School Life – Page 6 – Ian Louis Harris

An Evening At The George Canning, 8 April 1979

I enjoyed several evenings of beer and music with mates from Alleyn’s at the George Canning pub, Effra Road, Brixton.

I was reminded of it (April 2017) while writing up the party and rambling events of the following (Easter) weekend of April 1979 – click here – by spotting the following diary entry from the previous weekend, 8 April:

Went to George Canning in eve

No information in that diary entry on who my companions were that evening. I remember going to the George Canning with Jim Bateman more than once and also I’m pretty sure Mark Stevens. Perhaps also Paul Deacon and/or Graham Majin on at least one occasion; others joined us too, I think, on one visit or another. This aspect of my memory needs help.

But I do remember those evenings at the George Canning reasonably well.

In 1979, the pub looked more like the 1905 picture from this urban history site than the 2003 picture – click here – even though colour photography had just about emerged by 1979 (albeit not often in my camera).

As I recall it, the music on all my visits was British Rhythm & Blues – click here – much like the first albums by bands like the Rolling Stones, Manfred Mann, The Moody Blues, the Animals etc. Whether that R&B was the style of the place always or whether that was merely what you got on the nights we could afford, I don’t know.

But we could afford these evenings on a bit of saved pocket money. The beer was just a few pence more than normal, but if you eked out two pints over the evening you could still get a whole evening of beer and music for a quid.

The George Canning type of pub wasn’t a salubrious environment back then. I’m talking about 1979 Brixton, not the hipster “south-Shoreditch-like” inner London neighbourhood of today.

Indeed I don’t suppose my mum would have approved of us going there had she realised what a dive this pub was at that time; but Effra Road was also the location of the Brixton Shule (synagogue), so (in her mind) what could possibly go wrong just a hundred yards or so up the road from there?

From our point of view, it always felt safe and welcoming enough. The nights we went to the place, it was mostly populated by people who were there for a few beers and some music. Perhaps a few old regulars bemoaning the noise, but on the whole there was a sense of shared music-following purpose.

The place is now far more venue than drinking house; Hootananny Brixton – click here to see the site.

“Over 21s only” it says at the top of the web site…that might have proved to be a bit of a problem for us 16/17 year-olds.

Not bad reviews on Yelp for the current venue – click here.

Not so sure about it as a hostel if TripAdvisor reviews are to be believed – click here.

But looking back to 1979, other old friend’s memories of those outings to the George Canning would be most welcome.

Update: when I shared this piece on the Alleyn’s 1970s Facebook Group, both Mark Stevens and Neil Voce owned up to having been part of that scene.

Mark Stevens wrote:

I used to go and see a blues band there – the Southsiders…I think they were the band that pushed me towards blues more than anything else…

Neil Voce wrote:

Definitely used to go to see them at the George Canning as it was and the two brewers in Clapham

BBYO National Convention 29 December 1978 to 1 January 1979

As I write on 31 December 2018, I find it hard to believe that it is 40 years since I attended the BBYO National Convention 1978/1979, my second National Convention.

I took loads of black and white photographs at that 1978/1979 convention – four rolls of film by my reckoning. At some point, someone must have taken some photographs for me:

Incontrovertible evidence that I wore baggy flares in those days. This is the Streatham clan performing some sort of a skit. We all look like we could do with a good meal.

I’m not sure where this busker came from or which day this picture was taken, but the poor fellow (like many of us) looks as though he needed a good meal and some decent clothes. We must all hope that he went on to make something of his life:

On 31 December 1978, Jeffrey Spector, who is sadly no longer with us, was installed as the National president for 1979. Although I didn’t know it then, some months later I was co-opted onto Jeffrey’s National Executive to edit the magazine for the last few months of 1979. It was an honour and privilege for me to have worked with him (and others of course) in that capacity.

I’m not too sure what was happening at this juncture but I am pretty sure this was taken on Jeffrey’s installation day and would have been part of that day’s ceremony/procedure.

There’s loads that I’d like to write about this convention and other BBYO happenings, but I think I should consult with others before delving into details.

