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Aged 34. (Photo: Robert Roach) |
By Tony Magee
Childhood memories
As a small child I can clearly remember music filled days from both my Grandmothers. Mrs Eileen Boston of Wentworthville, Sydney had a large upright. I can’t remember the actual make, but it was likely a Beale, or possibly one of the European imports that flooded into Australia during the 20th century - a Rönisch, or a Richard Lipp.
Grandma had a favourite piece - the Norwegian Cradle Song - quite famous and part of the repertoire of many adult pianists of the day.
She played it beautifully, along with other repertoire.
I was always present in the room when she played, sometimes being allowed to stand next to her as she played.
One day, I was alone in that room, with strict instructions from my parents, “don’t touch anything”.
For a five year old boy, this translated into “go and explore and touch anything you want.”
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Me aged four, at Pennant Hills. |
Oops! I picked up an ornamental fox, dropped it and his tail broke off. Floods of tears from me sent my parents into the room and saw the result. Scolding followed, but this was quickly dissipated by my loving Grandma.
Her youngest son, my Uncle Phillip, who was only ten years older than I was, set about gluing the tail back on.
I still have Mr Fox and you can see the join where he was mended. One of my most treasured possessions.
Mrs Eileen Magee lived in North Parramatta. Her upright piano was a Symphony, purchased in 1950 and one of the major Australian made pianos of the day. The factory was in Crown Street, Sydney CBD.
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| My grandmothers: Mrs Eileen Boston (left), myself and Mrs Eileen Magee in 1983 |
My father, Stuart, said there was great excitement the day it was delivered.
Not only did Gran have a huge repertoire which I loved listening to, but I too was allowed to stand by and watch and listen to her play.
Then it it was my turn.
I played and played. Just pianistic nonsense of course, but to me as a five year old, I thought my random pieces sounded fabulous.
Both these experiences had a lasting impression on me and must have been the catalyst for me wanting to commence formal lessons aged nine, from my first piano teacher, Wilfrid Holland.
My first professional and regular performing gig! Aged 20
Mario's Theatre Restaurant was in Petrie Plaza, Canberra City. My friend David Boling took me there for a
drink one night in early 1980.
There was a white "Belling" grand piano. David asked the bar manager if it was okay if I played a few songs, which she said it was. I was reluctant at first but later agreed to play. Movie themes of the time, Elton John and a bit of classical.
A few days later, a couple came into Kent Hi-Fi to buy a video recorder (new technology and a big deal at the time). I served them.
The guy said to me "I know you from somewhere". Then his wife piped up, "Yes, I recognise you too".
I didn't know who they were, but I told them I was a piano player.
"Ah ha! - you played in our restaurant last Wednesday night! We wanted to catch you but you left! Would you like a job playing there regularly?"
The couple were Ton and Antoinette Van der Zandt - owners, in partnership with Nick and Joy van Zommeron.
And so my pro musical life unfolded from there...
CD launch at Kent Hi-Fi, Dec 1982.
WITH the death announced on May 17 2023 of Greek composer Vangelis, memories came flooding back to me of the launch in Canberra of the Compact Disc digital audio format in December 1982.
How many CD titles were available at that time? Just two! Billy Joel “52nd Street” and the “Chariots of Fire” movie soundtrack by Vangelis, for which he won the Academy Award for best original score in 1981, the main theme being performed by Liberace at the Oscars ceremony the following year.
My boss, owner and founder of Kent Hi-Fi Canberra, Rudi Langeveld, sensing that CD was going to take the world by storm and wanting to be fully prepared as a retailer, flew to Japan for the Tokyo launch a few months earlier in October.
Sony co-founder and president Akio Morita had secured the services of the famous Austrian conductor Herbert von Karajan as his star musical guest.
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Herbert von Karajan is captivated by Compact Disc. |
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Herbert von Karajan (centre) and Akio Morita (President of Sony, right) with the Philips CD prototype (left) and Sony prototype (right), 14th April 1981 in Salzburg |
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Sony President Akio Morita (left) and Herbert von Karajan at the joint Philips, Sony and Polygram CD Press Conference, Salzburg, April 14, 1981. |
With Karajan’s weight behind this new audio concept - digital audio combined with laser technology - Sony hoped to secure consumer confidence amongst the world’s music listening public, which they did.
Rudi brought back to Canberra a 110 volt Japanese model Sony player, plus the Vangelis and Billy Joel discs.
We then commenced after-hours demonstrations in the shop from December 1982, six months before the actual Australian release.
On opening night about half an hour before we opened the doors, I asked to Rudi, “Who’s doing the welcome address?”
“You are,” he said.
What? I was nervous! And so aged 22, I boldly walked out in front of the amassed crowd and said “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Kent Hi-Fi and the launch of Compact Disc!”
I held up the shiny new disc, all glittering and sparkling under the lights. People gasped.
Then I pressed the open button on the front of the Sony CDP-101 - the world’s first CD player - and the drawer slid out.
Hundreds of people surged forward.
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| Sony CDP-101, the world's first CD player. (Photo courtesy Stereo Life) |
As “Chariots of Fire” burst forth, we were able to switch between both the CD and the LP record equivalent, so that guests could hear what ever audio differences they were able to perceive.
Nothing like this format had ever been seen or heard before. Even the infrared remote control was a big deal at the time.
Rudi told the staff that he wanted people to be educated as much as possible about the concept so that when we would finally received our first shipment of the CDP-101, which was 6 months away, people would be ready to buy.
These after-hours demonstrations for the general public continued through January and February of 1983.
Then in May, Rudi teamed up with Ross Gengos, owner of Abels Music Canberra, who had just received his first shipment of the Philips player, the CD-200.
Together, they hired Recital Room 3 (now the Larry Sitsky Recital Room) at the Canberra School of Music and put on a show.
People could wander in and out over a weekend period and hear the new CD players, through a range of different loudspeakers, amplifiers and cabling.
It was also an opportunity for Ross to demonstrate a new range of loudspeakers from Audiosphere, manufactured in a small factory at Gundaroo by locals Michael Brown and David Jones.
Using hollow concrete spheres of various sizes as the acoustic enclosure, and full range drivers from Coral, the Audiosphere speakers were highly successful and there are many still in use today.
The factory later moved to Gunning where it still is, and still under the directorship of Michael Brown, now under the brand name, Sophera.
As for the original Sony CD player? Well, I still have one, which I purchased brand new in 1984 while a student.
Its 16 bit, single DAC technology has been updated by various manufacturers many times but the simple truth is this: there’s very little perceptible audio difference between that first Sony deck and today’s models.
Canberra Audio Society demo, Dec 1982
The Canberra Audio Society contacted Rudi at Kent Hi-Fi, in early 1983 and asked if they could have a private demonstration of compact disc at one of their meetings, to which Rudi agreed.
Myself and one other staff member (also named Tony) went along with the player and found about 20 guys, all audio enthusiasts, in a lounge room ready to listen and either be amazed or tear it to shreds. Pitched against our Sony deck was a Sota Sapphire turntable with a comparable arm and cartridge - perhaps a pinnacle of analogue LP record playback equipment of the time and probably still is. The contest was on and the room fell silent as we compared the Chariots of Fire soundtrack on both LP and CD.
The person in charge of switching machines and adjusting volume etc did so on multiple occasions and each time the function switch was changed, various cries of delight or scorn could be heard. The volume was turned down and then up again at each change.
Then, later in the evening, a change was initiated once again, or so we thought, with people saying "oh yes, the highs are very clinical on the CD", or "greater depth of bass there" and a myriad of other audio observations, when the operator suddenly announced that he hadn't changed anything and that both previous times it had been the CD.
Pandemonium erupted, as many people suddenly felt cheated and betrayed - their golden ears had failed them! I really thought things were going to turn violent, so we packed up our Sony CDP-101 and bid them all adieu.
As it turns out, things are coming into full circle 36 years later and vinyl has made a triumphant return. I gain enormous pleasure from spinning records, and now it’s only occasionally that my my hand reaches for a CD.
BTW, that first Sony machine retailed for AU$1,300 in 1983. Oh, and the world’s first commercially available CD was Billy Joel 52nd Street!
Dionne Warwick and Joe Kloess
American pianist Joe Kloess came to Canberra as MD for Dionne Warwick and the occasion presented me with a brilliant double-whammy which I will always remember.
I’d formed a duo with my talented friend and singer, Ra Khahn (now Ra Wilson and living in Madrid with his second wife, Cindy). Just piano and voice and it worked wonderfully and we connected musically with an almost telepathic sense.
We were booked as the support act for Dionne’s concert in Canberra at the Royal Theatre as part of her 1995 Australian tour.
At the sound check, we arrived and Dionne and the band were still on stage finishing theirs. Watching and listening to the nuances and exact needs that she and her musicians insisted on was wonderful and as always, when seeing great artists in a “behind-the-scenes” setting, Ra and I absorbed all kinds of useful tips and ideas on honing our own performing skills. Finally it was our turn for sound check and we took our place on stage and ran through some of our numbers, setting fold-back levels and the like.
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Ra Wilson (nee Khahn) |
When we’d finished I noticed a huge pile of charts sitting on the floor next to the piano – they were Dionne’s piano charts. I couldn’t help myself and took a peek. At the top of the first chart it read: ‘Do You Know the Way to San Jose. Words and music by Burt Bacharach, arranged by Joe Kloess’. I nearly fell off the piano stool. Joe Kloess was a piano idol of mine. I first heard him when he played for Jack Jones on a 1970 recording from the Sands Hotel in Las Vegas – a legendary album and one of my favourites of Jack’s. Was Joe Kloess here in Canberra as Musical Director for Dionne Warwick? I looked around – was he nearby somewhere?
Noone appeared and I was clearly alone. I’d loved to have met him.
Ra and I received a very warm and supportive reception from the capacity audience.
Dionne’s show was great and we both received a personally signed photo from her.
Albert Collins
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Albert Collins. (Photo Getty Images) |
American blues guitarist and singer Albert Collins came to Canberra in May 1993 with his band and were booked into the Canberra Theatre. Publicist and ticketing agent Coralie Wood called me and said she had two tickets for me if I was interested. Well, I’d never heard of Albert Collins, but the tickets were free and I went along with a friend. The “blues” was a musical genre that I was familiar with but not a player of. Albert and his band were sensational. As part of the concert, he came down into the audience in the side isles and invited aspiring young guitarists to play blues licks on his own guitar whilst he provided backing chords on another guitar. The audience loved it and the young guitarists who had the opportunity to do this were thrilled, motivated and exhilarated. Albert seemed genuinely fascinated and satisfied that these young musicians were able to be included in and inspired by the experience.
After the show, we were invited into his dressing room for beers and a chat. Albert was in fine form and pronounced that he “gotta see a kangaroo before I go back to Vegas”.
Going in search of Kangaroos, with Albert and his minder in my Triumph 2500S could well have been a possibility. I’d loved to have offered but decided not to.
The bushland along Hindmarsh Drive near the Reservoir would almost certainly have been a possibility.
Also, Long Gully Lane would be a sure bet.
Driving home, three kangaroos hopped out in front of the car outside the Hyatt on Commonwealth Avenue and sat there in the middle of the road.
We were so close!
Tragically, six months later in November 1993, Albert Collins died from cancer at his home in Las Vegas.
Whoopi Goldberg
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Whoopi Goldberg and Parick Swayze in ‘Ghost’. (Photo: Paramount / Everett Collection) |
My meeting with Whoopi Goldberg was brief but sincere. In 1989 and 1990 I was playing cocktail piano several nights a week at Hotel Canberra (operated by Hyatt) which had just reopened after many years of lying dormant. In times gone by, Hotel Canberra had been the premier place to stay, having opened in the 1920’s and serviced dignitaries, politicians and the well-to-do for decades. As time marched on, it became somewhat old-fashioned and dilapidated and during the 1970’s it closed as a hotel and was used as a parliamentary annex, along with the nearby Hotel Kurrajong. Later, both hotels were abandoned and left empty.
