Following in the Footsteps of CD

Tags

A Christmas Carol, American Notes, Boston, Charles Dickens, Dune, Hartford, London, Long Island, New Haven, NYC, Stephen Spielberg, Worcester

Monday was to be a day of travel, with no performing commitments at all as I moved from Worcester to Long Island. I had only stayed at The Beechwood for three nights but it was beginning to feel like a permanent base and I would have to sweep the room a number of times to ensure that I had left nothing behind.

After breakfast (a simple continental which to avoid providing a large buffet table which would encourage people to congregate, the kitchen had plated up selections of pastries, yoghurt, cereal and fruit), I returned to the room, finished writing and began to pack. Because my costumes and props were hanging in the car, the case was a lot lighter than usual, which added to the feeling that I must have left something behind, but I checked and checked and re-checked until I was certain that I had every charger, lead, pen, document, book and magazine, before finally closing up my bags and leaving.

It was a clear but cold morning and I was soon on the road heading south. There was a dusting of snow in the woods and on the fields as I drove which sparkled in the morning sun and gave a very festive feel to the journey. Through the car’s audio system, which I had paired to my phone, I was listening to the audio book recording of Peter Ackroyd’s brilliant biography of the city of London, recorded by fellow Dickens one man performer, Simon Callow. It was strange to listen to, actually, for Ackroyd was responsible for one of the most comprehensive biographies of Charles Dickens and Callow has become the voice of Charles over the years, so it was very difficult to remember that this was not a book about Dickens! However, the story of London is a fascinating one and the miles passed by easily.

As I drove, I pondered my route south, taking me from Worcester to Hartford, New Haven and on to New York, which would take up a little over three hours of my day, and I suddenly realised that I would be travelling in the footsteps, or at least in the rail tracks and wake, of Charles Dickens in 1842 when he made exactly the same journey. He had arrived in Boston after a particularly rough sea crossing from Liverpool, and had spent plenty of time there, visiting the mills of Lowell and meeting lots of friends before preparing to travel. Early in February he set off by railroad from Boston to Worster, which he described in American Notes as being ‘a very pretty New England town’. He stayed in the city with the State Governor for two days, before continuing on the railroad to Springfield.

On my journey my thoughts were less on the beauty of the scenery, but more on the sight that filled my mirror, for it felt like I was being terrorised by a truck, as if I had stepped into Stephen Spielberg’s movie Dune. For a while I had been driving in the company of a huge black Peterbilt truck, the faceless driver of which was being incredibly agressive (not just with me, he was trying to own the entire freeway). In my mirror the two towering exhaust pipes on either side of the cab looked like the horns of a devil (the effect enhanced by the black and red livery), whilst the great square radiator grill, looked as it were opening in preparation to devour my little red car. Every time that traffic contrived to separate us, I breathed a sigh of relief, but in no time I would hear the deep gutteral growl as the diesel engine revved and he swept back by me again.

We left Massachusetts and drove on into Connecticut and soon I could see the unmistakable skyline of Hartford to my right. On Charles Dickens’ journey in February1842 he had left the railroad at Springfield and, as The Connecticut River was relatively free of ice, he would continue to Hartford by water.

‘The captain of a small steamboat was going to make his first trip for the season that day (the second February trip, I believe, within the memory of man), and only waited for us to go on board. Accordingly, we went on board, with as little delay as might be. He was as good as his word, and started directly.

It certainly was not called a small steamboat without reason. I omitted to ask the question, but I should think it must have been of about half a pony power. Mr. Paap, the celebrated Dwarf, might have lived and died happily in the cabin…’

‘I am afraid to tell how many feet short this vessel was, or how many feet narrow: to apply the words length and width to such measurement would be a contradiction in terms. But I may state that we all kept the middle of the deck, lest the boat should unexpectedly tip over.’

In contrast to the lovely clear winter’s day on which I was travelling, Dickens also pointed out that ‘It rained all day as I once thought it never did rain anywhere, but in the Highlands of Scotland.’

Having reached Hartford Charles enjoyed the space of a comfortable hotel and continued towards New York that night by railroad again

I think that, even despite the predatory truck which still stalked me, I was happier in my little cherry red Rogue, than Charles had been on his tiny steam boat!

As I had no particular time agenda, I decided that it might be fun to do a little exploring, and when I saw signs for the town of Wallingford, I decided to leave the main route and see what I could see.

I had chosen this particular town because it bears the same name as a small town close to us in Oxfordshire, and it felt like a nice way to make a connection with home. I found a parking spot outside a small grocery stop close to the railroad which passes through the town, and as I alighted from the car, I was rewarded with that most American of all sounds, the clanging of a crossing bell and the hooting of a train as it approached the crossing, actually two trains, and my senses were assulted as they passed each other.

I walked around the streets of what was obviously a very close-knit community, and eventually found a large and very old cemetery, the notice at the gate informing me that it had been opened circa 1683. I am always fascinated by the stories that a cemetery has to tell and spent quite a while just walking along the rows of old stones, picking out particular family names that spread across generations: relations who had never known each other in life but who were now united in that place.

One thing that I always look for for among grave stones is for someone who shared my birthday, and I almost found it in Wallingford, but on close investigation the date was a day out – the gentleman in question having been born on October 10 1818, whereas I was born on October 9, it was close enough though and imagine my surpise when I stepped back and looked at the family name: Jeralds.

It was getting a bit cold now and I walked back to the car to continue my journey towards New York, passing signs to New Haven, where Dickens had stopped for a night, commenting on the beautiful old Elm Trees that abounded in the city.

As I got closer to New York, entering The Bronx, I hit traffic. Heavy traffic. Stationary traffic. I looked at my phone and managed to find an alternative route, but I was very glad that I did not have a show scheduled for that evening, for I would be beginning to feel very nervous. My new route took me through some elegant neighbourhoods, where Christmas decorations were hung and sacks of leaves were waiting to be taken away, which was a very nice, albeit brief, constrast to the strip malls and factories that line the main routes. Traffic cleared, I motored on and now it was time to leave Charles’ journey, for he had headed into the heart of New York City whereas I turned to the east and follwed signs for the Throgs Neck Bridge which took me onto Long Island, and it was as I crossed the great green suspension bridge that I caught my first glimpse of the Manhatten skyline, almost ghost like as the winter sun was low in the sky behind it. It was an amazing view of an amazing city.

I continued on until I reached my destination, a large Marriott hotel in the town of Uniondale.

On Tuesday I will be performing A Christmas Carol at the nearby Public Library, but during the day I will have the opportunity to explore Long Island and maybe make a literary pilgrimage!

Bonus Blog: Dickens at the Parker House

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Boston, Charles Dickens, The Boston Globe, The Tremont Theatre

Shortly before I left England to fly to Boston I received a tweet asking me if I had ever performed at The Omni Parker House in the city? The answer is yes and I have had some very pleasant times there.

When Charles Dickens travelled to America in 1867 to perform his readings of A Christmas Carol it was at The Parker House Hotel on the corner of Tremont Street and School Street where he stayed. In fact he made it his base for the five months duration of his stay in the country, taking a suite of rooms to which he would return having travelled to New York, Washington DC, Philadelphia and the other cities where he performed. On his arrival he wrote to his daughter Mary, telling her that ‘This is an immense hotel, with all manner of white marble public passages and public rooms. I live in a corner high up, and have a hot and cold bath in my bed-room (communicating with the sitting-room), and comforts not in existence when I was here before. The cost of living is enormous, but happily we can afford it’

The Parker House, circa 1855

The situation of The Parker House was perfect for Dickens’s purposes because it was situated right next door to the Tremont Theatre where he would perform when in Boston. He could remain in the comfort of his rooms until the last moment before making the short walk to the venue and delighting the audiences.

By 1867 Charles Dickens was in poor health and the winter in the North East of America was a particularly harsh one, with freezing rain, strong winds and heavy snow all combining to keep him suffering a permanent cold in the head as well as infections to his feet that he would complain of up to the time of his death. In 1869, two years after his stay in Boston, he wrote in answer to a social invitation:

‘I am very sorry that I cannot have the pleasure of accepting your kind invitation. But I am occasionally
subject to a Neuralgic (or whatever else it may be) attack in the foot, which originated a few years ago, in over-walking in deep snow, and was revived by a very hard winter in America; and it has so plagued me, under the dinings and other engagements of this London Season, that I have been lame these three weeks, and have resolved on an absolute rest in Kent here, and an avoidance of hot rooms, and an unbroken quiet training, for some months’

During his first visit to America in 1842 Charles had been rushing about everywhere, seeing everything, but by 1867 he largely remained in his hotel unless travelling or performing, so the comfort and ‘excellent cuisine’ was important to him.

