Inspirations

How Southsea Made Me – By Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective

Holmes And WatsonWatson, there is no doubt that the elements for Conan Doyle’s greatest creation can be found in his account of his life in Southsea. A scientific character study performed on the great man from the moment he set foot in Portsmouth, reveals distinct elements in his personality – elements that combine with the accidents of everyday life in this town to lead Conan Doyle to create something extraordinary. And when I say “something extraordinary”, I mean, of course, me.

Consider the circumstances on that fine day in June 1882 in which he stepped off the Irish steamer from Plymouth on to Clarence Pier, and surveyed the busy scene around him. There is no doubt he was a young, bull-headed gentleman of most definite principle. He had thrown over his previous post as a physician in Plymouth because of differences of opinion with Dr Budd, his partner in the surgery. He considered Dr Budd to be a scoundrel who tricked his patients into paying for massive prescriptions. He would have nothing to do with him – and it was his independence of mind that brought him to our city, and to that bustling beach at the west end of  Southsea’s waterfront.

A Study In Scarlet by Arthur Conan Doyle

When he arrived, he had only 10 pounds in his pocket but great resources in his mind and in his body.

Now Watson, what can we deduce from his first actions in the island city? Let me elucidate them for you. He left his luggage at the pier, caught a tram into Old Portsmouth and found himself temporary lodgings in the poorer part of the city – driving down the price for the week from 13 shillings to 10 and sixpence.  And what do we make of the fact that he then walked back to the pier and paid a porter to walk his luggage back to his new digs?

The answer is simple, Watson! He was not wealthy. Using a porter rather than a taxi saved him fourpence. What we see here is a young man willing to use his initiative, tight for money and keen to make the most out of the opportunities the city would afford.


Holmes And BaritsuOnce installed, Dr Conan Doyle notes in his “Stark Munro Letters” that he went out to hear a band playing in a park, and happened upon a man beating his wife in the streets. His sense of justice is revealed by the fact that he stepped in, to prevent the man attacking his wife further, and became embroiled in a street brawl with the gentleman. Notice, too, just like me, that Dr Conan Doyle was physically unafraid – and was also an accomplished boxer. Notice, however, that unlike me, he was not a bare knuckle fighter, nor an exponent of the Japanese art of Baritsu.

How well he might have fared against this fellow is a matter of conjecture, since a wild punch thrown by his opponent landed on a passing sailor, who stepped in and took over from the good Doctor. One could almost imagine, Watson, that in this department, my prowess with my fists is an amplification of his own abilities with boxing.

Benedict Cumberbatch as Sherlock HolmesSo, now we build a profile of the man. He has spirit. He has nerve. He has morals, scruples and initiative. These, I suggest to you, are excellent qualities to get on in life.

Next, we come to his practical cast of mind. The following day, Conan Doyle purchased a map of the city and began to bisect it with lines that would be the most efficient means of walking the entire length and breadth of the city.

Note, Watson, that there was a very particular reason for this. He was a doctor, Holmes In Silhouettejust as you are. But because doctors were not allowed to advertise, there was no way he could find out where his rivals were located without acquainting himself with the city personally.

He could also discover which parts of the city would be good for business, which roads to avoid and which properties were empty.

Note, too, how Conan Doyle found a residence at No 1 Bush Villas, on Elm Grove, Southsea. It served the wealthier clients of Castle Road, as well as the artisan properties to the north of Elm Grove. It provided a varied social milieu, and just as I do, it meant that the Doctor mixed with all classes.

Sherlock Holmes The SleuthThen there are the dramatic and the macabre elements in Conan Doyle’s arrival in Southsea. When he first became the tenant of Bush Villas, Conan Doyle was faced immediately with a bizarre scene in the cellar of his new dwelling. Piles of human jawbones – yes Watson! – human jawbones were stacked in the semi-darkness! It was a scene worthy of one of his own entertainments. But Conan Doyle soon solved the mystery. The previous incumbent was a dentist, and he had left his casts behind on absenting the property.

Dr Conan Doyle’s time in Southsea was similar to my own life in other ways. For example, he used a pseudonym at times, just as I have been known to do. When he played football, as the goalkeeper for Portsmouth Amateur Football Club, he went under the name of “A C Smith”, lest it became known that a gentleman was playing a game more commonly associated with the lower classes.

He was also one for turning fortune in his favour and for quick thinking. An accident in the road outside his struggling practice he quickly attended. He checked over the gentleman who had fallen from his horse and sent him on his way. After which he sent in a report of the accident and his heroic intervention to The Evening News, thus securing him free advertising, which he was otherwise prevented from doing, as an MD.

