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Musical career: a late start!
It has to be said that he made a late start to his operatic career. After beginning in the time-honoured way of being in the church choir (the church being St. David’s under the aegis of Canon Pugh, a very large forbidding figure whose black surplice floated behind his arms, vampire-like, as he stalked down the aisle), on his way up the ladder he progressed to another choir, St Catharine’s College, Cambridge as a Choral Scholar (organist: Bernard Rose, later famous as a Doctor of Music in Oxford). His final “choir” at this time was the Cambridge Madrigal Society under its conductor, Boris Ord.
He was also delighted to be invited to join the Cambridge Footlights where he appeared in five sketches in Pure and Simple in 1938. He also appeared in the chorus of The Marriage of Figaro in the Cambridge Theatre. A small touring opera company asked Bernard to find a chorus for them which he did – the men from the Chapel choir and the ladies from Cambridge Operatic.
It was while rehearsing that he met Roma, his wife-to-be (they were married in 1941); Roma was a mezzo and had a lovely mellow voice. She was a keen member of the Cambridge Operatic Society, and appearing on stage held no terrors for her.
After graduation he joined Thomas Hedley, soap manufacturer, as a salesman. His intention then was to get as high as he could in the Sales hierarchy so that, aged 28 (or thereabouts) he would train to be an opera singer. Fat chance! A total stranger – one Adolph Hitler – messed things up good and proper. He joined up and served six years in the RASC (Transport) – four overseas in North Africa and Italy. He was one of the lucky ones.
He managed to keep his hand in with singing via concerts in Setif 3,000 feet up in the Atlas mountains, in Bizerta (Tunisia) and in Tunis itself. That was something else! The Engineers had rigged up a professional stage in two Store tents bound together, the backs opening up on to the slopes of a hill behind. It was said that more than 2,000 soldiers attended the one performance. His piece de resistance following hard on the heels of Asleep in the Deep and The Drinking Song was Who killed Cock Robin in which the audience lustily joined in. He berated them unmercifully for not finishing the last word (Robin) on a staccato. They got is right eventually. Quite fun really. He also sang in concerts in Naples and Ancona.
Then back to Thomas Hedley (Procter & Gamble). Transferring from Sales to Advertising, he moved to the HQ in Newcastle upon Tyne where he and Roma soon joined the Newcastle & Gateshead Choral Union, a very prestigious outfit. He was also a member of the Hedley Choral Society which, curiously enough led to the start of his operatic career: they performed a concert version of Merrie England in Gateshead in which he sang a few minor bass roles.
One day, on his way home, he called in at the Gosforth Library where he encountered Roma. She had spotted a notice calling for volunteers to audition for the Gosforth Operatic Society: she announced she would attend, at which our hero shrugged his shoulders and said, “OK, you go ahead, but it’s not for me.” But (and you won’t believe this) the very next morning he received a letter from the secretary of the society inviting him to join – this lad had attended the Gateshead performance and thought he would be a useful addition. Always susceptible to flattery, our hero showed the letter to Roma and said,” Well, I’ll have to come with you now.” So they went. All leading female roles had been cast, so Roma joined the chorus but he became the eponymous leading man in Th Rajah of Chutnipore! Would you credit it?
During the rehearsal period Roma was struck down by a massive stroke and rushed to hospital (where she remained for sixteen weeks). The Rajah tried to get out of the opera but a replacement could not be found so he continued and eventually played seven performances. It was said that the piece proved quite popular, and he considered this a good time to abandon his operatic career. Nothing like bowing out at the top, so to speak!
Postcript
I kept on playing the piano at home over the years, of course [Ted writes], and for many years during the 1990s, until my sight would not allow me to read music, on Monday evenings I played duets on the piano with my friend the famous Roger Gooding. Roger is a direct descendant of that gallant soldier, Roger de Courcey Godynge, who distinguished himself in the Hundred Years War in 1346 at the Battle of Crecy as a dismounted man-at-arms.
This same Roger, unusually at that time, was an excellent sackbuttist – which probably explains why my Roger (who never talks about him, by the way) is such a brilliant exponent of the trombone (let alone piano). Yes, our repertoire ranged from Scott Joplin through to Haydn – a great favourite of ours.
When I packed up sight reading we felt we had established a Monday evening tradition, so kept it up with visits to a hostelry of note, namely the Plough and Fleece at Horningsea in the county of Cambridgeshire. They serve a mean pint of Green King bitter, which they maintain in excellent condition. If we are spotted entering the car park by Sally who serves behind the bar, then two foaming pints on the bar await our entrance. All very civilised.
On this general subject I should mention that one of my daughter Carol’s friends. Claire Mooney, the well-known Manchester song-writer and performer, took a liking to one of my Christmas verses and set it to music: she made a recording with guitar, synthesiser and double bass which is very beautiful, and very flattering (you can understand why I mention it).
All text by ES Rowlands. © 2004
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