The Japanese hotel giant, Hyatt, purchased Hotel Canberra in the late 1980’s and extensively refurbished and extended it into a beautiful and world-class establishment, which it still is. Hotel Kurrajong also re-opened as a training hotel for the hospitality industry.
At the Hyatt, I played for guests as they wined and dined in the Oak Room Restaurant, which was billed as one of Australia’s finest eating establishments. One could certainly run up a sizable bill there. One evening, I overheard the staff discussing the fact that four men had clocked up a bill of just over $7,000 in one sitting. I don’t know how they did it, but I imagine that on top of the meal itself, it was a combination of the finest wines, cognacs, ports, cheeses and whatever else was available.
Many celebrities stayed there, whilst they were in town for performances and engagements.
One night, I was in the middle of playing Tea for Two in a kind of stride version that I had worked out. I was flying over the keys, somewhat trying to emulate Eddy Duchin, who was a piano player of yesteryear that I greatly admired.
I was aware of a presence next to the piano but could not look up, due to the severity of the notes I was playing – my full concentration was on the keys!
Then a voice rang out loud and clear and it was unmistakable: “hey man – that’s really cookin!”
I looked up, faltered and stopped playing. It was Whoopi Goldberg.
Silently I sat there. Whoopi broke the silence and continued: “well, I just wanted to say that I like what your doin’ man – it’s nice and I hope you’ll be playin’ more for us tonight!”
“Thank you Miss Goldberg – I will! Glad you liked the tune!”
Jeanne Little
I was to have several memorable encounters with the queen of flamboyance, Jeanne Little, during the 1990’s.
I first met her in an unlikely setting. Gery Scott had been booked to perform her Cole Porter show, “Particularly Porter”, at the Old Goulburn Brewery, which a retired catholic priest had turned into a cabaret venue. Bill Stephens was handling the bookings for him and he was luxuriating in having all these wonderful shows come to his venue. This was around 1994. I was booked to play piano for Gery and we hired Tony Hayes on bass.
One evening after the show, I was packing up the music and getting ready to drive back to Canberra when an unmistakable voice pierced through the murmur of post-show wind-down: “Darrrrhhhhhhhling! That was wuuuuuuuuunderful!” I swung round and there she was, with husband Barry, standing at the foot of the stage.
“Jeanne Little! Wow! Thanks for coming to the show! Gery will be chuffed!
“Well darrrrhhhhhhling – we drove down speeeeeeeeeecially from Sydney. And darrrrhhhhhhhling, I want you to meet my husband Baaaaaaarry!”
“Hello sir – very pleased to meet you!”
“Now darhhhhhhhhhling, is there somewhere we can sit – we need to chat!”
Her hands were flapping madly as I motioned toward a table and we sat down.
Barry took over: “Tony, Jeanne and I are writing a cabaret show – it’s to be an autobiographical type thing with lots of musical segments along the way. We want to tour it nationally and we need a pianist. Wondering whether you’d be interested?”
I was flattered naturally. I’d have to think this one over. A lovely offer it was. My initial reaction was that I would probably need to move to Sydney. Did I want to do that? I thanked them and took their contact details and promised them a reply within the week. Gery then appeared from the dressing room and greeted Jeanne with great delight.
“And you came all the way from Sydney to see my Cole Porter show! You are sweet – thank you darling!”
Jeanne, sensing the delicacy of the situation replied: “Oh Gery – we’ve heard so much about you – we just had to come and see your show. You were wonderful. The show is gooooooorrrrrrrgeous!”
Well, the show was indeed extremely good, so regardless of what motivated Jeanne and Barry to come and see it, I’m sure Jeanne’s sentiment was indeed truthful.
But travelling home to Canberra in the car that night with Gery, there was a distinct atmosphere of displeasure:
“You’re not thinking of playing for her are you?” suddenly boomed forth.
As it turned out, I declined Jeanne and Barry’s offer and thanked them very much for thinking of me. It would have meant moving away and also closing the agency and I didn’t want to do that. For the first time, being a booking agent and trying to retain a performing career had clashed and the experience left me somewhat bewildered as to what my real role in life should be.
The following year, 1995, I attended the opening night of Jeanne’s cabaret show at Queanbeyan’s School of Arts Café, which the Stephen’s family ran. Colin Salter played piano for Jeanne and he was excellent. Most of the show was indeed autobiographical, spiced with songs and ditties along the way and then, out of the blue, she performed a three song tribute to Marlene Dietrich, in character.
I thought it was the highlight of the show and the only moment in which Jeanne attempted to be someone else. Her voice suddenly deepened and her demeanour, presence and whole personality virtually became that of Dietrich. She was captivating.
Some of you reading this might find it hard to imagine Jeanne Little being sophisticated and projecting the ambience and majesty of a great German film star and cabaret performer. Jeanne was after all recognised primarily as a whacky daytime talk-show guest with outrageous costumes and a raucous voice, delivering fast one-liners and quips – a sort of Australian version of Phyllis Diller. But she portrayed Marlene Dietrich in a way that was quite astonishing.
After the show, she emerged from the dressing room and spotted me and came over and said “Darhhhhling Tony – now it’s my turn to thank you for coming to see my show!”
I expressed my enthusiasm for it in no uncertain terms and then Barry joined us and asked straight away: “What did you think?”.
Well, I told them I had enjoyed the show immensely, and that the highlight for me was the Dietrich segment. I said I felt that Jeanne should perform a show entirely based on the life of Marlene Dietrich, in cabaret form, and that it was something that could be toured both nationally and internationally.
By now, others had overheard our conversation – many of whom were other cabaret performers – and our group of conversation contributors and listeners had swelled considerably. One person, whose name I shall not mention because I do not wish to offend or hurt anyone’s feelings, said that my idea was bad and that such a venture would be a failure. That person was wrong.
The following year, Jeanne and Barry wrote a cabaret show with Jeanne starring as Marlene Dietrich and it was a huge success, both critically and at the box-office.
I loved meeting Jeanne and Barry Little over those years. She once told me something that was her secret to looking younger in publicity photos. It was so simple, took years off her features and was applied just seconds before the photo was to be taken. It wasn’t makeup, or any kind of lotion or potion. But it’s her secret, and now mine too. It has to remain so. When I’m older and I need it, I may use it too.
George Lazenby (My name’s Bond, James Bond)
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Georgina Brennan, Mrs Sheila Joan Lazenby, George Lazenby (007), Helen Thompson, Tony Magee |
From 1998 to 2003, I was the event producer for the arts fundraising organisation, CAPO (Capital Arts Patrons Organisation), and President from 2000 to 2003. In 1999 the theme for our annual fund-raising ball was “Diamonds Are Forever” – a James Bond event at the National Gallery of Australia. I decided it would be good to have some celebrity presence, so I contacted Mrs Sheila Joan Lazenby, who lived in nearby Queanbeyan. She was the mother of Australia’s very own 007, George Lazenby, who famously played James Bond in the 1969 movie On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, opposite his costar Diana Rigg.
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Diana Rigg and George Lazenby on the set of On Her Majesty’s Secret Service 1969 (Photo Public Domain) |
My intention was to ask Mrs Lazenby if she would be prepared to attend the ball as our special celebrity guest. She was very welcoming of my call, but left me somewhat stunned when she said “I’ll only attend if George attends as well”.
“But doesn’t he live in Los Angeles?” I queried.
“He does, but I’ll give you his number and you just give him a call and tell him that I said he has to be there”
“Umm – okay! I’ll call him”
So I called the number and a huge drawling American accent answered the phone (he’d lived there since 1977).
I spluttered forth, said who I was and the reason for the call and explained everything and George just simply said “It sounds great. You provide the airfare and I’ll be there.”
And that was it. I booked him onto United Airlines and a couple of months later, when the ball was on, he was here!
Richard Rolfe got to hear about his upcoming arrival and contacted me and said he was a huge James Bond fan and had some 007 number plates and would I like to have those attached to a Holden Calais that he would organised for George during his stay in Canberra. Naturally, I said Yes!
So, Richard and I went out to Canberra airport, with the Calais, plated 007, to pick up George Lazenby. When he saw the car with the plates he stopped in his tracks and said “Oh my – you guys are too much!”
On the night of the ball, I’d also managed to hire a silver Aston Martin DB5 from the Aston Martin club in Canberra - the same model George drove in his Bond movie - and we were given special permission to park it on the walkway that joins the National Museum with the National Gallery. The press went berserk with truckloads of photographs of George in the car, standing next to the car etc.
The ball was a huge success and George even sat in with my band on guitar (he’s actually a very fine guitarist) on a couple of numbers.
During the formalities, I interviewed George on the stage and he revealed something very sad to the entire audience. The room was in complete silence. About ten years previously, his 18 year old son had developed constant headaches, nausea and other worrying symptoms. Countless doctors, tests and other medical procedures had revealed nothing. It was a mystery.
George, being good friends with American actress Shirley MacLaine, mentioned it to her and she immediately stepped in and visited them and looked at the boy and put her hand on his forehead and then turned to George and said “brain tumour”.
More tests were done and a brain tumour was confirmed by the doctors.
The boy died 6 months later, having just turned 19.
Liberace
Liberace toured Australia six times during his career. The first was in 1956 and the final one was in 1984 at the Hilton Hotel in George Street, Sydney. His Boogie Woogie routine, a Gershwin medley and a long and amazing audience request segment were central to any Liberace performance, not to mention the costumes and the rings.
Sadly, I never got to meet him, but I have most of his albums on vinyl and CD.
But, for my 50th birthday as a special surprise, my sister Alannah and her partner Treena purchased, from the Liberace Museum in Las Vegas, the replica Liberace watch, resplendent in Austrian Rhinestones and a working timepiece inside, plus the amazing and enormous blue amethyst ring.
I wear them occasionally if I’m off to a special event, party, dinner or the like.
Liberace is included in two other chapters in this book. Read on and you will see!
Prunella Scales
Prunella Scales famously and brilliantly played Sybil Fawlty in John Cleese and Connie Booth’s wonderful 12 part television comedy series, Fawlty Towers.
In 2003, Prunella toured Australia in a one woman show entitled “An Evening with Queen Victoria”, which also featured English tenor Ian Partridge singing songs written by Queen Victoria’s husband Prince Albert. It was fantastic.
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| Prunella Scales as Queen Victoria. (Photo courtesy BBC) |
I got to meet them both after the show and she said something slightly odd to me: “I went for a walk this afternoon and went into a large shopping mall just across the road from the Playhouse Theatre here.”
“Ahh – that would be The Canberra Centre,” I said.
“I don’t know what it was called, but there were a great number of large posters advertising an upcoming theatre restaurant season of Fawlty Towers somewhere here in Canberra”
“Oh yes, I’ve seen those posters. It’s a local amateur production directed by Jasan Savage.”
“Well, nobody asked me!”
She cordially signed my DVD boxed set of Fawlty Towers and disappeared back into her dressing room. Ian Partridge signed an LP record of mine featuring him and tenor Nigel Rogers
Driving home, I thought to myself, “Actually Ms Scales, nobody needed to!”
The Crown Prince of Spain
I played for the Crown Prince of Spain in 1990 at a function for the Spanish and Diplomatic community in Canberra at the Hyatt Hotel.
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Prince Felipe, Crown Prince of Spain in 1989, aged 21.
As of June 19, 2014, he is now Felipe VI, King of Spain, having succeeded his father, Juan Carlos 1, who abdicated.
When I arrived at the venue, the staff, chefs, management and myself were all beside ourselves
with excitement that we were all about to be of service to such a luminary. He was 22, stunningly good looking and single.
The management mentioned that any Spanish music I could include would be appreciated.
