
Why is the BBC cutting coverage of Edinburgh's festivals?
A dedicated pop-up venue to host live broadcasts and recordings has been dropped, despite thousands of ticket-holders flocking to shows and events over the three-week festival.
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The BBC, which launched its own venue in 2011, will instead use spaces at the Pleasance Courtyard and the EICC for a scaled-down programme.
The BBC had gradually expanded its summer festivals coverage by making some of its best-known Radio Scotland and UK network radio programmes at the pop-up site.
But the cultural celebration appears to have fallen victim to a long-running spending squeeze within the BBC, which has been lobbying for reform of the licence fee ahead of its current charter ending in 2027.
The BBC's income is said to have fallen by around 30 per cent in real terms since 2010 because the licence fee has not been increased in line with inflation.
Director-general Tim Davie, who told the Scottish Parliament in January that the broadcaster was having to operate under 'very tight financial constraints."
The BBC has revealed that it is having to make around £700 million worth of annual savings to balance its books.
Earlier this month Mr Davie made a fresh call for reform of the licence fee and called for an investigation into the impact of what he described as 'begrudging, grinding cuts.'
BBC Scotland has become embroiled in a number of controversies over its output in Scotland, most recently after announcing plans to bring the long-running soap opera River City to an end.
More than 12,000 supporters have backed a petition to save the show, while a politicians joined cast and crew to stage a protest outside the Scottish Parliament building at Holyrood. The BBC said the show, which has been on air since 2002 and is due to end in the autumn of 2026, was no longer offering "value for money."
There was anger last year over a shake-up in Radio Scotland's music programming and its impact on long-running specialist shows on jazz, classical music and piping.
The BBC also came came under fire when it announced that its hour-long news programme The Nine would be scrapped just five years after its launch on a new BBC Scotland channel and replaced with a new early evening show, The Seven, which was launched in January.
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Daily Mirror
36 minutes ago
- Daily Mirror
Dave Myers' widow details two poignant wishes following Hairy Biker's death
The widow of TV chef Dave Myers, best known as one half of the Hairy Bikers, has candidly shared how she has been dealing with grief and the many different challenges The grieving widow of legendary TV presenter and chef Dave Myers has recalled two poignant wishes following his death. Dave Myers, found fame alongside Si, his friend of 30 years, as part of the motorcycle-riding cooking duo The Hairy Bikers, married Liliana Orzac in 2011. The pair met in Romania when he was filming the famous series for the BBC. She was a single mum with two children, working long hours at a modest hotel in Maramures, Romania while Dave, then 47, was a popular face on TV, whose programme was about to attract millions of viewers. Yet, the chemistry was there and, within two years, Liliana moved to the UK to live with Dave and in 2011 the couple tied the knot in Barrow-in-Furness, Cumbria, in front of 150 guests. But just two years after being diagnosed with cancer the popular TV presenter died in February 2024 with Si by his side. Just over a year his after passing, Dave's wife Liliana Myers revealed her struggle with the loss of her soulmate. She candidly shared how she has been dealing with grief and the many different challenges. In her moving message, Liliana shared: "Three distinct experiences to report. I had my motorbike training yesterday and driving over there I was having thoughts of giving up. "Because I'd made mistakes and wobbled before, and I did not want to waste anyone's time on me. Mark, my instructor from Darbyshire motorcycle school, is the most caring person I met and he told me this. 'Lil, you can't just give up now. So many people are looking up on you as a model. You now have a voice'. Boommm... that opened my eyes." Earlier this year, Liliana revealed she has penned memoir, in a bid to honour the life of the much-loved TV chef. Announcing the new book, she said: "This past year has been incredibly challenging for me on many levels!!! But guess what? I used all my creative side and honoured Dave by writing his story. Our story. "Today is the reveal!!!" The book, Adapted from Dave And Me, will delve deeper into her life with and without Dave as the widow shares her journey from meeting Dave to his tragic demise. In her interview with the Daily Mail, Liliana said: "The truth is I do wish I'd met Dave a lot earlier in my life and I do wish I'd had more time to feel loved by him and to make him see how much happiness he brought into my world. Into the whole world." She went on to say: " I tell myself it didn't matter how much I loved him or how much he wanted to live, it wasn't going to happen and so the 'why' questions are pointless. "The longer you stay in the 'why' zone, the more prolonged the grief and the more complicated it becomes, so I'm going to try instead to focus on the wonderful 20 years Dave gave me. But I will always wish we had met earlier in life. I wish. I wish."

