Hands On TV History

John Ellis, Royal Holloway University of London

8 March 2019

Huge amounts of TV material are now becoming available for historical researchers, thanks to digitization. Digitization makes old programming visible, but at the same time it obscures how those programmes were made. As access gets easier, understanding the footage as source material is getting harder.

The proliferation of potential sources range from the carefully curated to the anarchy of YouTube:

  • Learning on Screen’s Box of Broadcasts (BoB) contains thousands of hours of analogue-originated programmes
  • The substantial amounts of ITN news material, once curated by Learning on Screen for Jisc, is now available again through Proquest’s Alexander Street subsidiary: https://alexanderstreet.com/products/mediaplus 
  • Organisations as diverse as Kaleidescope, BBC Archive, Ident Central, Talking Pictures TV and Network Distributing are all actively engaged in making old programming available
  • Europeana, the European Digital Library has over a million TV items from the EUscreen project
  • National broadcaster archives, inspired by the vast resources of France’s INA, are increasingly making their factual material visible to academic or even public users
  • YouTube contains vast amounts of analogue TV, much of it posted from digitized VHS tapes

How TV got made in the analogue era has now become an urgent question for anyone wanting to understand or use this footage, whether for teaching or historical research or even for its value as data. Making TV used to be a rare and difficult activity. It used expensive and cumbersome technologies that required teams of skilled individuals to work them, and the resources of large organisations with the funding to afford them. The TV footage we have from the last century (and the earlier years of this century) are profoundly determined by the affordances of analogue technologies and the systems that went with them. TV tended to record what was convenient or accessible, and in forms that were manageable and predictable. This has determined the nature of the visual record of that time: what was chosen to be shown and how it was shown.

So how do we find out how TV used to be made? The television industry itself provides only clues. There’s only so much that you can learn from looking at old equipment, and even less from photos of them. Broadcaster archives contain very few programmes explaining how TV used to work. Fortunately, many of the professionals from the fifties onwards are still around, and there is an international network of collectors who still maintain “obsolete” equipment in working order.

For the ADAPT research project, funded by the European Research Council, we seized this time-limited opportunity to reunite working equipment with the professionals who once used it. We challenged them to make a programme as they used to. We used contemporary ‘fixed rig’ video methods (14 cameras for one shoot) to produce over 160 videos in all. Our  promotional video gives a good idea of the scope of this work.

They show how TV professionals in the UK filmed and edited using both video and 16mm film. The processes of both video and film are explained at www.adapttvhistory.org.uk, and all the videos can be downloaded from the repository at https://figshare.com/collections/ADAPT/3925603

We have extraordinary revelations: how quickly and economically a film crew used to work; the sheer difficulty of getting a live show on air; the crucial importance of repair and maintenance; the time and effort it took to line up cameras.

We see how the 16mm Éclair camera and Nagra sound tape recorder revolutionised what was possible. We see how one (energetic) person can run an entire film lab. Our footage enables a comparison between film and videotape editing, as well as an appraisal of AVID’s early digital system.  

It shows the combination of many different items of equipment that were required to make the simplest of sound and image material, the heavy cables, the cumbersome tapes, the long waits for equipment to warm up.

We concentrated on the everyday production of everyday TV, to present examples that were as typical as possible. The equipment used is mainly British or European and the professionals involved had all once worked for the BBC. But the work routines and the basic arrays of equipment were similar even then. Many of the crews interact in ways that are startlingly similar to those reported by Beth Bechty in her ethnographic studies of US freelance film crews in the early 2000s. They show the same rituals of exaggerated politeness and mutual respect. The biggest difference is in the social composition of the professional group we were calling on: they were overwhelmingly male and white.  

The equipment (and some attitudes) may be retro, but this work is no exercise in historical recreation akin to a Civil War battle recreation. Instead it is a combination of hands on history and memory work. These professionals recall past actions that, more often than not, are deeply embedded in body memory. The additional challenge to create again brings forward all their professional skills.   The participants are ‘playing’ their younger selves, encountering long abandoned equipment: “Come to Daddy” says one of the cinematographers unselfconsciously on picking up the Éclair camera.

Our videos are edited to different lengths: a bitesized two minutes that can be used in a lecture; a medium length for seminar use and full length versions for research and concentrated study. [See the playlist on YouTube here]. Taken together they show clearly why archival TV is as it is: they reveal the strengths and limitations of a whole, lost, era of television production. It was an era when filming was not the commonplace activity it is now: it involved scarce resources, large expenditure, individuals with highly specialized skills. The decision to film was a weighty one that involved considerable planning. When you watch these professionals at work, and see their demonstrations of the equipment they wrestled with, it seems remarkable that they achieved so much.    

