JANUARY 2021 Newsletter
Chairman Calling:
Good day members of Ems Valley u3a! I hope that each of you had a Christmas that you enjoyed – probably differently this year of course – and you were able to take advantage of the beautiful sunshine on that day. I also hope that, by the time you receive this newsletter, some of you will have been called for the vaccine. I want to wish you all a happy, healthy and increasingly better new year. Someone suggested that the words 2020 would eventually become an expletive – ‘I’ve just smashed my 2020 phone’ ……. I think that might be the only way we wish to remember that year!
My best of wishes to you all and looking forward to us all being able to meet in person again.
Anne
Line Dancing braves the tiers!
Gary Willard is determined to beat the virus “right out of here”! So he got the troops together for further sessions at the Church Hall! But was then beaten back to Zoom meetings again, just before Christmas! I’m not too sure which number this was, but it could just be ‘Country Girl Shake It For Me’ by Luke Bryan’ Check the lyrics: Hey girl, go on now! You know you've got everybody lookin'
Got a little boom in my big truck Gonna open up the doors and turn it up Gonna stomp my boots in the Georgia mud Gonna watch you make me fall in love Get up on the hood of my daddy's tractor Up on the tool box, it don't matter Down on the tailgate Girl I can't wait To watch you do your thing
Shake it for the young bucks sittin' in the honky-tonks For the rednecks rockin' 'til the break of dawn The DJ spinnin' that country song C'mon, c'mon, c'mon Shake it for the birds, shake it for the bees Shake it for the catfish swimmin' down deep in the creek For the crickets and the critters and the squirrels Shake it to the moon, shake it for me girl
Aw, country girl, shake it for me Girl, shake it for me Girl, shake it for me Country girl, shake it for me Girl, shake it for me Girl, shake it for me
WELL THERE WAS OBVIOUSLY TOO MUCH SHAK’IN ‘COS THEY QUICKLY BROUGHT IN TIER FOUR! ------
THE HIGHEST PLACE ON EARTH?
Mount Everest
Towering 29,029 feet in the air, the top of Mount Everest is the closest you can get to touching outer space while still standing on Earth!
THE LOWEST PLACE ON EARTH?
The Challenger Deep Trench It is the lowest known natural point in the world at 35,797 ft. below sea level at the bottom of the Mariana Trench. Only three people have ever made it to the bottom in a submersible, one of which was filmmaker James Cameron.
The World’s most populated city?
SHANGHAI At a whopping 24,150,000 permanent inhabitants Shanghai is the only city that is home to over 24 million people in one city.
The World’s least populated city?
Vatican City With a paltry population of 842, the city-state of Vatican City is the smallest city and state in the world.
The World’s most wealthy city?
Tokyo, Japan That tower might as well be made of gold since Tokyo tops the charts with a GDP of $1,520 billion, beating New York City by a mere $310 billion.
The World’s poorest City
Kinshasa, Congo It is the poorest city in the Democratic Republic of the Congo which is also the poorest country in the world, at a GDP of $55 billion. Many of its residents live on less $1 a day.
Good old Emsworth – I say! Editor
Art Appreciation look at Beryl Cook!
If you remember I mentioned that the Art Appreciation group had included some Beryl Cook paintings in with their Christmas offerings. Jill Gask and Reg Newnham submitted the paintings and the editor thought that this artist was worth a ‘stand alone’ article – so - who was Beryl Cook?
She was born in 1926 in Surrey. She left school at fourteen, showing little talent for painting and worked in a variety of jobs. Moving to London in 1943 Beryl became a showgirl in a touring production of ‘The Gypsy Princess’. She also worked in the fashion industry, which inspired her life- long interest in the way people dress and how they look.
Picture left is titled “The Conga”
In 1946 Beryl married her childhood friend John, who was in the Merchant Navy. When he retired from the sea they briefly ran a pub. Their son John was born in 1950, and the following year they left to live in Southern Rhodesia. This move was to prove a turning point for Beryl. One day she picked up some paints belonging to her son and started a picture. She enjoyed it so much she could not stop. She painted on any surface she could find, scraps of wood, fire screens, and in the case of ‘Bowling Ladies’, seen on the left, , on a breadboard. In 1963 the Cooks returned to England to live in Cornwall where Beryl began to paint in earnest. They moved to Plymouth, where in the summer months they ran a busy theatrical boarding house. Beryl loved Plymouth, a thriving, lively seaside town full of pubs, fishermen and sailors and she and John enjoyed going to their local bars and watching flamboyant drag acts. Beryl would concentrate on painting in the winter months, recreating her personal views of Plymouth in vivid oils on wooden panels. Eventually an antique dealer friend persuaded her to let him try and sell a few. To her surprise he sold them very quickly.