Luckily, when I was studying with my second piano teacher, Lillian Tan, I learned some Spanish dances by Granados, plus I had Malaguena and La Paloma in my repertoire and a few other pieces of the right genre. The rest of it (a three hour engagement) was going to be Cole Porter, The Gershwin brothers and other “American Songbook” repertoire. But it was fine. A multicultural event.
When I played Granados’ Spanish Dance No. 5, a large group of Spanish ladies came over and flocked around the piano. I had to play it twice!
Alas, I didn’t get to meet Crown Prince Felipe, but I watched him as I played, wandering around the room with a follow spot everywhere he went, surrounded by crowds of adoring and loyal admirers.
Benjamin Britten’s War Requiem performance in Canberra
In Canberra in 1988, celebrating International Year of Peace, a performance of Benjamin Britten’s War Requiem took place, produced by the ANU Opera Workshop at Llewellyn Hall.
Singing in the tenor section of the massed adult choir, it was one of the highlights of my career in music.
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| David Parker & Marie van Hove |
"COMPOSED in the nuclear age, but drawing on the words of a great poet and tragic victim of the First World War, Wilfred Owen, and the powerful ancient Latin text of the Requiem Mass, Benjamin Britten’s ‘War Requiem’ is a heartfelt denunciation of the horror or war.
"WARMEST greetings to everyone gathered in Canberra for a world peace concert sponsored by the Returned Services League, the Canberra School of Music and the Australian War Memorial.
"ON BEFALF of the Chinese government and people, I wish to extend my warm congratulations to the Australian “World Peace Concert” in Canberra. I would also like to take this opportunity to offer my sincere greetings to the Australian people.
" I SEND my greetings and good wishes for the success of the World Peace Concert in Canberra. I am much looking forward to my forthcoming visit to Australia.
"THE War Requiem which we are about to hear portrays a British and a German soldier lamenting the futility of a civil war in Europe - one of many which tore our continent apart - and some of which plunged the world into chaos.
"I APPLAUD your international appeal for peace through the performance of Benjamin Britten’s War Requiem in Canberra. |
| Program cover design by Vera Sell Ryazanoff |
I reproduce the sequence of events of the evening from the program notes as printed:
ORDER OF CEREMONY
Master of Ceremonies, Sir William Keys, AC, OBE, MC, welcomes His Excellency, Sir Ninian Stephen, the Governor-General of Australia, the Honourable Robert J. Hawke, AC, MHR, Prime Minister of Australia, and the Heads of Mission and invites them to address the audience in the following order:
The Hon. Robert J. L. Hawke, AC, MHR [Australia]
His Excellency, Dr E. M. Samoteikin [USSR]
His Excellency Mr L. William Jane Jr [USA]
His Excellency Mr Zhang Zai [People’s Republic of China]
His Excellency Mr A. John Coles [United Kingdom]
His Excellency Mr Ove Juul Jorgensen [Commission of the European Communities]
Mrs Thelma O’Con-Solorzano [U.N.O.]
Performance of WAR REQUIEM by Benjamin Britten
After the performance, Sir William Keys will introduce the Governor-General who will speak.
Llewellyn Hall was packed to capacity - 1,400 seats in those days. In addition, the entire event was recorded by the ABC and broadcast on Classic FM the following week.
Canberra Times journalist Stephanie Green was there and reviewed the concert, published in Monday’s paper, 18th July 1988. I reproduce below:
WORLD PEACE CONCERT
War Requiem (Op. 66) by Benjamin Britten
by Stephanie Green
July 18, 1988, reprinted July 30, 2024
"BENJAMIN BRITTEN’S War Requiem (Op. 66) is an extraordinary work, reflecting on the tragedy of two major European wars and sounding a warning for the future. In counterposing Wilfred Owen’s war poems with the more stylised Latin liturgy of the Mass for the Dead, Britten created a haunting musical statement on the futility of war.
"The performance of Britten’s War Requiem in Llewellyn Hall on Saturday night was billed as a “World Peace Concert”. Prior to the performance a number of dignitaries spoke briefly, introduced by Sir William Keys. The Prime Minister, Mr Hawke, began the speeches by saying peace was one of the most important issues concerning humankind. He was followed by the American, Soviet and Chinese ambassadors, the British High Commissioner and representatives from the UN and European Communities, while the audience waited patiently to hear the music.
"When it began, the opening bells of the Kyrie and the brooding phrases of the Des Irae spoke sincerely and potently for the cause of peace. Sir Ninian Stephen, the Governor-General, spoke after the performance and read an apt passage from the poetry of Siegfried Sassoon, who was a contemporary of Owen’s.
"The requiem operates on three levels. The liturgy is sung by massed choir with solo soprano, observing the ritual of mourning. The poems of Wilfred Owen, written in the trenches of World War I, are sung by two soldiers on the sides of opposing forces, accompanied by a small chamber orchestra. These solos convey the gruelling realities of the battlefield and contrast with the transcendent voices of the boy’s choir. The War Requiem’s tolling bells and recurring motifs are a reminder of what has to be done. The sad beauty of its final passages achieve a sense of peace in death, yet seeking peace in life.
"Owen’s words provide us with a palpable sense of the private, human tragedy of war.
"Move him unto the sun, Gently his touch awoke him once … if anything might rouse him now, the kind old sun will know.
"David Parker sang the tenor role with Geoffrey Manning as the baritone. Marilyn Richardson sang solo soprano with the strong lyrical purity that is essential to Britten’s music. The large ensemble required for this piece was conducted by Marie Van Hove, who sustained the pace and turbulence of the music while effectively drawing out the more pensive moments with her baton.
"The Canberra School of Music achieved an organisational feat in presenting this world peace concert. The requiem was well attended by the public, and it is to be hoped that the support and concern shown for issues of world peace are affirmed in action as they were in words and music."
- Stephanie Green
The event was a palpable example of art and politics uniting, triumphing over war, hatred, racism, discrimination and intolerance.
Lakeside Hotel, Pam and Graham Hodges, with David Wharton
In 1982 I secured a job as house pianist at The Burley Griffin Restaurant, on the 15th floor of the then Lakeside Hotel (now The QT).
Monday and Tuesday evenings were my nights.
From Wednesday to Saturday a music duo who also coordinated the entire live music program at the hotel, played.
Graham Hodges played drums and his wife Pam played Organ. They were a class act.
Pam had heard me one day when I was in a piano shop, testing out a Yamaha G2 grand piano.
She told me later on, “Tony, you played an E flat arpeggio in a full Liberace style florish from bass to treble, and I knew straight away that you had the goods. I selected you as the Lakeside pianist just from that one moment.”
Occasionally they asked me to join them, so we became a trio.
That was my first experience playing in a band setting. I’d never played with a drummer before. Keeping time was the challenge, but I warmed to it quickly.
Pam and Graham were fond of entertaining at their home in Canberra and it became a sort of musical Mecca with frequent lunch events and BBQs and I was frequently there as a guest along with many other Canberra musicians.
Jazz pianist Alex Powell pulled me aside one day and quietly told me “Tony, you’re way overplaying. Keep it simple and more relaxed.”
I was grateful for that advice.
I remained in the job for several years.
The maître d' was David Wharton - a very well-to-do British man who particularly loved welcoming ambassadors to the venue. It was Canberra’s top place to dine.
“Good evening your excellency” was always the greeting. He loved it.
David ran the place like clockwork.
The chefs were outstanding.
David and I would always sit down together for our meal when I was on a break.
He had no hesitation in ordering delicacies like pheasant or fillet steak.
That, combined with my Friday and Saturday nights at Marios meant that I was playing four nights a week, which combined with being a full time student at the Canberra School of Music and The university of Canberra was a very busy schedule and on reflection, too much to realistically handle.
I started suffering panic attacks occasionally, which was the beginning of what became a range of severe mental health disorders which came and went. I still have those afflictions today: anxiety, panic disorder, agoraphobia, depression and Bi-polar II.
They are mostly treated with several different medications, some of which have the dreaded “side effects”, one of which is loss of left and right hand coordination. I’m mostly okay but as I write this in 2024, my professional piano performance days are over.
Working for Murrays and The City of Canberra Cruising Restaurant
My agent and publicist Coralie Wood contacted me in late 1982 and mentioned that Ron Murray, CEO of Murray’s Coaches was having an old ferry completely restored and fitted out as a luxury cruising restaurant which would include a piano. Would I like the job of being ship’s pianist! You bet!
It would involve four nights a week, plus sometimes private functions, particularly wedding receptions on board as lunch cruises.
I’d decided to finish up at Marios and The Lakeside and that became my new job.
Uni went on hold - I deferred for two years.
The piano was a very small little upright sitting on a tiny stage.
Average at best.
On collecting my pay-check one day up at the headquarters on Mugga Lane, he spied me and asked me into his office for a chat.
He asked me my opinion of the piano. I hesitated at saying anything at first., then he added “tell me your honest opinion”.
“Well, it’s pretty average Ron - not really a great instrument and not satisfying to play.” I said
“What can we do?” he asked?
“Ron, if we removed the small stage (and the piano), there’d be room for a baby grand.”
Ron loved that idea.
“Go down to the piano shop and choose something decent and let me know the price and we’ll go from there.” he said.
And so I choose a Yamaha G1 baby grand. The shop gave us a great deal on price and bingo - it was purchased and delivered.
Ron and Gwen Murray came on board as guests a couple of nights later.
He said to me during the evening that he never realised there could be so much different in sound from one piano to another. He was delighted with the result, as was I.
“This adds a significant amount of prestige to our cruising restaurant. Thank you Tony for selecting such an impressive instrument.” said Ron.
I was to remain in that job for 5 years. The staff all got on really well and we all loved working for Ron Murray.
There were three alarming events which took place over the five years.
On one occasion, a massive storm erupted from no-where and a strong squall hit the ship side on and almost caused her to capsize. Frighting to say the least.
On another occasion we were rammed side on by the other lake ferry, The Lady Clare. The skipper of that boat had been hiding the fact that his vision was impaired, particularly at night. The Lady Clare collided with the City of Canberra straight into a metal strut between two windows. The damage was actually negligible. If it had actually hit the window, that would have been quite catastrophic. Either the bar would have been demolished or customers at a table would have been injured, possibly seriously.
On a third occasion, one of the deck hands was changing over the gas bottles at the stern of the ship in preparation for a lunch cruise. Astonishingly, he had a lit cigarette in his mouth and a spark from that ignited one of the gas bottles. The explosion blew him into the water and the back of the ship was badly damaged by the resulting fire.
Luckily, Patrick, though shaken, was not injured.
Bogarts.
Bogarts was a jazz and showbiz restaurant and nightclub in the city. Myself and other friends from the Halls of Residence at The University of Canberra (UC) discovered it by chance one evening in mid 1980.
Mr and Mrs Brown were the owners and lavished fine dining and service upon their guests.
The executive chef was a bit precious and insisted that on the menu the phrase “well done steaks will not be catered for.”
Inevitably, a customer took issue with that one night and a huge ruckus ensued. The Browns backed down and ordered the chef to cook the steak to his liking.
As students we couldn’t afford to actually eat the a la carte menu, but late at night, about 10.30 pm, one could order a cheese platter and other snacks, which we did. It was very classy and we felt like like royalty as guests there.
The live jazz consisted of singers Sally Sallis and Gery Scott, They would alternate on different evenings, usually Wednesday to Saturday, backed by either the Alex Powell Trio or Sterling Primmer and his band. Both excellent jazz pianists.
Sally and Gery were quite different stylistically but both wonderful to listen to and we frequently danced to their music which was so wonderful, refined and polished, but still with that easy-going feel and rapport.
Seven years later in 1987, I was the meet Gery Scott personally for the first time, not long after she was appointed head of vocal jazz at the Canberra School of Music.
Gery’s career prior to that was international, spanning 26 countries and over 40 years (at the time) in showbiz. Her story is amazing, so I’m saving that for a separate chapter in this book.
Ian Croker
Born and raised in Goulburn, Ian Croker first learned to “tread the boards” in high school, closely followed on a more serious level with the local Goulburn lieder society, headed up by British acting royalty, John and Mary Spicer.
