The national press has been full of some good news about how this wonderful, dry summer has revealed the best showing of aerial photos of archaeology for years.
Pardon? The last time I looked out of the window there were big black clouds and it was on the verge of tipping it down.
It seems to have been like that since the first week of July – when, incidentally, I got back from a fortnight in Cornwall feeling very pleased with myself for getting it right again. It was hot and sunny for 13 of our 14 days by the sea.
Then, as usual, the school summer holidays were blighted by cool, damp weather. There's not been much playing out in the garden for our two kids.
Sometimes I wonder if the swing set, climbing frame and see-saw could go back on eBay, where I got them from.
Yet, we've had a few days away and have been lucky. Mid-week trips to the south-west and north-west came up trumps.
Somehow, it seems as though we haven't had a summer, except for the one way back in the springtime.
We were all getting into work after a bad night's sleep because it was so hot. I remember having windows open and the bed covers off.
Yet, according to the papers, the weather conditions since early summer have allowed experts to take aerial photos of dozens of so-called crop mark sites.
They reveal a Roman camp in Dorset, a fortress in North Yorkshire, more sites in the West Midlands, Cumbria, the Yorkshire Wolds and Vale of York. Sixty new sites, mainly prehistoric, were found in just one day over the East Riding.
I'm a big fan of archaeology – I've even got a qualification in it – so this is fantastic news for enthusiasts.
And even the Met Office agrees with me about the weather: "July saw more than twice the normal rainfall in a swathe from west Wales through north-west England, southern and eastern Scotland to Shetland.
"It was also wetter than normal across most of the rest of Scotland and Wales and in Northern Ireland."
So what's all this about a great summer?
Oh, hang on – there's a "but": "In sharp contrast," it says, "much of the Midlands, eastern and southern England were very dry, with less than half the normal amount of rain in counties from Cambridgeshire to Sussex. Overall, it was duller than average, especially in many western areas."
So, there we have it. It's not been a wet summer on the whole, even for August, apparently. Just dull. And, with more of the past being revealed than at any point since the great drought of 1976, that's hardly dull, is it?
Words by Patrick Astill, first published, and copyright Derby Telegraph
Monday, September 6
Friday, August 27
Why it's a numbers game for Buddy Greco
Life is something of a numbers game for Buddy Greco. He’s just turned 84 and this is his 60th visit to the UK.
He’s on a run of 33 dates around the UK, on the back of his 70th album.
The big draw is that he’s no tribute act. The Rat Pack of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis were his best friends in the 60s and a quick search of the internet throws up dozens of images of them all having fun together during those heady days in Vegas.
Frank Sinatra rated his pal highly, saying “Buddy can make anything swing - nobody comes close in that department".
“The originals were my dearest friends in the world and I certainly miss them,” said Buddy.
“I tell stories about my relationship with Frank and Sammy and so on during the evening.”
Buddy Greco is a true legend and has been headlining in Vegas since the 1950s, yet his voice remains mellow and smooth. He started his career as pianist and vocalist for jazz musician Benny Goodman. When Goodman was recruiting for a bebop band, Buddy was one of the musicians he hired. Buddy, of course, went on to become one of America’s most popular entertainers.
He boasts Grammy and Emmy awards along hits including The Lady Is Tramp, Around The World and Girl Talk.
And now he’s taken on this huge UK tour and shows no sign of slowing.
Buddy says: “I’ve been very fortunate. My father lived until he was 99 and I have just turned 84.
“The music business is only a number. I don’t look it and certainly don’t feel it.
“I have always had a very successful career in Britain. This is my 60th trip here over the years.
“I first came with Benny Goodman in 1949. People have been wonderful to me all of my life. At one of the venues this time around a man in his 80s came up to me and asked me to sign a flyer from that Benny Goodman concert.
“Yet we have a whole new audience too. Young kids want to know about what it was like. They want to know about Marilyn Monroe, who was also one of my good friends. I love doing this.
“I do it because I love it. I’m now at that point where I just enjoy it more and more.”
Frank and Buddy
The tour takes in mostly theatres, compared with the cabaret venues of the past.
Buddy takes to the stage and does some numbers from his vast repertoire along with a little bit of chat about his great friends in the Rat Pack and their golden says in Vegas, then the tribute band The Rat Pack Is Back do their stuff, before the intermission. After that, Buddy’s wife of Lezlie Anders - who he is proud to point out is more than a couple of decades younger than he is – comes on for her tribute to Peggy Lee, before the pair combine for the finale. The Goodman Allstars Band and the Flamingo Vegas Showgirls complete the Las Vegas Experience.
While he’s not traveling, he’s settling down in the south-east to tweak his stage musical – a ‘Fever’ tribute to Peggy Lee, which he’s planning to take to the West End next year.
