Month: March 2020

The Night Of Charlotte Thomas, My Piece For ThreadMash Six, 31 March 2020

Is it really only a few weeks ago that we were still gathering in a crowded room above a pub to eat, drink, socialise and deliver our ThreadMash Five pieces to an eager audience of ourselves and others?

Threadmash 5, Rohan Candappa’s Thing Has A Birthday Bash, Gladstone Arms, 5 February 2020

Yup.

But in these unprecedented times (oh boy am I becoming sick of hearing that phrase, “unprecedented times”) the only way we can ThreadMash is remotely.

So that’s what we did.

The brief for TheadMash 6 was set at ThreadMash 5. Rohan waved a leather-bound notebook emblazoned with the name “Charlotte Thomas” at us. Rohan had bought that notebook cheap in Paperchase on the Strand. Someone had ordered it before Christmas but had not turned up to collect it. “Who was Charlotte Thomas?”, Rohan wondered. The brief was simply to write a short story that addressed that question.

Eight of us have written Charlotte Thomas pieces. Four of us addressed the mystery of Charlotte’s leather-bound notebook in our stories.

Here is my story, steeped in the experience Janie and I had volunteering for Crisis At Christmas. The character, Sharla, is based on several of the vibrant characters we met at Crisis. As far as we know, none of them were actually named Charlotte Thomas in real life, but then again, you never know!

THE NIGHT OF CHARLOTTE THOMAS

The karaoke was in full swing. Not the best karaoke we’d ever heard, frankly. But also not the worst.  This was not your semi-professional karaoke of regular singers hoping to be spotted. This was impromptu karaoke. Informal, party, Christmas night, karaoke.

We heard one of the guests belt out Delilah, rather well, in a strong Middle-Eastern accent. Then we heard another guest belt out My Way…badly. Daisy and I couldn’t see the karaoke. We were in earshot, well within earshot, but we were on duty and had to remain at our post.

Then we heard Sharla sing. We didn’t know that she was called Sharla at that juncture, of course, nor did we yet know what she looked like, but we did know that the quality of the singing had gone up several notches, above and beyond the Delilah guy.

“…I should have changed that stupid lock, I should have made you leave your key, If I’d known…”

Daisy gave me one of her “I’m impressed” looks. I responded with my “too right” nod.  I wished that I could go and have a look over the balcony to see this singer, but that would have meant breaking the rules and leaving my post. I wasn’t about to do that.

About five minutes after I Will Survive had finished, a pint-sized, super-confident-seeming female guest came up to our station and engaged me and Daisy in conversation.  Sharla was only one or two words into her husky, deep-voiced opening gambit with us and we both knew we were being visited by that singer.

In truth, Sharla had taken a shine to Daisy, not really to me, although she seemed interested in both of us once she learnt that we were not just a duty pair, but an actual couple in real life. At this stage, Sharla pretty much asked all the questions and Daisy provided most of the answers.

Soon after Sharla moved on, Daisy and I were reallocated to a different station; ground floor. It was getting late by then, perhaps midnight, but quite a few guests were still milling about.

We chatted with several interesting people down there, before hearing the unmistakable sound of Sharla singing. The karaoke had long since finished. These were snatches of songs, mixed in with chatter. 

“Pull up to my bumper baby, In your…every time we say goodbye, I wonder why a little…”

Daisy complimented Sharla’s singing again and asked her if she’d ever considered singing for a living. Sharla told Daisy that she wasn’t the first person to have asked her that question.

Later, Daisy and I were advised to wrap up warm for front door duty.  Now about 2.00 or 3.00 a.m., Boxing Day morning, gosh it was cold out there. A few guests still hanging out, some having a smoke, others just having a chat. Sharla appeared around the corner, a large mango in each hand. She told anyone who’d listen that a local 24 hour shop had given them to her. She vehemently denied the suggestion that she might have “liberated” them without the shopkeeper’s consent.

Sharla seemed in her element outside; indeed she told us that she was so used to rough sleeping, that she felt more in her element outside than inside at that hour. 

