Broad Street

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Broad Street United Methodist Church, Burlington, Charles Dickens, Doctor Marigold, Ebenezer Scrooge, The Signalman

I woke up on Thursday morning with the happy knowledge that I didn’t have to be anywhere until 11.30, and that my venue, the Broad Street United Methodist Church, was only 10 minutes away, so I had plenty of time to drift into the day gently.

I had hung my costumes the night before, but I needed to retrieve my top hat, scarf and three white shirts from my large suitcase, and I unpacked them as gently as I could, so that I would be able to re-insert them with as little disruption to the rest of my packing as possible. The result of my efforts was a perfect top-hat-shaped void in my case. I made sure that I had all that I would need for two shows packed in my roller bag, or hung on hangers, and then went to breakfast.

In the small restaurant area next to the front desk of the hotel a buffet was laid out, and as I began to pile some fruit onto cereal, I heard the voice of who I assumed to be the hotel manager, talking to one of his staff: ‘Hey, would like to see a Charles Dickens show tonight? I have tickets here for the hotel staff – Charles Dickens, A Christmas Caro, you want to go?’ I didn’t hear the reply, but it was obviously in the negative, for the manager’s voice continued, ‘Ha! I shall take that as a no then – Bah! Humbug to you!’ I couldn’t help smiling, at which point the manager noticed me, ‘Wow, it’s him! Are you Mr Dickens? Hey great to see you!’ and he strode towards me, hand outstretched. He said that Laura, who runs the show in Burlington, had come to the hotel yesterday to make sure that all of the arrangements were in place and had offered free tickets to any hotel employee who wished to go. We spoke for a while and he asked me about the tour and where home was, mentioning that he had spent time in Surrey and loved our scenery and history.

After breakfast I went back to my room, and relaxed for a while, wrote some emails, and did a little sewing. A button had come off one of my waistcoats in Omaha, and this was the perfect opportunity to test my needlework skills. I have to say, I think that one of the greatest inventions by the human race is that little foil gadget with the thin wire loop that enables a fat-fingered person like me to effortlessly thread a needle!

With my repairs complete it was almost time to leave, for I wanted to stop at Wal-Mart on the way to buy a new USB stick for my sound effects, not because I had mislaid mine (although you would be justified in having come to that conclusion, knowing my track record), but because more and more venues were struggling to use a traditional USB, but had the smaller micro ports, meaning that on a few occasions the tech teams at various shows have been scrabbling around for adapters, or old laptops. In Walmart I found a double-ended USB stick with both traditional and micro heads to it, which seemed to solve my problem.

I continued the short drive and arrived at the Church on the stroke of 11.30. There was an air of familiarity about the arrival, in that I was here as recently as September when I performed The Signalman and Doctor Marigold, although on that occasion I had pulled up in the beautiful midnight blue Mustang.

I unloaded my costumes and after a bit of door knocking was admitted to the beautiful old building that was built in Dickens’s time, and one that has welcomed me on so many occasions that I feel completely relaxed and at home there. Having put my red cloth onto the stage, I went to the small office, where Laura and other volunteers were putting tickets into envelopes for collection, and where I could get out my laptop and transfer the sound cues onto the new USB. It was fun being part of the team, and just chatting as we worked.

The first show was due to start at 1, and audience members at Burlington have a habit of arriving very early, so Laura and I went up into the balcony to go through the various sound effects that she would be operating from her laptop. Neither of us are experts in the world of sound technology, but between us we managed to get the correct cables attached to the correct ports and there was music in the air – music followed by doleful bells tolling. I ran through the script telling Laura how each effect should be played and when they should be faded, and when she was happy with the procedure, so we did a microphone test and got the levels just right. It is an old building, with old electrics and wiring, and there is inevitably a bit of popping and banging, but on the whole it all works very well.

There was only one thing left to do, and that was to carry the large armchair for my set from the small lounge beneath the sanctuary, up a narrow and steep staircase and onto the stage, which we achieved without injury and accident.

Sure enough the audience were beginning to arrive now, so I retreated to my dressing room, the Sunday school classroom, and began to prepare. The room is not only used for classes but also as a large games room too, and prominent in it is a pool table. Having got into costume, I wiled away a few minutes by playing a few shots. I thought that this moment should be captured, so spent more time carefully arranging my camera on its self-timer mode, to capture me making a break.

As 1 o’clock came closer I left the table, wrapped my scarf around my neck, made all of the final checks and went to the back of the sanctuary ready to start. The audience was not a huge one, but were all grouped together at the front, rather being spread out throughout the spacious area. Laura went onto the stage and began her introduction my making a sincere apology to a lady who had called to book tickets. The call had come at a particularly busy time, and the area code was a Californian one, and Laura supposed that this was going to an unsolicited sales call. When she picked up the phone the voice on the other end said, ‘Oh hi, I didn’t expect you to answer….’, to which Laura impatiently said ‘OK, so why did you call then,’ and hung up! Apology made she went on to introduce me and asked the audience how many people had not seen my show before, and an amazing 2/3 of the audience raised their hands! It is always interesting performing for people who do not know the style of the event, and sometimes it can take a while for people to relax into it, so this would be an interesting afternoon.

It is such a lovely church to perform in, so warm and welcoming, and the ‘stage’ gives me lots of options to use different levels and areas. The auditorium could hold over 500 people and yet it retains a very intimate and cosy feel. Sure enough the newbies in the audience took a little while to warm up, but soon they were laughing and gasping and sobbing along with the seasoned regulars, of whom there were many. When I finished, they all stood and applauded and shouted, and I took my bows gratefully.

After I had left the stage I quickly walked down the steep staircase to the lounge beneath, made my way to another staircase and clambered up (I was going to ascended, but that term may be a trifle presumptuous in a church) another staircase to the Kindergarten classroom, where I changed into a fresh costume for the meet and greet session.

One rather sad thing has occurred over the recent days, and that is my lovely pocket watch has stopped working. After an event last week, I don’t recall which, I noticed that the minute hand had come off, so I took the glass from the face and carefully clicked it back on to the spindle, but unfortunately the mechanism must have taken a knock, or a spring had broken, or something, for the winder would not wind and so the hands remained stationary. I bought the watch a few years ago in Plymouth Massachusetts over a Thanksgiving weekend, and it has been a wonderful companion to me ever since. Although it is still a perfectly good prop, I miss being to actually tell the time with it, for when I am in costume and have no modern wristwatch or phone to consult, it is my only way of knowing when I should be somewhere. I hope that I can get it repaired when I return to England next week.

When I was freshened up I went into the large room where tables were laid out and audience members were eating cookies and cakes, drinking tea and enjoying good fellowship. I took my seat at the signing table and soon there was a line of people, some of whom wanted books signed, some to pose for pictures but the majority just to talk about the show and my tour. It is always a very relaxed session, as people tend to remain at their table until they notice I am not occupied, and then come to chat. In the meantime, I had a cup of tea and my own plate of goodies to keep me happy.

It is a long-held tradition at Burlington that between shows all of the volunteers go for dinner at a local Italian restaurant, and although the group was smaller this year, still we all had an enjoyable time, chatting and laughing and comparing stories.

Back at the church I retired to my classroom, where I stretched out on a sofa, having taken my shoes off first of course, and had a short nap, which was very welcome. When I rose again, I spent some time trying to find a watchmaker in England who could care for my injured timepiece, and then began to get into costume once more. Marcia, the member of the team who brings me tea in a china cup, and Rich Tea Biscuits, knocked on the door and delivered my pre-show tray, which included a bowl of fresh fruit and a glass of iced water.

