Friday, 6 November 2020

If there’s a duke there, he can sit somewhere opposite me

Lady Elizabeth Anson, who recently departed for Fabulon, was a cousin of Her Majesty The Queen on her mother's side - and by all accounts sounds as if she was quite the hoot. It's not every royal who counted Paul O'Grady as a best friend, or could have had the nickname for Her Maj of "Shirley Temple"...

Lady Anson's forte - her career - was as a party planner, not just for royal events such as HM's 80th and 90th birthday parties and Wills and Kate's wedding reception, but also Sting's wedding, Margaret Thatcher's 70th birthday party and events for clients such as Tom Cruise and Sacha Baron-Cohen, among many others in her 50 year career. All of them had such nicknames, to ensure confidentiality when the Lady was making her arrangements.

From an interview with The New York Times in 2016, here are a few of her tips for success, dear reader, when planning your next dinner party for several hundred people including Baronets and Earls:

  • The invitation sets the tone.
    If you have a cheap-looking invitation, she says, “you imagine there’s going to be acidic wine and miserable food.” Simple and elegant are preferable to invitation one-upmanship: “Someone wanted me to do ‘save the dates’ with Swarovski crystals costing no less than £2,500 a card, and that’s just vulgarity.”
  • Good parties don’t have to be extravagant.
    “A party with good table wine and good pasta or good sausages and mash can be just as much of a success as one with Krug, caviar, oysters and lobster,” Lady Elizabeth says. “It’s not about expensive ingredients. It’s about people.”
  • Good lighting is essential.
    After the guests, the single most important element of a party is proper illumination. “Lighting makes or breaks it. You can use it to make people look nice and to divide a big room up.”
  • Getting everyone seated.
    If you’re trying to get guests to take their seats, tell them it’s a soufflé. “I’ve never had anyone come back to me later and complain that it wasn’t,”.
  • Seat all the bores together.
    “They don’t realize they’re the bores, and they’re happy,” she says. “It’s my biggest tip.”
  • A round dining table is best
    When entertaining at home, Lady Elizabeth is always glad she has a round dining room table so she can dispense with protocol - no worries about determining who is the most important guest and thus seated in the middle. “It makes life easier. If there’s a duke there, he can sit somewhere opposite me if I think there’s somebody more amusing that I want to sit next to.”
  • Pick up the phone.
    It’s the fastest way to get organized, and there are fewer misunderstandings. “It’s old fashioned but it’s instantaneous. I don’t want endless emails and bits and bobs.”
  • End a party when there’s at least 20 people on the dance floor.
    “If you let it peter out, it’s death,” she says. “I made one mistake in the whole of my career, which was being persuaded to restart the band. It was a flop.” Announce (or have the band say) that it’s the second to last dance, and then stop the bar from serving. “People leave fast when they can’t get a drink.”.

RIP, Lady Elizabeth Georgiana Shakerley CVO (née Anson, 7th June 1941 – 1st November 2020)

Thursday, 5 November 2020

The Chameleon

The ever-changing marvel that is Miss Tilda Swinton celebrates her 60th birthday today.

All hail!

Katherine Matilda Swinton (born 5th November 1960)

Sunday, 1 November 2020

A mustering of Marchionesses

On reading of the recent death of Serena Belinda ("Lindy") Rosemary Guinness, "the last Marchioness of Dufferin and Ava", and learning that one of her bequests was the magnificent Shamrock Tiara above, my interest was piqued enough to find out more about the Marchionesses and their finery...

