On The Bill - Part II

Though the performance dates are ten years apart and the theatres they took place in are over 285 kms apart two of those old playbills I picked up in London in 1969 have a common thread:  Mr and Mrs Tayleure.

I know very little about the Tayleures other than that the spelling of their name though unusual for our time was the common spelling of what was to become Taylor in modern times and that Mr Tayleure's first name was John.  They were a theatrical couple who sometime between 1811 and 1821 moved from Liverpool to London.  I often speculated on what had occurred during that 10 years and what had befallen them when they made the journey from the  Theatre-Royal of the provinces to the Theatre-Royal of the metropolis.  At one point I thought that perhaps Mr Tayleure's career had taken an up-turn and in that time he had moved from playing secondary parts (Weazle in The Wheel of Fortune) to lead comic roles (Bombastes Furioso in the famous burlesque of the same name) while his good lady seem to have sunk to smaller parts.  Had perhaps many children and the gin bottle taken a toll on Mrs Tayleure's performances - her star ascending while her husband's rose?

I couldn't have been more wrong - my version being more Dickensian than Regency -  recent investigation revealed the story behind the Tayleure's lives after Liverpool.

The first playbill advertises an evening's entertainment at the Theatre Royal Liverpool on July 17, 1811.  It was the "last night but one of" an engagement by John Philip Kemble, with his sister Sarah Siddons the most renowned of the theatrical family.  Though known for his Coriolanus  and other Shakespearean roles Kemble also appeared in popular comedies such as Richard Cumberland's The Wheel of Fortune (1795).  Along side Mr Kemble were my Mr and Mrs Tayleure (née Grant)  who it appears were popular favourites with Liverpool theatre-goers.

They had been married in Liverpool and started their professional life in the theatre there.  John Tayleure was tall - he was called "six feet two of melancholy" by his friends - and it was often joked that the wonder was such a tall man could be such a low comedian.  He was compared to the more famous John Liston for his portrayal of bumbling servants and comic old men.  He played many of the older actor's signature roles in Liverpool and later when he and Mrs Tayleure moved to London. His wife - I have not been able to discover her first name as the custom at the time was to list actress as Miss or Mrs only - came from an acting family and was known for her comic portrayals of old women. They also toured the provinces and a review for their appearance at the Theatre-Royal Norwich in 1806 tells us that "Mr and Mrs Tayleure are very good performers.  Mrs T. plays old women's characters in a very good style."  However in 1830 the correspondent for the Tatler - a daily journal of literature and the stage - suggests that her portrayal of Lady Handy in Speed the Plough at Drury Lane did not live up to that of Mrs Davenport who had created the part. Even then critics could never agree.

The Theatre Royal, Williamson Square, Liverpool was rebuilt on its original (1772) site in 1802 and saw the appearance of many of the great performers of the period - John Philip Kemble, Charles Kemble, Sarah Siddons, Edmund Kean, John Vandenhoff and my two personal favorites: Mr and Mrs Tayleure.  The Theatre was closed in 1960 to make way for a planned new "Civic Centre".  For eight years it served as a cold storage depot and was finally torn down to make way for a new street.

The move to London was not an entirely successful one for Mr Tayleure as an actor.  Despite his appearances at both the the Haymarket and Drury Lane the London public were not entirely enamored of the "Lancashire Liston" and his engagements began to dwindle.  Perhaps the key lays in the nickname - was his style? his accent? too provincial for the big city audiences?

Though the area around the Theatre Royal The Haymarket has changed since John Nash's building was opened in July of 1821 the imposing facade with its six Corinthian columns still dominate the street.  What I saw on my last visit there in 2009 was an interior that had been gloriously restored and a tradition of great acting continued with Sir Ian McKellen, Roger Rees and Ronald Pickup in Waiting for Godot.

But if one career was on the wane another was on the ascent: according to a Mrs Cornwall Barron-Wilson the Tayleure's had been "prudent in pecuniary matters and are independent of the world and their profession."  Mr Tayleure had one of the largest collections of rare prints in London, if not indeed in England, and he turned his hobby to his profit.  He opened a gallery to the west of Saint Martin-in-the Fields where the public could view and purchase pieces from his accumulation of some 50,000 old and scarce prints of the theatre and the arts. 