Sharla must have spotted that I was feeling cold – at least Daisy had been given a padded hi-vis jacket to wear, I just had one of the flimsy ones…

…Sharla darted inside and badgered one of the indoor volunteers, who was wearing a fleecy hi-vis, to swap with me.

“Thank you, that was very thoughtful of you, Sharla”, I said, wondering why I hadn’t thought to take that action myself.

“I’m very grateful to you volunteers”, said Sharla, “unlike some of the fucking dickheads around here. I’ve seen some of ‘em being so fucking rude, it’s a fucking disgrace. I was in a bad mood last night, but I’m never that fucking rude to volunteers. I’m ‘avin’ the best night ever tonight”.

Outside, Sharla opened up to Daisy more than before. Sharla talked about her disorganised upbringing and the similarly chaotic upbringing to which she had subjected her own children. She talked about the drugs and the prostitution and the rough sleeping. She talked about her family in Jamaica and her desire to visit them. Not all of Sharla’s stories quite stacked up, nor were they all entirely consistent with each other. But all her stories were eye-opening.

“You have led a fascinating life”, said Daisy, “you should write your stories down and get them published.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that”, said Sharla.  “In fact, just last week, down by the Strand, I was talking to a nice gentleman and he said just that. He said he’d buy me a leather-bound writing book with my name on the front as a Christmas present. He even wrote down my full name and made me spell it out for him. Charlotte Thomas”.

“Ah, Sharla stands for Charlotte”, said Daisy, “our niece is called Charlotte.”

“Nice,” said Sharla, “anyway, that nice gentleman never showed up with my present.”

“Maybe he’ll show up with your present after Christmas,” said Daisy.

“Nah,” said Sharla. I knew he wouldn’t and I know he won’t. People make promises like that all the time, but they don’t really mean ‘em.”

We didn’t see Sharla again for the next few hours. We were on various dormitory floor duties and Charlotte Thomas was clearly not one for using the Crisis beds.

The last time we saw Sharla was at about 7:00 in the morning on our last duty; near the entrance, making sure that incoming daytime volunteers and wandering guests all went in the right directions. We replaced another pair who very quietly pointed to a sleeping Sharla, sitting in a chair, her upper body sprawled out across the table, fast asleep. “She pretty much fell asleep mid-sentence while talking to us”, a grinning volunteer told us, in a whisper.

And there slept Sharla…Charlotte Thomas, for the rest of our shift. The arms of Morpheus had finally got her, just when most of the other guests were getting up and starting to mill around again. What was Charlotte Thomas dreaming about, I wondered? Such a life she leads, so many stories she has. She really could do with that writing book. Maybe that nice gentleman really will turn up on the Strand with her gift after Christmas.

Noddyland Gym And Indoor Sports Centre, 29 March 2020

My recent posting about the socially-distant World Miniature Table Tennis between me and Daisy…

World Miniature Table Tennis Championship: Ged v Daisy, Noddyland, 23 March 2020

…elicited several amusing items of feedback. One wag suggested that we might stream live events, while another wondered whether we had established our own private gym. Well, on that latter point, I did say in the 23 March piece…

…we’ll need to exercise and play at home for a while. I have ordered some low cost, high value gizmondry for the purpose, which should be wending its way to us as I write…

…and I’m here to tell the world that most of that gizmondry has now arrived. It aims to enhance the stretching, posture, strength and balance work that I normally do at BodyWorksWest , while Daisy of late has been doing this stuff in the comfort of her own home, since she parked her pole ambitions.

So let me talk you through the colourful array of gadgetry, for which I have laid out literally dozens of quid, adding to those items we already had:

Top left: Flossie (long-since resident) demonstrates the stretches we undertake on mats such as the purple rolled-up one (mine) using items such as the green blocks for supporting the lower back and the green eggy thing and wheel for pilates-type groin stretches etc. All of those items, together with the baby weights (pink and black) and the knobbly green pressure point ball thing were already here. Flossie models herself on Lexi from BodyWorksWest, hence the extreme looking stretches which Flossie can quite literally hold all day, if we leave her undisturbed.