The evening show began at 7pm, and the routine was as before, I stood at the back of the hall ready to make my entrance, while Laura made her introductory remarks. Again, the show went extremely well, although some of the sound effects didn’t come across as clearly as usual, and the volume didn’t seem to be consistent. As I continued with the script I wondered if I had downloaded the wrong files onto the new USB, and made a mental note to check them when I could – it is amazing what goes through your mind when you are in the middle of a scene.

The evening show was as enthusiastically received as the afternoon one had been, and the reception was as fun with lots of people wanting to chat and ask questions, most particularly an ex-journalist who was very kind, and somewhat apologetic for her constant queries, but still followed each and every one through with a tenacity honed through many years on the news desks.

My time with the good folk of The Broad Street United Methodist Church was coming to a close, and I changed back into my regular clothes, made sure that I had collected and packed everything, and then said goodbye to me dear friends. I drove back to the hotel and hung my costumes up to air, ready to be packed into my little roller case again to journey to the final venue of this leg of the tour – Minneapolis.

Ding Dong

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Carry On Films, Charles Dickens, Ding Dong!, Douglas County Historical Society, Ebenezer Scrooge, Harry Potter, Leslie Phillips, Omaha, St Celia's Cathedral School, The Sorting Hat, WEstside High School

Tuesday marked my final day in Omaha, with two more performances of A Christmas Carol, this time in schools. On waking up I saw the news that the English actor Leslie Phillips had died, at the age of 98, and this was a sad moment for me. Many people who follow this blog may never have heard of him (although he was the voice of the sorting hat in the Harry Potter films), but Phillips does have a role in my performance of A Christmas Carol, He found great popularity in the 1960’s as a smooth-talking philanderer, who would sidle up to a lady, purring ‘Hellloooo’, or ‘Ding Dong!’ Obviously, such behaviour is rightly seen as unacceptable today, but when I was creating my performance, it seemed natural to use Phillips’ demeanor as a basis for the flirtatious Topper. So, on Tuesday I decided to honour Leslie Phillips by allowing Topper to say ‘Ding Dong’ as well!

Having had breakfast, I changed into costume and went to the lobby where Frank was waiting for me having loaded up all of the signed books which the hotel had stored for us. The first venue was the St Cecilia Cathedral School, a Catholic Elementary school, and as Frank and I arrived we met Kathy who reunited me with my cane! It had been quite an adventure to get it back to Omaha, but Cameo from Immanuel had assisted. I was so very pleased to have it back.

The morning show was to be for children in grades 5-8, and would be held in the school gymnasium, which filled me with a slight sense of dread following a rather disastrous school gymnasium performance in Omaha a few years ago. As we walked in, I saw that the hall had a stage, which was a relief, and everyone was so keen to help. From the stage I looked out into the hall and discovered that I would have the back of a Perspex basketball backboard in my eyeline – it looked like a giant version of those little Perspex teleprompters that politicians use to make their speeches. Fortunately, the hoop/backboard combination could be raised, giving me a clear view of the hall, and in no time a member of staff arrived with the correct key to send the sports equipment up to the ceiling.

As I made sure that the furniture was in the right place on the stage Julia Pick, the principal, introduced herself and thanked me profusely for coming to the school; there was a real sense of excitement and anticipation from all of the staff. I was also introduced to Mattia who would be assisting with the sound effects (he didn’t know that he would be assisting with sound effects but took to the challenge with great professionalism).

The show was to start at 9, and at 8.30 a physical education lesson was held in the hall, so we closed the main stage curtains and carried on our preparations unseen by the prospective audience.

As the start time came closer Mattia opened the curtains and there were the children, sat cross-legged on the floor, and as this seemed to be a very democratic sort of school none of the adults had chairs either! Mattia returned to his laptop in the wings and following an introduction he started the opening sound effect and I walked on to the stage to begin.

It was a fascinating production, for the audience didn’t audibly react at all, but as time went on it became more and more apparent that they were listening and concentrating and engaging. I edited the script a little, taking out some passages that I didn’t think were necessary for such an age group, although I did keep Topper in, and let him say ‘Ding Dong’, which may not be the type of behaviour that St Celia’s might encourage. At the end of the show there was lots of applause, and when Kathy asked if any of the students had questions lots of hands went straight up. One boy asked if I had thought of changing sets and costumes in my show, others asked me what my favourite part was, and another wanted to know if it had been a mistake that my top hat had fallen on the floor when I had thrown it up into the air – all good questions. With the Q&A over the staff suggested that we all gathered around the stage for a photograph, and as we took our positions one girl, who maybe had been too shy to ask in front of the rest of the school, quietly asked, ‘where the words you used all from the original book?’, which was superb question and observation The picture was taken, and it is a wonderful souvenir of a very special morning

It was only 10.30 when we left the hall, and elsewhere the students were being presented with their copies of A Christmas Carol, apparently, so Kathy told me later, their delight in discovering that I had autographed them all was beautiful to see. As it was early, I had plenty time to return to the hotel before my afternoon show. I changed back into regular clothes and went to the grocery store in the same block to buy some soup and crackers for lunch, which I heated up on the little kitchen hob in my room (I could have microwaved it, but it felt more like ‘real’ cooking to heat it in a pan).

Frank was due to collect me at 12.30, so I ate early and then got back into costume. Our afternoon show was at Westside High School, and we were greeted in the large auditorium by Jeremy Stoll, whose theatre class would be the core of my audience. Apparently the entire school had been invited, and the auditorium was certainly large enough to hold plenty of them, but I secretly hoped that it would just be the drama kids – I have found in the past the High School students who have been told to attend a show are generally bored, restless and some tend to show off to their peers, whereas theatre students get fascinated with the show, appreciating the characterisations and transitions.

At 1.30 Jeremy stood up to introduce me and sure enough it was just the theatre class. I gave the show everything, really concentrating on the mechanics, making sure that it was as technically good as I could make it. As the show continued so the students began to get interested and the response became more vocal and engaged, I am delighted to report that there was a loud hoot of laughter when Topper delivered his tribute ‘Ding Dong’ line.

The final third of the show was very rewarding, as the majority of the audience were completely hooked (a couple of students still lay sprawled across their chairs, probably asleep), and when I got to the final line and left the stage the response was as enthusiastic and vocal as you might expect from a lively bunch of theatrical teenagers. I came back to the stage and as we had plenty of time before the end of day bell sounded, we settled into a long question and answer session, which naturally concentrated on the technique of my show, the characterisations, the subject of theatre, how I cope with nerves, and other subjects relating to being an actor. Jeremy, the teacher, occasionally chimed in with a question also, and it was a very enjoyable session which became more of a class than anything else. I don’t know if my words helped or inspired, but it was great fun to talk to the class. Eventually the siren announcing the end of the day sounded and whilst some of the students left, there were quite a few who stayed to continue the conversation for a little while longer.

As we chatted, Kathy and Frank were packing up the furniture and props and soon it was time to leave. I said goodbye to my new friends, and we made our way to the car park where I said farewell to Kathy for another year – it had been a fun visit to Omaha, and all of the shows had been successful and enjoyable. Frank and I walked over to his truck, commenting on the quality of cars that students seem to drive these days (a very high-end Tesla purred by, with two of the theatre class waving to us from the driver’s and passenger’s seats). The drive back to the hotel was not a long one, and soon I was shaking hands with Frank, thanking him for all of his time and good company, and then I collected all of my belongings and went up to my room.