Bernard Samuels of the Plymouth Art Centre became aware of this ‘local phenomenon’ and in 1975 he finally convinced her to have an exhibition. The show received a great deal of publicity, which resulted in a cover and feature in the Sunday Times Magazine followed by a swift phone call from London’s Portal Gallery. The following year, Beryl Cook had her first London exhibition. It was a sell out and the start of an exceptional relationship with Portal, where she exhibited continuously for 32 years. Her paintings encapsulate joy; her style totally original, warm and so instantly recognisable that her work became part of our artistic vernacular. She possessed that rare gift – the power to uplift. Beryl travelled considerably, gleaning new material for her work, often discreetly sketching on small cards inside her handbag to be hidden from view. Based in her beloved Plymouth, she recorded local life with as much relish as that in Buenos Aries, New York, Cuba, Paris and Barcelona. The picture “The Tango” (left) would have been inspired by her time in the former.Though a late starter, Beryl completed over 500 paintings in her relatively short painting career.
“Percy at the fridge” is the title of the left hand picture.
She recorded all of our human frailties and the absurdities of human behaviour with her own unique vision. Beryl’s personality though, was in great contrast to her paintings. She was a shy and private person, often depicting the flamboyant and extrovert characters she would love to have been. She preferred to observe a crowd of people, her acute eye missing nothing. She recorded in minute detail scenes of everyday life and had an almost photographic memory.
The appeal of Beryl Cook’s paintings is their directness, exuberance and the instant laughter they create. Her characters are always enjoying themselves to the hilt. Beryl was the least pretentious of painters and an artist in the same tradition as Breughel, though perhaps via Donald McGill! She was described by Victoria Wood as ‘Rubens with jokes’.
In 1995 Beryl was made an OBE. However, she did not attend the official ceremony due to her shyness; instead she accepted the honour at a quieter ceremony in Plymouth the following year.
Pictured left is her “Line Dancing”. It might appeal to our Line Dancing Group!
The TV company Tiger Aspect made two half hour animated films of Beryl Cook’s irrepressible women who meet at Plymouth’s Dolphin Pub. ‘Bosom Pals’, has an all star voice cast, including Alison Steadman, Rosemary Leach and Timothy Spall, with Dawn French’s voice as Stella, the pivotal member of the pals. BBC One screened the comedies in February 2004.
Below is “The Wake” and this shows a nightmare scenario which she might have witnessed or been told about! In 2005 Channel 4 presented a short film of Beryl and her work, the first in 20 years! Beryl then appeared in ‘Art School’ on BBC 2 in 2006 and was also the featured artist in ‘The Culture Show’ in October 2006 The news of Beryl Cook’s sad death in May 2008 was universally greeted with immense sadness and overwhelming tributes were printed in National, International and Local Newspapers, Television and Radio Stations from a multitude of collectors and fans alike. Her legacy will be everlasting, and her paintings are well enjoyed today. Thank you Reg Newnham and Jill Gask
A reminder that one word in the English language that can be a noun, verb, adjective, adverb and preposition. ‘UP’ A two-letter word in English has more meanings than any other two-letter word, and that word is 'UP.' It is listed in the dictionary as an [adv.], [prep.], [adj.], [n] or [v]. It's easy to understand UP, meaning toward the sky or at the top of the list, but when we awaken in the morning, why do we wake UP? At a meeting, why does a topic come UP? Why do we speak UP, and why are the officers UP for election and why is it UP to the secretary to write UP a report? We call UP our friends, brighten UP a room, polish UP the silver, warm UP the leftovers and clean UP the kitchen. We lock UP the house and fix UP the old car. At other times, this little word has real special meaning. People stir UP trouble, line UP for tickets, work UP an appetite, and think UP excuses. To be dressed is one thing but to be dressed UP is special. And this UP is confusing: A drain must be opened UP because it is stopped UP. We open UP a store in the morning but we close it UP at night. We seem to be pretty mixed UP about UP! To be knowledgeable about the proper uses of UP, look UP the word UP in the dictionary. In a desk-sized dictionary, it takes UP almost 1/4 of the page and can add UP to about thirty definitions. If you are UP to it, you might try building UP a list of the many ways UP is used. It will take UP a lot of your time, but if you don't give UP, you may wind UP with a hundred or more. When it threatens to rain, we say it is clouding UP. When the sun comes out, we say it is clearing UP. When it rains, the earth soaks it UP. When it does not rain for a while, things dry UP. One could go on and on, but I'll wrap it UP, for now . . . my time is UP! Oh . . . one more thing: What is the first thing you do in the morning and the last thing you do at night? U P Did that one crack you UP? Don't screw UP. Send this on to everyone you look UP in your address book. . . or not . . . it's UP to you. Now I'll shut UP! Tony Carter
Message from CAROLINE TILLEY, our recent RNLI Speaker Below is an email from Caroline who gave us the talk on the RNLI.