This material can serve as a guide for those students and researchers fortunate enough to have access to hands on collections of old equipment. There is a growing network of ‘hands on history’ collections which allow students to handle old equipment, the better to understand its limitations and capabilities. This is not yet common in the UK, but there are interesting initiatives at Groningen, Colorado and Humboldt universities. 

The videos can help decode the mysteries of circuitry and reveal the industry work-arounds. It is also a miracle that this equipment is still in working order, and this is due to the dedicated private collectors, the owners and maintainers. Museum display equipment may look spectacular, but if it is not maintained, it loses its ability to speak to us. Our material is intended to restore at least some of that ability, to bring the  back to life.

The ADAPT project received funding from the European Research Council (ERC) under the European Union’s Horizon 2020 research and innovation programme (grant agreement No 323626).

John Ellis has been Professor of Media Arts at Royal Holloway University of London since 2002 and was the principal investigator on the ADAPT project. He began his career teaching film studies at the University of Kent, and published Visible Fictions in 1982. That year, he set up, with two other producers, the independent TV company Large Door www.largedoorltd.com and produced TV documentaries for the next two decades. He is now the chair of Learning on Screen and an editor of View, the online peer reviewed journal of European TV history www.viewjournal.eu His other books include Documentary: Witness and Self-revelation (2012) and Seeing Things (2000). The ADAPT project was funded by the European Research Council (ERC) under the European Union’s Horizon 2020 research and innovation programme (grant agreement No 323626).

Disclaimer: The IAMHIST Blog is a platform that offers individual scholars the opportunity to present their work and thoughts. They alone are responsible for the content, which does not represent the view of the IAMHIST council or other IAMHIST members.

A Day at the Archives… Centre National De L’Audiovisuel (CNA)

Alessandra Luciano, CNA

9 October 2018

This blog post will focus on the Centre national de l’audiovisuel in Luxembourg, which can be summarised as the national audiovisual archive. However, it is more than a repository for national heritage, situated at the crossroads of multiple roles; it often reflects the current status of Luxembourg’s cultural landscape.

I will briefly address its politics and missions, but as I am the collection manager for the moving image archives at the film-tv department, I will focus primarily on our film, television and amateur film collections.

The Centre national de l’audiovisuel (CNA) is at the crossroads of multiple and different institutions. Indeed, we are an archive which has to preserve the Luxembourgish moving image, photography and sound archives for the future. We are also a museum, with two permanent collections on display Edward Steichen’s The Family of Man in Clervaux Castle in the north of the country (location chosen by Steichen himself), and The Bitter Years located in Dudelange on a renovated industrial site. These collections are complimented by rotating exhibitions in our gallery spaces. These mainly photographic exhibitions are either contemporary or archival. We also produce and help to further young talent or established artists. The film-tv department, amongst other tasks, sponsors pre-production of films that either use archival material from our own collections, or sometimes, when budgets and time permit, produce documentaries. Similar, the sound department records new CDs and also assists in the recordings of new musical pieces. One of my favourite projects is the recording of new scores by historical Luxembourgish musicians that have never been recorded before, thus not only preserving the paper records but creating new archival items. The photo department also, besides its archival work, sponsors new photographers and their activity through different scholarships. These can either be used to encourage an artist’s development or to help an existing photographer to publish her work. Finally, we also have a pedagogy department, which sets up various workshops and training opportunities for kids, adolescents, adults, but also professionals. These are often in collaboration with international experts. Thus, the CNA is both an open platform for the general public and a professional institution.

Figure 1: © CNA, photograph or original document outlining the CNA’s mission by Minister Robert Krieps 1988

The CNA is placed under the helm of the Ministry of Culture, and has been governed by the 2004 laws that have re-organised the cultural institutions in Luxembourg. This is crucial as this legislation defined the different missions and roles the CNA has to play in Luxembourg and denotes boundaries in terms of what we do in regard to other cultural heritage institutions. However, the Centre national de l’audiovisuel was created much earlier in 1989. Its creation was a clear and conscious attempt at creating an infrastructure that would be responsible not only for the preservation of audiovisual heritage (film, photography and sound), but also the education of new means of communication and storytelling that would capture the present, preserve the past and work toward the future. Its missions are the conservation and enhancement of Luxembourg’s audiovisual heritage and to ensure that all members of the public can access its sound, moving image, and photographic collections through exhibitions, publications, screenings, conferences and other events.