As I changed out of my costume, I discovered that far from leaving anything at the venues today, I had actually come away with something, for I still had the microphone clipped to my waistcoat! I will have to leave it at the hotel’s front desk and let Kathy know, so that it can be returned to Westside.

It was still early in the afternoon, so I relaxed in my room, watching some TV and catching up with some correspondence. I also booked a table for a celebratory ‘end-of-Omaha- dinner’ at a nearby restaurant, which, when the time came, was absolutely delicious.

So now it is time to move on once more, to the East coast very briefly before finishing up this first leg of the tour in Minneapolis. It has been a successful opening week, the scratchy voice from those early shows in Kansas City have gone, and the performance itself seems to be in a good place.

Wednesday will be a day off, although filled with travel, so I can rest my voice and prepare for the days ahead.

Opening Salvos

Tags

A Child's Journey With Dickens, A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens, Hilton Garden Inn, Mid Continent Public Library, Office Max

The first performance day of the tour inevitably started in darkness as my brain, still on UK time, decided it was time to wake, even though the clock by my bedside stated that it was only 1am. I managed to return to sleep briefly, only to repeat the exercise at 3-O-something, and again at 4ish. I finally gave in and made for the coffee maker at around 5.

I mooched around and wrote my blog post and completed the day’s Wordle challenge in 4 rows (yes, I have been caught in the net of the 5-letter word game, as have so many others), before making my way to the lobby for breakfast, which had a wonderful air of familiarity about it – the porridge (complete with a sprinkle of brown sugar and some cranberries) was thick and delicious, and the waffles were up to their usual standard.

My first show wasn’t until 2pm, so I had the morning to myself, most of which was given over to rehearsing A Child’s Journey With Dickens. I paced about my room, going through the lines over and over again. It was strange going through the entire script again, having carefully learned what not to say, what to leave out, back in September when I performed it at Old Sturbridge Village with Jennifer Emerson taking the role of Kate Douglas Wiggin. At that time, she had stood at a lectern giving Kate’s speech, whilst I had sat at a small writing desk chipping in occasionally with letters written by Charles Dickens himself – the split stage idea had worked well, until the two characters came together on a bench which represented the railroad car in which they actually met. With just me doing the show, I had to find ways of transitioning from Kate to Charles and back again, so I spent much of my rehearsal time going over those moves.

I also decided that it would be a nice idea to give Kate a sheaf of papers to hold, as if she were clutching the text of her speech (originally given in New York City in 1912), and for Dickens’s table to strewn with notepaper as he fired off his correspondence. Across the parking lot from the hotel is an Office Max store, and I planned to drive over there and purchase some suitable paper. Wait, drive? I could see the store! I abandoned my plan and set out to walk the great distance, which meant crossing a road which was not designed to be crossed, as is so often the way in America. I waited patiently until a suitable gap in the traffic appeared and made my move, remembering to look the ‘wrong’ way for cars and trucks.

Once in the store I found some nice ivory-coloured paper, which wouldn’t look too garishly modern on stage, made my purchase and returned to the hotel.

I was due to be picked up to be driven to the first venue at 12.15, so I made sure that I had all of the costumes and props that I needed and then headed down to the lobby to wait. I mentioned in yesterday’s post that there had been some changes at The Mid-Continent Public Library this year, and that my visit would be a very different one to that of years past, but actually things had a very familiar feel to them as Kimberly Howard, my long-time colleague and good friend pulled up outside the hotel to collect me. I first met Kimberly in, I think 1995 when she was a branch librarian at the Blue Springs branch of the library service, and I performed there during my very first tour. Over the years she rose through the ranks of MCPL to head up the programming side of the operation and thus became the person who booked and administered my visits. It was Kimberly who transported me all around the Kansas City region, who took me to lunch and dinner, who oversaw the growth of my audience numbers into the much larger auditoria that I now perform in here. But this year Kimberly took the decision to retire and move on, although she put in a special request to her former employers, asking if she could still be my chauffeur! So, although at an administrative level it was all change this year, for me the day had a wonderful feeling of reassurance about it.

We drove for about 45 minutes to the Midwest Genealogy Center, where my first performance would be held. It is a venue I have performed at in the past and in no time I was on the stage moving furniture around and getting things set just as I wanted them. In charge of all things technical was Sara Peterson-Davis, which was good news for we have battled recalcitrant microphones together in the past, so I knew I was in good hands. The whole of my visit this year is being coordinated by Beth Loecke, who welcomed me and made sure I had everything I needed. The stage already had a lectern and a large bench in place, but we still needed a small writing table for Charles to use, and after a bit of searching Beth mentioned that the props for A Christmas Carol had been delivered during the day and that there was a wooden table among them, and so my set was complete.

Soon the time for the audience to be let in arrived and I retreated to my dressing room until curtain up.

I had slightly changed my introductory remarks this year, bringing them a little more up to date, and had included the great revelation that I now perform regularly at ‘Highclere Castle, the setting for Downton Abbey’. I thought that this would go down well with an American audience, and so it proved as I could hear a gasp and murmur when those words were read.

Soon I was on stage and launching into the script, which flowed very well, the movements from stage right to left and back were OK, especially the one following Kate’s line ‘I prayed fervently that…the pangs of seasickness may be spared so precious a personage’, after which I reeled and stumbled across the stage, grabbing the bench and chair for support, as if I were on the deck of a heaving and pitching steamer.

There was one rather extraordinary error in my show, which hadn’t showed itself in rehearsals, and that was a matter of accent: I give Kate’s lines in a rather flawed New England accent, making sure that the ‘ah’ sounds such as in barn and farm were elongated into bahn and fahm, and that was ok, but the problem came after I had delivered George Dolby’s account of how he and Dickens prepared for an evening show. Dolby was Dickens’s tour manager and travelled with him throughout his final reading tours, making sure that every detail from ticket sales to the set up in the various halls was properly looked after. Dolby was a Scot, and so I naturally give him a gentle Edinburgh burr, which adds a little variety to the duologue of Kate and Charles. The problem was, when I came back to being Kate again, I couldn’t lose the Scottish accent! It just wouldn’t leave and for a while Kate Douglas Wiggin, born in Philadelphia, raised in Maine, seemed to have emigrated from the Scottish borders – very odd.

The scenes in the railroad car when the 10-year-old Kate chatted excitedly to her hero, telling him that she skipped the dull parts of his books, went very well and were wonderfully received by the audience, and the whole show came to a lovely conclusion. Beth had decided to have a Q&A session after the show and audience members were encouraged to write questions on small pieces of card, so that we wouldn’t need to have staff running around the auditorium with microphones. As usual when the request for questions went out everyone was rather shy and coy, not wanting to be the first, but eventually a small girl in the front row handed her card up – in fact it wasn’t a question, but she had sketched the stage with me preforming on it – what an amazing souvenir, and one that I will cherish! It had been signed on the back by the artist – Lily, aged 9. Thank you, Lily.

When the show was finished, I changed and packed up and Kimberley drove me back to Liberty where we had a late lunch in the local Penera Bread outlet – I had a Baja Bowl, which featured chicken, avocado, pulses, tomatoes and a spicy salsa dressing – it was perfect. There was not a huge amount of time before the second show of the day, which was to be held at the Woodneath Library branch, another venue that I am very familiar with, although this year I would be performing in the brand-new auditorium space, which had been constructed since my last visit. On walking into the lobby, the visitor is faced with a huge living wall of moss, giving the building an ecologically sound feeling. Once in the auditorium the fresh feel is continued as the seats are all various shades of green too.

