Jean Collen's Blog, page 29
June 4, 2012
SINGERS
19 May 2012
Death of baritone Dietrich Fischer Dieskau
I was saddened to learn of the death of Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau yesterday. Not only did he have a great voice, but he was blessed with profound musical intelligence and insight into the lieder he performed so well. May he rest in peace.
Derek Hammond-Stroud with some of the participants in his “Art of Song” course at Canford Summer School, Dorset (1967.). I am standing behind him with the band in my hair.
I was very sorry to hear of the death of baritone Derek Hammond-Stroud in the obituary column of the Telegraph today. Apparently he died on 14 May and the obituary has only appeared now. In 1967 I attended The Art of Song course at Canford and Derek Hammond-Stroud was our course leader. He had a beautiful voice and I remember him singing The Earl King (Schubert) to the participants in his course. May he rest in peace.
29 September 2011
I was most interested to read in the Australian based Limelight magazine that Placido Domingo had signed an exclusive record contract with Sony at the age of 70. I made the following comment on the matter:
Placido Domingo signs an exclusive record contract.
My Comment:
This is excellent news. I hope that Placido Domingo will have a chance to record as much of the baritone operatic repertoire as possible while his voice is still in good shape. It is rare for a tenor to change to baritone at this late stage of his career, but Domingo always had a baritonal quality in his tenor voice, so I am delighted that he is able to carry on his stellar singing career at a time when most singers have retired.
Derek Hammond-Stroud – Telegraph
Derek Hammond-Stroud with some of the participants in his “Art of Song” course at Canford Summer School, Dorset (1967.). I am standing behind him with the band in my hair.
I was very sorry to hear of the death of baritone Derek Hammond-Stroud in the obituary column of the Telegraph today. Apparently he died on 14 May and the obituary has only appeared now. In 1967 I attended The Art of Song course at Canford and Derek Hammond-Stroud was our course leader. He had a beautiful voice and I remember him singing The Earl King (Schubert) to the participants in his course. May he rest in peace.
June 1, 2012
Duettist’s You Tube Channel on this site
TauberfanLehar2 on YouTube has taken some of my recordings and photographs from the videos I have uploaded there and used them to create his own videos. I posted the following remark on “The Earl and the Girl” (see below):
“This video is identical to my upload of “Queen of June”. I notice that you have duplicated some of my other recordings as well – not to mention using many of my photographs which came to me directly from Webster Booth and Anne Ziegler. Some acknowledgement of my material would be appreciated.”
If anyone has any suggestions about what I can do about this, I would be delighted to hear from you.
May 31, 2012
Life in Johannesburg and Kensington, Fifty Years Ago.
I was born in Scotland and lived on and off in the United Kingdom for some years as well as in other places in South Africa, but I have lived in the suburb of Kensington, Johannesburg for most of my life since 1957.
I came to South Africa from Scotland with my parents when I was five years old and spent my early years in Vanderbijl Park, a small town in the Vaal Triangle, where we knew most people. I cycled to the Vaal High School, coasting at speed down Faraday Boulevard in the morning and struggling uphill in the heat of the early afternoon.
In 1957 my parents made a sudden move to Johannesburg when my father was offered a job at Rogers-Jenkins with an old work colleague. The engineering company was situated in the Jeppe Dip of Main Street. Even in those days my parents were worried about the high crime rate in Johannesburg in comparison to our relatively crime-free small town. They put our furniture into storage and we lived at the Valmeidere Private Hotel in Roberts Avenue opposite Jeppe Boys’ High until we found somewhere permanent to live. I transferred to Form II (Grade 9) at Jeppe Girls’ High for the last term of that year. I was 13 years of age at the time the world was marvelling at the sight of Sputnik circling the earth each night.
My parents thought the roads in Kensington were far too busy for me to ride my bicycle to school, so I caught the tram instead. The tramlines were in the middle of the road, so I prayed that oncoming cars would slow down long enough to give me time to reach the tram and mount its steep iron steps. On the first day at my new school I dodged the oncoming traffic as I walked halfway into the middle of Roberts Avenue to board the tram, and clung to one of the overhanging leather straps as the tram hurtled unsteadily down Roberts Avenue towards my new school.
The conductor played a big part on the trip. He forced his way through the passengers to collect money for fares, giving tickets and change from the elaborate stainless steel machine attached around his neck with a leather strap, shouting, “Move further down the car,” to allow yet more people to squeeze into the tram on its peak-hour journey. “Hold tight, please! Move forward in the car. Kaartjies asseblief. All tickets please..” The ticket was to be guarded with one’s life in case the dreaded ticket inspector came on board. I didn’t know what the punishment would be if I lost my ticket, but I thought it must be jail at least, if not death by hanging.
In those days there was no such thing as off-the-shelf school dresses or gym slips. My mother had to buy material and take me to a recommended school dressmaker to be measured for my new uniform so I had to wear my Vaal High uniform until the new uniform was made. Girls in my new class eyed me curiously. One asked in hostile tones why I hadn’t gone to Queen’s High as the Vaal High uniform I wore was almost identical to that of Queen’s High. A kinder girl took pity on me and asked me to join her and her friends to eat my sandwiches with them at break.
On the first day I wore my brand new Jeppe Girls’ High School uniform, I carried my regulation panama hat adorned with a band in school colours. At the Vaal High, hats had not been a compulsory part of the uniform, although my mother had always insisted I should wear one to protect my pink and white Scottish complexion from the harsh sun of the Transvaal High Veld.
The only vacant seat on the tram that morning was next to a large, fierce-looking Jeppe girl who sported a severe pudding basin haircut under her hat. She had a prefect badge attached to the front of her green school dress. She glowered at me in disgust, seemingly at a loss for words. I summoned up a watery smile, hoping to break the ice.For some reason she was extremely annoyed with me and I had no idea why. Eventually she managed to speak through her rage.
“Why aren’t you wearing your hat? You are letting the school down. Put it on at once.”
“I’m new. It’s my first day wearing my uniform. I didn’t know I had to wear it,” I muttered, pulling the offending object onto my head, the elastic tight under my chin.
