Beginning a Tour of the North

Tags

A Christmas Carol, A Christmas Carol film, Charles Dickens, Dickens and Staplehurst. A Biogrpahy of a Rail Crash, Ebenezer Scrooge, Spygate, The Literary and Philosophical Society, The Word

I arrived back home from Minneapolis on Tuesday morning and on Thursday morning, after just one full day at home, it was time to set off on my travels once more. My first UK venue of the season was to be at The Lit and Phil society in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, a drive of about 4 1/2 hours. When I came to load, I had to think carefully about what I needed for my shows, as I have become used to turning up to a venue in America and having the set all laid out for me. As I was about to drive away, I took one final look at the load and was worried that I didn’t seem to have enough equipment and realised that I had omitted to put the hat rack in, so I went back to the house and fetched it. Hmmm, it still didn’t look right, so I did a mental skim through the script, and discovered that I hadn’t put the little table in either. Back to the prop store to liberate the table and at last I was on my way.

The weather on Wednesday was foul and the whole drive was carried out in heavy heavy rain, with patches of the road flooded with standing water. To pass the time I discovered a new 8-part podcast about a particular scandal in Formula One racing, dating back to 2007, when one team illegally obtained a complete dossier about a competitor’s car design. The scandal only came to light because the designer of the team with the stollen information sent his wife to a high street copy-shop where she asked them to photocopy the entire 780 pages of information. Unfortunately for her, and the designer, the man who ran the copy shop happened to be a fan of the aggrieved team and emailed them, setting in place the course of events that became known, unimaginatively, as ‘Spygate’.

Newcastle is in the far Northeast of England, so my journey took me through the whole range of countryside that the country has to offer. Earlier in the week my brother and I were discussing the question ‘where does the north begin?’ For my part I always think that when I get to Derby I am in the north of England.

I arrived at my hotel, the Sleeperz at 3.30, which gave to me 90 minutes to relax before I needed to be at the venue, the Literary and Philosophical Society, a very fine and historic library in the heart of the city. I have been performing for the Lit and Phil for the last 5 years, or so, and the routine is a familiar one. The only parking for the hotel is on the street, but fortunately the library itself is only a few doors away, so I did not have to move the car when it was time to leave. I left my room to get into the lift and for a moment forgot that I was back in the UK, rather than in America, for I automatically hit ‘1’ and was surprised when the doors opened into a corridor of rooms – in England the bottom floor, or lobby. level is called the Ground Floor, whereas the 1st floor, is actually the 2nd. In America, of course, the ground floor is the first, and the 2nd is the 2nd. I don’t know why I should have been confused

I walked to the car, unlocked the boot and started to unload the props in the pouring rain and. After three or four trips everything was inside. I was greeted by a poster for my show with the very happy tidings ‘SOLD OUT’ stuck across it.

I laid out my set on the floor, there not being a stage, and as is tradition we played around with various combinations of overhead florescent tubes and standard lamps to create some sort of theatrical atmosphere. The room at The Lit and Phil is not a particularly atmospheric one, but the shows here have always worked very well there, with the enthusiastic Newcastle audience bringing it to life.

When everything was set, and before the audience arrived, I popped to the loo, in which there was a notice pinned to the wall: ‘Please do NOT empty the basin when the urinal is flushing. Thank you.’ Goodness, what would happen? The sign had the sort of effect on me that a large red button bearing the legend ‘UNDER NO CIRCUSMTANCES PRESS THIS BUTTON’ You just have to, don’t you? There is an inner curiosity to do the complete opposite, despite the warnings. Fortunately, for the continued stability of the Lit & Phil building, I managed to conquer my rebellious nature and did NOT empty the basin while the urinal was flushing.

I settled myself into my dressing room, actually a large meeting room with a large table, and spent some time going over the extra lines for the 2-act version of A Christmas Carol which I will be performing later in the week. There are not too many additions, but Marley gets a little extra time to tell us that he only has little time and cannot stay, rest or linger. When Scrooge first stands in the snow with the Ghost of Christmas Past, he sees his school friends making their way home and he recognises them all, feeling strangely moved to see and hear them wish each other ‘Merry Christmas!’ There is an extra scene at the school, in which Scrooge’s little sister bounds in, and there are a few extra lines at the start of the second act, when Scrooge wakes expecting to see the second spirit. The wisdom of learning lines that I was not about to use may be debatable, but I was confident that I would be able to perform the very familiar 1 act version without a problem. I also attached black Velcro strips to my frock coat, as I did last year, so that I could create a fully black creature, with no gold waistcoat showing, when the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come makes his first appearance.

I could hear the audience arriving and just before 7pm there was a knock on the door, and it was time to make my way to the back of the room. As I mentioned earlier, the Lit and Phil audiences are always excellent, and this year was no exception. The show went really well, with lots of reaction, leading to a very noisy standing ovation at the end. I took my bows and then lingered in the large room through which the audience exited to chat and answer questions. I had copies of ‘Dickens and Staplehurst’ as well as the DVD version of ‘A Christmas Carol’, and both sold well. It was lovely to discover that there were audience members who had seen me perform at The Word on South Tyneside (the same has been the case the other way round), meaning that although geographically the venues are fairly close, they actually support each other.

When the audience had left I changed and loaded up the car (it was still raining hard), and strolled back to my hotel, where I ordered my supper from a local Chinese restaurant and twenty minutes later an Uber Eats courier delivered it to me. I ate in my room and then after a long, but successful, day went to sleep knowing that I had a quite relaxing day ahead of me on Friday.