“We’ve found a gorgeous flat in Westcliffe on sea. I sold my house and nightclub in Palm Springs – we’re going to be here for quite a while!”
And there seems to be no stopping the creative talent that already has an impressive pedigree: “I’m a piano player/singer, not the other way around,” he said. “I try to get my hand into as many things as possible.”
“I’ve just finished my 70th album and I’m still writing, and recording and performing. And as long as the good Lord allows that’ I’ll carry on!”
Words by Patrick Astill, first published, and copyright Derby Telegraph
He’s on a run of 33 dates around the UK, on the back of his 70th album.
The big draw is that he’s no tribute act. The Rat Pack of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis were his best friends in the 60s and a quick search of the internet throws up dozens of images of them all having fun together during those heady days in Vegas.
Frank Sinatra rated his pal highly, saying “Buddy can make anything swing - nobody comes close in that department".
“The originals were my dearest friends in the world and I certainly miss them,” said Buddy.
“I tell stories about my relationship with Frank and Sammy and so on during the evening.”
Buddy Greco is a true legend and has been headlining in Vegas since the 1950s, yet his voice remains mellow and smooth. He started his career as pianist and vocalist for jazz musician Benny Goodman. When Goodman was recruiting for a bebop band, Buddy was one of the musicians he hired. Buddy, of course, went on to become one of America’s most popular entertainers.
He boasts Grammy and Emmy awards along hits including The Lady Is Tramp, Around The World and Girl Talk.
And now he’s taken on this huge UK tour and shows no sign of slowing.
Buddy says: “I’ve been very fortunate. My father lived until he was 99 and I have just turned 84.
“The music business is only a number. I don’t look it and certainly don’t feel it.
“I have always had a very successful career in Britain. This is my 60th trip here over the years.
“I first came with Benny Goodman in 1949. People have been wonderful to me all of my life. At one of the venues this time around a man in his 80s came up to me and asked me to sign a flyer from that Benny Goodman concert.
“Yet we have a whole new audience too. Young kids want to know about what it was like. They want to know about Marilyn Monroe, who was also one of my good friends. I love doing this.
“I do it because I love it. I’m now at that point where I just enjoy it more and more.”
The tour takes in mostly theatres, compared with the cabaret venues of the past.
Buddy takes to the stage and does some numbers from his vast repertoire along with a little bit of chat about his great friends in the Rat Pack and their golden says in Vegas, then the tribute band The Rat Pack Is Back do their stuff, before the intermission. After that, Buddy’s wife of Lezlie Anders - who he is proud to point out is more than a couple of decades younger than he is – comes on for her tribute to Peggy Lee, before the pair combine for the finale. The Goodman Allstars Band and the Flamingo Vegas Showgirls complete the Las Vegas Experience.
While he’s not traveling, he’s settling down in the south-east to tweak his stage musical – a ‘Fever’ tribute to Peggy Lee, which he’s planning to take to the West End next year.
“We’ve found a gorgeous flat in Westcliffe on sea. I sold my house and nightclub in Palm Springs – we’re going to be here for quite a while!”
And there seems to be no stopping the creative talent that already has an impressive pedigree: “I’m a piano player/singer, not the other way around,” he said. “I try to get my hand into as many things as possible.”
“I’ve just finished my 70th album and I’m still writing, and recording and performing. And as long as the good Lord allows that’ I’ll carry on!”
Words by Patrick Astill, first published, and copyright Derby Telegraph
Tales of pilots lured to their deaths
Stroll across the High Peak and you’ll always enjoy some of the country’s finest scenery.
Wander only a few minutes away from the main paths and – if you know where to look – you’ll be rewarded with an awe-inspiring, time-travel moment, where you can see and sometimes feel the ghosts of the past.
For scattered across an area from Glossop to the west and Sheffield’s borders on the east are almost 70 air crash sites, around half with debris still laying on the ground.
A new book, High Peak Air Crash Sites, explains how the sheer height of the national park lured pilots and navigators into believing they were 2,000ft up, rather than just inches above moorland sitting 2,000ft above sea level.
The evidence is there through the tons of metal strewn across 30 individual sites. A further 36 sites, often showing tell-tale craters and crash scars, can also be found. Most date from the Second World War but others are from as recently as 2006.
The author, Pat Cunningham, is a former RAF and British Midland aviator of 40 years standing, with more than 20,000 hours of operational and commercial flying under his belt.
The book tells the moving story behind each crash, discovered using coroner’s reports and researching official investigations as well as talking to the people involved and people who know the land today.
