12th Sept 1967 (probably) - Audition

Undated, as usual, but postmarked the 12^th. A Tuesday.

Well, dear old mother, Things are slowly sifting along. Today was A-DAY (audition day) and Crowl duly went along. But let me start from the beginning.

John Hammond

This morning I woke up feeling just a trifle panicky about not having been able to do any practice for nearly a week, so rather than do it blind and practice on the bench-top in my room (which I tried!) I scouted round to see if I could get a studio. Well, I looked through all the likely places in the Pink pages, and finished up ringing Palings, a big music store. I knew from passing that they were a large place, but they didn’t have any now, so I was probably a few years too late! However, they suggested (at my request) ringing the Conservatorium, but they couldn’t help either. They suggested Ricordi’s, who did have one. So I screamed in and booked it. They’re on the 5^th floor on a place in Pitt St, and like the Chess Club building it’s a very old (and slightly sleazy) place. But they had a piano! So I John Hammond (who apparently played correspondence chess with Dad quite a bit). In spite of the name, he’s some sort of European (a ‘semi-millionaire’ according to Cecil) and anyway, he very kindly gave me the name of a guy who is very up in the music world, with his (Hammond’s) card. So!
walked fairly solidly (in about 150 degrees heat) and then went and had lunch with Cecil and a friend of his,

Next, (after another free lunch!) I returned to K.C., and spent the next half-hour or so getting nervously ready, (including pressing my suit pants!) Actually, at that stage I wasn’t greatly concerned about anything; the music had gone all right at the practice, so I wasn’t very worried. BUT!, I soon got to be! Anyway, I got round to the Trust (about 10 minutes’ walk) and found my way to Mr Oxenbold (who turned out to be much younger than expected) and he directed me to a studio. By this time I didn’t feel like practising, but I warmed up (ha! ha!) a bit and fiddled about till they came for me. [This may have been Moffatt Oxenbould, later the artistic director of Opera Australia.]

Three men in long, tall suits arrived – Mr Hall, Mr Bynel, and Mr King.  (The first two are producers) (the other a not very good conductor – according to Anne). They asked me to play something I was comfortable in (!) and so I whipped into the Beethoven. But I don’t think it was terribly inspired. Anyway, they stopped me before (after some effort) I’d finished it and plunked three horrible scores down in front of me – in quick succession. First Trovatore, a snaky soprano area which I started, and was asked to take faster! Well, I ploughed thru that. Then, (ho! ho!) (but I didn’t tell them till after that I knew it) Fledermaus. The Czardas, to be precise, which I also had to start again, because I played an incorrect note that I seem to recall playing for a while back in ’66! Then, ugh, ugh, the most fiendishly fast baritone aria that Mozart ever wrote, from Giovanni – Presto (multissimo) (it might as well be) – well, we didn’t get on too well (like the Trovatore, I already had a fair idea how it went) but we finished it; it’s a louse. (The baritone in NZ sang it in Italian because he couldn’t manage it in English!) Don’t suppose that would have mattered anyway. [This was toured in 1965, if I have my facts right, along with Trovatore. I ushered at His Majesty’s for at least one performance. Coincidentally, as I retype this, I’m just working my way through the score of Don Giovanni, including that notorious Presto, in preparation for Opera Otago’s production in August 2018.] 

Well, after that, they walked and left me to gather up my shattered nerves! (Sorry about all the “!”s, but life’s full of them just now!) BUT, Stephen Hall said he’d like to see me in about half an hour’s time, so I went and had some coffee, not really caring what the outcome was, but slowly gathering back my calm! One hour later I finally got hold of him again, and he was surprisingly encouraging.

He reckoned that I’d got ‘quite a lot of talent’!!!!!! So I modestly said, ‘Yes, I knew that already,’ ‘what else is new?’[I’m not even sure whether this is a joke, but I hope it is.] Anyway, after a small chat, (wherein he took down quite a few details) he asked me if I’d come back in a couple of days, when he’ll get some others to hear me – so, that seems to be reasonable. He sez it’s unlikely that I’d get any work until next year (which I’d expected) but he reckons that there’s limitless opportunities for coaches if wanted, and all in all he was quite nice, in spite of the fiasco. He reckoned, in fact, that I coped fairly well with the music, because I didn’t take one look at it and go – ‘Oooh!’ (I didn’t tell him I probably would have if they’d given me something I didn’t know.)

So, since then I’ve rung the Conservatorium, and they suggest coming along and seeing them about accompanying the teachers. IF (I said ‘if’) I can get work (I’ve still to try the Rockdale and State Opera Cos) both of which should be paying propositions!) I might stay here – you wouldn’t object too strongly would yuh! I’d miss you too, terribly, but it might have to be. If I did stay, I’d see, say the priests at St Mary’s and see (or even St C…) if they could get, or knew of, some board, or even a decent flat, I could share. (I don’t think I’d like to live alone too long!)

Sooooo! We’ll see what happens, and I’ll keep in touch! By the way, I got a letter from YOU today – sorry about the car – but it’s nice to see you still love me!

LATER Went to see Flying Dutchman tonite – percussion box practically empty – so sat there. [This was because I’d played with a number of the members of this orch in NZ, and the percussionist and I were good friends: so he gave me free access to the performances.] Very dreary production – hardly any attempt made at acting by the principals, but singing great. Orchestra very weak throughout, particularly the horns and brass. Quite effective lighting – 1 and 3 acts (on boat and wharf) done behind a gauze cloth, which gave it all a misty effect. Krug came into the box during the 3^rd act – and had a wee chat.