A Debut for a Waistcoat

Tags

Abel Magwitch, Anthony Gormley, Castleford, Charles Dickens, Fire, Gateshead, Great Expectations, Jury's Inn, Just Giving, Miss Havisham, Mr Dickens is Coming, Newcastle, Oxford Half Marathon, Pip, The Angel of the North, The Word, waistcoats

As summer turns to autumn my thoughts turn to a series of trips to America, but before I fly to Jacksonville on Thursday, I had one performance in Britain. I was returning to The Word, the magnificent National Centre for the Written Word in the north eastern city of South Shields.

In a remarkable attempt at efficiency I had decided to load the car the day before and had even created a spreadsheet with all of the props and costume pieces that I would need listed and a little check box waiting to be ticked next to each. I was due to perform Great Expectations and of all my major shows this one probably has the smallest set, meaning that packing the car is a relatively quick process, albeit one that always leaves me with the feeling that I have forgotten something. But, I had checked all of the boxes on my list, so it was all OK.

South Shields is tucked away in the far North Eastern corner of England, not far from the Scottish border, indeed just over the River Tyne is the town of Wallsend which marks the end (and also, presumably, the beginning) of Hadrian’s Wall. The drive from Oxford is around 4 1/2 hours, and allowing for a couple of stops for lunch and leg stretching I needed to get on the road at about 10.am.

Last time I drove to The Word I suffered a puncture within 20 minutes of starting and had to carry out a tyre change in the darkness and rain, so I was relieved that this year the journey was smooth and adventure-free. I listened to some podcasts and coverage of the morning practice sessions from the latest Grand Prix weekend, and in between took the time to run the lines of Great Ex. which still resolutely refuse to permanently in the way that the words of A Christmas Carol and Mr Dickens is Coming! do.

I stopped for lunch at a motorway service station and as I returned to the car I thought I would just check my costumes, which were hanging over the passenger seat, and to my horror I realised that I had failed to include a fancy waistcoat, despite ticking the relevant box. The costumes of Great Expectations lead from ragged at the opening (representing the convict Abel Magwitch and the Spartan life of the Gargery family in their tiny forge,) to a slightly old fashioned tail coat in which young Pip is sent to meet the intimidating Miss Havisham. At the end of the first act Pip is informed that he is to receive a huge income and be raised a gentleman by the largesse of an unknown benefactor (assumed to be Miss Havisham, of course) and at that point he changes into expensive and extravagant clothing.

As I drove on I debated as to how I could sort this problem out and decided I couldn’t really get away with wearing the very drab and plain waistcoat from the first act, so began looking for a shopping centre along the route where I could maybe find a store where I could purchase a fancy waistcoat – a wedding supplier would be perfect. In the end I found an outlet village in the Yorkshire town of Castleford and made my way in.

There used to be a television in the early 90’s programme called ‘Challenge Anneka’ in which the host, Anneka Rice, would leap out of a helicopter and try to find some equipment or products to complete the week’s challenge (usually refurbishing a community centre or school). She would run around shouting to anyone who happened to be present, ‘where can I find a timber merchant? Hello! can you help, I need a supply of timber, can you tell me where I need to go?’ and off she would run with camera crew in tow. Well, I felt a little in the same boat as I arrived at the crowded mall and I wanted to grab passers by and shout ‘Waistcoats, I need colourful waistcoats, help me, where is a waistcoat shop, can anyone help?’ Fortunately for the residents of Castleford the very first shop I saw was a men’s outfitters called Eden, and I thought I’d make a start there. At the very back of the shop I found a very smart double breasted waistcoat in a midnight blue with a pale check across it. Although not garish and bright, it exuded a sense of style and actually reminded me of one of the waistcoats that Dickens himself wore, and which was highlighted in the recent exhibition at The Charles Dickens Museum ‘Technicolour Dickens’.

Fortunately they had my size and, being an outlet centre, the price was very reasonable, so I bought it on the spot and resumed my journey north with a sense of relief.

I was due to stay in a hotel at Gateshead, on the banks of the Tyne, and just had time to check in , before continuing my journey along the river to arrive at the magnificent cylindrical building that houses The Word. I have performed at The Word on three previous occasions, so I know the form, which is to ignore all accepted traffic laws and drive up onto the pavement and park outside an anonymous looking door, through which my props can be easily carried to a lift. I was greeted by Pauline Martin and together we emptied the car before I could go and park a short distance away.

When I returned, Pauline had kindly loaded the lift and got everything to the top floor and all I had to do was to set the set, which involves draping and dressing a white hat stand to represent the figure of Miss Havisham and placing a few bits of furniture, as well as carefully leaving some items of costume on stage that are required during the first act (including my new waistcoat which was due to make its debut without rehearsal…).

It was an early start, 6.pm, and at 5.30 Pauline asked if she could let the public in and I retired to my little backstage store room to change and prepare for the show. From what I could hear there was a goodly-sized audience gathering and I was keen to begin. The problem with the room at The Word is that it is not a particularly theatrical space, especially as regards to lighting. Pauline had told me that when the building was built they had been promised spot lights, but that they have never materialised, meaning that the choice is strip lighting on, meaning my face is illuminated but so is the rest of the room, or strip lighting off, meaning that my face and figure is in shadow. We went for lights on.