So, the italics describe the items we already had here; now to talk you through the newly acquired and repurposed items:

  • four kilogram weights atop a rather fruity-looking bottle of Rioja. No, the Rioja is not part of the exercise regime. I have been using 4kg weights to strengthen my arms for (mostly real) tennis. I felt that, without that level of weight to play with, my strengthening might go backwards. The weights will always come in handy, even after the pandemic has passed;
  • atop the purple mat (with it’s additional weight on the floor by the pink doo-dah) is a Senshi forearm wrist curler. This looks like the easiest exercise on earth… until you try it. I have long-since told Lexi, Shaf and anyone else from the BodyWorks team within earshot that I feel like a right weed when doing this exercise – and indeed some of the 4kg weight movements – but they tell me that no-one cares and that no-one is looking. Well, I think I get funny looks from space cadet types at the gym when they see me struggling to do more than three or four cycles of the wrist curler thing. No more! I am wrist curling in the privacy of my own social distancing. Daisy now knows from experience that this is harder than it looks, so she doesn’t give me funny looks…at least, no funnier than usual;
  • in front of Flossie, a pair of adjustable grip strengtheners. This is a cleverer idea for us than I thought it would be, because Daisy can set them for a weight that suits her – while I can switch to a heavier setting as I strengthen up for the additional grip strength requirements of real tennis;
  • the pièce de résistance, though, is the wooden item, by Flossies side, propped against the sofa. At BodyWorksWest, my favourite piece of equipment is the “magic stick”, which some ill-informed members and staff imagine simply to be a broom handle. It is absolutely great for some of the standing up stretches. The device shown in the picture is slightly shorter (but long enough) and was originally designed to latch on to the loft entrance hook, to help open the hatch and start to pull down the steps. Absolutely does the job for our stretches; Daisy is enjoying using it as much as I am.

So yes, the living room can now be repurposed as our indoor gym by the simple expedient of moving the furniture around a bit. This we are doing each day.

But it is not all about such gym-like exercise. We are both mad keen on bat and ball sports – the miniature table tennis was only going to get us so far.

So, we have treated ourselves to a compact-but-decent-sized home table tennis table, which, for the time being, while Janie’s surgery is by necessity decommissioned, takes pride of place in that room, which is also (as is usually the case at the weekends) doubling as my music room:

This table will work well in the garage and/or the garden once life gets back to normal. For the time being, suffice it to say that Daisy has come to terms with this size of table far more rapidly than I have.

So will we stream the matches live? Unlikely. For that, we’d need to dress differently and take far more care in our use of language while playing. In any case, I need to get better at the game before the matches would be worth seeing (or gambling upon).

But I might experiment with some video filming and making highlights packages, not immediately but if the partial lockdown goes on for long enough.

Stay well, stay safe, stay fit, everyone.

Virtually Going Back To Our Roots, A Streatham BBYO Youth Club Reunion On Zoom, 29 March 2020

The roll (l to r): Ivor (present) Sandra (present) Mark (awol) Andrea (present)

It was Natalie’s idea and rather a good one. Or maybe it was Andrea’s idea. Anyway, point is, our plans for a spring gathering of the old youth club clan are in tatters this year, thanks to the Covid-19 pandemic.

Mission Implausible, The Annual Streatham BBYO Alumni Gathering, Bill’s, 30 May 2019

Only one thing for it: gather virtually, e.g. on Zoom (other video conferencing tools are available).

Natalie set it up and a good few of us joined in. Andrea, David, Ivor, Linda, Liza, Martin, Me, Natalie, Sandra, Wendy…

…I think that’s everyone from the old clan who came along on Sunday – apologies if I have missed anyone out. One or two wives/partners/children popped in for a while (Janie for example) or added colour to the proceedings through noises off or other such distractions.

Janie had never witnessed a video conference before and suggested that video-conferencing seemed a chaotic medium to her. I had to point out that video conferences can be highly disciplined and decorous. Had she ever experienced one of our youth club meetings, she’d realise that the chaotic nature of the gathering has little or nothing to do with the medium.