First of this esteemed (and now defunct) line was the stern-looking Hariot Georgina Hamilton-Temple-Blackwood. Born into a convoluted line of inheritance (her father, despite being a wealthy landowner and inheritor of Killyleagh Castle, once part of the estates of the Viscounts Clandeboye, was a famed Irish independence campaigner) and her marriage to her distant cousin Frederick Temple Blackwood (another in the Clandeboye line) was originally seen as merely "politically prudent", by way of healing rifts among the claimants upon the various strands of this inheritance. However, in contrast to so many women of her class and generation, rather than just remain the loyal "hostess-wife" as her husband rose in stature through various important diplomatic posts in the British Empire - including missions to the Middle East, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, Governor General of Canada, ambassador to Imperial Russia and to the Ottoman Empire, culminating in becoming Viceroy of India - she became actively engaged in cultivating social ties and welfare services in all the lands where her husband's postings took her. To this day, numerous 'Lady Dufferin' hospitals and clinics still exist in India, providing healthcare and health education to the poor; in particular, to women.

The diamond and pearl Dufferin and Ava Shamrock Tiara was first commissioned for the wedding of Hariot and Frederick, and became a favourite piece in the first Marchioness's ensemble.

Whether the second Marchioness, the American heiress and singer Florence (Flora) Hamilton Davis - who assumed the title when her husband, the second son (his older brother was killed in the Boer War) Lord Terence John Temple Hamilton-Temple-Blackwood, succeeded his father in 1902 - ever got to wear the tiara seems unlikely, as Terence died of pneumonia in 1918, and his mother, the Dowager, lived on until 1936. It is doubtful whether it mattered much to Flora, however, as she went on to wed "one of the richest and most distinguished nobleman in England," Richard George Penn Curzon, 4th Earl Howe. The story begins to resemble "The Fall of the House of Usher"; as the title passed to the third son Frederick, and his wife Brenda (née Woodhouse) became third Marchioness - but he, too, predeceased his mother when he was killed in a plane crash in 1930. Brenda also remarried well, becoming Lady Somerset on her marriage into a branch of the aristocratic Beaufort dynasty. At least Fred and Brenda [they sound such terribly parochial names nowadays] had kids...

Basil Sheridan Hamilton-Temple-Blackwood, the son and heir to the Dufferin and Ava title, was a notable Conservative politician and married to brewery heiress Maureen Constance Guinness, who became the fourth Marchioness. She was born of very different stock to her predecessors - having been known as one of the "Guinness Golden Girls", she was fabulously wealthy in her own right, a flamboyant socialite, and took to her new title with aplomb. The parties she hosted at their homes both in London and at Clandeboye in Northern Ireland were the talk of society. When Basil, like his father and uncles before him, died prematurely fighting in Burma in WW2 he left the family estate up to its neck in debt - so Marchioness Maureen bought it!

True to form, the estate now in the hands of its own stand-alone trust, she also kept the Marchioness title for most of her life (despite re-marrying twice) - and at every opportunity, she wore the Shamrock Tiara! [Although some members of her family probably wished she hadn't; her granddaughter recalled in her own memoirs: "At my mother's coming-out ball, attended by Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret, my grandmother 'overserved' herself champagne and slipped on the dancefloor, cracking the priceless shamrock-shaped family tiara. She never drank again."]

In his obituary for the formidable fourth Marchioness, the "biographer of great historical gays" Philip Hoare said of her:

Throughout the Fifties and Sixties she played her role as part of the international set who moved restlessly around the world. In 1961 she visited Noel Coward and the Flemings in Jamaica, and in 1965 was "the rehearsal" for Coward's famous lunch party for the Queen Mother...
Even in her nineties she was still throwing lively annual dinner parties for the Queen Mother at her home in Knightsbridge, at which the likes of Sir Alec Guinness and Barry Humphries could be found. Indeed, in later life the Marchioness - the model for Osbert Lanchester's Maudie Littlehampton - appeared also to have inspired Dame Edna.

The story doesn't end there, of course. True to their stock, courtesy of their unconventional mother, two of the offspring of Basil and Maureen went slightly "off the rails" (as far as high society circles are concerned). Only the middle child, Perdita, a respectable horse breeder (still alive, aged 96), seemed to have passed through unscathed. Lady Caroline eloped with the painter Lucien Freud and hung out with bohemians and beatniks before, a couple of marriages later, becoming a writer (and alcoholic).