At 6 o’clock I hid myself behind the stage and waited for the voiceover taken from the opening passages of the book to finish and then bounded onto the stage in the guise of Abel Magwitch: ‘Hold your noise, or I’ll slit your throat!’

Great Expectations takes quite a bit of concentration from the audience, and I am always a little concerned that it may not work, but the crowd in The Word followed every scene intently, meaning that I could tell the story without further worry. As I came towards the end of the first act I arrived at the moment when Pip has to change into his new smart London clothes, and so I picked up the new waistcoat. There was one problem in that whilst the fabric of the garment itself is suitably traditional, the lining is VERY garish and modern. This wouldn’t normally be a issue, but as I had to actually put the thing on, I couldn’t help the audience getting a glimpse of modernity. Maybe in the future I will get somebody to make a plain lining, but for now it did a good job and I was proud of its debut.

The end of the act arrived and the applause was long, loud and greatly appreciated. During the interval I changed properly (the ‘posh’ clothes are simply put on over the rough costume in the final scene of the act) and then snuck back to the stage as surreptitiously as I could, to remove a few props and discarded pieces of costume, before waiting for Pauline to give me the nod that Act 2 could begin.

The second half was as successful as the first and when I left the stage as Pip holding hands with Estella (my ending is based on Dickens’s second version, rather than on his terribly downbeat first attempt), the applause was once again very generous in both volume and longevity, and Great Expectations had hit the mark.

I took my bows and then changed and started to pack up my props and costumes. By the time I re-emerged onto the stage most of the audience had departed, but a few folk were still in the room and came up to chat, congratulate and pose for selfies before they headed down in the lift.

Various staff members at The Word helped me to get all of my stuff downstairs while I fetched the car and drove it up onto the pavement once more. I said my goodbyes (hopefully I will be back next year, possibly in March to celebrate World Book Day), and drove back to Jury’s Hotel in Gateshead.

The great thing about starting a show at 6pm was that the hotel restaurant was still serving food when I returned, and I was able to sit in the bar and have a piece of chicken roasted with lemon and thyme and wind down slowly.

I didn’t sleep terribly well through the night: fitful describes it, but towards morning I was beginning to doze off when suddenly the fire alarm went off screeching loudly in my room and flashing a red light, meaning I had to vacate the room, follow the green emergency exit signs and make my way down to the street with all of the other guests, where we waited for about half an hour as two fire engines arrived and investigated.

Fortunately there was no inferno, or even a smoulder, and we were allowed back to our rooms to catch a few more winks until the breakfast service began.

I treated myself to a ‘full English’ (ignoring mushrooms and black pudding) from the buffet and sat at a window seat looking over the Tyne towards the city of Newcastle on the opposite bank.

My fast suitably broken I packed up my bags and began the drive home, making sure I drove past Anthony Gormley’s amazing Angel of the North sculpture that towers over the A1 road. It is always a lovely experience to be in the North East and I shall be back in Newcastle in November to perform A Christmas Carol at The Literary and Philosophical Society.

And now thoughts turn to two important projects, the first being my trip to America during which I will mainly be performing the double bill of The Signalman and Doctor Marigold at a variety of venues. At my very last stop, however, I am due to perform A Child’s Journey With Dickens, and was able to ask the venue if I may share the stage with actor Jennifer Emerson. Jennifer and I gave a Zoom performance of the piece last year, during which she took the role of Kate Douglas Wiggin whilst I played Dickens, so I was especially keen to reprise our performance whilst actually being in the same room, city, state, country and continent!

The other event which is looming ever larger is the Oxford Half Marathon which is to be run on 16 October. I have been in training for a few months now, and need to make sure that my efforts don’t flag, even though I am travelling and performing. When our daughters go back to school next week I shall make sure I get a few runs in, and hopefully a few in America too, even if that means availing myself of treadmills in various hotel gyms.

You will remember that I am running the race to raise much needed funds for Brain Tumour Research, and as an extra event I have scheduled a performance of Mr Dickens is Coming on 7 October in my home town of Abingdon with all profits going to my JustGiving page.

Please do support me in my efforts, you can donate to the fund by following the link at the end of this post. I am so grateful to all of those who have donated already and am keen to raise as much as I can for a cause that has had such a big impact on the life of Liz and me this year.

I shall let you know how the training is going in another post soon.

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/geralddickens

Happy Birthday

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Bob Cratchit, Charles Dickens, Dickens and Staplehurst. A Biogrpahy of a Rail Crash, Ebenezer Scrooge, Jacob Marley, Mr Fezziwig, Saddleworth Moor, St George's Hall, The Custom House, The Tyne, The Word, York

Sunday19 December was a birthday. A 178th birthday. Charles Dickens first introduced the characters of Ebenezer Scrooge, Jacob Marley, Bob Cratchit and his family, the various ghosts, Belle, Fred and all of the others to the world on that date in 1843 and so began one of the most extraordinary literary success stories of all time, for the book has never been out of print from that day on.

My birthday celebrations began with an early breakfast at The Shankly Hotel in Liverpool, as I had to get onto the road by 9am for a drive across the country and north to Tynseside, leaving one great shipbuilding city on The Mersey and travelling to another on The Tyne.

The morning was a foggy one, a very foggy one, and all of the cars on that Sunday morning had both front and rear high intensity lights shining so that they glowed like, as Charles Dickens says, ‘ruddy smears on the palpable brown air’.