Simon wasn’t there to stick the boot in, but Martin was there to provide security

The conversation covered many topics, not just “what were you up to before the pandemic?” and “how are you coping with the pandemic?”

The Chatham House rule should apply to such gatherings, I feel, so I won’t attribute specific tales to specific people. But we are a communitarian lot, still, so we heard word from near the front line of health care, social services provision and education. Unprecedented times (as everyone seems to be saying right now) presenting immediate and urgent challenges to everyone, especially those working in civil society.

The most fascinating yarn, though, was a true story about rabbits. Apparently, if you put a male rabbit and a female rabbit into a household with children, you generate a myriad of soap-opera-like scenarios within just a few weeks, even if the children are given strict instructions to enforce social distancing between the rabbits. Children, it seems, struggle to obey such simple instructions with predictably hilarious and tragic results in equal measure.Throw Covid-19 lockdown into the scenario and you have a strange brew for story-telling – Beatrix Potter’s Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies meets Cormac McCarthy’s The Road.

I do hope Zoom’s VC security is better than some suggest…I’d hate to think that the bunny community found out what’s been going on…

Word on the street is that our gathering went so well that we shall be gathering again very soon – i.e. same time, same day, the next week.

This really IS becoming a virtual youth club, even down to the weekly meetings. Soon we’ll need to reform a committee, start scheduling programmes and sending delegates to virtual regional, national and international shindigs…

And You Are? by Rohan Candappa, Lockdown Theatre Company, 24 March 2020

I have known Rohan Candappa since Noah was a nipper…

…OK, not quite that long, but we did meet on the first day of our first year of secondary school. We were in the same class…

…but subsequently, Rohan has proved himself to be in a class of his own, with tremendous ideas such as The Lockdown Theatre Company.

Rohan will be livid that I am focussing my preamble on him, rather than the highly-talented actress, Katrina Kleve, who performs the first Lockdown Theatre Company piece.

But the reality is, Rohan has come up with this highly creative and generous idea to help acting folk who are currently pretty much all out of work and finding these difficult times especially challenging.

As I understand it, Lockdown Theatre will publish a short piece each week, normally on a Wednesday, for the next 10 weeks at least.

Here is the very first Lockdown Theatre piece:

As Rohan says on the YouTube blurb (you find that if you click the link to watch, rather than watch the embedded video), this is an abridged version of a longer live performance piece.

I was honoured to attend the preview of that longer piece in November 2018 …

One Starts in a Barber’s. One Starts in a Bar by Rohan Candappa, Preview, Gladstone Arms, 21 November 2018

…and once again found myself honoured with an opportunity to preview “And You Are?” on the Tuesday evening, a few hours before it went live to the world.

Janie joined me at the preview, which we streamed onto the living room telly. Perhaps not quite as dramatic as the Prime Minister’s lockdown address to the nation the night before…

…but frankly I prefer seeing Kat Kleve act and I prefer Rohan Candappa’s well-crafted and thought-provoking words.

So there you have it. Rohan was, at one time, an ad man, so I am sure he will want to extract the essence of what I have just said as a promotional quote:

Better than watching Boris Johnson telling you what to do and what not to do – Ian Harris, Ogblog.

Seriously, Janie and I both very much enjoyed the piece and are looking forward to the next one. It is “appointment to view” stuff. You can make your own appointment to view by subscribing to the YouTube channel here.

World Miniature Table Tennis Championship: Ged v Daisy, Noddyland, 23 March 2020

Our World Is Getting Smaller With Covid-19

In the grander scheme of things, our sporting woes are small beer. But last week, on Tuesday, I played real tennis at Lord’s for the last time in a while. Earlier today we played lawners in an almost-empty Boston Manor Park, again probably on hold for some time, now that non-essential road travel is off the agenda.

