Later that year Shirley gave birth to Samantha, and in the summer of 1964 returned twice, in August, to the Winter Gardens. As soon as I had knowledge of the engagements I applied for tickets and was fortunate enough to receive front-row seats for each concert. The format for both concerts had improved, as far as I was concerned, since the first half on both occasions featured a traditional jazz band.
The first concert, on 9 August, featured Acker Bilk and his Paramount Jazz Band. They had become the first British artists in years to reach the number-one spot in the American hit parade with ‘Stranger On The Shore’. The second concert, on 30 August, featured Kenny Ball and his Jazzmen, who again were respected jazz musicians. Both acts were introduced by a comedian who then returned to the stage at the start of the second half to tell a few jokes prior to introducing Shirley. With an audience hungry for Miss Bassey, the jokes were not very well received.
On both occasions, however, the jazz bands were well received – this was far better than having to sit through five dismal acts. Kenny Ball won the day and I think I can take a little credit for this. Remember the theatre’s lovely café arrangement? Well, during the afternoon of the concert, I had spoken to Kenny Ball in the café and asked if he would be playing ‘Samantha’, the song from High Society, with which Kenny and his Jazzmen had had a hit. He said he hadn’t intended to play the number, but when I told him Shirley’s new baby daughter had been given the name ‘Samantha’ he said he would see what they could do.
That evening Kenny Ball and his Jazzmen received a very warm reception from the Bournemouth audience and towards the end of their act, I called out ‘Samantha’. Kenny looked down at me, nodded and said to the audience, ‘I think you will like this one.’ As he started to sing ‘I love you, Samantha…’ the audience went wild. Kenny gained a few more fans that night.
When Shirley came onstage after the intermission, she looked wonderfully happy. The audience was going wild and I wasn’t the only one to jump to their feet. Shirley too had gained a few more fans of her own recently, thanks to her latest hit ‘I Who Have Nothing’, which had climbed high in the British charts. There I stood almost directly at Shirley’s feet, while she acknowledged the audience, then she looked down directly at me and smiled as if to say, ‘Sit down now, I’m ready to sing.’ Turning to the musical director, Shirley started to give a performance of her life. ‘Just One of Those Things’, ‘Fly Me to the Moon’, ‘Got A Lot of Living To Do’, ‘Johnny One Note’ and ‘All The Things You Are’ were probably included. I sat mesmerised, my senses trying to work overtime to record every detail. Shirley’s voice was incredible, especially now that I could hear its purity. No microphone was required where I sat; I was hearing pure Bassey. In fact I was so close I could even smell her perfume.
As the concert came to a close, the audience in their appreciation produced a thunderous sound by stamping their feet in unison on the theatre’s wooden floorboards. Then I was looking directly into those big brown eyes and shaking hands with the fabulous Miss Shirley Bassey. It’s a concert I will always remember.
Let’s just return to 1963 for a moment and I’ll let you know a little more about what it was like for me as a fan. Still at school, I wasn’t particularly academically minded but showed some talent at art and also enjoyed photography. Encouraged by my dad, a keen amateur photographer, who would develop and print his own black-and-white photographs at home, I shared an interest for black-and-white portraiture. Yet there were times when I wanted to add something more to the photograph. Perhaps I was aiming to capture a little of the subject’s soul and I felt this might be possible to achieve through drawing.
It’s perhaps not surprising I chose to start on a portrait of Shirley. I especially liked a photograph taken by a famous photographer, Vivienne, so with her photo as my reference I began using a variety of pencils and chalks with which I had been experimenting and developing styles of shading. This would be my first serious portrait and after some alterations I was very proud of the finished result. Naturally, my parents thought it was very good, so I decided to send the drawing to Shirley to ask if she would be kind enough to sign it and return it in the stamped addressed envelope I had enclosed. Looking back now at my drawing (yes I still have it), it wasn’t that good, but then I was young and had rather a lot of cheek!
After posting the package several weeks went by and I began to wonder if Shirley had seen the drawing; perhaps it had been lost in the post or even worse, what if Shirley didn’t like it! Fortunately my fears soon vanished when the postman delivered a recognisable large envelope. I attempted to open the envelope quickly yet carefully. As I gently pulled the drawing out from the envelope I saw, handwritten to one side, the words, ‘Best Wishes, Mary, Shirley Bassey’ and as if that wasn’t enough, enclosed was a letter. ‘I think you did a very good job and it must have been extremely difficult,’ wrote Shirley. I needed no further encouragement – now I would produce a drawing especially for Shirley.
All I needed was the right photograph from which to work. This was not as easy as it seemed since I wanted to base my drawing on an up-to-date image of Shirley singing. It took several months before I finally found the photo I required and it came to me with help from my dad. He would sometimes set up his camera to take a few photographs of the TV screen whenever Shirley made a television appearance so that I could have some images for my scrapbook. Dad always seemed to get good results, although some experimentation and a tripod were essential to make it possible. I had learned that Shirley was about to make a television ‘special’ for the launch of the new state-of-the-art, 625 line television station, BBC 2. Not only was I longing to view the show, scheduled for April 1964, but Dad promised he would try to get some good images from the television screen. The show went ahead and was a tremendous success, spotlighting Shirley’s exceptional talent. Dad had also produced the goods and I had a lovely photo of Shirley singing.
Most evenings, after dinner, the tablecloth would be removed from the dining table to reveal a heavier protective cloth on which I would place newspaper to protect the cloth from the fine chalk particles that would form as I worked on my drawing. Once I had pencilled in the detail lines, I worked in black-and-white Conté crayons and a range of grey chalks to help give a good tonal range to my larger-than-life drawing. Using what was called a fashion-plate board as my base, I would eventually cover every surface of the board with chalk to achieve the effect I desired. Even when pure white was required, I would still cover the area of white board with the white Conté, which was very hard to apply and could actually burn the paper layer if applied too vigorously.
Mum and Dad were always encouraging, watching, night after night, as the portrait began to emerge. I would draw starting at the top of the head and then gradually work down, not allowing myself to progress further until I was totally happy with the outcome, which meant ‘seeing Shirley’ before my eyes.
Once finished it was necessary to spray the drawing with a fixative to prevent smudging from the chalks. The fixative, which produced a smell not dissimilar to pear-drop sweets, also required time to dry, so this task was carried out in our back garden. There I was waving a large board back and forth, singing ‘’S Wonderful’, much to the amusement of Mum and our neighbours.
Dad said he would make a frame for the drawing, so the following Saturday we went to an art shop in Ilford to purchase the wooden frame we required. The drawing would be mounted under glass, so once the frame was made, Dad arranged to have a sheet of glass cut to the exact size, which we went to collect from a local supplier. It was a long walk home for Dad, grasping a large piece of glass under his arm, but he didn’t complain. That evening we polished the glass free of any marks or dust, and placed it carefully onto the frame. The drawing was then placed onto the glass, followed by hardboard backing which we then secured to the frame. As