Princess Diana’s untimely death was not good news for topical satire. My classic lyric, She Ain’t Heavy She’s Bulimic, which had run in the show for much of the preceding four years, died along with Di and Dodi.
It was nigh on impossible to write anything that even touched on the topic which could get into the show…the following lyric being no exception. I felt at the time that Elton John’s Diana version of Candle in the Wind was a bit of a cash in on the tragedy, but it was not an idea ripe for the show at that time. Reads interesting now, 20+ years later.
VULTURE IN THE WIND (To the Tune of “Candle in the Wind”)
VERSE 1
Goodbye Elton John, Tho’ you ought to be long gone, Or even near forgotten, like Kajagoogoo or The Darts; You crawled out of the woodwork, You made your comeback just at the time, That your career was flagging, Like a eunuch’s poor spare part.
CHORUS 1
But it seems to me, you live your life, Like a vulture in the wind; Writing clichés at the death scene, With Bernie Taupin; Can’t escape your tinkled ivories across England’s verdant hills, You sound like Richard Clayderman, Or even Mrs Mills.
(Piano flourish and BLACKOUT)
Below is a video of Elton John singing Candle In The Wind with the lyrics on the screen.
That was my sole comment on the quality of this one in the log – I don’t think we were overly impressed despite the excellent cast. Niamh Cusack, Kerry Fox & Josette Simon, directed by John Crowley, initially at the Donmar Warehouse and then touring – we saw it at Richmond.
Another trip to the Proms with The Duchess (Janie’s mum) to see the European Community Youth Orchestra. The Duchess had a bit of a thing about youth orchestras.
This concert, under the baton of Bernard Haitink, was surely interesting if for no other reason than that. A great opportunity to see the great man.
We heard:
Ludwig van Beethoven – Piano Concerto No. 4 in G major
Anton Bruckner – Symphony No 7 in E major
Emanual Ax tinkled the ivories in the first piece of the night.
I don’t think this was the best rendition of Bruckner 7 I have ever seen…nor even the best rendition by Haitink, as we returned three years later to see the great man perform the same piece again, with the Berlin Philharmonic that time…but I think the following panning by Rick Jones in the Standard is a bit unfair.
I’ve never been sure about Shaw, but we thought we’d give this a try because it was The Almeida and because top flight Shaw productions were few and far between at that time.
Great cast and crew – see Theatricalia entry – including Emma Fielding, Richard Griffiths, Patricia Hodge, Penelope Wilton, Malcolm Sinclair and Peter McEnery, with David Hare in the director’s chair.
Despite all those good people, this one added to my/our sense of interminability, which had already been piqued by Suzanna Andler the previous week, which was soon followed by wall-to-wall coverage of Princess Diana’s tragic demise, which took ceaselessness to new levels.
Anyway, my contemporaneous words on Heartbreak House, speaking for both me and Janie:
Seemed interminable in the second half. Had “moments”, but all too few.
I remember this day very clearly, although I am sure there are many details the others can add. It would be super if John and Jenny were to chime in with their recollections.
Janie and I had planned to take public transport to the north side of the embankment on the Isle of Dogs and walk the Greenwich Foot Tunnel – I think it had recently reopened after refurbishment back then.
But while we were preparing to go out, the phone rang. It was my mum. My mum never used to ring on a Sunday morning – she would almost always wait for me to ring her.
Mum sounded distressed.
“It’s so awful, a tragedy,” mum said, through tears of anguish.
I thought something must have happened to my dad or some other close relative/friend.
“What’s happened, Mum?”, I asked. “Try to gather yourself and speak slowly.”
“What do you mean, ‘what’s happened’? You must know what’s happened. I know you don’t care much for the royal family…”
“…Mum, we’re going out shortly, we haven’t seen the papers or switched on the TV or radio this morning; just tell me what’s happened.”
We set off for Greenwich much later than we’d intended – so the idea of using public transport and a stroll through the Greenwich Foot Tunnel went out of the window.