The girl softened slightly.
“If you weren’t new you would be in detention this afternoon, writing out two hundred lines. Never let me see you without it again.”
I learnt that it was a mortal sin to be seen without one’s hat at Jeppe Girls’ High! Apart from the fact that the girls don’t have to wear hats any more, uniforms of the Jeppe schools have not changed much in the last fifty years but they can be bought off the shelf now. The hard-working Kensington dressmakers of days gone by have long since vanished.
The red tram trundled on its way to school down the hill in Robert’s Avenue, past the suburban houses, interspersed with the Methodist Church on the right, the Kensington Hall on the left and the old low-rise, facebrick block of flats on the corner of Juno Street, which was used as an exterior shot on Egoli, M-Net’s erstwhile soapie.
Soon I was venturing further afield on the tram, even braving the trip to the crowded city on Saturday morning. Kensington remains much the same today as it was in 1957 with its neat suburban houses, the Jeppe Schools, the Kensington Clinic, known then as the Kensington Sanatorium and run by nuns, who later moved upmarket to the Kengray Clinic in Parktown, now renamed again as the Wits University Donald Gordon Medical Centre, the first private academic hospital in South Africa.
On the way to the city– “going into town” – the tram passed through the suburbs of Fairview and Jeppestown. Unlike Kensington these suburbs have changed in character over the years. In 1957 Jeppestown was made up of old run-down houses. Often the inhabitants could be seen sitting on their stoeps, which gave directly onto the Main Street pavement. Some of the people I could see from the tram were often in advanced stages of inebriation. Boys had their hair slicked back in the latest ducktail style, while girls had lips plastered with pale pink lipstick, and peroxided fringes and side burns. The residences of the Fairview Fire Station, where only the old tower remains today, looked respectable in the midst of the dilapidated houses.
Nearer town was a big Chinese grocery store called Yenson’s. People came from all over Johannesburg to shop at Yensons because things were very reasonably priced. Then the tram swept along its tracks on Main Street into the city centre with its smart shops, such as Ansteys, John Orrs and Stuttafords. Upmarket ladies of leisure from the suburbs, complete with matching hats, gloves, seamed stockings and hair newly set (sometimes blue-rinsed) whiled away their time, while their maids, gardeners and nannies kept their homes, gardens and offspring in pristine condition.
These matrons met their friends for morning tea in one of the big department stores. Starched tablecloths, silver cutlery, pleasing crockery and an attentive waiter who probably knew his clientele by name served them. They drank tea or coffee and selected fancy cakes from three-tiered revolving plates to the strains of a discreet pianist or Hammond/Lowry organist playing popular tunes of the day. They were further entertained with a dress show of the latest fashions on sale in the shop. The mannequins paraded round the tearoom, discreetly informing each table of the cost of these creations, which could be purchased in the dress department of the store.
Thrupps, the upmarket grocery store had a branch next to John Orr’s in Pritchard Street, so the ladies often rounded off their morning in town by calling in at Thrupps to discuss the cost and quality of the Stilton cheese with the grocers, and take some delicacy home as a treat for their hard-working husbands to round off their evening meal.
The centre of the city has probably changed in character more than any other part of Johannesburg. Many of the buildings remain, but they are used for different purposes today. The smart department stores have either closed or moved to shopping malls in the suburbs. The businesses which remain in the city have their solid security gates firmly locked at closing time. The city hall with its fine organ, was the venue for symphony and lunch-hour concerts fifty years ago. The symphony concerts are now presented at the Linder Auditorium in Parktown, and there are very few concerts held at the city hall these days. Even the fine central library has been closed for renovations recently. I wonder if it will every open again.
We moved into a flat in Samad Court at the corner of Queens Street and Langermann Drive. Samad Court is still here, but the flats were turned into offices some years ago. In the middle of 1958 we returned to the UK and when we came back my parents bought a house in Juno Street. We lived next to the tennis courts and bowling greens of the Kensington Club – I passed there the other day and it looks as though the tennis court next to our old house has disappeared. I wonder what will take their place.
Our home in Kensington (1959)
Our house had a coal stove in the kitchen where the food was cooked and we had a coal fire in the sitting room so we were never cold in winter as we often are today when we are trying to cut down on electricity usage, and there’s a shortage of gas for heaters. Periodically we would have coal delivered to our cellar from Mac Phail’s, whose slogan was “Mac won’t Phail you”.
My mother had an account with the local butcher and Ford’s grocery store and she placed orders at these shops by phone. She had leisurely discussions with the butcher about the best cuts of meat, and with Mr Ford about the quality of his fruit and vegetables. These orders were delivered to the house, and a quart of milk arrived from the dairy early each morning. I seem to remember that bread was also delivered, hot from the bakery. My closest friend at school was Daphne Darras, whose father owned the big plant nursery at the corner of Juno Street and Kitchener Avenue, the site of the Darras Shopping Centre today.
Jacaranda time in Juno Street.
There were two cinemas in Kensington in 1957 – the Regent in Langerman Drive where Kentucky Fried Chicken is today, and the Gem at the other side of Kensington, bordering Fairview. I remember seeing Julie Andrews in Mary Poppins at the Regent many decades ago.
My father took our dog for a walk every evening and sometimes he would walk to the library at Rhodes Park which was open until 8pm in those days. If he was still alive I don’t suppose he would risk taking these evening walks now.
Saturday mornings
On Saturday morning, the town was crammed with shoppers and cinema-goers. In 1957, girls wore wide skirts with starched hooped petticoats so it was a real crush walking along the pavement with all those skirts brushing against each other. Shoes with pointed toes and high thin heels made walking precarious, not to mention setting us up for corns and bunions by the time we reached middle age. My mother was adamant that I should wear sensible shoes with tickey (small) heels rather than hurple around in three-inch heels, probably putting my insides and my spine out of alignment into the bargain.
