Writer Peter Ackroyd, who will be participating in multi-media project by Radio 4, gets hot under the collar. Photograph: Eamonn MacCabe
It was with some horror that I read the following exclusive on MediaGuardian this morning: Radio 4 is to co-produce feature films. The network, which regularly broadcasts Afternoon Plays so weak and lifeless they make me wince, is to embark upon a multi-media project about London, adding visuals to radio dramas inspired by a story by Peter Ackroyd. These will then debut at London IMAX in Waterloo, before planned screenings across the UK.
While this move into visuals raises some smaller, project-specific questions (why the yawny, predictable London focus?), the bigger question it begs is this: do we want pictures with radio? A quote in the MediaGuardian story reminds us that "In Korea they are developing iRiver radio sets which can transmit images to accompany the sound and Radio 4 wants to be a part of this multiplatform revolution." Am I alone in being thoroughly depressed by this?
I don't want radio to be a multimedia platform. I want it to do more of what it currently does best, creeping stealthily into listeners' minds through words (and, sometimes, music) and tickling them. I want the quiet intimacy of radio to be cherished, not sexed up and almost certainly ruined. While I happily embrace technological advances that enhance the experience of listening to radio - I have rather more fancy digital radio sets and gadgets than a girl strictly needs, and still get a kick out of using Pause Plus when the phone goes during The Archers - I'm not so keen to witness radio becoming less like radio and more like other visually-driven media.
We've all done it, checked out images of presenters with gorgeous voices, only to be disappointed (I've never quite got over seeing that Charlotte Green doesn't have glossy red pre-Raphaelite curls). And any time spent glancing at studio webcams leaves you with a hollow, sad feeling because any broadcasting magic there might have been is instantly dispersed by the prosaic reality of bad lighting, discarded coffee cups and a presenter looking only into their microphone. That disappointment is because when radio works - really works - it's about a connection between a presenter and listener which feels one-to-one in your mind even though it isn't. It can be a friendly backdrop to your life; it can be something you seek for a specific programme or presenter. Either way, its pleasure is that it feels like a private relationship freed from the work of looking. If and when this changes, it will be a massive loss.