The Parker House that Dickens stayed in was actually not the one that stands on the same site now, as it was demolished and rebuilt in the 1920s, so his actual suite doesn’t exist any more, but the hotel were sensible enough to save the door to his rooms, as well as a large wall mirror in which it was reputed that the great man would rehearse; this assumption is probably correct as Dickens always used mirrors to check his facial expressions whether as part of his rehearsal regime or even when writing his novels.

I have been fortunate to visit, and stay in the Parker House on a number of occasions, the most memorable occasion being in 1999, for that was the year in which I was booked to perform in the same Tremont Theatre that Charles himself had graced 132 years before. The show was presented by a collective involving some leading lights in Boston’s professional theatre scene, and was very well promoted. My first duty was to host a press conference in ‘The Dickens Suite’, and having regaled the journalists for half an hour or so, I was passed into the hands of their photographers. I don’t remember how many there were, but they all wanted me gazing far into mirror, as if I were somehow connecting with my ancestor. One photographer, from The Globe, I think waited until last and confided in me that he didn’t want to do the mirror shot, as every one else was using it, so he took me to somewhere else in the hotel and did his own thing. The day had gone well and I returned to my room to relax, but within the hour my phone rang, it was the photographer from The Globe, who had been told in no uncertain terms that the paper MUST have the mirror shot, so could he come back and pose me as all the others had?

Looking on line now it is strange that non of the mirror pictures seem to have been archived, whereas the first one that the Globe photographer had taken, still exists showing a VERY young Gerald Dickens being looked over by a huge portrait of Charles.

The day of the show at The Tremont was extraordinary, it was a huge crowd. As Charles had done I remained in my Parker House room until shortly before the show and just as I was about to leave the phone rang, it was one of the journalists ‘How are you feeling about the show, hey, you must be REALLY nervous!’ Well, if I hadn’t been before, I certainly was now!

The performance itself was one of those events that will stay in my memory for ever. I watched the audience fill the hall, from a little niche near to the stage, and the atmosphere was infectious and remarkable. When everyone was seated the lights dimmed and I walked onto the same stage that Charles Dickens had walked onto, and looked at the same auditorium that Charles Dickens had looked at. I paused, and then said the same words that Charles Dickens had said: ‘Marley was dead to begin with…..’

I would love to repeat that experience, for my performance is now more suited to a large theatre and I think it would be an amazing event, and if I did do it again I would certainly make sure that I stayed at The Omni Parker House!

Lupper or Linner?

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens, Ebenezer Scrooge, Henry V, Jacob Marley, The Mechanics Hall, Vaillancourt Folk Art, William Shakespeare, Winterthur, Worcester

Sunday would see me perform A Christmas Carol twice more at Vaillancourt Folk Art and, just to keep me on my toes, the times were different to those on Saturday with the metaphoric curtain going up at 12 and 4.

The morning at The Beechwood featured a video call to home, which was particularly lovely, and a chance to catch up with life back in England. When the call was over, I went down to breakfast. Our youngest daughter had told me that they had enjoyed pancakes for breakfast and I had promised that I would order the same for me – oh, the sacrifices I have to make as a parent!

In the restaurant I took a seat by the window and in a short while a very elderly couple made their slow way to the table next to mine. The lady remarked on my sweater (a red Christmas design covered with snowmen), and we fell into a brief conversation – they came from Buffalo, NY, ‘Where,’ they told me, ‘The real snow is!’ We discussed the abilities of various states and countries to deal with snowfall, and then by means of a silent agreement that we had chatted for long enough, turned to our respective breakfasts. It was one of those beautiful moments when you make an unexpected connection for an instant, and the world is a better place for it. When I left the restaurant I wished them safe travels home, and our worlds separated again.

Back in my room, I showered and made preparations for the day ahead, which really only involved grabbing 2 fresh shirts and 2 fresh pairs of socks from my case, as everything else was still hanging in my dressing room in Sutton. I left the room at around 10 and in no time was walking into the Christmas fantasy land of the Vaillancourts.

Firstly, I checked the stage, although I had made sure that everything was in place after the previous night’s performance – this is good theatrical practice, as soon as a show is done to prepare the stage for the next performance and if I am in a venue for multiple events, it is something I always do. Of course, I always also check that everything is exactly as I left it immediately prior to a show. On the current occasion the cloth was draped over the chair, the stool was in its starting position and my hat and scarf were back in the dressing room, all was good to go.

I also took the opportunity to chat a little with Curtis about the head mic which had refused to stay in place during Saturday’s performances, this not only made me feel nervous and uncomfortable, but also effected the sound quality, as the mic unit itself was never in the same place relative to my mouth. He said he had another headpiece in his equipment and we tried that, it was a much tighter fit and felt much more secure. I returned to the dressing room and Gary called in to say hello and also to leave a stack of the souvenir brochures that Ian and I created a few years ago, for me to sign. With no actual post-show signing sessions, venues are taking the opportunity to have me sign plenty of product before the events, so that audience members can still take autographed merchandise home with them. I finished the pile of books and then got into costume, giving myself plenty of time after the previous day’s debacle.

My dressing room is quite large, and at the far end is a small office which is where Gary works during the days. He is tucked away and has no view of the warehouse, so he has a little motion-activated alarm which ends out a series of chimes whenever anyone is approaching. With my penchant for pacing up and down I was constantly setting off this device during my days there, but yesterday as I was sat on a sofa reading my book, the alarm went off and a voice asked if it was ok to come in. There was Anna, Luke’s wife, with their two kids, Nate and Charlie, who are growing up rapidly. We had a lovely chat and took a few photos, before she whisked both boys off to a playpark for the afternoon.

The audience were in now and it was time to begin. For my own state of mind, I had to make this a good show (I was still upset with myself about the day before), and it was. I felt very strong and committed. The new head mic certainly made a difference and the audience were top notch. It was a performance that I was very happy with.

The Q&A went very well, and these are proving to be a very popular part of the show – the feedback from Gary, Judi and all of the staff has been that the audience members have particularly enjoyed the sessions, and although they miss having their books signed, and pictures taken, the opportunity to listen to a few anecdotes and opinions is one they relish.

Having changed I was just hanging my costumes up when Luke poked his head in and told me that an old friend had been in the audience: Ellen Taviano, with whom I have worked for many years at Winterthur in Delaware, wanted to say hi! Sadly, Winterthur had laid off all of their retail staff during the pandemic, and Ellen had found a new position at Old Sturbridge Village which is located not far from Sutton (Ellen had wanted me to perform for here there, but Gary put a VERY firm foot down! Possession is very much nine tenths of the law). It was lovely to catch up and Ellen had been delighted to see the entire show for once, as event organizers always have some issue to contend with and rarely get to sit through a complete performance. I will be returning to Winterthur later on this tour, but it won’t feel the same without Ellen at the helm.

Having said goodbye, I made my way up into the office where another impressive buffet meal had been laid out. I had to ponder what the correct balance was between an energy-restoring meal and over indulging meaning that I would be sluggish at the next performance, and it was while I was struggling to make this decision when a message pinged into my phone – this was from – ok bear with me, it is slightly complicated – Liz’s sister’s sister and brother-in-law’s daughter, who lives in Connecticut and had also been at the show! Fortunately, she was still in the building, and we were able to meet up, masked and distanced to have a completely unexpected reunion. Amy was there with her wife and father-in-law, (all of whom have seen the show before, in another, less than perfect location), and two friends. We chatted about various things, including family news, and all agreed that the venue at Vaillancourts was a much better place to watch the show than the very soulless hotel function room where they had last seen it in their home state.

Amy’s parents have been amazing to Liz and me over the last couple of years and we have had some lovely times on their remote farm which nestles in a Devon valley: we feel very much a part of their family. It was a really nice surprise to see Amy, and hopefully we can all meet up again in England next Summer.

Back to to my lunch/supper (the blending of breakfast and lunch has its own word, so I feel that this meal should have done too: is lunch and supper called ‘Lupper’? or is it not supper, but dinner, in which case it should be ‘Linner’. Anyway, I chose some soup and salad and a pulled pork sandwich. I decided against any dessert in the interests of theatrical mobility. Having said that the dessert on offer was a Pecan Pie and I was amazed when one of the staff pronounced it ‘Pee-Can’, as the British say it, rather than ‘Pi-Carn’, as I had been led to believe is the correct American pronunciation. I commented on this and another member of the team put me straight by telling me what her mother had told her: ‘It is always Pi-Carn, because you pee in a can and you wouldnt want to eat THAT in a pie!’ Fair enough, and now I know!

Back to the dressing room for the 4 o’clock show and another full house of excited audience members filed in and availed themself of the bar service. By this time Gary and Judi had departed to catch their flight to Germany, so it was down to Luke to step into his father’s shoes and make the introductions, which he did with great style. It was another very enjoyable and successful show, with a particularly lively audience. My delight was literally crowned when at the moment that Scrooge flips his top hat into the air as he gets ‘dressed in all of his best’ it landed square and safely on my head earning me a huge cheer!