The Jo’burg cinemas were impressive art deco palaces, but the décor was enshrouded in a smoky fug, in an era when smoking was still allowed in cinemas – but not in theatres. I certainly wouldn’t survive in a fug like that now with smoking banned in public places, but it didn’t worry me then. We saw Debbie Reynolds in Tammy and the Bachelor in the Coliseum in Commissioner Street, where the interior was created like a fairy castle with little turrets and windows on the walls, and the ceiling a night sky of deep blue, glimmering with stars.
There was also the Empire and Her Majesty’s. Both these cinemas were sometimes used as venues for live shows, variety, musicals and opera. Stars like Johnny Ray, Tommy Steele, Tommy Trinder, Max Bygraves and Cliff Richard graced the stage of one or other of these theatres in the fifties.
The first variety show I saw in Johannesburg was British comedian, Tommy Trinder at His Majesty’s. I was mesmerised. “If its laughter you’re after, Trinder’s the name,” was his by-line. We sat in the dress circle and I was so excited by the experience that I missed my footing on the deeply carpeted steps at the interval, and, to my deep mortification, I rolled all the way down, unable to bring myself to a halt until I reached the bottom of the steps.
A year or two later, Cliff Richard came out to do some shows with The Shadows at the Empire. I didn’t really like that kind of music but I went into the city with some school friends to find a mob of people blocking Eloff Street outside the old Carlton Hotel where he was staying. They were all screaming for their idol, “We want Cliff…”. At last the crowd was rewarded when he appeared briefly on the balcony of the hotel to wave rather diffidently at the massive crowd to the accompaniment of cheers and howls of mad adulation from his besotted fans, who were oblivious of the fact that they were causing a massive traffic jam in the centre of the city at rush-hour.
The Music Studios
After I left school I took music lessons in town. I studied singing with famous British duettists, Anne Ziegler and Webster Booth in their studio on the eighth floor of Polliack’s building in Pritchard Street just off Eloff Street, and piano with Sylvia Sullivan whose studio was in Edinburgh Court in Von Brandis Street diagonally opposite the Jeppe Street post office.
Sylvia Sullivan Chorister. I am in the middle, wearing a hairband.
Anne Ziegler & Webster Booth (1963)
Sylvia Sullivan with her great-niece
In those days most music teachers of any repute had studios in town and their pupils travelled by bus from all over Johannesburg. My parents bought me a leather music case and I was always interested to recognise fellow aspirant musicians with similar cases to mine on the way to their music lessons at one or other of the studios. These days music teachers work from their homes in the suburbs and pupils are usually taken to their lessons by car.
Sylvia Sullivan was a highly qualified and gifted teacher of singing and piano. She took her work very seriously and expected her pupils to do the same. She was very strict but always gave credit where it was due. She was at her studio for early morning lessons, then off to teach class music at Parktown Girls’ High School and Nazareth House, then back to the studio for more lessons after school finished, until late in the evening.
Mrs Sullivan had a suite of rooms in Edinburgh Court, with grand pianos in the two bigger studios, and uprights in the smaller ones so that pupils could put in some last minute practice before their lessons. In addition to their private lesson she expected her pupils to go in to her studio early on a Saturday morning to work at ear tests, sight-reading and duets. Once a month she held a performance day when everyone had to play or sing to her and fellow pupils – quite an ordeal – but it got us used to performing in public and at examinations. The morning was rounded off with choir practice as members of the Sylvia Sullivan Choristers.
Anne and Webster had a large, airy studio, with an inter-leading office, and a tiny kitchen in the narrow hall, where pupils waited for their lessons if they arrived early. They had a Chappell Grand piano and a full-length mirror, so that pupils could look at themselves while they were singing, not only to make sure that their posture was good and they looked pleasant, but that they were opening their mouths on the high notes and singing with flat tongues no matter what vowel they sang. On the wall were innumerable pictures of themselves with various well-known celebrities, taken in their hey-day when they had been top of the bill on the variety circuit and, in addition, Webster had been one of the foremost oratorio soloists of his generation in the United Kingdom.
Changes in Kensington
Houses in Queen Street and parts of Langerman Drive are largely used for business purposes today. I remember two elegant houses at the corner of Langerman Drive and Queen Street when they were large private residences. Windy Brow has been used for various business ventures, while the other was demolished completely to make way for a garage, but most of the original Kensington houses are still standing. Kensingtonians are lucky that the CBD shifted to Sandton rather than to the East, so the suburb has not changed as much as many other Johannesburg suburbs.
When I look back on the South Africa of my youth and compare it with South Africa today things have changed so much that I sometimes feel as though I am living in a different country. But although there have been many, changes in Kensington, some for better, some for worse, it is still much as I remember it fifty years ago and retains an ongoing sense of community for its inhabitants.
Jean Collen ©
March 2010
NOISE POLLUTION AT THE SHOPS – GIVE ME SILENCE EVERY TIME!
Thursday is the day my husband and I do our weekly shopping. First stop is the supermarket at Darras Centre, Kensington, Johannesburg. When we began going there a few years ago I was delighted to discover that the store did not play the usual mindless music I had encountered in many other supermarkets. But in the last year or so all this has changed. The store now plays the radio station which goes by the same name as the supermarket chain, and as soon as I hear one wailing pop singer or another blasting forth loudly as I enter the shop, my mood is lowered.
A few months ago I complained on the chain’s Facebook page about the type of music played on the station and the high volume at which it is played in the store. I had a phone call from someone working at the station, whose job it was to create the playlist for it. She assured me that the station did not play constant mindless pop as I thought, but even included some classical music to please the minority of shoppers who like that sort of thing. If this is true, I have certainly never heard it! Apparently the majority of shoppers at this store don’t like listening to “funeral music”. Later the store manager phoned and said that if I found the music too loud I should speak to him about it and it would be turned down. On reflection, I did not see why the onus should be on me to go and tell him to turn the station down every time I go into the store.
This morning the music was as loud as ever – screaming pop singers shrieking inane tunes which are apparently recognised as music by the majority of shoppers who enjoy listening to it while they’re buying their groceries and their washing powder. I looked around to see who was shopping at 9 o’clock in the morning and noted that many shoppers were of my advanced age or even older – not a bunch of teenagers heading for a rave. I completed my shopping as quickly as possible so that I could escape the noise, wondering all the while whether to start a Facebook group to join me in a protest against the junk churned out by this station.