Inevitably they are stories of tragedy. One, from 1948, recalls how a US Air Force Boeing F-13A perished along with its 13-man crew on a local delivery flight between Scampton, in Lincolnshire, and Burtonwood, Liverpool, after a successful mission over Russia during the blockade of Berlin. It was their final flight and the crew would have been on their way back to the US a few days later.
Cloud conditions led the pilot, Captain Landon Tanner, to use Visual Flight Rules for the 86-mile trip. But he never completed the 22-minute journey.
Pat, getting to the human story behind the tragedies, records that the aircraft wreckage was found in line with the direct route it would have taken, and just three miles north.
The book records: “There had been no witnesses and no recorded emergency transmissions. Beyond this, a crew member’s watch had been smashed while reading 1050 hours. Taking this as the time of impact, and calculating from the known take-off time to obtain the planned estimate for Burtonwood – around 1037 hours – they might well have reasoned that the crew has done some sightseeing before entering the cloud belt; a reasonable assumption in view of their imminent departure from the United Kingdom.”
Pat, who lives in central Derby, said: “I’m a flier and a walker and I take an interest from both points of view.
“Many walkers are only interested if there is a lot of metal about but I find the stories fascinating.
“It’s the human side that’s important. A lot of people would have said in the 40s, for instance, that a crew should have known better. But you have to realise these were young chaps who were floating around in a very darkened landscape and with communications silence, so they were on a hiding to nothing.
“And very, very few were flying in anger. Of the 300 crashes in the wider area, we have about four with battle damage.
“Most were simply getting lost thinking they were over low ground and thinking they had flown higher.”
High Peak Air Crash Sites is illustrated with photographs on almost every page, as well as map references to allow walkers and sightseers to pinpoint these historic and fascinating monuments to the past.
High Peak Air Crashes (Central), [ISBN 978 1 84674 219 4] is by Pat Cunningham and published in paperback by Countryside Books, priced £12.99.
(Words by Patrick Astill; First published and copyright Derby Telegraph 27-8-2010)
Wander only a few minutes away from the main paths and – if you know where to look – you’ll be rewarded with an awe-inspiring, time-travel moment, where you can see and sometimes feel the ghosts of the past.
For scattered across an area from Glossop to the west and Sheffield’s borders on the east are almost 70 air crash sites, around half with debris still laying on the ground.
A new book, High Peak Air Crash Sites, explains how the sheer height of the national park lured pilots and navigators into believing they were 2,000ft up, rather than just inches above moorland sitting 2,000ft above sea level.
The evidence is there through the tons of metal strewn across 30 individual sites. A further 36 sites, often showing tell-tale craters and crash scars, can also be found. Most date from the Second World War but others are from as recently as 2006.
The author, Pat Cunningham, is a former RAF and British Midland aviator of 40 years standing, with more than 20,000 hours of operational and commercial flying under his belt.
The book tells the moving story behind each crash, discovered using coroner’s reports and researching official investigations as well as talking to the people involved and people who know the land today.
Inevitably they are stories of tragedy. One, from 1948, recalls how a US Air Force Boeing F-13A perished along with its 13-man crew on a local delivery flight between Scampton, in Lincolnshire, and Burtonwood, Liverpool, after a successful mission over Russia during the blockade of Berlin. It was their final flight and the crew would have been on their way back to the US a few days later.
Cloud conditions led the pilot, Captain Landon Tanner, to use Visual Flight Rules for the 86-mile trip. But he never completed the 22-minute journey.
Pat, getting to the human story behind the tragedies, records that the aircraft wreckage was found in line with the direct route it would have taken, and just three miles north.
The book records: “There had been no witnesses and no recorded emergency transmissions. Beyond this, a crew member’s watch had been smashed while reading 1050 hours. Taking this as the time of impact, and calculating from the known take-off time to obtain the planned estimate for Burtonwood – around 1037 hours – they might well have reasoned that the crew has done some sightseeing before entering the cloud belt; a reasonable assumption in view of their imminent departure from the United Kingdom.”
Pat, who lives in central Derby, said: “I’m a flier and a walker and I take an interest from both points of view.
“Many walkers are only interested if there is a lot of metal about but I find the stories fascinating.
“It’s the human side that’s important. A lot of people would have said in the 40s, for instance, that a crew should have known better. But you have to realise these were young chaps who were floating around in a very darkened landscape and with communications silence, so they were on a hiding to nothing.
“And very, very few were flying in anger. Of the 300 crashes in the wider area, we have about four with battle damage.
“Most were simply getting lost thinking they were over low ground and thinking they had flown higher.”
High Peak Air Crash Sites is illustrated with photographs on almost every page, as well as map references to allow walkers and sightseers to pinpoint these historic and fascinating monuments to the past.
High Peak Air Crashes (Central), [ISBN 978 1 84674 219 4] is by Pat Cunningham and published in paperback by Countryside Books, priced £12.99.