The excesses of February seem a long time ago now:

Four Courts In 25 Hours; Boston Manor Centre Court, Lord’s Real Tennis Court, Royal Court Theatre & Boston Manor Court One, 8 & 9 February 2020

Desperate times call for desperate measures. When socially distancing and only going out when necessary, we’ll need to exercise and play at home for a while. I have ordered some low cost, high value gizmondry for the purpose, which should be wending its way to us as I write…

…but in the meantime we dug out the little Butterfly miniature table tennis table:

Other brands and other outlets are no doubt available, but click the pic for an outlet

We bought ours for a mere score, perhaps a score or more years ago. We’ve only used it occasionally and always enjoyed ourselves when we have done so. It is very small and very frustrating to play…in a good way.

Daisy normally wins at table tennis and I think had always previously won at the miniature variety. The speed of reflexes and balance aspects of the game play to her strengths.

Yet, strangely, since I started playing real tennis, my table tennis results against Daisy have been getting better. Would that also apply to the miniature variety?

Only one way to find out. We agreed to play a proper match, i.e. a best of 5 games, in which each game is won by the first player to win 11 points, and be at least 2 points ahead of their opponent.

Let the games begin

The first game was an absolute humdinger, which Ged eventually won 21-19, after being 10-8 up and having far more game points than Daisy.

The second game Daisy won 11-9, keeping her nose in front pretty much all the way through that game.

Ged won the third game 11-7, in fairly dominant fashion after the first few points.

Then Ged took the lead in the fourth; at 8-5 up Ged thought he had Daisy staring down the barrel, but as so often at table tennis, the winning line seemed to evade Ged as Daisy slowly but surely turned the game around to win it 12-10.

So it was 2-2 going in to the final game. When Daisy went 4-3 up in the fifth, Ged even exclaimed…

…why do I always find a way to lose this stupid game?

…which, with the benefit of hindsight, is probably not the right way to project one’s confidence in winning at your opponent.

Still, despite that schoolboy error, Ged then managed a little run of points and then just about managed to keep his cool and his nose in front to win the final game and therefore the match 11-9.

What fun. Not quite the real thing, but better than nothing.

Virtually The New Normal: Lockdown Theatre Launch, Sri Lanka v England Day One Simulation On King Cricket, NewsRevue Web-Streamed, 19 March 2020

Until this week, Ogblog has been entirely free of Covid-19. Of course, the pandemic, which began in Wuhan in late 2019, has been well underway across the world for weeks now.

Increasing social distancing restrictions, some recommended, some enforced, have been rolled out in the UK in the past few days. I needed to do one or two things at the office yesterday; I doubt if I shall visit the City again for a while.

So, 19 March, I woke up to the new normal. Virtually normal.

The Lockdown Theatre Company

Want to know more? Click the redundancy bunny

My old mate Rohan Candappa has come up with a cracking idea to help his friends in the performing arts. The above picture link takes you to the Facebook site for the Lockdown Theatre – this link takes you to Rohan’s initiating statement.

Basically Rohan is going to produce a short performance piece each week, for several weeks, for which he is paying performers a modest but much-needed fee. initially at least this will be free to view.

Rohan does good stuff, so I commend this to Ogblog readers for artistic reasons but I also commend the communitarian and “new normal” thinking behind the idea.

So, I spent some time promoting the idea through my personal channels and writing to Rohan.

Where it will lead I don’t know. Rohan doesn’t know. None of us know where the Covid-19 pandemic will lead society either. We have to get used to “don’t know where this is going”. Don’t know but let’s give this a try is part of the new normal.

Good luck and good speed, Rohan. If I can help with this initiative, I shall.

Then I spent several hours doing actual work from home, much as I have done, remotely, most of the time in the past 25+ years. Just more video conferences and Skypes than previously. New normal.

King Cricket’s Sim Series: Sri Lanka v England Day One

King Cricket is using a rather more recent version of the International Cricket captain simulation game – click the above pic. to see the Day One report

At lunchtime, I took a break from work and checked in eagerly to King Cricket.

King Cricket’s response to the new normal, which in part means that there is no actual live cricket when there should have been, has been to try something a bit silly. He has picked an “all time greats” Sri Lanka side to play an “all time greats” England side in a simulation of the cancelled test matches in Sri Lanka.