The end of the 1980s is not coincidental, but can be attributed to a larger understanding of shifting cultural perspective and production. Concerning film for example, the 1980s are often referred to as the birth of modern day cinema in Luxembourg. Whereas of course Luxembourg already had a history in commercial broadcasting (radio and television), and several films were made (professionally and amateurishly), during the 1980s tax incentives were created to allow a professional movie making industry to grow. Thus, with it was also born the notion that Luxembourg needed a national centre that would reflect these changes, but also preserve these legacies in the making.

Moving image collections, digitisation efforts and philosophy

CNA’s moving image collections are hybrid. We hold photochemical prints (8mm, S8, 9,5mm, 16mm, 35mm and some less standard formats such as 17,5mm and 28mm) and several videotape formats (1”, 2”, 3/4”, different Beta types), as well as either digitised or digital born items. The CNA acquires through two channels: legal and voluntary deposit.

Figure 2: © Archives CNA, sometimes this is how we roll

As such, since its inception the film-tv department has been tackling several collections that have been deemed a priority. The film-tv archives comprise some 200,000 items (film and video combined), many of which have not yet been itemised, or else only broadly. The archives also already contain many native digital documents. 56,000 documents have been transferred (from photochemical or magnetic to file based media), a portion of which will have to be rescanned to a higher quality. More than 400 feature-length and short films, as well as documentaries made in Luxembourg since the early 20th century (35mm/16mm), are archived at the CNA. The archives also house more recent productions in digital format, which have been added via the legal deposit route.

The film prints people deposit voluntarily, (and for which they are not always the rights holder) are mostly home movies, industry films or semi-professional productions. The CNA collects only national productions; international deposits are offered to the Cinémathèque de la Ville de Luxembourg.

Figures 3 and 4: © Romain Girtgen, CNA cold storage vaults for photochemical prints (6°C/ 40RH)

Under the legal deposit law, producers have to deposit every movie produced or co-produced in Luxembourg, with or without state subsidies. Broadly, this includes a preservation copy (a film print is highly encouraged) and an access copy. Legal deposit is the statutory obligation for every film, television, radio, DVD, Blu-ray and music producer to deposit the entirety of their production and co-production at the CNA. As a result of the digital revolution, the conservation of thousands of hours of audio and visual material prompts up many challenges in terms of technological adaptability. Consequently, the CNA aims at staying ahead of all the developments in terms of production and preservation formats, and storage media, which inevitably entails considerable budgetary and human efforts.

What’s more, since 1995, the CNA has been actively collecting, digitising and preserving amateur films  (9.5mm, 8mm, Super 8, sometimes even on 16mm) documenting everyday life in Luxembourg. This is still on-going; however, we had to limit our criteria of acceptance since we already hold over 10.000 amateur titles. This collection represents a unique eyewitness account of the life of Luxembourgers. It is widely used in documentaries, exhibitions, and conferences. Starting in 2015, we have also aimed at collecting and preserving some amateur films shot on video. This has proven to be challenging because not only were video cameras more affordable and easier to use, thus increasing the amount of items, but also the very bad quality of the tapes often make it harder to retrieve and reuse the content.

Figure 5: ©Archives CNA, amateur film collections – Kodak cardboard box for 16mm film – stamp reads “Belgisch Congo Belge”

Whereas our collections on photochemical prints are in good condition (we suffer some damage from vinegar syndrome), the state of our magnetic tape collections is in parts unknown. Therefore, we have shifted our focus onto our very large television archives. The television video formats, used primarily during the 1970s and 1980s, are very fragile and must therefore be processed as a priority. Audiovisual heritage on magnetic tape is generally prone to faster decay and obsolescence, not only because the tape may be damaged but also because the playback and records machines have become sparse and the knowledge to use them has most often not been passed onto next generations.

Our television collections encompass all the events that shaped life in Luxembourg and the Greater Region from 1955 to the present day. The State is committed to preserving and making available the entire CLT-UFA historical archives. These archives (news bulletins, documentaries and miscellaneous reports) consist of 16mm film (from 1955 to 1980) and video material (from 1969 until the switch to digital media). The particularity of the collection is that it is not only Luxembourgish but we hold a large collection called Paris Television, as well as French and Belgium broadcast news adding to the diversity of our collections. Our archives are therefore often requested and used for international productions, film and television, but also for transnational research projects.