One abiding memory of this particular convention is the extremely cold and snowy weather over New Year that year. Some scallywags took full advantage:

*You can take the lad out of South London…*

My diary for the three days (29 to 31 December) simply reads:

29 December: CONVENTION
30 December: SHEER
31 December: MAGIC

Whereas my diary entry for 1 January 1979 reads:

1 January: Return from convention. Cold – both sorts.

I feel immensely fortunate that I had the opportunity to share my youth with the terrific bunch of people I met through BBYO.

The Flickr album link that follows (the picture below) takes you to all the black and white photos I took and/or that were taken on my camera during that convention. Trigger warning – there are more than 140 pictures:

Twelfth Night, The Aftermath, 17 December 1978

Image of 1970s-looking youngsters, a collaboration between me and & Dall-E

I also have a recollection about the after show party, to add to the voluminous piece on my Twelfth Night Production experience.

I had invited my extant (and soon to be ex) squeeze to the last night and the after show party. She told me she was especially impressed with Nathan Ariss’s Feste – a perfectly reasonable review, as I recall his performance was somewhat of a highlight. But at the party she seemed to put quite a lot of effort into letting Nathan know how impressed she had been. Nathan seemed in no rush to restore the natural dating order of things either. I let the girl know what I thought and I think that might have been my penultimate date with her. And it was a really really serious relationship – it had been going on for at least 5 or 6 weeks by then so was probably our 8th or 9th date.

I’m over it now. I really am.

I shared this recollection with the Alleyn’s Facebook group and made my peace with Nathan Ariss all these years later, not that there was ever an absence of peace at the time; I’m sure he was blissfully unaware of the matter back then.

Indeed, reflecting on the matter decades later, Nathan confused my lass with some other lass who had chatted him up/been chatted up by him at that party.

What a carry on – teenagers – honestly.

Twelfth Night, Alleyn’s School, 12, 14, 15 & 16 December 1978

Malvolio (Martin Brassell), Sir Toby Belch (Chris Grant) & Fabian (David Wellbrook). Thanks to Paul Hamer for extracting from Scriblerus.

Squeaky Newton (John Newton, the Deputy Head) tapped me up for this production, but I didn’t want to act again after the Andorra experience, which I had enjoyed but which had convinced me that, while I loved theatre, the boards weren’t really for me. But Squeaky persevered and suggested that I help with the production behind the scenes. I realised that I wanted to do that. He also suggested that I take a small part, Valentine, otherwise I’d feel a bit spare on the nights of the actual show.

Then, with various droppings out (Mark Stevens was originally cast as Antonio) I ended up with two parts and a fairly sizeable one in Antonio with only about four week’s notice for that one.

Meanwhile, I was so blasé about this production I didn’t mention it in my diary at all until a passing mention of “rehearsal” on Friday 17 November before going on to the grandmothers’ (yes, that apostrophe is in the right place, I did the rounds that night, “G Jenny for dinner, then on to G Anne”) places.

Occasional mentions of rehearsals for the rest of November, then best part of 2 weeks with no diary entries at all – very rare – but I guess the play and my other commitments were keeping me a bit too busy.

Next entry is 8 December “rehearsal for play till late”, then:

10 December “dress rehearsal went quite well for 12th Night”,
11 December “day of ignoring school play completely” (not really completely, because I mention the play in my diary entry),
12 December “12th Night matinee then on to BBYO (youth club) with makeup on still”,
13 December “day off from play”,
14 December “12th Night first proper night, very good”,
15 December “most important night of play – went brilliantly”,
16 December “went to school with Julie – last night of play – party afterwards which went on until one”.

I also have a small recollection of the after show party and its impact on the rest of my life – to follow/linked here.

Two more recollections about the production itself. Neil Kendrick, who was one of the officers, discombobulated one night and forgot to say the “away sir”…or whatever line it was that got Paddy Gray, me and him off the stage. I recall that Paddy and I needed to concoct some ad lib business to get the three of us the heck off the stage that night!!

Because I was late to the part of Antonio, I had limited time to learn lines and rehearse the part. Squeaky had also choreographed a brief sword fight with Sir Toby Belch (Chris Grant) before the law arrives, for which Chris and I were under-rehearsed.

