Dead Air

In my time at the station, the entire place seemed preoccupied — not only with the Karen Heller assault and the boss's salary, but with a transition from analog to digital technology. During a tour of the facilities, the station's technology chief, Bill Weber, gave me a vivid sense of how far 'HYY is traveling, including a trip to the hallowed ground where Terry Gross's producers had been, just this past July, editing the show from reel-to-reel tape. Multiple staffers, however, who wished to remain anonymous, referred derisively to the manner in which a Marrazzo-led WHYY has become, like the man himself, increasingly business-driven and jargon-laden. The problem, they say, is a company too focused on "delivery systems" rather than the "content" the station actually produces.

"I think what has happened is there has been a tidal wave of technology that has blurred the vision," says Glenn Holsten, a former producer at the station who left a few years into Marrazzo's tenure. Holsten is perhaps best known for having delivered a visually sumptuous documentary on Philadelphia artist Thomas Eakins that earned airtime on PBS stations throughout the country. "Someone needs to be immersed, not in how you're going to share a story, but in what you're going to say."

The lack of storytelling ambition puts 'HYY behind marquee PBS stations like Boston's WGBH and New York's WNET, and even smaller outlets. Maryland Public Television airs more than a dozen local programs. And behind the strength of WQED, Pittsburgh doesn't just kick Philadelphia's ass in Super Bowlvictories. The CEO there came over in 1994 from a background in public broadcasting in New York, and today 'QED boasts six regular TV series and numerous specials, enough to populate "Neighborhood," an entire channel focused exclusively on local programming. It's the kind of commitment one might expect in Philadelphia, the sixth largest market in the country. But that isn't what we've received.

At 'HYY, there is no position for program development, responsible for crafting television ideas and finding funding. Those duties are shared by several staff members, which, considering how little the station is producing, sounds dangerously like saying no one does it at all. And despite heavy investments, serious equipment upgrades are still required.

This past July, for instance, when chef Jim Coleman came in to cut some shorts for the station, shooting had to be stopped when one of the studio's two cameras broke down. Both are roughly 20 years old - so old they include vacuum tubes, like early color TVs. "I think the problem was that I appeared to be green," laughs Coleman. A technician ultimately fixed the problem the old-fashioned way - by beating the camera on its side.

BEHIND HIS graying goatee, Bill Marrazzo almost always wears a smile. He dresses in suits that suggest he knows his tailor, and he has an admirable head of hair for a 58-year-old man, boasting thick salt-and-pepper tufts that nearly obscure a small bald spot.