Not dissimilar to Googie Withers and John McCallum, John and Mary had so much acting knowledge to impart and Ian soaked it all up like a sponge.
He quickly became a very polished and refined actor in his own right and started making trips to Canberra to audition for our own acting scene, with The Canberra Repertory Society of which he was a stalwart, and also in music theatre for Canberra Philharmonic and other production companies.
Ian and I first met when Bill Stephens cast us both together along with Judy Burnett and Rosemary Hyde in a Christmas variety show at his School of Arts Cafe in Queanbeyan in 1992.
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| Ian Croker (left) with Tony Magee in 2012. (Photo: Chris Davis) |
Prior to that I had seen him on stage as Noel Coward it Noel and Gertie also starring Kate Peters as Gertrude Lawrence.
My guest that night was Gery Scott. It was the first time for both of us seeing Ian Croker in action.
After he had finished “Don’t Put Your Daughter on the Stage Mrs Worthington”, Gery turned to me and said, “That young man is outstanding.”
I didn’t know it at the time, but Gery was a world authority on the music of Noel Coward, both in knowledge and as a performer. Several years later, Gery and I would perform a cabaret show of his music entitled “Gery Scott sings Mostly Coward”, the “mostly” part allowed for the inclusion of a bracket each from his contemporaries Cole Porter and Ivor Novello.
From Shakespeare to major leading roles in musicals and everything in between, Ian has practically done it all.
As my booking agency started to take off, I was casting for countless corporate themed events and Ian along with many other Canberra actors and musicians were involved in my scores of themed events for corporate clients.
Was it fun? Absolutely it was, combined with a massive amount of thought and preparation and serious hard work to make these events truely successful and memorable.
Ian’s prowess and talent on stage is of an international class and as I write this book, he’s been wowing audiences for almost 50 years.
Off stage, he is also responsible for the design and production of countless sets.
A theatrical polymath, we look forward to Ian’s return to the stage, after a brief period of semi-retirement.
Abel’s - Ross and Robin Gengos
During my last two years of Uni in 1985 and 1986 I worked part time at Canberra’s famous classical music and jazz specialty record shop, Abels Music in Manuka.
Owners Ross and Robin Gengos were wonderful to work for and looked after all the staff really well.
One very exciting phase of my time there, was the transition from it being an LP record store to a CD shop.
It was about 1986 that the major labels (EMI, Philips, Deutche Gramophone, Decca and CBS) and the boutique labels, started dumping large quantities of records to make way for the eventual domination of CD’s.
Massive stocks arrived at Abels at vastly reduced wholesale prices, savings that we were able to pass onto our customers.
Starting one weekend and continuing over several weeks, Ross and Robin organised a massive sale, where classical records featuring all the top artists and jazz as well were discounted by about 70%.
With extensive advertising in The Canberra Times, people flocked there and the opening weekend was overwhelming. Many hundreds of customers rolled through the doors, snapping up bargains.
Some people were purchasing huge quantities of records, sometimes spending hundreds of dollars in one purchase.
The staff were able to purchase stock as well and my own classical and jazz collection grew quickly.
In 1988, Ross had all the records racks removed, new carpet laid down, and the shop was totally fitted out as a CD store. The remaining vinyl left was relegated to “out the back”.
The shop continued trading as a thriving business for many years after until internet purchasing and streaming took over as the main forums in which people purchased mainstream and back-catalogue music.
The bricks and mortar stores were unable to compete and Abels, along with most other stores world-wide were forced to close down.
But times change and and as I write this, bricks and mortar shops for recorded music are making a small comeback, most notably, Songland Records in Coolamin Court Weston, which is thriving. Owner Frog, and staff member Felicity pride themselves in being able to source the elusive “hard to get” recordings and DVDs.
Heribert Beissel
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| (Photo courtesy concerti) |
In 1987, Professor Heribert Beissel from Germany was engaged to conduct The Canberra Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, with soloists, in Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9. I was singing tenor in the choir.
Prior to this, CSO has been confidently conducted by Ernest Llewellyn and later Leonard Dommett. Suddenly this European Maestro had arrived and we were all a bit nervous at the first rehearsal. Beissel was delighted with the orchestra, but the choir was a different story.
He became quite angry at one stage, because the choir could not define his downbeat. We were constantly coming in late on entries.
After a break and a serious talk to us by head of voice, David Parker, we resumed for another run and this time Beissel seemed happy. Certainly this performance in 1987 was exhilarating and received with great enthusiasm by the audience.
Professor Beissel returned two years later in August 1989, conducting Haydn's Symphony in D Major and the Don Quixote Fantastic Variations Op. 35 by Richard Strauss, with soloists Vincent Edwards (viola) and Nelson Cook (cello).
Professor Beissel passed away in June 2021, aged 88.
48th Commonwealth Parliamentary Conference
In 2001, I won the contract to produce the evening events for the 48th Commonwealth Parliamentary Conference in Canberra. I was working directly with then Senator Margaret Reid (who was also President of the Senate).
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| Senator Margaret Reid. (Photo courtesy Young Liberals) |
I decided the two best ways of achieving this were through choice of entertainment and the theming and decoration of the room.
There were 800 delegates from the countries of the British Commonwealth.
We needed a star compere and I decided upon ABC Classic FM’s Margaret Throsby. Margaret was brilliant, a class act and easy to work with. She had a clear understanding of what was needed.
Her opening address was to welcome our 800 delegates. In addition she would introduce each entertainment act at the appropriate juncture.
Opening with an indigenous Didgeridoo player positioned in the centre of the room on a small stage, his music was ideal for setting the scene for a fabulous evening.
In those days, an official welcome to country was not a requirement however.
As the evening progressed the staff at the National Convention Centre served the multi course dinner, complimented by the finest Australian wines.
Not being a wine expert myself, I enlisted my father and brother for advice on choosing the selection of wines.
Young Australian actor Ben Seton followed with his unusual mix of Shakespearian monologues combined with the Korean martial art of Taekwondo.
Ben was, at the time, the Pan Pacific Taekwondo champion.
His closing Shakespearian excerpt was the battle cry from Henry V - “Cry ‘God for Harry, England and St George!’ ”.
The entire room joined in and it set the scene for a joyous evening.
I hired a Chinese Dragon from Sydney - about 20 Chinese performers were inside the dragon as is made it’s way down the stairs and into the room, doing several circuits.
Then it was time for the Canberra Scottish Pipe band. A huge hit with the delegates, as they also weaved their way through the room.
Throughout the evening at various junctures, I had the Indonesian Gamelan Orchestra from the ANU, including dancers, provide musical entertainment.
The penultimate act, prior to a dance band kicking off, was Australian trumpet superstar James Morrison, who took everyone by surprise with his initial fanfare from one side of the room, then making his way though all the tables and delegates and onto the stage where he joined the band for a 20 minute set.
Room theming included a massive 12 metre wide and six metre high stage backdrop of Uluru with the parliament house spire silhouetted against it.
On another wall, through Margaret Reid’s contacts, I was able to secure one of the huge Australian Flags that flies from the mast of Parliament house.
This formed the backdrop to a second stage, from which a massed adult multicultural choir, directed by Moya Simpson performed a repertoire of songs from around the world.
Measuring 20 metres wide and 10 metres high it made a huge inpact. Moya’s choir sounded magnificent.
The following night, we broke the delegates up into six groups and they dined at six different venues around Canberra.
Little did we know that something horrific was to unfold later that evening - September 11, 2001.
Arriving home about 11pm, I flopped into bed and turned on the TV to see if there was an interesting late movie.
Instead, I watched a Boeing 757 go straight into one of News York’s twin Towers. Then another one.
A representative from Parliament house called me at 2am and asked if I could attend an emergency 9am briefing to decide whether to continue with the conference.
All delegates unanimously voted to see the conference through to completion.
At any rate, all international flights were grounded, so they couldn’t have gone home even if they wanted to.
The following evening was the third and final event.
I’d planned a rollicking Aussie bush night at the National Museum.
We stayed with the venue, but the entertainment had to be scaled right back.
I had to cancel the bush band (they still got paid), the hay bails and other room theming and entertainments, instead opting for a single harpist, playing gentle reflective music which seemed appropriate.
The late Peter Leonard from WIN TV was the compere for that one. A most stylish presenter.
Les Miserables 1994 and 1996
In July 1994 and again in January 1996, Canberra Philharmonic Society produced two stunning seasons of Boublil and Schonberg’s Les Misérables, the story based on Victor Hugo’s novel of the same name.
The amateur rights had just been released in Australia, for the very first time, and Philo jumped on it immediately. Those productions, at the time, put Philo on the National Map.
And right there as the centrepiece of it all, was Stephen Pike, in his unique and outstanding portrayal of the lead role - Jean Valjean.
Prior to that, Stephen had his own theatre Restaurant in Kippax (Belconnen) firstly named The Bellows and later Tarzans. Stephen wrote and directed many musical comedy stage shows there, with seating for up to 100 guests.
I was musical director for some cabaret performances there during the 1990s, playing for artists including Gery Scott, Kate Peters, Jillian Donaldson and Su Cruickshank.
For both seasons of Les Miserables I was in the orchestra, playing keyboards three and four. Lucy Birmingham played keyboards one and two.
Being in the orchestra pit at the Canberra Theatre, we were all privy to comments from audience members after the curtain came down. Scores of people would come down to the pit, leaning over the rail and say to one or a number of us “I’ve seen this in Sydney, I’ve seen it in London, I’ve seen it in New York - yours was better.” It happened multiple times every night.
I certainly knew we had a seriously excellent production - everyone in it knew that - cast, crew, orchestra, production team - we all knew that were were performing something really, really special, to a standard that eventually way exceeded anyone’s initial expectations.
My parents also told me on the nights they came - both in ’94 and ’96, that comments like that were frequently overheard both in the foyer at interval and also walking back to the carpark afterwards.
In addition, both seasons were totally sold out and we received a standing ovation every single night.
Director Colin Anderson certainly considered those two seasons as one of his greatest achievements - and he really did nail it and extracted everything possible from the cast. In addition, I think Musical Director Ian McLean and choreographer Michelle Heine also considered those productions to be one of the highlights of their long and distinguished careers in music theatre.
One further thing I should mention, is the late John Thompson’s set. It was so good - in fact a triumph of set design and construction, particularly the barricade, that multiple theatre companies around Australia wanted to hire it after we’d finished with it, which they did and it went all over Australia, being used countless times for future productions of Les Miserables.
The entrance of the barricade itself in our performances would always receive a thunderous round of applause.
One incredible moment during the rehearsal period was the day Stephen and director Colin Anderson, both saw, at exactly the same time, that Stephen had “found” his character.
“I remained seated on the stage in a sort of stunned manner,” Stephen said, “slightly breathless actually. I looked over at Colin and he was running up onto the stage.
“Colin embraced me, hugged me, kissed me - and I started crying”.
“You’ve found your JeanValjean!” said Colin. “I know - I can feel it.” said Stephen. “As soon as I felt it, I looked over at you and you were looking at me, and I knew that you knew too.”
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The late Stephen Pike (1954 - 2024) played the lead role of Jan Valjean. (Photo courtesy City News) |
It was a big moment during the production run and one that I think every actor and director who experiences this would put down as a significant turning point in a show’s progression during the rehearsal process.
But more than that however, from that moment on, Stephen kept his JeanValjean character even off stage. That’s how seriously he took the role.
Shirley MacLaine described exactly the same thing referring to Peter Sellers characterisation of Chance the Gardiner in the 1979 movie Being There. She said in an interview many years later that it took him quite a while to find the character of Chance and that when Sellers and director Hal Ashby finally saw the moment on the day he’d nailed it, he didn’t let go of it - both on and off the set.
