I dooon't belieeeeeve !!I

What is it that I don't believe ? Last time I was in Sweden my good friends Goran and Anna connected me with a server, using a portable modem. This time I'm staying with Liz- Marie and Tosse, in Nasby Park, and Tosse just explained that he's not an expert but thinks this laptop should automatically go on line "wireless". That didn't mean a lot to me, being of the "steam radio" era, but, lo and behold, Tosse pressed a few keys. Up popped "Dora" and I am using this wireless connection (with Tosses' permission) - well, how about that? As long as I stay within this house I can go on line any time - and Tosse is more of an expert than he believes ...so there !! Today Anna L and I "crossed paths" in the air at Arlanda - she was on the way to Berlin to rehearse with their Philharmonic Orchestra for Aix, and I'm here to "have a breathe" with my other lovely "regulars". Yes, breathing can become a habit....indulge....At London Heathrow Airport I was about to "drop my bag", having already checked in on line, when a "helpful" old gentleman advised me to join a very long queue and not try to "jump it" by going to the baggage drop counter which was free. Explaining that I didn't need to do that, he argued with me for a few minutes whilst I tried to enlighten him on the art of checking in "on line". He shrugged his shoulders, looked at me, obviously branding me an idiot or senile, and muttered "Uuugh - wooomen" ! As the SAS lady took my bag on to the belt and it disappeared, she asked the old gentleman if she could check his ticket, allowing him to avoid the queue. Her smile disappeared - "I'm so sorry Sir, your flight closes in ten minutes. You can't possibly make it, you'll have to be re - scheduled on a later flight" . MEN !! Of course I'm teasin', I love 'em all . Just be careful of the helpful advice given to you by strangers at airports....The other evening I was giving a dinner party at my place and one of the guests spotted a tin of jelly beans,48 flavours, a present from New York via Anna L. The tin was opened and war broke out! The beans were emptied into a dish and the otherwise calm, sedate and frightfully polite guests turned into a group of naughty kids, each trying to secure their favourite flavour...never seen anything like it - I had no idea people were so passionate about jelly beans ! If you want a lively dinner party invest in a tinful and stand back - thankyou Anna x - k..p b.......g.....

The soul ....?

Yes, we've been shivering here for some time, it's rained enough to fill all the reservoires, and the grass has reached knee height - agaaaain ! That makes cutting the lawn a major epic and backbreaking experience (although this time, my Goddaughter is visiting and took on the task - pheeeew, many thanks Celeste) - maybe the Japanese have it right - raked shingle terraces... good for contemplation, meditation, spiritual healing and the soul.... My weekly yoga class is a God send - it matters not which God one is associated with, in fact, one does not need to be a worshipper of any sect or religion. Belief in the divine order of life, and the sanctity of the soul is the ultimate mystery. So what is the soul ? In the Oxford dictionary it is explained thus : Soul = the immaterial part of man regarded as immortal, the organ of emotion and thought and will. My favourite meaning is = the essence of life or inspiration - there you go, my favourite word! It encapulates so many interpretations which create circles - one cannot be inspired creatively unless one is inspired with air, and imagination - the circle has already grown - and so on and so on ! What has inspired me to wite about this today ? The current lack of respect for our fellow creatures; why is there so much evil dominating the headlines? Much is lack of respect for each other. I was with a young Chinese man recently and he is apalled by the lack respect for the elderly in the Western world. The breakdown of our "civilisation" is affecting us all, but how do we redress the situation? Who knows? Faith can play a part and here we are again - belief, religion, etc..Today, at last the sun is shining magnificently and that always gives me a boost of faith in human nature. I count my blessings, take a deep breath and say a heartfelt prayer in the hope that whoever, whatever, makes our world go round, receives my pleas that a kinder, more caring and peaceful world, will emerge from the will power of those who would have a more peaceful way of life globally.....take a nice slow breath - and help to "will" this to happen, for our children's sake ... they deserve it...k..p b.......g....

Glyndebourne then..... cont'd.....