A Classy HolmesHe mixed with the higher stratas of society at the Cricket Club and  Bowling Club, and became friends with The Lord Mayor of Portsmouth. And it might well be that he read an article in the Evening News involving an investigation being run by a Chief Inspector Sherlock. How much, indeed, Portsmouth gave to the young Dr Conan Doyle!

So, Doctor Watson, do you see now how the elements of his life in Portsmouth combined together to make me who I am? And can you see how, if he had come to a different city, I might well have been quite a different fellow?

Or would I?

An interesting  conundrum, Dr Watson, and most definitely a three pipe problem!

Paul Daniels – A Little Bit of Magic

Matt Wingett reviews Paul Daniels at The King’s Theatre, Southsea, 22nd February 2012.

Paul Daniels was, when I was a lad, something of a hero of mine.

I liked his funny patter, I liked his smooth magic, and of course, when I was an adolescent I loved seeing his beautiful assistant “the lovely Debbie MacGee” getting tied up in scanty clothing, only to mysteriously emerge without explanation in another part of the room.

So when it came to seeing Paul at the King’s Theatre Southsea, I couldn’t resist.

The fact was though, that I went along with some doubts. Would he still have the magic? And what had happened to him in the intervening years? Somehow, he had crashed out of public life – suffering a humiliating series of vicious attacks from a British media intent on knocking down anyone who got too popular. Stories had circulated of his arrogance, and there was a continual dig at the fact that he wore a wig, which supposedly showed he was vain. It was petty, and it was stupid – but somehow after the Press did their worst, he sort of withered away.

The question was: could he still cut the mustard – and then make it disappear?

Making a definite virtue of his hairpiece in the name of his new show “Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow” was cheeky and funny, but also strangely telling, considering how this ridiculous brouhaha about a wig seemed to have overshadowed this top performer’s reputation in the 80s.

With that “hang the journalists” attitude implied in the show’s name, I have to say that the first half of the show did look like Paul was on the back foot. The audience was disappointingly scanty for one of the top performers of the 1980s, with perhaps a 100 people in the massive King’s Theatre. This certainly didn’t help the ambience.

Paul himself seemed subdued, and started off reiterating the point that he never really cared about his wig in the way the papers had implied – he came on sporting one, in order to make fun of it. It was a strange opening. To me, he seemed to be fighting an old fight that was long gone, and his continued barbs at the Press throughout the show implied that he’d been “got at” more than his “It was never important to me” implied.

The first half sputtered along unevenly. He did a nice levitation routine, and disappeared some handkerchiefs – but really it was all rather pedestrian. The guest appearance by Kev Orkian, an Armenian illegal immigrant who was a genius on the piano was spirited – but he had to work hard to get this small audience to respond. Which, actually, he did.

There were moments where Paul’s personality shone through. His kindness to Jen and her little boy Cas in the audience was really endearing, and he managed to win the audience over. Nevertheless, by the end of the first half, I was approached by one guy who said that he was disappointed thus far.

The second half, though, was a very different matter. Paul’s magical effects increased and there was a definite reigniting of the old magic. His quips with the audience were on the money, and very funny, and the comedy added an extra twist all the way.

Then something extraordinary happened. Paul took it to a level in which – half way between supposedly messing up tricks, he appeared to hypnotise two volunteers from the audience, with no explanation and no induction.

It is possible that they were stooges, but I like to think they weren’t. They were very believable and one, being a street cleaner and the other an employee in Game in Pompey, it should be pretty easy to verify.

The effects built one on another, with signed playing cards appearing from nowhere, a lovely running gag about a £20 note, and a series of befuddling, funny tricks that really got everyone thinking.

Did he hypnotise, or didn’t he? How did he get that note hidden away?

If the measure of a magician is in the way that people continue to ask questions after the show, then I would say that Paul still has the old magic. I am scratching my head even as I write! It was good to see his kindly, funny show of the old school.

It wasn’t just nostalgia. Yes, this is a great show to see!

Simon Callow Shines At Portsmouth’s New Theatre Royal, 7th Feb 2012

One of the leading actors of his generation, Simon Callow has had a long and fruitful relationship with Charles Dickens, as his audience at The New Theatre Royal, Portsmouth discovered, on 7th February 2012 – the 200th anniversary of Dickens’s birth, less than a mile from where the theatre stands.

From his first encounter with Dickens at the age of 7 via A Christmas Carol – a story which admittedly frightened him white – Dickens always impressed.

However, it was chickenpox that reintroduced the 13-year-old Callow to the diminutive giant of English Literature, when he was laid up in bed with the virus.  “That mediaeval torture was unbearable, with the need to scratch and scratch,” he told his audience. And scratch he did, until his grandmother intervened by placing a copy of The Pickwick Papers in his hands.  “After that,” Callow announced with a theatrical flourish worthy of Dickens himself, “I scratched no more.”