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| Publicity still for the motion picture Being There (1979), Peter Sellers and Shirley MacLaine |
JeanValjean ages about 40 years during the story - from still a relatively young man with the prison number 24601 tattooed on his chest, to an old man on his death bed, with the ghost of Fantine by his side.
Stephen embraced the challenge of the ageing process with intense dedication and seriousness. It was one thing to have found his character as I previously outlined - but now that character had to age and change, not just in looks, but in personality, body language, stance, the way he walked and talked and, very importantly, in his singing voice.
We all know the ageing process - we’re all doing in incrementally day by day - but to have to do it to the extant Stephen did in a two and a half hour show, night after night, and so convincingly, was a stunning achievement on his part.
Some other cast members included Roy Weissensteiner as Marius in the 1994 season. Roy wasn’t available for the 1996 season and was replaced by Terence den Dulk.
Roy and Terence both had superb voices and acted their roles beautifully as well.
Tony Falla was the inn keeper Monsieur Thénardier. A brilliant portrayal.
One interesting and quite unique thing about the orchestrations for Les Miserables is that it is scored for four Yamaha DX7 synthesisers and orchestra.
The composers had developed about 30 new sounds for the production, to be used in addition to the hundreds of sounds and voices already built into the DX7’s.
These arrived as plug-packs and were inserted into sockets on top of the synth.
Being in the orchestra for Les Miserable and also being privy to the rehearsal process of these two productions was one of the highlights of my performing career.
Gery Scott
Born Diana Geraldine Whitburn in British India in 1923, singer and entertainer Gery Scott arrived in Australia in 1980. Gery was escaping from the heartbreak and trauma from having her third husband, the oil magnate Tony Diamond, run off with a young girl from Singapore.
Gery’s first marriage was to RAF pilot Pat Lofting and had her only child Christopher with him. Chris in turn had a daughter Kate Lofting.
Growing up in the Raj, Gery’s interest and talent for singing developed from an early age and circumstances led her to record Stormy Weather for Indian Columbia in 1943, aged 20.
Issued as a 78, the backing band was conducted by Teddy Weatherford. Playing clarinet in the band was one Reuben Solomon, husband of his future wife many years later, cookbook guru Charmaine Solomon.
It would be forty-five years later that Gery met them in Australia, connected the surnames and discovered who Reuben and Charmaine were. The three developed a close friendship from then on.
Gery traveled the world performing with her then partner, pianist Igo Fischer and recorded extensively for Supraphon in Czechoslovakia in the late 1950s releasing eighty titles, sometimes billed as Gery Scottova.
The Czechs wanted to add a jazz arm to their major label which had been classical only up until then. They had the big band arrangers ready to roll - Gustav Brom, Karel Vlach and Dalibor Brazda - but no female singer! Gery was at hand, and she was signed.
A tour of the Soviet Union in 1961 saw Gery perform two sold out shows at the Kiev Opera House on April 12, the same day that cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin completed the first manned space flight in Vostok 1.
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| Gery, accompanied by husband Igo Fisher on piano, Kiev Opera House, April 12, 1961 (Photo collection Gery Scott) |
At interval, the Russian officials came to her dressing room and requested she sing How High the Moon to open the second half of the show, celebrating Gagarin’s space mission.
Gery and Igo willingly agreed. The Russian audience went mad and she had to repeat the song again.
Gery and Igo were married at the Moscow Palace of Weddings that same year.
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| Gery Scott and Igo Fisher are married in The Moscow Palace of Weddings 1961, at the suggestion of the wife to the British Ambassador. For official purposes, she probably would have used Diana Whitburn as her maiden name, and become Diana Fisher. (Photo collection Gery Scott) |
Moving to Britain later in 1961, she was signed to Parlophone by Beatles manager George Martin, releasing four singles under him.
Then it was Hong Kong for many years where Gery was appointed entertainment director for the Hilton Hotel Far East Chain. A huge job where she helped launch many artists, including Shirley Bassey.
Gery and Igo’s marriage eventually ended and she met Oil Magnate Tony Diamond, bringing her to Iran and the oil fields. He demanded she give up her singing career and play the dutiful wife.
Tony Diamond was murdered in England in 1986. It’s still a cold case crime.
I first met Gery in 1987, two years after she was appointed head of vocal jazz at the Canberra School of Music. She had formed a vocal jazz ensemble and I auditioned for that and was accepted.
These were some of the best years of my life - we toured extensively and had great fun learning and performing the vast repertoire Gery had lined up for us.
Gery and I formed a close musical bond as she liked my piano playing and asked if I would be her musical director and pianist for her solo performances. Wow!
Gery and I performed countless jazz cabaret seasons at many venues, including several at the School of Arts Cafe in Queanbeyan, owned and operated by Bill and Pat Stephens and son Timothy.
A Noël Coward show, a Cole Porter show and for many years, a variety cabaret season to mark Gery’s birthday, October 5.
Gery was booked as a headliner for the 2003 Sydney Cabaret Convention. We headed down, having prepared a 30 minute show containing six numbers.
American cabaret journalist Dr David Schwartz was in the audience and wrote a stunning review, published on Stu Hamstra’s Cabaret Hotline Online website, which I reproduce below:
Gery Scott at the Sydney Cabaret Convention
by Dr David Schwartz
June 2, 2003
GERY Scott’s performance provided me with one of those life-changing and totally defining cabaret experiences that was instantly committed to memory, along with my first exposure to Mabel Mercer, Julie Wilson, Sarah Vaughan, Sylvia Syms and a host of other greats. The impact that this woman made on me and the rest of the audience was very special.
For her set at the Sydney Cabaret Convention, Gery Scott opened with a swinging version of "I Get A Kick Out of You" (Porter), segued seamlessly to a heart-wrenching performance of Peter Allen's "Don't Cry Out Loud" and lifted the mood with a snappy "When In Rome" (Coleman/Leigh). At this point, this woman could have taken her audience anywhere she chose, moving so effortlessly and elegantly from joy to sadness.
For her next number, Gery chose one of the great cabaret ballads, "Something Cool" (Barnes). Ever since I first heard June Christy's recording I have longed to hear a live performance of this classic that caught the pathos and understated pain of this song; Gery Scott gave me the performance of my dreams and more as she held the entire audience in the palm of her hand. It does not get much better than this!
In another change of pace she finished the set with a deliciously dry talked/sung rendition of Coward's "Uncle Harry" and received a standing ovation. In response, Gery Scott encored with Sondheim's "Send In The Clowns" in a performance that made me - and everyone else within earshot - forget every other rendition of this remarkable ballad they had ever heard. Once again the audience was on its feet.
Of course, Gery's backing supported her magic. On this occasion she worked with a trio consisting of her superb accompanist Tony Magee, along with Scott Dodd on bass and Nick McBride on drums. For me, Gery Scott's set represented that rare moment in cabaret when the singer and her song are indistinguishable. This sort of alchemy comes only after many years; to witness it is to be blessed.
Stu Hamstra passed away in 2017 aged 77, but his legacy continues with a new site - Cabaret Scenes (cabaretscenes.org).
But back to the 2003 Sydney convention. Toni Lamond, Stuart Wagstaff and Dale Burridge were also on the billing that night and gave wonderful performances too.
Gery’s great niece Larissa MacFarquar, a journalist for The New Yorker magazine came out for the Convention, not only to see the show, but also to conduct a series of interviews with Gery about her performing career. The resulting essay was entitled The Jazz Singer and published in The New Yorker in October 2003. It’s a great read.
I reproduce just one small part of The New Yorker article below:
Gery Scott performs in Germany, 1955.
by Larissa MacFarquhar
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| Gery with son Christopher (aged 6) and Pan American Airways executive Barry Eldridge at Frankfurt Airport, 1955. (Photo collection Gery Scott) For aviation enthusiasts: The Pan American Airways plane registration number can be seen - N773PA. It was a Douglas DC-7B named Clipper Endeavour. Entered service that year - 1955, and retired 1964. My thanks to John Steele and the Pan Am Historical Foundation 2015.  |
In the Summer of 1955, at the height of the Cold War, Gery was invited to perform at a big music festival in East Germany: Communist officials had come around to jazz in the fifties, because they had been led, by Paul Robeson among others, to understand that real jazz (as opposed to white commercialisation) was the music of the oppressed American Negro.
By that time, Gery was well known: she had sung with Chet Baker and the Woody Herman band and had gone solo - she was living in sin in Wiesbaden with her accompanist, a handsome German pianist named Igo Fisher, with whom she travelled to gigs all over Europe, east and west.
She had a recording contract with Supraphon in Prague, and her recording of “When the Saints Go Marching In” was No. 1 on the Czechoslovakian hit parade for more than a year.
The music festival was to take place on an open-air stage in a park and officials expected an audience of more than 70,000. They were quite nervous about it and they were adamant that Gery sing only pretty songs - nichts zu heiss, nothing too “hot” - but at the same time they were very keen that she sing her signature hit, “When the Saints Go Marching In,” because it was Dixieland and most definitely the music of the oppressed American Negro.
Gery explained that it was a fast song and could get quite heiss, but the officials insisted that she go ahead and sing it none-the-less.
The park was teaming. There was an East German Dixieland band, a jazz singer from Romania, a jazz singer from Hungary, singers and bands from all over the place, but they were all warm-up acts for Gery, who would close the show.
By the end of her set, everybody was yelling for more and when at last she sang “When the Saints Go Marching In,” the crowd went wild, clapping and screaming and singing along.
As she was taking her bows and saying thank you, a little boy about ten years old slipped onto the stage, through a two-man-deep cordon of policemen, thrust a copy of one of her records at her and begged her to sign it. Gery was so high and boy was so small that she did.
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| Gery singing at Landsthul Air Base, Germany, 1955. (Photo collection Gery Scott) |
At that moment, the crowd broke through the cordon and rushed the stage. Gery, terrified, ran backwards and fell down the stage steps and a thick piece of wood sliced into her calf. She screamed in pain, Igo screamed in fear, seventy-thousand people screamed in excitement and police whistles and sirens were going off everywhere.
But before a doctor could remove the wood from her leg, the police rushed into the Red Cross tent and demanded that she and Igo get in their car and drive straight to the border without stopping.
They were accompanied on the journey by the East German police and then drove eleven hours to Prague, where they were due to record the next day.
By the time they arrived, Gery’s leg was so swollen that she was worried about gangrene.
A week later, Neues Deutschland, the East German equivalent of Pravda, carried an article stating that Western entertainers were not allowed to come to East Germany to try to coerce the young people into revolution. Gery was declared persona-non-grata and was never invited to perform there again.
In 2005, Gery was diagnosed with cancer and given just a few months to live.
One day, she put my hands in hers and asked me, with a tear in her eye, “Can’t I do just one more gig?”
“Absolutely you can,” I replied. “Leave it to me - I’ll organise everything.”
And so the event “A Lovely Afternoon with Gery” was held at Hyatt Hotel Canberra in October of that year. Rueben and Charmaine Solomon were amongst the guests, as were Gery’s son Chris and granddaughter Kate.
It was supposed to be a two act show, but as the date approached I could see she was failing and there would be no show.
“Gery, do you think you could manage just one song? That’s all we need to get the event started and then its schmoozing and woozing as guests circulate, a la cocktail party. Everyone will want to talk to you.” I suggested.
“Yes darling - one song I can manage,” she replied.
And so we did Got a lot of Livin’ to Do.
Gery sang it from her wheelchair.
Later in the afternoon, she spontaneously got out of her wheelchair and wandered over to the piano. Wayne Kelly was playing some of his fabulous jazz, as had John Black earlier in the afternoon. Gery just picked up the microphone and started to sing Body and Soul. Wayne quickly found her key and it went over a treat.
Three months later, Gery passed away at Clare Holland House Hospice, aged 82.
I sent press releases all over the world and The Times in London published a lovely obituary, as did a news outlet in the Czech republic. The Canberra Times ran the news of Gery’s passing on page 3. The following week, coverage of her funeral at St Paul’s Cathedral in Manuka was front page.
