My Name is Not Wigs!

Angela Cobbin

Description

An enthralling journey through time, fashion and theatreland: from hairdressing student in the early 1960s to theatrical wig creator for the biggest shows of our time over five decades - from the West End to Broadway - Box Brownie to Cinemascope. My Name Is Not Wigs is the ultimate read for fans of witty behind-the-curtains memoirs, especially those with a penchant for the bright lights of stage and screen: tears and accolades aplenty!'A unique backstage story - honest and good-humoured, like the author.' - Sir Ian McKellen'A glorious cavalcade of theatrical gossip and professional achievement in a department of our profession that largely goes unsung.' - Frances de la Tour'A wonderful read and so well written with plenty of fascinating stories.' - Sir Michael Gambon

Sujets

• Philosophie et théologie
• Memoir

Informations

• Publié par: Distributed by eBookpartnership
• Date de parution: 11 novembre 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781839523489
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

‘This is an entertaining insider’s view of the world of wigs, full of intriguing observations and arresting memories of a fascinating career and a well-lived life.’ Sir Richard Eyre
‘This fascinating book brought back such unforgettable memories. Not only was Angie wonderful at her job but she had a passion for the theatre.’ Dame Judi Dench
‘At last, a theatre book by one of the heroic tribe of backstage geniuses who actually make the theatre happen. Angie Cobbin is one of the all-time great wig-makers. Her book is charming, sometimes moving, often funny, and offers a unique insight into a craft and an art that has rarely been described before, and never with such affectionate warmth.’ Simon Callow
‘A unique backstage story – honest and good-humoured, like the author.’ Sir Ian McKellen
‘A glorious cavalcade of theatrical gossip and professional achievement in a department of our profession that largely goes unsung.’ Frances de la Tour
‘A wonderful read and so well written with plenty of fascinating stories’. Sir Michael Gambon
§§§
‘This is an entertaining and accessible book for theatre lovers and fans. Angela Cobbin takes the reader on sprightly caper from her beginnings as a teenage hairdressing assistant in Brighton to becoming one of the most eminent wig making experts of her generation.’ Anna Furse, Theatre Director and Writer, Professor of Theatre and Performance, Goldsmiths, University of London

First published 2021
Copyright © Angela Cobbin 2021
The right of Angela Cobbin to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the copyright holder.
Published under licence by Brown Dog Books and The Self-Publishing Partnership Ltd, 10b Greenway Farm, Bath Rd, Wick, nr. Bath BS30 5RL
www.selfpublishingpartnership.co.uk

ISBN printed book: 978-1-83952-347-2 ISBN e-book: 978-1-83952-348-9
Cover design by Kevin Rylands Internal design by Tim Jollands
Printed and bound in the UK
This book is printed on FSC certified paper

OTHER WORK BY THIS AUTHOR Angela’s Footsteps , poems and ditties, 2018
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank Martin and Janine Lake, Keith Parker, Alyson Wilson, Paddy and Tricia French for all their encouragement and good advice. Barry Hall, Dana Kubick, Diana and Ruby Maskell, Rosy Runciman (Archivist CML), Biddy Hayward and Erin Lee for their time and generous help with the photographs, Alodie Fielding for her work on the cover illustration. I would also like to thank the production team, Douglas Walker, Frances Prior-Reeves and Tim Jollands at Self-Publishing Partnership and Helen and Rachel at LiterallyPR. Finally my husband George for his patience and fortitude without whom this book would not have left the PC.
To my parents and everyone in the Biz!
Contents
Acknowledgements
1. Early Days
2. 1961 – The Apprentice
3. Another String to My Bow
4. Nathans and the Second Apprenticeship
5. Madame Tussauds Waxworks
6. The Royal Opera House or ROH
7. The National Theatre and Exciting Opportunities
8. 1982 – Denver, Colorado, USA
9. A Change of Pace
10. Teaching and Touring
11. The Parting of the Ways
12. There’s No Stopping Me Now
13. Musicals All the Way
Glossary
Appendix of Plays, Musicals, Films and TV
Index
Picture Acknowledgements
ONE
Early Days

My first gong!
This theatre showbiz thing should not have happened to me. My sister and I were steered away from any ideas to do with it; not that we had ever entertained the thought. Our parents had been professional dancers in the theatre back in the day. My mother did tap-dancing and ballroom; she also rode elephants in the circus and appeared as a ghost in pantomime. She had been taking her dance finals when the Second World War broke out and so immediately joined the ATS (Auxiliary Territorial Service, the women’s branch of the British Army). I remember her telling me that she had been called for an audition by the ATS Entertainments Section at such short notice and having no time to change, she had to tap-dance in her army boots managing to pass the audition with flying colours.


