A Sunday in April in Goring

Wedding Dresses and stuff

Saturday - and it's everyone to Pronuptua to choose a wedding dress ('Dad, just bring your cheque book!!' ). Sarah took a record 55 minutes to choose, fit and out (that's my girl). Jenny and Sue said she looked beautiful but I was not allowed to see...a bit harsh that. Then they all went to John Lewis to buy 'baby stuff'!! Then lunch at 'The Slug...'
Back to John and Ruth's house, as Sarah and Sue hadn't seen the 'scan' yet..

I have to say that I totally approve of the baby wear modelled here. Look out the Welsh!!

(click play)

'Micky Salberg' at the Watermill

Last Thursday and a trip to the Watermill Theatre at Bagnor. This is the second time this year. Previously (in March) we saw 'Merrily We Roll Along' (Stephen Sondheim. Dir: John Doyle). Past visits to 'Fiddler on the Roof' and 'Mack and Mabel' had primed me for this brilliant director's use of minimal stage space, big musical ideas and use of talented actor/musicians.

This musical progresses backwards (er...regresses sounds wrong). Frank is a celebrity in 1981. We watch his life rewind to where he, and his two best friends, began as fresh-faced students in the 1950s. “How did you get here from there, Mr Shepherd?” . This story in reverse shows that success comes at a price. It's a tale of crumbling relationships, disillusionment and unrequited love. In the second half of the play the story focuses on youthful aspirations, the pace quickens, the mood lightens and there is a very funny satire of the Kennedys in the Whitehouse. Good show, but we had lousy seats in the 'circle slips'. Great little theatre, vibrant acting space but some lousy sight-lines unless you are in the stalls or front circle. The Mill's got ducks too!
This week we returned to see 'Micky Salberg's Crystal Ballroom Dance Band' (by Ade Morris. Dir. Guy Retallack).


'Micky' is a three hander. A musical play set in Stoke in the 50's. Rock and Roll replaces the 'dance band'. Post war Polish immigrants struggle for acceptance, a love/hate affair with a 'Stokey' lad, cultural clashes and great music. very enjoyable evening with, again, multitalented actors playing several instruments, singing and acting (often all at the same time). The curtain call featured the players letting rip with rock and roll classics. Timely Jewish humour acted as a telling contrast to the tragic history of the protagonists.

This is the set.

I particularly enjoyed the performance of Pam Jolley as Samuella Salberg (playing saxaphone and clarinet and keyboard and, eventually, singing). I have previously enjoyed her performance in 'The Blonde Bombshells of 1943' at the Oxford Playhouse (see the picture below, she is the one playing the clarinet).

As You Like It 1967/68

Two things stuck me about this production:
1) Alan Howard has the most arresting voice I have ever heard. I have to admit to trying to copy it in nearly all my amateur attempts at Shakespeare.
2) The set consisted of the massive branch of a tree which swung impressively onto stage. I was amused to find the quote below.



"Two vast gnarled branches that swing out from the wings and that slowly become swathed in greenery as the mood of the play mellows. I have known productions of 'As You Like It' where you couldn't see the wood for the trees but Mr O'Brien avoids any arboreal clutter and, incidentally, provides two of the largest phallic symbols I have ever seen on a stage." Peter Ansorge, Plays and Players 8.6

Photographs: Thos. F. and Mig Holte Collection (Copyright Shakespeare Birthplace Trust)

Photographs and text used in this blog

I have, as you see, used photo's to illustrate some of the text in this blog. In the main I have used my own, rather poor, photographic ability. However, in some cases I have appropriated published images and text from the Internet and other sources. I have tried to refer to the provenance to each of the images and text that are not my original work. The blog is not, as you see, meant to profit anyone and may prove educational to those happening upon it. If the owner of any image, or text, used has objection to me publishing their work, or feels I have not given due credit, please let me know via the message board and I will immediately remove the image or amend the text.

Just tryin' to spread the word about stuff I find interesting,

In good faith

David

On Quoting Shakespeare by Bernard Levin

If you cannot understand my argument, and declare ``It's Greek to me'', you are quoting Shakespeare; if you claim to be more sinned against than sinning, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you recall your salad days, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you act more in sorrow than in anger; if your wish is farther to the thought; if your lost property has vanished into thin air, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you have ever refused to budge an inch or suffered from green-eyed jealousy, if you have played fast and loose, if you have been tongue-tied, a tower of strength, hoodwinked or in a pickle, if you have knitted your brows, made a virtue of necessity, insisted on fair play, slept not one wink, stood on ceremony, danced attendance (on your lord and master), laughed yourself into stitches, had short shrift, cold comfort or too much of a good thing, if you have seen better days or lived in a fool's paradise -why, be that as it may, the more fool you , for it is a foregone conclusion that you are (as good luck would have it) quoting Shakespeare; if you think it is early days and clear out bag and baggage, if you think it is high time and that that is the long and short of it, if you believe that the game is up and that truth will out even if it involves your own flesh and blood, if you lie low till the crack of doom because you suspect foul play, if you have your teeth set on edge (at one fell swoop) without rhyme or reason, then - to give the devil his due - if the truth were known (for surely you have a tongue in your head) you are quoting Shakespeare; even if you bid me good riddance and send me packing, if you wish I was dead as a door-nail, if you think I am an eyesore, a laughing stock, the devil incarnate, a stony-hearted villain, bloody-minded or a blinking idiot, then - by Jove! O Lord! Tut tut! For goodness' sake! What the dickens! But me no buts! - it is all one to me, for you are quoting Shakespeare.