Sara was at her place in the sound booth, Captain Kirk-like (I mean in charge of the great ship, not that she has any resemblance to William Shatner), and we did sound checks on an empty stage, for there was one slight concern: there was no furniture. Somewhere along the way the crew who was supposed to transfer the set from one venue to another hadn’t turned up (either had forgotten to do it, or had thought the collection was for the following day, depending on who one spoke to), so there was a slightly fraught period during which there was the possibility that we would have to source other furniture that would look very modern – and probably green.

Beth was onto the issue, however, and with a little over 30 minutes to go before the show was due to start the furniture appeared and all calmness arrived at Woodneath, just before the audience.

During lunch Kimberly and I had reminisced about the days when the library service had provided a portable microphone system that had a stubborn mind of its own and often refused to work, and it was Sara who coaxed life out of it, making her our official microphone whisperer. Thank heavens, we mused, that these days we were using much more sophisticated and reliable equipment. That thought came back to bite me on the bum, when I began the show, and my words were accompanied by loud cracks of electronic disobedience. It was obvious that a lead was loose somewhere, but short of disrobing on stage, there was not much to do about it. I took my own decision: the audience wasn’t a large one and the acoustics of the room were good, so I switched off the mic and went unplugged for the evening.

The show went well, and I managed to escape Scotland on his occasion, which was a relief. We had another Q&A afterwards and again after a slow start the questions flowed freely, including a few old favourites and some that required more thought from me before answering. As the clock ticked towards 8.15 we wound up the session, I took my final bows of the day and left the stage.

I mingled for a while with some of the audience members and posed for pictures, before returning to my green room (and it was green, naturally) to change. Before I left the theatre, I went to the sound desk so that Sara and I could find out what had happened to the microphone – I am due back at Woodneath on Saturday to perform to a much larger audience, so we wanted to make sure that we were on top of the issue. It seemed as if the main lead into the unit was slightly loose and was moving about, thereby creating the static noise whenever I moved. Sara tightened it up, and we ran a few lines to check that the repair was successful, before saying our goodbyes and goodnights.

The evening was not quite over, for Kimberly and I had been invited to dinner at the home of long-time fan Doug Streu and his wife Denise. Doug is a self-confessed A Christmas Carol addict, watching every film version multiple times each season. He comes to most of my shows, if not all, in the Kansas City region and was keen to say thank you by inviting me to his house, and also to honor Kimberly’s retirement from Mid-Continent. Our evening was a lovely one, with a simple meal of chicken, corn and potatoes, and good conversational banter. A fine way to wind down, but soon fatigue crept up on me, and it was time to say thank you and farewell. Doug and Denise sent us into the night containing goody bags containing banana bread, pumpkin bread, some brownies and in my case a bag of freshly ground coffee, as has become traditional over the years. They are truly kind people

Back at the hotel I could reflect on a successful first day on the road, and look forward to my first performances of A Christmas Carol on Friday November 4th.

A Child’s Journey to Sturbridge

Tags

A Christmas Carol film, Charles Dickens, Dickens and Staplehurst. A Biogrpahy of a Rail Crash, Dickens Fellowship, Mark Twain, Old Sturbridge Village, The Signalman

Although my Friday alarm was set for 5.45 I woke before it and so it was easy to get ready and leave my room by 6.30. I had a three hour drive ahead of me and I was keen to get to Massachusetts by about 10am, therefore I decided to forego a hotel breakfast (as regulars know, this was a painful thing to do) and just grab something on the road. The traffic heading towards New York City was very heavy, even at that early hour, so it was as well that I left when I did.

I crawled and edged and trundled and inched and lumbered and crept, in fact I went so slowly that I would have had time to read a thesaurus if I’d had one to hand. Eventually I was passed New York and the heavy traffic was now filling the opposite carriageway and I could speed up and head towards New England. This is a journey I have done on many occasions, in one direction or the other, and it always brings to mind Charles Dickens’ American Notes, as I pass many of the cities that he visited and commented on.

After a while I pulled in at a service station and had a Panera Bread breakfast of oatmeal and fruit and a pastry, washed down with orange juice and coffee, before getting back into the Rogue and continuing north.

My destination was Old Sturbridge Village, a living museum near Worcester. I have heard a lot about it over the years but have never had the opportunity to visit, and on Friday I was to perform there. I made good time and pulled into the large car park a little after 10. My contact at Sturbridge was Ellen Taviano, with whom I have worked for many years at Winterthur House and Gardens in Delaware. Thanks to staff layoffs and changes during the pandemic, Ellen left Winterthur and took up a position at Sturbridge, heading up the retail operation. Having enjoyed such a close and successful relationship in the past she was keen to get me to to the museum to perform and the September tour proved to be the perfect opportunity. When I arrived, I left a voicemail on Ellen’s phone and made my way to the visitor centre, where the staff welcomed me and showed me into the empty auditorium where I was to perform. I say ‘I was to perform’, but actually I should say ‘where we were to perform’ for today I would be sharing the stage with fellow actor Jennifer Emerson, and this is the day I have been working towards and, yes, sometimes fretting over throughout the tour.

I took a look at the stage and saw that Ellen had placed a few articles of furniture for our set, but some were not quite right, so I took a look back stage and was delighted to find all sorts of bits and pieces that I could chose from Firstly, I pulled a few bits out, and brought them to the stage and as I did a lady dressed in an elegant Victorian gown entered the theatre, and this was Jennifer.

Jennifer has a long history in working at museums, interpreting characters and performing a series of her own one-person shows (including her version of A Christmas Carol). She has worked in costume and has directed and taught and is generally a very talented and committed go getter, and is also a member of the Dickens Fellowship.

When Ellen had chosen the shows for my visit she had asked for The Signalman (as she ordered plenty of my books), and A Child’s Journey With Dickens, which she had seen me perform at Winterthur. As soon as I saw that on the schedule I got in touch with Bob and suggested that we ask Jennifer to be involved. The performance is based around a speech made in 1912 by Kate Douglas Wiggin recounting the day that she met Charles Dickens on a train bound for Boston. The speech was made when Kate was 55, but the train journey had taken place in 1868, when she had been only 11, and the show features her at both ages. Now, I have performed it, with a degree of success in the past, but really? A balding, bearded Englishman trying to convince a New England audience that he is an 11 year girl from Maine is pushing it somewhat. Back in 2021 the Dickens Fellowship had asked me if I could give a Zoom performance, and I had suggested A Child’s Journey performed on the anniversary of the meeting on the train. One of the positives of the Covid pandemic was that it shrank the world, and people were suddenly communicating in ways that they had never realised possible. This extended to performance, and Id contacted Jennifer to ask her if she would like to work with me on the project. We developed a script together using purely archive material – letters, newspaper articles, memoirs, and of course Kate’s speech itself. As the story involved Dickens’ reading tour, we also featured a scathing review of one of his performances written by Mark Twain. Again the shrinking world had enabled me to ask yet another performer, Mark Dawidziak (who ‘does’ Twain), to record the piece for us – this was going to be a show performed by three actors each of whom specialised in performing on their own! The Zoom performance had been a great success and at the time I had said to Jennifer if there was ever a chance to actually perform it live, then we should grab it. Old Sturbridge Village was that chance.