He is going to run his simulation of each day of the two cancelled tests on the requisite day and write some humorous end of day reports for each day. The King Cricket community chime in with comments.

I showed Janie the Day Three report (a few hours before writing this Ogblog piece). I had to explain cricket simulation games to her…

…did Janie not know that I had the 1999 version? She and I were long since together back then, although I suppose the game never travelled from my place to hers during my brief infatuation with it…

…and I also had to explain King Cricket’s match reporting idea and the fact that many readers seemed to be enjoying the idea.

You have all gone completely mad, she said.

Then I did some more work (including those extra Skypes and video conferences) until I was done with work.

Then I had some dinner before hunkering down to a virtual show.

NewsRevue Last Performance Before Covid-19 Closure, Web-Streamed

Just in case anyone doesn’t know about my past involvement with and long-standing love for the 40-year-old comedy show NewsRevue…

NewsRevue 40th Anniversary Party, Show & Smoker, Canal Cafe Theatre, 18 August 2019

…I suggest you click one or both of the above links.

Anyway, social distancing means no live shows and stuff for the foreseeable future, as well as no live sport, so the NewsRevue team decided to perform the last show before closure behind closed doors and upload the video for people to watch, from scheduled show time onwards.

I watched the show around about showtime – actually about 22:00 – sat in bed after eating a supersized plate of yummy pasta left over from earlier in the week – thank you Janie.

If you want to see the show, it is embedded below.

Highlights for me were the toilet roll song, “I Love Toilet Roll” at 8:15 and also a wonderful Nicola Sturgeon song at 11:45; a very impressive singing impersonation I thought.

Perhaps not the strongest run ever, but it is quintessentially NewsRevue.

Note to self – do not make a habit of sitting in bed watching a streamed video on the TV while you are digesting your food – the food does not digest well in that posture – especially if you nod off in said posture before straightening yourself out. No need to explain in detail to the readers what can go wrong in these circumstances.

Yes, the end of such a novel day, the virtual new normal, is a time for reflection…and in my case, refluxion.

Not Quite Jerusalem by Paul Kember, Finborough Theatre, 13 March 2020

Read all about it on the Finborough site by clicking this image.

Janie and I really enjoyed this evening at the Finborough. We do like that place; it consistently puts on good stuff in a small space. Not Quite Jerusalem is no exception; indeed one of the best things we’ve seen at the Finborough and one of the best things we’ve seen this year.

I was looking out for this Finborough slot late in 2019, when I met the director, Peter Kavanagh at Gaslight.

Gaslight by Patrick Hamilton, Playground Theatre, 24 October 2019

Peter told me that he was scheduled to do a Finborough 40th anniversary production in March 2020 but he didn’t yet know what the play would be.

When I discovered that he had chosen Not Quite Jerusalem I was intrigued to see it. I vaguely remembered that this play came out around the time that I ended up trying to sort out some kibbutz sh*t back in my BBYO days; 1980.

Sorting Out A Problem Kibbutz, BBYO Hillel House, 21 to 24 July 1980

Anyway, Janie seemed keen on the Not Quite Jerusalem scenario so I booked for us both to see it. She’s now very glad she’s seen it, as am I.

It is a funny play but the themes of youthful hopelessness and closed-mindedness in England seem as relevant today as they probably did 40 years ago.

Here is a link to some reviews of the original 1980 production.

There’s an interesting interview by Judi Herman of Jewish Renaissance with Peter Kavanagh about the play and in particular this production of the play – click here.

This production is well cast, with each of the characters playing their role well. Joe McArdle, as the chavvy Yorkshire lad, shows his versatility as an actor; he was the “big reveal detective” in Gaslight – a very different role. Russell Bentley and Alisa Joy both did well as the sabra Israelis; prickly and softening believably and with credible accents too. Ryan Whittle, Miranda Braun and Ronnie York were all suitably irritating as the bright drifter, the damaged female and the uber-chavvy lad from Harlow, respectively.