Though his good wife appeared several times on the playbill the evening of July 10, 1821 Mr Tayleure only played the title character in William Barnes Rhodes popular burlesque Bombastes Furioso.  This had been one of John Liston's famous role and Tayleure had played it often in the Provinces.

Mrs Tayleure continued to accept engagements into her advancing years when the part suited her and the salary were good.  I was happy to find that not the gin bottle - though that is the better story - but solid middle-class English respectability accounted for the change in her professional life.

Mrs Tayleure appeared that evening in both the main piece and in one of the after-pieces - in both playing comic servants.  Though never a great star she was seldom out of work and due to her husband's business acumen was able to pick and choose her appearances.

Perhaps there is more than a whiff of serendipity in my finding these two playbills 40 years ago in an old map and print shop just around the corner from St Martin-in-the-Fields. Not all that far from where Mr Tayleure had set up his business selling old theatrical prints - never suspecting that 200 years later the fragile record of his own theatrical career would be up for sale.

16 settembre/ September - Santa Ludmilla di Boemia

Lost ... and Found - #1

The never ending, it would seem, story of the unpacking continues and though there may be some light at the end of the tunnel there isn't much in the spare room which still contains 52 boxes of CDs, books and sundries.  I am assuming that things such as the cable for the printer is in one of them but until I can get the bookcases in place I can't even start to take exactoknife to tape.

Happily so far there has been very little damage in the shipment from Italy - only two broken bowls in an old dinner set - and the wine arrived intact!  Would that the same could be said for things that were in long term storage - there is rather large dent in the upholstery of an armchair and the satin-finished Watered Maple dining table top has a few more abrasions, scratches and nicks than when it left the house in Aylmer.  But one of the fears of any unpacking job - no matter the provenience of the packing - is that you may inadvertently leave something in the reams of packing paper and have it whisked off to the mangler at the warehouse.  I was sure just such a fate had befallen two of my favourite little creatures.

Two hummingbirds - carved in BC cedar by Haida artist Dorothy August - said to bring joy and healing.

 Back in 2002-3 I was working in Vancouver and that allowed me to spend some time with my friends Dan and Cameron.  In those days they were renovating a house in town but have since moved to a wonderful waterfront home on Galiano Island in the Gulf - some people have all the luck.  One rainy Saturday (hey its Vancouver okay???) we headed up to Horseshoe Bay and after a healthy vegetarian, organic lunch (hey its Vancouver okay????) we wandered into The Spirit Gallery to look at the Haida art and crafts.  I fell in love with two tiny hummingbirds (7cm x 10cm - 3" x 4") carved in BC cedar by Dorothy August.  Said to bring joy and healing to a home, they have always found a place on a wall in ours since then. 

In Rome they graced the wall of the hallway leading down to the bedrooms.  I had opened a box and everything from that hallway was there - two small drawings from San Miguel de Allende,  a decorative hanging from Sappa,  a searing political cartoon from Poland and an 18th century hand coloured print of Warsaw.  And only after the box had been collapsed and paper disposed off did I realize that of hummingbirds had I none. 

I looked through the discarded paper in nearby boxes  - in effect unwrapping everything again - but no luck!  There were 12 other boxes filled with wrapping paper but I just didn't have the time or strength to go through them all.   Several people - Cathy, Mark and Laurent - assured me that I would find them, that they had just been put in another box.  That the packers had perhaps overlooked them and then at the last minute put them where space allowed.  I wasn't buying that story - everything else from the hallway was in the one box so they must have been.  They were small and very light weight so I had missed them in the unpacking.  I reconciled myself to the fact that my two little hummingbirds had been lost.

Well I guess you should always listen to your friends.   A few days later as I was unpacking a box from the dining room (?) there they were.  Not to be too poetic or sentimental - my two tiny birds hadn't flown away at all - they were just waiting to be found, unwrapped and to be given a place in our new home.

I'm not sure when Haida artist Dorothy August carved these two - 12/8 is written on the back in pencil which could be December 8 or August 12 but no year is indicated.  She's originally from Port Alberni on Vancouver Island and her Haida heritage is Nuu-chah-nulth from the Ahusaht First Nation.  According to the brief biographical note I received from The Spirit Gallery as well as cedar carvings she is know for her intricate bead-work and the Cowichan sweaters she knits. 