She has now completed her ride up Portsdown Hill (the Reindeer Run) and has asked if members could be thanked for their donations.
From: Caroline Tilley
CROQUET - To Play or not to play Just as the Croquet season was about to start this year we were locked down so it was “Not to Play “
As restrictions began to ease in June it seemed that play might be resumed so with advice from the Croquet Association, U3A and Fishbourne and Chichester Croquet Club we devised a way forward. All equipment was sanitised before we arrived and no entry to the Club House. If you needed the loo it was behind the hedge or keep your legs crossed!
Both Croquet groups joined together – the Croquet Club suggested we played singles weekly. This meant eight players plus two Coaches each week making a group of five on each Lawn. A Rota was drawn up. It soon emerged that this was not really working so we resorted back to doubles with members sworn to Socially Distance. Tactics were discussed at a distance instead of in a huddle – an advantage was NOT to be hard of hearing!!
We continued till the end of the Season which coincided with the second Lockdown. Our only problem being the weather – with the beautiful summer, IF it was going to rain it would on a Wednesday morning but such is the enthusiasm of the Group play continued unless it was a complete downpour. Unfortunately we were not able to hold our annual Tournament so Geoff and Susie were unable to defend their Title, there was no “end of Season” Social, due to restrictions.
Croquet has been an excellent sport in these extraordinary times – it is social, exercise and uses a little brain power!!
Roll on the Vaccine, roll on next Season!
If anyone is interested in joining us next Season please contact me through the website. Ann Newnham
Distance Drawing during COVID The Drawing Group has continued to meet during this COVID year but we have chosen to do this via a Whatsapp group. To some this may appear to be an odd way to communicate and it does not suit everyone but it seems to be working well for those of us who want to continue to draw despite being not able to meet. The idea of spending two hours on Zoom did not appeal so instead we set ourselves a theme and we all draw or paint and post photos of our progress and chat about what we are doing during the two hour Whatsapp sessions. There have been comments from some that we tend to ”chat” more than draw so instructions had to be given on how to mute the conversations from those who wanted to concentrate on their works! We are still able to benefit from the comments and advice that Penny Davies provides and we all try to encourage and give feedback to each other.
We have increased our meetings from monthly to fortnightly and the glory of Whatsapp is that we can continue to post photos of drawings we might continue to work on between sessions. Drawing from home we can keep dipping in and altering our drawings since they are always at hand. In the past some, like me, have been filled with good intentions but rarely looked at our drawings outside of the monthly meetings. Perhaps because we have more time to focus on our drawings we all agree there has been a general improvement especially in those of us whose efforts are not as brilliant as others in the group. Looking at the drawings produced by each other on Whatsapp we are more likely to ask how results have been achieved and can benefit from the different techniques used by each other.
We are principally a Drawing group but we recently seem to have ventured more into painting with the help sometimes of water colour pencils. A picture paints a thousand words they say, so below are some of our Christmas themed efforts produced by Adrian, Alison, Don, Jane, Janet, Joan, Karran, Penny and Marguerita.
Marguerita Taplin . Monday Drawing Group
Twelve Days of Christmas
On the first day of Christmas my true love said to me “I’ve bought a nice fresh turkey and a proper Christmas tree”
On the second day of Christmas much laughter could be heard As we tucked into our turkey, a most delicious bird.
On the third day of Christmas came the people from next door, The turkey tasted just as good as it had the day before.