I had been looking forward to discussing the Harlow chav with John White – he of Harlow- the next day, but our meet up with John and Mandy was cancelled for Covid-19 reasons.

But I digress.

Not Quite Jerusalem is not a great play, but there are lots of interesting elements in it and it hangs together very well as a story. Peter Kavanagh’s production is a thoroughly entertaining evening in the theatre.

The reviews have mostly been very good – deservedly – click here.

Highly recommended.

Chris Stanton: Absurdist & Realist, A Personal Tribute, 9 March 2020

With thanks to John Random for the 1992 pictures, such as the one above.

It was with great sadness, although not surprise, that I learnt, on 11 March, that Chris Stanton has died. He had been battling and eventually reconciling himself with terminal cancer for a couple of years. It was a fitting coincidence that I learnt of his demise, through the NewsRevue alum community (specifically, via Chris Rowe), as I came off the real tennis court at Lord’s.

I first met Chris at the Canal Cafe Theatre in the spring of 1992, when I started writing for NewsRevue and while Chris was performing in John Random’s Spring 1992 run of the show.

Chris Stanton was the very first professional performer to deliver my lyrics to a paying audience. A rather morbid number, entitled California Here I Go:

California Here I Go, NewsRevue Lyric, 23 April 1992

Not one of my best, but one of my first…and my goodness, a performer of Chris’s quality could make the most of whatever material he was given.

That cast: Sarah Swingler, Ian Angus Wilkie, Chris Stanton, Sonia Beck

Later that run, the cast, with Chris Stanton up front and exceptional, performed another of mine, You Can’t Hurry Trusts. A much better – indeed still relevant – lyric for a topical satirical review, though I say so myself:

You Can’t Hurry Trusts, NewsRevue Lyric, 7 May 1992

Chris Stanton’s professional career continued to thrive and take off as the 1990s went on…as did mine of course, but his was a performing career whereas my career was a more conventional one. I saw little of him for 20 or so years after our involvement with NewsRevue waned, by the end of the 1990s.

Chris was reluctant to join us at Ivan Shakespeare Memorial Dinners, although he did perhaps turn up once or twice in the early part of the 20th century.

Coincidentally, our paths crossed again some 20 years after Chris’s involvement with NewsRevue ceased, in 2016, when I took up real tennis at Lord’s and ran into Chris in the dedans gallery.

I, beginner.

Real tennis is a wonderful game, still played virtually unchanged since medieval times, ideal for those with a sense of comedy. As I said back in 2016:

real tennis is such a weird game, the rules could easily have emanated from a John Random sketch describing a fictitious game of John’s imagining.

Unless you are very gifted at the game (which I am not and Chris was only a little more gifted than me), you have to be prepared to look absurd at times, the game is so complex and confounding. Yet addictive.

I did write up my first on court encounter with Chris, en passant in 2016.

Real tennis players are sometimes referred to as “realists” but I think there is an “absurdist” element to it for us comedy types. I especially enjoyed saying, panto-style, “it’s behind you” to Chris, if he ended up (as oft we do) confounded by the eventual landing point of that hand-made, not-quite-round ball in that crazily-shaped court. Ironically, of course, Chris was doing a fair bit of panto in recent years, before he was taken ill.

We are a geeky lot too, so “the book” for real tennis scores is a global database that records the results of every match. Here is my head-2-head of recorded games with Chris; he will have given me handicap points in each of these matches; fewer as the years went on:

Final score: Stanton 3 matches to Harris 2 matches. I could have been a contender…

I didn’t know why I hadn’t seen Chris for a while – I thought he might just have been busy with work or off games with an injury – until I ran into him at Lord’s last summer on a test match day and he explained to me (with some surprise that I didn’t know) that he had lung cancer (one of the non-smoker varieties), was undergoing treatment but was probably just staving off the inevitable. By that time, Chris seemed reconciled, I’d even say at peace, with his fate. Certainly that was the way he presented me with the facts of the matter.