After that brief reference to my old stomping ground, Glyndebourne, in previous blog, I thought I should elucidate a little more on "then", "then" being 1968. In the letter I recently found on a rummage through memorabilia are details of accommodation in Plashett, the long buildings on the lower level of the car park which now contain the Archives. Ironically, on my visit last week, Julia and I were in what I think was originally the shower room of "the boys" end - a forbidden area for "the girls" in my day ....!! The letter contains details of the equipment allocated to each resident - e.g. 1 knife, 2 forks - 1 large, 1 small; 1 dessert spoon, 1 soup spoon, 1 tea spoon - etc., etc., any losses should be replaced... Clean laundry should be collected PUNCTUALLY from the House big kitchen on Thursday mornings, do NOT leave any washing to drip in your bedroom or the bathroom....oh, what fuuuun it was - and it REALLY was !! For a basic week of 48 hours (i.e. 42 hours worked plus 6 hours lunch breaks), you will be paid the rate of £20.00 per week. Overtime :- Time worked over the basic 42 hours up to 72 hours @ 63p per hour. Time worked over 72 hours @ 84p per hour - wooooow - we had to feed ourselves there, and pay for our domicile flats elsewhere ....."aaaah, thooose weeeere the daaaays" said with quivering Spike Milligan oooold voice .....stop laughing Sims - your fingers go aalll wwoobbally ........p.s. We will pay your 2nd. class rail fare from Victoria, London to Lewes, and return, in respect of this engagement - hmm hmmm..!! Those years spent in the bowels of Sussex were some of the happiest and sublime for me, such a Mecca of excellence, some of the finest world class singers - so many came through there, and the only management where the budget was unlimited - you simply requested the materials required to make a piece, and it was delivered pronto ! We were so spoiled in that respect - can't imagine that it happens anywhere else now - that's fairly obvious from cut price productions, isn't it......A "perk" for we minions was to be allowed to sit on the tennis court low wall and watch the patrons promenade to the theatre. One episode that still makes me laugh was when John Fraser, a fellow "Propper" came in to the workshop, speechless and belly laughing, finally rolling on the floor guffawing. When he was eventually able to blurt out the reason for his hysterics, it transpired that a very elegant Lady ( who shall be nameless..) having alighted daintily from the family helicopter, hair piled high, beeeautifully dressed in a strapless, backless gown - down to the crack (!) , gave a little skip as she passed John (sitting on the wall, sipping beer) and moved on quickly. The gentleman following the Lady, noticed something on the path and smartly picked it up, presumably thinking she had dropped her handkerchief . Much to his surprise and embarassment it was her - ? Yes - her panties !! With lightning speed, he shoved them into the yew hedge alongside and walked on majestically as though nothing had happened. The reason John was almost bursting when he arrived in the prop. room was because he knew he couldn't scream his head off in front of the rest of the arriving audience - he'd have been hung, drawn and quartered for that .....So ladies, always check your elastic or thong - !!
'bye for now and do , please k..p b.......g

Glyndebourne - then, ..... and now.....

My first season at Glyndebourne was in 1968, and last Friday I drove down, to research my contribution to their productions over the years, with their charming and highly proficient archivist, Julia Aries. Oooh - to have such a treasure organising my filing system. To my surprise, Julia first presented me with my personal file, which contains the first two letters, written in 1967, applying for a position on their stage management staff - how's that for efficiency? The most surprising thing for me was the hand writing - so neat and text book accurate! One recommendation to students at the London Opera Centre, which I was attending in '67, was to always hand write an application - that can still be the case in England - prospective employers "read character" into it , don't you know ..!! ooooooh. It has been known for a person to persuade a friend to ghost write for them - naughty, naughty...With the advent of computers I think this is inevitably changing....At University, it is not now compulsory to be able to spell, even in the languages departments, which gives everyone a chance of higher education. Some folk don't approve, it would be like having a choral scholar who can't sing in tune to them....much debate on these subjects.... As Julia and I searched through hundreds of photo's, many items I'd forgotten emerged - it must have been a period of prolific output that I'd not realised at the time...Must say I took a few deep breaths at the variety and quantity... There is so much to write about, but I'll stop now and continue later ...I still feel breathless...but you .. please .....k..p b.......g...

Ingrid ......fresh air in Chichester....and it doesn't come much fresher by the sea...