We didn’t change the script very much, but had to think about how we would actually stage it. The idea was to have a lectern at one side of the stage where Jennifer would give the speech, as if addressing the guests at Delmonico’s restaurant in 1912, and on the other side would be a desk where I would sit as Dickens, writing letters about the tour, which were slipped into Kate’s dialogue at suitable moments. For example at one time Kate recalled praying fervently that Dickens didn’t suffer the pangs of seasickness as he sailed to America, and on that line I would recite two letters that he wrote from the SS Cuba as he sailed across the Atlantic detailing rough weather and sickness throughout the ship. The writing desk was angled away from where Kate stood, meaning that there was absolutely no connection between the two characters, until the key moment when the child Kate saw Dickens on the train, at which point we both sat next to one another on a small bench at centre stage, representing a seat in the railroad car.

When Jennifer arrived we continued foraging for the perfect furniture and when we were satisfied we started a rehearsal, our very first run through together. It went well, we both fumbled a few lines, but the the basic setting and idea seemed to work perfectly and we retired to the green room behind the stage in a state of great excitement

At 1 o’clock Ellen came to check that we were ready and then went to the stage and introduced us both and we emerged to applause. I welcomed everyone and made a very brief introduction to the show, and then introduced Kate as if I were chairing the meeting of the New York Dickens Fellowship in 1912. And so the show started. Oh, it went well, Jennifer had adopted two very different personas – the 55 year old Kate who had spent a life in education especially in the field of the Kindergarten movement, had a a teacher’s voice and demeanour, direct, factual but kindly, but as soon as she was on the train she became the 11 year old, excited fidgety, crossing and uncrossing her ankles, and gazing at her idol, Charles Dickens. I knew that all of this working superbly, although I could not see her performance as I was turned away, thanks to the laughter and joy coming from the audience. When it came to the moment that she precociously sat next to Dickens and he first saw her there was an instant connection between the two character. The audience responded wonderfully and laughed at all of the appropriate places (including during the Twain voiceover, saying of Dickens ‘His pictures are hardly handsome, and he, like everybody else, is less handsome than his pictures!’ Ouch.

Laughter turned to tears as Dickens asked Kate if she had wanted to go to his reading very much, and she had sobbed, ‘yes more than tongue can tell’ causing Dickens to cry also. Both Jennifer and I had tears in our eyes and we could see members of the audience wiping theirs too.

The applause at the end was wonderful and we knew that we had created a very special show which had worked just as we’d imagined it.

With all of the concentration and nerves that had surrounded the first act, it would have been easy to forget that I had The Signalman to perform in the second half and it required quite a mental re-set to get myself prepared for that. Actually I gave a very good performance of it, I think. It was dramatic and tight and the lines flowed well. The audience were hooked and applauded loudly when I had finished. During the applause I gestured to Jennifer (who had taken a seat in the auditorium to watch) and the clapping increased again as we both took more bows.

What a wonderful success.

After the show Ellen took me to the gift store for a signing session and it was wonderful to see many people who had come to see me in shows at other venues over the years. One man showed me a picture of me posing with his sons and said ‘Yes. that was seven years ago: look how young you look!’ Thanks!

When the signing was over I went to find my accommodation for the night. Sturbridge had built a small collection of cabins which were originally to be hotel accommodation for visitors to the museum, but Covid closed them and now they are used for staff, professors and visiting entertainers. My room was large and very comfortable and I slumped onto the bed and dozed a little for an hour or so, before it was time to return to the theatre and get changed ready for the second performance. After a while Jennifer appeared (she had stayed in costume, so hadn’t needed to arrive as early as I), and we chatted about the first show and how it had been received.

Soon Ellen appeared once more to check that all was well, and the evening show was under way. It was a larger audience than the afternoon, and once again they followed the story with rapt attention. I would say that at both performances it took a little while before everyone accepted the premise behind our performance, but it didn’t take long until they were fully involved and were laughing and crying. Once again our closing bows were met with a standing ovation.

The Signalman was also superbly received, and my most unsubtle plugging of the book was greeted with loud laughter, even applause. What a wonderful, and exciting day, and what a superb way to end what has been a difficult tour, not because of the schedule, or the venues, or the shows, but because I had wanted to be at home in England. I had wanted to file past the Queen’s coffin in Westminster Hall with Liz so that we could pay our respects to the only Monarch we have ever known; to be part of the national mourning. My home-made black arm band had been a token of my respect, but I had so wanted to do more.

After another signing session where many friends came to say hello, including Gary and Judi Vaillancourt, I returned to the theatre, got changed and collected all of my props, with the exception of the danger light, which would be collected by someone, sometime. Ellen had booked a restaurant for her, Jennifer, myself and her colleague Jacqui who had been helping with the lights and changing the set between shows. We had a lovely dinner, although conversation was awkward due to a singer who was performing throughout the evening. He was very good and had a wonderful set of songs, but with my tinitus it made hearing conversation extremely problematic.

The restaurant was emptying as we finished our dinner and it was clear that they wanted to close, so we said our goodbyes and headed back to our respective homes and lodges.

Saturday

On Saturday I would be flying home, but the morning was taken up to roaming around Old Sturbridge Village, and what an amazing place it is. The attraction was opened in 1946 and featured various historical New England buildings that had been dismantled and moved to the site. Now it covers 200 acres and features 59 properties. There is a blacksmith, a pottery, a cooper and various mills, all working. There are farms with cattle, sheep and pigs, there are demonstrations of 19th century cooking and crafting, and all in all it is a fascinating place to spend a day. On Saturday the sun shone, and I not only visited all of the properties, but also took the trails into woods and across pasture – I even ran a little.

After lunch it was time to head to the Logan Airport in Boston and board a 777 to fly home to a different England to the one I left 10 days before.

The Bells – Tales of Two Cathedrals

Tags

Canterbury, Canterbury Cathedral, Carnegie Forum, Charles Dickens, Dickens and Staplehurst. A Biogrpahy of a Rail Crash, Leicester Guildhall, The Signalman, Thomas Becket

Leicester

On the Friday following my return from Rochester I was back on the road once more, driving to the city of Leicester, where I was due to perform The Signalman at the ancient Guildhall which has been a regular part of my tours for many years.

The week had been mainly spent going over my lines, as once again I was performing a different script, I have not managed my 2022 tour very effectively when it has come to booking my shows, for I haven’t done the same script twice in a row for weeks now. Since I travelled to Cheshire on 21 May I have performed Great Expectations, Mr Dickens is Coming, Sikes and Nancy, The Trial from Pickwick, Doctor Marigold, Dickens and the Queen and now The Signalman, and my mind is getting more and more addled with all of those lines!

My regular visit to Leicester is as the final date on my winter tour, always performing A Christmas Carol as a matinee and evening show on 23rd December, so it felt odd to arrive in the warm sunshine of a June afternoon. The Guildhall is situated half way along a narrow cobbled lane, with the mighty spire of Leicester Cathedral above it. Even though the cathedral is currently closed for restoration work, the bells (which regularly accompany my shows) were still ringing loudly. I parked the car at the end of the lane and started carrying the first pieces of furniture that make up my Signalman set to the Guildhall’s front door, where I was met by Ben Ennis who runs the museum there and who has become a good friend over the years. He returned to the car with me and assisted in the unloading until everything was in and we could find a parking place. Ben hopped into the passenger seat to show me where we would most likely to be able to find an on-street spot, but as soon as we set off a car pulled out from the kerb and we were able to park straight away and conveniently close to the Guildhall which was a relief.

We walked back and I began setting up the room for the evening’s event. I was due to start by giving my talk about my book, ‘Dickens and Staplehurst’, as an introduction to ‘The Signalman’ the performance of which would take up the second act. The first job was to see if my laptop would talk to The Guildhall’s projector, as it is nice for the audience to have a few pictures to look at as I tell the story of the great 1865 rail crash. Last time I performed this programme, at Preston back in March, I never managed to get the projector connected, and I wasn’t confident that it would be any different this time round, so I was delighted when the screen flickered and images appeared.