The final Q&A at Vaillancourts was interesting, with one lady asking what was my favourite line in the show (actually she initially didn’t specify A Christmas Carol, but asked about any show that I had been involved with, but we reigned that in), I settled on a line that doesn’t normally feature in my one act show, and that is when Jacob Marley is tormented by thoughts of his business: ‘Mankind was my business! The common welfare was my business. Charity, mercy, forbearance and benevolence were all my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!’

On reflection now, and in answer to her initial question, I would say that the prologue to Shakespeare’s Henry V ranks among my favorites as it sums up the entire art of the theatre: ‘….a kingdom for a stage, princess to act and monarchs to behold the swelling scene.’ and, ‘…can this cockpit hold the vasty fields of France? Or may we cram within this wooded O the very casques that did affright the air at Agincourt?’, and again, ‘Think when we talk of horses, that you see them printing their proud hooves i’ the receiving earth: for ’tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings, carry them here and there; jumping o’er times, turning the accomplishment of many years into an hour-glass….’

I have not acted in Henry V but I did perform that prologue as an opening to an evening of Shakespeare and music a few years ago. The performance was in a magnificent Church and I made the speech as I walked up the aisle, through the audience with the beautiful language circulating into the high vaulted ceiling. It was very special moment.

Back at Vaillancourts the final question was about Dickens’ own trips to America and specifically to the city of Worcester, which enabled me to tell the story about his reading in The Mechanics Hall when the performance was accompanied by the sounds of cocks (roosters) crowing. The poultry were all caged ready for a sale the following day and had been stored in a second story hall immediately beneath the grand hall where Dickens was performing. When the gas lights on Charles; set were ignited the bright light shone through the floorboards, thereby waking the roosters who announced the apparent dawn with great gusto!

It was a good anecdote to finish with.

And so, my time with the Vaillancourts was over for another year and when I had packed up, I said goodbye to all the staff, and hung my costumes in the car (which can now be their permanent wardrobe), and drove away into the night.

From Massachusetts I will be driving to Long Island and with an entire day to travel I may even get a little time for some sightseeing along the way.

Thank you, Gary, Judi and Luke, it is always a great pleasure to spend time in your company and to perform in such a warm and intimate setting.

For Dawn

Tags

A Christmas Carol, A Christmas Carol film, Build the Kingdom at Kids Castle, Byers'Choice, Charles Dickens, Dawn Byers, Dickens and Staplehurst. A Biogrpahy of a Rail Crash, Ebenezer Scrooge, Mr Fezziwig, Vaillancourt Folk Art

On Small Business Saturday (the day set aside to promote independent retailers after the huge corporate splurges of Black Friday and ahead of the online bean feast of Cyber Monday), I would be travelling to my old friends at Vaillancourt Folk Art, the true embodiment of a successful small business, to perform for the first time on the second leg of my tour. There can be few more welcoming venues in the USA, not only thanks to the very genuine friendship of Gary, Judi and Luke, but also thanks to the venue which is decorated in wonderful style. Old Ebenezer Scrooge’s gravestone is there, as is a replica of Charles Dickens’ reading desk, whilst a huge larger-than-life cut out of Mr and Mrs Fezziwig dancing hangs in the old warehouse where my dressing room is situated. The Vaillancourts ‘make Christmas’ and to be surrounded by so many seasonal icons means that one can hardly fail to put one’s best foot forward and do the best job possible.

The day didn’t get off to a promising start when I woke at around 1.45 am, but I dozed on and off for the next few hours before waking properly at around 5. I stayed in my room until around 7.30 at which point I went to have some breakfast in a deserted restaurant. It was a quiet morning, as I didn’t have to be in the small community of Sutton until 12. I spent the time catching up with some emails and admin for future venues on the trip (sending sound effects and stage plans etc), and generally lounging around in my room, even occasionally catching up on a few more winks here and there.

As the morning moved on, I made sure that I had everything that I would need for two shows, and at around 11.15 I loaded up my Rogue and set off through the streets of Worcester for the twenty-minute drive. The drizzle and snow of the evening before had cleared and it was a beautifully crisp bright winter’s day. If I had thought about it earlier, I would have stopped off for a brief walk in the spectacularly named Purgatory Chasm, which would have helped to blow the jet lag cobwebs away and energise me a little, but as it was, I had to speed by.

Vaillancourt Folk art is housed in an old warehouse building and features a large store selling the exquisitely produced hand painted Santa ornaments which Judi designs based on antique German chocolate moulds. To the right as you enter are the benches where artists carefully create the figures and beyond that a ramp which leads to the Blaxton Theater where I perform.

It was to the latter space that I made my way so that I could offload my costumes and bags and there I found Luke making preparations for the afternoon’s events. Luke is Gary and Judi’s son who over the last few years has become ever more involved in the company and is now starting to take over the tiller from his parents and to steer his own course.

As with all venues the Vaillancourts had to find a way of reducing audience numbers, to allow for a degree of social distancing, while still making the event profitable, and the solution that they came up with was to remover three rows of theatre seating and replacing it with a series of VIP tables each seating 2 people, which could be sold for a premium rate.

Luke has a background of hospitality and recently has been becoming more and more involved in the selling of fine wines, even commissioning a Vaillancourt wine, so the move towards a cabaret style event was a natural progression.

Luke and I chatted and I arranged the set as I wanted it, draping the red cloth over the chair and setting Bob Cratchit’s stool in the correct place, then I took my costumes into my dressing room at the back of the building.

We had plenty of time before the first show which was to be at 2pm, and having hung my costumes up I returned to the theatre where Luke introduced me to Curtis who was to be looking after all of the sound requirements for the two days. He produced a head mic which I always dread for they never stay hooked over my ears, but we did a good sound check and he roamed throughout the room to check the quality throughout. We then spent a little time discussing the various sound cues before we all went our separate ways to prepare.

In order to maximise the wine and glühwein sales Gary had asked for the two act version of my show this year, so I spent a while going over the extra lines in my dressing room. It was not, as I would point out later during the Q&A session, a question of remembering the lines per se, but remembering to actually say them: the one act version of the script is so grooved that it is easy just to skip over the spot where the extra passages should be.

Soon I could hear the audience gathering, so I started to get into costume and waited for the off. I paced around the warehouse unto Gary called to me ‘5 minutes!’ I stood at the door while he introduced me and then I made my slow way through the audience to the strains of The Trans-Siberian Orchestra. The afternoon audience were very obviously made up of hardened fans who were out to enjoy themselves, for they were coming in with lines a few seconds before I said them, as if two years had been too long to wait and they wanted to get to their favourite passages as soon as possible! When I performed Mr Fezziwig’s dance I even got a round of applause for my efforts.

I arrived at the interval and left the stage to applause, and spent the next 20 minutes pacing constantly to keep my energy levels up. As I walked to and fro, I noticed a huge crate in which my sound equipment had been transported in – ok not quite backstage at Live Aid, but it did look very impressive.

After twenty minutes Gary came to say that we were ready to get going again. The second act was dramatic and intense and went very well leading to a whooping standing ovation at the end.

As at all venues this year I was not doing a signing session, but instead took questions from the audience: one was an interesting variation of a common query – ‘which movie version would be Charles Dickens’ favourite?’ He probably wouldnt have liked the change to the ending of the Alastair Simm one, so the popular vote was out, maybe George C Scott, possibly, or even one of the animated versions (he would have been astounded by the modern technology which would be magic to him – a huge advance over the magic lantern shows which he enjoyed.)

Gary nicely asked me about my researching of The Staplehurst book which enabled me to promote it: He had ordered thirty copies for my performances and all had already sold, so he was busily taking orders for new stock.

After a few more questions Gary wrapped proceedings up and the audience made their way home while I changed back into my regular clothes. A between-show supper had been laid on and I joined Gary, Judi, Luke and other staff members to eat sandwiches, soup and salad, followed by the most delicious apple pie. The banter between the workforce was great and showed what a close-knit team the Vaillancourts have put together.

There was plenty of time before the next show so I excused myself and returned to my little dressing room where I curled up on a sofa and fell asleep. When I woke I looked at my phone, 5.45, plenty of time to get ready and dressed for the 7pm start (I usually get into costume with thirty minutes to go). Just as I was getting up and stretching Judi appeared asking me to sign an ornament for an audience member, goodness they arrive early here…and then Gary called, ‘5 minutes Mr Dickens!’

