Ludlow Ledger (Issue #12) by Ludlow Ledger

ISSUE 12 – APRIL/MAY 2016 – FREE

55 Mill Street’s Nina Ludlow’s Brand X William Shakespeare in Ludlow? Getting real in the garden Long-haired deer of Mortimer Forest Rod Stewart’s Ferrari F50 Remembering Amanda Brisbane Correct crossword

“I worked on George III’s waistcoat: It had all sorts of stuff down the front of it. Normally with conservation, you’re trying to remove dirt but on this occasion we were trying to preserve it.” AT the top of Mill Street, just opposite the Ludlow Assembly Rooms, lies a veritable cornucopia of delights. Over three large floors and with an outdoors garden space, 55 Mill Street offers vintage clothes, antiques, artwork, furniture, books, kitchenalia and more. It’s the sort of place where a few hours can easily be lost to browsing and pottering. Run since 2012 by the everglamorous textiles expert Nina Hely-Hutchinson, 55 Mill Street is actually host to a range of different dealers, with Nina’s own vintage clothing concern being just one of the businesses. A hugely experienced textile curator and conservator, Nina’s impressive CV boasts the likes of The Royal Palace of Hampton Court, the LA County Museum of Art in California

and, more locally, museums in Herefordshire and Wales. Above all, though, it’s her passion for vintage clothing that really comes across as we chat over marvellously strong coffee at Cicchetti. “I’ve always been interested in clothes, it’s just in me,” Nina says. “I started making clothes for my Sindy dolls, but that’s not unusual I think. My mother was Danish and used to make her own clothes. When she came to Britain, she didn’t like the magazines published here so she used to get French Elle. I remember it coming through the door with interesting clothes, and interesting photography...” Nina’s father was Australian and when he and Nina’s mother, freshly engaged, took the boat to head back Down Under, they even

made the news. Nina treasures an old newspaper cutting – ‘Mr Peter Cole arrives back in Sydney with his fiancée’ – from the days when such a long journey was truly rare. When the couple, then married, came back to Britain, Nina’s mother’s trunk and suitcase of clothes “made for Australian living” returned too. It was kept in the attic but as soon as Nina was old enough, it was ransacked for dressing up clothes and then incorporated into her own wardrobe. At school, Nina was delighted to be offered needlework classes but was then somewhat disappointed to learn she would just be making simple wash-bags. She badgered the teacher and was allowed to make a skirt instead, “a really basic one though,” she laughs. Her Danish

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grandmother taught her how to use a sewing machine and by the time Nina was choosing her O levels, she already knew that she wanted to work in fashion. “I did a foundation course at art college but,” she shrugs, “I realised I wasn’t good enough to do fashion the way I wanted to do it.” Somewhat impressively, she was part of a group that persuaded the nuns at her Catholic sixth form to allow the students to wear jeans – on the condition that they didn’t smoke in the common room... Whilst idly wandering around the V&A’s costume department, it struck Nina that someone must look after and collate the collection. Fortuitously, one of her teachers was friendly with Natalie Rothstein,

Continued on page 12 >

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Contents HISTORY 4

Did William Shakespeare ever perform in Ludlow?

5 Unique to Ludlow: Long-haired fallow deer of Mortimer Forest PAST, PRESENT, FUTURE 6-7 WILDLIFE

A second micro pub proposed, fallen stonework at Ludford Bridge, Susie Church exhibition, a travelling cat without whiskers, and a plea for a pianist

PROFILE 8-9

Paying our respects; we re-run Amanda Brisbane’s feature of Ledger #3

LETTERS 10

Crossword grid error, Ludlow Ledger’s improved post and packaging, praised Bugsy Malone production, and the largely ignored Pepper Lane

CROSSWORD 10

28 across: mushy peas rot in the grass (7)

OBSERVATIONS 11

“I’ve always been suspicious of those restaurants that offer an enormous range of choice – surely they can’t do all of it well. I’d rather see a limited menu and know what is offered is made with care by someone who knows what they are about”

GARDENING

“That’s one of the joys of gardening, you never quite know what you will come across, and it’s the small things like a dormouse nest that will make a day special”

12-13 55 Mill Street’s Nina Hely-Hutchinson MY STORY 14 Bob Leech and his Sixties brand SPOTTED 14-15 Kirsty Stephens captures Ludlow’s Cicchetti Bar REVIEW 15 Appletree’s Red Riding Hood MOTORING 16 In search of the facts behind Ferrari’s F50, and the mark of a stiletto heel NEXT ISSUE 16 COVER STORY ... continued

Hampshire scandal, Mortimer Forest and Castle Lodge’s Bill Pearson

Editor’s notes, hello again There was once a time when I lived for nothing more than my online blog – Lord Saxon’s Castle – that ran for some years on the Live Spaces platform. Searching an old hard-drive for an alternative editorial image for this issue, I stumbled across some of these ramblings, which included a rendition of my infamous Lufthansa legacy (finally celebrated in print): I am beside myself with total bewilderment as to how, and why, this incredible (and somewhat valiant) pickup has avoided being plastered over this blog. It was a fine day too, back in 2008, jetting from Dubai to somewhere in Germany for an Audi launch, on a Lufthansa 44-seater business jet. After much antagonising of Gautam Sharma of Autocar– stretched out next to me, attempting to sleep – with a feather cleverly extradited from my pillow, I took a fancy to one of the flight attendants. Making my intentions known within moment of take-off, I lavished this young lady with conditions of affection, way beyond what was really necessary.

I was, after all, guaranteed a constant flow of food and wine – unconditional, in fact, and with a smile. But needless to say some should be rewarded for their service. And Carolyn, as was her name, was worthy. Throughout dinner I foraged ammunition like a rampant squirrel: a brown travelsick bag, a box of Belgium chocolates and a glass of schnapps. I even managed to find a fresh flower in the bathroom – taking the time to select Marv Johnson’s A Rose for My Rose on my iPod. Then, when no one was looking, I crafted a snare that no woman could resist. The dining tray before me had become the stage for the rose, which was resting lovingly in a champagne flute, nestled next to a selected chocolate (as heart-shaped as I could find), the shot of schnapps to subdue the crimson blush and some delightful music to seduce my attendant, as we glanced through the sky at 600mph, 39,000 feet high, toward Europe. “Well,” she said, “I’ve had my chocolate, smelt the scent of my fine

flower, shared a moment with a lovely passenger and have a drink in my hand – but how do I get to keep my song?” Which brings me to the brown sick bag. On it read the words: If I haven’t made you sick with my over-whelming affection, give me a call and we can go for a proper dinner. It even requested an address to forward a copy of Marv. I never did get her address or her number but Carolyn did ask for mine, which I gave her by means of a business card, of which I had one remaining. The following day I found that remaining card in my wallet. I had, in fact, handed over someone else’s business card – a chap from VAG’s Special Developments I think – a lesson to drink less whilst swooning on airlines. From time to time I still wonder if something became of that card fumble.

Cheers, Jon Saxon editor@ludlowledger.co.uk Office – 01584 872381 Mobile – 07795 244060

Editor’s notes image} Dan Anslow |Print} Guardian Print Centre, Manchester | Letterpress printed masthead} Dulcie Fulton: mostlyflat.co.uk

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Did Shakespeare perform in Ludlow? text} Chris Crowcroft – HISTORY –