The National
41 minutes ago
- The National
Poetry's curious relationship with power is seen in stone voices
This week, lines from three of our National Makar's works were unveiled on the wall – from Liz Lochhead, Jackie Kay and Kathleen Jamie. The method is beautiful. Words are carved into geologically specific types of Scottish stone – Achnaba Schist from Lochgilphead for Liz; Ailsa Craig granite from Ayrshire for Jackie; Dalbeattie granite from Dumfriesshire for Kathleen. Stone voices indeed, as Neal Ascherson once put it. These new rocks disturb another kind of ancient continuity. For the first 10 years of the wall, as chosen by an all-male panel, there were no female writers (the worker-poet Mary Brooksbank was included in 2009, along with Norman MacCaig). READ MORE: Jeremy Corbyn says police 'picked on him' as Gaza protest case dropped Rennie Mackintosh, RLS, Gray, Henderson, MacCaig, Morgan, two from Burns, three from MacDiarmid … Many of the quotes are undeniably inspirational (I hold close to me MacDiarmid's 'Scotland small? 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Jamie's contribution initially seems a little psychedelic (which I welcome): 'Be brave: by the weird-song in the dark you'll find your way'. Until you realise that this was one of the weekly poems she composed through the referendum year of 2014. 'Weird-song in the dark' seems all too descriptive of the goal of indy right now. So if this is largely 'patriotic verse' – and it would be a pluralistic Parliament wall that had anything else – it's our love of a complex and surprising, rather than purist and monolithic nation that's being articulated here. It looks like there are scores of other potential poetic gaps in the Canongate Wall. Let's see what treasures will be selected under the conditions of a future Scotland. Poetry and power, as I survey the landscape locally and globally, have a curious relationship. The great modern Scottish poet Don Paterson, in his impressive (and funny) 2017 book The Poem, reminds us that poetry has the deepest roots. It stems from the need of pre-literate humans to share information – emotive stories as well as hard facts – about what might aid their survival, via intensely memorable forms of speech and language. However, while prose evokes, says Paterson – it specifies the item required – poetry invokes, 'calling down its subject from above'. This is a magical-seeming process in which 'audience and artist collude', both agreeing to 'create the poem, through the investment of an excess of imaginative energy'. Look around the interwebs, and this is the role that poetry is still being given, when it's discussed in the public sphere. Charley Locke in The New York Times earlier this year wrote about 'the morning ritual that helps me resist the algorithm'. Which is that, upon waking, she doesn't reach for her phone, but tries to memorise a poem with pen and paper. This poem-ingestion has 'made me better at noticing', says Locke. 'The particularity of a poem, rolling around in the back of my head, reminds me how to look for repetition and snags elsewhere, to hear both text and subtext. 