As the morning went on my route took me eastwards on the M62 and gradually the fog began to clear, and a bright morning sun shone to my right. I was listening to the coverage of the second cricket test match from Adelaide (a day-night match), and it was extraordinary to hear the commentators describe the sun setting in the west, while I watched the same celestial body rising in the east. The clearing of the weather had less to do with the fog lifting but more to do with my climbing to a greater altitude. Various signs informed me that I was crossing Saddleworth Moor, a name which strikes repulsion and loathing into British minds, but which is also one of the most beautiful tracts of countryside I have ever seen. The low-lying fog nestled in the valleys whilst the hills were illuminated in a golden morning glow. I drove onwards and upwards until another notice proclaimed that I was at the highest point on the UK motorway network meaning, inevitably, that I was soon descending back into the thick fog once more.

Eventually I joined the A1-M road, one of the main North-South routes, and I was back on familiar territory as I headed towards the North East.

I was due to perform at The Word – the National Centre of the Written Word, in South Shields, where I had last appeared at the end of October, just before my A Christmas Carol tour commenced. At that time I had been talking about my new book, Dickens and Staplehurst, as well as performing The Signalman, but I hadn’t yet received copies of the book from my publishers, so had none to sell. Even though the book had sold so well in Liverpool, I had kept a few back so that any audience members in South Shields who had seen my previous performance could buy them.

The journey took around three hours and I pulled up outside the extraordinary circular building at the edge of the market square on the stroke of 12. I called June, who was looking after this event, and soon all of the furniture for A Christmas Carol had been unloaded and was being taken up to the third floor, while I took the car to a nearby car park next to the large theatre in the town, The Custom House.

The room where I perform at The Word is not a theatre, it does not have great stage lighting, and doesn’t have any of the history or atmosphere of St George’s Hall, but somehow performing A Christmas Carol in a venue dedicated to the written word was the perfect way to celebrate the birthday and honour Charles Dickens, so the room was excellent!

While I prepared the stage I chatted with June who admitted that she wasn’t sure how many people would actually attend – the library had received a few cancellations, due to the growing fear of the spread of the Omicron variant of Covid 19. I was also worried about the effect of the virus on my final week of shows and fully expected some cancellations along the way, either due to stricter government regulations, or simply because audience members would make their own decisions based on their levels of caution or fear.

At 1.30 the doors were opened and the audience began to arrive, all masked, and by 2 everyone who was expected had arrived. June formally welcomed them and when she mentioned the fact that we were honouring 178 years of A Christmas Carol there was a loud gasp of excitement.

The show itself was very different from those in Liverpool, as I didn’t have the same space to roam, and with the bright fluorescent lights shining brightly, I could see the audience clearly, but the effect of that amazing story was every bit as powerful as ever. The audience laughed, and sobbed and shouted and clapped with every bit as much enthusiasm as their Merseyside cousins and when I took my bows they stood and called out their appreciation. When the applause had died down I returned to the stage and spoke briefly about Dickens’s writing process of A Christmas Carol, and how it came to be published on the 19th December.

When I had finished I pulled on my mask (the Christmas Carol one that I had been given in Pennsylvania a week before) and went to the little merchandise table with its scanty stock of books. Soon they were all sold and signed, and the audience made their way to their homes, while I changed and packed up again. I walked to the car park to retrieve the car and noticed that at The Custom House it was interval time. I could tell this because huddled in the cold outside the front door was a group of audience members smoking, while on the other side of the building, at the stage door, were huddled a gropu of actors smoking! On the pavement outside The Word June helped me to load up my props and a little after 4pm I was driving again, this time heading south through drizzly rail towards the city of York, where I would break my journey home to Oxfordshire, with an overnight stay at The Elmbank Hotel, which has become my traditional staging post for this journey.

I had spent a great deal of the day driving to perform for a small audience in the far north eastern corner of Britain, but it had been well worth it, for in that little room at the very top of The Word we had given ‘A Christmas Carol’ a very good birthday party!

North by North East

Tags

Dickens and Staplehurst, Gateshead Little Theatre, P&O Cruises, South Shields, Staplehurst, The Signalman, The Word, York

On Sunday morning, Hallowe’en, the winter tour continued to pick up pace as I was due to perform in the far North East of England. The booking marked a return to the magnificent ‘The Word – The National Centre for the Written Word’, and it was a poignant visit as my proposed performance of Great Expectations at the venue was the first show lost to the pandemic back in May 2020. The Word is set in the heart of South Shields, on the banks of the Tyne River and required a drive of around 5 hours to get there. As the show was an afternoon one, with the audience due to arrive at 1.30, it meant an early start.

I had loaded the car the pervious day and my alarm was set at 5.15am (allowing for the fact that the clocks had fallen back an hour over night). As the rest of the house slept I had some breakfast, showered and prepared to leave ready to drive through a rainy, windy, squally morning. A goodbye to Liz and it was time to hit the road. Having set the SatNav I was relieved to notice that the journey time was considerably less than it had intimated the day before, so I would have plenty of time to stop for coffee breaks on the way. I decided to run through the script of The Signalman as I was driving, and as I turned onto the A34 I began: ‘Halloa! Below there!’ But I was interrupted, my flow was destroyed by a very strange sound: ‘slap slap slap slap’. At first I thought it was coming from the props in the back, maybe something was badly stowed and was rattling, but no, it definitely was coming from the front wheel, although the steering felt fine and no warning lights were showing, it was very odd. I continued to drive and got back to the script, but the slap slap slap continued and it was very obvious that something was wrong. I pulled into a petrol station and in the pelting rain investigated the front right tyre of my car. Sure enough part of the tread on the inside shoulder of the tyre had failed, sort of peeled away, exposing the metal bands that form the construction of a tyre. The strip of rubber hadn’t actually come off but was whipping the car body with every revolution of the wheel. The tyre was close to complete and catastrophic failure, and if it happened when I was driving at 70 miles per hour through the driving rain the consequences were too awful to think of. There was nothing for it but to change wheels. A Renault Kadjar only has a space saver wheel, which is much narrower than a standard one, and can only be driven at relatively low speeds, but it would have to do as there would be no tyre centres open at that hour. The other issue was that the spare is stowed under the floor of the boot space, meaning that I had to unload all of my props before being able to get to it.