One night, I think the first proper performance, unsurprisingly the fight went awry. Perhaps I got over-excited and forced too hard, or perhaps Chris wasn’t holding on tight enough to his sword. It’s too late now for blame or recriminations. Chris went on to be head boy and on the Board of Sport England, so let’s guess it was my fault.

Anyway, Chris’s sword flew out of his hand and over the edge of the stage. I remember listening out for a yelp from an impaled member of the audience, but I don’t think the sword had actually gone very far. Still, there we were, Chris and me, all dressed up, no place to go with our fight. The law weren’t expecting to come on to stop the fight for another 30 seconds or so. Another ad-lib classic, mercifully lost to posterity.

“Did you get good notices?” I hear you cry. Pretty good, it turns out. My recollection was that I had been damned with some faint praise, but in November 2020 Paul Hamer (thanks, Paul) dug out and dusted off his Scriblerus (as it were) to uncover the following rather charming notice by Chris Chivers, an English master who did not generally look kindly upon my slovenly approach to formal grammar.

With many thanks also to Mike Jones, who somehow survived being my form master and teaching me geography in the third year, preserved the programme and uploaded it to our Alleyn’s Facebook Group.

Going Steady With A Girl, Her Name Is Julie, November-December 1978

A couple of recent happenings and one imminent happening at the time of writing, mid-October 2017, triggered this early romance memory and some musical connections.

The imminent thing is the pilot of a new piece on Halloween Night 2017 (I don’t think we should read anything into the date) by my old school friend, Rohan Candappa. Rohan describes his nascent piece thus:

What I’m going to perform is a show called ‘What Listening To 10,000 Love Songs Has taught Me About Love’. It’s an exploration of love, and music, and how the two intertwine. it’s also about how our lives have a soundtrack. And how the songs on that soundtrack can both contain and convey so much meaning, so much of who we are.

As it happens, a few months ago (April 2017), Rohan gave me permission to publish a written “party piece” of his here on Ogblog, which I suspect has some of the emerging themes for his performance piece. Here is a link to my cover note and link to Rohan’s (well worth a read) piece, which includes links to several of my own “party pieces” and some music links.

In one of my party pieces, describing my November 1978 party, I alluded to my progression, at that very party, from random tonsil hockey player to a somewhat steadier approach to romance.

Julie was the first person I described as my girlfriend and with whom I described myself as “going steady”. This comparatively deep and meaningful relationship lasted a full five weeks, possibly even slightly longer. So this was a really serious relationship, until it all started going awry, at the post Twelfth Night party at Alleyn’s School just before Christmas – reported on Ogblog here.

The other recent event which helped conjured up these vivid 1978 memories is more obscure. Janie and I have been listening to John Shuttleworth’s Lounge Music on Radio 4 / iPlayer. It is very silly, but Janie and I enjoy the nonsense and of course novelty/comedy music has been very much my thing since I was a youngster. I only recently discovered the fact that John Shuttleworth is the alter-ego of Graham Fellows, who first found fame as Jilted John, back in that very same autumn of 1978.

I was relentlessly teased at the time by friends who knew I was “going steady” with “a girl, her name is Julie…” with excerpts from both sides of the Jilted John record.

Now look, I must be fair on my old friends from Streatham BBYO (the youth club where Julie and I hung out in those days) and my old friends from Alleyn’s School. If one of my pals had been following, almost word for word, the trajectory of Jilted John’s hapless romances, I’d have been up there leading the teasing myself.

But the upshot is, when I look back on the soundtrack of that first steady romance of mine, the only music I can truly connect with it is that Jilted John record.

Perhaps that Jilted John record really is an “exploration of love, and music, and how the two intertwine”?

Or perhaps in my case it “contains and conveys so much meaning, so much of who I am.”

If so, oh dear.

Anyway, try both sides of the record; I must admit to enjoying hearing both again after all this time.

Parenthetically, I’m sure I can hear the riff from the 1980 classic, “Stand Down Margaret” by The Beat in “Going Steady”. Stand Down Margaret has its own place in my life’s soundtrack, a little bit later in my young life, from the University days.

