Pulling a Cracker Alone, and a Proposal of Marriage

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Alderley Edge, Charles Dickens, Christmas Crackers, Christmas Jokes, Ebenezer Scrooge, Fawlty Towers, Highclere Castle

Alderley Edge

On Saturday morning, I was due to leave Liverpool,. although I would be staying in the North West. The first thing to do was to retrieve my furniture and props from St George’s Hall, which I had to do before 10. I had breakfast, this time in the comfort of the Shankly without needing to cross the road from red to blue, and retrieved my car from the parking garage and drove up to the hall, having been admitted through the security barrier which was monitored round the clock. I was told to drive up a curb and onto the pavement, which was as slick as an ice rink, as a result of the heavy rain of the day and the sub-zero temperatures of the night. The car simply slid over the paving, and for a moment I thought that I would take the helter-skelter and the huge ferris wheel out, but actually my Renault slithered into a perfect position by the door, as if I were an expert stunt driver. All of my props and costume were waiting by the door, so it hardly took any time to load, but while I was lifting the heavy chair into the car, my feet slipped on the ice, and in an effort not to fall I could feel my back twist and I knew instantly that I had strained a muscle, just to add to my current physical woes!

I returned to the hotel and relaxed until my check-out time of 11, and then drove into the beautiful county of Cheshire, towards the town of Alderley Edge, where I would be performing that evening. Alderley Edge is not too far from Manchester, and is known for being the home of many of the Premier League’s top footballers, meaning that the property prices in the town are some of the highest in the country. Indeed, as I drove across the bridge into the main street one of the first cars I saw casually parked by the curbside was a yellow Ferrari, and there were copious Aston Martins and other luxury brands on display, as if they were just regular run-arounds. I parked and strolled up and down the street, looking into the windows of high-end restaurants and boutiques with no price labels, but it was raining heavily by now and I wasn’t really in the mood for walking. As I reached the upper end of the street I noticed a sign to The Alderley Edge Hotel where I was due to stay, so walked up the drive and into the stylish reception area, where I asked if there was any possibility of an early check in, and I was told that yes, my room was indeed ready! I walked back into town, retrieved my car and drove back to the hotel, and in ten minutes or so was seated in the restaurant ready for lunch.

Being sat a single table can be a lonely experience, but of course one becomes used to it when on tour, but to be sat at a table laid for a Christmas celebration with just one Christmas Cracker made it seem even more so!

Around me were groups of people in Christmas jumpers and sparkly dresses, laughing and exchanging gifts. I ordered a large plate of fish and chips, and as I waited, another single gentleman was shown in, and the staff called him by name, asking him not to go to his usual table, as that was reserved for another party. He didn’t look at a menu, just ordered what he wanted, and it was obvious that he was a permanent resident at The Alderley Edge, and the character of ‘The Major’ from Fawlty Towers came to mine. Actually the hotel itself was not dissimilar, being an elegant old house situated up a short driveway. I should say, however, that is where the similarity ended, for the service and staff were impeccable!

I ate my lunch, and took my cracker to my room, where I pulled it. My treat was a pink hair bobble, and my joke was ‘What do vampires sing on New Year’s Eve? Old Fangs Syne’. I didn’t put the paper hat on.

I had a couple of hours before I had to be at the venue, so rested and snoozed, before showering to wake myself up again. The Festival Hall was only a couple of minutes’ drive away, and I was soon pulling up outside. The hall was originally built in the 1920s, but has recently been renovated, and was very smart and clean. It had a plastered barrel roof, which gave away its age, but everything else looked very up to date. I was greeted by Colin, who was one of the hall managers, and who had agreed to run my sound effects for me. There was no sound desk available, but we worked out that if we plugged my laptop into the amplifier (hidden away in the kitchen), we could make it work. I went through the script with him, and was confident that everything would be OK. The stage was at one end of the room and although very wide, was quite narrow, it had a black cloth behind (actually a star cloth with lots of tiny lights sewn in, but we decided not to use that effect).

When I had set everything up I chatted with Colin and the other staff at the hall, until Lynne and Jacqui arrived too. The show was another that Lynne was producing and she had booked the hall at Alderley Edge. Even as we chatted, some audience members began to arrive, so I went to my dressing room, and the bar sprang into action!

To be honest, the effort and expenditure of adrenaline from two days in St George’s Hall was taking its toll, and I felt very weary. The cough had returned, and I was feeling very weak, but I could hear the audience arriving, could hear the usual sense of excitement, and gave myself a good talking to: the audience in the Alderley edge had invested just as much (I mean from the point of view of choosing to spend their evening at my show), as those in the heart of Liverpool, and therefore deserved just as much effort and commitment from me. The show was due to start at 7, but as the audience arrived Lynne realised that one of the promotional fliers was printed with 7.30 instead, meaning that the lovely early start time was delayed. We had decided to go for a 7.15 start, assuming that people expecting a 7.30 start would probably be arriving then, but they were still entering as the half-hour passed. At last Lynne welcomed everyone and I made my way through the audience and up onto the stage. I gave the show my all, but the annoying coughs, which have been a constant companion since Lewes, Delaware, continued to interrupt the flow., However, the audience enjoyed the evening and gave me a lovely ovation at the end.

Having sold out all of the merchandise at St George’s Hall, there was no formal signing session, but a few people wanted to say thank you, and pose for photographs with me afterwards, so we gathered around the sparkling Christmas Tree next to the stage until everyone was happy, and I could change and start to pack up. I thanked Colin for his efforts with the sound (he had stood in the open door of the kitchen following the script, and as the cue approached had withdrawn back to the laptop – every cue came in perfectly on time), and drove back to the hotel where Lynne, Jacqui and I sat in the bar and drank a toast to the success of our events over the past three days.

Highclere Castle

I left Alderley Edge as soon as I had finished breakfast on Sunday morning, and was on the road by 8.45. I felt exhausted and after an hour’s driving I needed to stop at a service station, drink coffee, and get some fresh air, before continuing home, where I arrived at lunchtime. It was so good to see Liz and the girls again, but my time at the hose was all too short, for that afternoon I was due to be at the amazing Highclere Castle. The weather was awful as I drove the 40 minutes or so, and as I arrived some of the audience were already gathering and my car had to be escorted at walking pace up the drive, for visitors were making their way towards the house. The timetable stated that the doors would be opened at 4.30, but folk were welcome to explore the grounds before that – there was not much exploring going on.

As I drove across the expanse of gravel in front of the main door, where countless lovely old cars have swept in during the various seasons of Downton Abbey, a voice called out from beneath an umbrella: ‘Hey Mr Dickens! This is a LONG WAY from Pigeon Forge!!’ I was astounded, for Pigeon Forge is a tourist town in Tennessee where I performed for a number of happy years in a very small hotel, and here were two audience members from those days who had made the journey to England, building their Christmas trip to around their plans to watch me perform at Highclere.

Inside the castle the preparations were being made for the evening events, and I arranged my set on the small stage which is dwarfed by the magnificent central saloon of the castle. Lord and Lady Carnarvon were there, as was Charlotte, who a few years ago drew the short straw of operating my sound effects. ‘Is the script the same? Nothing new?’ she nervously asked, and I reassured her that nothing had changed, and then I remembered the new voice over that I had recorded in Liverpool for the start of the second act. ‘There is just one thing,,,,,’

The audience were gathering at the door, deciding that a stroll in the grounds during a rainstorm was not such fun, and were keen to take their seats. I disappeared off to one of the private rooms in the castle, the studio, and changed ready for the evening ahead.

At 5 o’clock I went to the top of the grand staircase and looked down n the audience below, which included our good friends Anthony and Andrea, who we had invited to the show, but sadly not Liz, who had tested positive for Covid a few days earlier, and was miserably at home. This was very sad for us both, as the Highclere performance is traditionally the only one on tour that Liz can get to, being close to home,and having been apart for so long it is a treat of an evening that we both look forward to.

Lady Carnarvon welcomed the gests, and then passed the castle over to me for the next couple of hours. I made my slow walk down the staircase, channelling my inner Hugh Bonneville, through the audience and onto the stage. As with all recent shows, I got though with a few coughs, but managed to tell the story well, and the audience lapped it up – laughed, clapped and sobbed a little. When both acts were over I quickly changed, and made my way to the marquee in one of the courtyards, to join Anthony and Andrea for dinner. The other guests took their seats around us, but respected our privacy generously. When we had finished and I stood to leave, a man, sat at a table with his companion, approached me and aske if I wouldn’t mind having a picture taken, and I of course agreed. As we posed, the couple happily told me that he had proposed during the interval, and that they were now engaged to be married! We chatted for a while, and soon other audience members were asking for pictures, and wanting to chat. It was a very nice and relaxed way to finish the evening. It was still raining hard when I left, and drove home, and I was very glad to be back on our sofa, with Liz.

the following evening, Monday, was petty much a repeat of Sunday, albeit without a proposal of marriage. Before the show Lady Carnarvon and I recorded a short video for TicToc (she is quite the social media expert),and chatted about A Christmas Carol, the season and my performances. The Monday audience were lively and fun, as the Sunday one had been, and I revelled once more beneath the high stone walls of the magnificent home. The shows a Highclere Castle have very much become a traditional part of my tour, and I love performing there. Hopefully next year we will add an extra night to the run.

And so, my 2022 tour was reaching its final stages, and I will tell you about the closing days in my next post.

Return to Minneapolis

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Bill Bryson, Brit's Pub, Charles Dickens, Dodge Charger, Downton Abbey, Ebenezer Scrooge, Hertz Car Rental, Highclere Castle, Notes from a Big Country, Philadelphia, Steve McQueen, The Minneapolis Club

Friday would be another day of travel, as I made my way back from the East coast to the Midwest once more, and to my final destination of this part of the tour: Minneapolis.

Having had a coffee and completed Wordle, I opened the curtains to find that the skies were grey and depositing copious amounts of rain onto the ground, as the storm that had been promised for days made its way up from the south.

I had my breakfast in the lobby of the hotel, and then returned to my room to re-pack my case, which thanks to my diligence the day before was an easy job, just stuffing pairs of socks into my top hot and wrapping the thick scarf around the outside, so that it didn’t get crushed, and slipping it back into the space from which it had been lifted 24 hours before. I once again packed both of my costumes into the little roller bag and was ready to get on the road once more.

Before I set out on my journey, I spent some time connecting my phone to the car’s audio system, and was delighted to discover that on this model of Malibu my phone’s display would be shown on the large screen, meaning that navigation into Philadelphia would be much easier than it had been two days before when I had been trying to prop my phone up near to the gear shift, and hoping it wouldn’t fall onto the floor every time I took a curve. I was accompanied on my journey by the first practice session from the Brazilian Grand Prix, and also the audio book that I am currently listing to, Bill Bryson’s ‘Notes From a Big Country’. The journey took me onto I295, and along the route were ‘witty’ signs displayed on overhead gantries, designed presumably to attract the notice of drivers who had become blind to more traditional warnings: ‘SLOW DOWN. THIS AINT THUNDER ROAD’, ‘DONT BOOZE AND CRUISE’ and ‘BE A DEER, LOOK AFTER WILDLIFE’. All very laudable, but what if I had been looking up at the sign and chuckling to myself just as a deer ran out in front of me, meaning I didn’t have time to react?

After thirty minutes or so I was arriving on the outskirts of Philadelphia, and through the murk I could just about see the shadowy outline of the city skyline, bringing to mind Charles Dickens’ description in A Christmas Carol, ‘…and the houses opposite were mere phantoms.’ I skirted the spectral city and was soon pulling up at the Hertz Car Rental drop off. The wait for a shuttle bus was a long one, and by the time it arrived there was a quite a crowd wanting to board. A large crowd at the car rental office inevitably means a large crowd in the terminal, and I was glad that I had left plenty of time, for I was resigned to standing in line for a long time at security. Actually, my flight was departing from Terminal F, a much smaller satellite terminal, where the tiny planes that don’t require jetways depart from, so the queues were not too long. It was 12.15 when I cleared security and as the flight would be over three hours, I thought it would be good to get some lunch, so sat down to a burger and fries, before finding gate F14 (at least I hoped that was the gate number and not the plane we would be flying in) and sitting down with my fellow passengers until we were called to board. It was a very full flight, and we were all packed into to our little sardine can. As we taxied to the runway the rain lashed down ever harder outside and the captain warned us that it would be bumpy ride until we reached our cruising altitude above the clouds – and he was right. Once the wheels left the ground we bumped and tipped and dropped and soared in a way to remind a nervous passenger, and even a less nervous one, how very fragile an aircraft is when faced with the might of nature.

Being back on an American Airlines flight I was hoping that I may be able to find Ford v Ferrari again on the entertainment system so that I could finish it, but the choices had changed, or perhaps are just different on the smaller planes, so instead I watched the sheer tosh that is the second Downton Abbey film. It really is very silly, but it was lovely to see Highclere Castle, and to know that I will be performing there again in little over a month’s time.

Eventually we began our descent into Minneapolis/St Paul airport and touched down in a region I know very well and feel very at home in. Over two years I performed in the play ‘To Begin With’ in Minneapolis and lived in two apartment blocks throughout the rehearsal periods and the runs, meaning that I walked to grocery stores, strolled in the parks, went to the Art Museum, had Sunday breakfast in a little diner, and thoroughly enjoyed myself. One year Liz stayed with me, and on another occasion my brother Ian came and took some amazing production photographs of me playing Charles Dickens, complete with a specially made wig, (the wig was for me, by the way, not for Ian!) They were happy days, and it was great to be back.

I found my way to the Hertz garage and discovered that on this occasion I was allowed to choose my car from ‘The President’s Circle’ aisle, rather that the Gold member’s one, and this gave me a fantastic choice – I could have selected another convertible Mustang, like the one I had driven in September, but a convertible in a Minnesota November didn’t seem suitable, and in the end I decided to channel my inner Steve McQueen and slipped into the driver’s seat of a black Dodge Charger, which trembled and shook as I started the large engine.

The drive into the centre if the city took about 30 minutes, and the traffic was heavy, but there were occasions when I could accelerate hard, and the beast just leaped forward with a magnificent surge of acceleration which brought a big smile to my face.

My destination was the very exclusive Minneapolis Club in the heart of the city, where I will be performing on Saturday and Sunday. A few years ago, I performed in The Aster Cafe in the city, which was owned by a fine Pickwickian named Jeff Arundel, and Jeff is now the Managing Director of the club and was keen to have me preform in the sumptuous wood panelled elegance of the old building (the club was formed in 1907). Not only would I be performing at the club, but I was fortunate enough to be staying there as well. I gently guided the Charger into the club’s parking garage, and in no time was checked in and taking the elevator to the 4th floor. The Elevator itself, and I use the American term because it seemed such an American style, was tiny, with just room for my cases and me, and had a large rotary handle that, in former days, an attendant would have operated on behalf of the members and their guests.

When I had settled into my room, which was spacious and very well appointed, I drew a bath and luxuriated using some of the hand-made soap that had been given me back in Kansas City, and just felt a little bit spoiled and pampered. At seven o’clock I went out to dinner. Rather than availing myself of the club’s restaurant, I wanted to return to a regular haunt during my ‘To Begin With’ years, and that was to Brit’s Pub. I found walked the few blocks through the city and was delighted to discover that my navigational skills had not deserted me. Brit’s was bustling and busy, but I was shown to a seat in the upstairs room, and admired the portraits of the Queen, Churchill, various football teams and numerous Union Jacks, flags of St George, the Welsh and Scottish flags and plenty of other memorabilia. As a nod to home, I chose a Shepherd’s Pie, which was delicious.

It wasn’t late when I walked back to the club, perhaps 8.30, and the city’s buildings looked magnificent lit up against the night sky. It was cold, but not truly Minneapolis-cold. When I was here before it was February, and the temperatures were so far below zero as to make my beard freeze!

In the dark of the night, the old building nestled beneath the surrounding skyscrapers, bringing to mind another passage from A Christmas Carol, when Dickens describes Scrooge’s home: ‘He lived in chambers which had once belonged to his deceased partner. They were a gloomy suite of rooms, in a lowering pile of building up a yard, where it had so little business to be, that one could scarcely help fancying it must have run there when it was a young house, playing at hide-and-seek with other houses, and forgotten the way out again.’

I returned to my room and spent the rest of the evening watching television, before falling asleep. On Saturday I have the larger part of the day to myself, so will have the opportunity to indulge in some more nostalgia in Minneapolis.

Two Nights at Highclere

Tags

A Christmas Carol, A Christmas Carol film, Charles Dickens, Downton Abbey, Highclere Castle, The Café Royal

My final week of performing continued on Monday, just a week after returning from America, with the first of two performances at the magnificent Highclere Castle.

I had left my hotel in York at around 9am and with a decent drive I managed to get home for some lunch and time with with the family (the latter having been a rarity over the previous month), but at 2.15 it was time to get back into the car and head to the beautifully castellated and be-towered cuboid home that in real life is the home of Lord and Lady Carnarvon, and in fiction is the ancestral home of the Crawley family in the guise of Downton Abbey.

I first performed at Highclere two years ago, and the event had been a great success, but sadly one that we couldn’t repeat in ’20, for obvious reasons, but in 2021 Lady Carnarvon was anxious to celebrate Christmas well in the old house and booked me for a double stint, with shows on both Monday and Tuesday.

As the sun lowered in the sky I turned into the long driveway and was delighted when a security guard flagged me down and cheerily said ‘Hello Mr Dickens, just follow the road up to the front door where you can unload!’ so I swept into the large gravel area in front of the house and pulled up outside the great front door (such a spacious area deserves a good ‘sweep’). As I opened the car door I was cheerily greeted by John, the Castle Manager, who opened the large front door for me, and helped me load my things in to the Saloon, the great space, dominated by a huge Christmas tree, which forms the heart of the house and where I would be performing.

Two years ago a decent sized stage had been erected in front of the huge stone fireplace, and that had been surrounded by around 80 seats. This year numbers had been reduced to 50, to allow guests to distance as they required, and about a metre had been lost from the stage, to allow more room between me and the front row. Once I had my furniture placed I could see that the performances this year were not destined to be terribly active ones, as I wasn’t going to have much room to move.

I chatted to John, and Charlotte, the events manager with whom I have been corresponding during the year, and ran through the running plan for the event (start at 5, interval at 5.45, 30-minute interval, second act at 6.15, finish at 7 and then join the guests for supper). I also ran through the sound queues with Charlotte, and then took myself off to one of the ‘back stage’ private rooms where I laid out my costumes and changed into costume.

As I sat waiting waiting for 5 pm to tick around an email came in from The Café Royal in the heart of London, where I was due to be performing on Wednesday evening, saying that it was with great reluctance that they had been forced to cancel the event, due to the fact that many of the guests had decided that they didn’t want to be with groups of people in the middle of London, where the Omicrom Variant of Covid had been spreading rapidly through the previous week. I had fully expected to loose some shows as the national situation worsened and there was always the possibility that the government would introduce tighter restrictions on events, and scupper the lot. If the Café Royal event was to be the only victim, then I would be relieved.

At 5 o’clock I made my way through the various corridors and met with John, who would be introducing me to the stage. All of the guests had arrived, had been given a welcoming glass of champagne and were now sat in the Saloon ready for the show. I made my way to the top of the staircase, and John walked onto the stage where he said a few words and then welcomed me. Charlotte brought the music cue in perfectly and I walked down the stairs, through the audience and up onto my little stage. To my left sat Liz and our good friends Nikki and Martin. Highclere generously offer me the opportunity of bringing guests to the show, and it was so nice to see ‘my team’ among the audience (this would be the first time that Liz has actually seen the show for two years, and the first time that Nikki and Martin had ever seen it, although Martin worked closely with me on the creation of the video version, which is once again available to rent – details at the end of the post).

Despite the lack of space to move, indeed maybe as a result of it, the show was a very good one, concentrating more on the storytelling aspect, rather than the brash theatricality. I could tell that the little pieces of knock-about business wouldn’t play well with this group, so I didn’t bother with encouraging them to gasp at Mrs Cratchit’s goose, or to sigh in delight when the pudding was produced, I just told the story, and the show was the better for it.

The interval came and went, and I was soon calling to the young boy from Scrooge’s window. When I finally wished everyone a ‘Happy Christmas’ (remembering that I was now in England), and left the stage, the applause echoed loudly around the old walls, and I returned to take my bows to all sides, indeed I was called back once more for a second round of bowing. It was a lovely and rewarding experience.

I hurried back to my dressing room where I changed into a jacket and tie, so that I could join Liz, Nikki and Martin in the festive marquee which had been erected in the courtyard at the rear of the house and where tables had been prepared for each individual bubble of audience members. The menu featured salmon and beetroot, delicious Scotch Eggs with golden yolks, a demitasse of mushroom soup, all finished up with a mince pie and a chocolate caramel cup. Glasses of champagne were regularly refilled, although with a drive ahead of us all, we had to decline further top-ups. This was a rather different dining experience to the various meals delivered to me by Uber Eats over the last few weeks!

It had been a lovely evening, made so much more special by having Liz and our friends there.

The following evening I was back at Highclere for the second show and this time as I drove up to the house there was a beautiful golden setting sun behind creating an image that would have had the film crews of Downton Abbey running for their cameras to capture.

I made my way back to the dressing room and discovered that the staff had brought in a hat stand and hung all of my costumes up for me, as well as laying my shoes neatly out. It was as if the butler had come in, which was rather grand.

The preparations for the show, and the show itself followed the same routine as the day before, although the audience were a little more restrained. On stage it is very difficult to judge how people are reacting when most of their faces are hidden behind masks, but it seemed as if everyone was having fun, and the enthusiastic applause at the end certainly backed up that supposition.

After I had taken my bows I changed and packed my things up, and returned to the Saloon. I was not joining the guests for dinner tonight, so once I had retrieved the car and brought it to the front door, I could load up and return home by 8 0’clock, where I could have a supper at home with Liz – a rare treat!

Highclere Castle is a truly wonderful venue to perform A Christmas Carol in and I am delighted that it has become a fixture on my UK tour.

For any of you who haven’t been able to see the show this year, or who need an extra fix, remember that my film version is available to rent, and you can access it through the following link

TO RENT GERALD DICKENS’ A CHRISTMAS CAROL: https://tinyurl.com/ychp7t3r

Winterthur

Tags

A Christmas Carol, A Christmas Carol film, Amish, Astor, Downton Abbey, Gap PA, HF DuPont, Highclere Castle, Intercourse PA, Netflix, Queen Elizabeth II, Rockerfeller, The Crown, Vanderbildt, Winterthur

In a normal year I would be reaching the last few venues of my tour and over the decades these have tumbled around the schedule in various orders, giving me plenty of choice as to which one to choose from my online memory feed. Today it is Winterthur in the tiny state of Delaware.

The Winterthur estate was originally built by HF DuPont, whose family owned most of Delaware thanks to the fortune amassed through, firstly, gunpowder and then latterly petrochemicals. Nowadays visitors flock to the property and take tours of the house, wondering at the magnificence of life in an age that boasted the Rockerfellers, the Vanderbilts and the Astors, as well as the DuPonts atop the rich lists.

Such is the popularity of Winterthur that it was necessary to build a visitor centre a short distance from the mansion to meet, greet and feed the thousands of guests who flocked there, and it is this building that becomes my home during two days each December. Like so many of my venues I have been visiting Winterthur for many years and have a close relationship with the excellent team there – Ellen, who runs my shows and Barbara, who is in charge of the well stocked shop and whose office I use as a changing room. That office is a real highlight of being at Winterthur as Barbara has the walls covered in little cartoons which always make me laugh.

A visit to Winterthur doesn’t start when I leave the car in the huge parking lot and make my way to the visitor centre, it begins early in the morning, usually in darkness, often in sleet, rain or snow, when I leave my previous venue which has tended to be The Country Cupboard in Lewisburg during recent years. I make my way back along the Susquehanna towards Harrisburg and from there towards Lancaster and into Amish country where rumbling trucks are replaced by fragile looking gigs pulled by ponies.

The icy crags of the Susquehanna valley give way to gently undulating fields studded with silos as I pass through the suggestively named Intercourse (the name most likely came from the fact that the village sits at a cross roads and was therefore a site for meeting and discussions – I was going to write ‘debate’ but feared I would mire myself even deeper into innuendo), and on towards Gap with its quirky lighthouse-shaped clock tower. It is always a happy drive and one that is invariably accompanied by my Christmas playlist.

I drive through Chad’s Ford and passed the Fairville Inn guest house, which is my extremely homely and comfortable lodgings, before crossing the line from Pennsylvania into Delaware and turn off the road to make my way along the serpentine driveway which leads me ‘home’.

The actual venue for my shows is the Copeland Lecture Theatre, attached to the visitor centre, and which is one of the most remarkable rooms I have ever had the pleasure of performing in. It doesn’t have an impressive stage for it is very definitely a lecture theatre, it has some lighting but nothing really theatrical, it doesn’t have a balcony so the auditorium is very long. The hall has no particular history, and Charles Dickens never visited this area, so what makes the venue so special to me? A carefully designed and shaped ceiling, that’s what. The acoustics of The Copeland Lecture Theatre, created purely by the shape of the room, are beyond compare and I can speak in my normal voice from the stage and know that the people sat in the furthest reaches of the room can hear me quite clearly. It took me many years to have confidence in the room and many was the time that I would walk onto the stage and look at the sea of faces diminishing towards a far distant vanishing point and doubt that I could do the show without electronic aids, but I always can.

Of course a perfect hall is nothing without an enthusiastic audience, and the people who come to Winterthur in their Christmas sweaters and warm scarves are always a lively and fun bunch who join in loudly and applaud long.

One particular pleasure of my visits to the Winterthur estate has been the opportunity to view two amazing exhibitions of costumes. During the years that Downton Abbey was popular, Winterthur forged close ties with Highclere Castle (where I also perform), and welcomed Lady Carnarvon on a number of occasions to speak about ‘The Real Downton Abbey’. In 2014 a major exhibition of costumes from the series was opened and early one morning I was able to have a special tour. It was a brilliantly curated exhibit displaying each costume in front of still photography, copies of scripts and video clips. With the ending of Downton so Winterthur turned its attentions to the next big British drama and mounted another exhibition, this time featuring The Crown, Netflix’s drama based on the life of Queen Elizabeth II. Once again I was snuck in before opening and marvelled at the craftsmanship and accuracy of the beautiful creations, ranging from the coronation regalia to Princess Margaret’s swinging 60s dresses.

Maybe one day they will mount an exhibition of costumes from my show, although I do admit they will only need a very small room! At least in my film version of A Christmas Carol I wear two different waistcoats and two different cravats, but I grant you it may not be the most thrilling experience. Perhaps I should just stick to performing in The Copeland Hall where I hope to be in 2021.

To rent my film and to view BOTH costumes, go to: http://www.geralddickens.com/films.html

Returning to Highclere

Tags

A Christmas Carol, A Christmas Carol film, Downton Abbey, Highclere Castle, Lady Carnarvon, Lord Carnarvon, The Queen

To miss-quote the opening lines of Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca: ‘Yesterday I went to Highclere again’. Last December on a very wet night I performed at the magnificent ancestral home of the Carnarvon family for the first time and loved every second of what was an elegant and spectacular evening. The castle was fully decorated for Christmas and the great hall embraced the guests as if that was its sole purpose in life – to entertain and delight. Lord and Lady Carnarvon had erected a small stage in front of the huge stone fireplace and somehow had managed to squeeze 80 chairs around it, and as the audience arrived they were in their finery, as befitted such a venue and occasion.

The evening was a great success and Lady Carnarvon confidently announced that we would repeat the event in 2020….Ah, 2020. Of course all of the best laid plans were abandoned early this year and the thought of returning to Highclere Castle disappeared from my mind.

The great building came to my thoughts once more when I was thinking of locations to use for my film, but when a building has such clients as Downton Abbey beating a path to their door, the location costs would have been exorbitant and actually in retrospect, wouldn’t have provided suitable locations for the sparsity of the story – Highclere would have been too lavish for my version of A Christmas Carol.

However as the summer continued there was a call from Lady Carnarvon, asking if I would be available to join her at the Castle to recreate a little of my performance for a national television network who wanted to make a documentary about Christmas in one of England’s stately homes. I was happy to agree, even though this was not a fee paying event, for the relationship with the Carnarvons is so good and the opportunity to gain some exposure for both my live shows and the film was one I couldn’t turn down.