With everything in place I made my way up to the huge room in which I change, and ate a small salad and some fruit and continued running through the lines of The Signalman, to make sure they were absolutely in place before the audience arrived for the 7.30 start. At Christmas I perform in the main Guildhall chamber and we have an audience of over 200, but because this was a smaller event Ben and I decided that the Mayor’s Parlour would be a better, more intimate room. The Parlour is directly under my changing rom, so not only could I hear the audience taking their places, but I am sure they could trace my footsteps as I circled the room above (whenever I run lines I have to be on the move constantly)

The Parlour was full when Ben welcomed me, and I walked to the front of my room in the blue trousers, pink shirt and grey checked jacket that is my casual ‘costume’ for the book talk.

The show was on 10th June, which was the 157th and a day anniversary of the crash itself, and the historical significance of the date was not last on the audience who followed every word with interest. The horrors of that June afternoon built the atmosphere perfectly for the intensity and darkness of the second half and I left the room, having heavily and shamelessly promoted my book which would be on sale after the event.

I changed into the all black Victorian costume, and went back to the Mayor’s Parlour to move the scenery into place once Ben had removed the screen and projector. I switched on the red spotlight which represents the danger light at the mouth of the tunnel and then returned to the Jury Room until Ben gave me the nod that it was time to start.

The words were firmly in place and the atmosphere in the room was perfect, even the Cathedral bells added to the intensity as they tolled solemnly adding a mournful soundtrack to the poor Signalman’s tale. At the end of the show I remained in the room and chatted with the audience, and sold a few books too. It was a fun, intimate, evening in great surroundings with some very nice people

I was not staying in Leicester that night, as one of our daughters was due to play in a football tournament early on Saturday morning, so when the audience had left I changed and with the help of the Guildhall staff loaded up the car before driving through the night back home to Oxfordshire.

Incidentally, the late night was well worth it, for our daughter scored an amazing goal in her tournament, firing a powerful shot into the roof of the net. Her celebrations with the team mates would not have been out of place in the UK Premier League, whilst her dad stood on the touchline with his arms aloft!

Canterbury

I didn’t bother to unload the car when I got home because I was due to be on the road again on Sunday afternoon, to drive to another cathedral city, Canterbury in the county of my birth, Kent. The fact that I was keeping the same furniture in the car may tell you that, thanks be to God, I was actually performing the same show for a second night! No new words to learn or revise, just the confidence of repeating a script which was firmly in my mind, and which had gone so well just two days earlier. It was a lovely afternoon to drive and the Sunday traffic was light as I listened to the radio commentary of the second cricket test match between England and New Zealand which was swinging one way and another between the two teams. The hedgerows and fields were alive with white frothy blossom, pricked with colour from poppies, cornflower and buttercups, the sky was blue, streaked with wisps of white cloud and the whole scene was perfectly British.

In Canterbury I drove to my hotel and just had time to check in and have a quick refreshing shower, before trying to find the venue for the show which was at The Canterbury Cathedral Lodge Hotel. Canterbury is an ancient city, dating back to the Roman times and beyond, and the centre is a spider’s web of tiny lanes, mostly closed to traffic. I followed my sat nav unit which took me to the very gates of the cathedral among groups of languid tourists and students ambling through the streets gazing at the views. Unfortunately at this particular point there was no vehicular access to the precincts so I had to double back and try an approach from the other side of the city. This time I got a little closer, but still wasn’t able to get to the hotel. I managed to find a parking place and went to the cathedral gift shop to ask advice. The staff directed me to a tiny driveway, next to one of the city’s many pubs, and so finally I was able to pull into the oasis of the cathedral’s grounds.

Canterbury Cathedral is magnificent and towers proudly over the city calling pilgrims to the tomb of Thomas Becket who was brutally murdered there in 1170 by followers of King Henry II. Naturally the bells were pealing loudly, as they had in Leicester.

The Cathedral Lodge Hotel is a modern building (by which I mean 1970s), and is more of a conference centre than a tourist hotel. I have actually performed there before at a conference for The Dickens Fellowship many years ago. I carried all of the Signalman furniture through the gates and up a long path, negotiated the swing doors into the entrance hall, and from there up a staircase to the room where I would be performing.

I was due to perform for a small tour group of ‘mystery readers’ from America. The tour had been arranged by Kathy, who I had met many years ago at a Rochester Dickens Festival. Kathy is based in America and has been putting these tours together in association with a company called Tours of Discovery, owned an operated by Nicky Godfrey-Evans, a certified Blue Badge tourist guide from Cumbria.

As I was setting up both Kathy and Nicky arrived and checked that all was well and then disappeared to freshen up after a long day out on the road (the group had been visiting Rochester where I had been just a week before). I finished positioning the set, and then stepped out onto a little balcony which overlooked the quiet gardens above which the cathedral tower towered.

The show was due to start at 6 and the various members of the tour started arriving and taking their place as the clock ticked around and when everyone was ready Kathy welcomed the group and introduced me. On this occasion I was not doing the first half about my book, but still prefaced The Signalman by talking briefly about the Staplehurst crash. Obviously quite a few of the audience didn’t know of the accident as there many gasps and shocked expressions as I continued telling the story. The Signalman had the same effect, especially the final moments, and it proved to be a most successful evening. Having taken the applause and been thanked by Kathy, I took some questions and was able to tell a few anecdotes and talk about my acting life and how the Dickens shows came about (incidentally all of which is the subject matter for my next book!)

When I had finished speaking everyone gathered around the table at the side of them room and a large proportion of the group ensured that they would be taking home signed first editions of a Dickens book.

I changed out of my costume and a few of the group very kindly helped me to ferry all of my furniture back to the car where I carefully loaded it. Kathy and Nicky had offered to take me to dinner after the show so we walked into the centre of Canterbury and ate at a Cote Brasserie in the company of Diane, another member of the group who had written her dissertation on Dickens and who is a massive fan of my ancestor.

We sat outside the restaurant as it was still a warm evening. It was very quiet in the city centre, and we ate our meal at a Parisian pace, enjoying the good food, chilled wine and fine companionship. It was so nice to be able to have a relaxed meal after a show, for so often I finish late and end up with a take away in my hotel room. It was getting dark when we walked back to cathedral, subtly floodlit against the dark blue of the night sky.

I said good by to Kathy, Nicky and Diane and returned to my car and drove the five minutes back to my own hotel.

The Carnegie Forum, Abingdon

I had to leave Canterbury early the next morning as I had another commitment back in Oxfordshire at lunchtime, so as soon as I had enjoyed the Premier Inn breakfast, I was back in the car and edging along in the morning rush hour. I had plenty of time to get home and passed the time listening to podcasts about the weekend’s Grand Prix and the Test Match.

I was due to speak at the Carnegie Forum event in Abingdon and was due to be there for 1pm. The Carnegie award is given to the best work of children’s literature each year and has been awarded to many influential and notable authors. Alongside the official announcement schools around the country are encouraged to stage their own events based on the shortlisted novels. In Abingdon pupils from 6 schools come together to work in teams, preparing short presentations extolling the virtue of each novel. Many of the students have also written reviews of the books, and these are judged also (in past years I have been on the judging panel and certainly didn’t envy the task of this year’s judges!) I had been asked to give a 20 minute talk on the art of public peaking and presentation. As public speaking is not something I enjoy, or think I’m particularly good at, I talked about the ability to ‘assume’ a character as a speaker – a more confident version of oneself, just as if I were playing Scrooge, or Cratchit, or Marigold.

