|
THE VAGABOND KING - APRIL 1949 |
|
Perhaps the most outstanding memories of this show at Staines Town Hall were that it gave every individual member an opportunity to be just themselves, whether the scene was one of ribald laughter, persistent drinking, intoxicated animation, or the dignified stateliness of the Court of King Louis XI of France. Everyone threw themselves whole-heartedly into the rowdyism of the Tavern Scene which opened the first act, in which Bob Halls excelled himself in looking the most villainous villain that ever made advances to an amorous trollope. In no other play (to date) has the opening of a show ever displayed such a variety of rags which barely concealed the voluptuous limbs beneath, and as we waited tensed and poised for the curtain to go up, a flutter of ecstatic excitement made us breathless. Even the principals were keyed to bursting point; the atmosphere was electric as we waited for the overture to end, and a little thrill of nervousness ran round the whole company. |
|
The stage was exceedingly inadequate for such a big cast, but by eliminating some of the scenery, and by the use of rickety steps leading on to the very edge of the apron, all the crowd scenes were skilfully set, and before the end of the first Act the Company had sung their hearts out to the very appreciative audience. Little did they know, however, that as we sang the Te Deum, in which we walked with slow solemn steps into the Church, with our hands pressed together in an attitude of supplication, how much we had to discipline ourselves for this moving spectacle. The dresses were very long and very heavy, and the tall unwieldy head-dresses had long flowing veils which floated behind. At the crucial moment we were bunked up on to the stage by two stalwart men who then arranged our frocks, held on to our veils until we had put our left foot forward in front of the scenery, then with an encouraging pat on our bustles, we joined the stately procession across the stage. Then as we passed through the Church door we jumped into the arms of two more men who bounced us behind them and stood ready to catch the next nun. |
|
In this show Mac was probably at his best, his powerful voice being used to full advantage. As King Louis XI it was necessary for Dennis Parker to make himself physically unattractive, and whilst dressing ready for the opening numbers, he could be seen munching sandwiches and rolling wax between his hands, moulding a new nose for the character part; a long aquiline nose as befitted French Royalty in the 16th Century. As the ladies of the chorus were combing their tresses, two of them - Nan Smith and Edith Curtis - were immediately set on from behind by Phyllis Knight (Huguette) who ran her hands through their hair and ruffled it unmercifully. "Can't go on with a beautiful hair-do if you're supposed to be a tavern slut" she said, and proceeded to go the round of the chorus in similar fashion. |
|
The Apache Dance of Geraldine Hearson - sultry, titian-haired Gerry - and Alf Smith was a striking example of the vivid contrast that this show provided and we all gasped with real concern when he threw her into a heap in the corner. |
|
In order to advertise the show more widely, it was suggested a banner should be strung up across the Staines Town Hall so that it could be seen by the market which operates in the Square. A long white sheet was provided, and one of the members diligently machined across it in yellow braid the title and dates of the performances. But it was never used - the authorities would not allow it to adorn the building. In these days we just order a banner to be printed and secure it to the railings surrounding the grounds of the Feltham Council Offices. |
|
THAMES VALLEY TIMES - 4 MAY 1949 |
|
Somewhere on the Great West Road between Hounslow and Staines lies the village of Hatton. The only facts I can ascertain about this village is that it has a Corner and an inn; its population is too small to be included in my gazetteer. But if the rude forefathers of this village hamlet slept, for the past three years its present inhabitants have been very much alive, and future historians will have to find a place for the Hatton Choral & Operatic Society which spends a crowded week of glorious life of each year playing light opera on the tiny stage of Staines Town Hall. |
|
And crowded is the right word. Last week the whole village, forgetting its respectability, moved to the Paris of the 15th century - a Paris of lechery, debauchery and intrigue. On Saturday evening when the curtain rose on the tavern scene at the final performance of "The Vagabond King" I should imagine that every person in Hatton between the ages of 15 and 50, with the addition of a few hundred outsiders, was on the stage. I have never seen such a crowd or one that was so well handled. Though the floor was literally littered with debauchees, drunkards, rakes, harridans and trollops, there was still space for Geraldine Hearson and Alfred Smith to give an Apache dance which I suppose was as near to the Seine as proximity to the Thames would allow. When Louis XI (Dennis Parker) and his attendant (Herbert Robinson) joined the throng, there was still room for the arch adventurer, poet and rapscallion, Francois Villon, admirably played and sung by Daniel McConnachie. He has the build, power and manner to dominate every scene. He also set the example of standing well to the front of the stage when singing and all his words were audible throughout the hall, an example that other principals should note and follow in future productions. The chief offenders were the ladies, an exception being Lilian Ingram who as Katherine de Vaucelles did manage to make herself heard most of the time. Such a large cast was employed that it is only possible to mention the excellent comedy of Walter Ingram (Guy Tabarie), the fine character study of Robert Halls as the cringing sinister plotter Rene, Hilda Spence as the tavern hostess Margot, Marjorie Brace who made a pretty and attractive Lady Mary, and the dancers Violet Davies, Geraldine Hearson, June Knight, Joyce Lavender and Betty Woodhead who, thanks to the training of Dorothy Purrott, produced an astonishing variety of steps and movement in an incredibly small space. The chorus, which had plenty of work to do, stuck bravely to its task, thoroughly let itself go in the Vagabonds' Song and thoroughly enjoyed it. So did the audience. |
|
Reginald Curtis, who had under his direction a creditable orchestra, conducted with precision and care, and did a particularly good job in inducing his players to give real pianissimo playing as a background to the dialogue. |
|
But the honours of the evening went to the producer Kenneth Newell. After seeing this show, I believe Mr Newell would have no difficulty in putting a quart into a pint pot with room to spare. |
|
KEYNOTE |
|
The Middlesex Chronicle also gave a very complimentary review but commented that “it was not until Saturday evening that the number of the audience fully justified all that had gone into the production” |