My Fairy Godmother

An ongoing project of mine at the moment is sifting through a big box of photos that I’ve accumulated over the past 50 years and trying to do something more meaningful with them.

In practical terms that means consigning many to the bin; the fuzzy ones, the did-I-really-look-like-that ones, and the what-the/where-the-heck-is-that ones.  The survivors are being hacked and, given that I have the creative skills of a 5 year old, stuck haphazardly with Pritt (those sticks don’t last long, I can tell you) onto sheets of cheap A4 copier paper in montage style.  They are then being scanned into My Pictures.  Hundreds of memories from the past dragged into the digital age, while the physical sheet gets re-filed into a much smarter, smaller box for a more organised posterity.

Two photographs didn’t quite fall into any of the other recurring montage themes (son/holiday/era/boyfriend/horse).  They are of my Godmother, a certain Nora Mitchell, formerly Gruhn who, legend had it, was a once famous soprano opera singer.

This was my pretty much ‘fairy Godmother’ whom I only remember meeting two or three times in my entire life, but who holds a special place in my heart.

She was the rich lady who lived in LONDON (well, Surrey) and who faithfully sent, without fail, the best presents every Christmas and birthday of my childhood.  My first silk scarf, my first (and fantastic) make-up set – by Mary Quant no less, nail varnish sets, manicure sets, Christian Dior stockings and so on.  Always beautiful and never cheap.  Dutifully I wrote twice yearly thank you letters, grateful and in awe of this mysterious lady behind the exciting brown parcel packages.

Recently I heard Mum explaining to someone about Nora, and though it was a story I vaguely remembered,

it touched me to hear it again.  I asked her to recount it again for me in an email and so these are her words:

“We met Nora in 1963 when we were on a music trip to Saltzburg and Vienna and I was three months pregnant with you.  We travelled by train and ferry then train again.  Nora and I shared an overnight sleeper – in those days ladies and gentlemen were segregated.  She “adopted” us on that holiday and christened you (unborn) Marmaduke.  We kept in touch after the holiday and when you were born sent us a telegram saying “Congratulations on your Marmaduchess”.   She eventually became your Godmother and we were in touch until her death.”

The gory details of Nora’s support through Mum’s morning sickness have thankfully been omitted from this account.

Mum and Dad met up with her once or twice a year for opera trips to Covent Garden, and I met Aunty Nora on special occasions including her 90^th, by which time she was living in a care home.

After unearthing the photos I decided to look her up on Google and was excited to find some images and references to her, including these from the 1930s BBC Proms archive:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/proms/archive/search/performers/nora-gruhn/1

Although I failed to inherit my parent’s passion for opera, something about that pre-birth trip to Saltzburg must have seeped into my DNA. I do like classical music (of the dumbed down Classic FM variety) and Mozart is my firm favourite. Despite my rockabilly uncle’s attempts to convince me otherwise, as a toddler I knew from Dad that ‘the King’ was “Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart” and that’s a conviction that has grown with age. Dan as a very young baby was noted tapping his foot in his baby carrier to the Horn Concerto, so though he may not know it yet, perhaps it’s in his make-up too. Thank you, Aunty Nora.

Post-script:

After writing this blog, I was delighted to be contacted some months later by a former pupil of Nora’s, Ann Brown, who shared her own memories of her as follows:

I first met Nora in 1965 after I had moved to Caterham on my marriage in 1963.   I joined a local choir and a fellow soprano said I should have my voice trained and introduced me to Nora.   I never looked back.   I still had lessons with Nora after we moved to Leatherhead and then to Bognor Regis by which time I had become a regular performer with a local touring Opera Company based in Chichester.   I loved Nora to bits – she was a Mother Superior type confidante and we shared many hilarious moments.   I often stayed with her at weekends if she was putting on a special concert with her beloved opera group.   In 1990 my husband’s firm moved us to North Yorkshire and we have lived ever since in Nidderdale – Birstwith village between Harrogate and Pately Bridge and we love it here.   We are on the move again but only locally as our cottage and garden are now too much for us to manage and I have severe arthritis so not greatly mobile although I think a pair of new knees may be on the agenda this year.  Nora coached me in many operatic roles including both the Countess and Susanna in Figaro, Donna Anna in Giovanni, Despina in Cosi, Gretel in Hansel and Gretel, Dorinda in Handel’s Orlando to name but a few.   I also loved my lieder sessions with her and particularly loved to sing Richard Strauss as well as French and Spanish repertoire. A fantastic and charismatic lady.

And subsequently, Genevieve Usher contacted me with her recollections:

Nora was a very important part of my singing. When I married I moved to Coulsdon and was introduced to Nora. She was a wonderful, kind, though strict teacher and got the best out of her pupils. She had a little dog called Mitzi who she cooked ox hearts for. On one lesson she forgot they were boiling away, I eventually said something is burning and she had a charred pan! I did not know then she had no sense of smell. I have lots of memories of Nora, most especially of the parties she held at her home for her pupils. We all brought some food and sang to each other. I remember two of her pupils well, Barbara and Myra and there was one other whose name escapes me, all are in her 90th birthday photo. I am still singing both abroad and in the UK, so owe a lot to Nora for building a good foundation on which to grow.

 

 

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