ABOVE AND OPPOSITE Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast, Albert Hall, 1931.
My father was an adagio dancer, which is a form of acrobatic dancing. In 1931 he was cast in a leading role as the handsome warrior Pau-Puk-Keewis in the famous production of Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast by Coleridge-Taylor at the Royal Albert Hall, conducted by Sir Malcolm Sargent. Later he formed a troupe of six dancers – two to throw and two to catch – who would throw a couple of girls one over the other in mid-air across the stage in a very artistic and balletic fashion. They enjoyed considerable success in the UK and abroad during the 1930s. I was to learn much later that over the years Dad had used several different titles for the dance troupe, beginning and ending with The Vadim Trio, which was a comedy act. This was followed by the Six Marvels, the Continental Six, and the Georgian Quartet when they performed in France and Germany. He was in Germany before the onset of the Second World War and was asked to perform before Adolf Hitler but they were not allowed to wear their usual costumes. These were beautiful long, loose-sleeved shirts gathered at the wrist and broad-waisted cummerbunds above their britches. Their white wigs were tied back with a dark silk bow but they were ordered to appear in front of Hitler wearing the brown-coloured shirts of the storm troopers. Of course this was long before my sister and I had arrived on the scene.


ABOVE AND OPPOSITE My father, Eric Vadim, performing with his adagio dance troupes: the Vadim Trio (Eric on the left), the Georgian Quartet and the Six Marvels.
On his return to Britain at the outbreak of war, Dad worked on the land as a farmer, losing contact with most of his fellow dancers, but later the Vadim Trio was formed once again using just one girl dancer for the two gentlemen to artistically throw about. Much later on he was ably assisted by my mother who, no longer being in the ATS, was still playing the odd ghost or two in pantomime. This title of the Vadim Trio is the name I mostly remember because they used to practise with me. I hasten to add that I was only eight or nine at the time and a lot smaller than I am today, though very acrobatic.
The fact is, that by the time I was ten years old they never knew where the next job was coming from, and before this they had often been on tour in seasonal shows living out of a suitcase in what were known as ‘Digs’ (boarding rooms), like so many in the performing arts. Sometimes they would have to take part-time employment elsewhere, such as work at the post office, sorting letters in the run-up to Christmas, where they often met the same people each year and quite a few from a theatrical background. This was the main factor in them wanting their children to have more stable careers because theirs had been too insecure.

My mother Eve as Principal Boy in panto 1936.
I was four years old and my sister Pip was seven when we were sent away to Seaford Ladies College, a boarding school for young ladies. I recall Miss Philips, one of the teachers who used to take us for music, dancing and would you believe it, deportment. There were six girls in my class, the average age being five. It must have been the very first wig I’d ever seen on anyone because Miss Philips’s hair looked odd and I was fascinated by the hairnet that adorned it – covered in little velvet brown bows. During the dance class she played the piano, while we all skipped around the room, then the moment she stopped playing, we had to fall down flat to the floor. ‘Relax, gels,’ she would say, ‘relax!’

Myself on left and Vanessa, boarders at Seaford Ladies College, 1951.
She would then come down from her platform and having a limp she used a stick, which made her approach sound like the pirate Long John Silver. She’d pick up the spread-eagled arm of one of us, where we lay there in trepidation, only to let it go crashing back to the floor. Like the others I always hoped that she wouldn’t pick on me but when she did, I tensed my arm so that when it dropped, it wouldn’t hit the floor so hard. ‘Relax, gel, relax!’ she’d say. There was no escaping her; she would just pick the offending arm up again only to repeat the exercise. The reward for her endeavours was many a bruised elbow.
I did, however, manage to spend one half term in the sick bay with my new friend Vanessa: we both had the chicken pox. I learned to knit on four needles, roller-skate and play Shipwreck (a game of pirates) in the gymnasium, leaping on to the benches and wall bars without touching the floor – this was meant to be a sea full of sharks – but I learned little else. Morning assembly was taken every day before class and held in the gymnasium with all the teachers lined up on the stage in front of us.
On seeing the games teacher for the very first time, I noticed that he was quite thin and wiry and wearing khaki knee-length shorts. He had very curly hair that he wore very short, similar to the journalist Bernard Levin, and I was to learn a lot later that this haircut was called a short back and sides . We said good morning to each teacher in turn and I had always said ‘Good morning, Mr Hodson,’ to the games master, but after a few days I was told that he was in fact a she . At such a tender age and without question thereafter, I said, ‘Good morning, Miss Hodson.’
By 1955 Variety and the music halls were declining but it was quite a few years before that when my parents realised that they would have to stop touring, and for the very first time I began to feel more secure