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AS we approach the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare’s death on 23rd April, it seems a pity that we don’t have the household accounts for the Presidency of the Council of Wales in Ludlow Castle, or the Town Corporation’s. They could confirm that William Shakespeare played Ludlow – there are reasons to believe he might have done. In Shakespeare’s 25 years as actor and playwright in London c.15881613, the playhouses were closed by plague or politics for half of them. The actor’s year involved performances at court over Christmas (an extended holiday from All Saints Day on 1st November to Shrove Tuesday in mid February), a Lent break, a spring tour, a summer season in the London openair playhouse (the Globe from 1599) and an autumn tour – touring was important. Circuits included the South Coast, East Anglia and the Midlands on to the Marches. The company was half-size, with 10-12 players doubling or trebling parts and performing cutdown versions of the plays. The King’s Men, (Shakespeare’s company) sponsored, after 1603, by King James I (they were previously called the Lord Chamberlain’s Men), visited Shrewsbury in 1611. John Southworth, in his Shakespeare the Player, writes “the next stage of their journey would necessarily have taken them through Ludlow (where) it was usual for travelling companies to stop and perform.” The form was to seek licence from the municipality and put on a performance in the local guildhall for a fee in front of the town worthies – William’s father John had done just that as bailiff (mayor) of Stratford when his son was knee-high. Another performance would be added in a popular public venue (inn yards were a favourite) for a share of the takings; perhaps Shakespeare played Ludlow’s Bull yard long before today’s Old Dic Theatre Company. The players acted under strict regulation – from the 1570s they had to, by law, register under the patronage of a notable person, usually a nobleman. Not all towns welcomed them; the puritan influence in some towns meant that the players were paid to go on their way, but this was not the case in Ludlow… The Shakespeare play of 1611 was one of his most magical. The Winter’s Tale tells of a jealous husband, an innocent wife and a lost daughter ending in redemptive reconciliation. It was seen at The Globe that summer and at court in the winter. Southworth

says it played Shrewsbury and Ludlow. Shakespeare knew the Marches … he gives a description of Monmouth to the Welsh soldier Fluellen (Llewellyn) in Henry V, written earlier in 1599. There were Fluellens/Llewellyns in Stratford, arraigned for failing to attend church, usually a sign of catholic recusancy. Shakespeare’s father John was on the same list, maybe for fear of being processed for debt, or for recusancy, or both. The Lord President of the Council in Ludlow 1586-1601 was the Earl of Pembroke. His son William Herbert, the 3rd Earl, knew Ludlow well and is a contender for Shakespeare’s young man of the sonnets, mainly on account of their opaque dedication to ‘Mr WH.’ An autobiographical reading of the sonnets may reveal a love triangle involving an admired young man who gets mixed up with the poet’s mistress, the notorious dark lady. Pembroke was a prominent patron of the arts, rising to Lord Chamberlain (in charge of the monarch’s security and entertainment), and co-dedicatee of the First Folio of Shakespeare’s complete plays. However, it is likely that most of the sonnets were written during a long closure of the playhouses, 1592-4, when Herbert would have been under 14, and he didn’t settle in London until he was 18. A better candidate is Henry Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton who was aged around 20; he had refused an arranged marriage, the point at which the sonnets begin. Shakespeare had dedicated two narrative poems to him published at this earlier time. Shakespeare’s son-in-law, Dr John Hall, had patients in Ludlow, as we know from his casebook which can be found in John Hall, Man and Physician by Harriet Joseph. He was married to Shakespeare’s eldest child, Susanna, who lived to see New Place (the large Stratford house acquired by her father) receive Queen Henrietta Maria in the Civil Wars of the 1640s. Dr Hall’s Ludlow patients included the nobility: “The Countess of Northampton, aged 44, on March the 6th, 1622. As she was walking in her bed-chamber, suddenly fell into a swoon, without sense or motion for half an hour, she fell with her face on the frame of a table, which caused a wound with contusion, whence arose inflammation which excoriated her whole face with exulcerations … her residence then was at Ludlow Castle. She was purged with sena, rhubarb, cinnamon, infused in white wine on warm embers strained through an ippocras bag and sweetened with sugar. Her face was anointed with

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white ointment camphorated, which cured it in four days.” No eye of newt or toe of frog, Dr Hall was a herbalist, a dispenser of natural remedies, wealthy enough to be offered a baronetcy by Charles I at a price – he declined. But was Shakespeare still appearing on stage as well as playwriting in 1611, the year of the Shrewsbury/Ludlow visit? Southworth, an actor, has no doubt, because actors never willingly step away. Others show that the last evidence of Shakespeare acting is in 1603, in Ben Jonson’s Sejanus. They suggest he was either too busy finding and staging plays (the King’s Men needed 20-25 each year of which he wrote on average two) or that his Coriolanus, written in 1607/8, must have been written at his home in

Stratford in semi-retirement offstage, because it is unique in supplying detailed stage directions. In that short period of time his daughter married, his first grandchild Elizabeth was born and his mother died, reasons enough for a temporary absence from the playhouse. So we have no firm proof either way, but there is a good case to answer about Shakespeare and Ludlow – the Government centre in the Marches was evidently rich pickings for strolling players. -------------------------------------------------Chris Crowcroft is the author of SHAKESPEARE IN TROUBLE, which is currently available at £8.99 from Ludlow’s Castle Bookshop

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Long-haired fallow deer and leaping salmon

Tales of wildlife from Ludlow & the borders text and image} Andrew Fusek Peters – WILDLIFE – My good friend Ric said he had something to show me as we crossed Dinham Bridge and took a left turn to walk downstream. Apparently the recent rains would help, as would the lens he had loaned me for the day, a ridiculous beast of a thing I hardly knew what to do with. After a few minutes, we came to Ludford weir. The path climbed high above the river and a few people leaned over the wonky railings, staring intently at the foaming flow. “Just watch,” he told me. A few minutes went by. There was a dipper on the far side, impossibly small and dainty as it stood unmoved by the mighty current. What happened next was silver – a single, spinning coin of it moving against the current, against logic, that which lives underwater briefly tasting air. Alongside it came a collective “ooh” from the human onlookers. Here in Ludlow, near to where its life began, having swum the waters off Greenland, taken on the span of the world and won, and now returning as the river rose, was salmon, Salmo Salar, from the Latin ‘to leap’. That’s what this fish did, and others, mostly unsuccessfully, in a crazy version of liquid parcours. Of course, I fired off a fairly hefty burst of shots with my camera, achieving mainly grey blurs that revealed nothing of the moment’s majesty. I was split inside myself, in awe that such wildlife would grace an artery of a busy market town in the middle of the day, and annoyed that I had not yet the skill or understanding to freeze motion and catch this most elusive and beautiful creature. If I dared to say I shared any similarity with salmon though, it is with a dogged stubbornness, a keeping going when the odds are against you. More recently, I talked to the local government fisheries chap who told me tales of spawning further up river in the gravels of Onibury. There has even been sighting of this transatlantic traveller in the tiny stream of Lydbury North, where I live. They persist to spawn, some to die, some to carry on, but all for the circle of life to continue. I too had gone through my own circle, having written books for 25 years, suffered a life-numbing depression in my late forties and then, with grace, luck and support, managed to turn the wheel and find a new tool that brought landscape and wildlife within the grasp of a shutter. The stubbornness helped; when I returned to Ludlow the following

year, the camera and lens were bigger (I promise it’s not all macho posturing), and the skills and settings were not completely alien. And that sense of quick movement was not such a threat – track, focus, respond, shoot and, above all, practice and learn from others. A few miles downstream, on a private river bank with the owner’s permission, I wanted to show a close up portrait of fish-in-flight within its setting, the story of the river and the surroundings. There was pouring rain, falling yellow leaves, a wide-angle lens, four flashes with plastic bags, and a remote control, and I sat and waited, trigger finger ready to seize the split-second when the bubbling froth disgorged a shining secret. I was wet, cold, and totally alone but filled with the glory of Shropshire. Who needs Alaska, when our own Teme teems with moody magic? Here was the point – having spent years trying to get ‘somewhere’ and making myself ill in the process, I had found that wonder lay under my very nose. The Shropshire that I knew from walking with my wife and exploring with my children began to reveal a whole set of unexpected and extraordinary secrets. Somehow, my exploration was slowly turning into commissions for bodies such as the National Trust and Natural England on the Long Mynd and Stiperstones, and my photos were beginning to be printed in papers and magazines. A publisher took a silver leap of faith and commissioned me to do a book about my county adventures ... which was how I came to be at dawn above High Vinalls looking over toward Clee Hill as the sky turned an impossible and rich pink. The light was fantastic but I had not heard a single bark or sighted a distant pair of antlers – I was out for deer, but these mammals have a way of moving into the trees that is truly like sugar dissolving in coffee. One second there, the next swilled away with only a small brushing movement. I came down the hill, exhausted from an early rise, until I hit the main track through the woods. It was then that luck returned – the forestry ranger, Alan, was about his business and stopped for a chat. He worked out I was only a shooter of pictures and he offered to take me into one of the rutting sites further down the valley. In the next hour I learned about wind direction, scent, moving quietly and finally crawling through dense pine growth. And there, just 20 feet away, was a magnificent fallow

buck with only one antler. I grabbed a single shot and he was off. But Alan had not done with me yet. He showed me another approach into a glade where the rut was active. I went back to the spot a few days later with dark hat and gloves (to hide light skin), wind against me, watching every twig beneath me and I crept into a thicket where an alert young doe sprinted off then dissipated among the branches. I felt stupid, unwieldy, far too human: what right do I have to disturb them? I was assured by Alan that, with dog walkers and cyclists in the forests, they had grown used to our presence. Still, I wanted to respect their space,