Simon Callow
Simon Callow, who delivered a fascinating talk about Charles Dickens, at Portsmouth's New Theatre Royal, on 7th February 2012

At the beginning of his talk, Callow announced that he had been invited to attend a service at Westminster Abbey, and a dinner at Mansion House – but there was nowhere he would rather be than here, on Dickens’s birthday. Which of course, got the Portsmouth audience cheering, no end.

Callow went on to describe his connection with Dickens in his early years as an actor. He recalled how, as a 27-year-old appearing in A Christmas Carol in Lincoln, he got to play both Fezziwig and Bob Crachitt. He described unexpectedly disappearing down an unsecured trapdoor dressed as Fezziwig, and after losing his wig in the 14 foot fall, re-emerging in front of a stunned and somewhat confused audience of children as Bob Cratchitt.  He talked of finding out about Dickens’s punishing reading tour, which eventually contributed to the writer’s early death, and brought his tale right up to date with his talk of his appearance as Dickens in an episode of Dr Who alongside David Tennant and Billy Piper.

Of Dickens’s theatrical obsession, his stage-struckness, his am-dram performances put on at his home, attended by Queen Victoria, the Lord Chancellor and half the Cabinet – Callow spoke eloquently. From his first flirtation with the theatre before he went on to become a clerk in a law firm through his performances of plays such as The Frozen Deep, co-written with his friend Wilkie Collins, his work as a director of plays and his invention of ingenious gas lighting effects to recreate the dawn, and of sound effects produced by ethereally playing a piano several rooms away – Dickens’s obsession with the stage was total.

In fact, Dickens’s whole life seemed to be dominated by his need for public performance, and it was his forcing himself to appear at his readings against his doctor’s advice that eventually led to his dying of, essentially, overwork.

It was perhaps surprising that Callow, whose life has been so intimately wrapped up with Dickens, had never before been to the city of his birth. But he made up for it, was fulsome in his praise of the City’s vibrant and spontaneous approach to the bicentenary -and at the end of his talk, the audience reciprocated – continuing to applaud until he took to the stage again, and bowed – not with the theatricality of Dickens, but with something that was very much more Simon Callow: a slight, humble bow.

Simon Callow’s new book “Dickens” is available from Waterstone’s, Commercial Road, Portsmouth, and other good booksellers, and online.

Charles Dickens: A Ball In Commemoration Of His Birth, Where It All Began, 6th February 2012

On a cold night on 6th February 1812, Mrs Elizabeth Dickens, heavy with child, attended a Naval ball, accompanied by her husband, John, at the Old Beneficial School building, Portsea.

The Old Beneficial School, Portsea.
The Old Beneficial School, Portsea.

Not far from the high walls of the thriving dockyard, the Old Beneficial School was a rare architectural gem in an area of squalid housing inhabited by artisan dockyard workers, alehouse keepers, tradesmen and prostitutes.

We cannot know what music was played and what little dramas and intrigues were entered into inside the Old Benny’s walls that night. But one thing of note happened, whose impact echoes around the world.

On that night, Mrs Elizabeth Dickens went into labour, and was rushed by carriage from The Old Benny along the streets of Portsea to nearby Number 1 Mile End Terrace, Landport, where she gave birth to her son, Charles, the following day.

The Hampshire Regency Dancers recreate the ball in which Charles Dickens decided it was time to come into the world!
The Hampshire Regency Dancers recreate the ball in which Charles Dickens decided it was time to come into the world!

Two centuries later, on the anniversary of that very night, another ball was held in the same building, including a gentleman dressed as a naval officer, another as a soldier – and plenty of women in bright cotton Empire Line dresses reviving the past for a few brief hours – and celebrating Portsmouth’s most famous son.

Charles Dickens, son of Portsmouth
Charles Dickens, son of Portsmouth

The staff of The Groundlings Theatre, along with the Hampshire Regency Dancers, who instructed the attendees in the art of period dancing, made a fabulous job of it.

Considering Dickens’s love of the theatre, how right that the Old Benny is now a theatre, dedicated to the performing arts.

Dickens would have loved it. He would have loved the brilliant acting of the kids who put on a short piece on the novels of Dickens – performing the books “both forwards and backwards at ten lines a novel!” He would have been delighted by the acting of the strict schoolmistress and her pupils in the “schoolroom” upstairs, and would have revelled in the spirit and comedy of the shows in the bar.