We proceeded to Bedford Centre where we always have breakfast at the Wimpy Restaurant there. The waitresses are charming and attentive; the food is always the same, so what can I possibly find wrong with Bedford Centre? Surely the place is ideal after the cacophony in the supermarket at Darras Centre? The management at Bedford Centre obviously think the place is a cut above the ordinary for their policy is to play blaring jazz singing throughout the entire centre. I might enjoy listening to a jazz singer if I choose to attend a night club, but I don’t want to hear amplified jazz singing howling throughout the centre. Bedford Centre did not subject their visitors to constant noise until five or six years ago. What makes them think that this innovation adds to one’s pleasure? Even a well-known chain of book and magazine shops plays their own brand of noisy music. How are you supposed to decide which book or magazine to buy with offensive noise blasting in your ears?
Not everyone has the same musical taste and I believe it would be far better if management in shopping centres and supermarkets stopped inflicting their taste in music on their customers. I was relieved to return home after the assault on my ears this morning. After all, isn’t silence golden?
May 30, 2012
The Queen Mother Opens Wheathampstead Secondary School (1967)
A lovely photograph of the Queen Mother at the opening of Wheathampstead Secondary School (1968). Vera Brunskill and I are in the background.
I taught music and drama at Wheathampstead Secondary School, Herts from 1966 to 1968 and have fond memories of the children I taught. My colleague, Vera Brunskill was a flautist and had a recorder group. She and I taught ourselves the guitar and worked with groups of children who were keen to learn the instrument in the days when the Beatles were all the rage. I have a recording of a number of the children who were keen enough to give up their break to come in to the music room to work at their singing. In particular I remember Reginald Dyke and Denis Andrews, who sang duets together, Sheila Faulkner, Mary Rose, Simon Hedley, and Jeanette Wright. I wonder where they are now!
Wheathampstead Secondary School library. Mrs Vera Brunskill (flute), Jean Campbell (Collen) (guitar) and children playing and singing Cheelo, Cheelo.
I directed several plays at the school and enjoyed the improvised drama classes, where everyone let their imaginations run wild, although imagination was often tempered with TV series of the time, notably Till Death Us Do Part!
From the Herts Advertister.
During the time I was there the school was officially opened by the Queen Mother. We all spent a great deal of time practicing our curtsies for the moment when the headmaster, Mr JD Thomas would present us to the Queen Mother. Her private secretary came to the school several months before her visit to ascertain what she would discuss with each person being presented to her.
Although I am British by birth, I had lived in South Africa and had studied singing with Anne Ziegler and Webster Booth, who were living in Johannesburg at that time. I was told that the Queen Mother would discuss South Africa and my association with Anne and Webster, whose singing she had always enjoyed.
The day of the visit was very exciting for staff and students alike. The music pupils and I played and sang Cheelo Cheelo, a South African folk song made popular by Miriam Makeba, for the Queen Mother in the school library. I still have several photographs of us in that performance, and being presented to her afterwards. She was very charming and I’m sure everyone who was present will remember that memorable day thirty-six years ago.
Me, Mrs Covey-Crump (in background) Queen Mother, Mr J.D. Thomas, Vera Brunskill.
I returned to South Africa in 1968, where I met my husband and married in 1970. I kept in touch with some of the children for a while, and with Vera Brunskill until the early 1990s. I was sorry to hear that the school in Butterfield Road is no longer there, and that it closed in 1987 under controversial circumstances, as it began with great promise and had so many wonderful open-hearted children and staff.
May 29, 2012
Book Reviews
Daughters-in-Law by Joanna Trollope
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I have enjoyed most of Joanna Trollope’s novels and this one is no exception. She has an excellent writing style and is always entertaining. She is at her best describing the dynamics of family relationships and excels in defining each character clearly and laying bear the niggling tensions between family members.
In this novel the parents of three sons, each married to a very different woman, try to play too large a role in their sons’ lives, as well as in the lives of their families. The plot shows how the sons eventually manage to cut their parents’ apron strings and take their place in the adult world. After reading this book I am not struck by the dramatic significance of each twist and turn of the plot, but by the subtle nuances of it.
Relish – My Life on a Plate by Prue Leith
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I have just finished reading Prue Leith’s lively autobiography and I enjoyed it very much. I am not particularly interested in cookery, but I have fond memories of seeing Prue Leith’s mother, the brilliant South African actress, Margaret Inglis in “Separate Tables” when my family and I were on holiday in Durban in 1957.
Prue Leith is four years older than me and grew up in South Africa so we shared similar childhood experiences. I found the account of her early years in South Africa, and later years in France and the UK fascinating. With most autobiographies and biographies, the years of struggle are usually far more interesting than the years of success, as the successful years often amount to no more than a brag-list of achievements and awards.
Although Prue Leith discussed her many achievements, her story held my interest to the end of the book, as her personality and humanity shine through in her writing. Despite success, fame and riches, Prue suffered her fair share of setbacks and she does not skim over the setbacks as others embarking on writing the story of their lives might have done.
Not only did Prue succeed as a cook and caterer, but she has published a number of novels in the later part of her life. I have only read one of them but intend to read the others in due course.
Girl from the South by Joanna Trollope
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
I did not enjoy this book quite as much as I enjoyed many other Joanna Trollope novels I have read. Perhaps it was because it was partly set in Charleston in South Carolina, and all the other novels have typically English settings with restrained English characters. I thought the author handled the American characters very well and created the atmosphere of the South very well, but, perhaps because I am set in my ways and thought I knew what to expect from Joanna Trollope, I would have preferred another Aga-Saga!
