I want to be the 'Bells on Sunday' man

For the past two or three weeks the BBC has run out of contemporary recordings of change ringing for the 2-minute ‘Bells on Sunday’ slot on Radio 4. We’ve had old recordings instead. So what? many of you will be asking. Some of those bells were cast in the 1500s – they’ve sounded the same for over 500 years. Why does a few weeks make a difference? Yet in a strange way it does make a difference. You see, I have a strong mental image of that tiny department at the BBC.

It starts with the ‘Bells on Sunday’ man. He’s provided with a BBC technician’s van in Brunswick Green livery and each week makes his way to one or two small English or Welsh villages, booking into a small local 3* hotel before an English breakfast and a 10am meeting with the ringers and vicar.

“Righto – I’ll use three mics. An external gun mike oriented to the tower louvres, one in the nave and the other on the ringing floor.”

“Okay let’s go for levels please – ring away”

Then, even if the first take of ‘Campion quad bob minor’ is perfect “Okeydokey let’s go for one more take …” because with two or three takes everyone feels they’re getting their money’s worth.

Then onto an agreeable solitary lunch in an ancient pub at least a village away before the next appointment. I reckon the BoS man does two recordings a week, probably by Wednesday, allowing Thursday and Friday for the programme editor, the BBC Controller of Bells, first, second and assistant sound engineers, offline and online editors, archive and rights manager and HR director, all on the payroll of the 2-minute BoS slot, to undertake executive meetings and decide which of the two or three takes from each church recording is to be broadcast. The head office team doesn’t waste the time from Monday to Wednesday, you can be sure. On Monday there’s the wash-up meeting following the Sunday broadcast -

“I thought the continuity was a little rushed, Jeremy. Schedule a meeting, will you, with the Head of Continuity, the Scripts Editor and the Facts and History Controller, say next week?”

On Tuesday the team meets in plenary session to agree the locations for forthcoming recordings, each with a fat file of photocopied letters from tower captains across the land extolling the qualities of their ring of eight tuned to E♭. 

And of course Wednesdays are for the clearance of the equalities statements with the BBC Equalities and Diversity teams. Wednesdays are the worst day of the week.

“I see you’ve got the next eleven rings planned. All villages. Cheshire, Shropshire, Worcestershire. All hideously white, from the demographics. And despite my previous memoranda, not a single recording of change ringing from a Moslem church”

“Uhm, Controller, there’s a problem there. You see mosques don’t have …”

“With respect, I’m not looking for excuses. Just action. I want to hear bells from Moslem, Hindu and Jewish churches in the next three months. Clear?”

“Well of course we’ll try. I Expect this is a bit of a change for you from the BBC Climate Change department?”

But most of all I want to be the BoS man in the little Brunswick Green van, never entering Broadcasting House from one year to the next, going home each week to a little pink cottage in a tiny hamlet in the Suffolk brecklands, a comfortable wife and a loving dog.