My last memory of spending time with him will be an abiding one and speaks volumes about the man. Towards the end of last summer, we had a 40th anniversary party for NewsRevue at the Canal Cafe Theatre. The event included the extant show and a “smoker” – the latter being a form of party we often had in the 1990s at which performers and writers would do party pieces for one another.

Chris rose to the challenge and asked to perform two of his favourite pieces at the piano: A Loan Again (by Ian Christiansen I think) and John Random’s wonderful 0898 song, the latter being a very witty, quickfire number – I hope John doesn’t mind me upping/linking his classic lyric.

Chris said to me, earlier in the evening, that he was worried that his lungs no longer had the capacity to carry him all the way through 0898 without a breather. I said that I was sure it wouldn’t matter if he did need a breather; we were a gathering of friends.

Of course, commensurate professional that he was, Chris somehow got through the song without missing a beat or pausing for breath once. It was a masterful performance, not least in the circumstances.

NewsRevue 40th Anniversary Party, Show & Smoker, Canal Cafe Theatre, 18 August 2019

I don’t suppose my report of his tenacity comes as news to anyone who worked with Chris throughout his long and successful acting career, nor to anyone who did battle with him on the real tennis court.

In the language of real tennis, Chris was a “better than half a yard” sort of bloke; news of his demise has made me (and no doubt many others) feel “worse than the door”.

Or in the language of the stage, Chris Stanton was a stellar performer whose passing has temporarily made me feel wooden as I write.

But such super memories. Thank you, Chris Stanton.

Postscript: The Coincidence Magnifies

Within a day or so of posting this tribute, I learnt that Chris Rowe, the Newsrevue alum who notified us about Chris Stanton’s demise, is also a member of the MCC and also a real tennis enthusiast. Indeed, it was through Chris Rowe that Chris Stanton got involved with real tennis at Lord’s.

Here is a poster from the Newsrevue 1991 Edinburgh show, in which both of the gentlemen appeared:

The Haystack by Al Blyth, Hampstead Theatre, 7 March 2020

For some unknown reason, we didn’t book this when it first came out. I think Janie was on a bit of a “let’s be more selective about what we see” spree at the time and at a glance I thought this play might be a bit geeky and not to her taste.

But I was wrong and I’m so glad we had the opportunity to put matters right before the end of The Haystack’s run.

Below is the short trailer vid:

If it looks like a bit of a thriller, that’s because it is a bit of a thriller. Also, the subject matter is, technically, very geeky indeed. Yet the topic; the use of technology for surveillance in our culture, is covered in a fascinating, human-interest story way. The geeky elements are covered well, but also in a way that ordinary folk can understand and relate to. Trust me, if Janie comes out of seeing a play saying that, it has done a very good job.

Here is a link to the Hampstead Theatre resources on this one.

Ironically, those resources, including the programme, enabled us to place the writer, Al Blyth, under surveillance. Janie and I deployed our sophisticated facial recognition systems (otherwise known as our eyes) to spot Al Blyth in the audience that night…sitting next to us. Fiendish we are.

Janie nearly blew our cover by engaging him in polite conversation, but thought better of it, not least because he seemed quite engrossed with his own guests.

Proof positive though, if such proof were needed, that I know how to choose good seats at The Hampstead.

Meanwhile, the play and this production of it were cracking good. Really, really good. This is the first piece we have seen Roxana Silbert direct for some time; if it indicates the quality she is going to bring to The Hampstead in her role as Artistic Director, her appointment is seriously good news for one of our favourite places.

The play is called The Haystack because looking for lone wolf security threat types is like looking for a needle in a haystack…or is it, if you have a plethora of machine learning and surveillance tools at your disposal? Further, if you deploy those tools and techniques, are you in danger of turning the society you are trying to preserve into the very type of society you are trying to avoid?

The acting was all very good, with special mentions to Oliver Johnstone & Rona Morison as the central pair plus Sarah Woodward as a believably creepy spook.

It has been very well received as a production – click here (or look within the Hampstead resource above) for reviews – it deserves a West End transfer and I hope it gets one.