Looking through heaps of memorabilia, filtering out much of no consequence, and being very brave, nay, ruthless in discarding a load of dross which has been packed away and forgotten over the years since I retired. O.K. so I'm still rushing about like a dotty, breathing with anyone who's interested - but you know what I mean.....? During my time as Property Manager (stage props., not buildings) for Chichester Festival Theatre Company, mid nineteen seventies, one of the most charming and human of the International artistes I was privileged to have as a colleague, was the legendary Swedish actress Ingrid Bergman. So elegant, she was leading lady in a production of "The Waters of the Moon", what I would describe as a fairly forgettable play, and the reason for having a star studded British cast to support Miss Bergman - Dame Wendy Hiller, Sir John Clements, Dandy Nichols. At the first production meeting with producer, designer, entire cast and production team, all very English, terribly polite and proper of course, the costume designs (by a young and inexperienced lady who had "researched" the period), were laid out on a table, and I will never forget Miss Bergmans' expression when she saw those intended for her - she was aghast, but trying not to show it....Her character in the play was a 1930's film star - and she pointed out, as kindly as possible, that she was a film star at that time - and would never have worn anything so unfashionable - and one could sense her thinking "and uugly"....There was an embarassing silence, everyone seemed to stop breathing until the Artistic Director tactfully changed the subject to the set and prop. designs. Pheeew - great sighs of relief all round... The costumes were eventually designed by Finlay James - and they were gooorgeous - could hardly get Miss B. out of them !! As rehearsals progressed I was obliged to present properties to the respective actors, a process by which one builds up friendships within the company. Miss Bergman had never worked on a thrust stage before and found it quite daunting; to relieve the pressure of intense rehearsals, she invited me to join her - she'd hired a Mini (tiny car which she could just squeeze in to..) to enjoy "a breath of fresh air" at lunch times, and suggested that we explore various picturesque little villages on the shores of Chichester Harbour, it being my home territory. We had such fun, and as colleagues, it didn't really dawn on me at the time just how special those happy hours were. The show was so succeccful that it transferred to The Haymarket Theatre in London. Many people asked if they could be introduced to Ingrid - we were well past formal titles by that time, and she always said it was O.K. if they were friends of mine - she had had awful experiences with over enthusiastic "stalker" fans . Kiri was overawed by meeting her - and a year later Ingrid was overjoyed that she had met Kiri when she sang The Countess, in "Figaro" at The Royal Opera, London - wonderful when gifted artists meet, so modest with each other.... Incidently, Ingrid would only work in the U.K if her favourite dresser, a motherly old cockney lady called Looey was available to protect her from over zealous fans - such terrors..... "glamour" as Anna L says......k..p b.......g...

Lucky clover ....

You may have heard that finding a four leafed clover is the harbinger of good luck ? How about a five leafed clover - just what I picked recently in Munich, on a bank of the River Isar - so I've been waiting for a miracle ......! It's already happened in a minor way - miracles do come in varying degrees, and mine have been with finances. No, not a lottery win - I don't indulge, but in tiny benefits - "every little helps" is the Tesco motto, and my miracles couldn't be much "littler".....Think I have already mentioned the free television licence ? Much to my surprise, having acknowledged that I've attained the ripe old (?) age of seventy five, the powers that be have refunded me the princely sum of eighty pounds, in two cheques - I had contacted two different personnel at the Pensions Dept., ( ooops - don't spend it aaaall at once... ), illegally taken from my bank account as no one had noticed my birth date. Maybe if I keep calling them, the funds will carry on arriving - hope springs eternal..... My state pension was not allocated to me until one year after I qualified at sixty years - I had to tell them I was still alive - and hoooow..! Beaurocracy - uuuugh... Now I have a free bus pass nationally - whatever neeeext.....Oh yes. Having sorted out my teeth successfully, I thought it time to have a sight test, and had allocated two to three hundred pounds for new spectacles, the going rate. Much to my astonishment the optician declared that my eyes are in very good conditon - so I don't need new specs ! Pheeew - so the clover leaf IS wooorking.....an honest optician......
The other discovery in Munich was - the fooood - Boy - do they enjoy the local specialities , and such laaarge portions , not surprisingly, it's all sooo delicious! Anna L mentioned, whilst in Vienna recently, enjoying white asparagus with Hollandaise sauce - now I know the experience -ooooooooh - scrumptious, I indulged several times ...... what with that, the vast potato dumplings, sauerkraut, sweet beers and all the other specialities of Bavaria I'm lucky to be able to fit in to any of my clothes ...... That was another unexpected aspect of Bavarian culture - the regional costumes are worn by so many. Lederhosen, suede waistcoated, half socked, large booted, Tyrolean hatted men whizzing about on bikes with fascinating, individually styled beards and moustachios, elderly matrons on three wheelers, and voluptuous ladies (I didn't see any skinny ones) serving in the beer houses , dirndl clad, masses of blonde hair piled high with frizzy topknots - it felt as though I was in the middle of a "White Horse Inn" musical environment - but it's reeeeal - and I loooved it. Today is a Bank Holiday here, and true to type - it's really cold, dreary, pouring with rain and blowing a gale outside - so I'm taking in another showing of ....."The Sound of Music" ....!! Such pathos and innocence. Aah well, all's right with the world on such a day - if only....... k..p b.......g