Also parenthetically, Going Steady was originally the A-Side of the record…

…but the Jilted John side went down better on radio play and became the A-side. The “Julie” story is within the better known side of the record – Jilted John:

The Double Dealer by William Congreve, Olivier Theatre, 12 October 1978

What a memorable day and special event; a group of us from Alleyn’s School saw The Double Dealer at the Olivier Theatre, having earlier been given a backstage tour of the National and a few weeks before before that been given the opportunity to “workshop” some of the scenes from The Double Dealer with National Theatre understudies and assistant directors.

Yet, so many years on, I struggled to remember much detail about the day of the theatre visit itself. My diary is not much help:

Thursday: Went to Curtain Theatre – Hillel House – Olivier Theatre. Great day.

So there you have it. Great day. What else would I need to write down? After all, it was such a memorable day I would remember every intricate detail – right? Wrong.

I am writing this Ogblog piece on 12 December 2018, the morning before I shall see The Double Dealer again, for the first time in over 40 years. I might recover some more memories of this 1978 day while watching at the Orange Tree Theatre, but I doubt it.

So I decided to “shout out” to my old school mates yesterday, hoping that some would chip in with memories of their own. That proved to be a good shout. Here’s Simon Ryan – who in fact shared lots of memories of our Lower 6th drama course – several of which will pop up in other Ogblog pieces in the fullness of time:

The trip to the National Theatre was a Thursday afternoon matinee at the National Theatre’s Olivier Theatre. Dorothy Tutin had a lead role. The supporting actors from the afternoon’s main show, included Gawn Grainger and Glyn Grain (Duncan Foord and I laughed at them rather than with them, I remember).
It was most definitely part of the Drama AO level course run by Mike Lempriere.
Can’t remember the details about other schools attending.
I remember Dan O’Neill knew the guy who gave us the backstage tour and relayed to us that he needed us to give him a favourable review to help him out. (Dan O’Neill’s elder brother, Hugh and the guy who ran the Bear Pit whose name eludes me, (Stephen Fry? ) but who looked rather like a Restoration fop with long curly black hair, both worked at the NT which is why he had an inside track.

I thought that Simon meant John Fry (not Stephen). John was the Journeyman in the Bear Pit’s production Andorra with us earlier that yearand no doubt went on to further Bear Pit glories later. I didn’t recall the foppish hair…probably because Simon was thinking of Tom Fry. Robert Kelly recalls:

The Bear Pit guy was Tom Fry (not Stephen Fry) and he had a younger brother John… Tom Fry was just as you describe, I thought he was the coolest thing I had ever seen when I first saw him. In fact he may still be…

It is interesting that Simon particularly remembers Dorothy Tutin‘s role. I did remember that, but I particularly remember the production for Ralph Richardson, not least because my parents went on and on about it being such an honour for me to see Ralph Richardson perform on the stage, albeit in his dotage.

Coincidentally, I have recently come across Ralph Richardson in a different context; on of the tennis professionals at Lord’s pointed out to me the similarity between my real tennis bag and that of Sir Ralph’s as exhibited in the main reception at Lord’s:

Sir Ralph’s kit. The legend with the exhibit reads, “…Although not a very gifted player, Sir Ralph was a devotee of real tennis…”

My kit. Mercifully, no legend provided with my exhibit.

But I digress. My point really is…what a cast! I mean, yes I know I am about to shout, WHAT A CAST!

The Theatricalia entry, with cast and crew for this production of The Double Dealer, can be found here.

Here are just some of the names (beyond Dorothy Tutin and Ralph Richardson) from the cast list who, in my view, either were or went on to be stars of stage and screen:

Nicky Henson
Dermot Crowley
Judi Bowker
Brenda Blethyn
Sara Kestelman
Robert Stephens
Michael Bryant
Janet Whiteside

Naturally, I am unable to assess how good a production or collection of performances that really was – it was the first time I had seen a major production of anything. I was completely star struck and stage struck by the whole experience. I thought it was simply the most amazing thing I had ever seen on the stage. Frankly, at that time, it unquestionably was. I guess I would be still be thrilled by that production if I could see it now.