Figures 6 and 7: © Romain Girtgen, CNA cold storage vaults for magnetic media (16°C/ 40%RH)

Unfortunately, we can only provide access to our collections either on-site or via a file server system, if the item is available digitally. This however entails that the CNA staff has to research the requested moving image in our database, as such we cannot always follow up on every request, and we have to sometimes remind our public to be as specific as possible when looking for footage. Nevertheless, we collaborate on numerous film, television, exhibition or research projects.

However, the CNA is in the process of developing a new database, which will in the long term enable its archives to be available online, and for some registered users it will even be possible to buy archival items through the web portal. This is a large-scale undertaking that will take place in several phases. Following the structural work of the database (2014/2015) and data migration (2015) stages, a lengthy process will commence to bring the database up to standard and to correct the data contained therein. When the new database will be available for internal use, a later stage will enable Internet users to search thousands of photographs, films, television broadcasts and audio documents on an online portal. This project has further underscored the necessity of good and qualitative metadata collection, upkeep and information structure. Currently the Ministry of Culture is also aiming toward a national platform for all of Luxembourg’s cultural institutions to be available online for viewing.

The collected, catalogued and archived audiovisual documents constitute an essential part of Luxembourg’s national memory, which future generations can continue to experience, view and listen to. They also constitute an inexhaustible source of testimonies for those who not only wish to study Luxembourg’s history and society, but also that of its neighbouring countries. If any of this speaks to you or you have any further questions please feel free to get in touch.

As a sort of “appendix” I would like to briefly point out some of CNA film projects which feature parts of our collections that may be interesting to some of you:

a film by Anne Schroeder, produced by Samsa film in co-production with the CNA.

The film traces the great history of the emancipation of women and of the feminist movements from the very personal perspective of individual stories from the lives of Luxembourg women during the 20th century.

This documentary features private films from the CNA collection, as well as “official” archives.

Figure 8: © Archives CNA, Collection Gerty Beissel

a project by Willy Perelszstejn, produced by Les Films de la Mémoire in co-production with the CNA.

Ashcan was the code name for the secret prison in Mondorf-les-Bains where the Allies kept Nazi officials imprisoned from May to August 1945. One of the young American officers in Ashcan was John Dolibois, of Luxembourg origin and the future US ambassador to the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg.

How did the Allies treat their prisoners? What were they hoping to achieve by holding the prisoners in incommunicado detention? What information did the Allied interrogators seek to draw from their prisoners? How did they try and make them talk?

Based on the interrogation accounts, the documentary will plunge us into a fascinating investigation into an episode of the Second World War in Luxembourg of which little is known.

Co-production of CNA, Grace Productions and Samsa
Film, currently in development

Figure 9

In 1933, “Radio Luxembourg” began broadcasting in England, despite fierce opposition from the BBC, and became Europe’s most powerful commercial radio station. In its heyday during the 1950s and 1960s, “208 Radio Luxembourg, The Station of the Stars” was THE radio of the rock ‘n’ roll and pop revolution, a promoter of and source of inspiration for the greatest music stars of the time, from Paul Anka to Cliff Richard, from the Beatles to the Osmond Brothers. “208” represented the voice of freedom throughout Europe, even beyond the “Iron Curtin” and across Scandinavia, and left its mark on an entire generation. The film retraces this unique history, in particular via Villa Louvigny’s famous DJs: Pete Murray, Barry Alldis, Kid Jensen, Bob Stewart, Dave Christian, Tony Prince Benny Brown and Stuart Henry.

Figure 10

Alessandra Luciano has a bachelor in film studies from the University of Exeter and a master in film studies from Columbia University. She also graduated from the Preservation and Presentation of the Moving Image Master from the University of Amsterdam. Since 2013 she has been working as lead film archivist and collection manager in CNA’s moving image archive.

Disclaimer: The IAMHIST Blog is a platform that offers individual scholars the opportunity to present their work and thoughts. They alone are responsible for the content, which does not represent the view of the IAMHIST council or other IAMHIST members.

