Record' by Henry Hall & the BBC Dance Orchestra.

Barry also recalls that all broadcasting was 'live broadcasting' for almost a decade. The first recording machine used by the BBC was the Blattnerphone, but that wasn't available until 1930 and using it was a very risky business! The spools of tape were very heavy. Also, the speed of the machine ran at five feet a second, so a twenty minute recording would use a mile of tape! It was designed and named after Ludwig Blattner, a film maker, who'd been born in Germany but during the 1920s and 30s worked extensively in Britain. Only twelve Blattnerphones were ever made and other devices quickly took over, but the Blattnerphone was most definitely the first recording machine used by the BBC.

Barry also remarks that BBC Broadcasting House at Portland Place near Oxford Circus opened, in 1932, just a few months before Hitler came to power in Germany. Between 1939 and 1945, the songs of Noel Coward, Arthur Askey, Vera Lynn and many other artists kept the nation's spirits up during exceedingly dark times.

Barry Humphries says:

With the recent revival of vinyl LPs, youngsters are now, at least, more aware of the trials, tribulations and paraphernalia involved in repeatedly playing one's favourite song over and over again on a turntable. Inevitably, the disc begins to jump and this phenomenon is demonstrated beautifully in ‘The Broken Record' by Henry Hall and the BBC Dance Orchestra. It imitates the irritating sound of a skipping gramophone disc.

In the 1930s, it was estimated that half of all Shellac, that's the resin made by insects in Asia, was used in the production of gramophone discs. Today, Shellac actually still has some uses. It's used in French polishing, false nails and pointe shoes for ballerinas. You learn so much listening to the wireless and my show alone is well worth your licence fee!

It was hearing the music and the voices coming out of my parents' radio that first introduced me to the world of entertainment beyond suburban Melbourne.

When Broadcasting House first opened, in March 1932, a programme celebrating the first decade of the BBC was planned, but it was quickly discovered that there were no recordings available to play to listeners. You see, for almost a decade, all broadcasting had been 'live' broadcasting.

'As a child in the 1940s, I subscribed to a magazine called Radio Fun. It was full of puzzles, articles and cartoons and would feature the greatest radio stars of the day. It was strange to think, later on, that these comics crammed full of childish entertainment were devised and printed in London faraway and possible during the Blitz.'

Barry Humphries celebrates 100 years of the BBC with witty songs from 1920s, 30s and 40s.

Programmes and documentaries celebrating BBC personalities and stars through the years.

Musical highlights in this episode include: the satirical song ‘Don't Let's Sing About the War' by Ronald Frankau, 'Mrs Christopher Stone' by Gert & Daisy (one of a series of songs they recorded about the wives of famous radio personalities), 'Yer Can't Help Laughin' by Jack Warner, 'The Floral Dance' by Australian bass-baritone Peter Dawson and 'The Broken Record' by Henry Hall & the BBC Dance Orchestra.

With the recent revival of vinyl LPs, youngsters are now, at least, more aware of the trials, tribulations and paraphernalia involved in repeatedly playing one's favourite song over and over again on a turntable. Inevitably, the disc begins to jump and this phenomenon is demonstrated beautifully in ‘The Broken Record' by Henry Hall and the BBC Dance Orchestra. It imitates the irritating sound of a skipping gramophone disc.