Here’s Jerry Moore, talking about the Drama course generally as well as his memory of that particular outing:

It was an enjoyable course and really developed my enthusiasm for the theatre. Mike [Lempriere] was an excellent teacher but I remember he didn’t like Dorothy Tutin.
Funnily enough, I remember being disappointed with Dorothy Tutin too – but perhaps I was simply absorbing what my drama teacher had said and reflecting it as my own opinion. Anyway, what did we know? Dorothy Tutin picked up an Olivier Award that year for that performance.

The other thing I have done, prior to seeing the play again in December 2018, is actually read the whole play, for the first time.

What a simple, singular, linear plot. Just hints of subplot – Lady Pliant’s intrigues (although they are all connected to the main plot) and the parenthetic dalliance between Brisk and Lady Froth – with which I had so much fun a few weeks earlier at the rehearsal rooms. But oh so simple a storyline for a play of that period.

Congrieve recognises the simplicity in his (typically late 17th Century style) self-effacing dedication. To be fair, he was only 24 when he wrote this play and I think I can see signs of greater things to come.

Here is a link to the full text of the play from Project Gutenberg – free and available to all.

The music in the 1978 production was a new score by Harrison Birtwistle. I cannot find a source for that, but here is the overture from original score, by Henry Purcell:

I’d love to hear more memories and recollections, either from people who were part of our school party or indeed anyone else who remembers this production.

To echo Jerry Moore’s words, this was one of the main events that forged my lifelong enthusiasm for and love of the theatre. I realise that I was incredibly privileged to be allowed this experience and shall always be grateful for it.

An Unusual French Lesson, Alleyn’s School, c5 June 1978

I had a strange Alleyn’s School memory flash this morning (26 April 2017) while walking between meetings.

It must have been triggered by a conversation over the weekend in which a French gentleman named Bertrand was mentioned. I started to refer to the gentleman as Plastic Bertrand, unwittingly. (Yes, I know Plastic Bertrand is Belgian).

Then the memory flash. Summer 1978. A few weeks before our French ‘O’ level.

Our French teacher, the late lamented Trevor Tindale, had clearly become aware that the song “Ça plane pour moi” by Plastic Bertrand was riding high in the pop charts.

Naturally our ‘O’ level chances would be enhanced if we understood the idioms in the lyrics of that song. Also our grades might be enhanced if we thought carefully about improving the lyrics’ dodgy grammar and Franglais.

So we spent a few minutes in class deconstructing Ça plane pour moi.

Please don’t quiz me now on all the nuances of all the words and phrases. I don’t want to shame other less able students.

But still I should in all modesty report that I’m pretty sure I still know what “wham, bam, mon chat splatch” means. I can also make a pretty good fist of translating, “you are the king of the divan”.

I’m guessing c5 June 1978, as the song didn’t reach the top 10 until the preceding (half term) week and I’m fairly sure Trevor didn’t lighten the tone of the class this way just before the ‘O’ level.

If anyone else remembers this happening, I’d love to read some comments on it.

To jog memories further, here is a video of Plastic Bertrand singing the song with the lyrics all over the screen:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EfqGecFhaTc

Visiting Record & Tape Exchange With Paul Deacon, 29 April 1978

Chris Whippet / Music & Video Exchange, Notting Hill / CC BY-SA 2.0

My urge to write this posting emerged unexpectedly today (5 May 2016) after an emergency trip to the Retro Shop to try to find an appropriate pair of trousers for a 1960’s party.

Result: success, before you ask. Bright red, before you follow-up with the obvious next question.

The Retro Shop is at 28 Pembridge Road and the likely source of the party trousers was the basement of that shop. Despite its change of purpose within the “Exchange Empire”, I recognised the space immediately as the old bargain basement of Record and Tape Exchange. I inhabited that basement a great deal in my youth. Initially and several times subsequently, those visits were with Paul Deacon.

It was probably the pull of Record and Tape Exchange and my resulting familiarity with Notting Hill Gate that drew me to the neighbourhood in the late 1980s when ready to find my own place. With the benefit of hindsight, a most fortuitous draw.