This was a great evening. It serves to remind the people of Portsmouth something we should be proud of. Over the coming weeks, the extraordinary imagination of Charles Dickens will be celebrated by nations the world over who have never seen his mother country, let alone the city of his birth. Films will be watched, books read, stories told to children, radio plays listened to and plays performed…

…But here, right here, in this street, in the seething, jostling, dirty, alive and vibrant alleys of the Portsea of two centuries ago – this is where all of it started. If we learn one thing from that birth, it’s this – it’s possible for anyone, no matter where they come from to feel that they, too, can have great expectations…

The After-Effect of Paul McKenna – and Relearning Skills

The strange thing about having Paul McKenna hypnotise me to get me writing again was that my creative power was out of control. I had this unregulated emotion to write, which over the last 4 years I have been honing into a skill. I have just finished rewriting The Tube Healer – the story I wrote after he worked on me. I have to say that I am now satisfied with this. It took time to relearn the skill. It is better than it ever was, now.

This I think is really important in the work you do with hypnosis and NLP. What it does is switch on the desire to do what you want to do again. It doesn’t necessarily make you brilliant at it – it doesn’t teach you the skills. But it gives you the emotional drive to be fascinated enough to want to improve – to work with the skills that you have – and to improve them over time.

There is still hard work to be done after being motivated by NLP. It is just that after it, you feel that the work you are doing is not hard. It is enjoyable. That is my experience of the way NLP works.

This, I think is one of the key things that people leaving Prac courses don’t get: that there is still a whole load of application, skill building and work to be done after the course. You may believe that you are a genius at NLP, but you will also need to build up and acquire real experience before you become really competent at it.

What you have learned is a whole series of attitudes and beliefs that will help you on that journey.

Audition With The Three Belles More Than I Expected

Yesterday I had the most interesting, amazing and slightly bizarre experience. After years of doing no acting whatsoever, I went for an audition with the lovely Three Belles.

The Three Belles, doing their thing

For those of you who don’t know them yet, The Three Belles are a retro / vintage singing group who formed at Portsmouth Uni.  Ambitious, smart, funny and very focussed, they have gone on to make their livings from gigging all over the country.  And in Portsmouth Guildhall later this year, they are going to take the show to the next level, with a full evening of dance and musical entertainment from the 1940s.  Which means they need character actors to fill in and add to the feel of the night.

Hence the audition.

For me, it was the strangest thing to be doing.  I haven’t done any acting for over 25 years, and I had no idea what to expect of myself.  At the audition, there were plenty of young, talented people who really knew their stuff, and could dance and sing.  Like Tom, with his beard and his charming smile,  Tamzin with  her big red hair,  Sophie with trim figure and a kind of marvellous presence, and the effervescent Nathalie – who is producing Die Fledermaus at the King’s Theatre.

The set piece I did for the audition, went okay, I think.  But then there was the recall.  I learned a lot about myself in that recall.  I learned I am completely unafraid of making an arse of myself, which came as a surprise.  I found that I really enjoyed myself immensely.  And I also discovered that I really need to work more on improvisation in a group setting.  It’s in me – it’s just getting hold of it quickly.  That is something I’m going to have to really work on.

It was also a massive discovery to see The Three Belles running an audition.  Wow.  There’s a reason those women (I keep calling them “girls” but it’s just wrong.) are making a go of their careers in singing and acting.  It’s because they are serious and deeply dedicated to it.

For anyone looking at how people who get on really do it, there are massive lessons to be learned from those three.  As for the lessons I learned, whether I get a part or not, I have decided:

  1. I will act more
  2. I will learn to improvise more – that is a weakness I’ve got.
  3. I have so much to learn from those other actors.
  4. I will write more stories about The Three Belles (I have already written a novella about them)

Watch this space for more news on how the show progresses – if I am lucky enough to be picked!

And The Next Version Of The Cover For The Tourist – by Matt Wingett

Well, now I am a little tired of all the re-designs I’ve made for this cover, so this is going to be the last one. Having had to replicate a series of effects I had done on an earlier image, I then saved the Photoshop doc as a thumbnail size, and can’t reverse it.  So, if I want to make further changes, I will have to go back to the original document and replicate the changes again… Enough!  This will do for now!

The Latest Design of the cover - which was far more trouble than I expected!
The Latest Design of the cover - which was far more trouble than I expected!

A Cover for The Tourist – A Portsmouth Horror Story

Below you’ll find the provisional front cover of my latest e-book – The Tourist. This is a freebie that I’m giving away, and is a ghost story set around Portchester Castle. I found the engraving in a pile of pictures I bought at auction, and thought a little bit of colouring would be absolutely perfect!

The Tourist Cover
Put together from an engraving of Portchester Castle, from 1772