(Words by Patrick Astill; First published and copyright Derby Telegraph 27-8-2010)
Monday, August 23
Author Wendy took on 'bad boy' persona for tale of art, sex and money
Chick-lit author Wendy Holden has hit on an unusual marketing ploy for her latest novel, Gallery Girl.
It's set in the "high-octane world of art, sex and money" – wonderful ingredients to transform into her latest page-turner.
Wendy made time to take on the persona of her bad-boy artist character and launched an art exhibition which opened in London for a single night earlier this week.
It showcased 12 contemporary artworks, with Wendy doing the creative work to help her get into the mindset of Zeb Spaw, the villain of Gallery Girl, which came out yesterday.
She's not without a track record for being artistic.
As well as being a journalist on The Sunday Times, Tatler and The Mail on Sunday before becoming a full-time author, she's also dabbled professionally at drawing and painting, and loves sculpture and galleries.
The spoof show, angry_with_britain, by Zeb/Wendy includes Fifteen Metres of Fame, his homage to Warhol, a 15m rope hung with pictures of celebrities mounted on cardboard (mostly from All Bran boxes).
There is also Tripetych, three panels featuring blown-up images of offal.
The exhibition is trailed as "spoof and a bit of fun", and Wendy's character is "angry".
"He's not so much an angry young man as an angry middle-aged man," she said.
"I had to get inside his angry mind and also those people surrounding him. There are so many satellites of people, dealers and those who surround him, like the owner of the gallery, patrons, a predatory female nymphomaniac collector…
"In the middle of this is my heroine. She doesn't particularly like the world she has been thrown into but has to get to know it more.
"What I'm always looking for is something behind the scenes of a glamorous world, and it's got to be funny.
"The very fact of being a glamorous person is inherently funny, because it's so difficult for them to keep their façade. There's a gap between what we see and what actually goes on.
"The world of contemporary art is so terribly po-faced, it's ripe for comedy.
"Contemporary art is a perfect subject, full of money and fame. There's so much potential humour."
It was when Wendy created the character of Zeb for Gallery Girl that she decided she wanted to do some of his awful work for herself. His masterpieces included spraying crisps gold and labelling them Golden Wonder, or making a Barbie doll's toilet gold and calling it Flash in the Pan.
"I really did enjoy writing it," she said. "I've gone further than ever before with a character, not just in creating him but realising some of his artwork too."
She'd already written about the film world and glossy magazines, all with those vital ingredients of money, power and people, often pretending they are something they're not.
Of course, in the narrative of Gallery Girl, Zeb lives up to the pretence, and learns that nailing a pair of pants to chipboard will get him more headlines and interest than the traditional styles. So that's the direction he goes off in. He is drawn as a very clever person who markets his own art.
Not a career path that Wendy, now 45, saw through. "When I first started out in the late 80s my first career was as a cartoonist for all sorts of people. I realised I probably wasn't going to make a career out of that and it fell by the wayside," she said.
But she's doing just fine without that particular string to her bow. Away from the fiction, she still writes for newspapers and magazines on social and lifestyle topics and you might catch her on the radio as a contributor to debates.
It's set in the "high-octane world of art, sex and money" – wonderful ingredients to transform into her latest page-turner.
Wendy made time to take on the persona of her bad-boy artist character and launched an art exhibition which opened in London for a single night earlier this week.
It showcased 12 contemporary artworks, with Wendy doing the creative work to help her get into the mindset of Zeb Spaw, the villain of Gallery Girl, which came out yesterday.
She's not without a track record for being artistic.
As well as being a journalist on The Sunday Times, Tatler and The Mail on Sunday before becoming a full-time author, she's also dabbled professionally at drawing and painting, and loves sculpture and galleries.
The spoof show, angry_with_britain, by Zeb/Wendy includes Fifteen Metres of Fame, his homage to Warhol, a 15m rope hung with pictures of celebrities mounted on cardboard (mostly from All Bran boxes).
There is also Tripetych, three panels featuring blown-up images of offal.
The exhibition is trailed as "spoof and a bit of fun", and Wendy's character is "angry".
"He's not so much an angry young man as an angry middle-aged man," she said.
"I had to get inside his angry mind and also those people surrounding him. There are so many satellites of people, dealers and those who surround him, like the owner of the gallery, patrons, a predatory female nymphomaniac collector…
"In the middle of this is my heroine. She doesn't particularly like the world she has been thrown into but has to get to know it more.
"What I'm always looking for is something behind the scenes of a glamorous world, and it's got to be funny.
"The very fact of being a glamorous person is inherently funny, because it's so difficult for them to keep their façade. There's a gap between what we see and what actually goes on.
