Research at the Tyneside Cinema
The first afternoon of my mini-residency at the Tyneside Cinema I interviewed Jonny Tull, met some other staff, skulked and took photos, followed Adam Sloanes round the projection rooms and generally felt my head exploding with information and stimuli.
Thanks to Jonny and Adam in particular.
Jonny has three main roles, which he explained to me because one of the characters in my novel-in-progress
programmes and manages an independent cinema, smaller than the Tyneside. Jonny is Cinema Programme Manager, runs the Marketing Department and heads Sales, which includes box office, the Friends scheme and gift vouchers. He programmes everything we see on screen, mainly co-ordinating with Madeleine Mullett of City Screen but also dealing with more local and specialised screenings. As a writer of fiction, latching onto the human story rather than the business aspects, I found him a bit of an inspiration because he started here as an usher in June ’94: ‘I thought it would be weird and it was. In a good way.’ He fell in love with the movies and the visions of the world they showed, beginning with Three Colours: White, the second of Krzysztof Kieslowski’s trilogy about liberty, equality and fraternity in 90s Europe. He worked his way up to become part of the new management that has transformed the Tyneside from un underperforming arts cinema and failing business into an exciting, accessible venue with three screens, four hundred and thirty-three seats, a digital lounge, heritage tours, a bar that hosts quizzes, comedy nights—and more.
Adam started working here last year as Technical Assistant, after studying multimedia computing at Northumbria University where I’m based. He showed me behind the scenes, into projection rooms which are as visually amazing as the wonderful1930s art deco front of house and cinemas: a peg board with about sixteen different sized spanners and four saws; swathes of cable; computer servers in Perspex-fronted cupboards; digital prints on hard drives delivered in black lunch-boxes; massive metal platters for 35mm film; a spiral staircase; metres of air handling gear in shiny square pipes that reminded me of the ducts in Brazil, even though I only saw it once decades ago; film being projected through the glass of the projection booth onto a white screen.
First impressions: all the circles to do with 35mm: reels, platters, cogs, lenses; more rectangles with digital (eg hard drives).
Initial ideas that might contribute to creating an exercise for the scheme I’m taking part in: Jonny told me how one of the house managers, alone in the darkened building while she was closing up for the night, saw a figure she thought must be an elderly regular who wears a mac. ‘Can I help you?’ she asked. She glanced behind to check that she’d shut the door, and the next second the guy had vanished. (!) The site used to be a monastery, as street names—Pilgrim Street, High Friar Lane—indicate. Intriguing. Why would a ghost hang around? What trauma or desire would keep them here? What would they see? Would they watch movies? Can ghosts hear, smell and touch? How could they free themself?