'I think I'm more perceptive, a better observer of both art and the people I love … In my idle mind, instead of defaulting to whatever demands my attention, I move toward a precise, generous beauty,' Locke concludes. Poetry as an 'excess investment of imaginative energy' looms large in the writings of Franco 'Bifo' Berardi. Bifo is a wild-haired Italian radical from the 1970s (who is also a conceptual darling of the contemporary art circuit). He redefines poetry as 'the error' (in any piece of culture, not just words on a page) 'that leads to the discovery of new continents of meaning … The excess that contains new imaginations and new possibilities'. Berardi counterposes this 'poetry' to our over-measured, over-surveilled, depression-inducing, tech-dominated present. He urges young folks, diminished by apprehension about their future prospects, to practice it furiously – and replenish themselves. These poetic activities sound like the spoken-word, 'slam' poetry scene of the early 2000s in Scotland, as described by Jenny Lindsay in the Scottish-themed edition of the current Irish Pages. Going by the mantra 'if it doesn't exist, create it!', Lindsay recalls that 'we wrote for audiences, not for snooty poets and writers. And the liveness was key, the audience reaction our main critic'. The 'scene' (as Lindsay describes it) fell prey to culture wars, entertainingly described by poetry maven Colin Waters as 'a punch-up in a phone box'. Yet Lindsay also profiles how social media, and the marketed self it enables, has also changed – or perhaps incorporated – the pathways of poets. She notes Rupi Kaur's 4.4 million followers on Instagram, her self-help poems accompanied by evocative line drawings. This produced a first volume that sold two million book copies. Perhaps the algorithms might not be so antipathetic to the poetic voice, after all … I guess it depends on the poetry – whether, as Ezra Pound once put it, it's 'the news that stays news'. This week in Glasgow's Kelvin Hall, I was speaking on a panel to commemorate the centenary of a Scot who troublingly exemplifies Berardi's version of the disruptively 'poetic': Alexander Trocchi. Situationist; writer of manifestos, existential novels, pornography (and poetry); both publisher of Beckett and Neruda, and drug dealer/pimp …Trocchi crashed the doors of the palace of excess, in both constructive and destructive ways. Read his essay in the Scottish New Saltire journal of 1962, The Invisible Insurrection Of A Million Minds, and it remains spookily relevant to our times. Think of this in the context of memes and networks: 'We envisage an organisation whose structure and mechanisms are infinitely elastic; we see it as the gradual crystallisation of a regenerative cultural force, a perpetual brainwave, creative intelligence everywhere recognising and affirming its own involvement … Trocchi describes further this poetic action: 'Without indignation, by a kind of mental ju-jitsu that is ours by virtue of intelligence, of modifying, correcting, polluting, deflecting, corrupting, eroding, outflanking … inspiring what we might call the invisible insurrection.' READ MORE: Charles Rennie Mackintosh building 'at significant risk' from O2 ABC plan Insurrection out of what, against what, though? I can see the current terrain clearly enough. Levels of trust in politics and business-as-usual are vertiginously low; the very worst could be the beneficiaries of it. Empowerment at the everyday level has to be paid much, much more than the present lip-service. All political classes should be on high alert. Yet the sight of poetry from socialists, feminists, decolonisers, aesthetes and idealists, carved into the stone walls of a (putatively) people's parliament, holds out some tiny prospect for me. Is national progress still possible in Scotland? Can we still work as if we live 'in the early days of a better nation', as Alasdair Gray's inscription (on Iona marble) puts it? I think the poets, old and new on the Canongate Wall, say 'aye'.