In the dark and the rain I performed a reasonably fast tyre stop (OK, not quite the 1.9 seconds that the Formula One teams manage, but pretty good nonetheless), loaded up the car again, and set off once more towards South Shields. In one way it was fortunate that the weather was so awful because it kept my speed down which, with the space saver tyre, was necessary. Really the skinny wheel isn’t designed to undertake such a long journey, but on Sunday I had no choice.

The traffic was light and I passed the time by continuing my rehearsal, as well as listening to various podcasts, including a couple of episodes of ‘You’re Dead To Me’, which is a light-hearted look at various historical figures and events. It is hosted by Greg Jenner, one of the team behind the brilliant Horrible Histories series, and each episode runs to a carefully formulated and regulated plan. Two guests, one an expert historian and the other a comedian, banter with Greg over the topic selected. One episode which accompanied me was based on the history of Ivan the Terrible who certainly did justify his terrifying moniker, for some of the details of his later activities were quite eye-watering. At one point during the episode the comedian for Olga Koch, who originates from Russia, was making a gag that involved the use of a passport and it suddenly flashed upon me the literal meaning of the word. It is not a document to travel, but a document to allow you into a foreign country: to allow you to pass through the port. A simple revelation, I know, but one that I rather liked that and I will remember it as I arrive in America next week.

The journey continued and I still had some time in hand to allow a coffee stop, and chance to send a message home to Liz to let her know that all was well.

The weather was getting worse again as morning became day and traffic increased the visibility became less and less, It was not a nice drive at all. Somewhere in Derbyshire or Yorkshire, I am not quite certain where, the traffic ahead of me suddenly slowed, with cars putting on their hazard warning lights to alert drivers behind that there was a hold up. Looking ahead it became apparent that there was some sort of blockage in the left and centre lanes of the motorway as vehicles were moving across, and then I saw what had happened. Skid marks scribed a terrible slew to the left where the metal barrier had been bowed in and flat, creating a sort of launch pad, the two inside lines were covered with dirt and metal and plastic, and laying on its side in the middle of the road was the remains of a small blue car, the front end was smashed (presumably where it had hit the barrier) and the glass in the windows was crazed (although not shattered). The modern airbag system had deployed, meaning that the interior of the car was fortunately shrouded from view. A few other cars had pulled to the hard shoulder and the occupants stood shocked, chatting. No one was tending to the crashed car and I hoped, even maybe prayed, that one of those people was the very very fortunate driver of the blue car who had emerged unscathed from the horror ride. It was obvious that the crash had only just happened, probably the blue car had overtaken me just minutes maybe seconds before. There were no emergency crews on the scene yet and the rest of the traffic filed slowly by, before tentatively speeding up and continuing their journeys. For me the scene was particularly frightening as it brought to mind what could have happened if my tyre had failed at high speed, but I drove on, cautiously and thankfully.

Eventually, after one more rest stop, I arrived at South Shields where the heavy rain continued to batter down, moored on the northern banks of the Tyne was an old friend, the P&O cruise ship Arcadia, on which Liz and I enjoyed happy holidays and on which we both performed. Seeing Arcadia was a lovely welcome to the town. I pulled up outside The Word, at a little loading bay, and called my contact at the venue Pauline Martin who appeared and helped me unload all of the furniture ready to be taken up in a lift to the third floor where I would be performing.

The room in which I perform at The Word is not a theatre space as such, but it is a beautiful circular space with views across the river (dominated by Arcadia). A temporary stage was erected at one end, and chairs were laid out ready for the arrival of the audience. I was due to give a talk about the Staplehurst rail crash in the first half of the programme and then perform The Signalman in the second, so Pauline and I connected a laptop to the projector so that I could show the inevitable PowerPoint slides to accompany the lecture.

The original idea was to use this event as a sort of launch for my new, indeed my first, book: ‘Dickens and Staplehurst. A Biography of a Rail Crash’, but unfortunately the publishers hadn’t manage to send me any copies, so the merchandise table stood empty at the doorway. However, book or no book, the story is a fascinating one and a good tale to tell before the Signlaman.

When we were set up Pauline disappeared to grab some lunch and I got changed into my all black costume, and then sat down to a sandwich, It was 1 o’clock so I had plenty of time to eat before the audience were due to arrive in 30 minutes time. But as I embarked upon my tuna and sweetcorn feast the door opened and a lady ran in, she stopped with an air of great surprise, ‘where is everyone? I hope that more people than this come. It is raining and wild, I suppose, but still!’ and she sat down ready for the show – she certainly wanted to bag a good seat! We chatted a little, and I made a few notes on my script, and then it occurred to me what had happened, the lady had forgotten to put her clocks back that morning, and was convinced that it was showtime and that she would be the only audience member. Fortunately Pauline returned at that moment and politely pointed out that the audience were not going to be admitted until 1.30, at which point the mistake was realised!