As for Sheridan - the apple of his mother's eye and heir to the Marquessate - he entered the art world as a gallery owner and art patron [he supported David Hockney, and later, Derek Jarman, including his film Sebastiane] and, despite being well known as an outrageous queen, got married in style to his fourth cousin Belinda "Lindy" Guinness - the fifth Marchioness. She, of course, wore the Shamrock Tiara at the wedding.

Lindy and Sheridan, despite the unusual nature of their marriage, followed the Dowager's lead and became consummate society party hosts in the trendy art world of the Swinging Sixties - as Warhol acolyte Mark Lancaster described: "they were legendary in the late 1960s. You would find yourself talking to Princess Margaret or Duncan Grant and Angelica Garnett, or Francis Bacon or Stephen Spender or the Queen Mother."

And so we come full circle... Sheridan Hamilton-Temple-Blackwood, 5th Marquess of Dufferin and Ava, died of AIDS in 1989, leaving "the last Marchioness" to continue managing the estate trust. Her own family was another particularly unconventional" one - her father Loel Guinness left her mother for the glamorous Gloria Rubio y Alatorre who, as Gloria Guinness, became one of the most lauded glamorous fashion icons of her generation; it was through this connection that young Lindy met Truman Capote [Gloria was one of his "swans"]. Another friend of hers was Duncan Grant of the Bloomsbury Group, and Lindy became an artist in her own right even before marrying Sheridan. Under her guidance, the Clandeboye estate hosted an artistic and a conservation centre, as well as making prize-winning yoghurt, hosting music festivals, a golf course and banquet hall for weddings.

The Shamrock Tiara is currently on loan to the Victoria and Albert Museum (V&A) in London, but no-one is quite sure who will inherit it...

Lindy Hamilton-Temple-Blackwood, Marchioness of Dufferin and Ava (née Guinness, 25th March 1941 – 26th October 2020).

Saturday, 31 October 2020

Friday, 30 October 2020

This weekend, I am mostly dressing casual...

...like the early 20th century's answer to Ariana Grande*, opera diva Miss Geraldine Farrar!

*At her final performance on 22nd April 1922, the New York Times noted:

Geraldine Farrar has gone and the "Gerry-flappers" are disconsolate.

The flapper claque, as ardent a group of worshippers as ever paid tribute to their idol, wept and shouted at their Gerry, strung banners across the orchestra pit over the heads of the audience and flapped generally and unrestrainedly. After the last curtain they flocked to the street. Ecstatic debutantes and “sub-debs” perched on fire escapes with bouquets and strings of ribbon, ready to shower their idol when she appeared. They shrieked and waved when she came around the corner At last, the automobile party forsook the rope and shot up Broadway at the head of a trailing procession of Gerry-flappers two blocks long.

There is nothing new under the sun.

Sunday, 25 October 2020

Night's decay

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night’s decay
Ushers in a drearier day.

- Emily Brontë

British Summer Time is officially over. Sob.

No light evenings from now until March...

Oh, the horror.

Wednesday, 21 October 2020

I couldn't have liked it more

Everyone with even a modicum of taste agrees that Noel Coward was one of the most talented entertainers this country ever produced - "The Master", indeed.

And so it was, a few weeks ago, that Madam Acarti and I were overjoyed to discover an free online revue [on a new service called stream.theatre] by way of a tribute to the man's life and work [apparently it would have been the centenary this year of his debut in London's West End, but who neds an excuse?], featuring an absolutely top-notch panoply of talented artists including such favourites as Sir Derek Jacobi, Dame Judi Dench, Stephen Fry, Alan Cumming, Dame Emma Thompson and Robert Lindsay, and several big names from British and American theatre including Kate Burton, Montego Glover, Cush Jumbo, Kristine Nielsen, Bebe Neuwirth, Julian Ovenden, Kate Royal, Giles Terera, Indira Varma, Josh James and Lia Williams.