But when did those visits start? I remember visits to The Slipped Disc in Clapham Junction with Paul perhaps as early as 1976 and certainly 1977. I’ll write that up separately once I have researched it.

But it isn’t until 1978 that I mention Record and Tape Exchange in my diary. 29 April 1978 to be precise.

Saturday 29 April – went to Jumbly’s, Record Exchange & Portobello with Paul.

Paul might remember what Jumbly’s is/was – I certainly don’t.

But I think our first attempt to go to Notting Hill Gate was a couple of weeks earlier during the school holidays. This entry from 12 April has got my brain ticking.

Wednesday 12 April – went out with Paul – bit of a disaster.

I have a vague memory of a day out with Paul when we were attempting to see Portobello and these second hand record shops we’d heard about, but somehow we got hopelessly lost and ended up wandering aimlessly around West Kensington and Olympia, until we returned home exhausted and unsatisfied. Paul might be able to fill in the details.

At the time I probably thought that any blame for such a “disaster” must rest with Paul. But nearly forty years subsequent experience of my personal geographical challenges suggests that the fault must have been at least as much, if not more, mine. The sat nav might have been invented just for me.

One more intriguing diary entry a few months later, but not (I believe) to do with Paul:

Saturday 29 July 1978 – Lazy day. Went to Record and Tape Exchange,

Very pithy. Doesn’t reveal much at all. I am pretty sure this must have been the day that I went up to Notting Hill Gate with a young lady known as Fuzz, with whom I’d had a gentle squeeze at Anil & Anita Biltoo’s party a couple of weeks before. This visit was especially memorable because it was a hot summer day and Fuzz became overwhelmed by the mustiness and dustiness of that basement, fainted, banged her head and needed to be revived by worried staff in the shop.

But apart from that, Mr Harris, how was your hot date?

I’m going to guess that I hadn’t been entirely straightforward with my parents (in particular my mum) with all the details of where I was going/had been and with whom, hence the pithy entry in the diary.

I am delighted to report that health and safety has improved a little at the 28 Pembridge Road basement in the past 38 years. Today it still had a musty, dusty atmosphere, but it was much mitigated by the back door being open to let in some fresh air.

Meanwhile, to support the comment below (triggered by a delightful Facebook message exchange with Paul) – here is the first page of my Record and Tape Exchange Transaction notes – there are pages and pages of them gathering dust in a file under the bed:

Andorra, 23, 24 & 25 February 1978

I got involved with “proper drama” at Alleyn’s for a couple of productions. Andorra by Max Frisch was the first of them, when I was just 15. Here are my diary extracts.

The first block, from January, shows little emotion or detail at having got a decent part in a Bear Pit production:

Friday 13 January 1978, Got a talking part in the school play – I’m the innkeeper – V pleased,

16 January 1978, should have rehearsed – cancelled,

17 January 1978, first Andorra rehearsal,

20 January 1978, rehearsed for Andorra, 23 January 1978, rehearsed for Andorra,

24 January 1978 Andorra rehearsal,

26 January 1978, rehearsed for Andorra,

27 January 1978, rehearsed for Andorra,

30 January 1978, rehearsed for Andorra,

31 January 1978, Andorra rehearsal.

Two weeks in, by the start of February, I’m a critic as well as a performer. Didn’t I know about hubris? I was way overconfident anyway – “perfected” is not a term I would ever use now:

Thursday 02 February 1978, rehearsed for Andorra – OK,

03 February 1978, rehearsed for Andorra – OK,

05 February 1978, first Sunday rehearsal for Andorra – not bad,

06 February 1978, rehearsed for Andorra,

07 February 1978, Andorra rehearsal – good,

09 February 1978, rehearsed for Andorra – good – seems to be OK,

10 February 1978, rehearsed in evening for Andorra,

12 February 1978 rehearsal for Andorra in afternoon – a good one,

13 February 1978, rehearsed for Andorra – not bad,

14 February 1978, scene 11 of Andorra perfected.

Matters were bound to take a turn for the worse after that and so they did:

