Archive: Nostalgia

I was pretty excited to learn this week about Domesday Reloaded. The Domesday project aimed to take a snapshot of British life in 1986. 25 years on, the BBC are looking to update it to document the changes that have taken place since then.

I have been interested in the Domesday project for a while. The idea that a snapshot of Britain was taken, in the form of maps, photographs and text. Yet, the data was unavailable to most people.

The Domesday project was as much an ambitious experiment with technology as anything else. The technology was just about available, but a lot of pioneering work had to be done, and the hardware required for it was prohibitively expensive, leaving many of the contributors somewhat miffed.

Since then, it has become one of the most famous examples of digital obsolesence. This was due to a combination of the technology required to read the discs becoming increasingly rare, and idiosyncratic code.

The Domesday project came at a time when the technology was available, but the standards were not yet there to make it stable enough for long-term preservation, or even easy access in the short term. It’s a reminder that digital technologies are hugely enabling, yet frighteningly fragile.

Then there are the copyright issues surrounding both the content and the technology.

Joys of browsing Domesday Reloaded

The BBC should be applauded for finally managing to open up some of the data to the public on the web. The Domesday project was created before the web was invented. This isn’t how the content was designed to be viewed, so navigation is a bit cumbersome.

But aside from this gripe, the Domesday Reloaded website is turning out to be a fascinating resource.

I was born in 1986, the same year in which the Domesday project disc was published. So the Britain described here is a place that I don’t remember. But enough of it is familiar for it to feel incredibly relevant to me. It’s almost like being given a little upgrade to my memory, so that I can have snippets of knowledge from just before I was born.

Take the photographs for D-block GB-328000-690000 — the centre of Kirkcaldy, my hometown (D-block being one of the 4km by 3km areas the UK was divided into). It took me a little while to recognise “Kirkcaldy’s busy High Street”. But once I spotted British Home Stores, I was right there.

Yet, despite the familiarity, it is almost a completely different world. My memory of the High Street before it was pedestrianised is very limited. But it is just within touching distance of my memory for me to feel a strong connection with it.

The text entries are also fascinating. Most of the contributions were provided by primary schools. A decision was taken by the Domesday project not to edit the contributions, so the quality and style of writing varies from area to area.

As such, what strikes me the most is that it informs you as much about the prejudices of the school pupils and their teachers as it does about the area. It also retains their poor spelling and strange grammar.

For instance, an entry from Dundee (D-block GB-336000-732000) called ‘Traffic in and out’ is a basic survey of vehicles travelling on a road, with guesses as to where the vehicles are going and why. It lacks the academic rigour you would ideally want from a historical document.

But while some of the entries may seem banal, it was designed to be this way. The aim was to genuinely document society by capturing childrens’ curiosity with everything. This way it wouldn’t leave out what adults perceive as being obvious, when it wouldn’t necessarily be so obvious to someone in 1,000 years.

Missing D-blocks in Dundee on Domesday Reloaded

The really big shame is that not every part of Britain was documented. I could understand remote rural areas not being included. But sadly some highly populated areas have also been missed out. For instance, two D-blocks that cover the centre and east of Dundee lie blank, as does much of London.

But what exists is a joy. Even in the little amount of scanning I have done, I have already learned new information about the area I live in, which has set my mind racing and inspired me to investigate further.

Challenges for the modern day equivalents

What also struck me is how we actually already have readily-accessible modern-day equivalents of the Domesday project, almost by accident. The BBC is asking for users to update the content for D-blocks that were documented in 1986, to take an equivalent snapshot of 2011. I may go out and take some photographs for that.

But this sort of local information is staggeringly well documented already. We have Wikipedia, which can be edited by anyone but retains an academic approach that the Domesday project lacked. As such, it is a treasure trove of local information that can probably be relied on more.

Meanwhile, Google Earth and Google Maps provide masses of images of all corners of the country. It absolutely dwarfs what’s on Domesday Reloaded.

But the big question, which can’t be answered at the moment, is whether the wealth of information available on the web can be packaged up into a Domesday-style snapshot and preserved forever. The challenges of web preservation are massive.

Like the Domesday project, we could find the digital information almost slipping through our hands. The BBC know that themselves. With a stroke of a pen, it was decided that a significant chunk of British web heritage will be removed when the BBC removes some of its archived pages from the web.

The 1979 ITV strike was the longest in the history of British television. It was also the last major strike. When service resumed after ten weeks, this is what viewers saw.

With this naff jingle, viewers must have immediately wished that ITV never came back.

Following the ten week break, it would be a further ten weeks until new original programming was ready to air again as all of the regional stations had stopped making programmes during the strike. It must have been a long struggle for ITV to win back viewers from the BBC after this five month period.

In the first few days following the end of the strike, the station had to make do with generic ITV presentation, hence the generic ITV clock. This generic approach had only been used once before, during the 1968 strike, although it is pretty much the norm today.

Brilliant ITN theme music.

I cheated a bit last week, so this week I thought I’d better bring out a proper, genuine gem. This is the last ever broadcast on the 405-line system, on 3 January 1985.

To mark the occasion, the BBC brought out a 1938 television set (that would be a Baird Model T18 for you anoraks out there!) that was picking up BBC One as it was being transmitted from Crystal Palace. This was broadcast live to the nation during that evening’s closedown.

A full recording of the T18′s output, capturing the final moments of 405-line transmission, also lives on.

625-line broadcasts began in 1964 with the advent of BBC Two. BBC One began to make the switch in 1969. It took some time for the new system to reach the high levels of coverage achieved by 405-line, despite there being many more transmitters.

As such, the switchover period from the first public 625-line broadcast to the 405-line closure was 21 years. A further 27 years on, the 625-line service will be closed when digital switchover is completed in 2012.

You will note that the BBC One continuity announcer refers to 625-line broadcasting as “high definition”. The 405-line system was also originally billed as “high definition”.

I was excited last week when I discovered that the great Gordon Burns is on Twitter. I used to love watching The Krypton Factor when I was a child.

The first thing I thought of was this ITV regions map puzzle. I knew I had to feature it as a television presentation gem of the week.

Is your knowledge of ITV regions strong enough to do this?

Today, the multicoloured map would be gone. There are, at most, four distinct ITV channels remaining. All of England and Wales has been homogenised into a merged ITV, and STV and Grampian has effectively become one STV channel as well.

1933 Monaco Grand Prix poster

I recently received this print as a gift. It is a poster advertising the 5th Monaco Grand Prix, held in 1933. Doesn’t it look great?

A great deal has changed in the past 78 years. But this is unmistakably Monaco — the exit of the famous tunnel, with the harbour to the left and the hills to the right. It’s a great design that sums up Grand Prix motor racing beautifully, whether it’s 1933 or 2011.

PJ Tierney's poster for the 2011 Japanese Grand Prix

Meanwhile, a fan-made set of posters for each of the grands prix of 2011 has taken the internet by storm. PJ Tierney’s Formula 1 2011 poster series is a brilliant exhibition of great design.

PJ Tierney set himself the challenge of producing a poster a day. The idea is to use Formula 1-based imagery to form the flag of each country hosting a grand prix in 2011.

It is a simple but brilliant concept, beautifully executed. The poster for the Japanese Grand Prix particularly impressed me. It is clean, bold and clever. This poster would look great on the wall, so it’s just as well you can buy them.

The use of the DIN typeface also links these posters in neatly with official Formula 1 branding. These are so good that they really ought to be the official posters. Bernie should get this guy on his books!

Official poster for the 2008 Chinese Grand Prix

Compare it with the actual official posters, which are bland and utterly devoid of character. The example here is for the 2008 Chinese Grand Prix. (If you really want to, you can buy this poster for the knock-down price of 45p.) Mind you, it’s quite apt.

A near identical poster was produced for each grand prix of that season, and was used as promotional imagery on the website and elsewhere.

Deeply dull, these official posters are a brilliant example of how to turn the marvel of grand prix motor racing into something sanitised and watered-down.