Somewhere our communication had broken down and the show was actually due to begin at 6! Any thought of leisurely building up towards the show was gone and I got into costume as quickly as I could, as Gary stood on the stage regaling the audience with whatever he could think of to say, until he saw me appear in the doorway (about 15 minutes after the scheduled show time), at which point, he said to the crowd, ‘So how do we welcome Mr Dickens to the stage?’ and everyone joined in, ‘Herrrrrrrresssss Gerrrallllddddd’

This performance was not destined to be one of my easiest! As I started to walk through the audience, I discovered that there was no route to the stage (the folk sitting at tables understandably having pushed their chairs back to watch the currently non-existent show), I took one turn and then another but still no path opened up to me and I had to rely on the generosity of those at the front to shuffle out of my way, which wasn’t very Scrooge like.

Unsurprisingly and completely understandably the audience were a little ‘terse’ with me, during the opening salvos without the joyous atmosphere of the earlier show, but I didn’t panic or try too hard, I just kept on doing what I knew works, and slowly everything settled down (although I didn’t get a round of applause for my dancing skills this time!) By the time that I left the stage for the interval there was plenty of applause and the damage was repaired. But I was SO annoyed with myself.

The second act went very smoothly and the audience had relaxed appreciatively (thanks in part to a second round of glühwein) and I once again took a standing ovation which had perhaps seemed unlikely 90 minutes previously…..

Once again, we opened the floor to questions and once again Gary gave me the opportunity to plug the book, telling the tale of how I nearly drowned (ok, maybe a slight exaggeration, but it makes for a good story) when I visited the site of the crash.

It was soon time to finish and Gary called an end to proceedings and I took the final applause and left the stage, still mentally kicking myself for my earlier mistake.

When the audience had left, I returned to The Beechwood Hotel where Gary, Judi and Luke joined me. Although I have another day with the Vaillancourts, this was sort of a goodbye to Gary and Judi as they are due to fly off to Germany to tour the Christmas markets with a group. Unfortunately for them Covid is starting to rear its head in mainland Europe again, and a large percentage of their tour group has cancelled, but they have a commitment and are flying on Sunday. We toasted our friendsip and the success of the day, and then I went to my room and they returned home to pack.

Dawn Hagan Byers

Dawn Byers

When I came off stage at the end of the evening show any petty thoughts about my day’s performances became meaningless. When I switched on my phone, I received the desperately sad news that Dawn Byers had passed away quietly, surrounded by her family.

Dawn, Bob and Pam’s sister-in-law, was one of the strongest, most strong willed, most courageous people you could ever have hoped to meet. Married to Bob’s brother, Jeff, Dawn was diagnosed with cancer over two years ago and has fought the fight with her typical energy and spirit.

When I perform at Byers Choice the most difficult aspect of the event is getting almost 800 people into the room and seated, and on these occasions all of the family and a lot of the staff are called in to assist. Dawn was in her element during these times, as she sat folks as if it were a military operation, collecting them at the door and conducting them to empty chairs before they even knew they had been helped. Nobody ever quibbled about where they had been sat, or asked to change, for Dawn, although short of stature, had ruled and you didn’t answer back. But this strength and authority was delivered with a smile, a laugh and great good humour. I always enjoyed watching her in action!

Dawn tackled her cancer with the same tough, yet cheerful spirit and over the last two years has posted a series of completely inspiring video diaries – being honest enough to tell us when she was scared or weak, but always looking forward with great positivity to the next course of treatment, the next trial, the next stage of her life.

It is typical that in lieu of flowers, donations are being invited for The Kid’s Castle community playground In Doylestown PA – a cause that Dawn had supported and championed for a long time. Future generations will therefore benefit from her legacy which is exactly as it should be.

I send my deepest condolences to Jeff, Ashlyn, Jake and the rest of the Byers Family.

Escalate or Elevate

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Beechwood Hotel, Boston, British Airways, Charles Dickens, Disney, Ebenezer Scrooge, Hertz Car Rental, Hetahrow Airport, Nissan, Vaillancourt Folk Art

After two shows at opposite ends of Great Britain, and less than a day at home, Friday saw me resume my United States tour as I prepared to fly from London to Boston.

My alarm was set for 6am, but I woke an hour earlier than that remembering that I hadn’t packed or updated my SatNav unit. Of course, such a trifling matter was completely unimportant – I could pack it before I was due to leave at 8, and even if I didn’t, I would have my phone to assist me along the way, but in those dark, early hours, everything takes on levels of global importance.  As soon as I got up I found the small, and rather old, unit in a drawer and packed it into my case, the updating would have to be done at the airport.

Goodbyes are always difficult and this one was no different albeit wrapped up and foreshortened by the complications of getting the children dressed and out of the door ready for school. My taxi arrived on the stroke of 8 and soon I was on the way to Heathrow airport, as I had been 3 weeks previously – this was almost turning into a commute. 

The journey was flawless which was perhaps surprising during a Friday morning rush hour, and I checked in and cleared security at Heathrow Airport with very little delay, leaving me with over an hour to check the navigation unit. I logged on and sure enough the American map needed updating. Having purchased the upgrade and set the download to begin I discovered that apparently the USA has grown in the last 2 years for the new map was too large to fit onto the little device. I was given the option to select a portion of the country, and as this trip is going to focus entirely on the North East corridor, that suited me just fine.  As the updated content downloaded so my flight flashed up on the screens confirming that it would departing from gate B36, and I should make my way there.  The B gates at Heathrow Terminal 5 are separated from the main building, and to get to them you have to descend the longest escalator you have ever seen, board a shuttle train and then rise to ground level once more.  The train was extremely busy and as the crowd was disgorged, we all made for the escalator that would take us up again. There were lifts available, but everyone avoided them, presumably not wanting to be squashed into such a confined space in these Covid days, meaning that instead we were all squashed together on the escalator whilst the elevators remained empty, and therefore much safer: the apparently more risky alternative had proved itself to be the sensible option: to escalate or elevate?

At the gate I took a seat and waited for the boarding to begin, and sure enough soon a recorded female voice informed us that she invited Group 1 to board. A few expensive suits with their brief cases ambled through the priority lane but the bulk of the crowd remain unmoved, until the same voice came over the PA for a second time and told us that Group 6 was now being invited.  This was a surprise but a large bunch of us stood, gathered our bags and made for the gate, until we realised that the same voice recording was being used for the Chicago flight at the next gate, in fact the flight that I had taken a few weeks before, so we all sat sheepishly down again.

While I was preparing to board I had a message from Liz at home that will appeal to all who laugh at Mrs Cratchit’s panic-stricken antics with her Christmas pudding. Last year Liz made two puddings, one of which we steamed and ate as part of our Chritsmas lunch whilst the other remained sealed in the cool dark cupboard, where it had been ever since Liz mad made the mixture sometime in the autumn of 2020. Yesterday Liz decided to investigate to see if we would be able to eat it on Christmas day this year and to her dismay found that the entire thing had grown an outer fur of blue mould – ‘Supposin’…..supposin’…..’

Back at the gate Groups 2, 3, 4 and 5 were called and at last when ‘our’ group 6 was called I could take my rightful seat on the starboard side of the plane. 

On the last flight from Heathrow I calculated that we flew pretty well over the top of my home town, but I had been in the wrong side to get a view, so this time I had selected seat K instead of A to see if my hunch was correct.  Although there had been heavy rain and low cloud through the morning, by the time we took off the sky had cleared and I tracked our progress with interest:  There was Windsor Castle (easy to spot), the M4 and Reading. The Thames meandered around beneath us: was that the bridge at Marlowe that was the subject of a painting that used to hang in my parents’ bedroom? And then I could see the Wittenham Clumps, a favourite walking spot for us, the site of the old Didcot Power Station and then yes, there was Abingdon with the river running through it.  I could clearly see the all-weather sports stadium where my daughter goes for her football training, and the ring road around the town. There was the new housing development, and the roundabout at which the ring road intersects The Oxford Road. From there it was easy to see my own neighbourhood and I waved to Liz and the girls, as I had promised that I would.

We soared ever higher into the sky, leaving Oxfordshire behind us, and headed towards Boston. To while away the time, as the British Airways flight attendants diligently served me with a lunch of Lemon Thyme Chicken, I watched Bohemian Rhapsody again and as on the previous two occasions a tear came to my eye during the Live Aid sequence.  Following that I selected Joker, the extremely bleak prequel to the Batman franchise, and after that the joyful Disney film Moana – just to cheer me up a bit, although in fact it sent me to sleep for a while.  When I woke we had just under two hours to go and were making ‘landfall’ over the Gulf of St Lawrence. We began our long slow descent into Boston and as the cloud was very low by the time I could see the land below us we were skimming over the many little islands that lie just off the Massachusetts coast. A little bump, a skip and we were taxiing to our gate, ready to set foot on American soil once more.

For once the lines in the immigration hall were minimal and apart from trying to explain how I alone do 30 different characters in my show, the interview with the agent was not difficult and in no time I was walking towards the carousel to await the arrival of my large blue case, and in one of those rare moments of triumph as I arrived so did my case – perfect timing!

