Showing posts with label Hit the Heights. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hit the Heights. Show all posts

Friday, 26 October 2012

THE SONGS I LOVE

A while back, I posted a couple of songs performed by the late John Moffatt in Hit the Heights, a Christmas revue I compiled for BBC Radio 4 back around 1990.

Today, I am adding two glorious performances from the same show by the legendary Miss Elisabeth Welch.

Her extraordinary career is (briefly) described as follows in Stephen Bourne's biography, Elisabeth Welch: Soft Lights and Sweet Music:
From her stage debut in 1922 to her final professional appearance in 1996, Elisabeth Welch was an important figure in the world of popular song. In 1923, she launched the Charleston and throughout the Jazz Age, she was associated with some of the great names of the Harlem Renaissance, including Josephine Baker, Adelaide Hall, Bill 'Bojangles' Robinson and Ethel Waters. 

On Broadway she popularised Cole Porter's scandalous song 'Love for Sale'. After settling in London in 1933, she introduced the classic torch song 'Stormy Weather' to British audiences, and that same year she appeared in Cole Porter's Nymph Errant, beginning a career in English musical theatre that lasted sixty years. In 1930s Britain, Ivor Novello wrote songs for her, Paul Robeson was her leading man in films, and she enjoyed popularity as a cabaret star of London's cafe society. Remaining in her adopted country for the duration of the war, Elisabeth entertained the troops and the British public, alongside such theatrical giants as Sir John Gielgud. 

In the post-war years she reigned supreme in sophisticated revues in London's West End and Elisabeth's appearance in Derek Jarman's 1979 film version of William Shakespeare's The Tempest (in which she sang 'Stormy Weather') won her a whole new legion of fans. 
At the age of 81, she returned to the Broadway stage and her performance in Jerome Kern Goes to Hollywood earned her a Tony nomination. The stage, screen and radio career of this sophisticated African American actress and singer defied categorisation. Spanning almost a century of popular music, she did not fit the definition of jazz, torch, pop or ballad singer but defined her art quite simply as 'telling a story in song'. Whatever she sang, she demonstrated that she had no peer in the art of interpreting songs by the likes of Cole Porter, Noel Coward, Irving Berlin and Jerome Kern.
I have some wonderful personal memories of working with Elisabeth on Hit the Heights: particularly the fact that, then in her upper 80s, her long term memory was still crystal clear (recounting, for example, vivid recollections of Paris in the Jazz Age) while her short-term memory was already fast failing. Indeed, she turned up for a dress rehearsal in full costume, thinking it was the performance and departed at the end saying how much she had enjoyed it – leaving us all wondering whether she would be there for the next day's show.

But, of course, she was!

Dressed to the nines in a stunning red dress, with bracelets, bangles and rings galore, she perched on a stool beside the grand piano and wowed the audience...


Having missed her cue to one of the songs a couple of times – seeming not to recognise the piano introduction – she eventually asked Musical Director, Richard Holmes: "What are we doing?" Richard replied: "'The Man I Love', Elisabeth," which was, of course, one of her signature numbers. Elisabeth shrugged and turning to the audience with astonished smile, responded: "They never tell you anything!" The audience loved her all the more and she then sang the song word and note perfect!

Obviously, the glitch was edited out of the broadcast, but the audience reaction at the end is an indication of the impact she made on everyone there and the affection in which we held this great star...


   
A story that I particularly remember from our conversations in the Green Room was one recounted with great relish: only once was she asked to audition when Bob Fosse was casting the musical Pippin.

"What would you like to sing for us?" asked Fosse – presumably unaware of her star status.

"Oh," Miss Welch replied, "I think I'll sing the first song Cole Porter wrote for me."

Brilliant!

Saturday, 15 September 2012

"DEFT AND SPEEDY"

I was saddened to hear of the passing of John Moffatt, a greatly talented actor whose career embraced stage, film, television and radio where he was the perfect embodiment of Agatha Christie's celebrated Belgian sleuth, Hercule Poirot.


His extraordinary range embraced everything from Shakespeare and the classics to pantomime and revue – notably his memorable performance in the Noel Coward tribute show, Cowardy Custard.

Radio was an especial love and my friend Jeremy Mortimer quotes John as saying that radio acting was like Japanese water colour painting - deft and speedy.

I can testify to his mastery of that technique from the one time we worked together, back in (I think) 1990, when I compiled a 90-minute show for BBC Radio 4 featuring songs and sketches from the revues of the 1920s.

Entitled Hit the Heights, it was produced by the wonderful Glyn Dearman and starred John Moffatt, Una Stubbs, Nickloas Grace and Charles Kay with a special appearance by the legendary Miss Elisabeth Welch.

John acted as compere, appeared in several sketches and, accompanied by Richard Holmes, sang the two numbers uploaded here and which I hope John's many admirers (and all my readers) will enjoy...

First is the comic song 'And Her Mother Came Too' by Ivor Novello and Dion Titheradge, originally performed by Jack Buchanan in the 1921 Andre Charlot revue, A to Z...

  

...and here is Noel Coward's autobiographical ballad, 'World Weary', first performed by the composer in the 1928 revue, This Year of Grace....

  

JOHN MOFFATT
(1922-2012)

An aside...

In compiling Hit the Heights, I examined the original scripts archived in the Westminster Library as part of the Lord Chamberlain's papers. These contained the blue pencil deletions and changes made under the then theatrical censorship laws. 

For a more tolerant age, I restored many of the cut words, phrases and innuendos but I was, until now, unaware that the lyrics to World Weary had also been censored with the line: "My loving friends will not be there, I'm so sick of their darnn-fool faces" being a substitute for the original "...God-damned faces..." An unhappy Coward complained: "This compromise, while soothing outraged public opinion, weakened the song considerably."

I dearly wish I could have had John sing it as Coward originally intended.