I arrived on time and the pupils were all working hard in their groups under gazebos in the middle of a large school playing field. One of the great things about the event is how students from a wide variety of backgrounds – independent fee-paying schools, and state funded schools, just work together and create some amazing things.

My talk was inside a small sports pavilion and as there were so many kids working I gave the speech twice, taking half of the participants each time. I hope it was alright and hit the brief – everyone seemed to listen quietly and they all applauded at the end, so it must have been OK! The best bit was the opportunity to extol the virtues of my own favourite book from my childhood – A Bear Called Paddington, by Michael Bond, and I wallowed in nostalgia as I explained what that little book (and that little bear) had meant to me. I also tried to communicate my sheer pride and emotion at seeing Paddington’s starring role as part of the Jubilee celebrations.

With my talks done, we all went outside and watched the presentations. Part of my speech had been about the practicalities of being heard and understood effectively, but as the sketches were being performed in the open air with the busy A34 road just behind the field, it was very difficult for all of the performers, (although some really shone out).

The conclusion to the afternoon was to announce the winning presentation, the best book reviews and then the result of the student’s vote for their favourite shortlisted novel, and it is always interesting to see how that compares with the official announcement, which will be made on Thursday.

It had certainly been a busy few days and now I have a few days rest before getting back on the road on Friday.

The Drood Dudes

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens, Dickens Fellowship, The Drood Dudes, The Mystery of Edwin Drood, The Spires Academy, The Woman in White

After the fallow period of recent years, the spring of 2022 is proving to be a busy one as I travel around the country performing in a wide variety of venues. Having returned from Preston on Monday morning, I had a day to collect my thoughts before heading off once more on Wednesday, south this time, to the city of Canterbury in Kent, the county of my birth.

I was due to visit The Spires Academy, a relatively new school, built in 2007 in a rural setting to the east of the city. This would be a second visit to Spires for me, where the year 10 students are studying A Christmas Carol for their GCSE course. It is a impressive modern building, standing proudly with its lime green cladding welcoming visitors into a large central atrium, which acts not only as a dining hall at lunchtime but also as a performance space.

My contact at the school is one of the English teachers, Sarah Turrell, who is also a keen member of the Dickens Fellowship, and she loves to share her passion for Dickens with her students. Sarah has come to many of my shows in Kent over the years and is currently writing an article about the teaching of Dickens in the modern era for that most academic of journals, The Dickensian.

The journey was a beautiful one with the chill of early March giving way to Spring, there were even fields of Rape beginning to paint their broad, yellow splashes across the countryside, and the blossom of trees speckled the deep blue sky. I arrived at 11.30, and Sarah was there to meet me and help me unload. With the help of the facilities staff we found a small cupboard in the main atrium to store my furniture and then headed up three floors to a conference room (in my day, schools never had ‘conference rooms’!)

My first commitment of the day was to meet a small group of students who, inspired by Sarah, had formed their own Dickens Society within the school. The group comes from a wide variety of year groups (yrs 8 – 11) and meet at lunchtimes when their respective timetables allow. Sarah’s suggestion to the team was that they study Charles Dickens’ final, unfinished novel, and try to create their own solution to ‘The Mystery of Edwin Drood’, and it is this project that gave the group its name: The Drood Dudes.

Before the group arrived, in dribs and drabs from their various morning lessons, Sarah gave me a printed essay, showing what has been achieved so far, and I only had time to cast a very quick eye over it before the seats around the table were full and we began to chat. ‘The Mystery of Edwin Drood….Unveiled. A Work in Progress’ is not only an amazing feat of imagination, but also a great piece of well-researched writing too. Students have paired up and worked on specific chapters, and making sure that the language that they use is suitably Victorian in structure. An example:

”The cabin windows blurred by innumerable layers of smog which further added to the uncomfortable aura that had latched onto the room. ‘Where were you on the night of the storm, Miss Budd?’ Gerald’s tone had indicated that he had no longer been welcoming of her diversion to his prompts. Stubborn in her innocence, her annoyance had quickly been replaced with a monotone seriousness. Straightening her posture and clasping her hands together, she responded.

‘My homestead. And only my homestead’

Yes! the detective introduced to the story to get to the bottom of the disappearance of Edwin Drood, is named in my honour, although the character is certainly not an accurate representation of me, for later the narrative mentions that ‘Gerald could tolerate no more. Adjusting his hair, he exclaimed ‘Miss Bud, I think I’ve heard enough.’ It has been many years since I have been able to adjust my hair.

We went through the piece chapter by chapter and the authors of each talked through their inspiration and the motivation for steering the plot as they did.

When Charles Dickens was writing Drood, during the early months of 1870, it was his first novel for 5 years, and marked a new direction: a mystery novel. Perhaps influenced, or piqued, by the success of his good friend Wilkie Collins’ The Woman in White, Dickens set out to weave as many false avenues and red herrings as he could into the plot. Unfortunately, Charles Dickens died on June 9 1870 when only 6 of the planned 12 monthly instalments had been published, meaning that he unwittingly created one of the greatest mystery novels ever written – one that had no denouement. He didn’t leave a detailed plan behind him, although a few letters to friends have a few suggestions as to where the plot may have lead. But, as one of the leading Dickensian scholars pointed out to me a few years ago, if you stop reading Great Expectations at the half way point you would have no clue what is to come, and it is reasonable that Charles would have pulled the same trick with Drood.

I shall not tell you what conclusion the Dudes have come to, for I hope that when the piece is complete I may be able to share it in its entirety, but it is obvious that they have considered and discussed every angle of their plot and stand by it. As we chatted I threw a few alternative thoughts into the mix, not because I felt they were needed, or superior, but because I was keen to hear them defend their choices, which they firmly and passionately did.

When we had finished discussing their work Sarah asked if I would sign copies of The Mystery of Edwin Drood for each of the Dudes, and as I signed they asked me questions about Dickens and one man theatre, until the bell rang heralding the end of a truly exciting morning.

It is obvious that Sarah has inspired this group of students, and they all have immense pride not only in what they have created but also of their society (they even have their own handshake!). In a world that is so fraught with negativity at the moment, this hour was a shining beacon of positivity and hope for the future.

Sarah took me to the dining hall where we met the school’s interim principal, David Thornton, who said that he had never known such success in an extra curricular club.

After a quick lunch the hall was cleared and a stage erected. I just had time to place all of my props, and change before the year 10s arrived – a typical bunch of secondary school pupils: some noisy, some quiet, some defiant, some intrigued, some confident, some troubled. When everyone was seated, the head of the English department welcomed the group with dire warnings about behaviour, and then welcomed me to the stage. I started the show by talking a bit about how and why Charles Dickens wrote A Christmas Carol, as the exam syllabus calls for a degree of contextual knowledge as well as a familiarity with the book itself, and then began. This was the first time that I had performed A Christmas Carol since 23 December in Leicester, but the words and movements came back to me as if I had done it the day before.

It wasn’t an easy performance, for the space was cavernous and the audience was not altogether attentive (two members being removed and sent to a classroom to write essays in silence), but I was pleased with what I did. I am currently writing a book about my performances of A Christmas Carol, which includes a detailed account of how I perform each scene, and it was interesting to recall my written words as I performed. I became a lot more aware of where I was on the stage and how I delivered the various lines, and mentally stored some details for the next time I write. The show had a slight break in the middle as there was a bell heralding a change of lessons, and the hall being at the centre of the school building would become packed with students moving from one room to another, so we had agreed that I would simply pause and wait until peace was restored. While I sat on stage during the hiatus some of the students shouted out ‘Mr Dickens! Can we have a selfie with you later?’ I said yes, and the request came in from others too….