Plan B was to revert to the Janie norm – we got into the car and drove to Greenwich. By the time we found somewhere to park (we hadn’t thought about that bit)…eventually finding a place near the market but some way from the Trafalgar…then walked from the parking place to the Trafalgar…we were quite late.
John and Jenny were neither fazed nor surprised that we were a bit late in the circumstances.
I remember John and I bemoaning the fact that a rich seam of our topical comedy for NewsRevue had died in that car crash along with the victims of the tragedy. We also had one of those, “when, if ever, will we be able to make Princess Diana jokes again?” conversations.
We had a very good lunch and talked about much else besides the day’s news.
I recall the four of us having a bit of a stroll after lunch.
After we parted company with John and Jenny, Janie and I wandered around Greenwich market for a while, as the car was parked near there and we were in no rush to get home.
I remember buying a dozen or so CDs that afternoon, more or less doubling the size of my CD collection. I had only bought a CD player for the first time a year or so earlier. Being a reel-to-reel and records dude, I was wicked-late to CDs. I bought mostly sixties compilations that day, plus a few iconic albums; Pet Sounds (Beach Boys), Gift From A Flower To A Garden (Donovan) and The Harder They Come (Jimmy Cliff and others) to name but three.
No pictures from the day that Princess Diana died, but here is one from the 1977 set. I couldn’t possibly have imagined what I’d be up to 20 years later, let alone 40 years later, when the following picture was taken.
Time Traveller. Me at the Greenwich meridian line 31 August 1977
I think The Duchess must have chosen this one. I don’t remember her being partial to a bit of Brahms, but she must have been. I am quite partial to Brahms too.
In truth I don’t remember this particular concert well. I was familiar with the Dvorak and Brahms pieces but not the Lutoslawski one. I’m not sure I am much the wiser having heard it.
No holds barred it seems for my contemporaneous verdict on this one:
Interminable – I can’t imagine how we ever got round to returning for the second half – but we did.
To add to the interminable nature of the evening, it seems we had Pauline, The Dowager Duchess of Castlebar (Janie’s mum) with us that evening. We went to Don Fernando’s (25 years on, now late lamented) for a meal after the show.
Julie Christie will have been the draw for this show, but clearly she and the cast were not enough to rescue the thing. Here is the Theatricalia entry for it. Super cast, actually, when you see the names Robert Hickson, Aden Gillett and Julie Legrand alongside that of Christie.
Here’s what the Leatherhead Advertiser said of it when it transferred on to Guildford:
That was my one word verdict on my log about this one.
Richard Eyre directing Samantha Bond, Eoin McCarthy, Ronald Pickup, Dame Judi and other excellent members of the cast – here is the Theatricalia entry for this play/production.
Our friend Michael Billington didn’t like it much:
So, only me and Janie rating it highly when it first came out then – but Amy’s View transferred to the West End and Broadway picking up Tony nominations and a New York Drama Critic’s award.
I am writing this memory piece on 4 December 2019, having just learnt that the great fast bowler and latterly cricket pundit, Bob Willis, has died today.
For those who cannot be bothered to click through, Graham and I really did meet Bob that day in 1977, down in the tube station, an hour or so after stumps, as we were all heading to different households in Streatham, in his case to visit friends on the test match rest day.
I doubt very much whether Bob recognised me 20 years later on our second encounter; on this occasion in the Albertine Wine Bar in Shepherd’s Bush.
Teresa Bestard was working with me on several projects with Broadcasting Support Services, who at that time were based in Shepherd’s Bush. I had arranged to meet Teresa and David Highton to go through stuff late afternoon/early evening and we agreed we’d have a drink after work together. Teresa chose Albertine because she wanted to celebrity spot.
The bar was not so crowded when we got there and Teresa was a little disappointed not to recognise any celebrities in the bar.
The only person I recognised, on the far side of the bar, was Bob Willis. He was with two other people; one turned out to be the cricket journalist Michael Henderson, the other a mustachioed Aussie, who looked like a superannuated version of Merv Hughes but who was in fact a wine producer.