To collect a rental car at Boston airport you have to get on a shuttle bus so before I braved the cold windy and wet weather, I popped into a rest room, before dragging my cases to the curb side and waiting for a bus on route 33. Eventually once arrived and a large group piled in, loading our luggage onto the various racks, and just as we pulled away I discovered that I didn’t have my phone with me – in a horrible moment of clarity I realised that I had left it in the rest room, on a small shelf.

There was nothing to do than to stay on the bus and do the whole lap of the airport again, until I was back at Terminal E, with no great hope of being united with my phone. However the arrivals lounge was very empty, obviously with no other flights having landed since mine, and I hurried back to the rest room, looked at the metal shelf and had my faith in human nature restored, for there lay my phone.

I once more waited for bus 33 and once more was taken to the rental car center, where I was due to pick up a vehicle from Hertz. At the desk I asked for a four wheel drive car, as I will be using this vehicle throughout the trip and there maybe snow and ice along the way. After a little while of computer tapping, the Hertz agent said that she had an All Wheel Drive car, if that was ok? She said it rather apologetically as if she was truly sorry that she didn’t have a 4-wheel drive, only an all wheel drive one, and I confirmed that it would be fine, mentally chastising myself for the lapse in my conversational American language skills.

The paperwork completed I made my way into the garage to discover who would be my friend, protector and companion for the next three weeks and found a rather smart deep metallic red Nissan Rogue. I loaded my cases, set the satnav unit which came to life instantly and informed me that the journey to Worcester would take just under an hour. I sped through the subterranean road system of Boston and then passed Fenway Park on my left before leaving the city behind me. The drive seemed reassuringly familiar and certainly not as if it had been two years before I last made it. The newly downloaded map still requested that I turn the wrong way at the intersection where the hotel sat, and as I have done for so many years, I ignored it and drove to the car park of the Beechwood Hotel.

Having checked in I had a little time to unpack and hang my costumes so that the worst of the travelling wrinkles would be gone by Saturday’s performances, and then had a short rest before meeting up with Gary and Judi Vaillancourt for a ‘welcome home’ dinner. It was lovely to be with my old friends again, and once more it hardly seemed as if it had been two years since last we gathered.

Outside the windows snow began to fall, and it really seemed as if Christmas was coming back to life.

Two Rooms at the Inn

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Booking.com, Charles Dickens, Ebenezer Scrooge, Holiday Inn, Jacob Marley, Mr Fezziwig, Revelation St Mary

Small and simple the Sleeperz hotel in Newcastle may be, but it does put on an impressive breakfast! On Wednesday morning I went to the lobby at 7am and thoroughly enjoyed some muesli and fruit, followed by an impressive plate of scrambled eggs and bacon.

During breakfast I received an email confirming that my PCR Covid test, taken the morning before, had come back negative and so I was approved to fly. As I ate I completed the ‘VeryFLY’ app, uploading all of the relevant documents, which will allow me to board the BA flight to Boston.

My car was parked on the street outside the hotel and as the daily parking charges came into force at 8 I wanted to be away by then and, sure enough, it was at 7.55 that I started the engine and once more started a long drive.

I had turned on the radio to keep me company but the very first thing I heard was the presenter announcing that they were going to talk about the previous night’s ‘Great British Bake Off’ final, and if listeners didn’t know the results then they should turn off for the next five minutes. I didn’t know the result, and didn’t want to, so instead I listened to a Formula One podcast, which occupied my time for almost an hour. When the podcast was finished I returned to the radio channel where the presenter was saying ‘If you haven’t heard the result of the Bake Off, then maybe you should turn the volume down, because we are going to talk to the newly crowned champion.’ I drove on in silence for a while.

It was a beautiful morning to drive and my Satellite Navigation system took me all the way down the spine of England along the A1/M road, roughly following the route the Roman’s took as they swept through Britain sometime in the 40s AD. It was a more interesting route than the M1 motorway and I made good time. Eventually I could listen to the radio without fear of learning what had happened on television the previous night, and much of the coverage was given over to the disastrous speech that the British Prime Minster had made a few days earlier, during which he lost his place in his notes, and then made motor car noises, and asked his audience to put their hands up if they had been to Peppa Pig World. This would have been fun if it were an audience of 5 year olds but unfortunately he was addressing the Confederation of British Industry and the crowd was made up of the leading captains of industry.

The journey was just under 6 hours and I was heading for the town of Ashford, in Kent, and the beautiful Revelation Arts Centre. About half way there I suddenly realised that I had not received any email confirmation about my hotel booking at the Holiday Inn, which I had made a few weeks earlier, along with all the others for my winter tours in the UK. I became a little concerned and as soon as I could found a coffee shop to stop at (I needed a break from the driving anyway), and checked my ‘Booking.com’ app, Sure enough there was no booking reserved for Wednesday night, or indeed any of the other nights I had booked. I quickly re-booked a room in Ashford (fortunately there was plenty of room at the Inn), and got back onto the road.

I arrived at around 1pm and stopped at a large supermarket, where I had a bite of lunch, and then went to the hotel at 2 where I checked in. ‘Hello, Mr Dickens, I see you have two rooms booked with us!’ After a little investigation it was discovered that although my booking had gone through, it was not appearing on the app, and therefore no confirmations had been sent to me. The lady at the desk cancelled one booking and soon I was in my room and able to relax for a while, and before going to the theatre. Before I left I refreshed myself with a shower, and was delighted to discover that this particular shower had been designed by someone who actually stays in hotel rooms: The controls to start it were at the opposite end of the cubicle to the shower itself, meaning that I did not have to lean in and get a gush of cold water cascading over my arm as I switched it on. Thank you Holiday Inn!

Revelation Arts Centre is such a beautiful venue to perform at, based in St Mary’s Church it is now ten years old and features an impressive programme of music and drama. The only downside is the getting in of props and furniture, as you have to reverse the car up a very narrow alley, where there is only just enough room to open the side doors of the car. As I slowly guided the car between the iron railings of the graveyard on one side and the brick wall of a building on the other, I became aware of a gentleman standing behind the car, waiting for me to stop. I opened the window and waved him through (there was just enough room for him to squeeze by), but he resolutely stood his ground. I moved forward again, to give him more room, but no, he stood still. Eventually, when he could see I wasn’t going anywhere, he walked up to the car window, and I braced myself for a torrent of complaint and abuse, but it was a smiling cheery face that greeted me ‘Hello Gerald! great to see you again, Ive come to help you unload!’ It was Phil who takes photographs for the the theatre and who has supplied some memorable images of my shows over the years.

We got the car emptied and then I took it to a small parking space in the next street, which Phil had reserved for me with a couple of traffic cones. Back in the theatre the team was bustling around making preparations for the evening. Up on lighting board, high above me, was John, who always does a good job, and Debra the theatre manager was in the box office. I set the stage as I wanted it, and then worked with John for a while on the sound and lighting effects. Philip asked if there were any scenes that I particularly wanted pictures of, and I suggested that maybe Bob Cratchit carrying Tiny Tim on his shoulder would be nice to have. He made a mental note of my request and worked out how best to capture that moment.

When John had finished programming all of the cues he switched the stage lights back to their pre set state, that is to what would greet the audience as they arrived, and he had chosen a bright lavish, somewhat psychedelic , effect of random shapes in reds, oranges and yellows. The effect lit the great stone arch of the church and towered above the auditorium impressively, and as I looked an idea came into my mind. ‘John,’ I said, ‘you will probably hate me for ever, but could we use that same effect for the arrival of the Ghost of Christmas Present?’ In the book Dickens talks about the room being filled with greenery and this would be a great splash of colour to greet Scrooge as he opened the door. John very kindly programmed the effect into his lighting board, changing the reds and oranges to greens and yellows and we were done.

There was a long time before curtain up, so I set out my merchandise and chatted to the various staff and volunteers before I retreated to my dressing room and sat quietly alone until it was time to get into costume.

The audience began arriving at 7, and they sounded like an excited and enthusiastic bunch indeed. At 7.30 the front og house manager came to tell me that we were ready and I made my way into the foyer from where I would make my first entrance through the audience.

The performing space at Revelation is surprisingly intimate, considering it is set in a huge church with vaulted ceilings towering above, and it suits my shows so well. I have been performing there for a number of years and this was my fourth time with The Carol, meaning that many audience members were hardened fans! Oh, I had fun. Such fun! I was performing my two act version and therefore there were a few extra passages in the first act, which needed a little concentration to stop me being swept away with my familiar one act script, but soon I was well into the plot. Mr and Mrs Fezziwig danced enthusiastically to Sir Roger de Coverley, and Jacob Markley revelled in his extra long scene. Scrooge’s emotion at being shown the moment when his fiancé Belle broke off the engagement was clear to all and was compounded by the sight of her enjoying a happy and fulfilling family life. Poor Ebenezer, broken by the Ghost of Christmas Past, subsided to sleep and the first act came to an end. As I left the stage in darkness, so the applause rang out.