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especially at this autumnal time when the males clash antlers and decide territory, dominance and who will win the breeding race. I went back again on a day when no twigs broke and patience covered me a like a monk’s habit. I made the thicket, stood still and waited. After 20 minutes, a young, long-haired buck (pictured above) came ambling out. How incredible that this variation of a fallow deer only exists in Mortimer Forest – nowhere else in the world. He was so unaware of me that he went to sleep. My shutter set on silent, all was good as I took in his peculiar characteristics – hair pouring in a tuft from his ears and hanging hirsute

from his belly; long-haired indeed. I retreated, carefully and quietly, out of his world and back into mine. From this and many more close and local adventures, a book slowly came into being – Wilderland, Wildlife and Wonder from the Shropshire Borders. I have poured all my love of landscape and the creatures that live in it into these pages – this is a little flavour of my discoveries. ------------------------------------------------Wilderland is published by Fairacre Press – it will be launched at the Wenlock Poetry Festival in April and be available at Ludlow’s Castle Bookshop.

Whiskerless cat, another pub and a faulty crossword

Since issue 11 of Ludlow Ledger text} Jon Saxon – PAST, PRESENT, FUTURE – SINCe issue 11 there has been no sign of the fallen tree, anchored against Ludford Bridge within the waters of the River Teme, being hoiked out – not surprising really, with the far more important business of now lugging actual stonework from these very same waters after someone, reversing down Lower Broad Street, took out a large section of the 15th-century bridge. With scheduled monument consent granted, and sections of scaffolding now in place, it is said that the necessary repairs will be done by May, but perhaps not completed in time for the Spring Festival. A mention was made last issue that Ludlow now has its own micro pub – that being a single room above Artisan Ales at 4 Old Street and known as The Old Tap Room. Since those printed words, plans have been afoot for a second, this one at the bottom of Corve Street at No 132. The blue, A4, premises-licence notice lists

licensable activities within the hours of 12noon and 6pm from Monday to Saturday, with Sunday’s proposed close of 4pm – along with a change of use notice denoting a desired switch from A1 to A4. The applicant is Peter Hadley. Any persons wishing to make a comment must do so by 19th April in writing (stating ref number: 16/01182/ FUL) to: Development Management, The Gateway, The Auction Yard, Craven Arms, Shropshire, SY7 9BW or registering any views online: pa.shropshire.gov.uk. And yes The Church Inn’s doors are still firmly open (at the time of writing anyway) despite the changing of guard and contracts – a matter of fact rather than fiction. Or is it? Ludlow Assembly Room’s exhibition, celebrating the life and work of the Ludlow-based artist and art teacher, 1Susie Church (who, sadly, died earlier this year from a brain tumour, aged 51) remains open until the end of April. Over 150 people attended

the celebration of Susie Church’s life, where warm tributes were paid. Notable among the speakers was the comedian Eddie Izzard, who Susie first met when they were both undergraduates at Sheffield back in the 1980s. Though Susie trained as an architect, her first love was always painting – particularly landscapes and buildings. She painted throughout the British Isles and Europe (though mostly in Ludlow and its environs) and worked in a variety of media – frequently pastel and watercolour, but she also embraced the new art form of digital painting, using an iPad over the last five years. The new technique enabled her to capture effects of light and landscape in outdoor painting with an immediacy that gives her digital work great spontaneity. The exhibition includes several examples of this digital work, and more than 30 of Susie’s digital paintings are available to buy as unframed prints, including many views of Ludlow and landscapes from the Welsh Marches. A percentage of the money raised through print sales will be donated to the Severn Hospice’s Hospice at Home programme. Susie lived in Ludlow for 20 years and loved the town, she was involved in Ludlow life in many ways. For several years she taught adult evening classes in art at Ludlow College, where she was also an occasional lecturer on art history for the Art A-Level course. In more recent years Susie was a popular tutor with three village art groups: Stanton Lacy, Bedstone and Weobley.

It is with great sadness that I write of the very recent passing of 2Amanda Brisbane, whom so many will know for her outlandish attire, giving nature, business acumen and legacy of global glass work and sculptures. Though an obituary of sorts was attempted it was abandoned in favour of the far more fitting tribute of repeating Amanda’s feature and her own words (from issue 3 of Ludlow Ledger). This can be found on the following two pages, hopefully allowing new audiences to this paper the opportunity of learning about this remarkable woman, who – as a creative business woman and enigmatic social butterfly – played a lion’s share in what makes Ludlow so vibrant, relevant and lasting. I’ve recently learned that former Ludlow resident, 3Bill Lowe (pictured with Checkie), has turned author with the launch of his first novel Gizmo the cat with no whiskers, based on his fond childhood memories and summer holidays spent travelling around the country in a dilapidated old VW camper van with his eccentric Aunt Mary and her beloved pet Devon Rex called Gizmo. Little did young Bill realize that these frequent forays in the company of his aunt and this unusual looking cat would eventually lead to him acquiring his very own Devon Rex, or, indeed, writing a novel about it. Available from Amazon, as will be the sequel: Gizmo The cat who had French lessons. Following on from last year’s Dog Day event, which raised nearly £20,000 for

a number of local and chosen Rotary charities, Ludlow Rotary Club is now planning the event for 2016, again to be hosted at Stokesay Court: this year featuring Jules Hudson of Escape to the Country and antique expert Kate Bliss. Gates will open on Sunday 24th July at 10am: ludlowdogday.co.uk. On the request front: Jolly Good Sing (the name given to an informal, fun, singing session that takes place in the Garden Room at Ludlow Methodist Church, 52 Broad Street) are after a pianist to share the weekly duties with their current pianist who is “...most capable, but would like the occasional week off.” If playing piano for an hour on a Monday afternoon sounds like fun, ring the session leader, Mary 01544 231732 to talk it over. For the rest of us: The sessions are held from 2pm, at a cost of £4.00 per session, and are styled on an oldfashioned, round-the-piano sing-along. There are no auditions, no dividing into vocal parts, nor is there a need to read music or pressure to memorise pieces for performances. “We generally get through about ten songs per session – from the shows, the Great American Songbook, some 50s and 60s pop, spirituals and the occasional folk song. You also don’t have to attend every week.” The 26th of April marks the last event to be staged to raise the muchneeded funds for the Ludlow Peace Memorial – a fund-raising campaign that has raised £7,000 over the last

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two years, for the names of Ludlow’s fallen soldiers from WW1 and WW2 to be engraved on the paving slabs surrounding the Peace Memorial on Castle Square. Hosted at Stokesay Court, the event is with cheese and wine, plus an evening of Spring and Summer fashion from F J Bodenham, Oska, Expensive Mistakes, and Brides of Ludlow; it starts at 7pm, with tickets priced at £10.00. ‘A Nice Cup of Tea’ is an exhibition of pastels and paintings by 4Mary Griffin, in her third solo show at the Silk Top Hat Gallery, Quality Square (01584 875363). The exhibition runs until 16th April. And, last but not least, is the ‘nearly impossible 5crossword’ grid, with no relationship to the clues that featured in Ludlow Ledger 11. I say nearly impossible because reader Geoff Wright worked out which words should slot into the boxes (you can see the results for yourself within the letters page). In all the excitement of finishing the 11th issue, I simply forgot to update the grid, and did I pay for it ... with endless calls, emails and actual bodies turning up on my doorstep expecting an explanation. As promised to all of you who took the time to question the error, the correct grid has been published (above) with the clues repeated (below). ACROSS 1 University’s new posh gym in awful surroundings can’t be stopped (15) 9 Film nut (6)