Friday 15 February 1978, Dennis [Galvin] rushed to hospital last night with colitis – Mick Lemp [Michael Lempriere] has taken over,

16 February 1978, rehearsed for Andorra – not bad rehearsal but still looks poor,

17 February 1978, field day and rehearsal,

19 February 1978, rehearsal cancelled as Mick Lemp visits relatives in Exeter,

20 February 1978, Mick stuck in snowdrift, Dan [Shindler] in bed with flu, disaster for play,

21 February 1978, Rehearsed all day for Andorra – Mick & Dan & Den all absent,

22 February 1978, flop dress rehearsal this evening – does not look good.

But the show had to go on:

Thursday 23 February 1978, Yesterday’s flop dress rehearsal lead to an almost empty house [tonight] watching a great performance,

24 February 1978, 2nd night of Andorra – even better than last night – 3/4 house – enjoyed it,

25 February 1978, Last night of Andorra – 7/8 house – performance good – party afterwards – got drunk.

I suffered more than my fair share of embarrassment on the last two nights – written up and available by clicking here or through the link below:

Andorra Embarrassment Story, 24 February 1978

With thanks to Mike Jones, who rescued a copy of the programme, here are scans of the pages:

Andorra Embarrassment Story, 24 February 1978

The story of my selection, hubris, decline, fall and this production of Andorra’s resurrection can be seen by clicking here or below:

Andorra, 23, 24 & 25 February 1978

I’m pretty sure my parents came to see Andorra on the middle (Friday) night of the run. And I’m fairly sure the following dialogue (or something like it) took place on the drive home after the show.

MUM: I wasn’t very impressed by some of your school chums in the audience behind us.

ME: What happened, Mum?

MUM: Well, during the interval one of them said to his pals, “I’m looking forward to the bit where Harris has to run around the stage yelling ‘I’m not a Jew, I’m not a Jew.” Then they were giggling. I wasn’t going to let that pass without comment.

ME: Oh, God, Mum, what did you say to them?

MUM: I turned around and asked them why that was so funny. One of the boys explained, “because Harris is a Jew. But he has to run around the stage saying “I’m, not a Jew”. Then the boys giggled some more.

ME: …and then…

MUM: I said, “I’m well aware of all that. I’m his mother and I’ve helped him to learn his lines. I’m just trying to understand what makes it funny.” They went very quiet after that.

ME: Oh, Mum. I’m going to get mercilessly teased on Monday when I get back to school. Or worse. Why couldn’t you just let it go?

DAD: I knew it. I could have told you he’d be upset.

To be fair on the poor boys involved (and I do wonder who they might have been – any confessions?) it was an ironic, rather funny matter. Indeed, with the benefit of hindsight, my casting in the role of the Innkeeper might well have been based more on my physiognomy than my stagecraft. In any case, we cast had all had a bit of a laugh about the irony of me yelling “I’m not a Jew” during rehearsals and I saw little malice in the remarks as reported by my mum.

But to be fair on my mum, although I did get some serious ribbing on the Monday (as recorded in my diary), it was not at all to do with my mother’s intervention. Indeed the poor boys who got my mother’s tongue-lashing were probably more embarrassed than I was about that matter.

No-one would relish a tongue lashing from my mum. Cruel spectacles and cut glass voice to go with them.

No, the ribbing I received resulted from reports of my drunkenness at the after show party on the Saturday.

As to the exact details of my ribbing-inducing party antics, I recall very little. I do remember drinking far too much cheap party cider – a once-in-a-lifetime mistake (drinking cheap cider, not the occasional over-drinking). I think the party was at Tiggy’s house, mostly in a rather large garage/out-house. Or am I am confusing the Andorra party with the Twelfth Night party?…

…on reflection the Twelfth Night one, which was differently embarrassing, was held at the school, in the dining room if I recall correctly.

Twelfth Night, The Aftermath, 17 December 1978

Others who were a bit older (I was only 15-and-a-half) and a bit wiser (almost everyone else who was there) might recall the Andorra after show party better.

Still, my mother’s parental intervention was a pretty cringe-making one.

Oh mum!

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: