Toasting the End of 2022 Part 1

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Brazilian GP, Brit's Pub, Chanhssen Arboretum, Charles Dickens, George Russell, Llandrindod Wells Victorian Festival, Loring Park, Mannies, Minneapolis, Music Box Theater, Nicholas Nickleby, The Hen House, The Minneapolis Club, The News Room, Wesley Center

Sunday began extremely well for me, with my Wordle puzzle being solved in 2! My standard score at this game is 4, over my time of searching for 5-letter words I have achieved this 92 times, whereas yesterday’s score was only the 5th time I have managed to do it in 2 lines, so it was definitely worthy of celebration.

With a six-hour difference between Minnesota and England, I took the opportunity of making a What’sApp video call to home and spent a lovely time chatting to Liz and the girls. It is always difficult for Liz when I am away (it is hard enough when we are both at home!), and it was good to catch up.

At the Minneapolis Club there is no breakfast served on a Sunday morning and the staff had delivered a small continental affair of some cereal pots, a muffin and a bottle of orange juice, but I had noticed a diner across the street called the Hen House, which looked to be a fun, lively place, so I decided to have my breakfast there instead. I don’t know how long the Hen House has been open, but it feels as if it should have the title of ‘A Minneapolis Institution’. All of the servers wore T shirts which showed a fake dictionary definition: ‘HAN-GRY – An irritable state of mind, that can only be cured by eating at HEN HOUSE eatery’. I chose a plate of 2 eggs, sunny-side up, bacon, hash browns and toast, which was delivered swiftly, and was delicious. I saved a slice of toast until last, and asked for some jelly to go with it (remembering to speak American) and was delighted when I was given a little pot of genuine strawberry preserve to spread. A particularly fine breakfast all in all!

Back to the club and I had a little time before the matinee performance, so I decided to walk around the city again, to get some cold, crisp, fresh air into my lungs. I wrapped up in scarf, hat and gloves, and strode out into the empty streets. My first destination was Lund’s grocery store, which I know well from my brief time living in the city, for I wanted to pick up a salad for my lunch. Lund’s is great, with the fresh produce immaculately displayed, and soon as I was at the salad bar loading up a plastic box with a dairy-free collection, and a Balsamic and oil dressing over it. I also bought a cheeky slice of apple pie, which I would save until after the show.

From Lund’s I took a stroll through Loring Park and past the two apartment blocks where I lived, as well as the venues in which I performed – The Music Box Theater and The Wesley Center where the two runs of ‘To Begin With’ were staged. Wallowing in happy memories and nostalgia I walked back to the club, and settled in to watch coverage of The Brazilian Grand Prix (the actual race being shown on the ABC network, which the club does have). I sat on the sofa and ate my salad, which was delicious, and watched as the young English driver George Russell won took his first victory in Formula 1 – it is always great to see a driver win for the first time, and he fully deserved it.

During the race I had a message from Jeff asking me to pop down so that he could introduce me to his colleague Heather who would be running the sound effects for the show, as he needed to be elsewhere. We had a brief chat and then I returned to my room, while she made preparations for receiving the guests. Back upstairs I made another call home to say goodnight – our eldest is going off on an adventure trip to Wales early on Monday morning, so I wanted to say goodbye to her, whilst our youngest was ready for bed and read me a story, which was wonderful – it will be great to be back home again on Tuesday.

At around 1.30 I started to get into costume, making sure that I had everything I needed – hat, scarf, cane, penny-piece in my pocket, and sucked on a Fisherman’s Friend throat lozenge, not because I felt a need for it, but because that is part of my final thirty-minute build up to every show. Venues, timings and audiences may be different, but I can find a sense of security by following a regular countdown. I made my way down to the library, where the audience was already gathered, and Heather was ready to make her introductory remarks. I waited outside the door, in the large hall area and when she started the sound cue, I slowly walked up the short aisle to begin.

Once again it was not an easy show, the audience were quiet, although they joined in with the Cratchit’s lunch enthusiastically. I have actually noticed this before with Minnesotan audiences in the past, they can be quite reserved and, well, almost British, dare I say? The show ran its course, and Heather did a great job on the sound effects, and as before I returned to the stage to take questions after the final applause had died away. Again, there were some good ones, the most interesting being ‘which modern author has the same influence as Charles Dickens?’. My answer to this is that whoever it is probably isn’t an author, as Dickens used the best available outlet to spread his characters, stories and social concerns across the globe – today he, or his counterpart, would use social media. electronic media, television and film to achieve the same ends. I believe that Charles Dickens should not be regarded as just an author, but as a global communicator

The session finished and I took another round of applause, before stepping down from the little stage and leaving the room. As on the night before I chatted with the audience as they left, and signed a couple of books, before breaking away to chat with Peggy Johnson and her family, who I had spied at the back of the crowd during the show. I first met Peggy goodness how many years ago at a show in Wisconsin, and over the years she has brought me back to the Minneapolis area to perform in various venues, including the amazing arboretum at Chanhassen, in 2016, when Liz was able to be with me. We chatted for a while about this and that, and it transpired that Peggy had been in Wales during the Summer with her daughter and had noticed that I was appearing at Llandrindod. They had briefly thought about coming to the show and surprising me there, but the timing of their visit didn’t quite work out. It was even more frustrating for her; in that the show she really wants to see me perform is Nicholas Nickleby which is what I had been doing in Wales! Peggy still has ideas to bring me back to the Twin Cities again and hopes that we can do a summer performance in an open-air setting, which would be great fun.

It was time to say goodbye and the formal part of my mini-tour was complete. I went up to my room on the 4th floor, changed and ate my apple pie, before resting for a while, indeed I fell to sleep on the bed for an hour or so. As darkness descended outside, I began to think about dinner, I had decided to treat myself to a celebratory meal, and had checked on two local restaurants – The News Room and Mannies Steak House, both of which would be open on a Sunday night, according to the Google Map app on my phone. At around 7pm I wrapped up against the cold and walked to The News Room first, which was busy and lively, but the hostess at the door informed me that the kitchen was shut, although I was welcome to have a drink at the bar. Answering my enquiry as to what time they had closed for food she answered, ‘Oh we kind of play it by ear, see what’s happening’. Oh well, there was always Mannies: dark, locked, closed. Nothing for it but to return to Brit’s Pub once again, where a trivia night was in full swing, the theme of which was Pokémon, and I can honestly say the questions may as well have been written in Greek for all I understood them. I ordered a Cornish Pasty, served with rich beef gravy and fries, with a rather unnecessary salad on the plate, and toasted the end of my trip.

On leaving Brit’s I crossed a plaza already brightly lit for Christmas, and walked the few blocks, through the quiet streets, back to the club where I settled in for my final night in The Twin Cities.

If it’s August it must be…..

Tags

Charles Dickens, Llandrindod Wells Victorian Festival, Mr Dickens is Coming!, Nicholas Nickleby

There are certain events in my schedule that mark the never-changing progress of the year – some are important dates for their historical significance and may, or may not, be linked to a performance (specifically February 7 and June 9 being the dates on which Charles Dickens was born and died respectively). The great Dickens Festival in Rochester is always held at the end of the spring half term, whilst Thanksgiving Day in America sees the start of my main tour of the United States. But there is another event, without which my year would seem fractured and incomplete: the Victorian Festival in the Welsh spa town Llandrindod Wells, which takes place during the second half of August.

I was introduced to Llandrindod many years ago by my good friend David Hawes who, although based in Kent, worked with the festival organisers to bring a flash of pizzazz and theatricality to the event. David has always been a great champion of my work and many of my current venues are thanks to his influence and powers of persuasion. Back in 2014 he looked at the Llandrindod festival programme and reckoned that one of my shows would fit in well, so he made sure that the committee booked me to perform at the perfectly named ‘Albert Hall’

I took to the festival straight away and have been returning ever since, meaning that August wouldn’t be August without driving to mid-Wales. Like so many events the LLandrinod festival suffered greatly during the two Covid years, but this year it was back – alive and kicking. The event has relied for many years on a group of both locals and visitors gathering, dressing in Victorian costumes and attending a series of themed events, talks and shows. The town boasts a wonderful small green, complete with a bandstand, and this has become the focus of the activities. In past years there has been a small funfair, a craft fair and some sideshows to provide entertainment for the locals who may have otherwise felt excluded. This year the committee had included a series of non-Victorian events to further boost the appeal, including concerts featuring Dolly Parton, Tom Jones and Witney Houston tribute acts (not to mention that well known Charles Dickens tribute…I must think of a suitable pun-laden name for my act). At the town’s large lake, nestling in the valley, a series of children’s piratical adventures was laid on, featuring treasure hunts and it seemed to me that the town itself was beginning to once more embrace the festival, meaning it was no longer the sole preserve of the stalwarts, although they still are very much the core and beating heart of the event.

My show at The Albert Hall was to be staged on Tuesday night and this year I had been asked to perform a double bill of Mr Dickens is Coming! followed by The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby. These two shows were the first that I wrote back in ’95 and ’96 and whilst I have already performed Mr Dickens is Coming a few times this year, I have not revisited Nickleby for a long time and it was with great pleasure that I spent the days preceding my trip going through the lines and finding that they came back to me with a minimum of effort – not just the lines, but the timing, nuances and movements too.

My drive from Oxford to Powys took me on motorways at first, but in no time I was on smaller roads, driving through picturesque villages. Shortly after passing Tenby Wells I realised that the car was in need of fuel and so I stopped at a small filling station. In fact I queued at the small filling station, for the price of a litre of Unleaded was £1.62, by far the lowest I had seen since the prices were coming down from their £2.00 peak of a few weeks before, and obviously people were coming from miles around to avail themselves of a bargain top up. I took the opportunity of the stop to buy a sandwich for my lunch, and I chose a magnificent door-stop cheese and pickle example. This wasn’t a typical pre-packed, limp, flabby, sweaty sandwich, such as you might expect to find in a petrol station, oh no, this had been lovingly built by hand by someone who wanted to make sure that drivers didn’t go hungry!

Shortly after finishing my sandwich I decided that I fancied a cup of coffee, maybe a slice of cake, and I was pondering where best to purchase these items when I saw brown tourist signs for the National Trust property Croft Castle. ‘Well,’ I thought, ‘I have a National Trust membership card, so I wont have to pay an entrance fee, and the property is sure to have a tea room, so why not give myself a little treat?’ I was not disappointed, for the tea room served up an excellent slice of coffee and walnut, and the setting was fabulous.

I stretched my legs by walking to the ‘castle’ itself and admiring the views, before returning to my car and completing the journey through the gorgeous Welsh scenery

I arrived in Llandrindod at around 3pm and checked into my home from home in the town, The Portland Guest House where I settled into the room I always have on the very top floor. I lay on the bed, watched a little cricket on the television and had a short nap before it was time to shower and make my way to the theatre – a drive of 0.1 mile, which took me maybe less than a minute. I unloaded my various props, and with the assistance of theatre manager Ben carried them to the stage.

It was at this point that I realised that I had left my top hat and walking cane at home. These items do not have a huge role in the show, in fact they only appear in a single scene very early on in Mr Dickens is Coming to create the jaunty demeanour of Mr Micawber, who uses the cane to as a metaphoric set of scales to measure the happiness or misery of his income. The show can be played without these simple items, but it would be a shame, and as the large majority of the audience would be in costume, I reckoned that I may be able to borrow a hat and cane from somewhere: I asked Ben to make appropriate enquiries on my behalf.

I had plenty of time to prepare, for the show wasn’t due to start until 8pm, although some of the audience arrived expecting a 7.30 curtain up. Having carefully set the stage I ran through parts of both shows, until the first of the public began to arrive, festival regulars in full costume, and having said a few hellos I made my way back to the dressing room, where I changed into costume and waited. As time passed Ben appeared holding a hat which he had commandeered. No cane yet, he was working on it!

I could hear the audience gathering and eventually, with ten minutes to go, a walking cane appeared too: I was ready to go.

At 8 o’clock Queen Victoria (aka my good friend Rita) made her entrance and the whole audience were asked to stand as she processed to her front row seat, as I stood waiting in the wings, desperate to get going (I am like a caged beast in those last minutes before a show starts, pacing to and fro waiting to be released). When the Queen was seated Ben faded the houselights to black and then illuminated the stage and I walked on to a round of applause. The Albert Hall could really have been built to suit my style of shows – the size and elegance of the auditorium and the imposing and powerful height of the stage, makes it perfect for me. Mr Dickens is Coming went well, getting laughs at the right moments, and I was very careful with the top hat (a particularly fine vintage example), and cane during the Micawber section, but as I made my way into the sinuous, repulsive Uriah Heep passage and then to the exhausting sword fight of The Bagman’s Uncle (masquerading as a 1960’s James Bond movie), I threw everything into the show.

At the interval I waited until most of the audience had left the auditorium then changed the furniture round in readiness for Nicholas Nickleby (not a huge set change, it must be said, just changing the red reading desk from stage left to stage right, and moving the chair from stage right to stage left.) I made sure that various prop letters that are needed for Nickleby were where they should be, and then waited until the Queen returned and I could begin once more.

As I had discovered during my rehearsals Nickleby came back to me as if I had been performing it regularly all season and I had lots of fun leaping from character to character. I used a slightly different voice for Ralph Nickleby, making him a little older than he used to be, but it didn’t go well as my throat began to tighten, so I reverted back to a safer option for the balance of the show.

The story raced from Devon to London to Yorkshire back to London to Portsmouth back to London again and finally to Devon once more before reaching its conclusion over Smike’s grave. I left the stage and returned to take my bows as the audience applauded my efforts. It had been a fun night.

As soon as I was off stage I began packing up my costumes and props as the 8.00pm start time meant that it was late, and I had dinner to enjoy yet. Ben and the rest of the Albert Hall Crew helped me load my car up and I drove back to the Portland from where I walked back to John Abell’s home where we traditionally have a late night Chinese take away in the company of his mum Julie, and this year we were joined by Marina from the festival committee and her daughter Mia. We tucked into the meal, drank some champagne that John had bought for us, and finished off with chocolate brownies. There was lots of chat about films, running, the festival and various other topics, and it was a perfect way to wind down after such an energetic and exciting evening.

It was late when I walked back to Portland but even then the adrenaline was still keeping me awake so I switched on the television and found an old episode of Inspector Morse. I knew it was time to turn the lights out when the murderer was revealed and I hadn’t realised that anyone had yet been murdered!

On Wednesday morning I woke to find the town wrapped in cloud with a wet drizzle soaking everything, this was a pity for I’d planned to head up into the hills and play some golf that morning. I went downstairs to breakfast and devoured bacon, sausage, egg and toast and as I ate, the skies seemed to brighten a little and I decided to go ahead with my original plan after all.

Llandrindod Wells golf club is a lovely course which I have played on a number of occasions and the weather Gods welcomed me as I pulled into the car park, for the clouds disappeared and revealed a blue sky behind. I was greeted by the club pro Phil Davies, and we chatted for a while about the festival and Charles Dickens, before I set off on my morning’s adventure. The course is very hilly, especially over the first 4 holes as they rise up to the highest point, and I asked Phil if I could rent an electric trolley for my heavy golf bag. I have not used one before and it took me a while to get used to the controls – at first I had the speed setting too high and the thing flew off up the course dragging me behind it. I would have reduced the setting if I’d bothered to ask how to do that, but I had no idea how to control the thing as it threatened to pull my arm from its socket. Eventually I discovered a little dial on the handle and my journey up the mountainside became more sedate.

The round of golf was wonderful and I actually had the course to myself for the morning. The scenery surrounding me was stunning, the air was clear and little swifts swooped around me as I walked.

I actually played very well until the last few holes when maybe the effects of the show took their toll, but for whatever reason I rather lost focus and talent at the same time, but it didn’t spoil what had been a great morning.

I had one more commitment at the festival and that was to attend a strawberry and champagne picnic on the green. I asked Phil if I could change in the golf club’s locker room, and he asked if I would pose on the course in costume, which I was delighted to do. I even tried a drive from the first tee but my frock coat didn’t allow for me to swing properly and the ball bobbled embarrassingly before coming to rest a few yards in front of me. Phil very kindly said it looked as if I had a good swing!

Back down in town I made my way to the green where another of the costumed ladies was setting up her champagne table. Joyce has always put this event on, she brings all of the champagne and punnets of strawberries; It is her gift to all of those who make the festival such fun. Over the last year Joyce has been through many difficult times and it was doubtful whether she would be attending this year, but just a week before she announced that she would be present and the reception would be on!

At 1 o’clock the costumed folk began to gather and set up tables for their picnics. linen cloths were laid, teapots filled, china cups and saucers laid and cake stands filled – it was so splendidly British!

Marie, another regular visitor, helped Joyce set up and when the ‘bar’ was complete Joyce looked as if all the woes of the world had left her and she looked genuinely happy with a beaming smile. We all had a glass of champagne (fortunately there was a non alcoholic version that I could drink) and we all toasted to happy times.

And that was the end of my 2022 visit to Llandrindod Wells. I said my goodbyes and set off back to Oxfordshire. I have left in previous years wondering if the festival could survive and not sure if I would be returning, but this year it seemed in rude health indeed and the future looks bright!

Hitchin

Tags

Charles Dickens, Great Expectations, Llandrindod Wells Victorian Festival, Nicholas Nickleby, The Market Theatre Hitchin

On Tuesday 5 July my fairly intense tour came to an end, and appropriately it was with the same show that I started with back in May – Great Expectations. In the intervening weeks I have travelled to ten venues up and down the country (and one in Germany), performing six different scripts along the way.

My final venue of this tour was the Market Theatre in Hitchin, which, in pre-Covid days, was a regular summer stop for me. The theatre is in the very heart of Hitchin, just off the old market square, and shares a car park with a large and very popular pub. In previous years, it seems to me, I have always visited on the hottest day of the Summer and often when the England football team are playing a match, meaning that The Sun Hotel is packed with well lubricated football supporters chanting and shouting and cheering and groaning, which hasn’t always proved to be the perfect backing soundtrack to my shows. This year, although hot, it was by no means unbearable and the 2022 World Cup Football Tournament, which would normally be played in the Summer, has been scheduled for November to avoid the extreme temperatures in Qatar, and the Women’s European Cup had not yet begun, so the stars were much better aligned for me.

I arrived at 5 O’clock and was greeted by Glyn, the theatre manager, who unlocked the doors so that I could unload. The Market Theatre is a small venue, converted from a couple of old industrial units. There are two performance spaces, some meeting rooms and an upstairs bar, and the whole place has a very friendly atmosphere. Unloading the car couldn’t have been easier, as the auditorium has a side door which opens onto the car parking area, so I could simply carry everything straight onto the stage. The fact that Great Expectations has a relatively small set helped too.

The first thing to be done for Great Ex is to ‘create’ Miss Havisham in the upstage left corner of the stage. When I adapted Dickens’s 13th novel I decided that I wanted to have the jilted spinster who has such an influence on Pip to be permanently looking over him. I achieve this effect by means of dressing a white hat stand with draped fabrics creating the hint of a human shape. The great thing about this stage of my preparations is there is no ‘set’ way of doing it, so I never quite know how she is going to look on any given evening. On Tuesday she looked stately and severe, which is a good look!

The stage at The Market is small, but Glyn had studied my script and managed to provide me with distinct lighting areas to suggest different locations within the story: the graveyard on the marshes, the forge, Satis House, Jaggers’ chambers and Mr Wemmick’s castle. Fortunately the theatre has recently invested in LED lights, so colours can be changed as the plot demands, meaning that we could play with the atmosphere of each scene also.

When everything was set I retired to the dressing room behind the stage (actually a space that also encompasses a set store and workshop) and tucked into a small salad that I had brought with me. As 6 became 6.30 and moved on towards 7 I played a little Backgammon on my phone as well as watching the news, and so learned of the seismic shift that was beginning in the British political scene as two senior members of the Conservative Party resigned.

I had to get my mind back to the job in hand, as the audience were now arriving and taking their seats, and I paced around in the first costume of the show – the breeches and rough shirt that represent both the appearance of Magwitch and the young Pip in the forge.

At 7.30 Glyn popped his head into the dressing room to check that I was ready, and then disappeared back to the little technical box, where he brought the lights down to an icy, chilly blue, and played my first voiceover, the famous narration that sets the scene in the little churchyard on the edge of the marshes (incidentally, the inspiration for the churchyard in the novel is Cooling Church, where I filmed much of my A Christmas Carol video two years ago).

I bounded onto the stage ‘Hold your noise!’ and so the plot was underway.

I am never certain as to how well Great Expectations will be received, as it is quite a wordy and heavy show, but I am constantly pleasantly surprised by the reaction, and this occasion proved to be no different, for when I reached the end of the first act there was a loud round of applause and lots of talking, which is always a good sign.

I changed from the rough working Pip into the smart London Pip and then slipped onto the stage to clear various items of costume that get discarded through the first half, as well as a scattered pack of playing cards, and I was ready to go again.

Once again Glyn popped in and once again he disappeared to start the Act 2 voiceover which sets the plot firmly in London, and therefore starts Pip’s second stage of his Expectations.

The second act ran as smoothly as the first and Glyn did a wonderful job with the lighting at the point when Miss Havisham’s dried clothes catch fire and consume her in flame. From there the narrative rushes on towards the end as the various plotlines are resolved. I was very pleased with the show and it was a wonderful way to bring my tour to a close.

When the audience had left I loaded the car up once more, said my goodbyes and set off for the drive home. Usually after a show I stay at a hotel close by, meaning that I do not run the risk of falling asleep at the wheel on my way home, for once the adrenaline generated by the thrill of performance subsides, fatigue comes quickly, but on this occasion I wanted to get home so as to be able to watch our daughters’ school sports day the next morning.

The drive was about 90 minutes, and sure enough I did feel drowsy as I drove on, but plenty of water and a few sweets kept me going until I pulled up outside my front door at around 11.30.

It has been an exciting couple of months and I have been fortunate to perform in a marvellous variety of venues, from a tiny yurt in Rochester to the splendour of Wentworth Woodhouse.. The audiences have been plentiful, amazingly supportive and enthusiastic. I have performed for old friends as well as a number of new venues all of which I hope will become a regular part of my travels in the future.

Actually, I was not quite finished, for there was one final venue to perform at, and that was at home. On the 16th of July the Dickens Fellowship is holding its annual conference. Originally we were all due to travel to Haarlem, on the outskirts of Amsterdam, but sadly that event was cancelled and so the conference is being held online instead. I have been asked to give a reading from David Copperfield featuring the plotlines involving the Peggotty’s, Steerforth’s elopement with Little Em’ly and the great storm scene (the conference theme being ‘Dickens and the Sea’) Sadly, I am not going to be available to perform ‘live’, but have said that I shall record the reading at home so that it can be played at the appropriate point in proceedings.

With the house to myself on Friday I originally planned to film in our garden office, sat behind a desk with the laptop close to capture every expression. The room was extremely hot and as I was only going to be seen from waist up there didn’t seem to be much point in wearing the thick Victorian trousers, and so it was that if anyone had been watching they would of seen an odd sartorial display, featuring a frock coat, waistcoat and cravat topping off a rather lurid pair of checked shorts!

In the end the lighting in the shed wasn’t right, for as branches briefly obscured the sunlight, so the built-in camera struggled to compensate meaning that my face was one minute flaring brightly as if it were on fire, and then fading almost into darkness. I moved my ‘set’ inside and recorded the reading a couple of times until I was happy with the result, and then sent it off to the conference organisers.

And now I have a period of rest, my next performance coming in August when I return to the beautiful spa town of Llandrindod Wells in Wales, where I will be performing The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby, which I haven’t done for years…now, where did I leave that script………?