View all my reviews
Death Comes to Pemberley by P.D. James
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I thought that P.D. James captured the style and mood of Jane Austen’s writing in this book. She assumes that one has a thorough knowledge and understanding of “Pride and Prejudice” as she makes many references to Jane Austen’s book and even introduces characters from “Emma” towards the end of the book. The plot of “Death Comes to Pemberley” was slow-moving as one might have expected in a Jane Austen novel which concerned the minutae of the every-day life of the gentry; nearly three quarter’s of this book is taken up with the happenings of several days, seen from the points of view of the characters concerned in the murder. This necessitated a great deal of repetition of the events.
Jane Austen would probably never have concerned herself with something as distasteful as a murder, while P.D. James had to limit herself to a rather unremarkable murder mystery, quite different from the complicated modern mysteries she has written previously. After the mystery was solved I found the epilogue redundant to the plot. Why did Darcy and Elizabeth have to spend considerable time explaining to each other exactly why they acted as they did in “Pride and Prejudice”?
I enjoyed the book and admired P.D James ability to write in the style of Jane Austen, but I hope she continues to write classic murder mysteries and doesn’t repeat the Jane Austen experiment.
Passenger to Frankfurt by Agatha Christie
My rating: 2 of 5 stars
This book by Agatha Christie was different from the murder mysteries. It was written in 1970 and reminded me of Buchan’s “Thirty-nine Steps”, in that it was an adventure story where the aims of the people involved were unclear to me, and therefore fairly meaningless. The best part of the book was the quotation by Jan Smuts preceding the story: “Leadership, besides being a great creative force, can be diabolical…” I thought that this quotation could be applied to quite a few diabolical leaders, past and present.
I waded through this book, hoping that I would eventually be gripped by this tortuous tale, but I’m afraid I gave it up when I was half way through. I am too old to waste time reading books which are uncongenial and meaningless to me. I am glad that Agatha Christie did not continue writing novels like this but returned to writing tales of the detective exploits of Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple in the few remaining years of her life.
Love and War in London: A Woman’s Diary 1939-42 by Olivia Cockett
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This book focuses on the wartime diary of Olivia Cockett, which she wrote for Mass Observation. It is edited by Robert Malcolmson. Olivia was 26 when war broke out and is a singular young woman in that she had been working in a clerical position since she was 17 and having an affair since that age with a married man in his thirties, whom she met at work.
Olivia is a very intelligent young woman who read widely. She was not afraid to tackle authors such as James Joyce, T.S. Eliot and Bertrand Russell and preferred serious music to the light music she heard on the radio. Her liberal outlook on life is the opposite to the conventional outlook of her Man. Because they were unable to marry – even their attempt for him to obtain a divorce goes wrong – she has had two illegal abortions before the war.
She describes routine and unusual events of her life during the war concisely and without emotion or self-pity. Once I became used to her style of writing I found the book a fascinating insight into the life of an ordinary, yet, in many ways extraordinary, young Londoner during the war. I would recommend it to anyone who is interested in civilian life at that time.
Tulip Fever by Deborah Moggach
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
I have read nearly all Deborah Moggach’s novels and enjoyed them very much, but I put off reading “Tulip Fever” as it seemed very different from her modern novels. Apparently the book was inspired by various Dutch paintings which are shown in the book and is set in 17th century Amsterdam.
The plot is rather far-fetched, bordering on fantasy, quite unlike her other well-crafted modern novels. One has to suspend belief at the twists and turns of the plot and none of the characters are well-rounded. Perhaps she meant them to be as one-dimensional as the subjects featured in the paintings. Although there were references to streets in Amsterdam, Dutch phrases, Dutch names and characters whose main diet was herring, I did not get a rich sense of time or place in this novel.
I’m glad I read the book, but I do not think it is Deborah Moggach’s best novel and it might disappoint her admirers.
Letters and Diaries of Kathleen Ferrier by Christopher Fifield
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
From 1949 to 1951 Anne Ziegler and Webster Booth lived at Frognal Cottage, Hampstead, opposite 2 Frognal Mansions, where Kathleen Ferrier lived. The Booths became friends with Kathleen when they met her walking on Hampstead Heath as they were out walking their Cairn terrier, Smoky. Webster had been booked to sing a Messiah with her in 1951, but they were both very disappointed when she had to cancel this performance because of her illness. I was singing much the same repertoire as Kathleen when I began studying with the Booths in 1961 and they often lent me her recordings from their own record collection. Thus, although Kathleen had died tragically young when I was a child, I always felt a close affinity with this wonderful woman with the unique contralto voice of the twentieth century.
I was rather disappointed to find that Kathleen Ferrier’s diaries were little more than concert dates, occasionally with brief remarks about how a particular engagement went. On reflection, she was working hard so would have had little time to write substantial diary entries at the end of a busy day.
The letters more than compensated for the brevity of the diaries. She wrote many business letters to keep her very busy career in order. While many singers might have longed for more engagements, Kathleen Ferrier was overwhelmed with offers, to the extent that she often had to turn engagements down and beg for a few days respite from her agent, Emmie Tillet. She could certainly never have undertaken such a demanding career had she been married with children. Her letters show that her extensive American tours in the late 1940s involved exhausting travel arrangements. She had to pay for her own advertising, travel, accompanist and accommodation on these tours, so she hardly made a fortune at £50 a concert.
Her affectionate, informal letters to her sister, Winifred, her father and other friends were always bright, self-deprecating and humorous. Her letters of thanks to acquaintances were always appreciative and polite. Even when she turned down songs which had been sent to her, or engagements she could not undertake, she did so in a kindly way.
Once again, it was sad to see her grave illness taking hold so that she eventually lacked health and strength to write her own letters and relied on her help-meet, Bernie to write on her behalf.
There is a good bibliography,an extensive index of works in Kathleen’s repertoire, another of places, venues and festivals, as well as a general index.
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This was an interesting and unusual novel covering several strands: the narrator’s research into Daphne du Maurier’s work; Daphne du Maurier researching the Brontes in order to write a biography of Branwell Bronte; and Symington, the disgraced Bronte expert. I found it interesting how the author interwove fictional fact with the narrator’s own story, showing similarities between all the characters of her novel. It has encouraged me to reread my collection of du Maurier novels, and to look at Branwell Bronte in a new light. I would recommend this book as a well-written, gripping and unusual novel.