Press and Journal
2 hours ago
- Press and Journal
Aberdeen accordion player on decades of playing at Balmoral balls - and the time King Charles was late as he was 'watching Corrie'
When Frank Thomson first picked up an accordion at the age of 10, little did he know he would go on to become one of The Queen's favourite players. Frank's years on the squeezebox took him around dance halls all over Scotland, playing to countless dances spanning decades. He has even played the instrument before audiences in America, Canada and the Middle East – as well as all over Europe. But as he receives a British Empire Medal in the King's Birthday Honours, it's his royal connections we ask about when we visit him at his Kingswells home. And taking in the sun in his garden, Frank even treats us to a few tunes as he regales us with the story of 'amazing musical journey'. After treating us to a selection of tunes, Frank, who has three daughters, recalls how he first fell in love with the accordion 75 years ago. Frank, who was born and brought up in Perth but moved to Aberdeen in 1995, remembers when he started to show an interest in music. He recalls his father playing the fiddle and bringing home an old wind organ. But this was all while spending his working week in the banking industry. And it was only when he took early retirement in 1995, that he began to really devote himself to his life-long passion. 'I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life on the golf course, like all my colleagues,' he chuckles. 'But I got a call from the Royal Scottish Country Dance Society inviting me to play for classes and dances in Aberdeen.' As this new career took off, he became a regular on Robbie Shepherd's Radio Scotland show Take The Floor. And soon enough, he found himself bagging quite a prestigious booking… For 35-years, Frank played with Jack Sinclair's Scottish Band at more than 200 royal events, including the Ghillies Ball at Balmoral Castle and the Queen Mother's 100th birthday party at neighbouring Birkhall. 'We have lots of happy memories of the royal family,' Frank tells me. 'We became almost friends of the royal family, and it was quite special.' The Ghillies Ball was one of Her Majesty's annual highlights during her beloved summer residences at her Highlands hideaway. This tradition dating back to the days of Queen Victoria has even been immortalised in The Crown. It was arranged as a thank you to staff, and the first tune would usually be the Dashing White Sergeant. Experts say the event is private so no photographs or video are typically released – and it's only eye-witnesses like Frank who know what it was really like. It's said The Queen 'did every dance and would stay up late into the night to just enjoy it'. It's an event most of us would love a peek at, and Frank doesn't mind sharing some of his recollections of the annual tartan-clad extravaganza – and other special events. Including one where the serving monarch, back when he was a prince, offered up an unexpected excuse for turning up late… 'I remember one night it was a fancy dress party, which took place every summer the family was staying there. We were sat there ready to play,' he recalls. 'It was always judged by Prince Charles then, and the fancy dress parade was always at half past seven. 'But this evening Prince Charles did not arrive at half past seven to judge the fancy dress parade. And about 10-15 minutes later we started to get worried as everyone was waiting for the music to start. 'Turns out he was wanting to finish an episode of Coronation Street!' The King does appear to be a fan of the Manchester soap – having visited to mark its 40th anniversary in 2000, and even filming a small cameo. On the Queen Mother's 100th birthday, Frank remembers her rolling back the years by dancing the St. Bernard Waltz and the Gay Gordons. Frank adds: 'She was very gracious, very communicative, she loved meeting people and she was just a very kindly hospitable lady.' And he is just as effusive in his praise for her daughter – the woman who would go on to become the UK's longest-serving monarch until her death in 2022. The late Queen knew each of the musicians by name and Frank treasures the little interactions he was lucky enough to have with the historic figure. 'It was undoubtedly a huge honour and it was quite special because we were treated like royalty by the royalty,' he tells me. 'It is difficult to put into words. It's a period of my life I will never forget.' Over the years, Frank has won many awards, and his music has taken him all across the globe. 'The amazing thing is how the Royal Scottish Country Dance Society has become popular worldwide,' he adds with pride. Every summer he still attends the St Andrews Summer School – a major convention of dancers and musicians from all over the world which goes on for four weeks. So is he slowing down, now that he's in his mid-80s? Frank chuckles as he explains he still maintains a busy diary as he 'doesn't like to say no' to people. And it's recently been packed with events at Haddo House, with a snow ball he has performed at for 54 years on the trot, a performance with Fiona Kennedy and plenty more. 'It is about getting out there and enjoying yourself,' he explains. 'There is no better activity to do than Scottish Country Dancing, it keeps the mind active and keeps the body fit… That's what Scottish Country Dancing is all about. 'When dancers need hips and joints replaced like anyone else, they recover more quickly because they are fit – they're up and about in the ward before anyone else!' Ever humble, Frank 'thought there had been a mistake' when he was awarded a British Empire Medal (BEM) for his services to music and culture. 'It was unreal, I just thought there had been a mistake,' the twinkle-eyed gentleman tells me, still a bit surprised. 'I had to sit down and really nip myself. It makes me feel very very special. 'I'm quite humbled, but highly honoured without a doubt… 'There are nights in my sleep where I wake up and start thinking about the things I have done, and I wonder 'did I really do that!'' Why did Balmoral matter so much to the Queen? Everything you need to know about the Deeside castle fit for royalty