“Hello!”
I looked into those mischievous, dancing eyes and instantly made a friend.
Karen and I met in a lift club when I was ten. I changed schools a few years later but I saw Karen often when I went to Durban for the Christmas holidays.

Karen was a person that was soaked in music. Her father was the founder of The Drakensberg Boys Choir. Karen’s love of music began when she sang her first songs, aged four, with the 20 pioneer boys who had joined the new choir school.

When she was 17, she was asked to train and conduct the school choir. I can just imagine the relish she felt brandishing the baton in her hand. Her passion came to the fore. She would not rest until the sound the choir produced was perfect. It was astonishing the marvellous melodies and harmonies she coaxed from the choir that year. The sound soared around the school hall. Karen smiled. She was happy.

Like myself, Karen became an actor.
I remember sharing a house with Tossie Van Tonder, the dancer. Tossie is a long, tall individual. At one time, she used to shave her head and looked uniquely wonderful. Karen got the female lead in a film, Playing With Fire, in which she was cast as a dancer. She used to come and work with Tossie in the studio. Karen was not a ‘dancer’ yet there was no way that she was going to let herself down. Once again, her passion expressed itself. She fervently rehearsed for a full month with Tossie, who was the film’s choreographer.

I was amazed to discover that I had a small role in Playing With Fire. As a result of my fall, this has been wiped from my memory. So I have no knowledge of the film’s success or failure. That is not the point I’m making. Karen’s inner passion kept on taking her to new places. These stretched her as an individual and pushed her on.

The first time we saw each other after my accident in 1989, was when she flew back from Paris to visit her family in the nineties. I was then living in Durban and Karen gave me this beautiful tea pot. It has a cat curled sleepily around it’s lid. It is too gorgeous to use, so it sits in my lounge. I often catch the cat’s eye and we smile at one another. In 1995, flush with the money I had been making with my show My Plunge to Fame, I booked an air ticket to various destinations around the world. One of them being Paris. I was keen to see Karen who had been living there for some time. She had been composing, singing and making CDs. She lived in a small flat and seemed happy. The two of us sat at a bistro, drank wine and attempted to catch up on our lives in that one meal. We laughed and spoke over each other in our excitement to get things out. When I left, two days later, Karen gave me these small salt and pepper shakers. They are two adorable cats dressed as chefs. They grin at me from my kitchen counter.

For the past few years, my friend, B and I go and spend three days of enchantment in the Cotswolds. We stay at Cassie Bassett’s (nee Holliday) second home, Hollybush Cottage. I have mentioned this idyllic place before in my blog. This, for me, is the most perfect place in the world. Three years ago, as was the norm, B and I invited a whole load of friends around for lunch. Karen, who was living in Bath, two hours away, came much to my delight. It had been years since we had seen each other and we relished being together again. Karen had moved from Paris to Bath because she had an autistic daughter. Apparently Bath offered a superb school for children with autism.
“This time next year,” I promised as we hugged goodbye.

The following year, I traveled to England at a later date, in August. When I phoned to tell Karen that this years ‘Hollybush’ was on, she said she had a problem.
“My daughter is on holiday. Would you mind very much if I bought Francesca along?”
I assured her that we looked forward to meeting her daughter. On the day of the luncheon, I received a very distressed call from Karen: “ Francesca woke me at three o’clock this morning, dressed in her school uniform. I explained to her that there was no school and got her back into bed. This morning, Gaye, she went into a complete meltdown. She was drumming her head against the wall whilst making this thin indecipherable sound. I am so sorry but we won’t be able to come today.”
We had a lovely lunch and Tammy (Bonell Garner) spent the night. B said to us: “I think that tomorrow, we should all go and visit Karen in Bath.” 

We arrived in Bath and I had barely moved my hand from the door knocker when the door was flung open by a grinning Karen: “You made it!” she cried as she engulfed us all in hugs.
“And you must be Francesca?” I said to this child who was staring at us with gorgeous big brown eyes.
Karen kneeled next to her and said: “These are my friends, Gaynor, Tammy and B,” she held her, whilst pointing us out. Francesca stared for a moment and then ducked out of her mum’s embrace and scooted to the other side of the room. She picked up a picture book and began turning the pages.  Her attention was clearly on us not the book. 
“She can’t speak so don’t expect any replies,” Karen explained.
We had a gorgeous lunch and I was once more struck by Karen’s passion. This time it wasn’t her music or acting that drew this wonderful characteristic to the fore. Karen’s passion was revealed in her relationship with her daughter. Her autistic daughter, who couldn’t speak a word, who sat watching her DVD of “The Little Mermaid” for the 140th time, drew a fervent love out of Karen. It was a different kind of passion to that she’d displayed in her acting and with her music. This was a totally all encompassing kind. It was the kind that I have never experienced. The passion of a mother for her daughter.
“See you at Hollybush next year,” I cried, waving as B drove away that evening.

