For want of a better phrase, call it the sports-bar syndrome. Yep, every monitor on the wall looks a bit different, yet they're all showing the same game. The football gridiron's too yellow over there, and too red over here. And why is Terry Bradshaw so green?
In part one (PLSN, Oct. 2009), we took a trip down memory lane, with a refresher course on digital cinema and the evolution of 3D projection. From its beginnings in the 1890s through its “golden age” in the 1950s, 3D stereoscopic projection expanded and matured.
Even though they were introduced to the market in the 1980s, you can blame the World Series of Poker and ESPN’s Trick Shot Magic for their exponential rise in popularity. The subject at hand is the versatile lipstick camera, also known in the surveillance and security biz as micro cameras and spy cameras.
What thoughts come to mind when you hear the term 3G? Could it be that ubiquitous cell phone spokesman, touting their company’s latest network? Perhaps — but if you walked the aisles at April’s NAB convention, the video industry’s most exciting new buzz was evident at almost every turn — and yes, it’s also called 3G.
No, I wasn’t planning to discuss Ronald Reagan’s Strategic Defense Initiative, also known by the acronym SDI. Instead, I’ll discuss a more contemporary use of the acronym as it applies to our industry, and rest assured, it has nothing to do with ballistic missiles.
Samuel Ryder may have died in 1936, but that didn’t keep his projected 3D likeness from serving as emcee for the recently held Ryder Cup Gala in Louisville, Ky. Using the Musion Eyeliner hologram from Digital Illusions LLC, Ryder was able to walk, talk, and play golf as he did nearly 100 years ago.
It’s time for a break, dear readers; a break from hanging lights, calculating pixels, equalizing the RF mics and tracking down that lost DMX512 universe. When this issue hits the stands, we’ll be deep into the NFL playoff season, and so what better time than now to devote an entire column to a topic dear to our hearts — football and video!
On Feb. 17, 2009, at the stroke of midnight, an amazing era comes to a close, and another one begins. It’s called the DTV (digital television) transition, and as mandated by our good friends at the Federal Communications Commission (FCC), every chief engineer at almost every television station in the U.S. is going to throw the big “off” switch on their trusty old analog transmitters. From that point forward, all terrestrial video transmission at “full power” TV stations will be blasting out ones and zeros, as the sun sets on analog broadcasting. (Psst— Hey buddy, wanna buy a 50,000-watt analog transmitter?)
I had the good fortune to have met him — an honor that I cherish to this day. During the 1970s and 1980s, I also had the good fortune to have worked at the company that he founded — the company that invented videotape recording. At that time, the company was a powerhouse, 6,000 strong and the dominant worldwide force in the AV industry. To this day, the work ethic that was a part of the company’s very name remains a fundamental part of my own ethic.
If you’d like the full surround sound version of this column, I’d recommend playing Bob Dylan’s “The Times They are A-Changin’ ” as you read along. I recently had the opportunity to shoot with a Sony XDCAM-EX, a new full-featured professional camcorder that offers HD resolution up to 1080i, at a very economical price point. The differentiating factor, though, is that the model EX records on high speed, high capacity “SxS” memory cards, and this presents a few workflow surprises to the shooter.
Just about 150 years ago, at a performance of Charles Dickens’ The Haunted Man, audiences were astonished when they witnessed a remarkable visual effect — one in which ghostly images appeared on stage, side-by-side with real actors. The magical illusion was created in 1862 by an inventor named Henry Dircks. But because the illusion required an almost complete reconstruction of a theatre, the concept garnered little attention — until a young chemist name John Henry Pepper witnessed the illusion and modified it for easy incorporation into existing theatres.
When I’m not writing about video for PLSN or tracking down the latest video innovations on the concert stage, I make my living writing technical manuals for my clients. Way back in the last century, when the mighty Ampex was downsizing, I left the company to start my own business thinking that I could make a living producing sales, training, and marketing videos for broadcast manufacturers. However, a trend soon emerged after the first few dozen cold calls. Potential clients told me that their customers loved their products, but hated their manuals (and since this is a fine, respectful publication, we can’t print the client’s actual descriptions of their own manuals).