Bernard Levin (from 'The Story of English'. Robert McCrum, William Cran and Robert MacNeil. Viking: 1986).

Don't you just love London?

http://ahds.ac.uk/ahdscollections/docroot/shakespeare/performancedetails.do?performanceId=11371

I have had a love affair with London since my first visit in 1968 (aged 15) to see Brewster Mason, Barry Ingham and Ian Richardson in 'Julius Ceasar' (dir. John Barton) at the Aldwych Theatre. I later met Barton on his visit to my school (Coleshill Grammar) 2 years later just about the time I joined the National Youth Theatre (working for Michael Croft in Zigger Zagger at the Roundhouse and touring in 'Coriolanus' ). That first trip to London melded with my first experience of professional Shakespeare had a great influence on my life. I have enjoyed both equally ever since. Later that same year I had the joy of seeing Dorothy Tutin, Janet Suzman (who I hear on the radio today talking about Zimbabwe) and Alan Howard (as Jaques) in 'As You Like It' at Stratford. But it was the first mix of LONDON with THEATRE that I found intoxicating.

The mystery and magic of London, for me, can be found in the unexpected places just happened upon. These special places, and the people we meet there, highlight experiences which form our history. They are memorials to and a celebration of, our shared past. They form a connection through time which facilitates continuity. The continuity of what Peter Ackroyd refers to as the 'English Music'.

I suppose the places which speak to us most directly are graveyards and memorials to the heroic dead. One such place I have visited on several occasions is Postman's Park.

Postman's Park is located between King Edward Street, Little Britain and Angel Street, and was laid out in 1880 on the site of an ancient burying ground and the filled in moat of the Roman wall. It was called Postman's Park because it was around the corner from the General Post Office sorting offices where Anthony Trollope worked in between novel writing. In the street, a statue of Rowland Hill, the penny post man, stands, facing the traffic, looking across to their long-gone offices in St Martin's le Grand. pews.
Aldersgate Street is on the far side of Postman's Park. It was on this street in 1735 that John Wesley had a mystic spiritual experience which led him to found the Methodist church.

But what Postman's Park is really famous for are the ceramic plaques commemorating men, women and children who gave their lives saving others. It was the idea of a Victorian painter, George Frederic Watts. In 1887, the Jubilee year, Watts wrote to The Times, proposing a national memorial recording examples of everyday heroism and self sacrifice. He quoted the case of Alice Ayres: "a maid of all work at an oilmonger's in Gravel Lane who lost her life (in 1885) saving the lives of her master's children".
Nothing came of the idea so Watts decided to create his own memorial here in Postman's Park. In an open gallery, roofed with red tiles, are 53 glazed ceramic plaques designed by the de Morgan factory, where the earliest ones were made. Later tiles were made by Doulton. The lettering is elegant, delicate and old fashioned

Many commemorate children. Edward Morris, aged 10, drowned in the Grand Junction Canal trying to save his companion when they went swimming in the summer of 1897. David Selves, aged 12, died in Woolwich Reach "supporting his drowning playfellow and sank with him clasped in his arms," September 1886. At 9 years old, William Fisher was the youngest: he died in Walworth in July1886 trying to save his little brother from being run over in the street.
The heroic Dr Rabbeth was treating a four year old boy for diphtheria. A tracheotomy was necessary but, since the child still couldn't breathe, the doctor used a tube to suck the infected matter out of his throat. Samuel Rabbeth, aged 28, died of diphtheria in October 1884. The child also died.
One of the last plaques records the death of Alfred Smith, a policeman, who died saving the lives of women and girls in an East End factory after it had been bombed by German Zeppelins in 1917.

Watts was a Victorian with a social conscience. Painting portraits made him rich and he spent his money on good causes like the Home Crafts and Industries Association which taught art to working people. (His wife held classes in their home.) He also gave money to St Jude's — now the Whitechapel Art Gallery — and gave his paintings free to galleries, such as the Tate, which had no admission charges. He deplored the killing of birds to adorn hats with their feathers and, what might seem to us odd (but was much in keeping with the views of the Pre-Raphaelites), he was president of an Anti-Tight Lacing Society which, presumably, was set up to encourage women to loosen their stays (Victorian ladies were so prone to fainting).

The City of London is only one mile square but redolent with history. Take time to look at the street names! The English settled there in the ruins of a former empire and were invaded in turn by Danish and Viking marauders, then Norman conquerors finally took over. It went from Celtic gods to Roman gods to Saints with quaint English names like Ethelburga and Ethelreda. Its guilds and livery companies are medieval. Its Bishop condemned Tyndal to death for anglicising the Bible. Shakespeare, it is said, stole an entire theatre, sneaking it away plank by plank at dead of night. Donne preached of death and salvation from his coffin at St Paul's Cross. The city financed wars and civil wars, survived plague, fire, bombs, Reformation, Regicide, Restoration, Enlightenment, and will no doubt survive all the modern ills prophesied by the Daily Mail. Yet here is set aside a little space to remember how a labourer called Richard Farris died trying to save a washerwoman from drowning herself in the Surrey Canal. Their memorials were unveiled in 1900 by the Lord Mayor and the Bishop of London who was, no doubt, happy to read the Bible in Tyndal's English as perfected by King James's Greek and Hebrew scholars.

In the Patrick Marber play 'Closer' a character takes the pseudonym 'Alice Ayres' from one of the painted tiles.

Much of this information regarding 'Postman's Park' is gleaned (with thanks) from the following sources:
http://www.victorianweb.org/art/parks/9a.html
and
http://www.urban75.org/london/postman.html