When the correct hour arrived the room was filled with a capacity crowd, and many came to say hello (I was hovering at the back of the room), to say they had seen me previously at other venues, and were so excited to see me again, which is always very gratifying. On the stroke of 2 Pauline introduced me and I stepped up to a lectern to begin the talk. I am not altogether at home giving a lecture, but I have presented this one on a few occasions, so I know that it works. The talk follows the plot of the book, although without the biographical aspects of Dickens’ early life, concentrating on the train journey and the building works at Staplehurst, and the aftermath of the crash. Everything went well and bang on time I brought the first half to a close. The audience had a few minutes to stretch their legs, whilst I prepared the stage for The Signalman. When the set was complete, we encouraged everyone back into the room and I began. Naturally the introduction to the show was much shorter (most of it having been given in the first half), so in no time I was launching in to ‘Halloa! Below there!’

The passion and the mystery of the story worked well and I felt quite exhausted and elated as I brought the piece to its end. Having taken my bows, I opened the floor up to questions and the first was ‘what happened to Ellen?’ Ellen Ternan was Charles Dickens’ mistress and was travelling on the train with him. While he assisted with the rescue effort for 2 or 3 hours, Ellen and her mother Frances are conspicuous by their absence from any accounts. The press were ravenous and collected names of all of the passengers involved, but the Ternan name was absent from every one of those reports. Maybe a clue lies in a letter that Dickens wrote a few days after the crash. He described looking out of the carriage window and seeing two guards running beside the wreck, he called to them ‘Look at me. Do stop for an instant and look at me, and tell me whether you don’t know me.’ One of them answered, ‘we know you very well, Mr Dickens’. ‘Then,’ I said, ‘my good fellow, for God’s sake give me your key and send one of those labourers here and I ‘ll empty this carriage’….Charles Dickens ensured he had a few moments to get Ellen out of the train and away before he clambered down into the wreck and very visibly assisted in the rescue effort. In my book I suggest that although that his very public actionss were certainly not a cynical ploy to divert attention from his travelling companions, it was certainly a fortuitous opportunity to perform a sleight of hand as befitted a talented conjurer!

Some of the wounded were looked after in the village of Staplehurst itself whilst others were taken back to London on specially commissioned trains. I imagine that Dickens ensured that the Ternan’s were onboard one of the first trains to leave the scene.

Ellen appeared in London a few days later, for Dickens visited her there and wrote a letter to his manservant asking him to take her a fresh basket of foods and treats every day, so that she may be comfortable. He also wrote to the station master at Charing Cross station asking if a quantity of gold jewellery, engraved with the name Ellen, had been found, as his travelling companion had lost it during the crash. It was at this moment that the mystery of Ellen Ternan began to emerge.

Another question was in response to a comment I had made during my introduction to The Signalman about the fact that although Charles had prepared the story as a reading, he never actually performed it in public. I surmised that his reluctance to perform the piece may have been due to the mental trauma he suffered post Staplehurst, or the fact that being a relatively short reading it would only fit into the ‘comedy slot’ which typically came after a longer, more dramatic reading. The Signalman wouldn’t send an audience home with a cheery skip to their step.

Next came the Q&A ‘market place’: the local branch of The Dickens Fellowship promoted their meetings (I performed at their conference held in Durham a few years ago and they are a vibrant and enthusiastic bunch, indeed) and that was followed up by The Gateshead Little Theatre plugging their own performance of The Signalman which is due to open in a week’s time. I was very happy to give both groups the opportunity to ‘sell their wares’.

I then joined in the general commercial break by not only mentioning my book once more (Dickens & Staplehurst. A Biography of a Rail Crash. Published by Olympia Publishing), but also my return visit to The Word in December to perform A Christmas Carol, and then it was time for the audience to leave and for me to pack up my things.

Once the car was loaded I said my goodbyes and tentatively headed south as far as York, where I was due to stay overnight, thus breaking the long journey home.

I was staying in an elegant hotel called the Elmbank Lodge, although I had booked a ‘courtyard room’ rather than one of the more expensive rooms in the main building. Unfortunately I discovered that the restaurant would not be open to me, as they only had one chef on duty so the only guests who could dine were those who had booked a ‘dinner and breakfast’ package, However the young man at the front desk recommended Valentinos, an Italian restaurant just a 5 minute walk away, which took me past some beautiful Georgian town houses. I also walked past a branch of KwikFit tyre repairers which would be very uselful come the morning.

Dinner was superb, the restaurant was busy and vibrant, with one of the waiters breaking out into snatches of song with a fine baritone voice. I overheard him telling a neighbouring table that he came from Calabria, his house in the shadow of Stromboli. He certainly played the role of opera-singing Italian waiter to a tee, but I rather uncharitably wondered if in fact he came from Barnsley or somewhere similar! When I had finished my Sea Bass and was sipping a strong coffee he came to chat, noticing that I had been reading Motorsport Magazine: ‘Ahh! Motorsport, Ferrari – Ascari, Alboretto, Rossi!’ Yup, he was a genuine Italian!

I returned to the hotel and after a very long day retired early.

