19.9.67 - Considering the ballet

Sydney 19.9.67

Well,

Peggy van Praagh

here is my first day overdue – and I’m still up in the air. Unless something comes up I should be starting home later this week, but ---- (Heh, heh, heh!) last night I went to Don Giovanni (see below) and met Gerald Krug there. (He’s now to be the Ballet Conductor - I think I told you, didn’t I?) He came over to me and said, Had I ever done any ballet work, and I said only local groups at home, and he said would I be interested, and I said, if there wasn’t any other work available it was certainly better than nothing (very hard to sound keen and not so keen in the same sentence!). Well, he said he was going to see Miss Van Praagh (she seems to run the Ballet) tomorrow (that is, today) and if they needed me, would I be interested? So I said, yes, but that I couldn’t improvise or anything for them warming up etc; he seemed to think that that was a minor problem, and so he’s setting about it today. Well, that could be interesting, to say the least. For one thing I scarcely know any of the music, and it’s only about three and a bit weeks! Scream! But we’ll wait and see what happens.

I’m supposed to meet Robert Pikler today at lunch; I find he’s working at the Con, where I’ve already been (think I’ve told you), but it might be interesting (!) to see what happens when I go there with someone on the inside and don’t try and approach it from the outer as before.

Jim Sharman

Don Giovanni as produced in Aussie has been generally disliked in other towns, particularly Melbourne, I believe, and I find this hard to understand. The main cause of the trouble has been the set which consists of nothing but a chequerboard pattern not flat on the floor, but on an angle. [2018: raked, I presume.] It’s black and white, but with various lightings appears as several other colours throughout. With the exception of a couple of chairs (shaped like rooks) and a square table there is nothing else to dress the stage at all. The whole thing is surrounded by black drapes which people vanish into as exits. I felt, however, that nothing else was needed; DG is a fairly lively show, and the actors did plenty of wandering around, so I don’t feel it got boring. (Last night was youth night – for those under 26) (and they really enjoyed it – even laughed when the poor old Father got killed!). The producer is Jim Sharman, just 21, (and a friend of Glenda’s) and I think he’s done a very good job. The characters are all well defined (they’re all well written anyway) and we don’t have those funny little gaps that normally occur in opera production – I liked it!

The costumes were fabulous. Not done in black and white (fortunately – that would have been a bit much!) but rather in a muted red, and various blazing whites, and blacks with large chunks of gold etc on them. All the characters at the beginning came down during the overture to the front of the stage, and donned these hats and crowns that the chorus men gave them. The procedure was reversed at the end. I like it!

No more news just now, I’ll see if I can’t put this in with the letter from yesterday which I haven’t posted yet.

Love, Mike.

22.11.23 It's taken me five years to realise that two pieces of text in this post were transposed into an incorrect place. That sometimes happened when pictures were included. Anyway, corrected now.

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

27.10.68 First performances and walking home...again

27.10.68

Dear Mum, I’m not sure how long it is since I last wrote, so if I repeat anything please forgive me.  I think it was about last Sunday wasn’t it?  Sorry that there are such long gaps between my letters to you but I seem to have been particularly busy this last week. I’m very grateful to get your letters so regularly; I’ve practically been able to rely on receiving one each Monday and Thursday for some weeks now, and it’s very nice. Got a Tablet, too, this week – with a postal note and a Peanuts [cartoon] inside.  The latter was especially welcome, and in fact, if you don’t mind, I wouldn't mind at all if you included the odd one in with the letters either. They’re real day-starters (told you mail arrives about 7.30 didn’t I?) so if you’ve got a pair of scissors handy...!  Thanks for the continued postal notes too – the extra amount brings two of them to 11/- and 8d, and though they always have to go away and check on the amount, it’s worth it – IF YOU CAN AFFORD IT!

