beranduegi
Monday. The newsroom at Argia magazine. Seven in the evening. The journalists Gorka Bereziartua and Unai Brea are giving the last touches to a script. I started talking with the magazine’s multimedia director, Axier Lopez. He asked me what I intended to do about The balde on the Beranduegi program. In fact, I explained myself very poorly. Their faces tell me that I haven’t cleared up many of their doubts. I can’t. I don’t know what I’m going to write either. The only thing I knew for sure what that we had to write something about the television in Basque that we like at The balde. While we talked, Axi went back to his meeting table, turned on a couple of lamps, set up his camera tripod and got the microphones ready. In just a couple of minutes, the Beranduegi series set was ready.
Beranduegi was aired for the first time in 2011. It lasted just more than 14 minutes and the first piece of news on the programme was the editorial staff’s ironic, daring take on ETA’s recently declared ceasefire. You realised immediately that this was something new. With regards to contents, they were throwing daggers in all directions. Nobody got away free. And, in fact, that’s one of Beranduegi’s key points: it doesn’t take the spectators to be fools. There is a lot of care taken with the contents, but there is no much self-censorship. They make reflections and comments that any group of friends or workmates might come up with. In itself, Beranduegi’s format is not particularly innovative, but we’re so used to the chicles and self-parody about Basques that a programme without an infantile approach seems amazing to us. The presenter comes onto the set holding the script in his hand. He puts on a jacket and a tie quickly and then sits behind the table. Everything’s ready to start recording. They didn’t always record on this stage. At first they used to film at the editorial staff’s table two metres away. Rehearsals and recordings are the same thing. Mistakes, accidents, laughter, last-minute changes... The filming is not stopped. Non-stop, without getting up from the table. Suddenly you hear a voice from the top storey. The journalist Lander Arbelaitz comes down the stairs with a suggestion. Xabi points out that he will be using different pictures as they go through the script. I sat down on the stairs and I wanted to see all TV gurus and experts who’ve studied expensive post-graduate courses sitting next to me. So many concepts, technology, chatting... The only things you need to make a television programme are talent and the wish to do it. Beranduegi proves that. And, paradoxically, our favourite tv programme in Basque is not shown on the television. That should be food for thought for several people...
Beranduegi was aired for the first time in 2011. It lasted just more than 14 minutes and the first piece of news on the programme was the editorial staff’s ironic, daring take on ETA’s recently declared ceasefire. You realised immediately that this was something new. With regards to contents, they were throwing daggers in all directions. Nobody got away free. And, in fact, that’s one of Beranduegi’s key points: it doesn’t take the spectators to be fools. There is a lot of care taken with the contents, but there is no much self-censorship. They make reflections and comments that any group of friends or workmates might come up with. In itself, Beranduegi’s format is not particularly innovative, but we’re so used to the chicles and self-parody about Basques that a programme without an infantile approach seems amazing to us. The presenter comes onto the set holding the script in his hand. He puts on a jacket and a tie quickly and then sits behind the table. Everything’s ready to start recording. They didn’t always record on this stage. At first they used to film at the editorial staff’s table two metres away. Rehearsals and recordings are the same thing. Mistakes, accidents, laughter, last-minute changes... The filming is not stopped. Non-stop, without getting up from the table. Suddenly you hear a voice from the top storey. The journalist Lander Arbelaitz comes down the stairs with a suggestion. Xabi points out that he will be using different pictures as they go through the script. I sat down on the stairs and I wanted to see all TV gurus and experts who’ve studied expensive post-graduate courses sitting next to me. So many concepts, technology, chatting... The only things you need to make a television programme are talent and the wish to do it. Beranduegi proves that. And, paradoxically, our favourite tv programme in Basque is not shown on the television. That should be food for thought for several people...