10 Persuade ﬁrm to bottle French wine with new crepe wrapper (8) 11 Caucasian member’s inane joke (8) 13 Baskets in topless clothing department (6) 14 Sportsman having a fag shows evidence of guilt (7,3) 16 Strike every other match (3) 17 Black gangster on stage (3) 18 After insolence, journalist’s going to be fed up (7,3) 21 Quiet one’s right to enter race, being top (1-5) 22 Dead small city houses couple of Eritrean residents (8) 24 Snappers nip Sarah’s pants (8) 26 Greek riot unit sang endlessly (6) 27 Prince’s foreign cleaner played as winger (9,6) DOWN 2 Tom’s run improved with potion (7) 3 Province’s revolutionary corner (5) 4 “God particle” wearing thin (7) 5 Place for play in core curriculum (3) 6 Supporter of bridge game (7) 7 Started at home with computers, with one worried daughter (9) 8 Tricky clue: right direction for lake (7) 12 Miser is grading rocks (7) 15 Bird declaring end to catnap? (9) 17 First of January and, like the setter’s, in flower (7) 18 Killer haircut for head of state (7) 19 Female repeated phrase for ofﬁcer of the law (7) 20 Assortment of stone in resort (7) 23 Racketeer’s loan laughable at the outset (5) 25 Students get up to see star (3)

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Amanda Brisbane

Recasting Amanda, for memory’s sake text} Jon Saxon | image} Claire Delany – MEMORIAL PROFILE – I’M not sure what impresses me most about Amanda’s adventure so far. Stopping Birmingham traffic just before Christmas, as four-tons of glass and slate are taken off the back of a lorry for Broad Street’s Regency Wharf, is up there. Then so is having a piece bought by the Corning Museum of Glass in New York ... as is receiving the Worshipful Company of Glass Sellers award in 1989 from the Lord Mayor of London. The litter of similar awards, including the Small Export Business award for the Midlands in 1995, a long roll call of commissions and the acres of Air Miles that have followed, are partnered by peculiar tales borne of this rather fantastic (and clearly blessed) business model, which stems back beyond the investment of The Crafts Council, DTI, and Shropshire Chamber of Commerce. But talk to Amanda for long enough and the guiding light that is Amanda’s father, John Brisbane, beams evidently through. “I’d just got off a red-eye flight from Detroit, after a show I had out at the Habatat Galleries. I literally went for the weekend. I got off this red eye and had The Daily Telegraph coming to my first studio in Galdeford, and Dad said to me: ‘Well where are all your hanging baskets? You should have hanging baskets outside the studio, what on earth do you think you’re doing?’ And I remember thinking: ‘Gosh, hang on a minute, I’m trying my hardest here.’ He was always like this … ‘you’ve got to have presentation, it’s all got to look fabulous’ – hence why there are so many hanging baskets outside now. He had a very good work ethic: you’ve got to get on, and you’ve got to get out there and be driven; you can’t be lazy – not in a strict way, but in a nice way.” It was much the same for Amanda’s siblings, two sisters (bronze-foundry Gabrielle in Putney and china-restorer Julia, over in Presteigne) alongside Onibury brother Michael, who trades in bamboo. “My Dad inherited his Dad’s business – which was Motorway Remoulds in Knighton – and he didn’t really want to be doing that, so that’s why he supported all of us – that’s why he kindly paid for me to go to Central Art & Design, and believed in us. That drive is what I’ve been given in my life; very privileged.”

Heading to London, in the early Eighties, Amanda enrolled in the College’s renowned foundation course – with an ambition to become a jewellery maker. Under the key tutorship of Caroline Broadhead and, perhaps more significantly, Wendy Ramshaw – revered as Britain’s foremost jewellery designer – it seems odd to be sat here knowing of these influences and talking to Amanda as a maker of glass rather than jewellery. “I was playing around with coloured film gels one day and the tutor said to me: ‘I think you’ve got the most amazing eye for transparencies of colour, maybe you should look at the glass course.’ So I went down to Farnham where Glass was a relatively new department. I went into the hot shop saw the fire and that was it.” Within the second year of this fledgling course a six-month’s scholarship was secured, taking Amanda to the Tyler School of Art, Philadelphia. It was here, in 1985, that Amanda was introduced to sand casting; an altogether different process to what most people expect. No they don’t blow glass here in Stanton Lacy: “Imagine yourself being on a beach, and making textures in the sand and casting hot molten glass in there, and then picking it up and manipulating it.” But beyond the fire and brimstone, is another layer seemingly lost under her success of glass – when you learn of another talent that supported her overseas education.... “I’m actually a very good knitter. I’d teach courses of an evening, or if people came in where they basically had made a mess of things ... I’d pick up all the stitches and get it back all together for them.” The same applied a year later in Boston, where Amanda studied for her Masters at the Mass School of Art. “I found this place and sort of became an out-worker: I had my own label sewn in, and got to a point where I would knit my designs without having a pattern – making it up as I went along. Well you know: you’ve got to work. A little random, I know.” Even at this stage Amanda’s glass work was gaining attention, with two pieces featuring in NeuesGlas, the international art and architecture magazine – at which time sand casting had become a part of her working process: blown sculptural pieces now married to cast elements.

“My first studio was in Lower Galdeford, down from Lloyds Pharmacy; I think there’s a hairdressers there now, behind what used to be Elim Pentecostal church. I moved there in 1987 and got involved in doing big contracts for Royal Caribbean cruise liners. Because of the access, we couldn’t get forklift trucks down that passageway. We were doing these huge sculptures, which were two metres diameter – I mean you just couldn’t move anything. I was then doing a contract for a designer called Nick Allen, in London – this huge Lazy Susan, with all these glass panels – a big project. I went in one morning and the pot had gone, and there was glass flowing out on the floor, and I thought – you know what – I think I’ve had enough.” Amanda took time out from the world of glass to marry, in 1992, and have daughter Georgia – she embarked on a second sitting of glass making in 1999. “We moved into Manor House, which is in Stanton Lacy, and the farm development was going on, right on our doorstep, so I got involved and looked at the spaces when they were literally derelict barns, and got talking to the estate and they said: ‘how much of the space do you want; how do you want it?’ And it was totally purpose built for us.” All these years on the fear is still there – as if it was only yesterday – of investing absolutely everything into a heavily ambitious venture, housed within an equally ambitious renovation, on the outskirts of Ludlow. “It was pretty scary. I thought: what am I going to do? I’ve got to be a bit more commercial. I want to sell work; I don’t want to have exhibitions. So I thought about this idea of making the vessels with the textures, and what have you – which has developed from there.” This process has catapulted creations inspired by fish, flowers, leaves and sea forms, to many different markets, with an avid client base collecting all shapes and sizes. The Middle East market is one of the strongest supporters of Amanda’s work, with the scale of the work perfectly suited to the scale of the homes in that corner of the globe. North America is another significant market for the work, marking how well these locally made, and often locally inspired, pieces translate overseas. And as for Amanda herself, I wonder how she translates? “They probably think I’m completely bonkers, quite frankly – but there you go.” What’s just as mad is that there’s hardly a sign of mishap upon her – considering the daily exercise with 1200 degrees of raging glass. It leaves me a little shy of the burn stories I was expecting. “Funnily I’ve had more burns off taps in hot baths than I have in the studio. Quite limited, really.” Seeking a sensational headline I enquire after the six glass panels commissioned by Whiston Hospital for their burns unit in

1988. “That is quite an odd commission, isn’t it? And no, I didn’t burn myself making it.” There are plenty of downsides to the business – with power cuts, flooding and occasionally being left without an urgent delivery of sand or gas. Even the clients can prove to be a headache. But behind the occasional run of sour luck is a semi-constant catalogue of clientele who are deserving of that wonderful Brisbane charm. Amidst the current commissions is also a brand new collection called Clear Worlds – that will join a long line of prior collections that have had pride of place at Neiman Marcus in Dallas, Harrods of London and Dubai’s Majlis Gallery – proving that the work continues to evolve, which says just as much of the studio environment and the partnership fostered by Amanda over the past 12 years. “I did find it difficult working with other people (trying to find people who shared my work ethic, and not crowding your space when you’re trying to be creative). Then finding Gail was like the answer to my dreams. Because she just understands what other things need to be done, to make. We talk about things, and then the next morning (after talking about leaves or something) there is a plaster mould put by the side of the table, for me to work with. She’s fantastic. And she is brilliant with her colour. I suppose I’m not the easiest person to work with, because I go about things probably in a very different way than what is conventional, really. So it’s quite difficult for other people to understand what I’m about. But Gail and I have a very good working relationship – we just bring things together – which is very special, really.” And let us not forget the part that Ludlow plays. “Ludlow is an amazing place to show off to people. I mean they just went wow when I did a presentation in America about Ludlow: ‘Is that really where you live, and you walk to work?’ And I’m proud of that, to think that’s one’s environment.” Amanda encourages her customers to visit too, from the likes of Istanbul and Kuwait. And to labour the point, a day prior to this interview, two collectors flew over from Bombay: “Their main reason for coming to the UK was to come to Ludlow.” How many other local businesses draw in their client base to proudly come and purchase a moment in time, here in Ludlow? What I do know, is that Ludlow’s first lady of glass is rather humble about it all – thankful in so many ways for her foundation and the life it has indeed allowed, yet excited, and full of expression in light of the next chapter. “I look back often and I feel very privileged – just amazed at what we’ve done – but then, maybe, the best is yet to come?”