The L-Shaped Room by Lynne Reid Banks
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
This is one of my favourite books, which I read a few years after it was first published in 1960. It will be difficult for young readers to credit that fifty years ago it was considered a disgrace for a woman to have a baby out of wedlock and that her parents might disown her for doing so. The heroine of “The L-Shaped Room” even intends to keep her baby, which would have been unthinkable for most girls in 1960, when they were sent to homes for unmarried mothers and had their babies taken away from them at birth to be put up for adoption.
Sisters by Prue Leith
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I bought this book a year or two ago and had initially given up reading it after a few pages. I decided to try it again recently and was pleasantly surprised to find that I enjoyed it very much. Perhaps some of my enjoyment stemmed from growing up in South Africa at much the same time as Prue Leith did herself and remembering her illustrious mother, the late Margaret Inglis, who was one of South Africa’s greatest actresses of her generation.
Prue Leith had many cookery books published in the earlier part of her life. In the comparatively new genre of novel-writing she is very competent and the book held my interest. Perhaps she might have considered giving the sisters in questions more distinctive names – Carrie and Poppy can easily be mixed up. Carrie is not entirely likeable for most of the book, but (as in the advice given in most writing courses)she changes for the better as the book progresses.
My only criticism is that Prue Leith spent too much time discussing the food the characters were eating – or cooking! I suppose this is understandable as she made a great name for herself as a cook and restaurant owner.
“Sisters” is not great literature but it is a very enjoyable novel. Now that I have read it I look forward to reading more novels by Prue Leith.
The Middle Ground by Margaret Drabble
My rating: 2 of 5 stars
I am finding the book quite absorbing, although, since it was written in 1980, the feminist and political views expressed by the characters seem rather dated, in the light of hindsight. I expect they were considered quite unusual at the time. Later: I am afraid that as the book progressed I began to lose interest in the main character’s increasingly peculiar life, friends and acquaintances. I finished the book with difficulty and was very disappointed in it as Margaret Drabble has written some excellent novels and is usually one of my favourite authors. I fear this book is not in the same class as others she has written – or perhaps I lacked the intellect to enjoy it.
I have just read the fascinating story of three lively young South African girls who went to Europe in the 1960s to spend a year travelling from place to place without spending too much money on their travels. They made use of youth hostels and managed to go from one place to another by hitching rides. Admittedly they had strict rules about hitching so they never came to any harm. Somehow I don’t think it would be possible to do the same trip today as everything is so much more expensive and the South African Rand has diminished in value. The book is well-written and extensively illustrated. I recommend this book to anyone who would like to learn more about the girls’ fascinating European adventure all those years ago. The book is available in print and Kindle editions.
May 28, 2012
ANNE ZIEGLER-WEBSTER BOOTH: ANNE ZIEGLER & WEBSTER BOOTH IN BRISTOL
Audience at the Bristol Hippodrome (2011).
ANNE ZIEGLER-WEBSTER BOOTH: ANNE ZIEGLER & WEBSTER BOOTH IN BRISTOL.
ANNE ZIEGLER Hand-signed late 1930s 5.5” x 3.5” portrait | eBay
This very charming signed photograph of Anne Ziegler is currently on auction on EBay.
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May 22, 2012
CURRENT AFFAIRS
22 May 2012.
Kay Sexwale, the niece of Tokyo Sexwale, no longer does the “Talk at Nine” show on Talk Radio 702 in Johannesburg. I didn’t like her much when she first started on the show, but eventually I realised that she was highly intelligent and I liked her chat with veteran broadcaster, Ian Crewe after 11.00 pm. It was wrong of the station to introduce other presenters without giving any explanation as to why Kay was not there any more.
I believe Aubrey Masanga will do the show for the time being. I have nothing against him, apart from the fact that he doesn’t give callers time to voice their opinions because he is too busy interrupting them to voice his own. I always hoped that Eusebius Mckaiser would do that show because he is knowledgeable and articulate, but it looks as though he is no longer involved with the station.
11 February 2012
It is over three months since I have posted anything here. I made the following comment about Samuel Coleridge Taylor‘s Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast today:
While I was never lucky enough to see any performance of “Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast”, my late singing teacher and life-long friend, tenor Webster Booth, took part in many performances of the work under the baton of Sir Malcolm Sargent. His first performance was in July 1937 when he and the rest of the cast were clad in American Indian costumes and I have an imposing photo of Webster in his full regalia. He later sang in the fiftieth anniversary performance of the work. Malcolm Sargent chose him as soloist in the work to celebrate his sixtieth birthday. Webster’s recording of “Onaway, awake, beloved” (1947) is one of his finest recordings.
26 October 2011
Knysna-Plett Herald | Criminals target safe haven.
It is very sad to think that criminals have repeatedly targeted the soft target of a safe haven for abused women and children in Knysna.
We are experiencing a heatwave in Johannesburg, with temperatures up to 33 and 34 degrees for the first time on record. Tonight the animals are quivering with fear because of the fireworks exploding around us to celebrate Diwali, and tomorrow and Friday we have the ANCYL march to the Chamber of Mines to call for nationalisation of mines in South Africa, and to push for their “expropriation of land without compensation” policy.
I wish it would rain very heavily to douse the fireworks and quell the ANCYL’s enthusiasm for the march. It seems strange to arrange such a march at a time when many members are in the middle of Matric and University examinations.
4 October 2011
Today the Dalai Lama cancelled his planned trip to South Africa to attend the eightieth birthday party of Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Tutu because he had not yet received a visa to enter the country. The Archbishop himself was furious and accused the present ANC government of being worse than the Nationalist government of the apartheid era in South Africa. This news generated a great deal of polarised comment on news sites and on Facebook. I made the following comments:
Perhaps people have forgotten or were not taught at school that at one time the Archbishop was the lone voice speaking out against apartheid to the world while the ANC was involved in its arms struggle. The refusal to give a visa to the Dalai Lama is one of the present government’s lowest points. Dance to the tune of the Chinese government who have no idea about “human rights”. Disgraceful!!