"The world of contemporary art is so terribly po-faced, it's ripe for comedy.
"Contemporary art is a perfect subject, full of money and fame. There's so much potential humour."
It was when Wendy created the character of Zeb for Gallery Girl that she decided she wanted to do some of his awful work for herself. His masterpieces included spraying crisps gold and labelling them Golden Wonder, or making a Barbie doll's toilet gold and calling it Flash in the Pan.
"I really did enjoy writing it," she said. "I've gone further than ever before with a character, not just in creating him but realising some of his artwork too."
She'd already written about the film world and glossy magazines, all with those vital ingredients of money, power and people, often pretending they are something they're not.
Of course, in the narrative of Gallery Girl, Zeb lives up to the pretence, and learns that nailing a pair of pants to chipboard will get him more headlines and interest than the traditional styles. So that's the direction he goes off in. He is drawn as a very clever person who markets his own art.
Not a career path that Wendy, now 45, saw through. "When I first started out in the late 80s my first career was as a cartoonist for all sorts of people. I realised I probably wasn't going to make a career out of that and it fell by the wayside," she said.
But she's doing just fine without that particular string to her bow. Away from the fiction, she still writes for newspapers and magazines on social and lifestyle topics and you might catch her on the radio as a contributor to debates.
She's currently finishing a new book – as yet untitled – about a social climber, set in the south of France, and is tossing around a few ideas for her next.
Wendy, whose previous best-selling novels include Filthy Rich and Fame Fatale, lives in Two Dales near Matlock with husband, Jon McLeod, and their two children.
She's had success with nine novels so far, every one a top-ten bestseller.
Gallery Girl by Wendy Holden, published by Headline (Trade Paperback), £12.99.
Words by Patrick Astill, first published in the Derby Telegraph
Monday, August 2
Playing safe or falling prey to the nanny state?
How long is a piece of string?
More importantly, how long are those apron strings that you should keep the kids attached to during the summer holidays?
I had an unusually liberating experience recently. I sent my kids off on a nature trail – and out of sight for ten minutes – at an open day at a local attraction.
Normally this might set palpitations in motion, as they are only six and four. There were lots of strangers about, hundreds in fact.
And yet this time it felt right. It was on home ground, a venue they were comfortable with. No chance of them wandering off into the street. Just a circular trail within the confines of a big, noisy, friendly and busy family open day.
What WAS I thinking of? A walk alone to the end of our (long) street wouldn't normally be on the cards. But then that's a through route with lots of naughty drivers ready to draw up alongside and pounce. But only maybe.
So what are we really protecting them against?
When I was a lad we lived at the coast, and we were allowed out on our bikes for half a day at a time and our parents would expect us home when we got there, often late in the day, hungry and grubby. We could only have been nine or ten, but if a ten-year-old was left to fend for themselves for half a day with an eight-year-old sibling they would no doubt be castigated by the so-called liberal press for child neglect.
While aged 11, we were invited up into the quiet signal box at our remote village level crossing. Perhaps there was a greater trust of strangers in those days. He'd let us put coins on the line and then rush back to see how they'd been flattened after the excursion had rattled by. Today he would most probably be prosecuted.
What has changed in the intervening 30-odd years?
Even now, as parents ourselves, we take risks with the children. Who hasn't, for instance, left a sleeping baby in a locked car so as not to disturb them? After all, they're only outside the house, so what could go wrong?
You've got the pair of them in the bath, only three or four inches of water. The phone rings, you nip out to answer it.
But this is safety at home rather than an issue of freedom. Is the risk of letting them explore, perhaps fall on the rocks at the beach, or perhaps get stuck up a tree, the same kind of risk?
Is it more about letting them find themselves in the real world? Have an adventure? Are we guilty of being sucked into a 24-hour rolling news agenda of tragedy, disaster, child neglect and paedophilia?
So back to my original question. The answer, of course, is "How long is a piece of string?"
More importantly, how long are those apron strings that you should keep the kids attached to during the summer holidays?
I had an unusually liberating experience recently. I sent my kids off on a nature trail – and out of sight for ten minutes – at an open day at a local attraction.
Normally this might set palpitations in motion, as they are only six and four. There were lots of strangers about, hundreds in fact.
And yet this time it felt right. It was on home ground, a venue they were comfortable with. No chance of them wandering off into the street. Just a circular trail within the confines of a big, noisy, friendly and busy family open day.
What WAS I thinking of? A walk alone to the end of our (long) street wouldn't normally be on the cards. But then that's a through route with lots of naughty drivers ready to draw up alongside and pounce. But only maybe.
So what are we really protecting them against?
