When I First Put This Uniform On

I have always sung. For as long as I can remember I was always throwing my voice out to anyone who would listen. Church and School choirs, the local Operatic society and various amateur concert parties in and around Staffordshire. I was serious enough about it to enter Music Festivals and even won some pots. My most prestigious entry was in the 1967 Llangollen International Eisteddfod and though I didn't win first prize I came a creditable third out of a class of thirty six which was adjudicated by the great English composer Michael Head. Twelve years before I sang there Llangollen was graced with the voice of Luciano Pavarotti who sang with a choir from Modena, Italy, unfortunately not as a soloist, but his choir won in their class. In 1968 Placido Domingo made a guest appearance there just as his majestic international career was taking off.
At college I sang in a Folk group and it was a very good grounding in basic music and performance but my heart lay with Opera and so my training began with a local teacher, Heather Rich. Gilbert and Sullivan was a closed book to me until a workmate told me to go and see the D'Oyly Carte at the Grand Theatre Wolverhampton. I saw The Gondoliers, which, for the first time, and from an audience perspective I found most enjoyable, though it later became a very boring show to do as a chorister. It was the old production in which Kenneth Sandford, during his song 'I Stole The Prince' did his little dance with the head waggle which my Mother for one found so funny. I particularly remember Pauline Wales as Tessa, Anthony Raffell in the small part of Georgio and the elegantly persuasive tenor David Palmer as Marco. Pauline had, and still has a lovely, warm mezzo and a twinkle in the eye which made Tessa more of a minx than some I have since seen. Anthony must have registered to me as a voice to reckon with as he subsequently went on to have a major operatic career, singing all over Europe in Wagner with an acclaimed Hans Sachs at the Met. I saw him in Lohengrin once at Mannheim and in one scene he gave a blood curdling scream which had all the singers there clutching at their throats in pain. It certainly was a very committed performance. Coming toward the end of his illustrious career he latterly appeared in The Phantom Of The Opera as Monsieur Firmin, one of the Opera Managers, as indeed did ex-Carte singer Gareth Jones. Another singer late of The Carte, Barry Clark, was in the original cast of Phantom and can be heard on the original cast recording as the auctioneer. (With a little prompting from Gareth I too joined the cast of Phantom covering the role of Signor Piangi which I played hundreds of times during my three years there and John Ayldon, Guy Mathews, Julia Goss and Evette Davies also did a stint in The Phantom, as did Jill Washington who was a perfect Christine Daiae. ) David Palmer stays in the memory mainly for his encore of Sparkling Eyes which he sang entirely in a Mezzo Voce reminiscent of Richard Tauber's mellifluous head tones. It brought the house down. Small wonder that David left the company to take up a contract at Heidelberg where he had a successful career in Opera. He and Anthony joined a long line of D'Oyly Carters who went on to greater things, but I digress.

I was still not convinced by Gilbert and Sullivan until I gained my first experience of it when I joined the D'Oyly Carte Opera Company as chorister in 1968.
I did not have the advantage of a full and rounded musical education at any of the colleges but learned my basic theory on the bus while travelling to and from college and work and having my progress marked by my first singing teacher. I gained a Grade Vl pass in Theory in the Joint London Boards Exams and a Grade Vlll in Singing. I was in love with Opera and my inspiration was the great Swedish Tenor Jussi Bjoerling, so it came as something of a culture shock to be embarking on something so English, so tuneful, so delightful.

A very posed programme shot for my first starring role as Captain Charteris in Bilston Operatic's production of 'The Quaker Girl' by Lionel Monckton

I was a member of the The Bilston Operatic Company where I had my first experience of playing roles mostly in American Musicals, though my first principal part was as Captain Charteris in Lionel Monckton's 'The Quaker Girl'. This and several other parts gave me the great desire to make performing an important part of my life. I had auditioned for the Welsh National Opera without success when my chance came with the D'Oyly Carte. It was my first professional singing job and laid the foundation for an extended career in singing and theatre, giving me some wonderful insights into stagecraft and performance which only comes with 'doing it', and when that practical knowlege is learned at the hands of such masters as Kenneth Sandford and John Reed it is an education indeed.