On Tuesday 24th November, just two days before the release of the film on Vimeo, I drove up the long driveway, taking the opportunity to stop and admire the great building against a beautiful late afternoon winter sky. The drive was lined with mini Christmas trees and two larger versions guarded the front door. I swung the car round on the gravel drive (I knew that this is how you are supposed to arrive as I’ve seen it done so many times before on Downton Abbey). Granted, the staff with Carson the butler at the centre, didn’t line up en masse to greet me, but the house manager John did fling open the door and welcome me back in cheerful, hearty tones. In fact my arrival was such a triumph that I had to repeat it three more times as the TV crew from ITN wanted to capture the moment from a few different angles.

The film crew was of two, Brent and Amy, who both dutifully wore masks as they trailed me around. When I finally entered I stood in the Great Hall of the house with a huge lavishly decorated Christmas tree soaring to the ceiling above me. It seemed extraordinary to me that a year ago we had fitted a stage and eighty people into what now looked like a very small space, but the memories of laughter and bonhomie waved over me as I surveyed the scene. Such was my wonder and such was the splendour that I surveyed the scene three more times, as Brent and Amy recorded it from a few different angles….

Lady Carnavon arrived and we greeted each other from the prescribed safe distance and then made our way into the Smoking Room where we were to record an episode of the Highclere Castle podcast which the Countess has been hosting since June. We sat in comfortable armchairs with the rolling landscape bathed in the glow of a winter’s sunset outside the windows. For such a large house some of the rooms, including the Smoking Room, are surprisingly intimate and it proved the perfect setting for our convivial chat. We talked about Christmas and Charles Dickens’ influence on it, as well as the heavy toll of the pandemic on both the entertainment and tourism sectors, and from there discussed how the lack of opportunities to perform in front of a live audience had presented other opportunities: cue promoting the film!

Having wrapped up the podcast recording it was time to prepare for a performance of a few extracts of A Christmas Carol to the massed audience of their Lord and Ladyship, John the manager, and their assistant Cat, who was also recording the snippets of show for an Instagram link. I was directed to my ‘dressing room’, which is in fact a spare room in the castle and in which I was surrounded by photographs of ‘Porchie’, Henry George Reginald Molyneux Herbert to give him his full name, the 7th Earl of Carnavon, to give his him his title – the Queen of England’s trusted confidante and horse racing trainer.

Once I was nearly changed there was a knock at the door and the voice of Brent asked if he could film me preparing for the show. I let him and Amy in and for the next 15 minutes or so I took cufflinks off and put them on again, took my cravat off and put it on again, took my watch out of the waistcoat pocket and studied it before replacing it, all whilst chatting about the experience of being at, and performing in, Highclere Castle.

Eventually we were ready to go. Lord and Lady Carnarvon settled themselves in two armchairs, whilst John hovered deferentially in the background and Cat set up her recording equipment. After a brief introduction by Lady Carnarvon I began.

Oh, it felt good! Oh, to move in that space saying the lines, creating the poses, telling the story. As I performed I could feel the room full of twelve months before, hear the laughter, see the tears. The idea was to perform very short snippets but I just didn’t want to stop and carried on throughout the first scene until nephew Fred leaves Scrooge’s office on Christmas Eve: complete self-indulgence.

I was more restrained for my second piece, the appearance of The Ghost of Christmas Present represented by the magnificent tree, and for a final clip I performed the closing words of the story to neatly wrap everything up.

When Brent, Amy and Cat were happy we wrapped up the performance aspect of the afternoon and mingled while a bottle of Highclere champagne was produced and we all toasted to the strangest of Christmases.

Having posed with Lady C in front of the tree, keeping a strict two-bough distance (in line with government festive guidelines), I changed out of costume, collected my things and drove away into the night.

For a couple of hours I had been back doing what I should be doing at this time of year – performing. But as I drove a strange thought came to me and that was that in 2020 my show will probably be seen by more people than ever before because on 26th November, the day I would usually be flying into Boston, to begin the final weeks of my tour, my film of A Christmas Carol will finally go live!

Film Link: Films (geralddickens.com)

Lady Carnarvon’s Podcast: Lady Carnarvon launches new Podcast | Highclere Castle