When I was a lad we lived at the coast, and we were allowed out on our bikes for half a day at a time and our parents would expect us home when we got there, often late in the day, hungry and grubby. We could only have been nine or ten, but if a ten-year-old was left to fend for themselves for half a day with an eight-year-old sibling they would no doubt be castigated by the so-called liberal press for child neglect.
While aged 11, we were invited up into the quiet signal box at our remote village level crossing. Perhaps there was a greater trust of strangers in those days. He'd let us put coins on the line and then rush back to see how they'd been flattened after the excursion had rattled by. Today he would most probably be prosecuted.
What has changed in the intervening 30-odd years?
Even now, as parents ourselves, we take risks with the children. Who hasn't, for instance, left a sleeping baby in a locked car so as not to disturb them? After all, they're only outside the house, so what could go wrong?
You've got the pair of them in the bath, only three or four inches of water. The phone rings, you nip out to answer it.
But this is safety at home rather than an issue of freedom. Is the risk of letting them explore, perhaps fall on the rocks at the beach, or perhaps get stuck up a tree, the same kind of risk?
Is it more about letting them find themselves in the real world? Have an adventure? Are we guilty of being sucked into a 24-hour rolling news agenda of tragedy, disaster, child neglect and paedophilia?
So back to my original question. The answer, of course, is "How long is a piece of string?"
Tuesday, July 13
Reginald D Hunter, Just The Tonic
On the television he's an unassuming observational wit.
But as Reginald D Hunter puts it: "That's business, this is art!"
And as he said, people come in to gigs like this with "hope and expectation" after enjoying his telly routine, but leave with shattered dreams and crushed hope after seeing the stand-up.
Of course, that's just one of his gags. But it is material that would make anyone blush and there were a couple of uncomfortable moments, mostly because of the language he uses - which is clearly intended to shock.
Oddly, the two parts of his act which were best received were the old staple of women drivers, and his visual "bear with me" gag.
As this was an Edinburgh preview, it would be interesting to see which of the rest of the material he keeps in. For it was all good stuff as he instantly built a rapport with the crowd.
He covers a wide range. His supposed abusive (if traditional) deep south childhood, his love life, being single, race, politics are the main fodder.
Sipping on a constant stream of double vodkas from the bar, Reg drew us in with his warmth and personable charm. Even when the easy-going comedy is juxtaposed with his impressions of an Australian friend's very strong expletives, you can't fault Reg. And it's surprising how many expletives he claims not to have heard of before he came to Britain! He's been here 12 years now on the stand-up circuit so he's getting a good handle on his vocabulary.
Supporting act Nick Helm took a while to warm up. But his poetry and music hit the spot with the audience, which preferred that to his jokes. He left the stage after some community singing with the applause still ringing in his ears.
But as Reginald D Hunter puts it: "That's business, this is art!"
And as he said, people come in to gigs like this with "hope and expectation" after enjoying his telly routine, but leave with shattered dreams and crushed hope after seeing the stand-up.
Of course, that's just one of his gags. But it is material that would make anyone blush and there were a couple of uncomfortable moments, mostly because of the language he uses - which is clearly intended to shock.
Oddly, the two parts of his act which were best received were the old staple of women drivers, and his visual "bear with me" gag.
As this was an Edinburgh preview, it would be interesting to see which of the rest of the material he keeps in. For it was all good stuff as he instantly built a rapport with the crowd.
He covers a wide range. His supposed abusive (if traditional) deep south childhood, his love life, being single, race, politics are the main fodder.
Sipping on a constant stream of double vodkas from the bar, Reg drew us in with his warmth and personable charm. Even when the easy-going comedy is juxtaposed with his impressions of an Australian friend's very strong expletives, you can't fault Reg. And it's surprising how many expletives he claims not to have heard of before he came to Britain! He's been here 12 years now on the stand-up circuit so he's getting a good handle on his vocabulary.
Supporting act Nick Helm took a while to warm up. But his poetry and music hit the spot with the audience, which preferred that to his jokes. He left the stage after some community singing with the applause still ringing in his ears.
Thursday, June 17
My life is flashing before me!
One thing about a potential career change is that it brings into sharp focus a lifetime spent in journalism.
And it’s the formative years that stick with you.
I remember the first war in Iraq, the Gulf War, when hundreds of casualties were expected among the allies trying to restore the world order in the Middle East following Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait.
In fact so many American troops were expected to die or be seriously injured that a contingency was set up at the former RAF hospital at Nocton Hall in Lincolnshire.
I was working for the Lincolnshire Echo at that time, and was fortunate enough to be sent along to find out what was happening there.
It had closed as an RAF facility in the 1980s and had been taken over by the USAF – and was in fact a little bit of the United States on British soil, much as an Embassy would be.