Another commentator asked why people should make a fuss about the views of “an old angry man”, referring to the Archbishop. I said:
Without that old angry man you might not be enjoying your freedom right now. Maybe China will take complete control in SA and then we’ll see what it is to be oppressed like those they shot dead for their protests in Telemann Square.
3 October 2011
Family of three shot dead on their Walkerville small-holding. News 24 reported this chilling incident earlier today. It was suspected that the mother had been raped, and both father and his thirteen-year old son were shot dead – execution style. There were many furious comments in response to the article. I made the following comment:
Another sad and shocking story of a family being annihilated in the most horrific way. How can any normal human being live with the knowledge that they have killed a child in cold blood, as well as violating his mother and killing her and his father? Will they ever find these killers? I doubt it. The death penalty is too good for them. This kind of thing doesn’t happen in other parts of the world. If it did, there would be a massive outcry about it. Here it’s just another story which might – or might not – appear as a small item in the middle of the newspaper.
23 September 2011
Radio 702 was commemorating Heritage Day at Freedom Park near Pretoria this morning. No soldier who died in the South African Defence Force fighting in Angola has his name on the Freedom Wall. Apparently they were all fighting to support Apartheid. The Voortrekker Monument, situated not far away, commemorates Afrikaners who died in that war. John Robbie was asking for some kind of reconciliation so that the names of all South Africans who died in past wars could be included on the Freedom Wall.
I made the following comment on this matter:
Apart from anything else, most of these young men were CONSCRIPTED into the Defence Force whether they believed in the cause they were fighting for or not. They were not all Afrikaans – they were all white South African matriculants regardless of their language. I will never forget seeing a bunch of these raw recruits, straight out of school, at the old Show Grounds when I was writing a UNISA exam. These 17 and 18 year old boys were being shouted at by a very fierce Afrikaans corporal. This morning they were talking about Afrikaners who were commemorated at the Voortrekker monument. What about all the others who died in that war and who never believed in Apartheid? Those who became conscientious objectors were put in jail for indefinite periods and were subjected to very rough treatment. I do not wish to visit the Voortrekker Monument or the Freedom Wall. Both are equally divisive.
22 September 2011
Today I heard the sad news that my old friend, Ron Ince (aged 86) had died in Auckland, New Zealand. Although I never met him, he was very kind to me and sent me some wonderful tapes of rare recordings by Anne Ziegler and Webster Booth, as well as many other recordings of singers he knew I’d be interested in. Apparently he had a large collection of records and tapes which he had collected over the years. He and his late wife Julia had attended one of Anne and Webster’s concerts in Auckland in 1948 when they had been on a tour to New Zealand and Australia. He also sent me some tapes of Julia’s singing and told me something about her and her father, who had been a professional violinist.
Ron had been a broadcaster in New Zealand in years gone by, and always did tapes to me in the form of a broadcast. I loved hearing his gentle voice when he introduced the records – hisdelightful personality shone through. I sent him various tapes in return and we corresponded regularly until the last year or two when our correspondence was reduced to notes and cards at Christmas. I last heard from him at Christmas time when he told me about the heart attacks he had suffered earlier last year. He had introduced me to his friend Alasdair Fenton in Scotland and I wrote to him and exchanged tapes with him until his sudden death a few years ago – he was quite a few years younger than Ron and was an expert on Jack Hylton. I will never forget either of them as they both enriched my life. Ron is sadly missed and I will always remember him fondly.
19 September 2011
Apparently SA President, Jacob Zuma took two of his wives on a visit to the States! I made the following comment in The Times Live:
What a shame! After the 1994 elections South Africa and the ruling party had a chance to redress the ills of the past. In 2011 there are more people unemployed than ever. We have a weak President, which leaves the way open for the likes of an extremist like Malema to take charge of the country. We are faced with a draconian “Freedom of Information” bill. Now Zuma takes two of his wives to the US. Next time, he’ll probably take the lot and make the taxpayer cough up for them. The fragmented opposition parties need to unite and present a viable alternative to the ANC, and those who vote for the ANC should realise that the fat-cat, arrogant politicians do not put South Africa first, only their own interests. Heaven help us all!!
13 September 2011
I wonder what your opinion on this change to the copyright law on records is. I understand that the law will not be retrospective, which is a good thing for smaller companies who have issued CD compilations when the original recordings went out of copyright. Many of Anne Ziegler and Webster Booth’s recordings were issued on CD in this way in the 1990s.
I posted the following comment on Facebook regarding this change:
“I don’t “like” this change in the copyright law. It will give people like Cliff Richard and the surviving Beatles, who are already “in the money” even more money to add to their coffers. Those artistes who are now dead and gone and were struggling financially saw their recordings go out of copyright after 50 years and feature in CD compilations without benefiting from the sales of these CDs in any way at all.”
There’s not much anyone can do about this change in the law now, but it would be interesting to know your views on the matter.
7 September
There was an article in the New York Times this morning regarding when US troops would be withdrawn from Iraq.
I posted the following comment:
When the US and European powers enter foreign conflicts hoping to bring about Western-style democracy to places where democracy has never existed before, they must either leave these countries in a state of flux, or maintain a military presence, with soldiers being needlessly killed by dissidents on a regular basis. This is a sad situation with no winners, regardless of whether troops remain or withdraw.
5 September 2011
It was reported that Thabo Mbeki wept when he resigned from parliament after being recalled by the ANC.
My comment:
Thabo Mbeki might have made mistakes but he was dignified and articulate. I was sad when he was recalled and South Africa’s poor have not benefited by the present leadership. Corruption is the order of the day and Zuma is an “all things to all people” leader. This vacuum in good leadership has allowed Julius Malema to come to the fore.
29 August 2011
http://www.timeslive.co.za/scitech/2011/08/29/rhino-hunting-ban-considered
Rhino hunting ban considered – Times LIVE.
In the light of the shocking slaughter and poaching of South African rhinos for their horns, I think a hunting ban and dehorning of all rhinos should be implemented as soon as possible. “Trophy hunters” are legally allowed to come to South Africa and shoot our wild life. In this day and age, such people are a disgrace to humanity.