Soon it was time to go again and the second act was as successful, if not more so, than the first. And when I wished the audience ‘Happy Christmas’ the ovation was amazing. When I returned to the stage to bow, the audience stood and cheered and clapped. Amazing!

After catching my breath and putting on a mask, I went back to the merchandise table where a lot of people bought the book, which was nice! In the background the Revelation staff were busy turning a theatre back into a Church and the altar rail was being slotted back into place, and the Altar itself, draped in a gold-embroided altar cloth, was lifted onto the spot where a couple of hours before Marley’s face had appeared to Scrooge for the first time.

I changed and packed up all of my belongings, before retrieving my car, reversing back up the alley and loading up. I said goobye to John and the team and drove back to my hotel where I ate a chicken salad, before going to sleep.

I now have one day at home before I am once again on my travels, for on Friday I board a flight to Boston for the second half of my American adventures.

A New Stool for Tiny Tim

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens, Ebenezer Scrooge, Newcastle Cathedral, SleeprZ Hotels, The Literary and Philosophical Society, Tiny Tim, Uber Eats

The second half of my 2021 tour began on Tuesday, when Ebenezer Scrooge, Bob Cratchit, Tiny Tim and all the rest packed themselves into my car for the journey to Newcastle-Upon-Tyne, where I would be performing at the Literary and Philosophical Society in the city, more commonly known these days at the Lit and Phil.

However before I could drive North I had to make a brief stop in Oxford to get an official PCR Covid test so that I can gain my Fit to Fly Certificate which will allow me to return to the USA on Friday morning. This was a repeat of my previous appointment a few weeks ago and once again I entered the Courtyard by Marriot hotel in the centre of Oxford and rather furtively announced to the front desk that I was there to be tested. ‘Of course, sir, through the double doors and knock on the door of suite 1, then wait.’ It all seemed very covert, and I thought that when the door opened I should have some code phrase to say: ‘The tulips are surprisingly lacklustre this year.’, to which the voice on the other side of the door would reply, ‘unless you are in Spain, where they are glowing’. However any James Bond fantasy that I may be imagining was swept away when the door was opened and I was welcomed in with a friendly smile and a ‘Good morning. Mr Dickens?’

When the paperwork was filled in I was asked to administer my own test, which I hope I did effectively, and within 15 minutes I was saying ‘goodbye’ and hoping that I have not caught Covid in the week since I last took a test.

Now I could take the cast, as well as the props to Newcastle. The drive was very uneventful and there were no traffic delays on the M1 motorway, which is almost unheard of. I had plenty of time in hand and stopped once for a coffee and leg stretch and then again for lunch. It was around 3pm when I passed Anthony Gormley’s amazing ‘Angel of the North’ sculpture and then crossed the Tyne by one of the many Newcastle bridges, The Lit & Phil is in the very heart of the city and my hotel, SleeprZ is about one hundred yards down the street from it and I found a parking space half way between the two buildings and carefully reversed into it. My first job on arrival was to find a branch of my bank so that I could get some loose change as a float: my new book, Dickens and Staplehurst, A Biography of a Rail Crash (I’m not sure if I have mentioned it before, but it is available through my website, or Amazon), retails at £8.99 meaning that I would need change. I had also invested in a contactless card reader to help me with my after-show sales. Newcastle was definitely ready for Christmas with twinkling lights strung over the streets, department store windows seasonally decorated and. buskers singling carols with varying degrees of tunefulness. It was a lovely sight and the streets were bustling and full of energy.

I found the bank and having got a small bag of coins in various denominations, made my way back to the hotel to check in. The SleeperZ hotel is a very simple one, with compact rooms, but they are brilliantly designed and are bright and colourful. For my performances at the Lit & Phil it is perfect for my purposes. I lay on the bed and watched TV for a while until it was time to return to my car and onload the props. At The Lit & Phil building I was greeted by Kay who books all of my events at the venue. Even though I hadn’t been in the lovely old building for two years, thanks to last year’s lockdown, it seemed like I had only just been in the same room, setting up my furniture in readiness to perform. The large and somewhat heavy chair, carefully draped with the red cloth, the hat stand, the little table with the candlestick and the simple stool which starts the show as Bob Cratchit’s office stool and ends up as Tiny Tim’s shrine. This last piece of furniture was making its theatrical debut, as I had managed to leave my old stool at a venue somewhere in the summer and a search online found a new one which looks much more rustic and aged.

Having prepared the set, I then arranged my merchandise (the Staplehurst book, and my souvenir brochures that Ian and I produced a few years ago). I had designed and printed a price list proudly bearing the legend ‘Contaclass Payments Accepted’ but realised that it was still laying on my desk at home, so Kay kindly offered to print off another one (I had the relevant file on my laptop). It was 6 o’clock now and with a full hour before I was due to begin the show the audience were starting to arrive and take their seats, so I withdrew to a large meeting room that Kay had given me for a dressing room. My costumes had just been dry cleaned, and felt fresh and stiff as I got into them. I applied new velcro pads to the lapels, and made sure that the Victorian penny was in the waistcoat. I tied the cravat, using a large flat screen TV as a mirror, and set the pocket watch to the correct time. I was ready. With twenty minutes to go I ran through some lines, actually the extra pieces that make up the two act version of the show, although I wasn’t not performing that programme, I would be on the following evening so it was a good opportunity to remind me of the lines.

Shortly after 7 Kay knocked on the door and said that we were ready to go, so I wrapped my scarf around my neck, placed my top hat on my head and made for the room where I would be preforming. After a short introduction Kay clicked play on the CD player and my opening music filled the room (during the week I had emailed Kay to ask her if she wouldn’t mind operating the sound, and when she replied that she would do that I responded by asking would she rather just do the first cue or would she like to follow the script and do all 5 sound cues? I have never known a faster response to an email and almost before I had hit send, the reply came back ‘JUST ONE!’

The show went well, I was not on a stage but performing on the floor in close proximity to the audience, some of whom remained masked but most not. The small room meant that I didn’t have to project too much and it was nice to be able to be quiet and reflective especially in the Cratchit scenes. The new cast member played his role to perfection, by the way, and looked perfect with the wooden cane laid on it, creating an atmosphere of true pathos. An extra bonus was a deep resonance to the knocking as Scrooge arrives at his Nephew’s house on Christmas morning.

The applause at the end of the show was very generous and long, and after I had taken my bows I stayed on the stage to do a brief Q&A session which was fun, before putting on my mask and taking up station at the merchandise table where I sold plenty of books and the new contactless terminal performed well.

The audience drifted away into the night and I was able to get changed again. By the time I emerged from my meeting room all of my props and furniture had been carried to the front door, and as I emerged onto the streets the bells were ringing out from the nearby cathedral (Tuesday night is campanology practice night), it was a lovely way to be welcomed to the street and reminded me of Scrooge flinging his windows open on Christmas morning to be greeted by the joyous peal of bells: ‘He was checked in his transports by the churches ringing out the lustiest peals he had ever heard. Clash, clang, hammer; ding, dong, bell. Bell, dong, ding; hammer, clang, clash! Oh, glorious, glorious!’

I was back in my hotel just after 9 but the kitchens in the small lobby restaurant had already closed, so I ordered a pizza via Uber Eats, which was duly delivered and I wound down my evening laying on the bed watching a documentary about the super volcano under the Yellowstone National Park.

On Wednesday morning I have a 6 hour drive to the other end of the country to perform again and then it is time to make preparations for my return to America on Friday.

Homeward Bound

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Charlotte Airport, Kansas City Airport, London

On Monday morning it was time to head home and once again I was resigned to spending the best part of a day, and night, in a mask. The first job on waking was to complete all of the paperwork and make sure all of the correct forms were uploaded to the VeriFLY app (I wonder who it is that decides what to capitalise and what not to?). Yes I was vaccinated, Yes I had purchased an approved testing kit which I would use within two days of returning to the UK, No, I was not travelling from a Red Zone country. When at last everything was approved and uploaded I was ready to pack.

