It was high summer. The blackout was down; honeysuckle and red roses were spilling their blossoms in the warm sunshine which added to the gaiety and happiness on V.J. Day 1945, when peace with Japan was officially announced. It was time for celebrations, and the folk living in Myrtle Avenue, Bedfont, Middlesex (which is next door to the world-famous London Airport) decided they would like some entertainment. They would give a party at the end of the street.

Someone timidly knocked at the door of Mrs Venton's house and enquired “Please can you act, and can Joan play the piano?" They could; they did; they had also heard of a young fellow living round the corner in Hatton Road who was supposed to be musical. When approached with a view to mustering a choir to render a few solos and choruses, this young man - Kenneth Newell - was cleaning out his Cat Houses.

“What choir?" he said, washing vigorously. The Committee member - Alfred Davies - looked perturbed.

“We haven't got one yet, but we are having a party in the street and we thought a choir would be very good entertainment. Could you help us please?"

So Ken spent the afternoon writing out songs and dialogues, and some of the local yokels were hastily enlisted for rehearsals which were held in Mrs Venton's front room, with Joan (now Mrs Best) as pianist. There were about twenty performers altogether, five or six of whom still remain with the Society thirteen years later.

It has been said that Joan (the Prima Donna of the Piano) and Ken (the Prince of Producers) were really the “Mum and Dad" of the Society - and behold! what a lusty child they have produced, for never could any of that Myrtle Avenue party have anticipated how rapidly and sturdily it would grow, in finesse as well as in stature. That first concert was such a success that about a week later they were asked to go 'on tour' away across Bedfont Recreation Ground to Kingston Avenue to repeat their performance. The enthusiasm and potentialities of this little group were unbounded, and it was decided to form themselves into a Society, and from performing on air-raid shelters they progressed to staging a concert at Longford School, Bedfont.

They were still so few in number that each artist took part in almost every sketch or musical item, and Joan, besides being pianist, also had to act. She would accompany a soloist then, almost before the curtains were drawn, would dash through a door, along corridors, up flights of stairs to the dressing-room, wriggle into a crinoline and bonnet, and rush down onto the stage. Then after playing her part, another flying dash up the stairs, along corridors, disrobing as she went, and when the next item was announced, she was seated at the piano ready to accompany. In those days there was no 'dressing-room-snobbery' - they shared one communal room, no time even to hang a flimsy curtain, but in the race to change from one character into another, segregation was entirely irrelevant.

Another concert was given in aid of Merchant Navy Week and, believe it or not, they were able to hand over to the funds approximately £20.0.0 A repeat performance was given to the nurses at Ashford Hospital, London Road, Ashford, for which Ken had written a Comic Opera, a skit on “The Babes in the Wood". Fred Morris in short frilly frock with puff sleeves was one of the Babes, and as the Good Fairy, Bette (Mrs Venton) had to trip onto the stage dressed in ballet skirt and football boots. On reaching the Hall, however, she found her boots were missing, so Alf Smith (who had not yet made his debut as an actor but was giving a hand behind the scenes) volunteered to go and look for them. It was a very dark night, and whilst searching among the bushes in the Hospital grounds on all fours, he nearly collided with a nurse. He explained he was looking for a lady's football boots, but the terrified nurse fled into the darkness.

In a sketch “The Poor Wot 'Elps The Poor" the cast were all dressed in unrelieved black, with Joan wearing a very smart pair of black button boots and the whole stage setting one of sepulchral melancholy. This was intended to be side-splitting comedy, but there was not a titter from the audience, nor a solitary laugh throughout the whole performance. A tribute perhaps to their splendid acting which so engrossed them (the audience) that they dare not laugh for fear of missing a single word.

The Society's repertoire was now increasing steadily, and to “Passing By" and “In A Monastery Garden" was added “The Easter Hymn" from “Cavalleria Rusticana" and “A Cornish Rhapsody" was played repeatedly during scene changes. To give a professional touch to “The Rosary" the ladies were attired in nuns' garb made from black-out material, and the men wore dark blankets with dressing-gown cords round their middles, and little skull caps which Joan (pianist, actress and seamstress) sat up nearly all one night to finish. Following a concert at the William Byrd School in Bath Road, Hounslow, a show was given at Wimpey's Camp. This was their first 'professional' engagement when a fee of five guineas was asked - and actually paid - for their services. Wimpey's had painted and constructed the scenery which was held together with slots, but during one scene it became unslotted and had to be propped up by the members of the cast.

By this time the Society had formed a Committee, with Fred Morris as Secretary and Joan Venton as Treasurer. There were some uneasy feelings when she arrived one evening in a fur coat, but as it was discovered the funds were still intact, preparations for the next Show went on.

Doris Seaman

1958

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