Born in London UK in the mid-1930s, with most of the war lived in a Somerset village. Each Christmas we took the train to a Bristol pantomime and Mother always laughed uproariously when the Dame’s knickers fell down every year. After the War, returned to London Subs. and a real play, PETER PAN. Father, who could be a bit of spoil-sport (his defense, a scientist), needed to point out the magic flying wires.
Our Subs. were a 40-minute easy train ride to West End theatres. First went with my mother, then friends, and later Brian (future husband and formidable theatre buff). Usually high in The Gods, we peered at tops of heads on the fore-shortened bodies of The Greats—Lawrence Oliver, Vivian Leigh, Ralph Richardson, Gladys Cooper, Edith Evans, Noel Coward, John Guilgood, etc. We never knew our luck.
Canada 1960…. Northern Saskatchewan. Small musical touring companies or, rarely, a one-person show visited our little town.
The Fraser Valley—1968. We had Vancouver Playhouse season tickets for years, sometimes a Fringe Festival pass and went to many small and large theatres, especially the Vancouver East Cultural Centre once it opened with its advantage of being close to the freeway home. Moving to Saturna, 1997, we patronized Victoria’s Belfry and were involved bringing the performing arts, in different formats, to the Island.
Presently, I live alone on Saturna as Brian died fourteen years back. After 25+ years, no Belfry this year though I support Western Gold and do go to other shows, professional or amateur, if I have a personal connection. At home I run winter play reading afternoons with a bunch of gob-stopping readers and scripts borrowed from the Vancouver Public Library. It’s one of the most fun community things I’ve ever done . . . “going to the theatre in my own back yard.”