Postcript

On waking on Monday morning and watching the television news I saw the story of a train crash that had taken place on Sunday night, on Hallowe’en. A train had struck some debris on the line and derailed, knocking out the signalling equipment as it did so, therefore there was no warning to a following train which ploughed into the wreck. Fortunately there were no fatalities but seventeen were wounded. The news footage focussed on the scene of accident – the two entwined trains at the mouth of a dark, dismal tunnel deep down in a cutting……..

It’s Been a Quiet 18 Months…..

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Byers'Choice, Califormia, Downton Abbey, Garrison Keeler, George Bush, George Washington, Highclere Catle, INS, King George III, Lake Wobegon, Lit&Phil, Llandrindod Wells Victorian Festival, Lockdown, Mid Continent Public Library, Nebraska, Omaha, Prairie Home Companion, Revelation Ashford, Rogers Gardens, The Word, Tony Blair, Vaillancourt Folk Art, Visa

‘Its been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon, Minnesota, my home town, out there on the edge of the prairie.’ So began Garrison Keillor’s ever brilliant weekly monologue, performed as part of his A Prairie Home Companion programme show which was broadcast weekly for nearly fifty years. Somehow I feel much the same way (albeit with a difference in timescale), about life over the last year and a half: ‘It’s been a quiet 18 months in Abingdon, Oxfordshire, my home town, out there on the edge of the Cotswolds…..’

My life as a performer has been cut from beneath me by the global pandemic and such performances as there have been have been spasmodic to say the least. Don’t get me wrong, for I have the loved time at home with Liz and the children, I have enjoyed becoming a runner, I have enjoyed being able to write and research, I have enjoyed our neighbourhood and a less frenetic way of life, but the natural rhythm of my professional life was interrupted, disturbed, fractured, meaning that my sense of self has been confused and disturbed, possibly changed forever.

But as Spring turned to Summer, and the heat became unbearable for the British nation, so the possibility of a conventional Christmas tour began to form, both in the UK and the USA. There are many hoops to jump through before it all becomes a reality but the venues are committed and the dates are in the diary, so this is a brief description of my year as it unfolds and hopefully you will be able to attend one of the events and welcome back Christmas!

Firstly the dates:

UK

27-28 August: The Llandrindod Wells Victorian Festival, Wales. Great Expectations. Dickens & Staplehurst.

23 October: The Victoria Hall, Sutton Scotney, Hampshire UK. Mr Dickens is Coming & Doctor Marigold

31 October: The Word, Jarrow, South Shields UK: Dickens & Staplehurst. The Signalman.

USA Tour

5-6 November: The Douglas County Historical Society. Omaha, Nebraska. A Christmas Carol

8-10 November: Rogers Gardens, Corona del Mar, California. A Christmas Carol

12-15 November: Mid Continent Public Library. Kansas City, Missouri. A Christmas Carol

UK

23 November: The Literary and Philosophical Society, Newcastle-Upon-Tyne. A Christmas Carol

24 November: Revelation Arts Centre, Ashford, Kent. A Christmas Carol

USA Tour

27-28 November: Vaillancourt Folk Art, Sutton, Mass. A Christmas Carol

30 November: Historic Christmas Barn, Connecticut. A Christmas Carol

1-2 December: Fortin Gage, Nashua, New Hampshire. A Christmas Carol

3 December: St Anselm College, Manchester, New Hampshire. A Christmas Carol

4-5 December. Ventfort House, Lenox, Mass. A Christmas Carol

7 December. Country Cupboard, Lewisburg, PA. A Christmas Carol

8-9 December. Winterthur Museum, Winterthur DE. A Christmas Carol

10 December. Lewis Public Library, Lewis DE. A Christmas Carol

11-12 December. Byers’ Choice, Chalfont PA. A Christmas Carol

UK

15 December. Henley upon Thames. A Christmas Carol

17-18 December. St George’s Hall, Liverpool. A Christmas Carol

19 December. The Word, Jarrow, South Tyneside. A Christmas Carol

20-21 December. Highclere Castle, Highclere, Berkshire. A Chritsmas Carol

23 December. Leicester Guildhall, Leicester. A Christmas Carol

So, lets have a little amble through that lot: I have included the Victorian Festival in Llandrindod Wells not because it is part of my Christmas tour but because of what it represents. The Victorian Festival has been running since 1982 and each summer has brought the community in the elegant spa town in mid Wales together. Featuring a huge variety of events, such as parades, craft fairs, Victorian pageants, costume workshops, afternoon teas and various performances, the festival has reminded an increasingly modern and hectic world of a slower pace of life, a more genteel way.

I am not sure how many years I have been attending the festival, six or seven maybe but it feels an intrinsic part of my summer and last year was the poorer for not being able to attend. Fortunately out of the Covid ashes the committee have managed to resurrect the festival for 2021, albeit with numerous restrictions in place, and I am returning to perform Great Expectations. However the sad news is that due to dwindling financial assistance from the local council and a lack of enthusiasm from the younger generations it is all too probably that this year will mark the end of the festival. Crinolines and top hats will be packed away for the last time and the elegant green park and bandstand will echo to the town crier announcing each event no more. I hope it is not so, but the prognosis is not good. It therefore was very important to me to include Llandrindod into my diary and to give the best performance I possibly can to make my days there a huge celebration of all that has been achieved over 4 decades.