The hummingbird has no prominence in the older iconography or legends of the Haida but has made more of an appearance in recent years.  Within the constantly evolving mythology of the West Coast its character has developed into a speedy messenger of joy, love and healing.  If it appears at a time of great sorrow, wings beating rapidly as it hovers in mid-air, spiritual healing is said to quickly follow.

I know their appearance amongst all that bloody wrapping paper gave me a sense of joy - and relief.  They are now hovering on the hallway wall in our - and their - new home.


17 agosto/august - Sant' Elia di Enna

Stuff - Josephine, Hirschfeld and Sable

Though it is a little early to start our inventory - well actually it is never too early and when we arrived here 3 years ago I vowed to keep the inventory up-to-date and dutifully enter each new item when it was purchased. I really must find out where the inventory programme is on the hard drive. Let's hope it wasn't on the PC that fried last year!

Anyway I've been taking a look at a few of the things that we have hanging around the house and checking evaluation - mostly for insurance purposes. And I've been getting a few surprises - and so will my insurance company when I talk about a new policy.

Back in the late 70s early 80s we got into the habit of spending a week in Provincetown every summer with our friends Bernie and Don. It was a week of sun, food, drink, drag shows (Charles Pierce, Jim Bailey) and just relaxing - though somehow we never made it to the Tea Dance at the Boathouse. I know what the hell sort of gay men were we?????

There was (and I discover still is - 41 years in business) a gallery called Graphics Etc on Commercial St where I bought two lithographs -a caricature by Al Hirschfeld, one of the greats of graphic arts, the other by Kas Sable, whose work I recall as appearing in After Dark magazine. I still have both - the Sable has always hung in the bedroom no matter where we've lived and the Hirschfeld in the living or family room.

I will always remember the look on the face of the poor customs officer at the Canadian border when I brought this litho across. She was a young summer student and she wasn't at all sure I wasn't trying to bring pornography into the country. I had a feeling there was a discussion between her and her supervisor afterward as to what constitutes art and what is just plan smut. I haven't been able to track anything down on Sable so I'm not sure if the litho actually appreciated or not - and frankly I've always enjoyed it so it doesn't really matter.

The reason I bought the Hirschfeld was two-fold - first it was a Hirschfeld and I had seen his Broadway drawings in books since I was a wee laddie and second because it was of an entertainer that I adored: Josephine Baker. I believe it was done when she made her comeback in New York in 1973. As I have said before I was fascinated with the French Music Hall from an early age and had read about, listen to recordings of and seen pictures of La Bakir and when she appeared at the old Imperial Room in Toronto I made sure I was there to see her live. Not only did I see her perform but met her afterward and helped her into her slippers - don't ask!

On April 8, 1975 at the age of 68 she opened in a new revue at the Bobino on the Left Bank, not quite the Folies Bergere or Casino de Paris of her past but a triumph nonetheless. Four days later she was found laying in a coma surrounded by the newspapers and magazines heralding her success - she died later that day. I had a ticket for a performance the following week.

As always with a few strokes of his pen - and including his signature hidden NINAs - Hirschfeld captured the glamour, showmanship and joy of performance that accounted for Josephine Baker's success and popularity over 50 years. When I bought it back in 1980 or 81 it cost $150.00 USD - a not inconsiderable sum in those days but still within my budget. When I checked what Hirschfeld lithos were going for these days I was frankly astounded. It appears that the little stroll into Graphics etc was a wise investment move.

Hirschfeld worked almost up until his death at the age of 99 - recording in pen and ink the history of the American theatre and cinema. This video shows him at work on a drawing of Paul Newman as he appeared in Our Town in late 2002.



27 giugno - San Cirillo di Alessandria

Stuff - III

Poor Reese, he's never had much appreciation for the music we play around the house. Before he lost his hearing it was mostly just ladies screaming, then it sort of became a generalized noise and now its just the occasional bass thump. But what he really didn't appreciate was when those damn CDs were dumped all over his room earlier today.

It was time to go through the CDs before the movers come - at last count I had some 800. They ran from Lady Pank (a Polish rock group), to all of Diana Krall to four versions of Cosi Fan Tutte to John Sheppard's Mass Cantante for the Sarum Rite. A fairly eclectic mixture but at one time or another essential listening.

