Mrs. Kaye was my first teacher at primary school. A grand old dame of a character even then, she was exceedingly posh and far too talented to be teaching 5 year olds. She should have been the next Maggie Smith or Judie Dench: we were more than lucky to have her.
Even though I only stayed in her class for a couple of years, Mrs. Kaye played a big part in my early school days, not least because she WROTE and directed our annual school plays... and encouraged me into a starring role from early on. She cast me as Willy Wonka in Charlie & The Chocolate Factory, then Huckleberry Finn in Tom Sawyer... then finally Mr. Beever in The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe (yes, thank you, Leslie Nielsen). Not sure what quite happened with that last one. Perhaps my thesping skills were failing me as I grew older.
I've mentioned before how my schooldays were troubled times, but most of that trouble came in high school. My memories of junior school are largely glorious (although I know time has airbrushed some of the less pleasant ones away) and when I left at age 11, I said a tearful farewell to some of the best teachers I'd ever encounter. Mr. Ravenhill. Miss Howard. Miss Fielding / Mrs. Nutall. And Mrs. Kaye. (The less said about Mrs. Tebb the better, other than: she had it in for me.) And I didn't see any of them ever again...
...apart from Mrs. Kaye.
At 17, almost a year into the radio job, as it became apparent I sounded a bit TOO Yorkshire to be let on air as anything but a backroom boy, my mum somehow got in touch with Mrs. Kaye (who had since retired from school teaching) and discovered that she was now offering elocution lessons. For a few weeks then, besides hospital radio and my Saturday job, I took myself off to Mrs. Kaye's house to learn how to speak proper. I have few memories of those sessions beyond trying to read Keats's Ode To Autumn while softening my vowel sounds. And while Mrs. Kaye was never going to turn me into Lawrence Olivier, something of those lessons has stayed with me to this day. I can switch between the broad Yorkshire of my dad, and a softer, posher Yorkshire that has served me well in all manner of situations. I'll never lose the accent completely, but I can turn it down when it serves me well. Thanks, Mrs. Kaye.
20. Don Williams - Listen To The Radio
Another great artist we lost very recently, whom I've not had chance to say proper farewell to, was Don Williams. This is one of of my favourites from Don, and it fits this post pretty well, I reckon...
I try to find a way to explain to you
What's on my mind
And not sound so plain to you
But you'll realize if you'll close your eyes
The feelings my words can't show.
They're playing on the radio.
The story continues - Like you I had a strong (Scottish) accent when growing up but after living and working with practically no-one from Scotland from the age of 18, it kind of disappeared over the years.
ReplyDeleteHow lovely that your mum tracked down Mrs Kaye - She always had your back didn't she and glad to hear that junior school was at least, quite glorious. You've given me an idea for a post!
Forgot to mention that Don Williams is another of those artists (like Johnny Cash and Lee Hazelwood) that fall into the "deep voices I love" category - Missed the fact he had passed recently. RIP Don.
ReplyDeleteSo lovely that you had your Mrs Kaye. I don't think we always realise until a lot later how much of a lasting influence a good (and also a bad) teacher can have on us when we're so young. They're so important!
ReplyDeleteI'm intrigued by your accent - also Alyson's and that of others from various regions - as mine is so boring and Southern! Seems we are losing a few of the really broad local accents around the country, so long live yours....
Another stellar installment, Rol. Mrs. Kaye... what a keeper.
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