That was the last thing I said to my friend of 47 years.
On the 20th May, 2019, Karen’s body was discovered at the foot of her staircase. All that passion she contained evaporated from our world. And yet the passion that she gave out so joyfully still remains in the people she touched and loved.

Karen was so young when she died. I think of my other friends – Gaby Lomberg, Gina Benjamin, Jil Hurst, Fiona Coyne, Frantz Dobrowsky and Chris Wells. All in their forties and fifties. Their lives cut short too early.

It makes me realise, especially in this time of Coronavirus crisis, you must make the most of every day. Be thankful for this gift of life. Keep in touch with your friends. See things around you with fresh eyes. Be kinder to others and to yourself.
Live each day with passion.

As Karen did.

The post My Passionate Friend! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.

Funny Girl.

I dipped with glee!
What an adventure I was about to have.
I was off to Cape Town to see Funny Girl!

At George Airport, the Cape Town flight was called and I joined the rest of the passengers to hand in my ticket. I felt this tap on my shoulder and turned to see a stunning woman standing before me.
“Gaynor, it is you! I couldn’t believe it when I saw you.”
I looked more closely at this woman and then she fell into place. I seemed to hear a voice from 28 years ago singing: ‘Life is sweet, tender and complete, when you find the bluebird of happiness……..The girl who’d played Cinderella in John Moss’s Christmas pantomime we’d put on at The Playhouse in Durban all those years ago – Julie Hartley!

“What seat are you in? I am 6C,” I asked
“16C. Miles apart.”
“Let’s wait and see. Maybe something can be arranged.”
The plane was half full and I had a spare seat next to me. We both hurled questions and answers at each other trying to catch up on twenty-eight years in a mere forty minutes.
Julie lived up the West Coast with the love of her life – her horses!
“The next time you are in Cape Town, please may I drive down and fetch you. I stay in an enchanting place. You will love my horses and dogs!”
I will definitely do that. I will go for a few days and take Perdita, my dachshund with me. Perhaps she will like the horses, I thought doubtfully, thinking of my  ‘I only love Gaynor’ dog.

The day of the show dawned!
I sat in a warm and cosy coffee shop. I was meeting my theatre friend of many years, Jenny Steyn. She came in and scanned the room. A wide smile lit her face as she came towards me. I love Jen. She is a person who speaks from the heart. When I had my fall and was hospitalised for seven weeks, Jen didn’t come and visit me. We were on the cusp of getting to know each other. So she didn’t feel that she could claim to know me and take up valuable hospital time. Now it’s a different case completely. Jenny has this natural joy that seems to emanate deep within her. When I worked as an actress, Jenny and I were often up for the same part. I considered us both containing an equal talent. How wrong I was. Recently I saw Jen perform in The Inconvenience of Wings. What a stark display of artistry and passion. Recently she played Nora in The Dolls House. She told me that the play had concluded with Nora walking through the audience and exiting the theatre. I love that! Her talent and grace seems to be fathomless.

On our way to the theatre, my sister, Liz said to me: “Tell me who is in Funny Girl that you know?”
“There’s Kate Normington who I approached about getting us complementary tickets to the show. Then Di Wilson.”
“Oh, I know Di. She’s been around to our house visiting you.”
“That’s right. And then there’s Michelle Maxwell. I did a show in Cape Town, I forget it’s name, but Mums and Dad came to see it. Mums said to me that in that show, for the first time ever, she didn’t recognise me as her daughter. She believed so totally in the character.”

What a beautiful theatre The Fugard is. It’s intimacy instantly transports you to a special place. We were shown to our seats in the third row! Glory be, not only comps but seated in a prime spot. We grinned at each other and settled back comfortably to enjoy the spectacle about to evolve before us. The musical tells the fascinating and bitter-sweet story of Fanny Brice whose vocal talents and comedic ability see her rise from a Brooklyn music hall singer to Broadway star. Intertwined is her tempestuous relationship with gambler Nick Arnstein. It was sumptuously designed and the dancing and singing were outstanding. But it was Ashleigh Harvey playing Fanny that stole the show.
“……Cause I’m the greatest star, I am by far, but no one knows it. Wait, they’re gonna hear voice, a silver flute…..”
I sat up and stared. This woman was incredible! She and the rest of the cast beckoned me into their world for the next two hours. I couldn’t help myself but as Ashleigh Harvey came forward to take her curtain call, I rose to my feet applauding.