Both Ken and John had perfect timing and I gradually learned the art of pace in dialogue (it's slower than you think!) projection, (speaking clearly and loudly enough for that little hard-of-hearing chap at the back of the stalls to hear) 'playing the pauses' (leaving moments of silence in dialogue for points to be made, for the audience to grow into the moment and for the powerful delivery of a punch-line), when and how to move and to be still, what to do with uncontrollable hands, how to keep the voice even and melodious, how to make the most of Gilbert's wonderful words and Sullivan's equally seductive music (diction, enunciation, breathing etc.) and many more things were opened up to me here, things which, particularly in respect of Gilbert and Sullivan, I could never have learned better elsewhere. I owe a great deal to my D'Oyly Carte training and particularly to Ken and John for their generosity towards other performers.

Cast members of 'Trial By Jury'. From the Left we have Barry Clark and Brian Sharpe as members of the jury, Jon Ellison as the Learned Judge, John Broad as the Usher and myself as The Defendant.

My main responsibility, after chorus work in The Carte was understudying several of the tenor roles while playing some of the so-called 'small parts' which alluded to the minor roles being played, not to any personal deficiency. My first solo line on stage was as Francesco in the Gondoliers, followed by the 3d Ghost in Ruddigore, 1st Yeoman and Viscount Mentone in The Grand Duke (during my final year). The roles I sang in my own right were Leonard Meryll and The Defendant while covering Frederick, Fairfax, Nanki Poo, Ralph Rackstraw, Hilarion, Tolloller, Luiz and Box. I also learnt Richard Dauntless and the Duke in Patience as an unofficial second understudy though I was never called upon to perform these.

As I have already said, before the veil was lifted from my eyes, G&S was in a pigeon-hole entitled 'Rumty-Tumty Museum Pieces'. I was totally unaware of the rabid esteem held by it's most ardent followers or I might never have tried my fortune here. As it turned out Fate, it seems, took a hand. My voice training had led me to decide that I ought to attempt to make a professional go of it, though I was aiming at Grand Opera. I had auditioned for The Welsh National Opera without success and was awaiting audition dates for Sadler's Wells Opera (later the ENO) and Scottish Opera when I saw an advert in The Stage which read, 'a new touring opera company being formed. Only those interested in touring need apply'. So I applied and much to my surprise it turned out to be the D'Oyly Carte. It seems that when members left the D'Oyly fold and auditions had to be held such was the yearning among amateur G & S fans out there to become members of THE D'OYLY CARTE that open auditions were almost impossible to manage so subterfuge was called upon and adverts such as this appeared in the press. I was invited to audition at the Opera House Manchester and when I arrived word had already spread as the place was swarming with every wannabe in the district, all carrying scores. Imagine my surprise on walking in to this mass of hopefuls to be told I was next on. It seems, for all their waiting for their chance most of the hoard would never get to sing, only those of us invited by Miss Carte, and a few hopefuls if time allowed, appeared on the stage. I arrived in the wings to be met by Will Cowley the accompanist who thought I was a bass as I am tall and 'well-built'! I sang 'Dies Bildniss Ist Bezaubernd Schon' from the Magic Flute and was asked to audition for Miss carte at the Savoy the following week.

This audition was also something of a trial as all the 'top brass' were out front. However, a slightly comic incident put me at my ease and I was able to face the task with fewer nerves than usual. One of the other auditioners, a small, very camp lad asked me how long I'd been having voice training. I told him five years, he said he'd only been having lessons for two weeks, and a few minutes later he was called to the stage. He said he was going to sing 'The English Rose' from 'Merrie England' by Edward German, which of course starts with 'Dan Cupid Hath A Garden....' . He launched into the song -'Dan Cupid..' 'THANK YOU!' boomed Freddy Lloyd's voice from the stalls cutting the lad dead. 'Try again next year.' was the advice. As he came off the stage he looked at me and said, 'Oh shit! Back to the grindstone!' I don't recall how I sang after that but either it was alright or I was the right size to fit the costumes of the man who I was to replace, as I got in.

The news soon spread among my friends some of whom were members of the local G&S society. It was they who gave me to understand the rather singular nature of the club I was joining, almost as if I was donning a special uniform which set me apart from all amateur aspirations and deposited me in a land, seen by them, as if set in an operetta. All I knew was that I was about to embark on a special journey which just might fulfill my dream.

A short footnote, a propos of nothing! A few months prior to this audition I was working in a bookshop in Wolverhampton and one of the female staff, the redoutable Mrs Dickson, was a psychic medium in training. She had said to me then that she had had a strange dream in which she saw two candles, one flickering with its last light while the other was shooting flames high. She had told her medium trainer about it and he said the dream was referring to a young man she worked with (me!) who's life was about to undergo a total change. The old life was dying, but not quite dead, but he said that within six months the new life would take him to the other side of the world. Six months later I was in the D'Oyly Carte and touring America.

