20.9.67 - The waiting game

Sydney 20.9.67

Hullo, me old friend,

Well, things go along very slowly here – everyone seems to think I’m here to stay and can afford to sit round and wait for them all. Haven’t heard anymore from Krug and Co yet – they’re the slowest of the lot.

Went to see Robert Pikler yesterday; was supposed to have lunch with him, but he was even too busy to do that; he was very kind and helpful – the way everyone is, here (for a start, anyway), and he promised to ring one person at the University who is a conductor there, and also to see the chief coach at the Con and also the Opera School Head, there. Since he’s on the inside, he may be able to do something for me. He sez there are two people there who do nothing but coaching of singers and he reckons they’re both flat out. (They might like to stay that way – since neither is on a salary, but a commission basis.) Anyway, I’ve got to ring him back, or he’ll ring me; something or other, before the week’s out. This means I’ll have to stay till the end of this week at least; awkward, isn’t it. I wouldn’t mind if I was assured of work, but this sitting around waiting all the time rather gets me down. But there’s little I can do, I think. [2018: There’s a considerable lack of gratitude here, considering how generous all these people were. Perhaps Krug and even Pikler thought I wasn’t interested enough in work and didn’t pursue things further.]

I’ve spent most of this morning ironing shirts and hankies. Did a big wash yesterday, now that I was able to get some soap powder. Used to wash me sox in the hotel and leave them in the bathroom to dry – it was always so hot in there, they’d generally dry overnight. Discovered yesterday that I still had one of the keys to my hotel room! Dropped it into them while I was in seeing Pikler.

Watched an odd movie on TV last nite – All the Brothers were Valiant (felt as though I’d seen it before, too) – it had Robert Taylor, Ann Blyth, Stewart Granger and Betta St John in it. (The latter is the wife of the guy who came out to do Fledermaus last year.) [Peter Grant, who also appeared in a few movies.] It was a pretty weird story, but it did have one very good sequence where they were catching a whale – though the whole thing was done in the studio, it was extremely well done – certainly the best thing in it.

It’s a gorgeous day today – lovely warm sun – it’s in the 60s, I think.

I’m still ploughing slowly through my German, but I think I’m progressing. Anne, who spent a year in Vienna, asked me something in it last night – and I didn’t understand a word – so I’m still very much a beginner.

That seems to be all just now, so see ya, Love, Mike

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.

15.9.67 - Not listening to good advice

Sydney 15.9.67 (Noon)

Pencil economy! Not really – just haven’t a pen. Hullo! Have recovered my usual buoyant sense of humour (probably as a result of enjoying Fiddler so much, and because it’s so warm, and because I’m going quite well with my German – if I can keep it up.)

It’s a funny sort of day. Sort of diffused – if you know what I mean – there’s a haze over the city, but the sun is filtering through – and my left arm is feeling, and looking, rather burnt. I’m sitting in one of about a dozen parks (small) in KC, just down the road from the Hotel. These parks (even the very smallest) seem to have fountains and trees and shrubs, and there are any number of seats – in fact there are seats all over the city, and parks!

[back in ink again]

LATER Got a letter from me mother! Hurray! I laughed at it all the way up in the lift (otherwise empty) and along the corridor and into my room. Looks like I’d better take my umbrella into town with me tonight – it’s been raining most of the afternoon – should be okay – the repair job seems to be all right.

MICHAEL CROWL – MUSICAL DIRECTOR, No, no. MUSICAL DIRECTOR ----! That’s totally funny – I’d probably be awfully inept at it. [Not sure what the reference here is; probably my mother trying to cheer me up. 2018: anyway, I’d done musical directing in various ways before I’d gone to Oz, so I’m not quite sure why I found it so funny.]

I’m going to ring the Trust in about half an hour and see if I can get some satisfaction. Hope that today I’ll know what the future will be. I haven’t gone anywhere much for the last couple of days; it’s been sort of frustrating to have to sit round and wait like this. Can’t even book me flight home. And I’ll have to go easy on the old pocketbook, too, if I’ve got to stay on a bit longer. Anyway, I’m determined to come home with something left over. I would have had a lot more if the Hotel bill had been what I expected. (Don’t be surprised if every now and then you find nouns with capital letters in the middle of a sentence. In German all nouns have capitals and the ones that I know in German I’m inclined to put down with a capital! Silly, isn’t it?)

I’ve spent most of this arvo in the little library round the road reading Tobias and the Angel, a comedy on the Bible story, by James Bridie. The Aussies don’t seem to be able to put books in order. It’s awfully hard trying to find anything in the 2 libraries I’ve so far been in. The Main one in town has only a vague order. Nothing is alphabetical as far as I can see, so how they ever find anything! [Still griping about libraries 25 years later.]