After the show, I was meeting up with my old friends. I was nervous. I hadn’t seen Kate for about 13 years and Michelle even more. I had seen Di but that was years ago. I saw Di first. She gave me a warm hug and explained that she couldn’t stay. She had to get all the way home to Hout Bay. Then I saw Kate and my nerves vanished. She put her arms around me and we held each other for a long time. Michelle has this all embracing smile. When she had finished hugging me she said: “I have a present for you. I must see you before you go.”
Then I saw Ashleigh Harvey. Kate said: “Gaye, Ashleigh actually organised the tickets for you.”
“But…I don’t even know her,” I said to Kate.
“Ah, but I know you,” Ashleigh laughed coming straight up to me and giving me a hug. Pulling away but still holding me, she said: “I read and loved your book!”
I saw with astonishment that she was wearing a moon boot. I pointed at it questioningly.
“I fractured my foot in a dance class before I came down to Cape Town to start rehearsals. I have been in a moon boot all day for ten weeks but I take it off for my performances at night. I have had carbon plinths made for my show shoes so that my foot doesn’t move at all. Another few more days and then – goodbye boot!”
While Liz chatted to Kate, I re-found Michelle surrounded by friends at the bar.
“It is so good seeing you again. It’s been too long. I knew you were coming tonight and I….I wanted you to have this.”
She handed me a beautiful red and white dotted present bag. I put my hand in and drew out a mounted photograph of a much younger Michelle and Gaynor. The card said:

Dearest Gaynor
I found this photograph of us in Crossing the Line where I played your older sister. I had it copied as I think it’s sooo beautiful!
It was at the Baxter December 1989/90 (ish) and was directed by Mavis Taylor, (Colleen Craig, the author!)
Much love to you and blessings that we could see you tonight…….
Mich XX

I stared at the photograph in total delight. Mich’s timing was wrong. It had been in July, 1989. Here were the characters I had been telling Liz about in Crossing the Line. That was what the play was called! I had this image of me in khaki trousers and a t-shirt walking on stage. Then a blank. Since my fall, I have never been able to remember one instance of performing. Here was a ‘sense’ of the character I played and her relationship to her sister. I’m sure my name was Paula! I must check up with Michelle.

I give so much thanks for the love of a friend giving me back a touch of my past.

Kate and I arranged to meet for tea, a couple of days later. We hadn’t seen one another for about thirteen years, maybe more. The last show I had seen Kate perform in was as Eliza in My Fair Lady. Now I had just watched her play the lead’s mother. Time….!!!

And she had changed. We both had. While still possessing that sharp, humorous wit, she seemed to have grown gentler with age. We spoke of Funny Girl naturally and about the wonderful cast surrounding her. I mentioned laughing at a remark she made on Facebook about Michelle Maxwell getting on the piano and the two of them playing around with various numbers. She said: “Yes, but Gaynor do you remember Ian von Memerty, you and I found an empty rehearsal…”
“…room during Camelot rehearsals,” I finished. “Yes, that is one of the things that I remember clearly, Kate. We had a ball! Ian could do whatever number we came up with. We did numbers from Grease, My Fair Lady, Easter Parade, Sound of Music…”
“I sat on the piano stool as if I was playing the piano and singing and Ian crouched in between my legs with just his hand appearing on the keyboard. It was both magical and hysterical!”
I was so thrilled that that moment had been memorable for us both. It had broken through the mist surrounding my memory of Camelot and has remained sparkling like a much treasured gem all these years.
“And do you remember we found that wheelchair and we pushed each other harum scarum up and down those lovely, long corridors at The State Theatre?”
The wheelchair came skidding round a corner and into my memory.
“Oh yes,” I cried watching those two wild women acting like mad six year olds. That was a new memory that was magically conjured up for me that tea time. I will guard it jealously in my memory box.

Kate has been married for the last year. I am due up in Johannesburg in August. It will be wonderful to meet Kate’s husband during that time. I have also promised to see Ashleigh Harvey for lunch.

Finally, I met Shirley Johnston for dinner that night. She edited my book and is a very precious friend. She always finds time to see me when I’m in Cape Town. It somehow felt right finishing off my Cape Town visit having dinner with her. She had worked for five years with Ashleigh Harvey in Death of a Colonialist. I had heard Shirley speak of Ashleigh but hadn’t clicked that she was the star of the show that I’d just seen.
“That’s your Ashleigh? But…but Shirls, did you know she could sing like that?”
“I actually saw her in a cabaret. I remember tears just falling down my cheeks she was so moving.”