Wilfrid Jones.
For the latter part of his career, violinist Wilf Jones was based in Canberra, taught jazz violin at the Canberra School of Music and performed in a cabaret setting on many occasions, including a show with Stéphane Grappelli at the Canberra Theatre.
Prior to that he was associate concert master with the Auckland Philharmonic.
His early professional years were in Britain, playing with the Mantovani Orchestra, The Goon Show orchestra and the BBC Light Music orchestra.
Bill Stephens asked me if I would be interested in forming a cabaret trio with Wilf and double bass player Louisa Searle for performances at the Cafe. I was greatly enthused and so it came to pass.
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L - R: Louisa Searle, Wilfrid Jones and Tony Magee, at the School of Arts Cafe. (Photo: Robert Roach) |
Wilf had previously appeared there in a trio setting with Anton Wurzer on accordion and George Urbaszek on bass.
The repertoire we chose for our show was light orchestral, including arrangements from Mantovani, the Palm Court and Salon music of Albert Sandler and our own arrangement of The Carnival of the Animals by Camille Saint-Saëns, including the interlinking poetry by Ogden Nash.
Wilf and I had just finished playing in the orchestra for a season of Fiddler on the Roof, so we included a bracket of selections from that great musical as well.
It was a beautiful program and we pulled in good houses every night for a month long season.
As well as the musical repertoire itself, the show included some of the many wonderful stories Wilf had from fifty or more years of performing all over the world.
One of his haunts as a young musician during the war years was the Serviceman’s Club in Eastbourne.
Monday to Saturday there were live music big band concerts, including the Glen Miller Orchestra on Wednesdays and Thursdays and the Robert Farnon Orchestra from Canada on Fridays and Saturdays.
In Wilf’s words, “Well as you can imagine, I used to live there!”
Another anecdote, which took everyone by surprise including myself, was the real story behind Mantovani and his musical arrangements.
The famous lush, cascading strings were not a Mantovani invention at all. What became the Mantovani sound was actually the work of an orchestra member - Ronald Binge.
In Wilf’s words: “Ronny did an arrangement of ‘Charmaine’. Within the first and second violins, small groups of us had to play a demi-semi quaver apart so as to form an almost waterfall effect within the music.
“Listening to Mantovani recordings, of which there were legion, people assumed that the unique cascading strings were achieved electronically with reverberation units. But it was actually all done acoustically.
“Ronny showed the arrangement to Mantovani who decided to give it a try with the orchestra one day in rehearsal.
“Mantovani loved it and offered to buy Ronny’s arrangement for £25. And poor Ronny sold away a fortune.
“What was actually the Binge sound became the Mantovani sound, and Mantovani copied that arranging style from then on.”
The Singing Waiters
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The Singing Waiters performing at The School of Arts Cafe circa 1992. (Photo: Robert Roach) L - R: Tony Magee, Greg Stott, Chris Woods, Nick Begbie, Craig Schneider, Andrew Bisset , Dean Salonga. |
The Singing Waiters were a seven piece a cappella vocal group formed in 1991 from an idea by the late event producer Warwick Hamilton, the concept then being embraced by me to continue on for the next six years as an entertainment for corporate events.
In its first incarnation from 1991 to 1993, the members were: myself, Nick Begbie, Andrew Bisset, Greg Stott, Chris Woods, Craig Schneider and Dean Salonga.
In addition, Peter J Casey was a member for the first three months, so we actually started out as eight.
In late 1993, Dean auditioned for the professional production of Cameron Macintosh’s Miss Saigon at the Theatre Royal in Sydney.
The process was a grilling series of five auditions in Sydney, spaced about two months apart. I played for Dean for all five auditions.
At the very final audition, we noticed that the stage was lit but that the theatre itself was blacked out. We couldn’t see who was sitting out there.
I asked about this and was told by the stage manager that there were just three people in attendance to hear us. The two composers plus Cameron Macintosh.
Dean passed with flying colours and was accepted into the cast.
I then set about holding auditions for The Singing Waiters to replace him.
Ra Khahn was the successful applicant (now Ra Wilson). That lineup continued until Christmas 1996, when we made our final performance in a concert setting of Carols by Candlelight on Canberra’s Stage 88.
Prior to this, our usual performance mode was thus: We would masquerade as drink waiters for about 15 minutes at a corporate dinner or cocktail party and then suddenly burst into song.
The real staff would then take over drink service and we would circulate around the room singing our repertoire to tables of guests or groups of guests if it was a stand up cocktail event.
We wrote all our own arrangements. Most were conceived by Craig and Greg. Chris, Andrew and myself contributed a few as well.
But sometimes we were engaged to perform in a concert setting, with no waitering at all.
We performed at Carols by Candlelight for three years in a row. The Little Drummer Boy always went over well, as did our slight rearrangement of the Beatles hit, Baby You Can Drive My Car, into Baby You Can Drive My Sleigh.
But the big one was being engaged as support act for Shirley MacLaine in mid 1993.
We put a lot of work into the preparation for that. I even engaged choreographer Sheridan McDonald so we had a little bit of movement with our songs.
Miss MacLaine sent a note back to our dressing room after our thirty minute set, saying that throughout her international career, we were the best support act she’d ever had. Wow!
In all, we counted over 200 performances during our time together.
All good things come to an end though. Some of the boys were students and after graduation, everyone had their own agenda.
Dean, Andrew and I stayed in Canberra. The others moved away.
The Winter Singers.
My first piano teacher, Wilfrid Holland, had formed a choir in Canberra in 1963 with his wife Carol, three years after they arrived in Canberra in 1960.
Prior to that, Wilfrid was musical director and conductor of the Dover Choral and Orchestral Societies and the Dover Singers in Britain.
He named his Canberra choir The Winter Singers.
My Grandmother, Mrs Eileen Magee joined them in 1967.
I joined in 1989, along with my friend and house-mate at the time, Gabrielle Bermingham.
Wilfred found classical choral repertoire from around the world for us to rehearse and perform, some pieces being his own compositions.
There were about 50 members and we developed a professional and polished sound.
There were scores of performances in and around Canberra and further afield. I mostly sang in the tenor section, but sometimes switched to bass, depending on the range of the parts.
After many years, Wilfrid decided it was time to relinquish his leadership of The Winter Singers and to my astonishment, asked me if I would take over.
I declined, on the basis that I didn’t have the experience to lead a classical music choral group of that size and also that I was already so busy being in The Canberra School of Music Vocal Jazz Ensemble (directed by Miss Gery Scott), the ANU Chamber Choir (directed by Warren Bebbington), The ANU Opera Workshop (directed by David Parker and Marie Van Hove) and The Singing Waiters, as well as running my booking agency and event production business.
In July 1993, he finally disbanded the Winter Singers.
The Canberra School of Music Vocal Jazz Ensemble
Jazz and Cabaret singer Gery Scott was appointed head of vocal jazz at the Canberra School of Music in 1985.
That same year she formed the Vocal Jazz Ensemble from her own singing students. Later she allowed alumni and other outsiders to audition and join the group. I was one of those.
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CSM Vocal Jazz Ensemble circa 1990. Back row: Gery Scott, Tony Magee, Nathan Moore, Gavin George, Dean Salonga, Gabby Bermingham, Jill Williams, Megan Corson Middle row: Andrew Bisset, Craig Schneider, Nick Begbie, Lucy Bermingham, Megan Hunter, Bronwyn McKenzie, Trish Delaney, Nick McBride, Tim Long, Jim Fuller Front row (kneeling down): Chris Woods, Gregg Stott, Andrew Piper, Adam Bodkin |
Gery found repertoire from around the world for us to rehearse and perform.
Pianist John Black wrote a fabulous arrangement of Tuxedo Junction for us. Gery found various arrangements by Gene Puerling of Singers Unlimited and a whole lot of other pieces.
In 1989 and 1990 we toured NSW with the Canberra School of Music Big Band, directed by Don Johnson.
With two weeks for each tour, we had a ball and gave many performances in many towns and cities, starting with the Sydney Jazz Convention.
There were usually 12 singers in the group, three each on Soprano, Alto, Tenor and Bass. I alternated between tenor and bass, depending on the tessitura of the song.
Our backing was mostly piano, bass and drums. However a few of our pieces had the full big band backing us.
Água de Beber (Water to Drink) by Antônio Carlos Jobim was one such piece and a particular favourite of mine, a bossa nova jazz standard.
We recorded it in the early 1990s as an inclusion on the CD, “Together”, released on the School of Music’s own label.
Other repertoire included Route 66 (which we would often open with) and On Green Dolphin Street - in all about 30 pieces.
1991 was my last year with Vocal Group. I really miss it.
Earlier this year (2024) singer Leisa Keen formed a new Vocal Jazz Ensemble here in Canberra. Their debut concert is Sunday December 1.
Larry and Magda Sitsky
A world renowned composer, Larry Sitsky, was born in China of Russian-Jewish parents and travelled to Australia in 1951 settling in Sydney. He studied piano from an early age and was granted a scholarship to the New South Wales Conservatorium of Music, where he studied piano and composition, graduating in 1955. Post-graduate studies continued with the distinguished Australian pianist and teacher, Winifred Burston. In 1966 he was appointed Head of Keyboard Studies at the School of Music in Canberra (now part of the Australian National University), where he was later Head of Musicology, Head of Composition Studies, Head of Academic Studies and now Distinguished Visiting Fellow, as well as Emeritus Professor.
Larry and his wife Magda have become treasured friends of mine, at first through me being engaged to tune Larry’s piano annually, sometimes twice annually.
They always ask me to play something and I often choose something by Gershwin.
It has now become a tradition for me to play Gershwin’s The Man I Love for Magda, whenever I see them.
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Larry and Magda Sitsky at Larry's 90th birthday concert 2024. (Photo: Peter Hislop) |
Larry performs regularly in Canberra and I always make a point of being in the audience to capture his always fascinating interpretations of a vast repertoire of solo piano music.
At a concert performance on September 3, 2019, marking his 85th birthday, I made the following observation as part of my review for Canberra City News:
“Through Larry Sitsky’s interpretation of Rachmaninoff’s Elegie and Polichinelle, from his ”Morceaux de fantaisie, Op. 3” we are hearing one of the last living links to 19th century piano technique.
“This includes a relaxed weight technique, economy of motion, bell-like clarity in tone production and the bringing out of inner voices within the harmonic structure of the piece. In addition, Sitsky employs something that is referred to as ‘breaking of hands’, whereby the left hand slightly proceeds the right or sometimes lags. It was a style of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
“Through Larry Sitsky’s playing, we heard the pianistic performance hallmarks of Ferruccio Busoni, Josef Hofmann, Theodore Leschetizky, Franz Liszt, Camille Saint-Saëns, Leopold Godowsky, Sergei Rachmaninoff and others.
“A Sitsky piano performance offers the listener a glimpse of a bygone era, where the great pianists established what is possibly the greatest era of interpretation.”
After a Steinway convention in Canberra in 2010 where Larry was performing, he showed me the way in which he believed the first movement of Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 14, “Moonlight” should be performed.
In his opinion, the middle section was intended by Beethoven as an improvisation, in terms of rhythm, dynamics and tempo (not the actual notes or melody).
I asked him if he could demonstrate what he meant, which he did.
Starting with the first rising arpeggiated passage, one increases the tempo gradually, up and down, almost into a furioso manner. In addition, pianissimo to forte and eventually double forte is required.
At the end of the passage, one returns to the original tempo and volume.
It certainly creates a massively dramatic effect and I have now adopted Sitsky’s suggestions into my own version of playing it.
Some people would be shocked on hearing it in performance. Providing the explanation is definitely a good idea prior to playing it in public.
Sitsky has received numerous honours for his compositions, as well as his research. In 2000 he became a Member of the Order of Australia. He has also been awarded a Centenary Medal, Advance Australia award, and cultural ambassadorships to China, Russia, and the USA.