LATER I’m really beginning to think that I need a business manager or something – I, myself, must be handling things wrongly – or something! Just rang the Trust, again, and now we’ve got to wait till Mr Krug gets himself moving re the Ballet Co. He’s their conductor. (P. Schwartz apparently stayed in Sth America or somewhere obscure – how odd!) [Peter Schwartz was a chain-smoking Austrian conductor who’d made his home in NZ; he was involved in the Summer Schools in Dunedin where I met him, where he was very encouraging in terms of my accompanying. I hadn’t heard of him since for years until I became involved in the brass band movement, and there he was conducting a band as one of the many strings to his bow. 2018: I wonder if I intended the wordplay/pun?] So they were going to wait till Tuesday, but I said that my time was limited (so it is; I’m fed up with waiting around for them) and so I’ve got to ring them on Monday at lunchtime. Heavens, they do muck around, don’t they! They must surely know whether they’ve got room for an extra pianist, or not – their excuse, according to the (not so) charming Miss Swan is that they’ve got people dotted all over the country just now. Marvellous!

I don’t know what to do about Pikler, now. Doubt if he can do much at this stage, and anyway, the place he’s mainly concerned with is the Conservatorium, and I’ve been there! And that other fellow that Cecil introduced me to, John Hammond, reckoned if he were in my shoes he’d get a job, any job, just to be on the spot. [A sound piece of advice which I obviously wasn’t hearing.] I’m inclined to think I’ll get as much musical experience back home – (where I’m obviously appreciated – heh, heh) and where I won’t have to pa out exorbitant amounts for lodgings. Look out, I’m going to scream – [printed very large:] AAAAGH!

That feels a lot better.

Courtesy Creative Commons

Better go, got all me packing to do tonite – go to Anne’s tomorrow. Mary Williams, who was also in Fledermaus, a cellist (whose flat Claude and I went to for tea, remember?) is coming over for the afternoon, on Sunday, so we can have quite a chat. [Claude was a genuine Frenchman [2018 I’m not sure why I wrote ‘genuine’], a clarinettist. There was some relationship between him and Mary but I’ve no idea how serious it was. I seem to recall Claude mooning around after a fairly disinterested Mary. My one other great memory of Claude, who was an excellent clarinettist, is that he couldn’t get a single note out of a clarinet I owned, and which I took on tour with me round NZ, and could actually play!] My poor old left arm’s burnt nearly through, while the right is only red.

Oh, well, see ya, love Mike.

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

20.9.68 Culture Shock and Shock of Recognition

20.9.68

Hullo, old soul, how are you and the kid? [The cat] You’re a regular genius, you know, that poem was a delight and really cheered me up; in fact I got 3 letters in two days, and that was marvellous.  But I’m afraid since then I’ve felt a bit depressed – almost as bad as when I was in Rome. Don’t know why, it just seemed to get to me yesterday, and yet I was quite enjoying myself.  So I’m sorry if this isn’t too happy a letter.  I know I’ll get over it, but it just seems to hit you every now and then, as you no doubt well know. I think, perhaps, once I get started on the course I’ll be all right, but at the moment I’m rather concerned about how it’ll all go. I don’t think I mind living in England at all, though morally I don’t think the climate is as good as NZ, and they’re worried about NZ – so!  [One of the most startling things to my eyes at this point, I remember, was a huge poster for a Swedish movie that hung from a building in Central London: the two actors were naked and making love.  Commonplace now, perhaps, but at the time shocking.]

Kiri put me off a little yesterday I think with her scandal sheet about some of the happenings last year at the school.  So between us (you and me I mean) we’ll have to pray like mad that I can steer clear of that sort of thing.  [I probably never told my mother about the many ‘scandalous’ things that did go on in the course of the year, amongst both students and staff.]

Well, that’s made me feel a bit better, but it’s probably made you feel worse.  I’m sorry about that, but at the moment you’re the only one I can really put everything straight to. Perhaps I shouldn't send this, just carry on typing until I’ve got it out of my system, and then destroy it? 

I’ve had a couple of meals at the Centre the last two lunch times – quite reasonable dinners at not too bad prices, so that would seem to help.  And saves me fiddling around till 7 at night cooking a big meal when I get home.  Not that I mind, I bought myself a little book called the No Time to Cookbook, and it’s already come in handy.  It has recipes for meals that take 10, 20 and 30 minutes so is quite good because they’re all fairly filling.  Some are a bit expensive, however, so I’ll stick to the cheaper ones. 

Did I tell you I gave the Crowls some chocs last time I was there; I’ll see if I can get some flowers for Mavis this time.  This will be the last weekend for a couple as they’re going on holiday. 