My costumes had aired (a polite way of saying dried out) and They went in to the cases (one in each) first. Then I stuffed my top hat with socks, so it wouldn’t bet crushed and wrapped the thick green woollen scarf, that Liz knitted for me a few years ago and which features in the show, around the outside of the hat. Everything else was carefully folded and packed until the only thing left was the wooden cane which just fits diagonally across the top of my large case. Kimberly arrived to pick me up at 10, and soon we were on the road to Kansas City Airport. There is something very reassuring about KCI, all of terminals are built to the same pattern, a large semi circular concourse, with check in and very limited retail on the outer side of the curve, and the gates on the inner. It is an old airport and frankly there is not enough room for the facilities that the modern traveller expects, but it IS KCI, there is no other airport like it, and that is a wonderful thing. However the area around the terminals is now a construction site and in two years’ time a big new sparkly terminal will be opened and KCI will be just like a hundred other airports. Kimberly and I said our goodbyes and I began the process of getting home. On entering the airport I was greeted by a notice on the automatic door: ‘DOOR CLOSED FOR THE SEASON’ What a strange thing! I made my way to check in and as has been the norm it was suggested that I check my carry-on roller case all the way to London, so I just had my leather shoulder bag to take with me, and felt rather sauve and wordly-wise. Security was busy, but I’d left myself plenty of time and was able to grab an early lunch before boarding my first flight, to Charlotte. In fact the flight was delayed by 30 minutes, which didn’t effect me but was causing great consternation among those with tight connections. I sympathised fully, for I have been in the same situation on many occasions and know that feeling of complete helplessness.

The flight into Charlotte was utterly beautiful, at one point the sun caught a river to create a silver slash across the landscape, and as we made our final approach the fall colours were stunning. You can always tell when you are flying into a Southern city for all of the schools are dominated by huge football fields, and usually not simply fields but stadia.

As we landed those passengers who had tight connections were panicking about getting to the correct concourse and gate in the few minutes available to them, and bemoaning that their bags would not make the flight. It seemed very unfair, therefore, that my connection for which I did not have to rush was at the very next gate.

Charlotte used to feature a great deal in my early touring years and it is an airport that I have always loved, the main concourse being like a giant conservatory complete with trees and white rocking chairs. Somehow there seems to be a slower pace in the airport which befits the South. In those early days there used to be a small booth that sold writing equipment and I would always pick up boxes of ink cartridges for my Waterman fountain pen (this in the days before Amazon Prime) there.

On the concourse there were advertisements for ‘Mini Suites’, which I have seen before, but this year the focus of the marketing had changed and tapped into to passengers’ current needs, for the sign proclaimed ‘Unmask and Relax in a private suite’

I had two hours to wait, so I bought myself a coffee and a pastry and sat in a rocking chair watching the world drift by.

With forty minutes to go before the flight I returned to Gate D5. There was quite a crowd and nearby a young girl was telling an older couple that this was to be her very first time on a plane. Was she nervous about flying, asked the couple. ‘Oh, a little,’ came the reply, ‘I keep thinking what might happen if things go wrong’ That was a cheery note for us all to board the plane to!

I got settled into my seat, and heard the same girl a row or two behind telling her neighbour in the next seat that she was excited to be going to England, at which he, a Brit, commenced telling her everything she should see in England, Scotland and Wales – he spoke in a very dull monotone voice, so maybe her first experience of flying was not destined to be an altogether positive one. On and on he went, his flow only interrupted by the safety announcement which she wanted to watch.

We took off on time and as the night was clear I could easily see Philadelphia as we flew over, and then New York City with Times Square glowing brightly and the black void of Central Park beyond it. Food was soon served and then the lights were turned down and I slept on and off through the night.

It was still dark as we made our approach to London. The wheels touched British soil, then bounced into the air again before settling down for good.

I have just over two weeks at home and then I will be flying to Boston to begin a whole new chapter of my adventures.

Why Kansas City?

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens, Dickens on the Strand, Mid Continent Public Library, The Dickens Holiday Fair

As the final ‘Bonus Blog’ of this part of tour I would like to address a question that came up at every venue during my time with the Mid Continent Public Library System, ‘Why do you come to the Kansas City area?’ The answer dates not only back to the very start of my USA touring in 1995 (although from one conversation yesterday I now think it may have even been 1994), but in fact even further back to 1974 when the first seeds for my attachment to Kansas City were sewn.

The story starts in Galveston Texas where members of the Galveston Historical Foundation, an organisation dedicated to the preservation and regeneration of the historic downtown area of the island city situated in the Gulf of Mexico a little south of Houston, decided to stage a Christmas festival to raise funds and awareness. Feeling that the festival should have a theme the Foundation decided to utilize the name of the main thoroughfare The Strand, which took its name from the street in London. So, a Christmas festival with an attachment to London led to the marketing team tapping into America’s love affair with Charles Dickens and A Christmas Carol, the festival would be Christened Dickens on the Strand, even though Charles never wrote about, or visited Texas. The temperatures in Galveston in December are warm and pleasant so it was decided to make ‘Dickens’ an open air event, with the city sealing off a large area to traffic. Vendors would be able to rent space and booths to hawk their wares, whilst a number of stages were erected so that there could be a constant programme of music and entertainment throughout the fair. Actors in exquisite Victorian costumes were booked to walk the streets and a Grand Parade would be held with Queen Victoria and Prince Albert at its head.

Visitors to the festival would have to pay an entrance fee to attend, but the board took an inspired decision to give a 50% discount for anyone wearing Victorian costume. Everyone likes a bargain, so it was assured that the streets would be filled with young urchins in caps and tatty waistcoats and pretty maidens in recycled bridesmaid’s dresses. Back in 1974 My father’s cousin and Charles’ great grand daughter Monica Dickens was living on Cape Cod and accepted an invitation to attend the inaugural festival thereby beginning the tradition of there being a member of the Dickens family at every event. After Monica the ebullient Cedric Dickens took over for a few years after which he passed the baton on to my father, David who attended with my mother at his side. During his tenure Dad presided over a great banquet during which he would regale the guests with readings from A Christmas Carol. My parents also took pride of place in the Grand Parade, siting in a horse drawn coach waving to the cheering crowds. Mum and dad loved their time at Galvaston and embraced the America zeal to do things on a giant scale with relish.

During his time at Galvaston Dad met with some folk either came from Kansas City or had relatives there, I don’t recall which, but who were keen to stage a similar event there. Of course the December weather in Missouri is not quite as reliable as that on the Gulf coast, so the new event would be held indoors, with the large downtown Convention Center being picked as s suitable venue. To ensure a suitably Victorian atmosphere the Missouri Rep theatre company where brought on board to build huge sets representing London street scenes, as well as costumes for Dickensian characters. Dad was invited to be a consultant on all things Dickensian and through himself into the project. The Dickens Holiday Fair launched in 1993 and Mum and Dad were there, at the centre of everything, signing, reading, parading.

In that same winter, back in England, I was making my first steps into the world of performing the works of Charles Dickens as I gave a single reading to celebrate the 150th anniversary of the publication of A Christmas Carol. I so enjoyed the project and received praise for it, that I looked at reprising the event the following year. My father was excited and proud that I was beginning to show some interest in our illustrious forbear and kept a close eye on my progress. Little did I know that he had an ulterior motive, for he and my mother had decided that their international travelling days were over and he was keen to promote my new show to both festivals. During the summer one of the senior board members from Gaveston was visiting England and Dad invited her to lunch. When the date was fixed he asked if I could arrange a performance of my show somewhere as a sort of audition. I found a venue, a private room above a pub, and a goodly crowd attended. I obviously did a decent job for I was invited to attend the next Galvaston Festival and on the back of that The Holiday Fair in KC also came on board. Details were sorted out by a good friend of mine, Paul Standen, who acted as manager to this fledgling performer, and soon I was boarding an American Airlines flight to Houston.

As this is not a story of Galveston I will simply say that I thoroughly enjoyed that festival and when it was all over I flew from Houston to Kansas City for the second leg of my adventure. Although I arrived on Sunday the Holiday Fair was not due to to open until the following Friday meaning that I had four unfilled days. There was a certain amount of media work to do but the organisers of the Holiday Fair rather wanted me out in the community spreading the word, rather than lounging in a hotel suite doing nothing, so they contacted the board of the Mid Continent Public Library and suggested that I make appearances in a couple of branches. I could do a reading as well as talking about the weekend’s event and try to encourage guests to visit.

My first evening’s commitment was at Raytown Library and I remember it vividly for there was an awful ice storm that night. I had never seen anything like that before and across the city fires were breaking out as power cables came down under the weight of ice. I seem to remember that we did a bit of Q&A on that occasion too and the same question that inspired this blog post was asked – ‘why did you come to Raytown? I answered: ‘The weather!’ The marketing team at Mid Continent had done a good job and there was a reporter and photographer at the library and the next Morning at breakfast my phot dominated the front page of the Kansas City Star’s arts section.

And that is how I came to perform in the Kansas City area and specifically for MCPL. Sadly the Holiday Fair didn’t survive and folded a year or two later, but I still kept coming back to Missouri and Mid Continent Public Library service is now my longest running venue.

I wrote the first half of this post at KC airport and then put the laptop away for my flight and as we soared towards our cruising altitude we passed over the top of the Convention Center, with its distinctive four towers, where it all began for me.

