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Tuesday, November 30, 2004
News & Features
 

Akbar Ahmed named D.C.’s Professor of the Year

Former AU president Joseph Sisco dies

AU’s Grenada aid prompts ambassador’s thanks

Global report on child soldiers launched

AU Abroad numbers are on the rise

Communitarian guru outlines goals for new social order

D.C. restauranteur, partner share secrets of success

Greenberg seminars prepare PhD students for rigors of academia

Kojo’s crew

 

 

 
 


Producers play intricate roles at WAMU’s Kojo Nnamdi Show

BY MIKE UNGER
PHOTOS BY JEFF WATTS

Two minutes until air, and he’s gone.

James Jones is the author of Kinsey: A Public/Private Life, and today he’s supposed to join WAMU’s The Kojo Nnamdi Show by phone from Little Rock, Ark., where he’s slipped away from the ceremony dedicating President Clinton’s new library.

But Jones, who’s called in on a cell phone from the quietest place he could find—the bathroom of a nearby hotel—has become a victim of technology. Complications with both his cell and WAMU’s phone lines have conspired to sever the connection.


Photo by Jeff Watts

Diane Vogel

In the fourth-floor control room at WAMU’s Brandywine Street headquarters, managing producer Diane Vogel, producer Teri Cross Davis, and various engineers scramble to make some sense of the maze of wires, computers, and phone banks packed into the cramped quarters.

Just a few feet away, in an adjacent room visible through a thick panel of glass, sits Nnamdi, seemingly miles from the organized chaos of the control room.

“It’s not abnormal that it’s a little frenzied,” broadcast technician Margo Kelly says. “What counts is that it all comes out right on the air.”

Outwardly undistracted by the turbulence in the control room, Nnamdi welcomes his audience and another guest to the airwaves with the customary cool of a seasoned media professional. Eventually, Jones is patched through onto the broadcast and contributes a unique perspective to a fascinating discussion of sex researcher Alfred Kinsey’s life and career. To the listeners, it sounds like business as usual.

It many ways, it was. Producing nine hours of live radio a week perpetually presents Nnamdi, Vogel, and the staff of two full-time producers, one part timer, an intern, and engineers with unanticipated situations.

“You do get a rush when you finish the show,” Cross Davis says. “I try to remember that people don’t see what’s going on in the control room. The thing I’m thinking about is, ‘Does Kojo have the information he needs?’”

Conducting research on a plethora of show topics designed to stimulate thought and prompt debate falls largely on the shoulders of Vogel and her staff.

The behind-the-scenes work of the producers is invaluable says Nnamdi, who’s hosted the show since 1998. “The producers on this show prop me up. If it weren’t for them, I would fall flat on my face.”

No two days the same
Vogel’s workday begins around 9 a.m., when she arrives at the station from her Arlington home. She’s already read the Washington Post, and when she gets to her sixth-floor office, she scans other publications to ensure no earthshattering news has broken overnight.

An hour later, Vogel takes the elevator to the studio and distributes the “rundown,” a sheet listing that day’s guests. While downstairs, she scans Nnamdi’s mail, instantly identifying both must-see parcels and junk, and picks up a plastic mail bin filled with new, hardcover nonfiction books. The show receives eight to 10 new books every day from publishers and authors.

Vogel, a former education and civil rights attorney who started at WAMU as a volunteer in 1997, says that she and the other producers are voracious readers.

“You have to have an intellectual curiosity to be a producer of any talk show,” she says. “A slight bit of ADD is probably a good thing too.”

Back upstairs, Vogel sets the bin in the middle of the floor of the show’s main office, an open work area with producers’ desks lining the perimeter. Books, magazines, CDs, newspapers, and mail are piled on every available surface. Maps adorn the walls, and a large dry-erase board in the corner displays upcoming show topics. Confirmed ideas are written in black, proposed ones in red.

The topic selection process is collaborative. The producers pitch ideas to Vogel, who suggests them to Nnamdi, who accepts many, rejects a few, and comes up with some of his own.

“If you’re going to do two hours of radio a day, and keep it fresh and lively, it starts with having a variety of interesting topics,” Nnamdi says. “And that starts with having a variety of people. You can’t help but notice the diversity of this staff. We’ve got people of different ages, different genders, different races. But what you don’t see is the diversity of interests, which is not related to ethnicity, nor class, nor race.”

Once a topic is chosen, it is assigned to a lead producer, who is responsible for booking the guests and filling a manila file folder with research notes and suggested lines of questioning that Nnamdi can access during the broadcast.

“Scheduling live radio is tricky,” Vogel says. “Logistics are always a challenge, because [guests have] to be available between 12 and 2 [the show’s time slot]. We’re looking for somebody who is an expert on a topic, but who can tell a story in an interesting way and avoid talking in jargon. You also need a diversity of voices in radio because your audience needs to distinguish voices. It’s sometimes good to pair a younger man or someone with an accent with a woman.

“I’m looking for a range [of topics],” she says. “There’s social issues, international politics, local politics, cultural, historical, entertainment. We try to give a variety to everyone.”

A few minutes before 11, producer John Haas brings Vogel a script of promos that Nnamdi records daily at 11:20. She tinkers with the wording before handing it to Nnamdi as they go downstairs to one of the station’s three recording studios.

“I edit them for pithiness and readability,” she says. “I don’t want Kojo to stumble over anything.”

Nnamdi reads the promos with the silky smoothness his listeners are accustomed to, and the pair proceed back upstairs for last minute preparations. At precisely 11:58, they return to the studio for two hours of the roller coaster ride that is live radio.


Photo by Jeff Watts

Managing producer Diane Vogel and host Kojo Nnamdi prepare for a show earlier this month. Nnamdi has hosted the WAMU talk show since 1998.


A home run?
By 12:30, the show has settled into a comfortable groove. The technical glitches have been ironed out, the phone lines are lighting up like a Christmas tree and Cross Davis is receiving some intellectually provocative e-mails from listeners.

“We’re looking for e-mails and phone questions that raise a question we haven’t thought of or a line of questioning that we want broached,” Vogel says.

The lead producer can speak directly to Nnamdi through his headphones or communicate with him via computer. Today, Cross Davis keeps Nnamdi apprised of the technical difficulties and impending station breaks, while passing along some of the better e-mailed questions and comments from listeners. She also periodically reminds him to warn the audience that the Kinsey show focuses on an “adult topic.”

Today’s second hour, a regular feature called “Sporting Views,” runs much smoother. Former Washington Redskins defensive end Dexter Manley and former Post sports editor George Solomon are in-studio guests, and along with Nnamdi they opine on issues ranging from the Skins’ woeful offense to a burgeoning scandal involving the football program at Ohio State University.

At 1:58, it’s all over, another show in the books. Back in her office a few minutes later, Vogel sits behind her desk, every inch of which is blanketed with papers and orders shrimp fried rice and chicken with mixed vegetables in garlic sauce for her and Nnamdi. It’s a time to reflect on the day’s performance and set her sights on the future.

“In any week you want three hours to be home runs,” Vogel says. “You want two or three to be solid doubles and triples. You want the rest to be singles and doubles. I think today was a single or a double.

“Most of the time if I get a solid double or triple I’m happy,” she says. “In my mind, the difference between a double and a home run is almost undescribable. It could be where a listener called in or a guest made a terrific point that was unexpected. You hope you don’t get any strikeouts.”

 












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