His areas of expertise include the music of Ferruccio Busoni, Nikolai and Anton Rubinstein, Music of the twentieth century avant-garde, the repressed Russian avant-garde and 20th century Australian piano music. Many of Sitsky's writings on these topics have now become standard texts.
Sitsky's recording projects have focused on contemporary Australian composers, especially Roy Agnew. His own works are included in numerous anthologies and collections released on labels including ABC Classics, Tall Poppies and Jade CDs.
But his first foray into employment in Australia was working for ABC television in a technical capacity during the mid 1950’s.
Prime minister Robert Menzies insisted that television must be ready to broadcast the 1956 Melbourne Olympics, which it was.
Not only were the Games broadcast around Australia, but it meant that all the overseas networks could link up with us and the games were broadcast around the world.
But something else special happened later that year involving ABC Television and Larry Sitsky.
The American pianist Liberace made his first concert tour of Australia. Besides the main live concerts at various arenas, it was decided that Liberace would include a live television broadcast for the ABC.
Larry was appointed to oversee all that and make sure all the camera angles were correct – one for his hands only, another camera for his always smiling face, one for inside the piano showing strings and hammers and a fourth further away, showing Liberace and piano together. Plus, the correct placement of various microphones to capture the sound in maximum resolution.
The day came when Liberace arrived at the ABC Gore Hill studios where Sitsky worked and the two met for the first time. It didn’t take long for them to discover, during conversation, that they had both learned piano from the same teacher – Egon Petri. An instant friendship developed.
Some years ago, I remember asking Larry Sitsky about Liberace. I just wanted to know what he was like as a person and also Larry’s opinion of him as a pianist. “Tony, Liberace was an absolutely delightful person to work with. Very friendly, kind and sincere.” said Larry. “And you know, he was actually a highly skilled pianist, although this was often vastly overshadowed by his increasing penchant for wearing lavish, sometimes outrageous costumes on stage and also his Las Vegas style showmanship and stage persona.”
Gaye Reid and the China experiences
In 1995, I was a member of the rock band Big City. Gaye Reid was our singer. It was a seven piece outfit.
In December of that year, we were invited to perform in Beijing for the Australian Embassy’s News Years Eve Ball.
Cathay Pacific sponsored our airfares and it was all very exciting.
We stayed for a week and had a different tourist outing planned for each day, including The Ming Tombs, The Great Wall, the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square.
Our visit to Tiananmen Square took an unexpected and frightening twist.
A small Chinese boy, probably about ten years old, started sketching us on his sketch pad. He was about thirty metres away. When he finished he boldly walked over and offered us his work, which we accepted with friendly gratitude.
He refused payment, so we instead decided to sing Waltzing Matilda as a gesture of thanks.
It didn’t take long for a large crowd of Chinese locals to gather around as we chortled away - maybe about 300 people.
Now, the Tiananmen Square Massacre had occurred only six years previously and things were still pretty tense. The Square was patrolled by scores of armed soldiers marching up and down.
The large massed crowd caused them to become quite alarmed and they dispersed the Chinese crowd quickly with various shouts and commands.
Then their attention turned to us. Who were we and what were we doing in Tiananmen Square?
Our tour manager Paul Donohoe, explained who we were. We were instructed in stern terms to vacate Tiananmen Square, return to our hotel and stay there.
I actually thought we were going to be arrested, but luckily it didn’t come to that.
News spread quickly and a press release was filed by The World Today overseas correspondant Camille Funnell.
Canberra Times journalist Simon Grose picked it up and wrote an article about our scary encounter, which included the passage, “But after a single verse, the words came true: “down came the troupers, one, two, three.”
The ball itself went off with a bang and everyone had a great time - about 500 guests were present.
Dinner music was supplied by The Bejing Film Orchestra who sounded great, and then we graced the stage and played rock and pop dance music.
Andrew Denton was the MC and it was a very successful evening.
The following day - News Years Day - I was asked to play some background music over lunch on a piano in the ground floor foyer. To my astonishment it was a Steinway model C grand, in tune, and sounding wonderful.
On our way home, we had a one night stop over in Hong Kong and did some shopping. I loved Hong Kong.
Courtney Leiba
Born in Trinidad, West Indies, Courtney Leiba joined the Esso Trinidad Tripoli Steel Band in 1964 as a percussionist, later switching to steel pans.
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Photo courtesy Steel Pan community of Australia |
It was in Trinidad and Tobago he met the love of his life and future wife Marion, who at the time was a vulcanologist and seismologist at the University of West Indies.
Marion eventually secured a job in Canberra with the Bureau of Mineral Resources and later the Australian Geological Survey Organisation and the pair arrived here in 1981, settling in Kambah.
Rehearsing at the Leiba household made me realise that Courtney and Marion’s relationship was definitely founded on the old adage “opposites attract”.
Marion was by now with Geoscience Australia and had seismographs operating in many rooms of the house. She once told me they were so sensitive, they could pick up not just tremor and quake movements in the Canberra region, but Australia-wide and also in some other parts of the world.
By contrast, Courtney would be grooving and panning his way around the house - congas and steel drums set up everywhere - so completely was he absorbed in his music.
He secured performing engagements throughout Canberra on so many levels - from a simple music duo entertaining passers by at the Wanniassa shops, to larger ensembles at Hyatt Hotel Canberra, the National Convention Centre and other venues.
A social campaigner, Leiba was made a life member of the Labor Party.
After his death at the age of 87 in February 2024, the Steelpan Community of Australia, PANZ Inc said, “Courtney was a true legend within the international pan community, and his humble nature touched the lives of many.”
Elton John
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Elton John aboard the piano at Canberra Stadium, Bruce, November 14, 2012. (Photo: Melissa Adams)
Since 1978, I’ve seen Elton John live five times. The ’78 show was at Festival Hall in Melbourne. I was 19 years old.
The first half featured Elton alone at the piano singing and playing many of his greatest hits up to that time.
Curiously, there was a giant clam shell also on stage, positioned to the left of the piano. Seriously, it was the size of a medium sized room.
As the second half of the show commenced, with Elton seated at the piano, the clam shell slowly opened. Inside was percussionist Ray Cooper, with all his instruments and the two musicians played the second set together.
It was a fantastic concert and also one of the most unusual I’ve ever attended, by anybody.
Then in 1996, my agent Coralie Wood, also a publicist, gave me a ticket to see Elton at the Sydney Entertainment Centre, this time with the full band.
When I say “the full band”, I mean Nigel Olsson on drums, Davey Johnstone on guitar, Ray Cooper on percussion, Bob Burch on bass and one or two other musicians.
Elton has had three different bass players over the years, the current one being Matt Bissonette.
In the early days it was Dee Murray (1946 - 1992) and then Bob Birch (1956 - 2012). 1n 1995 Bob was badly injured in a car accident in which he was hit by a pick-up truck while walking the streets of Montreal, breaking both his legs as well as severely damaging his back and spine.
But within six months he was back on tour with Elton which he continued to do for the next seventeen years.
Bob never fully recovered from his injuries both physically and mentally and was always in constant pain. On August 15, 2012, he died from an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound in his Los Angeles home, aged 56.
Elton performed at the Bruce Stadium in Canberra on Nov 14, 2012. I and my family as well as my good friend Alex Olivier all went along and we had great seats close to the stage. It was a brilliant show.
Then on 5th December 2015 Elton and the band, this time with new bass player Matt Bissonette who joined The Elton John Band in 2012 (replacing Bob Burch), performed at Hope Estate Winery in the Hunter Valley. Alex and I drove up and attended the concert with his parents Jane and Tony. Once again the concert was awesome!
And my final outing with Elton was in Coffs Harbour on Feb 26, 2020 for the Farewell Yellow Brick Road World Tour.
My friend Geoff Boyd owned two Cessna 172 planes. Alex and I hired one and Alex, who is a skilled pilot (and also a talented pianist) flew us up there. We were joined by his boyfriend at the time Jack McCann.
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Publicity photo for Elton’s final world tour, which included the Coffs Harbour concert. |
The Coffs experience was meticulously organised and Elton and the band were stunning. I think the city was overwhelmed at the prospect of hosting someone of the magnitude of Sir Elton John. They pulled out all the stops. Continuous bus shuttle services from multiple locations to and from the venue. The accomodation facilities all had bus stop maps waiting for guests as they checked in.
We were lucky to have caught the Coffs Harbour concert because just after he finished it, COVID struck and the second half of his final world tour was cancelled. He’d already completed 173 concerts around the world and had about the same number to go.
But as the current promoters have stated, "Elton is back in 2023 and determined to finish that final world tour”.
And now alas, I will not be able to travel to Sydney to see Elton perform at Allianz Stadium on January 18, due to me being hospitalised for the last three weeks. I’m due for discharge tomorrow (January 16), but I need a couple of weeks at home to fully recuperate. So no travelling.
But I’ll be thinking of what I’m missing and wishing I was there.
ANU Opera Workshop
The ANU Opera workshop was set up in 1980 by Welsh tenor David Parker and his wife and pianist / accompanist Marie Van Hove.
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| David Parker & Marie van Hove |
David was my classical voice teacher. He had aspirations of turning me into an operatic tenor. I stayed with him as a private student for about 3 years. Becoming a professional opera singer was not ever really on my radar, but I really did enjoy my lessons with David and Marie. Having Marie accompany me at the piano was a luxury. She was so good and followed every phrase and nuance.
But singing tenor in their Opera workshop was truly joyous. I just loved it. Our first production was Monteverdi’s The Coronation of Poppea.
Monteverdi was a transitional composer and one of the leading lights in progressing the timeline of music from the late Renaissance to Early Baroque.
We also performed Acis and Galatea by Handel, Vivaldi’s Gloria RV 589, The Bartered Bride by Smetana, Brahms’ Liebslieder Waltzes, Handel’s Messiah, an Opera variety concert at Westminster House and other works.
Piano lessons and University days
Growing up, music was prominent in our household. Both my grandmothers were pianists and they inspired me.
In addition, my parents were fond of music and they played recorded music almost every day from the big Akai reel-to-reel, an old M4 valve model, which had a fantastic rich sound. We also had a little Dual turntable. The old reel-to-reel was eventually traded in for a brand new Akai GXC-38 cassette deck in 1973.
The Seekers featured prominently, as did Handel’s Messiah, Joan Sutherland and lighter repertoire from Mantovani, plus the test pattern music from both ABC television and CTC 7.
I commenced formal piano lessons from age 9 with Wilfrid Holland.
Prior to that however, I was allowed to mess about on Gran’s Symphony piano which she had loaned us.
I can clearly remember working out simple little arrangements of so many of the Seeker’s songs before commencing formal lessons with Wilfrid.
In addition, my parents would sometimes wake me up late at night and encourage me to watch an ABC Television program called “Concerto”, which was broadcast once a week. If it featured a pianist with orchestra, I was glued to it and absorbing details of how people played and the repertoire.
One episode that stands out clearly in my mind was a young Krystian Zimerman playing Beethoven’s Emperor Piano Concerto. I became entranced by that concerto from eight years of age and it was one of the first classical recordings I purchased as a teenager.
Learning piano from Wildrid Holland was mostly a joy. Occasionally he would become frustrated with me, because I had a penchant for improvising around some passages and embellishing with extra motifs and ornamentation.
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| Wilfrid Holland. (Photo courtesy Australian Music Centre) |
Seeing that I was very enthusiastic, he eventually encouraged me to do this, on the proviso that I learned each piece correctly as well. This I agreed to do.
With our little pact in place I progressed quickly.
Starting with the Scenes at a Farm and The Countryside series by Walter Carroll, combined with technical exercises from Mrs Curwen’s Pianoforte Method, the process of learning piano quickly turned to the Sonatas of Zoltán Kodály, in turn leading to Clementi and Mozart.
One afternoon, I arrived and announced that I would play Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.
“I haven’t taught you that” he exclaimed.