On the fourth day of Christmas our snowman big and bold Looked in through the window as we ate our turkey cold.
On the fifth day of Christmas outside the snowflakes flurried But we were warm and snug inside, we had our turkey curried.
On the sixth day of Christmas the Christmas spirit died The children fought and bickered and we had the turkey fried.
On the seventh day of Christmas my true love he did wince When he sat down at the table and was offered turkey mince.
On the eighth day of Christmas the dog had run for shelter He’s seen our turkey pancakes and the glass of Alka-Seltzer.
On the ninth day of Christmas by lunchtime Dad was blotto, He knew the bird was back again, this time as a risotto.
On the tenth day of Christmas we were drinking homemade brew As if this wasn’t bad enough, we were eating turkey stew.
On the eleventh day of Christmas the Christmas tree was moulting, With chilli, soy and oyster sauce the turkey was revolting.
On the twelfth day of Christmas we had smiles upon our lips The guests were gone, the turkey too and we dined on - fish and chips.
Further Idiosyncrasies of the English Language Judi Milburn has obviously been dwelling on the recent article in this newsletter re the English Language! She now makes the following observations: When I saw the hare, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Because the practice was busy the receptionist asked the patients to practise patience. Due to a leak I had to spend time sealing the ceiling. Whilst out walking I needed to bow down to get under the bough of the trees. My father was farther away than I thought. In class the children were not allowed to talk aloud. On waking I heard the herd lowing. Is Mr Bean a has been? The more I walked the wetter the moor became. Being idle I simply looked at the idol from a distance. And not an original but borrowed from the internet: What do you say to the grammar police when upset? Their, There, They’re. Editor: unless things change soon, Judi is heading for the prize for the most contributions in the last twelve months, come on you others!
Reproduced from Jason Goodwin’s article in this month’s COUNTRY LIFE: Stargazing on clear nights is the privilege of country dwellers. I like a summery shooting star and lying on a rug, under a blanket, in the garden, to watch a meteor shower. I hate to miss a comet. We have a sheet of waxed calico, for hanging on a Victorian school wall, perhaps, which shows six phantasmagorical comets plunging across a dark background. One scatters golden dust; one seems to corkscrew through the sky; one is trailed by zigzags like Harlequin’s hat. ‘Comets are stars with flames like hair,’ wrote the Venerable Bede. ‘They are born suddenly, portending a change of royal power or plague or wars or winds and heat.’ We know best Halley’s Comet, which appeared on the eve of the Norman Conquest and was then stitched into the Bayeux Tapestry. In 1705, Edmond Halley, the Astronomer Royal, calculated that the comets reappearing every 76 years or so for centuries were one and the same, and correctly predicted its return. By then, he was dead. I managed to miss it in a London park in 1986 and I’m not betting on a second chance. Perhaps that’s no bad thing. Bede understood that comets can arrive unheralded, bringing disaster in their wake. Of 11 comets that appeared between 678 and 1114, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle associates nine with bad news, such as famine, revolt, invasion or Saint Wilfred quarrelling with King Ecgfrith of Northumbria. The last of them — ‘an uncommon star with a long train, shining many nights’ — was accompanied by an ebb tide that drained the Thames and ‘men went riding and walking over the Thames eastward of London Bridge’. Times being what they are, between current pestilence and quarrels of the great, I was hardly surprised when our friend Anne rang to tell us about a new comet that flashed by last week. It was only discovered in March, by Nasa’s Near-Earth Object Wide-field Infrared Survey Explorer. ‘I must go and look!’ Anne hails from Northumbria, like Bede, and her tone is authoritative, like the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. I suggested a nearby hilltop managed by the National Trust, with views over half the county, and the next day she ranged into the garden. ‘I arrived to find the place covered in parked cars,’ she said, with a certain emphasis. I was pleased by the idea that we country dwellers appreciate the clarity of the night sky and are attuned to the wonders of Nature and the cosmos. I ignored the emphasis. Anne gave me a withering look. ‘They were not looking at the stars,’ she said. ‘Not. At. All. You sent me dogging!’ ‘What?’ ‘You sent me to join a riot of it! I drove away and passed a police car with its lights flashing.’
I’m not very up on this pastime, but it seems to be popular in the hills and high places of the county. More popular than stargazing, although less dangerous than comets - for all I know.
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