Thank You Missouri

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens, Colbern Road, Ebenezer Scrooge, Mid Continent Public Library

Sunday 14 November was to be my final day of the the first leg of my 2021 tour, and I would be performing a Christmas Carol twice more. Kimberly was due to pick me up at 11.45, so I had the morning to myself. Slowly my body clock was beginning to catch up with reality (just in time to be completely confused again), and instead or waking at 3, I slept through to 4.45 which I know sounds ridiculously early (it is), but it marked some kind of progress! Having written and then breakfasted I returned to my room ready to enjoy a full morning of Grand Prix racing! I had discovered that not only would ESPN be showing the Brazilian Grand Prix live, but also the full British Sky F1 pre race build-up, which would start at 9. I made sure that I had fresh shirts for the two shows and that my second costume (the first was still in Kimberly’s car along with my hat and cane), was complete and ready. There would be no chance to return to the hotel between shows so I needed to have everything prepared for the whole day.

Preparations completed, I switched on the TV and became immersed in the murky world of Formula 1 politics – there had been lots of controversy over the weekend and various penalties had been meted out, not least to Lewis Hamilton, the British champion, who due to a technical infringement had been relegated to the back of the field for the ‘Sprint Race’ (held on Saturday to determine the starting grid for the main race), and even though he had fought through the field to finish 5th in that encounter, he had another penalty which took him back to 10th on the grid, so it had been a difficult weekend for him so far. There was a real sense of anticipation from Brazil which was infectious.

As race time approached I made another coffee and ate a muffin that I had brought up from the breakfast buffet. For 45 minutes I was able to relish what seemed to be one of the classic races as Hamilton surged through the field to be close behind the leader, his championship rival Max Verstappen. The race was just building towards a very exciting second half when the phone rang and the cheery girl on the front desk told me that ‘your ride is waiting’! Sigh, but work called.

We were returning to the Midwest Genealogy Center again, so there were to be no surprises in store, and as we arrived everything was being readied: Sara and her team were getting the stage ready and Lindsey was practising the sound cues in the technical booth. Philip and Ruby were setting up their i-phone cameras ready to broadcast my show to those who wanted to follow the live stream, rather than being in a live audience and in general there was a sense of concentrated activity in the room. Having hung my costume in the green room, I draped the red shawl (which represents Scrooge’s blanket, as well as becoming a representation of Tiny Tim), over the chair and once again hid the mice in the foliage of the Christmas tree which decorated the set. Lindsey had a couple of questions about the sound effects for A Christmas Carol, so we discussed those and also developed a system to ensure that the microphone was on, to avoid a repetition of the previous day’s mistake.

When all of the preparations were complete Kimberly drove me to the same petrol station that we had visited the day before where we bought a sandwich, fruit and a protein bar (finding one without chocolate was very difficult) and returned to the green room to eat our lunch, as the audience started to arrive. The Dickens carollers were back and doing an amazing job entertaining the crowd with a great zeal and energy which one more was bringing lots of applause and appreciation. At 1.30, with 30 minutes to go, Kimberly left to help the rest of the team and I started to get into costume. At 1.45 I made all of my final checks, shoes tied with double bows to make sure that the laces didn’t unravel with all of the movement, genuine Victorian penny piece in my waistcoat pocket, cravat carefully tied, pocket watch set to the correct time, and I was ready to go.

At 1.55 I switched the mic on and slipped out of the green room and stood at a spot where I could make eye contact with Lindsey, she checked on the sound board that the mic was on and gave me a thumbs up. At 2 Sara began the introductions, encouraging everyone to switch off their phones, and the show began. Once more it felt a very good performance, although annoyingly an electronic beep kept going off – at first I thought it was someone’s phone receiving messages, but as the show went on I began to think that it must be something in the room, for no one would repeatedly let their phone interrupt a show….would they? The most annoying moment was as Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come visited Cratchit’s house and just as I was saying ‘It was quiet. Very quiet’, sur enough the beep beeped. Annoying, but it didn’t disrupt the flow of the story and when I got to the end and took my bows the audience were standing and cheering. The show is in a good place this year, I have kept the pace up and not allowed myself to drift back to the ponderous, overly dramatic performances of previous years in which I tried to give every line drama and gravitas which just led to a serious of long pauses which fragmented the natural rhythm of the narrative.

Back on stage for the Question and answer sessions, and the first came from a young audience member Levi, aged 7, who asked did I prefer being an actor or an author? – A great question which gave me yet another opportunity to shamelessly advertise my new book! The answer though is of course being an actor. The session went on with plenty of good questions, including how did I come up with all of the different voices for the show which led to a sort of masterclass session running through not only the voices but also some of the theatrical ‘tricks’ I use to differentiate characters (citing the conversation between Scrooge and the charity collector on Christmas morning, in which Scrooge holds the hat and cane in one hand and the collector holds them in separate hands – a simple device to create two characters on the same stage together).

Eventually the session came to an end, and having taken another bow I left to change once more as the audience left. When I was back in 21st century garb and my costume was on its hanger, I returned to the room to say good bye and to thank Lindsey, Philip and Ruby for their help through the afternoon.

It was 4pm and Kimberly and I set off for the next venue, the Colbern Road branch of MCPL. As we walked to the car all of the furniture from the set was being loaded onto a large truck ready to take it on to Colbern Road. I have performed there before, but since my last visit the old branch had been flattened and a new, modern, shiny, futuristic steel and glass structure had risen in its place. It made for an impressive sight as we turned off the road and into the parking lot.

Inside was just as impressive, presenting an airy open spacious feel to the lucky library goers who have this in their community. We met with the branch manager, Seth, who showed me around: the room where I was to perform was already laid out with a temporary stage, with a black screen behind, at one side. Having performed in larger spaces over the last two days, this was a return to an old school style of Library performance, under the regular room lighting meaning I would be able to see every expression on everyone’s face throughout the show.

Having checked out the space Seth showed me an area of the library tucked away where I could lay and rest for an hour or so, before I needed to start preparing again, and before laying on couch I glanced at the shelves and what was there? An audiobook of A Christmas Carol recorded by yours truly, featuring a very young and slim image of me.

The rest was very welcome and I lay on the couch until 6, when it was time to go and do a sound check. Back in the room I found Chris, a sound engineer, testing microphones. He had set up two very large speakers (perhaps larger than the space truly warranted), at the front of the stage. I introduced myself and we did a good sound check during which he walked to all corners of the room making adjustments on an i-pad until he was quite satisfied.

Phil and Ruby were back to stream this performance too but Phil was having trouble connecting to a wifi network, without which the streaming would be impossible to achieve. Eventually a system was cobbled together using a personal cell phone as a hotspot and connection was complete. It had been a tense atmosphere in the room and we had to delay letting the audience in until everything was sorted, but that didn’t matter for the good old Dickens Carollers were doing the stuff in the main library.

I retreated to my dressing room (actually an electrical plant room and store room, but quite spacious enough for me to change and relax in) and got into costume. The carollers were now in the ‘theatre’ and I knew their set well enough by this time to know when it was almost show time, I didn’t need to look at my watch.

At 7 they took their much deserved applause, I slipped into the room, Seth stood on the stage and introduced me and the show began.

Seth returned to the stage to host the Q&A and the first question came from Colin in Lincoln. Now, this was an important question, for Colin has been a regular attendee to my shows along with his dad Doug, but this year Colin had suffered a serious illness while at college in Lincoln, Nebraska and was unable to return home to join us (Doug had been at shows the day before and generously given me a gift of banana bread and his favourite blend of coffee!) Colin’s question therefore was his chance to be a part of the event and he was watching the live stream from Lincoln (I was so relieved that Phil had managed to establish the connection therefore.)

The Q&A carried on, with thoughtful questions such as ‘what relevance does A Christmas Carol still have today’ and ‘what lesson would you like us to take away from your performance?’ I was asked if I had ever tried Kansas City barbeque, as my blog mentions all of the places that I eat along the way and BBQ didn’t seem to feature. I am ashamed to admit it in the heart of the best barbeque city in America, but I am not a great fan – I was taken to plenty of restaurants when I used to stay in the heart of downtown Kansas City in my early years, but maybe my delicate British constitution is not fully prepared!

And so my final appearance in Missouri this year wound down to a close, and I returned to my store room to change once more. I thanked all of the library staff and Chris the sound engineer who had done a superb job with all of the effects, and made sure I had everything with me before leaving the magnificent new library at Colbern Road.

Kimberly and I found a restaurant still open on the way home, although we seemed to be the only diners, and then continued the journey back to The Hampton Inn where we arranged to meet at 10 the next morning to get me to the airport in plenty of time to board the first part of my homeward journey,

In my room I hung all of my costumes up on the shower rail in the bathroom, so that they could air well before being packed away in a suitcase, and then it was time to sleep.

Thank you Missouri for looking after me so well.