Making live radio is like walking a tightrope, for the host and the producer. But only the former is in the spotlight, so they get the brickbats and the bouquets. As it should be: they have to stay on that rope, aware that unexpected events can derail the most organised programme. Real life means control is never 100% and forward momentum is essential. Creating live radio – and listening to it – is dramatic, intense, and an adrenalin blast, a four-hour roller coaster.
Broadcasting Saturday Morning live from Antarctica with Kim in 2003 would have to be a highlight of my time producing (2002-2007). A long plane flight dressed in five layers of clothing, tossed into the cargo hold like the last courier package. Being taught on ice to erect tents to sleep in for the first night, in case of an emergency later. At Scott Base, setting up portable equipment to link with RNZ in Wellington, then after the 8am News, dialling the North Pole to talk to a Danish scientist as foreign correspondent.
On air, Kim said, “Staying at Scott Base for a week is like being stuck in a tramping hut with the world’s most intelligent people.” Despite all the interview prep, she still found time to pull down Apsley Cherry-Garrard’s classic The Worst Journey in the World, and make a dent in its 700 pages.
Her curiosity is insatiable; no topic is off limits. She will ask a question out loud – “Who wrote Pachelbel’s Canon?” – on behalf of the listeners, to whom it isn’t always obvious. Interviews are conversations – two way – so spontaneous questions or reactions are expected. They make for compelling radio.
In April 2002, when Kim took over Saturday Morning from John Campbell, with me as unaccompanied baggage, the programme was still evolving from Brian Edwards’ Top of the Morning. After the long interviews in the first half came the regular guests, all suggested by Kim: Paul Callaghan’s illuminating science discussions, Kate’s Klassics with Kate Camp (“Homer’s Odyssey is like a James Bond film: constant action sequences”), Mary Kisler on art, Matthew Trundle on the classical world and its relevance, Ken Laban with an alternative angle on sport, Kate De Goldi on children’s books, Bill Manhire or Greg O’Brien on poetry. Kim’s curiosity meant we experienced a wireless WEA (workers’ education) class.
Over the years, so many top-shelf international guests: David Bellamy, Jung Chang, Clive James, Francis Fukuyama, Rosalynn Carter, Frederick Forsyth (the Christchurch taxi driver insisted on taking him to ZB). If talking from foreign parts, almost without exception they stayed on the line to tell me, “That’s one of the best interviewers I’ve ever experienced.” After someone dropped out on a Thursday, US cultural critic Greil Marcus agreed to a risky live cross, which included many drop-ins of Like a Rolling Stone out-takes. (“Play the whole song, play the whole song”; of course we did, up to the pips.) Afterwards, Marcus wrote and said, “Thanks. I’d heard she was thorough and tough. She was thorough, but she was good fun.”)
Even more memorable, and crucial to a public broadcaster’s goal of reflecting its country’s culture, were the New Zealanders with “lives well lived”: Peter Snell, John Clarke (“any time, for Kim”), Celia Lashlie, William Pickering, Sheila Natusch, Sam Mahon, Burton Silver, Christine Cole-Catley, Lloyd Geering, Ngahuia Te Awekotuku, Tusiata Avia, Lance O’Sullivan. The shared tears when the Topp Twins laughed about their horses and pigeon poo in the water tank.
I became a guest myself on her last show. As I said to her on air during the final hour: “Kim, on behalf of us all, thanks. I think you passed the audition.”