More than 1,300 US medical staff and Army reservists were sent to the area for the 1992 conflict, and I was treated to a tour of ward after ward of sterile beds, all set up under cellophane ready for the expected influx once battle commenced.
The sheer scale of the operation was incredible. From the giant big-bellied transport planes on the runway, to the armoured vehicles rolling around the site and the hundreds of staff being readied for what was expected to be a bloody conflict.
Lincolnshire’s rich RAF past helped the operation with many staff billeted at RAF stations dotted around the area, including Scampton, then home to the Red Arrows display team.
The war began in August 1990, in the middle of the night our time, after weeks of posturing and troops being made ready.
The tension was high and it was something of a relief when the order was finally given.
Moves by the Coalition forces to kick off Operation Desert Storm sent some 100,000 sorties, dropping 88,500 tons of bombs and destroying military and civilian infrastructure in a move which effectively won the war as soon as it had begun. No Iraq planes flew during the whole conflict, although 75 Allied planes were downed from anti-aircraft fire from the ground.
At the Echo we published an early edition about the hostilities and regular news updates in several daily editions, with what was a more forthcoming supply of copy compared with the time delay attached to the Falklands Conflict some ten years before.
And USAF Nocton Hall? It treated just 35 casualties.
And it’s the formative years that stick with you.
I remember the first war in Iraq, the Gulf War, when hundreds of casualties were expected among the allies trying to restore the world order in the Middle East following Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait.
In fact so many American troops were expected to die or be seriously injured that a contingency was set up at the former RAF hospital at Nocton Hall in Lincolnshire.
I was working for the Lincolnshire Echo at that time, and was fortunate enough to be sent along to find out what was happening there.
It had closed as an RAF facility in the 1980s and had been taken over by the USAF – and was in fact a little bit of the United States on British soil, much as an Embassy would be.
More than 1,300 US medical staff and Army reservists were sent to the area for the 1992 conflict, and I was treated to a tour of ward after ward of sterile beds, all set up under cellophane ready for the expected influx once battle commenced.
The sheer scale of the operation was incredible. From the giant big-bellied transport planes on the runway, to the armoured vehicles rolling around the site and the hundreds of staff being readied for what was expected to be a bloody conflict.
Lincolnshire’s rich RAF past helped the operation with many staff billeted at RAF stations dotted around the area, including Scampton, then home to the Red Arrows display team.
The war began in August 1990, in the middle of the night our time, after weeks of posturing and troops being made ready.
The tension was high and it was something of a relief when the order was finally given.
Moves by the Coalition forces to kick off Operation Desert Storm sent some 100,000 sorties, dropping 88,500 tons of bombs and destroying military and civilian infrastructure in a move which effectively won the war as soon as it had begun. No Iraq planes flew during the whole conflict, although 75 Allied planes were downed from anti-aircraft fire from the ground.
At the Echo we published an early edition about the hostilities and regular news updates in several daily editions, with what was a more forthcoming supply of copy compared with the time delay attached to the Falklands Conflict some ten years before.
And USAF Nocton Hall? It treated just 35 casualties.
Tuesday, May 25
Misery – Newark Palace Theatre
It cannot be easy to bring a well-known film to the stage and make it work so well.
On the big screen, the actors can shoot, re-shoot, use camera tricks and all kinds of devices to tell their story.
On the stage at Newark, Julie Fox and Matthew Hewitt get this Stephen King tale spot on and manage to make us smile and squirm in equal measure, as they make an easy connection with the audience.
They work well together to convey writer Paul Sheldon’s descent into hell when imprisoned by his “greatest fan” after a road accident.
As schizophrenic Annie takes control of “her” author at her isolated farmhouse, she realises she need to keep him there longer if he is to pen a personal sequel for her – and stops at nothing to keep him there. The scene where she breaks his ankles as a safeguard against his escape is particularly well handled, and sent a palpable shudder through the audience.
One gripe was the lengthy pauses used to denote the passage of time, where the theatre is plunged into darkness to the strains of an electric guitar lament. They could only have been ten or twenty seconds but each and every one would have been a more comfortable with just a few seconds less each time. Or maybe it was the ideal time-out to hammer home the agony of Paul Sheldon as he plots his shocking release.
And although it was only a small audience, the actors could surely have found time for a second curtain call so we could have shown our appreciation a little longer.
On the big screen, the actors can shoot, re-shoot, use camera tricks and all kinds of devices to tell their story.
On the stage at Newark, Julie Fox and Matthew Hewitt get this Stephen King tale spot on and manage to make us smile and squirm in equal measure, as they make an easy connection with the audience.
They work well together to convey writer Paul Sheldon’s descent into hell when imprisoned by his “greatest fan” after a road accident.