Dwight D. Eisenhower’s Television Crusade

Andrew J. Salvati, Rutgers-New Brunswick School of Communication and Information

6 June 2018

When it premiered on the ABC (U.S.) network in the spring of 1949, Crusade in Europe, the 26-part adaptation of Dwight D. Eisenhower’s best-selling war memoir was hailed as long-awaited confirmation of TV’s capacity for cultural enlightenment – proof positive that the budding medium could deliver more than vaudeville adaptations, B-Westerns, and professional wrestling matches.

Developed by the March of Time news film outfit (a subsidiary of Time-Life), and compiled from some 165 million feet of archival combat footage sourced from U.S. government and foreign repositories, Crusade was the first compilation documentary series produced especially for the small screen, and among the first television programs that could be seen in every existing TV market.

Broadcast at a time in which many of the country’s 61 television stations had yet to be connected to AT&T’s coaxial cable network, Crusade in Europe became a nationwide programming event in an old-fashioned, ad hoc way. Since simulcasting was still two years in the future, ABC distributed the 8½ hour series to national affiliates on film – a boon to stations whose programming options were otherwise live, local, and experimental.

For critics, Crusade in Europe demonstrated how the new cultural idiom might develop content that could inform as well as entertain. Praising the films for their insight and analysis, as well as the editors’ mindfulness of TV’s technical capacities, the influential New York Times critic Jack Gould averred that Crusade in Europe “illustrates the vast potentialities of television for visual education.” For the syndicated columnist Harriet Van Horne, the series set a new artistic benchmark, “the sort of program that adds dignity to a new medium that needs it badly.”

Dignity, however, did not mean tedium. For the nation’s early televiewers, Crusade in Europe promised a spectacle quite unlike anything else on television at the time. As the entertainer Bob Hope observed, when a new episode came on the air, “the family and kids at home drop everything, even the comics, to watch it.” Here was “the suspense and heroism of the war years,” one advertisement crowed, a dramatic visualization of World War II “as told by the man who guided and led the Allies to victory.”

Of course, the TV version of Ike’s memoir would incorporate significant contributions from the March of Time staff. Led by Richard de Rochemont and veteran producer Arthur Tourtellot, the production had involved organizing the general’s 478-page narrative into twenty-six 20-minute installments and selecting the appropriate visuals from a mountain of archival footage.

But even while editors had enjoyed unprecedented access to classified material, occasionally they came up empty-handed. In these cases, they resorted to an old March of Time technique – they’d hire actors. Re-enactment had been a long standing, and well known practice of the March of Time, dating to the 1930s when the program had been produced for radio. Before the advent of magnetic tape recording and the proliferation of cheap, portable video equipment, cameras were rarely on hand when newsworthy events occurred. The solution for the March of Time – and for other news and documentary filmmakers of the era – had been to stage news events using actors, though sometimes they could convince the actual participants to recreate their own actions.

Following established procedure, the producers of Crusade in Europe included reenactments in order to bridge the gap in the visual record, or to illustrate the more abstract concepts and themes of Eisenhower’s book. For example, among the several lessons that Eisenhower had hoped his book would impart were the pernicious consequences that prewar isolationism and unpreparedness had on mobilization and training after Pearl Harbor. By way of depicting these lessons, the premier episode included a scene in which two actors, portraying well-dressed commuters (circa 1940), blithely discuss a newspaper story about Nazi aggression in Europe.

“The way I see it,” says one actor, “we stuck our noses into Europe’s mess in 1917 and we got nothing for it. I say we ought to keep hands off.” “Don’t give it another thought, Joe,” says the other, “with all that water between us and Hitler, he can’t hurt us.” Ostensibly oblivious to what lay ahead, the second actor then turns to the sports page and asks his companion, “say, what do you think the of the Tiger’s chances for a pennant this year?”

Eisenhower’s lessons, reiterated throughout the book and the series, had obvious implications for the present and future. At the dawn of the Cold War, the United States could not shirk its new responsibilities as the preeminent Western power in the new postwar world order. It had to remain vigilant against Soviet aggression, as it had failed to do against Germany, Italy, and Japan in the 1930s, and could not afford to relapse into America-first isolationism.

Crusade in Europe may have blurred the distinction between fact and artifice, drama and journalism at times by employing re-enactments. Still, series producers endeavored to represent historical events in a way that remained true to their vision, while utilizing entertainment strategies that would resonate with a contemporary television audience. Re-enactments, the March of Time filmmaker (and head of the outfit before his brother Richard) Louis de Rochemont once explained, were “frequently sharper and more detailed than the real thing.” His belief was that the use of poetic license could bring perspective to events in a way that strictly factual reporting seldom could.