The Defendant surrounded by the beautiful bridesmaids Janet Brandreth, Christine Johnson, Maggie Bourgein and Ros Griffiths, with Andrea David and Janet Innes in the background.

Six weeks of quite gruelling work learning five operettas both musically and then with partners on stage was a baptism of fire and a complete change in my lifestyle as prior to this I had tried my hand at teaching and bookshop management. My musical shortcomings were made apparent as the four girls (Frances Gregory, Anne Guthrie, Sue Minshalland Brenda Atherton) and one man (Mike Tuckey) who joined with me either read music, knew the pieces already or were more adept at learning than me. I proved to be a sore test to the coach who, when I was having trouble learning one line accused me of being musically thick. No doubt this was true but I think the set of my shoulders and the look in my eye made him revise his opinion as he was much smaller than me. Still, he was a good coach and I eventually got to grips with the music. With the music tucked under our belts we entered into the production stage with Jimmy Marsland, a real character who showed us the moves with even more patience than the music coach. Then we met the company. That first day with the whole company stays in my memory as I began to understand exactly what I had let myself in for, and it was not a bad feeling. Glyn Adams, a Tenor of several years standing was a great help and pulled me around the stage. He, David Young, and David Rayson, two other Tenors, made me look at least a respectable replacement in the ranks.

After rehearsals Jimmy Marsland's enthusiasm would lead him to continue giving instruction even in the street, as here. Ros Griffiths and Roberta Morrell are on the receiving end while Glyn Hale strides purposefully away. The rehearsal was in Oxford and was of The Gondoliers. The gentlemen understudies were just about to come out and I do believe that shortly after this picture was taken, the incident relating to the tramp, as mentioned below, took place.

Jimmy Marsland was the 'head boy', for want of a better term. He was a former chorister who knew all the moves and made sure we were all proficient choristers. Jimmy's life was the D'Oyly Carte and he was a most reliable trainer, even if he had lost sight of some of the reasons for some of the 'business' we had to perform. His stock answer when asked about reasons why we had to do something was almost invariably, "Because it's in the book!" (The book was the red-bound libretto of the operetta with all the notes and moves written in, and was the Bible as far as we were concerned.) Jimmy was a character and there are many stories about him. Gareth Jones, who joined the Carte after me but who has gone on to become Kenneth Sandford's natural successor tells this one. The new choristers were being taken through Pinafore in the Ballet Rehearsal room at Sadlers Wells Theatre. Jimmy had organised the set with chairs and the staircase leading up to the poop deck was represented by a set of step ladders. When it came to the 'Oh joy, oh rapture unforseen...' ensemble the sailors paired off with the sisters, cousins and aunts and went walkabout around the set. They only had to be sure to be back in position by the time the chorus came back in, but Jimmy couldn't make that cut, he had to sing his way through it. So the pairs went around the set, and Gareth took his girl up to the step ladder and proceeded to help her up the steps. Jimmy, seeing this, suddenly stopped the rehearsal and shouted, "Stop! Stop! You can't go up there, only the Captain is allowed up there!" Talk about living the part.
The stage business was never far from Jimmy's mind and has even been known to carry this on outside the rehearsal room. On one occasion Mike Tuckey and Peter Raper were in transit between towns and had stopped at a roadside cafe, really a truckers' refreshment stop. They had just tucked into their meal when in walked Jimmy. He went and got his food then spotted them at the table. As he put his plate down he said to Peter, 'That step in Pinafore - you're getting it all wrong - it goes like this.' and proceeded to dance the steps in front of an incredulous audience of butcher-than-thou lorry drivers, much to Mike and Peter's discomort. Another time he had been rehearsing The Gondoliers and had been teaching the understudies the Gavotte from the second act which went something like 'In out, In out, down - point! In out, In out, down - point! Left - Point! Right - Point! Forward - bow.' The rehearsal had ended and the lads were walking down the street, in Oxford it was, and outside a cafe called The Golden Egg when Jimmy approached and continued the lesson in the street. 'In out, In out, down - point!' Just then he was approached by a tramp who solicited him for a shilling. Without breaking step Jimmy continued, ' In out, In out, Piss - Off! Left - Point! Right - Point! Forward - bow.' There are many other stories but these will have to do here.

Clicking on the blue links above and below will open pages in one of several G&S sites (listed below) which you can browse at leisure. They are

Memories Of The D'Oyly Carte
Who Was Who In The D'Oyly Carte
The G & S Archive
Savoynet