ISSUE #10 Winning dancer: Hollie Victoria Robertson The Reader’s House investigated Mr Underhill’s uncovered Rose & Crown closure The U3A Meet & Greet: Working Solutions The Women’s Centre Local MGA rebuild Barmen’s greatest escape Ludlow’s Twelfth Night ludlowledger.com/archive

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ISSUE #11 Televised baker: experiencing the Victorian way Vintage Guns of Corve Street Inspirational Nicola North Winter Gardening Macbeth reviewed Q&A: Woodyard Gallery’s Geoffrey Adams The Dog Hangs Well Walking Football with Gary Seymour ludlowledger.com/archive

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Just a small selection of your kind emails, letters, postcards and social posts from Facebook and Twitter

Letters to the Ledger We’d love to hear from you – editor@ludlowledger.co.uk

– VIEWS & COMMENTS – JUST settling down to the fine Ledger crossword ... it’s really tricky this issue. I guess you already know about clues and grid being out of whack. Just thought I’d let you know in case. Nick Jenkin, Ludlow (via email) -------------------------------------------------I AM an avid reader of your publication. Do you mind telling me what the hell you’ve done with the crossword in this issue (LL11), it’s a complete mess: the clues don’t match the squares. I suggest you get your act together. Ken Westwood, Ludlow (via phone) -------------------------------------------------I WeNT to Ludlow school last night (17th February) to the Bugsy Malone play: it was absolutely fantastic: thoroughly enjoyed, and a full house too. All the children did a fabulous job, with all proceeds going to St Richard’s Hospice in memory of teacher Gareth Thomas, who died in January. I was therefore wondering if you would be interested in doing a piece on it for your paper? Sue Martin, Ludlow Sadly we missed this one. I’m sure the Ledger’s Prue Britten would have loved it. -------------------------------------------------TeN steps down tiny Fish Street, a few down Old Street, or a fleeting dash along Valentine’s Walk and you arrive, at King Street’s little sister – Pepper Lane. Ostracised, forgotten, or simply unknown, there she sits, neglected by the King Street footfall. But in Pepper Lane there is life. Here is artisan alley. Creativity corner. And here you will find men at work on the finer things in life, the things that impart small pleasures to our tired souls. It seems that from the 13th to the 17th century, Pepper Lane was the centre of the tailor’s trade. And we haven’t moved too far away from this with the presence of the engaging Martin Pryce, leather tailor, who crafts made-to-measure leather jackets, trousers, handbags, purses, belts, guitar straps and more, and who will tell you a tale of his musician escapades, if you have the time. Next door, the newly-arrived artist, Andy Nash, sits with his bamboo stick and inkpot, in the quaint Pepper House Studio, drawing Ludlow’s buildings and scenic panoramas for sale as souvenirs. You can commission a bespoke drawing of your house or business frontage too, which will adorn your private spaces as conversation pieces and memorabilia for years. He’ll advise you to “buy now, as when I’m dead the price will rocket”.

At the end of the lane, Sebastian, with his warm and accommodating demeanour, mounts and frames your pictures with gentle and acute care, and attention to detail (and the double-mount effect elevates artwork to another realm). In addition to this trilogy of artisanal endeavour, you can get your hair cut in Pepper Lane Barbers’ Shop, then buy a pot of homemade jam and sit for a cup of tea or vegetarian curry in The Working Together Café, which is a voluntary organisation and a charitable company, working to support and provide a focus for those with learning disabilities and their families. This is true and valuable care for your community. These five little beauties await. So, next time you’re in King Street on your way up to Buttercross, turn left at Carvell’s and take those ten steps down Fish Street, throw your arms open wide and fling them around Pepper Lane’s neck. Welcome her back into the fold. She misses you terribly. Sandra Sheilds, Ludlow -------------------------------------------------We have recently opened a hearing aid drop-in clinic at Helena Lane Community Centre, 20 Hamlet Road, Ludlow – which takes place every other Monday from 10-12 – and we run a Sight Loss support group in the town too. Hopefully the Ledger will be able to let local people know of the help available locally for people with sight or hearing loss.

have available. I am, therefore, a little unsure as to why your prior subscription copies were arriving so late. With regard to the packaging; the envelopes I use are the only ones (up to that time) that I had been able to source, suitable for the paper’s large Berliner format. However, I wholly agree with your point, and have taken time to source an alternative effective envelope; I have now switched packaging from a protective bubblebag to a nontransparent grey plastic mailer.

ACROSS 9 Oedipus complex is God’s work (4,3) 10 Notes about crossing Texas border in appropriate headgear (7) 11 Beast gets urge in hot area (5) 12 Low-fat garlic? It helps you see in the dark (5,4) 13 Overdoing the cream? (7) 14 Cunning snub heard on radio (7) 16 Alternative offer of marriage on table (7-8) 20 Preceding number in standard cipher (3,4)

23 Papa’s house is ideal (7) 25 Endless hours at Egos, just you and me (9) 26 Double negative and singular things forbidden (2-3) 27 Shelter of trees by hospital (7) 28 Mushy peas rot in the grass (7) DOWN 1 Bear to stay for second game (4,6) 2 What music makers do at start of ﬁlm on air (4,2) 3 One has immaculate conceptions (8) 4 Easy liver takes girl back – his home is in the country (8) 5 Digital signals have ﬁve functions in

JUST picked a copy of Ludlow Ledger today (belatedly, in the Library) and have enjoyed it. It certainly makes the crossword more interesting when one has to construct one’s own grid… Any prize for effort?

Rachel Whitney, Shrewsbury Considering the number of corrections I received last issue, with regard to the irregular crossword – it is clearly a wellthumbed page – making this a better spot for your announcement than any other. --------------------------------------------------

Geoff Wright, Ludlow Well you’ve certainly made it into the letters page.... I have also been looking high and low since your correspondence, to find something suitable within the Ludlow Ledger office, to offer it as a prize. If you fancy popping down to the office I have something for you. --------------------------------------------------

I WAS given a copy from a friend who picked the Ledger up at The Apple Tree pub and it has already been read – why are the subscription customers getting theirs so late? Also could you not find a better packaging, perhaps a recyclable plastic clear envelope? Finally, one a more optimistic note: Ludlow Ledger is a lovely paper with lots of interesting articles, a really good read.

PLeASe caption the photographs underneath each picture, instead of numbering them with footnotes. Muriel Raleigh, Craven Arms

Ursula Nias, Onibury Thank you for your questions and suggestions. I collect the paper myself from Manchester and deliver to the 80 or so stockists over the following couple of days. On the third day I package up, label and post subscriber copies, which are sent 2nd class. I do try my best to guarantee that both stockists and subscribers are happy, with the time I

audio (1-5) 6 Alight at railway town (6) 7 Alleviates curry sausages (8) 8 Snooty one gets up in bonbons (4) 15 Reservists’ fast display in competition (6,4) 17 Awfully rude man embraces right style of service (8) 18 Not even raiders steal mail for quick returns (8) 19 Normal level to cut leader of salsify roots (8) 21 Old one leaves area in a state (6) 22 Sprites eat river ﬁsh (6) 24 Groups of pathogen eradicable (6) 25 Line colour’s not right (4)

“It certainly makes the crossword more interesting when one has to construct one’s own grid”

Captioning each picture, rather than attributing long-form content, would make for an alternative and perhaps prompter reader experience (creating a far simplified route to source), but that would, in my mind, upset the delicate balance between photography and the written word which the house style has carefully adopted since issue 1.