“I know, I worked it out by ear, copying from a recording by Philippe Entremont.” I replied.
“Did you now. Hmmm, well play it through for me.”
At the completion he was complimentary, but added that my version was far from anything like what Beethoven actually wrote.
Wilfred then played it through for me, reading from the music. He was particularly expressive and made a point of the G sharp bass motifs toward the end of the piece and how to bring this out with clarity and authority, as well as how to combine the printed score with a rubato feel, within the bounds of good taste.
I was mesmerised by his performance and asked if we could work on it together, the object being that I would learn it properly.
Another little pact was agreed upon.
When I turned fourteen my parents determined that I was losing interest and arranged an audition for me at The Canberra School of Music.
I passed that and was excepted into the Single Studies Program, studying for three years with Lillian Tan, who would occasionally say “You’re doing well.”
Upon turning twenty I decided to audition for the Tertiary program of a Batchelor of Music Education, majoring in piano, with a sub-major in classical voice.
On the audition panel were William Hawkey, John Luxton, Joan Chia and Lillian Tan.
I played the first movement of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata and then my own piano transcription of the Lute Concerto in D major by Antonio Vivaldi. This second piece had them all somewhat flummoxed.
“Well, the boy certainly has a good ear,” pronounced William Hawkey. He then set about giving me some ear tests, something that wasn’t actually a requirement of the audition process.
They were mostly impressed, with the exception of Joan Chia, who saw through my weakness straight away. I was a very poor sight reader.
I was excepted into the course on the proviso that I work hard on sight reading skills.
My delegated piano teacher was, once again, Lillian Tan. We had a good relationship, although she did occasionally mention to me that I was lazy and needed to start learning my classical repertoire more thoroughly, going through each piece with more attention to detail and not embellishing the pieces, something that I just couldn’t help myself from doing.
One interesting dichotomy was that I was excellent at sight singing. It came really naturally to me and I loved it and still do.
With my excellent musical ear, I set about making piano arrangements of masses of Hollywood movie themes and pop music of the day - particularly Elton John, Stevie Wonder and Carol King.
The movie On Golden Pond was released in 1981. The musical soundtrack featured a captivating piece as the film opened. Set in the lakes of New Hampshire, dawn is breaking. Birds are skimming over the glass-like surface of the lake. All the forest animals are waking up and a particular bird makes its distinctive call - the loon.
Composer Dave Grusin wanted to capture all this peace and tranquility and the opening theme does just that.
I worked it out by ear from the soundtrack recording. The music wasn’t published and you may be astonished to hear that it has never been published. Who knows why.
One day I was playing it through in a practice room on level six and there was a knock at the door. Two young girls in their early twenties - identical twins of Hungarian extraction - were standing there with excited looks on their faces, I think almost in tears.
“That’s our favourite piece of music,” they exclaimed. “What’s your name and how do we get the music for On Golden Pond?” they queried.
Well I explained that it wasn’t published and that it was my own version.
Very glum faces indeed. I felt for them and offered to write it out in full for them. They were excited to say the least.
I had the music all written out in a couple of weeks and gave it to them.
Anna and Martha Mészáros have become lifelong friends of mine. We quickly established that they too were huge fans of Elton John. They played a great deal of his repertoire. You could buy the entire Goodbye Yellow Brick Road album as a book, which we all had.
Lillian Tan took me though some more advanced repertoire including Beethoven’s Pathetique Piano Sonata, some Listz, Bartok, Chopin and other composers.
Classical singing with David Parker.
The course requirement called for just one semester of this, but at the conclusion, David told me he thought I had talent and wanted me to continue. He said I’d make a fine operatic tenor.
After a meeting with head of school Ernest Llewellyn and Lillian Tan, it was decided that I could squeeze it all in if I was prepared to work hard.
I did work hard with singing and stayed with David and his wife Marie for two years on campus and then continued at their private home in Beasley Street, Pearce.
Italian arias and German Lieder, mostly Schubert, were my main fields of interest.
Marie had a beautiful Steinway grand piano which sounded glorious and having her as my accompanist was a real treat. I was working with one of the top accompanists in the country.
In addition, fellow piano student Phillipa Candy was studying accompanying with Marie and she sometimes played for me.
In 1985, the jazz department opened and I desperately wanted to join Gery Scott’s Vocal Jazz Ensemble, which I did.
I transitioned out of the classical repertoire and from 1988 onwards was learning jazz singing and repertoire from Gery as a private student.
I now also found myself in three choirs all at once: The ANU Opera Workshop, The ANU Chamber Choir, The Vocal Jazz Ensemble. Wilfred Holland’s Winter Singers would follow in 1989.
It was a huge load, because by then I was also playing piano four or five nights a week in piano bars and other venues, including many private functions, mostly weddings at The Lobby Restaurant, the Boathouse and corporate events at the National Convention Centre.
In addition I was teaching secondary school music full time at Padua Catholic High School (now Saint Mark MacKillop College).
This really was a huge load and much too much to take on. I started to manifest the symptoms of stress, although I hadn’t actually been to see a doctor and didn’t know exactly what was wrong with me.
Severe pins and needles in my hands and forearms, dizziness and a feeling of breathlessness.
I was scared but finally summoned up the courage to see a doctor and blurted out all my symptoms to him. He could see I was rapidly working myself into a state of panic and calmed me down saying, “Tony it’s all explainable and you are not seriously ill. You have the classic symptoms of hyperventilation.”
I didn’t know what that was, until he explained that it was oxygen poisoning of the blood. My breathing rate was through the roof and this was the cause.
“You’re suffering from stress and anxiety. Tell me about your lifestyle,” he said.
When I went through the multitude of my activities he explained that I was way overtaxing myself and that I needed to cut down on this massive workload in my life.
That was hard, in that I really couldn’t decide what to leave out.
But we nutted out a program which was more manageable. Just finally knowing that I didn’t have a brain tumour or some other terrible affliction, which I’d convinced myself that I had, helped calm me straight away.
David Helfgott, Petrof pianos and tea bags!
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| Helfgott montage by artist Robert Pengilley. |
In 1994, after the dissolution of Czechoslovakia into the democracies of the Czech Republic and Slovakia, the Czech government poured the equivalent of $A24 million into refurbishing the Petrof piano factory.
THE Petrof importers approached Christopher Davis, managing director of Canberra’s DW Music, where I worked, to commence discussions on stocking that brand, which resulted in a successful agreement and we received our first stock – four uprights and four grands – in July, 2009.
The shipment we received was a result of their new technology and manufacturing excellence.
One thing that sealed the deal for our shop, was the guarantee that the importers had secured Australian pianist David Helfgott as their official endorsee and brand ambassador and that a concert date would be arranged for him to perform in the store on their second-largest grand piano model, the “Monsoon”.
It was a free event, but as word spread, we quickly gave away all available 250 tickets.
The icing on the cake came when the Czech ambassador agreed to attend and make an address.
Thirteen years earlier in 1996, Scott Rankin’s Australian movie “Shine” was produced and released. It is a biographical, psychological drama based on the life of David Helfgott, distributed and published by Andrew Pike and Ronin films here in Canberra.
The day finally came in 2009 when David and Gillian arrived at our shop in Canberra, about 4.30pm, three hours before the concert would commence.
David’s apparent eccentricities initially amounted to nothing more than asking “where is your kitchen”?
Gillian was busy discussing formalities with Chris and didn’t hear this exchange, so one of the junior staff showed him upstairs and left him to it – assuming he wanted a drink of water.
David arrived downstairs about 10 minutes later carrying 10 boxes of tea bags. He’d been through every cupboard and draw, found all he could, opened many packets, stuffing tea bags into his pockets and juggling the other unopened boxes.
“Oh, no!” exclaimed Gillian. “Sorry everyone, David has an obsession with tea bags.”
However, it wasn’t a problem. Gillian gently removed the boxes from his grip and she said to him and to all of us: “Now David, I’ll just put these safely over here behind the counter, plus you can’t have all these loose ones in your pockets. It makes great big bulges, which won’t look very nice during the concert will it?
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| David and Gillian Helfgott. Photo: Elise Amendola / AP |
Gillian asked if we could take David somewhere quiet upstairs – not the kitchen – so we ushered him into the grand piano showroom and he sat down at various pianos and amused himself there, while Gillian and I went through the event order for the evening.
By 7pm, the house was filling up. The ambassador spoke about the history of Petrof piano manufacturing in his home country, then it was time to welcome Gillian to the podium.
She spoke about how she and David met, which was in the Perth wine bar Riccardo’s in 1983, co-owned by Dr Chris Reynolds. Reynolds offered David a job there playing on a battered old upright. He is credited as playing a significant part in David’s rehabilitation, having diagnosed him with early onset schizophrenia.
Dr Reynolds introduced him to his friend Gillian Murray. The two were married one year later in 1984.
Gillian said: “I wanted to try and continue David Reynolds work of rehabilitation. Seeing that this once great talent had disintegrated into a helpless individual with severe mental health issues, I wanted so much to get David playing professionally again and share my love for him and with him. It’s taken many years of patience, but we really have a strong bond and we really are deeply in love with each other.”
Gillian had taken on the triple role of wife, carer and manager. She mentioned that David’s favourite time to practice was beginning at about 2am, finishing at day break, so getting to sleep for her was hard, until the Petrof importers gifted them the giant “Monsoon” model grand piano, measuring 236 centimetres. After it was installed into their home in Bellingen, NSW, Gillian said that drifting off to sleep was no problem with the beautiful sounds of David playing their Petrof.
Gillian then introduced David to play, reminding him of what each piece was to be, after which he would then sit down and play it for the audience.
Commencing with “A Rustle of Spring” by Sinding, he arose delighted, shook everyone’s hands in the front two rows, before being gently ushered back to the piano by Gillian for his next piece, which she would always announce.
Mendelssohn’s “Rondo capriccioso Op. 14” is a crowd favourite and also a complex and difficult work to play. David played it with a fluid technique, his hands flittering over the keyboard in a relaxed manner with no forearm or wrist tension. Generally, this is highly desirable for any pianist of substance and quality, as there is no way of producing a singing tone from the instrument if you are stiff and jabbing.
Further works that followed included Chopin’s “Heroic Polonaise”, the Dame Myra Hess piano arrangement of Sebastian Bach’s “Jesu Joy of Man’s Desiring”, Beethoven’s “Pathétique” piano sonata, a few other piano miniatures and finishing with the “Prelude in C# minor” by Rachmaninoff.
In all, about an hour of music. The audience went crazy and he lapped up every moment.
Many critics around the world have unkindly dismissed David Helfgott as nothing more than an amusing circus act.
During a 1997 performance, critic Anthony Tommasini noted that Helfgott “stares into the hall and renders a non-stop commentary of grunts, groans and mutterings”.
At our 2009 concert at the shop, this was also evident, but I along with most of the audience quickly realised that this was just part of his mental state and it was not difficult to overlook and concentrate on his music.
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Petrof Monsoon grand piano. (Photo courtesy Petrof cz)
Gillian is herself an unsung hero in many other areas of the musical arts scene.
Before ultimately dedicating her life to helping her husband, Helfgott was an astrologer and numerologist. She also wrote “The New York Times” best-selling autobiography, “Love You to Bits and Pieces: Life with David Helfgott”, which shared her life journey with the world.
An irrefutable lover of music, Helfgott continued to support the industry wherever she could in her hometown of Bellingen, including her promotion of the 80-strong Bellingen Youth Orchestra and the annual Camp Creative festival which eventually garnered some international success.
Gillian Helfgott played a vital role in relaunching her husband’s career, firstly in Perth, followed by appearances in Denmark, Germany, Austria, Turkey, the US, Asia and Australia.
As his career progressed and he became a household name, Gillian conducted all his press interviews herself.
She passed away on August 16, 2022, aged 90.
“A vivacious, social and passionate woman, Gillian will be long remembered and treasured”, the family wrote.
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