The series conveyed a sense of historical realism in other ways too. In a somewhat curious, literary touch, each installment began and ended with a shot of a physical copy of Eisenhower’s book, which opened and closed on a relevant passage. Read by Maurice Joyce, the voice-over actor hired to mimic Eisenhower, the direct citations certified the authority of the TV adaptation, and provided necessary context and explanation beyond what was provided by narrator Westbrook Van Voorhis, the orotund “voice” of the March of Time.

In the end, the editors had produced an 8½-hour television epic, one that integrated Eisenhower’s command-level account with the characteristically didactic March of Time style that would have been familiar to millions of moviegoers nationwide.

Like classical epic forms – The Iliad, The Aeneid, The Lord of the RingsCrusade in Europe presented a grand narrative, fashioned in an earnest, elevated style that centered on a heroic struggle between good and evil, while also affirming communal values and American national identity.

In line with Russian literary theorist Mikhail Bakhtin’s understanding of the epic, Crusade in Europe presented a story of “the national heroic past: it is a world of ‘beginnings’ and ‘peak times’ … a world of ‘firsts’ and ‘bests.’” Rather than an account of primordial origins however, Crusade in Europe was a record of the war that preceded a new epoch in U.S. history – an “American Century,” in which the United States first emerged as a global superpower.

Eisenhower’s choice of title meanwhile emphasized the enormity of the undertaking, and left little ambiguity about its moral imperative. Describing the war against the Axis as a crusade – as Eisenhower often did, perhaps most memorably in his order of the day for June 6, 1944 – framed the world war as an existential struggle, a confrontation between “human good” and “a completely evil conspiracy with which no compromise could be tolerated.” Inasmuch as Crusade in Europe was a chronicle of events written from the rarefied perspective of SHAEF therefore, it was also a narrative based on fixed symbols, a distinguishing feature of the epic form according to literary critic Julia Kristeva, in which conflict is structured by eternal and irreconcilable opposites (good and evil).

Though little remembered today – the history and historiography of the American television documentary typically starts with the later NBC series Victory at Sea (1952-53), an epic in its own right – Crusade in Europe nevertheless provided television viewers a retrospective on the Second World War that broke new ground, establishing the television documentary as a legitimate subgenre in its own right. The critical and popular success of Crusade in Europe even inspired a sequel, Crusade in the Pacific, which again utilized rare archival combat footage in a grand retelling of the war in the east.

In line with Eisenhower’s intentions, the epic adaptation of his war memoir offered object lessons for present tensions between West and East. Like fascism before it, communism was portrayed as a malignant force that was irreconcilable with the values of liberal democracies. The “compelling necessities” of the postwar world, Eisenhower wrote, had left the U.S. and its allies “no alternative to the maintenance of real and respectable strength.” Faced with this new threat, the American people would need to prepare for a new crusade, one that would confront the enemy and prevail in much the same way as it had in the past.

As an epic of World War II, the March of Time adaptation of Crusade in Europe provided the moral arguments and justification for this new Cold War mission, reminding viewers of the sacrifices and hardships they had endured, and assuring them within a dramatic and entertaining context of the righteousness of their cause. Crusade in Europe thus remains a rich reflection of the patriotic aspirations and postwar fears of its time.

Andrew J. Salvati is a Ph.D. candidate in Media Studies at the Rutgers-New Brunswick School of Communication and Information. Andrew’s research centers on the ways in which American history has been packaged by popular media, including television, film, podcasts, mash-ups, and video games. His dissertation, “Small Screen Histories: Presenting the Past on American Television, 1949-2017” examines the ways in which historical documentaries and docudramas have constructed usable pasts relevant to contemporary issues of national politics and identity. His work has appeared in both Rethinking History and the Journal of Radio and Audio Media. Together with his colleague Jonathan Bullinger, Andrew has also published an essay appearing in the collection Playing With the Past (Bloomsbury, 2013) that discusses authenticity and the simulation of World War II in commercial First-Person Shooter games. Outside academia, Andrew has worked in television broadcasting for 11 years. He currently resides in New Jersey with his wife Liz and their two cats, Murray and Freddie.

Disclaimer: The IAMHIST Blog is a platform that offers individual scholars the opportunity to present their work and thoughts. They alone are responsible for the content, which does not represent the view of the IAMHIST council or other IAMHIST members.

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