Choice

Never ending options text} Simon Pease

– OBSERVATIONS – I’M standing in a local supermarket, trying to select a tube of toothpaste. I haven’t bothered counting the number of tubes on offer, but there are a lot – at least three different brands, each with a toothpaste to cover a myriad specific requirements. I find myself thinking of other times when I have found the range of goods on offer frankly stupefying and questioning whether we really need this much choice. But we are lucky, aren’t we? Fortunate to live in a place, and at a time, when we are free to make choices about most of the things that affect our lives. Mostly, we can choose what we do for a living, where we live, where our children go to school and so on. On a larger scale, we can choose who to vote for, and whether or not to support the big issues of the day without fear of being carted off by thugs officially licensed by our government. Soon, we are told, we will be able to choose how to vote on the question of our relationship with the EU. In some places in the world all these choices would seem like an unimaginable luxury. We are fortunate indeed. On the other hand, as with many things, there is a question of balance. When it comes to politics, we should have a wide choice, be free to make decisions and to cast our votes. But some of the choices we make today have other implications – piles of consumer goods lying unsold, wasted precious resources, including (criminally) food that ends up in landfill. There is more and more that we can consume, and less and less space to put it, while, in other parts of the world, the choice is whether or not to risk running past the snipers to buy whatever food is available. Many of us would like to do something about this, and many people do what they can – give to charity, or support some organisation or cause which is of particular concern. The other thing we can do is to value the choices we are given and use them; not to do so feels a bit like an insult to all those who don’t have the choice. Back to toothpaste, or whatever it is we need to buy today. I was interested to hear, in a recent radio interview, the head of a large group of department stores say that his organisation saw its role as ‘editing’ the choice available for its customers. I like the sound of this, if it means someone else has looked at the available products and provided a range of the best at a range of prices because, frankly, I have better things to do. I’ve always been suspicious of those restaurants that offer an enormous range of choice – surely they can’t do all of it well. I’d rather see a limited menu and know what is offered is made with care by someone who knows what they are about. I like to think that Ludlow edits choice for us; we have traders who provide a limited range of goods, but most of what I need, I can find here and most of it is good. So I am going to exercise my right to choose where it matters, and sometimes let others edit my choice; no more shopping lists that just say ‘toothpaste’. Or a pint in a bar where the landlord chooses the ale with care and knows how to keep it.

Gardening

Getting real in the garden text} Nicki Lewis-Smith | image} Denmarkfarm.org.uk

– GARDENING – I WAS flicking through a back number of a ‘country’-type glossy magazine – (you know the sort: all things rural with patchwork teapots, hazel bean poles and lace-up wellies) the one that’s actually aimed more at the South Kensington market than us. As a gardener, I homed in on the garden section with its very beautiful photography but not quite real... Stage-set galvanised buckets and watering cans strategically placed, happy chickens scratching in immaculate borders and rosy-faced children tugging at mummy’s spotless gardening apron, while she smiles benignly and pretends to snip off a rose to place in her trug. Ha! The reality, as us proper folk know, is far from that. How we would love it to be all things terracotta and slug free as these glossy magazines would have us believe – but it’s not. At this time of year, when our gardens are laid bare, there’s no hiding places for those plastic pots to roll to, and plant stakes still lean drunkenly with

the sagging skeletal remains of some prized plant, tied at the waist with rotting twine. And if it’s not brown, it is grey. That London ‘distressed’ look is rather different from the ‘distressed gardens of Ludlow in Winter’ look. I’ve heard it said that February is the shortest month because nobody wants it – but now it’s March and, if you can bring yourself to concentrate on something other than mud and chilblains, you’ll notice that the days are definitely drawing out as the first day of Spring is getting nearer. In the many gardens that I tend to in and around Ludlow, I have been seeing little windows of spring from the beginning of the year – snowdrops, aconites, buds on the honeysuckle and then the green bullet noses of emerging daffodils and tulips (unless, of course, the free range chickens / children have pecked / trampled them). In one garden, I was helping, belatedly, to clear away a soggy mass of crocosmia leaves; beneath there were not only strong new shoots, but also a tiny nest. It belonged to a

hazel dormouse and consisted of a tight spiral of dried grasses and leaves and, I presume, a dormouse. I put an empty hanging basket over it filled with more leaves and grass, and hoped it would be protected from cats, rats and cold. That’s one of the joys of gardening, you never quite know what you will come across, and it’s the small things like a dormouse nest that will make a day special. Probably more so at this time of year, especially with catkins in the hedgerows like rows of lambs tails, blackbirds with beaks stuffed with nesting material while still managing to sing, and the humble daffodil, seemingly unscathed, heralding in a new Spring. So here’s the scene: daffodils threaded through an old orchard with trees fat with blossom and humming with bees, then filter through sharp sunlight to cast a dappled shade... it’s a page that could be straight out that glossy magazine, but it’s not. It’s real and it’s Ludlow.

Editor-in-chief Jon Saxon Sub editor Sally Newman-Kidd Photographers Andrew Fusek Peters, Claire Delany, Christian Schwetz, Gail Turbutt, Ashleigh Cadet Authors Liz Hyder, Simon Pease, Nicki Lewis-Smith, Bob Leech, Andrew Fusek Peters, Prue Britten, Chris Crowcroft Crossword John Jarvis Cartoon Roger Penwill –––––––––– Publisher Son of Saxon 14 Corve Street, Ludlow, SY8 1DA 01584 872381 www.ludlowledger.co.uk jon@sonofsaxon.co.uk –––––––––– Printer The Guardian Print Centre Media Park, Longbridge Road, Parkway Estate, Manchester, M17 1SN Paper 100% recycled 52gsm 76ISO improved Berliner newsprint –––––––––– Online Website: www.ludlowledger.co.uk Twitter: @ludlowledger –––––––––– Advertising There are a number of different ways to explore advertising in Ludlow Ledger: Download ludlowledger.com/advertise Email ads@ludlowledger.co.uk or Phone 01584 872381 Office Discuss advertising in person at 14 Corve Street, Ludlow, SY8 1DA –––––––––– Legal All rights reserved. No part of Ludlow Ledger may be copied or reproduced, in whole or in part, without the strict written permission of the publisher –––––––––– Production schedule ISSUE 13 Editorial: 20th April, 2016 Print: 6th June, 2016 ISSUE 14 Editorial: 20th June, 2016 Print: 8th August, 2016

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Letters page image} Gail Turbutt