I told Teresa that a former great England cricketer was in the bar, which was celebrity enough for me. It was celebrity enough for David Highton too, who is/was a keen follower of cricket and indeed was a decent player in his own right when he turned out for the charity matches.
Teresa let it be known that former cricketers did not meet her stringent criteria for celebrity.
David didn’t hang around for very long.
Teresa asked me a bit more about Bob Willis. In the absence of any celebrities who met her stringent criteria, she suddenly promoted Bob to the “worth asking about” level.
I told her a little and suggested that she approach Bob and chat with him.
Teresa was not at all keen on that idea…
…until she progressed to a second glass of wine…
…when she asked again about this cricket business and that cricketer and I suggested that she approach Bob Willis with a greeting along the lines of…
…aren’t you Bob Willis, the great fast bowler and former England cricket captain…
…and take it from there.
So imagine the scene. Teresa Bestard, a pint-sized young woman with a big smile and a heavy Catalan accent, wanders to the other side of the bar, looks up to the relative giant, Bob Willis, presumably saying the above short speech.
I couldn’t hear from my distance, but I did see the astonished expression on Bob Willis’s face and gales of laughter from the group.
Teresa was then chatting with them for a short while, before Michael Henderson came over to me.
You set that up, didn’t you?…
..said Henderson…
…that was really funny. Is she your girlfriend?
No, I said, Teresa’s a work colleague.
Well, anyway, she’s perfectly safe with those two.
Henderson and I chatted a while, which is how I found out, amongst other things, that “Merv Senior” was a wine producer.
Soon enough, Bob, “Merv Senior” and Teresa came over to our table – I think the Bob Willis party had been on the verge of leaving when Teresa intervened with them, so all three of them made to leave.
Is this your girlfriend?…
…Bob Willis asked me, pointing to Teresa.
Oh no, blushed Teresa, you should meet his girlfriend Janie, she’s lovely!
Bob Willis turned to me, saluted me and said…
…mon capitaine…
…before all three of Bob’s party left us, with warm farewells.
This was our one visit to the Proms that season away from the clutches of The Duchess. I had fallen into the habit of treating her to one ort wo Proms each season, by that time. Janie and I occasionally also went to something of our own choosing.
On this occasion, I think the programme looked unusual and yet approachable. Alexander Lazarev conducting the Royal Scottish National Orchestra. I wanted to hear Francesca da Rimini performed live and Janie had acquired a taste for countertenor singing. Plus some unusual pieces.
Mikhail Ivanovich Glinka – Capriccio brillante (on the Jota Aragonesa)
Sergey Prokofiev – Violin Concerto No. 2 in G minor
Giya Kancheli – Symphony No. 3
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky – Francesca da Rimini
Alexander Glazunov – Raymonda, Op 57 No. 26 Grand pas espagnol Act 2- encore
Trad. – Eightsome (reel) – encore
What could possibly go wrong?
Nothing. Nothing went wrong. Although in truth, I don’t recall much about the lesser-known pieces and I cannot for the life of me work out where the countertenor fits in with this collection of pieces. Janie cemented her view that she didn’t like Prokofiev and that big symphony orchestra concerts were not really her favourite thing. Still, we both very much enjoyed our evening.
Here’s what the Glinka sounds like:
Here’s a good recording of the Prokofiev.
The Kancheli is strange yet certainly haunting:
I really enjoyed the Francesca da Rimini. Here is a more recent version of it from The Royal Festival Hall, but you’ll get the idea:
Dig this little bit of the Glazunov:
Fine composer, was Trad. Should have paired up with Anon – they could have been the Lennon and McCartney of the 11th to 19th centuries. Yet Janie insisted that the final encore was Trad’s “Tiresome Reel” rather than Eightsome Reel. I kinda see her point:
Geoffrey Norris in The Telegraph wrote very fondly of this Prom:
Rick Jones was less impressed in The Standard. I’m not quite sure what he means by an errrant electronic high-pitched note. Janie would argue that Prokofiev is meant to sound like that.