The rule of thumb was to be: if it hasn't been listened to in the past two years out it goes! That's all well and good as rules go but I really couldn't get rid of the 1938 Glyndebourne Cosi, its the benchmark for all recordings since and I may listen to it sometime in the next four years. And really we weren't here last Christmas and the Christmas before we didn't play the Polish Christmas Carols but it really is a lovely recording. And that original cast... well you get the picture. But surprise, surprise there were a few that I decided I could live without - including the aforementioned Lady Pank. So 85 CDs are going to the used Record Store tomorrow. That means we only have to pack 700 odd.

Well at least its not vinyl!

Stuff - III - The Kitchen

I've gone through the kitchen and realized that between the house and Laurent's apartment in Beijing we have enough kitchen "stuff" to open an intimate bistro. Do we really need all those pots, pans, casseroles, the two woks, the bamboo steamer? I certainly haven't used them much in the past three years - but then I haven't been entertaining all that often. And when was the last time I used that ginormous wire whisk? As a kitchen utensil? ..... Never mind!

And the dishes!!!! We have Tante Fernande's china (York Rose - a rather lovely set that she collected in DUZ detergent during the 40s and 50s, a cup, a plate etc per box), my Crown Staffordshire (Hunting Scene, "a favorite of horse lovers....") that cannot go in the dishwasher, the old Robertson Stoneworks every day set, the Chinese blue and white set, the.... well you get the picture. And Laurent just bought another set in Beijing to go with those celadon rice bowls we just had to buy in Hong Kong at Christmas.

The one item I am loathed to chuck out is my Cuisinart Food Processor. I bought it when I first moved to Ottawa over 31 years ago - it came with a James Beard Food Processor cook book that included a recipe for Gazpacho. Gazpacho? Thirty years ago nobody in Ottawa served gazpacho - except at 210-1833 Riverside Drive where it became a find-a-boyfriend-for-the-winter-dinner-menu staple. I even got all the attachment - and of course ended up using only the chopping blade. The motor still runs fine, the blade is still as sharp as a newly-stropped razor but the plastic bowl is cracking and finding a replacement is next to impossible. Question is: do I want to cart it all the way to Italy? Something to think about.

As a sidebar: In this week's NYTimes Style section the Minimalist maintain that a good no-frills kitchen can be equipped for $300.00 USD. And he's right - so maybe I'll just throw everything out and start all over again!

Stuff 2 - Recently Acquired - Though Not Really Needed

Last week I said that I had posted the George Carlin "Stuff" routine for a reason that would become clear “tomorrow.” Despite what that horrid little Annie and those kids at the Orphanage keep singing, sometimes Tomorrow is more than a day away!

Thing is I’m becoming obsessed with “stuff.” Mostly because I realized I have so damn much of it and I have to start going through it the next few weeks. Inventory - what goes with us, what goes into storage, what do we try and sell, what do we flog at the Great Glebe Garage Sale? There’s nothing like a move to move you to divest yourself of your worldly goods.

Knowing that a move was in the air months ago has not stopped me from buying more stuff. On our trip to Vietnam there were a few things I just had to have as souvenirs. Particularly as we hiked through the minority villages around Sapa (which reminds me I don’t think I ever shared the photos of Sapa – so by clicking here you can see a few - well actually 104 - of them.) The Red and Black Zho women were forever stopping us to offer embroidery, indigo-dyed shirts and colorful blankets and material. It was a game – a rather gentle amusing one – but they were persistent. I finally caved in and bought a wall hanging (?) a festive dress adornment for around a lady's neck? - not really sure. But the colors are vibrant and the design attractive. Of course where to hanging it becomes the issue – not much room what with the Venetian masks, the African masks, the Mexican masks, the Polish carvings, the Roberts prints of Egypt – anyone for a jumble sale?

Then, of course, our guide Tung just happened to take us to his Aunt’s shop – a wooden lean-to on one of the paths. It may surprise you to know that the lovely box to the right is carved from marble. I know very touristy and probably machine made but I really liked it so …. now where to put it and what to put in it?

The final Chaska is my favorite: I found this benign little Buddha at a stall in the market in Hoi An. Our guide offered only one piece of advice when I mentioned I wanted to buy a Buddha from Vietnam: Always look at the Buddha’s face – the face will tell you if this is the Buddha you should have. It will tell you if it wants you to have it. This peaceful little figure just cried out to be taken off the shelf. He will not be going to the Great Glebe Garage Sale.

Stuff I - The Original George Carlin

There is a reason for posting this video - other than the fact that it is still very funny. More tomorrow.