– COVER STORY – < continued from the front page the then renowned curator at the museum; Nina wrote to Rothstein and was delighted to receive a letter back full of good advice and helping to set her on a new path that led her first to LA and, much later, to Ludlow. After obtaining a BTEC (it would now be an MSc) in conservation studies, Nina landed a job at Hampton Court Palace where she found herself mending tapestries. “You can get lost in them,” she says. “They’re huge things, spread out on these great looms with six of you sitting there working on them.” Her, then, boyfriend wanted to head to LA, and Nina jumped at the chance of a new challenge. “There were all sorts of things: I worked for the Frank Lloyd Wright Foundation (where they had lots of Japanese textiles) for the Hearst, for the Santa Fe Museum ... all sorts of places. Once, some things came in from one of my heroes, Fred Astaire ... his dancing shoes and a scarf.” It was in LA that Nina ventured into curating rather than just conservation. As anyone who’s been into 55 Mill Street will know, there’s a real art to putting the right dealers in the right rooms with the right items on sale, and Nina’s own room is a masterclass in how to draw shoppers in. However, back then, the work in LA wasn’t quite so exciting. “I was cataloguing and doing lowly things,” Nina grins. Whilst not being to everyone’s tastes, given Nina’s penchant for Thirties ball gowns and Hollywood glamour, it sounds like LA really suited her. So what brought her back to Blighty? “My mother died unexpectedly,” says Nina, simply. “It really concentrated my mind – where do I live, here or there? America is a funny place and I grew up here...” Mind made up, she applied for an MA in Textiles and returned to Britain where she juggled study with work at Hampton Court, which had just become part of ‘Historic Royal Palaces’. The Museum of London had recently given the Royal Dress Collection to the organisation and Nina found herself working on a range of unique historic items including George III’s waistcoat. “It had all sorts of stuff down the front of it,” she says. “Normally with conservation, you’re trying to remove dirt but on this occasion we were trying to preserve it.” It’s this connection to both individuals and history that really excites Nina. “It’s why I love vintage, that connection to the people who wore it, the people who made it; it’s why I prefer textiles to furniture and why, to me, it’s the most exciting of the applied arts. It’s the combination of the object in its own right and that direct link to the past.” That passion for the combination of people and textiles fascinates Nina and urged her on to an MSc in Material Anthropology and Museum Ethnography at Oxford. How did she find Oxford? She laughs: “I liked it, you spend your whole time there thinking everyone else is cleverer than you, but it was extremely stimulating.” Although Nina, like all dealers, won’t be drawn on where she sources her finds (much to my disappointment), she’s always been a big fan of jumble sales and laments how rare they’ve become these days. She thinks charity shops are expensive and is saddened by the throwaway culture of supermarket clothing. “It’s why I started wearing vintage, the sheer quality of the cut and the fabric. A lot of clothing now is so badly made, the cut’s all wrong and the fabric is horrible. I could never afford to wear the clothes I wanted to wear new and I still find that, everyday, something I’m wearing will be vintage.” So what does inspire Nina’s own collection at 55 Mill Street? “I buy it to be worn,” she says, frankly. “Others buy vintage full stop. I only buy things to wear, whatever that might be. It could be a Thirties dress that you wear with Converse shoes in the summer, or an Edwardian or Victorian jacket that you could wear with jeans.” Her favourite eras are Twenties, Thirties and select early Seventies – “things like Ossie Clark, not the nasty crimplene and polyester clothes. Fabric means

a lot to me, I won’t buy something if I don’t like the fabric, even if the cut is good.” She thinks for a moment. “I do like some very early Sixties too, if you think of Sophia Loren with that fitted top and then the big skirt, they really thought about the shapes and the illusion of shape where you don’t have it. After all, that’s what clothes are all about – otherwise we would all be wearing sacks...” The clothes in 55 Mill Street always seem to be very reasonably priced, given that almost everything in there is unique. After all, the chances of bumping into someone at a party wearing exactly the same Forties dress as you are is pretty slim, yet the cost of most of the clothing is close to or often cheaper than mass-produced items on the high street. Just the day before we met, three generations of the same family visited the shop and bought six items for £350 – the clothing included four coats, one of which is an extremely rare Thirties Chanel number. “We do have people who come up regularly to visit family here and always make a point of popping in”. The turnover of clothes and other items in the shop must be quite high, given that it’s rare to see the same thing in there for more than a week – except for the rather drunk looking old teddy that’s propped up in the front window. Nina bursts out laughing. “Ah, that’s Richard’s sense of humour,” she reveals, “he’s the dealer in that first room.” He’s not the only male dealer either – Peter Burden, renowned writer, campaigner, raconteur and perennial wearer of silk neckerchiefs, sells books and men’s clothing, and helps with the accounts. He’s also Nina’s husband and was a huge support to her when she took on the management of the whole building. Previously, 55 Mill Street was known as Zani Lady and The Wearhouse, and it was run and managed by Sue Humphries. Some years ago, Nina took up a room in the building as a dealer herself. It meant that she could use her combined passion and expertise in vintage but manage her own hours, a crucial thing for her as a (then) single mum to her son, Felix. “I couldn’t do that being a curator, it’s virtually impossible for a single mother. There are evening events you need to go to on top of the actual job - it can be all encompassing. At one point, I used to drop Felix off at nursery, drive to Brecon, work and then rush back hoping I’d get back before he was the last one at the school gates. I felt like I wasn’t doing anything very well.” In 2012, when Sue decided to give up the running of the building, Nina stepped in, with much encouragement from Peter, but only on the proviso that someone else would share the responsibility. She laughs. “No-one else came forward so it was just me in the end. Running the building should really be a full time job but then there’s my own room too and textiles that inevitably need mending…” Tuesday is Nina’s regular day at her studio, working on repairs and restoration. Nina is very keen that 55 Mill Street feels like a welcoming shop, she very much wanted to avoid it feeling like an antiques centre. “Some people do think it’s all one person,” she says with a twinkle in her eye. “We try very hard to make it balanced. Some people think it’s all clothes but actually it’s about half and half.” Nina loves working with the other dealers in the building too. “The best dealers are genuinely independently minded, they pick items that reflect their own personality. Keeping them all happy is one of my main tasks – as well as the customers. I love seeing all the different things that everyone has brought in, we often buy things for ourselves from each other…. It’s the social anthropologist in me too, but I love talking to dealers and to customers, all those different characters and that moment when you find exactly the right thing someone wants, that’s fun.” And, I have to say, from my many hours browsing the delights of Mill Street, both on my own and with friends and visitors, it’s enormous fun for the punters too.

52 MILL STREET, LUDLOW www.blueboarludlow.co.uk

ISSUE #13 EDITORIAL DEADLINE

20th April 2016

ISSUE #13 AD DEADLINE

12th May 2016 ads@ludlowledger.co.uk

Page 10 and cover text} LIz Hyder | images} Christian Schwetz

Brand X

Now that’s what I call music 01584 text} Bob Leech – MY STORY – LIVING in the maisonettes in the early Sixties, my next-door neighbour was Roy Jeffs (his father Bill was the Council Mace Bearer for many years). Roy was a few years older than me but he was like a hero to me back then. On his 18th birthday he was given a Fender Bass Sunburst guitar and he spent hours learning how to play it; he even tried to teach me, but the guitar was as big as I was. He became the bass player for a local group called The Sharks, and I used to go with him to watch them practise. If my memory serves me well there was Roy on bass, Aggie Shepherd on drums, Dave Banks lead guitar, another rhythm and Johnny ‘Guitar’ Guthrie taking care of vocals, playing R&B and Rock & Roll. Having been enthralled by this I would go home, up to my bedroom, turn on my transistor radio to Radio Luxembourg, tilt the mirror back so that my hair looked longer, grab the hair brush and mime to all the songs. At that time I was about 14 and at Ludlow Secondary School. I used to call for my mate Graham Nash on the way to school and he always took his time getting ready, so would put a Shadows LP on for me to listen to ... the music inspired us to form our own school group (myself, Graham, Mick Woodcock and Gordon Wall) and our first gig on stage was in front of the whole school. I think we played three Shadows’ instrumental numbers and did all the moves; we were wearing black shirts and white ties. Upon leaving school Graham and I formed another band with myself (drums), Graham (rhythm), Mick Woodcock (lead and vocals), and Alan Bufton (bass) and we practised in a lorry container in Sandpits Garage. I still knocked about with Roy, who was then driving for Chukie Chicken (J P Woods), and still playing with The Sharks, along with Johnnie ‘Guitar’ Guthrie who had then moved into a caravan in Sandpits Garage. That’s where I first heard the old adage “If the caravan’s rocking don’t come knocking”. He had a fabulous light blue Ford Consul Convertible, complete with column change and bench seat. We moved to a barn in Lower Mill Street to practise and decided on the name Brand X (the term was used a lot in advertising throughout the Fifties and Sixties – it represented a leading brand or product that the advertised brand would always outperform). During this time we used to hang out at MacDonalds – a milk bar/coffee bar that was run by a Mr Sherbourne and situated right next to the Clifton Cinema on Old Street (Sadly Clifton Cinema was closed in 1979 and demolished in 1987 – Clifton Court sheltered housing flats were built upon the site. We also used to hang out at Derek Davis’s record shop, where we would listen to all the latest records; Derek (later a Town Councillor) was a great help to us and other local bands thinking of starting up. We still used to watch The Sharks rehearse, but we were invited by another Ludlow group, The Four Aces, to watch them at Julian Hall. The Four Aces comprised Bob Maddox (rhythm and vocals), Colin Jones (lead), Roger Phillpots (bass) and were a real professional outfit – furthermore they allowed us to rehearse there. At that time we started playing a few gigs, firstly at Friars Hall youth club and (believe it or not) at another