The whole thing was, of course a major fundraiser by the Noël Coward Foundation on behalf of struggling players and workers whose income has been battered by the coronavirus pandemic that closed so many theatres and venues this year*.

Many and varied are the gems that this production includes - not least real-life married couple the gorgeous Julian and Kate singing A Room With A View (which was all the more poignant given the summer's lockdown), a beautiful rendition of If Love Were All by Mr Terera, real-life mother and son Lia and Josh acting a scene from The Vortex and Sir Derek's impish extracts from Noël's autobiographical The Boy Actor.

Speaking of mischief, Alan Cumming was a delight as ever with Me and the Girls, Robert Lindsay popping up here and there with witty Coward aphorisms provided a good linking thread, and Stephen Fry was the best choice of all to recite (rather than sing) the ultimate paean to a middle-aged widow's rediscovery of fun, courtesy of the mythical isle of Capri:

I'll sing you a song, it's not very long
It's moral may disconcert you
Of a mother and wife who for most of her life
Was famed for domestic virtue
She had two strapping daughters and a rather dull son
And a much duller husband who, at sixty-one
Elected to retire......and later on expire
Sing Halleluhua, heigh-nonny-no
Heigh-nonny-no, heigh-nonny-no
He joined the feathered choir

Having laid him to rest by special request
In a family mausoleum
As his widow repaired to the home they had shared
Her heart sang a gay TeDeum
And then in the middle of the funeral wake
While adding some liquor to the Tipsy Cake
She briskly cried "That's done,
My life's at last begun"
Sing Halleluhah, heigh-nonny-no
Heigh-nonny-no, heigh-nonny-no
"It's time I had some fun"
Today, though hardly a jolly day
At least has set me free
We'll all have a lovely holiday
On the Island of Capri

In a bar on the Piccola Marina
Life called to Mrs. Wentworth-Brewster
Fate beckoned her and introduced her
Into a rather queer, unfamiliar atmosphere
She'd just sit there, propping up the bar
Beside a fisherman who sang to a guitar
When accused of having gone too far
She merely cried "Funiculi, just fancy me, funicula"
When he bellowed "Que bella Signorina"
Sheer ecstasy at once produced a wild shriek
From Mrs. Wentworth-Brewster
Changing her whole demeanour
When both her daughters and her son said "Please come home, Mama"
She answered, rather bibulously "Who do you think you are?"
Nobody can afford to be so la-di-bloody-da
In a bar on the Piccola Marina

Every fisherman cried "Viva, viva and que ragazza
When she sat on the grand piazza
Everybody would rise
Every fisherman sighed "Viva, viva, que belle Inglese"
Someone even said "Whoops-a-daisy"
Which was quite a surprise

Each evening, with some light excuse and beaming with goodwill
She'd just slip into something loose and totter down the hill
To that bar on the Piccola Marina
Where love came to Mrs. Wentworth-Brewster
Hot flushes of delight suffused her
Right round the bend she went, picture her astonishment
Day in, day out, she would gad about
Because she felt she was no longer on the shelf
Night out, night in, knocking back the gin
She cried "Hurrah, Funiculi, funicula, funnic-yourself"

Just for fun, three young sailors from Messina
Bowed low to Mrs. Wentworth-Brewster
Said "Scusi", and abruptly goosed her
Then there was quite a scene
Her family in floods of tears cried "Leave these men, Mama"
She said, They,re just high-spirited, like all Italians are"
And most of them have a great deal more to offer than Papa
In a bar on the Piccola Marina!
However, quite rightly, the producers of this spectacular saved the very best till last...

...as none other than the iconic Dame Patricia Routledge was encouraged out of retirement and gave us the best interpretation of A Marvellous Party we have heard in a long while!

Our joy was further compounded when, a while after the broadcast had expired, I discovered that the entire thing is available on YouTube [not a publicly-searchable video, I might add].

And here, for your delectation, it is!

Utterly ravishing.

[*All donations gratefully received by Acting For Others (in the UK) and/or The Actors Fund (USA).]