Menotti as a young man

All this week we’ve had Ella Gerber on our hands of course, and I’m afraid to say everyone is glad to see the last of her.  She didn’t work at all like any producer I’ve ever met – she didn’t plot any moves out beforehand, and with the two Menottis seemed content to work it all out in her head and then wondered why what she’d say one day didn’t fit in the next!  She knows Porgy backwards, of course, but this didn’t seem to help either – the poor singers practically had to relearn the whole thing her way. It is now generally considered that when Gershwin wrote Porgy had no idea what he was doing and that he didn’t really mean to put anything down the way he did.  Ella has rediscovered it all and does it her way!  And to cap it all, Alistair, who was conducting Porgy, caught a whopper of a cold and was away from two of the most important rehearsals – so that when he came back and went to conduct the final rehearsal on Friday afternoon, Ella kept harping on about his having been away, and how so many things had been changed while he was away. The things he nearly did to her I won’t describe, but it was the most shambolic rehearsal I’ve ever been privileged to attend.  The Telephone and The Consul had gone off quite well at this rehearsal, so I don’t know why she got so Bolshy about this one!  Anyway, all 3 shows were equally successful in their own way in the evening.  We played them for the Friends of Covent Garden (people who subscribe to CG and get into the rehearsals) and our own friends in the University College Theatre, which is sort of North Central London.  All the Crowls came, and actually quite enjoyed it all, I think (I’d sent them a seven page set of notes that I typed out about the three operas so that they’d have a better idea of what they were all about) and Michael came, and for once didn’t think I played too loud, and Kingsley got as far as the tube station and couldn’t find the theatre itself.  He will not take the A to Z with him – seems to think he can always find his way about by merely looking at it at home here and then trying to do it all from memory. And then he wonders why he’s worried about getting lost!!  Perhaps this will have taught him a lesson. That all sounds a bit mean, but I can’t see why he’s too proud to use it.  He doesn’t seem particularly interested in making friends with people at Guildhall. Well, I don’t think I can help him there, it’s something he’ll have to do himself, and the sooner the better.  [Crikey, I sound like a fussy grandfather!]

I made a few blues in the playing of The Telephone, but nothing too worrying, and the audience really enjoyed it, and really laughed, what’s more.  The Consul was tremendously moving – I wouldn't have thought it could be, but yet some of the bits we’d thought most absurd during rehearsals were most effective.  I didn’t find Porgy and Bess nearly so moving – I don’t think Ella has ever managed to get anybody’s sympathy about it.  [I knew Porgy and Bess reasonably well from the NZ Opera Co’s production of it, which I’d seen when they toured it – I had ushered for it, so probably saw every performance in Dunedin.]

After the show, Mike and Hazel and David Gorringe (another stage manager and about 25, small with glasses and very friendly with a mad sense of humour) and David Syrus and I went to a nearby pub, and spent a while there doing considerably more talking than anything else – if that relieves your mind!  After that I went down to where Mike is now living – near Oxford St - and had a quick coffee because I didn’t want to get stranded in London city again – I told you about the previous Saturday, didn’t I?  Let me know if I didn’t.  So I shot down to the tube and caught the last train.  The only trouble was I started doing the Tablet crossword, and went straight past my station!  The next train was some time about 5 am, so I had to start walking back to Plaistow, which shouldn't have been far. But, the ticket-collector gave me rather obscure directions and I found (later) that I was actually walking north instead of west.  [Plainly I hadn’t taken my own advice about always carrying the A to Z!]  I finally caught a bus back to Plaistow to the street running parallel with Balaam St, and arrived home about one thirty. 

Kingsley and Mike and I went to Don Giovanni on Thursday (for nothing and sat in the front row!) and Kevin, who had just arrived back from Spain, came too.  It wasn’t a bad production, but the designing was terrible. None of the clothes belonged to any particular period – except one that looked like German 18^th century, and the sets were like a child’s play box on a larger scale.  Terrible! [This may have been the Sadler’s Wells production, the first production for the company at their new home at the Coliseum. It was directed by John Gielgud, and wasn’t well received, apparently.]

[Hazel, mentioned above, by the way, is from British Guyana, and has been here for about nine years or seven?  She’s twenty-seven, and has a very infectious laugh.)

Yesterday went out to the Crowls, and in the afternoon went with Reg to the jumble sale being held for the Intellectually Handicapped Children’s Society, and finished up selling old men’s clothes. Quite a lot of fun, actually, trying to match up the men who came along with the clothes we had. And this morning after Mass, Reg and I went and walked in Hampstead Heath, which goes on for miles in every direction, and would be very easy to get lost in. [We revisited Hampstead Heath in 2007 when staying with a friend in Kentish Town – I’d forgotten just vast it is.]  I better go and do some washing now as I didn’t seem to have much time to do anything last week.  Lots of love, Mike.