The Victoria Hall, in the village of Sutton Scotney is a venue that I stumbled on by accident, albeit thanks to Charles Dickens himself. My brother and I had attended a celebration of the birth of Dickens in Portsmouth one February. As we drove home we discovered that the A34 road was blocked with traffic (not an unusual occurrence), so we looked at a map (remember them?) and found a route across country that wound through some of the Hampshire and Berkshire villages, one of which was Sutton Scotney. At one end of the village stood an impressive hall and I thought that it may be worth contacting them with a view to doing a show there. I have often made such approaches and usually they come to nothing but on this occasion I scored a bullseye because my email found Eryl Holt an actress with a long and varied career (including a role in one of my favourite TV comedy sketch shows). Eryl immediately took to the idea of a one man performance and arranged for me to perform a double bill of The Signalman and Doctor Marigold. The audience wasn’t huge for that first foray, but I impressed enough for the word to go around the village meaning that when I returned the following year it was to a full house. I have returned to Sutton Scotney on a few occasions now and always enjoy my time in the Victoria Hall, so when I was beginning to build my tour it was a natural venue to include.

The Word in Jarrow is a wonderful library complex opened only a few years ago. The building is a magnificent white, circular, spiralling structure with multiple rooms and spaces all designed to promote a love of written and the spoken word and sits in the heart of the town where it is open and accessible to the entire community. I was due to perform at The Word in May 2020 and it was the first booking that I lost when the initial period of lockdown was introduced. I was delighted when South Tyneside Council made contact asking for not one but two dates during the autumn season. One to talk about my new book describing the circumstances of the Staplehurst rail crash, accompanied by a performance of The Signalman, and the other to perform A Christmas Carol in November. It is a long drive, Jarrow being in the far North East of the country, but it is a worthwhile one!

The first part of my American tour has a familiar feel to it with visits to Omaha and Kansas City where I will be the guest of my old friends at the Douglas County Historical Society and the Mid Continent Public Library Service once more. Those who follow my blog will know that the folks in both venues are old and close friends and it seems perfect that my USA tour should begin there. The two venues are separated by a quick jaunt to the west coast where I will perform beneath the blazing Californian sun in the open-air amphitheatre at Rogers Gardens once more

But, and it is a big ‘but’ the chances of being able to travel still hang in the balance, with the scales tipped rather unevenly at the moment. All of the dates are booked and all of the venues are ready to go, but confusion still reigns over international travel. As countries deal with their own domestic policies regarding the containment of Covid and the vaccinating of their population, each has their own policy as to travel to and from other nations. The need to keep the approach of the disease and its variants at bay balanced against the need to open up the economy again has led to governments coming up with their own policies.

For many years Britain and America has shared ‘a special relationship’, (although it has become more or less special depending on the respective administrations – George III/George Washington marking the nadir and maybe Blair/Bush the zenith), and it is one that I like to think that I have contributed a tiny amount to. Earlier this year it was proposed that the relationship would be preserved with the creation of a travel corridor between the two nations, a sort of vortex through which no virus could travel. Now, though, as reality hits it has become apparent that everyone has to protect their citizens and travel restrictions have been imposed.

In a usual year The Byers’ Choice company would create the tour and secure contracts from every venue, then a huge document has to be submitted to the Immigration and Nationalization Service (with the approval of the Actor’s Equity union who quite naturally wish to protect the rights of American performers.). The INS then approve the visa application at which point I have to apply to the US Embassy in London for an in person interview where an agent can pose a few more questions, should they feel the need, and then grant the visa proper. But this year the Embassy is closed for interviews, meaning it is impossible to get a visa approved, the only exceptions being emergency visits for urgent situations and humanitarian travel. Additionally, in order to enter the United States directly from the United Kingdom, I will need to be granted a National Interest Exception (NIE). So before I can commence my 2021 US tour I have to fulfil one of those criteria. The scary part is that I can not apply yet as anything over 60 days before travel is not seen as an emergency (I must say it makes me smile to think of my show in that way: ‘Quick! We need A Christmas Carol and we need it NOW – this is an urgent plea!, thank Heavens that AChristmasCarolMan is on call!’), and we are only permitted one application so we have to time and use it wisely.

As always Byers’ Choice have engaged an immigration attorney and they are monitoring the situation carefully, for it is more than likely that the situation will change over the summer months and if it does we need to be ready to jump at the earliest opportunity.

So, back to my dates, and if I get to America and if I am allowed back in to the UK again without needing to isolate for 2 weeks, I will then travel to the far North East again to the beautiful city of Newcastle where I will return to the elegant surroundings of the Lit&Phil (Literary and Philosophical Soicety) before making my way back down the country to the Revelation Arts Centre in Ashford where I was able to return to the stage in June. I am one of the centre’s ambassadors and am proud to be so, it is always a wonderful space to perform and with a great audience.

Back in the USA (as The Beatles never sung), the second and longer part of the tour takes me to very familiar terriorty, starting in Massachusetts with the Vaillancourts, and moving around New England and Pennsylvania, with a brief foray into Delaware, until I finish up with the Byers’ family in Chalfont PA.

Back to the UK and I return to the beautiful setting of St George’s Hall in Liverpool where Dickens himself performed and for a second year I get to perform again in the great hall of Highclere Castle, the star of Downton Abbey, before bringing my season to an end in the ancient Guildhall in the city of Leicester.

I will keep you posted with progress as the weeks pass, but in the short term it is time to dust off Great Expectations once again and to prepare for Llandrindod Wells later this month.

That’s the news from Abingdon where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking and all the children are above average.