Love Mike

Undated - Free seat at the opera

It's a bit hard to tell where this letter fits in. Possibly I wrote two on one day, since the next one in the list is actually dated the 10th Sept. However, the information in this letter seems to indicate that it was certainly around the 10th or 11th.

Undated, but postmarked 11 Sept 67 

Dear Mother, How are You? I am fine! Long hot day here in Sydney, so having nothing really to do , I went to the T. P. Zoo. [Presume this is the Taronga Zoo – was it called the Taronga Park Zoo at one point?] And got so lost that I kept finding bits I hadn’t even realized existed. It’s a marvellous place, isn’t it? Snakes – UGH! Giraffes – oooh! (One baby there, but he just sat.) Some peculiar little animal that stopped and talked to me (everyone reckoned he was an opossum, but he was in with the wallabies). A cockatoo that nearly burst my ear drums with his ‘hullo,’ and two others that fell quite in love with me and wouldn’t leave. Very friendly crowd of animals there – there – they nearly all  had time to stop and chat! And a very good aquarium with some of the oddest and most beautiful fish I’ve seen. Who said op-art was a new thing? God gave it to fishes centuries ago!

It’s a ferry-trip, of course – or didn’t you know – I never know where you’ve been in S. and where you haven’t; and the ferry goes round the Opera House, still being completed, but surprisingly beautiful., and looked on as an attraction by even the most mundane of Sydneyites.

AMP Building

Went up to the top of the AMP building to top off the afternoon. It’s 25 storeys high (no 13 isn’t used except as an air-conditioning plant!) and the lift gets there in about 5 secs flat. I had to make 2 trips to pick up some of the things I’d left behind (stomach, heart, etc). And the view naturally is stupendous!

Surprisingly enough that just about filled in the day, and I’m off to tea in a minute. I’ll try a restaurant in Kings Cross tonite; went to the Continental (?) Café in one of the thousand arcades late nite – very nice too. So, see ya.

Jack’s mail arrived – somewhere along the line it’s been dipped in something pink! and every letter including Grahame’s reference has got blodged in some part. Looks like I’ll just have to wait and see whether it’s necessary to use that or not. [I’m unclear as to who this Jack is – Grahame may have been Grahame Clifford with whom I’d worked both as an accompanist in Dunedin when he was teaching there, and again in Wellington when he and I went on the Die Fledermaus tour together, and became even closer friends. He’d been one of the top baritone singers at Covent Garden in his day, and had originally come to Dunedin with a D’Oyly Carte tour, playing the comic patter roles. When he ‘retired’ he thought Dunedin would be a good place to live. Unfortunately he was never truly appreciated there.]

Had tea in a place I won’t go to again. Wouldn’t even give me a serviette! Couldn’t quite tell what the excuse was but the girl said, ‘We don’t…serviettes’?? So I was none the wiser nor cleaner by the time I’d finished the meal.

I’d rung Anne Newbury this morning and she suggested that since there were NO seats available for any part of the opera season – it’s been sold out for months!! – why not come along and see if I could get in behind the percussion players in one of the side boxes to see it – ‘it’ being Turandot. Well, I met her (and also quite a few others from Fledermaus) [the others being some of the orchestra members from Fledermaus; the NZ Opera Co had used Sydney orchestral players for some reason] and we found that there was simply NO room behind the percussion players, because they had every conceivable instrument in there already. So they suggested I go upstairs and stand at the back. Well, I tried that, but was told at least 3 times by a fussy usher that the fireman would growl, so I headed off at the end of the 1^st Act, and discovered quite by chance (or good management on the part of the guardian angel) that there was room in the side box in the gods. And after the first act two people moved out so I was free to take either seat. And what a sound it was. The view wasn’t much – everyone looked like a dwarf (!) – but I was between the stage and the orchestra practically and got the best of both! Marvellous. 

Grahame Clifford, presumably as the
Modern Major-General.

The production wasn’t anything remarkable, but the singing except for one or two spots was wonderful – and the chorus was terrifically full-blooded. The woman who played Turandot (who doesn’t come on till the 2^nd Act) arrived with a cloak that must have been 24ft long (!) made up (the cloak!) to be a peacock (of sorts) and it was spread all the way down a flight of stairs by her handmaids. And her costumes were terrific! Thousands of beads and glittering things. Heaven knows how she stood up in it all. [The stairway, one of those typical ‘inspirations’ by the designer, took up most of the stage, and while it was great for such effects as already described, it left little room round the sides for the large chorus, and the principals. Consequently, a lot had to be done on the stairway.]

Went round to see Feist afterwards for a brief visit, and he sez he’ll probably be there on Monday (!!) Oh well. [Bob Feist, the conductor of Die Fledermaus, who was by then working for this season in Sydney. An American conductor, with some eccentricities. He and I had our moments, in rehearsals, mostly because I wasn’t as familiar with Fledermaus as he expected I should somehow be. I also played the glockenspiel in the performances, a fairly thankless task since the part is not large – but they had to do something justify taking me around New Zealand. A good deal of some performances was spent reading The Hobbit by the light of the orchestral lamp. I seem to remember that I also played the triangle in the overture, and I certainly played the glockenspiel as the ‘sound’ of Grahame Clifford playing on the bars of the prison cell.]

So, must go to bed. See ya, love Mike.