youth club in the basement of The Readers House – it was a nightmare getting the gear up and down there. Johnnie ‘Guitar’ Guthrie was well known in the business and offered to manage us. Once we agreed he bought a second-hand Commer van for us to tour in. Next stop, The Palladium? Well, no … Diddlebury Village Hall. We went on to have some great nights playing anywhere in a 30-mile radius – places such as Newtown, Shrewsbury, Hereford, Welshpool, Cleobury, Bishops Castle, Clun, Knowbury, as well as Ludlow’s Town Hall, Clifton Cinema, and The Tally Ho Club (a nightclub/casino, which is now Golden Moments). It was during this period that my sister collected my curls after my hair was cut; she went on to sell them to her friends at school. I wish I could have them back. One of my favourite venues was The Farlow Village Hall where we played a few times. I remember one occasion when there was a little old man on the door – one minute he was collecting the money, the next some of the Clee Hill lads had hung him on a coat hook. Another firm memory was our return from playing at Bishop’s Castle when we turned the van over. Luckily no one was hurt, especially considering all the sound equipment flying about in the back, so we all got together, got it back on its wheels and carried on home. During this period we had some fantastic dance halls at The Bridge in Tenbury Wells and The Regal, in the other direction, at Craven Arms, where chart-topping bands would play – including The Beatles. Back in those days a lot of the bands would sit down and have a pint and a chat with you, these included The Tremeloes, Johnny Kidd and The Pirates, The Applejacks, Billy J Kramer and the Dakotas, and The Searchers. We were all working lads by this time and the gigs were getting further away. This was a struggle for Graham, who worked shifts in Wolverhampton for British Rail, and he was forced to step down; a young Stan Speake took his place. One weekend we were down as far as Torbay in Devon, where we bought some lip sticks to write all over the van: “I luv Mick”, “Barbara digs Graham”, “Bob 4 ever” and so on. Not long after this we made the decision to break up, with Mick going to work for the MEB, but he continued to play in local pubs for many years until his sad death a few years ago. Alan joined the RAF, lives in Shrewsbury and still plays in a band to this day, whilst Stan went on to become a great session drummer with Island Records – joining Andy Fraser and Adrian Fisher to form Toby, following the first split of Free in 1971. He still bangs a stick today. I moved to North London where I met Mike Smith and Dave Clark of The Dave Clark Five, who got me some gigs around Tottenham with some local bands. This is the story of Brand X, but there were several other groups around town that should be mentioned, namely Mark Antony and The Senators, The Sharks, Chapter Two, and The Four Aces, who had a long career backing some of the top bands (including The Who). Perhaps someone else will take up the baton and tell their musical story from this wonderful era. Colin Nash over to you....

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Appletree

Riding the highs and lows of pantomime text} Prue Britten | image} Ashleigh Cadet – REVIEW –

drawings of local people and places, including a 458mm x 610mm sketch of Ludlow’s Cicchetti Bar

The primary purpose of a pantomime is to entertain and Red Riding Hood, from Appletree, did just that. There were hisses and boos for villains, cheers and shrieks for heroes, and all concerned enjoyed themselves. It was regrettable that there was not a larger audience but perhaps the scheduling of an exciting pantomime lasting more than two hours, including an interval, might be too late for younger members, with a school day the following morning. A curate’s egg (excellent in places), this show was a great antidote to the magical, slick and effortless offerings we have come to expect from television and film. It was a traditional panto, warts and all, with the oldfashioned scenery and costumes taking older members of the audience back to their childhood – in the nicest possible way. The first half was tentative, with some fluffing of lines, and one or two people on stage seeming not to know why they were there, but this was much better after the interval, when the pace picked up and the performers demonstrated their ability to interact with the audience. The starry-eyed lovers (with lashings of mascara), Poppy Wilde and Dan Wilby (Red Riding Hood and Peter the Woodcutter), posed, thigh-slapped and trod the line between predictable and camp with consummate professionalism. Ros Brown (Fairy of the Forest) spent a lot of time in front of a, somewhat, visually inadequate curtain, vocally combating the bangs and bumps as the crew changed the scenery. Despite a plodding script she overcame every hurdle with clarity, lightness and charm. Simon DeVay (the Wicked Wolf) made the most of playing a ‘baddie’ but could have been scarier. While not

wishing to give children nightmares, a more wolf-like costume (perhaps a mask or head) would have added considerably to the fear factor. Neil Jeffery (Granny Knott) and the impressive Wayne Swann (Squire Bullymore) made a commendable double act, aided and abetted by David Scotswood (Reddy) and Ian Seddon, and the whole cast and Fuzion dancers gave winning performances. Congratulations to all and to the director, Morgan Rees-Davies. During the interval four 10 and 11-year-old boys gave it ‘10 out of 10’, and, watching the faces of the audience at the final curtain, it would be hard to disagree.

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Ferrari F50

The fact of the matter text} Jon Saxon | image} True Auto

– MOTORING – I reCeNTLy discovered that there are 23 doctors in North America by the name Dr. Doctor though only one called Dr. Surgeon. I have also learned that Alaska has the highest percentage of people who walk to work, that Nicole Kidman is frightened of butterflies, and, that in order for a female pigeon’s ovaries to function, she must be able to see another pigeon. I know that the word ‘set’ has more definitions than any other word in the English language, and that Virginia Woolf, supposedly, wrote all of her books standing. I was even more impressed to learn that koalas are excellent swimmers, and that public contests were held in ancient Japan to see who could fart the loudest and the longest. I have frequently been criticised for frittering away column inches like this (stringing together frivolous facts that mask themselves as fiction) yet people still cock an ear when I mention that oak trees are struck by lightning more often than any other

tree and that Kleenex tissues were originally used as filters in gasmasks. As a motoring journalist, I have used my passion for melding facts and cars to its limit – perhaps the best example being my review of Ferrari’s F50, which first featured in Etihad inflight Magazine; later RuberDuckMagazine, which read: Most have an inkling that the Italian car manufacturer, Ferrari, launched their 513bhp F50 supercar in 1995 to celebrate the company’s 50th anniversary, but how many knew that the F50 concept was actually born out of a dinner party conversation at Ferrari HQ in Maranello, (circa 1990) where Ferrari test driver Dario Benuzzi happened to mention that a rat can fall from a five-storey building without injuring itself? From that landmark day the (then) company’s vice chairman, Piero Ferrari, decided that he would build a £329,000 car based on facts; trivia that its owner could spill at similarly key functions. The lengths that he and the designer, Lorenzo Ramaciotti, went to are commendable. The fact which

I find most fascinating is that only 349 Ferrari F50s were made – one fewer than Ferrari’s Dr. Michele Scannavini estimated they could sell. They did this on purpose – their spokesman, Antonio Ghini, insisting that Ferraris must be hard to find (satisfying the factoids among us by producing one less car than the market demanded). A stroke of genius. In fact the car was so special that the Ferrari F50 had its own production line. And of the 349 F50s that rolled off this line, only four people ordered their specimens in Nero Daytona black (a similar number for Argento Nürburgring silver) compared to the 302 in Rosso Corsa red, 31 in Giallo Modena yellow and eight in Rosso Barchetta – which is a dark shade of red. The body under the paint (made entirely of lightweight carbon composites) was actually inspired by Alain Prost’s 1990 Ferrari 641/2 Formula 1 race-car. The car even has the same carbon-fibre chassis and pushrod suspension. Best of all – the naturally aspirated 4700cc V12 engine block was developed from the 3.5-litre V12 used in the 1992 Ferrari GP car. And the one and only F50 I have ever driven once belonged to Rod Stewart. This very car is rumoured to have stiletto heel marks in the removable roof panel – I did check, but for love nor money could not locate the size 5 impressions. Fact or not, I like the possibility. I also like the fact that the typical temperature chosen by those who prefer to shower rather than bathe is 38.3333333 degrees Celsius. -------------------------------------------------Talking of his F50 in his autobiography, Rod said: “I can remember the moment when that calming down happened. I was on holiday in Spain with Penny, in 2004, and I was hurtling us down a mountain in a Ferrari F50 – showing off, frankly. As we took a blind corner, I was confronted by the nightmare scenario: a lorry coming the other way in the middle of the road. I somehow found a gap and we slipped through, just grazing the wing mirror. But it felt like a warning. These days, if I’m in a tight spot, I have no qualms at all about getting out and leaving Penny to park it.”

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