26 August 2011
Rightwinger Clive Derby-Lewis, convicted of the murder of SA Communist Party general secretary Chris Hani, has been denied parole.
via Derby-Lewis parole denied.
My Comment
I hold no brief for Derby-Lewis, but the man is old and sick and has spent many years in jail. The Hani family will never agree to him getting parole, unlike the parents of the American girl who forgave the killers of their innocent daughter and even befriended them. Thousands of innocent people have been killed in South Africa since the murder of Chris Hani, whether for political or criminal motives. I think it is time to release this man and move on.
24 August 2011
South African National anthem – the talking point on the media today
http://youtu.be/ArRzytMd-yA
The singer who sang the SA national anthem at the ceremony to announce the rugby squad going to the forthcoming Rugby World Cup in New Zealand forgot the words, although he managed to carry on after the initial error. South Africans criticised and berated this poor gentleman on Radio 702 and other radio stations this morning. He even came on to the John Robbie show to apologise for his memory lapse. Apparently he knew the words perfectly at the rehearsal, but froze during the performance. In a discussion about this on Facebook, someone suggested that it would be better to have four singers, each singing the part in the national anthem which is written in their native tongue.
I made the following comments:
I had the same idea as Humphrey when I was listening to the heated discussion on Talk Radio 702 this morning with everyone deriding this poor chap because he had forgotten the words. If four people sang the part of the anthem written in their own language nobody could be offended by bad pronunciation. It might even create a feeling of South Africans being united instead of divided.
I am a retired singer and singing teacher and learnt to sing in German, Italian, French, Afrikaans and Zulu (where vowel sounds are similar to pure Italian vowel sounds). I have a working knowledge of some of these languages and always understood what I was singing even if I could not conduct an intricate conversation in them, but Humphrey is correct in saying that one spends a long time learning and memorising roles and songs, and it takes a lot longer to memorise words in foreign languages than in one’s home language. He had three weeks in which to prepare the anthem and performed it perfectly at the rehearsal. Apart from Ard’s memory lapse, he has a very pleasing voice. People seem to think that professional singers should never make mistakes and should churn out everything flawlessly like robots. He was overcome by the occasion, which was different from engagements he was used to.
I have since heard his updated recording of the national anthem. Strangely enough, his pronunciation and singing of the Zulu and Sotho words of the anthem sound very much better than the Afrikaans and English sections. This is because he uses Americanised vowels to sing in Afrikaans and English, so neither of these parts of the anthem sound right. He also ends the anthem on an uncertain note. I think that it would be better to employ a straight singer accompanied by an orchestra to sing the anthem. Somehow a crooner with guitar accompaniment is not appropriate. After this debacle, I sincerely hope that the version sung before the games at the Rugby World Cup in New Zealand will be appropriately performed or even pre-recorded. South Africa has many good straight singers who could do justice to the dignity of the anthem. How about tenor, Sipho Fubise who studied at the Royal Northern College of Music in Manchester, won many prestigious awards and scholarships during his time there and took the lead in several operatic productions?
23 August 2011
I read on the British Monarchy page of Facebook that the Duchess of Cornwall has adopted a Jack Russell puppy named Beth from the Battersea Dogs’ Home. She already owns two Jack Russells named Tosca and Rosie.
I made the following comment on Facebook:
Good for the Duchess of Cornwall for adopting this sweet puppy and giving her a loving home. Obviously she could have afforded to buy the fanciest breed of dog in the world from a breeder. I take my hat off to the Duchess for following the adoption route. I am sure Beth will have a long and happy life with Tosca and Rosie!
22 August 2011
On the 1 January 2011, I posted this comment on Facebook concerning the terrible noise of fireworks which had frightened our dog:
I wish there could be a COMPLETE BAN on fireworks in South Africa. Those loud bangs are no less than cruelty to animals and birds, and now they’re letting them off again tonight. Someone sms-ed 702 this morning, saying, “Pet owners should just get over it.” Tell that to those who have lost dogs because they fled in panic at the shocking racket last night!
Stefan Collini reviews ‘English Journey’ by J.B. Priestley · LRB 19 November 2009.
20 August 2011
The ANC is planning to discipline leader of its Youth League, Julius Malema
ANC charges Malema with misconduct: News24: South Africa: News.
My comment on this issue on Facebook reads as follows:
The ANC should have disciplined Malema sooner. He has managed to push his own agenda because there is no decisive leadership in the ANC. I see two possibilities – either he will be given a slap on the wrist because he says things in public which the party leaders are saying in private, or else they will discipline him severely and he’ll form his own party which will have a lot of support from disaffected youth.
16 August 2011
Gautrain Johannesburg service resumes – Times LIVE.
My comment:
I feel very sorry for Errol Braithwaite as the Gautrain is a world class project which is being undermined by wild cat strikers and cable thieves. Perhaps the SA Government should take a note of what steps the British Government intends taking against those convicted after the English riots of last week.
14 August 2011
ANC Youth League president Julius Malema has been paid R1.2m, through a Johannesburg architect building his home, by businessman Steve Bosch, a report says.
via Tender boss paid Malema R1.2m – report.
My comment:
Another very depressing report of dubious practices, so complicated I can hardly get to grips with them. JM is in the pound seats while the poor he claims to represent, and the many who support him, regardless, will see South Africa sink even further into the quicksand because of fat cat corruption. I agree with debrakayestylist: “Moeletsi Mbeki FOR President”.
12 August 2011
Desmond Tutu says white people must accept that they benefitted from apartheid, and has also called on Cabinet ministers to get rid of their expensive cars in the spirit of ubuntu.
via Desmond Tutu criticises SA whites.
My comment:
All the Archbishop’s comments might be true, but they are not going any way to unite South Africans, judging by the reaction of commentators on this page. Everyone – except those political fat cats – is far more divided and pessimistic about the future of South Africa today than when South Africans voted together in 1994 and looked forward to a new beginning as part of the “rainbow” nation.
This is a sample of the paper I compile each day from my tweets on Twitter.