This is what those delectable four days in Cape Town gave me. A superlative show! But more than that. It gave me: Julie Hartley, Jenny Steyn, Diane Wilson, Ashleigh Harvey, Michelle Maxwell, Kate Normington and Shirley Johnston. My theatre friends, old and new. And, except for Shirley, I have lost touch with them. I go up to Johannesburg and down to Cape Town and I don’t contact them. I tend to think: Oh, they won’t want to be bothered by me!
This is garbage! Those four days proved that to me. Friends are special. Theatre friends are exceptionally unique. I am no longer able to act. But that is not important. I believe that once you have entered into that ‘theatre fraternity’ you are there for life.

Oh, how I love my ‘Funny Girls’!!!

The post My Funny Girls! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.

A long time ago in ’67
A little boy was roaming on the beach,
When all of a sudden he heard a plaintive cry,
So near yet so far out of reach.
He looked behind a rock so tall and there before his eyes
Was an oil soaked seagull lying there,
Windswept with pain in its eyes.
And the seagull’s name was Nelson,
Nelson who came from the sea,
And the seagull’s name was Nelson,
Nelson the seagull’s free.
He fed that seagull limpets small
Until that bird could fly
And when he thought it was so, he let lil’ Nelson go
And he flew above his head in the sky.
And the seagull’s name was Nelson
Nelson who came from the sea
And the seagull’s name was Nelson
Nelson the seagull’s free
The time did come for the boy to go
Sadness was in their eyes.
But it’s not for you to criticise
For you cannot see a seagull cry.
And the seagull’s name was Nelson
Nelson who came from the sea
And the seagull’s name was Nelson
Nelson the seagull’s free

In the 70’s most South Africans knew this song by Des and Dawn Lindberg. I remember as a teenager being most disgruntled when Mum switched off the record player and told me to get on with my homework. “I can work and listen!” I protested.
“That may be so, but I think hearing it for the thirty-sixth time, I am rapidly going off seagulls,” My mother retorted.
“I didn’t play it thirty-six times,” I muttered slinking off to my room.
As an actress, I remember going to an audition that Dawn was holding. I didn’t get the part but I liked Dawn and Des tremendously. As the years moved on we became friends. I had my accident in December 1989. My acting days came to an end but my days of being before an audience were far from vanquished! 1994 I opened in my one woman show My Plunge to Fame where I performed as Gaynor Young telling her story.
You cannot even begin to to imagine my nerves on opening night. This was something totally new to me. I was used to facing the audience as a character whom one is able to hide behind. That was no longer possible. I was confronting the audience head on – as me! I said the final words of my performance and there was a black out. The lights came back on and I took my bow. I looked out in sheer amazement as the audience got to their feet applauding. My family stood there, tears streaming down their cheeks clapping. My eyes swept over all my friends there that night. I can see them all so clearly. Des and Dawn were standing on the left of the auditorium towards the back. The lights went off and came back on. Dawn put her hands in the air and continued clapping with the rest of them…..
Every time the Lindbergs pass through George they make a point of seeing me. The last time, I commented on the beautiful turquoise earrings Dawn was wearing. Quick as a flash they were in my hand. “They will look better on you. They’ll match your eyes!”
About two years ago I was walking along the beach. Not on the sand, I can’t manage that. I was strolling with my dog on the walkway, enjoying the sights around me. Suddenly I heard, yes, due to my Cochlear Implants, I HEARD a familiar tune……
“And the seagulls name was Nelson,
Nelson who came from the sea….”
The man in front of me was whistling as he walked. Was he whistling…? Glory be, I had heard that correctly,hadn’t I? I caught up and stopped him. “You’re whistling The Seagulls name was Nelson, aren’t you?” The man nodded. “I haven’t heard that song for such a long time. I love it! Thank you for reminding me.”
He laughed. “With these gulls swooping around I think it’s appropriate!” He ambled off whistling.
“…..And the Seagull’s name was Nelson
Nelson the seagull is free”
This weekend the Lindberg’s are celebrating their 50th Wedding Anniversary. They will be singing all the well known songs from way back when! How sorry I am not to be able to make it. Yet I will fly with them when their seagull takes to the skies………
And the seagull’s name was Nelson
Nelson who came from the sea
And the seagull’s name was Nelson
Nelson the seagull’s free…….

*

***

Listen to Des & Dawn singing ‘And the seagulls name was Nelson by pressing here!

The post And the seagull’s name was……. appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.