As schizophrenic Annie takes control of “her” author at her isolated farmhouse, she realises she need to keep him there longer if he is to pen a personal sequel for her – and stops at nothing to keep him there. The scene where she breaks his ankles as a safeguard against his escape is particularly well handled, and sent a palpable shudder through the audience.
One gripe was the lengthy pauses used to denote the passage of time, where the theatre is plunged into darkness to the strains of an electric guitar lament. They could only have been ten or twenty seconds but each and every one would have been a more comfortable with just a few seconds less each time. Or maybe it was the ideal time-out to hammer home the agony of Paul Sheldon as he plots his shocking release.
And although it was only a small audience, the actors could surely have found time for a second curtain call so we could have shown our appreciation a little longer.
Friday, May 21
When it's all in the eye of the beholder...
With days at the office now potentially numbered, I'll miss the little gems of knowledge teased out during the working day.
We play the birthday quiz from time to time, and Judge Reinhold (Beverly Hills Cop IV etc) was on the list today.
"Isn't he the voice of Garfield?" says one.
"No that was Bill Murray."
Well I wouldn't know either way, as I never liked Garfield on television. But I did like the newspaper strip.
Of course, this kind of preference is in the eye of the beholder, and bringing a cartoon strip to life can kill off your own personal impression of how the characters interact with each other.
Fred Basset seemed to work for me. Not so much The Perishers. And Peanuts was always a joy.
For the record, it's Bill Murray in the Garfield film, while the TV series was voiced by Lorenzo Music.
"Mmmm... Lasagna."
We play the birthday quiz from time to time, and Judge Reinhold (Beverly Hills Cop IV etc) was on the list today.
"Isn't he the voice of Garfield?" says one.
"No that was Bill Murray."
Well I wouldn't know either way, as I never liked Garfield on television. But I did like the newspaper strip.
Of course, this kind of preference is in the eye of the beholder, and bringing a cartoon strip to life can kill off your own personal impression of how the characters interact with each other.
Fred Basset seemed to work for me. Not so much The Perishers. And Peanuts was always a joy.
For the record, it's Bill Murray in the Garfield film, while the TV series was voiced by Lorenzo Music.
"Mmmm... Lasagna."
Tuesday, May 11
The Sociable Plover - Newark Palace Theatre
Perfectionist twitcher Roy Tunt is ready to catch a rare species on film and tick another box on his list of British birds, the most important, which will complete his set and make him one of the elite.
This is the premise of The Sociable Plover (Vanellus gregarious and a wader in the lapwing family of birds, which is critically endangered).
Gnome collector, scoutmaster and with a broken marriage behind him, is Roy (Guy Masterson) a knowledgable perfectionist or a pedantic OCD-suffering nerd? The banality of his life is painful.
He is suddenly joined in the claustrophobic atmosphere of the hide by gruff, mysterious “Dave John”, wringing wet, and hungry, after not having eaten for three days. Dave (Ronnie Toms) says his brother has just died while serving in the RAF.
And although a slightly sinister presence after the square behaviour of Roy, the audience can easily warm to his Londoner's charm and attempts at conversation with his new-found friend.
The action, set in an L-shaped bird hide of around 12 square yards, veers from black comedy to taut thriller and unfolds to reveal a twist so unexpected that it would be unfair to reveal any more of the plot.
Suffice to say, the 100 or so who turned up at the Palace in Newark to witness it would have done well to bring a few more friends along to enjoy this perennial favourite.
Written and directed by Tim Whitnall, The Sociable Plover mimics Pinter's two handers to some extent but is less coded and readily accessible.
This is the premise of The Sociable Plover (Vanellus gregarious and a wader in the lapwing family of birds, which is critically endangered).
Gnome collector, scoutmaster and with a broken marriage behind him, is Roy (Guy Masterson) a knowledgable perfectionist or a pedantic OCD-suffering nerd? The banality of his life is painful.
He is suddenly joined in the claustrophobic atmosphere of the hide by gruff, mysterious “Dave John”, wringing wet, and hungry, after not having eaten for three days. Dave (Ronnie Toms) says his brother has just died while serving in the RAF.
And although a slightly sinister presence after the square behaviour of Roy, the audience can easily warm to his Londoner's charm and attempts at conversation with his new-found friend.
The action, set in an L-shaped bird hide of around 12 square yards, veers from black comedy to taut thriller and unfolds to reveal a twist so unexpected that it would be unfair to reveal any more of the plot.
Suffice to say, the 100 or so who turned up at the Palace in Newark to witness it would have done well to bring a few more friends along to enjoy this perennial favourite.
Written and directed by Tim Whitnall, The Sociable Plover mimics Pinter's two handers to some extent but is less coded and readily accessible.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)