When I resumed, my main concern was the timing of the show, as I had to be finished before the school day ended at 3.15. Fortunately there was a clock on the wall opposite me and I could carefully make decisions as to how much of the text to included so that I finished and left time for some questions. I said the final ‘God Bless Us, Every One’ with 10 minutes to spare, and the year 10s gave me loud and raucous applause, born to some extent out of the relief to be able to make noise again! When the tumult had died down I took questions for a while, the answers to only a few of which were going to help the students in the exam, for example I doubt the paper will ask for my age, or details of how much I earn, but it was a fun session nonetheless.

At 3.15 the bell sounded the end of the day and the group dispersed, although plenty of students gathered around to take their selfies with me, before heading home. Soon the atrium was quiet once more, and having changed I loaded the car, said farewell to Sarah and headed back onto the road.

As I drove away I smiled at the memory of a successful day, but in particularly of my hour in the company of a talented, enthusiastic and inspiring group of students: Maxwell, Jasmin, Honey, Ryan, James, Chloe, Maisie, Rosenevi, Jasmine, Katy, Ali, Phoebe, Kaiya and, of course, Sarah: The Drood Dudes.

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.

Memories from the Mid Continent Public Library Service.

Tags

Baseball, Kansas City, Library, Mid Continent Public Library, Snow

It was no surprise that following the pictures from Omaha my phone should choose to then remind me of my times in the Kansas City area, for the two venues, being geographically close, inevitably have been paired on my tour during recent years.

Woodneath Library Centre

The picture that my phone produced was from two years ago as I prepared to perform at the Woodneath Library in Liberty, Missouri, but my relationship with the Mid Continent Library Service, who own and manage Woodneath, is not a recent one – oh, no, I have been performing there for longer than any other venue on my tour. My first visit was in 1995.

My career as a performer of Charles Dickens’ work began in England in 1993. That year marked the 150th anniversary of the first publication of A Christmas Carol and I, as an actor, had been approached by a local charity asking me to recreate one of my great great grandfather’s famous readings as a fundraiser. I reluctantly agreed, and that decision changed my life.

In 1994 I performed The Carol a few times in the UK and one show was watched by a representative from the Galveston Dickens Festival where my Dad had been appearing for the past three years. After the show we all chatted. My father didn’t wish to travel any more and was keen for me to take over the mantle, he had made the introduction with a view to making that happen.

And sure enough, when December ’95 came around I was on a plane heading to Texas. I spent a weekend becoming part of ‘Dickens on the Strand’ which was an amazing time, but when Sunday evening came I didn’t fly home to England, I boarded a flight for Kansas City, Missouri.

The superb festival in Galveston had inspired a similar event in Kansas City which was the brainchild of the Missouri Rep Theater Company and my father had worked closely with them over the previous two years as a consultant. He had attended the inaugural festival in ’94 and now I was stepping into his shoes to carry on the legacy.

But there was a timetabling problem: The Galveston festival finished on Sunday evening and the Kansas City one wouldn’t begin until the next Friday, leaving me doing nothing for four days in a rather luxurious hotel.

Enter the Mid Continent Library Service. The Charles Dickens Holiday Fair organisers thought it would be great publicity for their festival if I could get out and perform in front of as many people in as many areas around downtown Kansas City as I could, encouraging them to visit the Convention Center at the weekend. The library service, which is based in Independence, has branches all over the Kansas City region (thirty-five currently) and so presented the perfect solution.

During that first year I was conducted from venue to venue by a lady named Linda who was volunteer with the festival. I remember that she had a stylishly coiffured bob of platinum blonde hair and wore a large fur coat, so dark that it was almost black: she looked a bit like a walking pint of Guinness!

In those days I used to perform three times a day and, as I mentioned in an earlier post, the performances were given as readings and were well received. The following year we repeated the exercise, but during that year the Holiday Fair went bust, meaning that there was no reason for me to return to the Kansas City region in ’97.

Except The Mid Continent Public Library Service had other ideas. The appearances had proved so popular that they wanted to continue the relationship and booked me to return to Missouri in 1997 and I have been going ever since, except for the years when I ‘retired’.

Memories? too many to mention! In the early days I used to be looked after by two librarians in the events and programmes team, Miriam and Marlena, and we would spend whole days driving from one branch of the library to another, each performance punctuated by a huge meal in various restaurants.

Performing in a library space was strange, for although the audiences were relatively small, the buildings themselves were built to soak up sound, meaning that projecting my voice was incredibly difficult and I would frequently end up very tired and hoarse after a day’s performing.

A Library Set

Mid Continent not only enjoyed the audiences that I drew but also the attendant publicity that came with my visits and we often had to find time for media events and interviews between the branch visits. On one occasion we were due to have a very early morning radio interview at a station who broadcast out of a small shack across the state line in Kansas. There was heavy snow on the ground and the air was filled with blizzard conditions as we crawled slowly on. I was in costume as we had to drive straight to a library branch as soon as the interview was done.

At one point of the journey we reached the bottom of a steep hill and the route up was slick and icy meaning that we couldn’t proceed. However Marlena noticed that the route DOWN the hill had been well used by various trucks meaning we would be able to get up the hill by driving on the wrong side of the road. Of course a problem would arise if a car should be legitimately driving only to be confronted with us squirming up the slope, so I rather gallantly, or foolishly, volunteered to walk ahead of Marlena’s car to warn any oncoming traffic. I wrapped my scarf around my neck and pulled my top hat low over my forehead and held my walking cane ahead of me to alert anyone who may be there. It was fortunate that I did, for indeed a pick-up truck driven by a bearded guy in a baseball cap did start the descent. I waved my cane high in the air, matching the movement with my other arm until he stopped and stared at me, mouth open.

To understand his shock you have to relive the scene from his viewpoint: He was driving into a whiteout, nothing to be seen, an alien landscape ahead of him. What was that? A shape, a shadow, a figure: out of the mist appeared a ghost, the ghost of a Victorian gentleman waving in tormented anguish. If the scene had been included in a 70’s movie our pick-up driver would have looked at a half emptied bottle in his hand and shaken his head, before tossing the liquor out of the car window!

On another occasion we had a little time before we needed to be at a venue so the M&Ms decided to take me to a baseball batting cage where I could try some hits. I was fitted with a helmet and gloves but other than that I was in full costume as the automatic pitching machine pelted balls at me.

It was during these early years that I performed at the Blue Springs branch where the head librarian was Kimberley Howard. During subsequent years Kimberley rose up the ranks and began to work on the programming team, initially alongside Miriam and Marlena and more latterly on her own. For the past goodness-knows-how many years Kimberley has been the one who has booked me and looked after me during my stays.

With Kimberley (r) and the team

On her watch my performances have changed somewhat as the interest and audiences have grown. The smaller branches have not been able to accommodate the growing numbers and Kimberley has found other ways of presenting my shows to her patrons – the biggest being in a facility attached to a retirement community called the John Knox Pavilion where we pack around 900 people in, and the amazing thing about it is, that Mid Continent offer all of their programmes for free!

You can imagine therefore, given our history, that Kimberley and the team were very sad that I couldn’t travel in 2020 but as has been their way over the years they weren’t going to let a thing like a global pandemic get in the way of their programming.

Mid Continent Library Service have been instrumental in getting my new film made, and have assisted financially in the production, so our relationship which goes so far back is now even stronger and deeper than ever before.