There have been two or 3 things I’ve meant to say for ages and keep forgetting.  First I must apologise on my bended knees for being so rude to you on the day I left – I know I’m always a bit shirty on that sort of occasion, but I seemed to be extra nasty that day.  I am really sorry.  Next to mention the little old houses that we saw going into Rome (!): several of them had little niches up in the wall and there would be a statue of Our Lady standing in them.  Similarly in London there are odd little statues hanging on buildings or sitting in some unexpected corner.  Very few religious ones of course, but occasionally I’ve seen a crucifix or somesuch hanging over a door.  And last night I saw the second of two quite absurd accidents: a taxi was standing in the middle  of Plaistow High St, with another car pulled up behind it, when a bloke in a little sports model pulled out from across the street (I think) and quite happily ran into the back of the car!  I don’t suppose he was too happy about it really, but it just seemed too silly to have happened.  No one hurt.  And another day this week a fellow who one minute was parked at the side of the street came suddenly shooting down and into the back of another parked car.  I don’t know whether his brakes suddenly failed or what!  And another titbit.  There is a little man with a moustache doing a buskers act outside one of the Piccadilly Circus theatres each time I go past.  he has a couple of people playing for him and sings and dances without a sign of strain, and he’s not all that young, either.

Onto what little I’ve done this week.  On Monday I went to the National Gallery and actually managed to get right round it, I think.  it’s amazing though to see half the pictures (well some!) that are in the Wonderland of Knowledge and other places just sitting there!  A whole room of Rembrandts, dozens of Italian paintings of the 16^th and 17^th centuries, and a host of others that you’d know by sight too I’m sure.  The funny part is seeing them in colour after looking at the black and white pictures for so long: it sure makes a difference.  [The Wonderland of Knowledge was a set of a dozen hardbound books covering a huge variety of topics of interest to a growing mind that had been in my home for as long as I could remember; I’d studied the pictures in it for years – though not the text so much – and so was familiar with many of these paintings when I came to see them live.] 

On Tuesday I joined the Nat. Film Theatre, which since it works out to something like a penny a day seems quite reasonable.  Plus the fact that you get a lot of free guff as well as free copies of Sight and Sound, the big Brit. film mag.  I also went in and saw something called [The Extraordinary Adventures of] Mr West in the Land ofthe Bolsheviks, a silent film which was extremely funny in a goon-show way. Mr West is an American senator who goes to Russia (complete with cowboy protection!) and gets involved with a gang who do him out of all his dollars. 

On Wed, I went to the Meistersingers which cost a pound, which is a lot.  I could have perhaps got in for less but it would have meant a killing evening’s sitting: the show starts at 5.15 and goes till 11.30!!  So I got a slightly better seat, and a marvellous view, and still didn’t have anywhere to put my feet!!  None of the London theatres think about this apparently.  But it was worth it.  There are two breaks, one of 15 minutes and another of 45.  Over a 100 in the orch, and more on stage.  Fantastic. 

Last night, because the Opera Centre got half price seats I went to a concert at the Royal Festival Hall.  And even though it’s a new hall, there’s nowhere to put your feet!   We got the cheapest seats, and they were still excellent.  It’s a great place: 3 huge floors all fronted by glass, looking out over the Thames.  They played my favourite Mozart Concerto, outstandingly, and two Beethoven bits. [Not at all informative; I don’t now know what my ‘favourite’ Mozart Concerto was.]  London is still small: the boy next to me was a NZer (so he said to his girlfriend!) and Gerald Krug, one of the Aussie Conductors during last year’s little trip of mine, was there with his wife.  At least I’m sure it was him.  He didn’t seem to recollect me when I sort of kept wandering around them at the interval, so I didn’t speak in case it wasn’t; but I’m sure it was!  People here don’t seem to expect to see anyone they know.  Going to Reg’s last week, there were three Americans on the tube [handwritten from this point on] who stayed on when I got off.  They turned up at St Alban’s Cathedral.  I wasn’t greatly surprised but the Crowls seemed to be! – when I told them, that is. I’d better go and do some work and have some breakfast etc.  An awful lot of love – Milke (who?) Mike.

[This business of meeting people I knew from New Zealand in such a vast congregation of people has always intrigued me. When Celia and I go on trips out of Dunedin we always keep an eye out for people we know, and usually meet at least one person.  But that’s in NZ.  When my wife Celia and my eldest daughter Stefanie  went to England around 1987, Stef was taken by some of her relatives in Northampton to the mall at Milton Keynes.  She met my cousin from Dunedin! When Celia and I were in England in 2007 we travelled some distance out of our way to catch up with another one of my cousins, whom I hadn’t seen in years. When we first arrived she was out, and the woman she lives with entertained us. When my cousin arrived, it was with my uncle from Dunedin in tow – I hadn’t even known he was over there.]