Hilary Scott, Julian Lloyd Webber, the Civic Hall, the Garrick Inn, Nick Eborall, and The Vintner…

Well, Hilary arrived back safely and came down to Stratford on Friday, which made me very happy, and gave the old town of Stratford a little sprinkle of the Las Vegas glitter that had attached itself to her.

And we went out on the old town too on Friday night, which was busy and noisy, but with a good feel about it as hundreds headed for the theatre (and the dress Hilary was wearing made a few gentlemanly heads turn), or, like us, for the Civic Hall to see and listen to Julian Lloyd Webber.

Webber is, along with Steven Isserlis (whose Austrian parents fled to Britain in the 1930s), one of the finest cellists this country has ever produced, with a sure and emotional touch that brought his gorgeous Strad to life as he played a varied selection of pieces (accompanied by the exceptionally gifted pianist Pam Chowhan ), including quite a lot from his new CD Unexpected Songs. But more about the concert and his new CD on Classy Classical a little later.

It had been quite a long time since I’d been to the Civic Hall, a venue I know quite well as I’ve produced and directed a few shows in the place, most notably Reg Mitchell’s musical version of A Christmas Carol, with Guy Adams as Scrooge. The last thing I saw there was ‘An Evening with John Humphrys’, the BBC journalist and presenter.

The old building used to house the District and Town Councils, but when the District Council moved out in the 1970s to take up residence in Elizabeth House, the Town Council moved upstairs so that a modern concert hall-cum-theatre could be attached to the back of the 19th century façade. It quickly became a venue that was a ‘must do’ for a huge variety of musicians, orchestras, bands, and comedians, as well as many traveling professional theatre companies. It also became the home of Stratford’s own symphony orchestra, The Orchestra of the Swan, which is an extremely well-drilled professional outfit that travels the world.

But then, just a few years ago, the Town Trust (effectively the executors of Shakespeare’s estate) who oversee the running of the building decided in their wisdom that the Civic Hall must no longer take commercial bookings (which paid the bills and the wages), but instead only make the venue available to local people to house amateur dramatics, dances, crotchet displays, and film show lectures about the Wellington Bomber and the Great Western Railway. Which is fine, but they don’t pay those bills and wages, and with the fees charged pretty hefty the crotchet people couldn’t really afford to book the place anyway. It was the financial kiss of death.

Thankfully the new manager, Fiona Rae, made the trustees see the error of their ways and gradually brought back acts that people wanted to see, and a town of Stratford’s reputation deserved. Hence Julian Lloyd Webber on Friday night.

Anyway, it was a superb concert and afterwards we made our way to the Garrick Inn for a drink before we ate.

Read the rest of this entry »

The most beautiful woman in the World, Hilary Scott, sent me the following piece about a visit to the Grand Canyon she made a few days ago when she was in Las Vegas. It’s a superb piece of writing…

A life in the day of….Hilary and Pat

Monday 11th September 2006

Today has been not only a very significant day in the lives of the American people - five years since that devastating day in 2001 (and all the flags here are at half mast), but also a very long day in the lives of Hilary and Pat - a very, very long day!

I was dutifully awoken at 5am Las Vegas time (1pm UK time) by my man in Stratford to make the long journey to one of the most amazing wonders of the world - the Grand Canyon. As I was unsure, however, that my hastily typed email the night before requesting an alarm call would actually get through to my beloved (two previous attempts had failed), I had also set the in-room radio alarm and my cell phone (wow, 7 days and I’m already using Americanisms!). So within 15 seconds of the phone ringing, the whole room erupted into a volcano of sound and my room-mate, Pat, shot up screaming ‘Don’t shoot, I haven’t got my war paint on and my hair’s a mess!!’

After a couple of quick showers - Pat first, as she had to have her rollers in her hair for the statutory 30 minutes - and a wolfed down Danish stolen from the Luxor Hotel’s breakfast buffet the day before, we get ourselves into gear and rush over to the far side of the next hotel, the Excalibur (think knights and jousting) from where we will begin our journey to a mind-blowing wonder.

The first bus takes us only as far as the tour company’s offices where we disembark and have yet another Danish and coffee before meeting with the man who is to take us the 270 miles through Nevada and Arizona to the south rim of the canyon. Larry turns out to be a Stetson-sporting southern Californian with a lazy drawl not unlike Jack Nicholson’s, and what he didn’t know about Las Vegas, the Grand Canyon and all points between isn’t worth knowing (the term ‘amusing verbal diarrhoea’ springs to mind!).

About ¾ of an hour into our journey we cross the mighty Hoover Dam (originally named Boulder Dam) built to control and divert the unruly Colorado River, but which now supplies southern California with much of its power. Another result of the damming of the river was the formation of Lake Mead, the watersports playground for the citizens of Las Vegas and its surrounds. Its 100 mile length makes Lake Windermere’s 11 miles pale into insignificance. The border between Nevada and Arizona passes through the centre of this amazing feat of early 20th century engineering. After a brief photo opportunity stop Larry herds us all back into the bus for the onward journey initially to Kingman, a mid-desert town on the original Route 66 for a rest stop, and then on to Tusayan, the nearest town to the south rim of the canyon, whose name means ‘little or no water’.

Read the rest of this entry »

Well, today, Thursday, is the big day for Victoria and Craig who, at 4pm Las Vegas time, midnight Stratford time, are to be married, with Hilary, Victoria’s mother - the most beautiful woman in the world - in attendance, and I’m sure laughing and crying in equal measure.

So, Victoria and Craig, I’m raising my glass in your honour, and send a few Shakespearean words from ‘Venus and Adonis’ to help you toward a very happy marriage…

‘Give me my hand,’ saith he, ‘why dost thou feel it?’

‘Give me my heart,’ saith she, ‘and thou shoult have it…’

Have a great day!