This morning Brian showed us around Kingshill. It’s the site of the former RAF West Malling airfield which, like many Kent airfields, has an illustrious, if little known, history. You can read about RAF West Malling here. The airfield kept going until the late 1980s before succumbing to the inevitable fate of ‘redevelopment’. Kings Hill now reputedly boasts the highest average income and the highest proportion of households earning more than £ 100,000 in the UK. As we drove through the curiously unrooted housing estates (traditional flint facing one moment, clapperboard the next, modernistic one door, trad the next…) I was filled with a great wave of nostalgia for what had gone before for, doing the research for my poem, I had learnt all about Kingshill/RAF West Malling. I slipped one or two of the cultural references into my poem. Amy Johnson, among others, was a star guest to airshows in the 1930s. The Beatles filmed the Walrus sequence of Magical Mystery Tour on the runways. But there were others. Wing Commander Guy Gibson (of ‘Dambusters’ fame) served here (he considered it to be the ‘most pleasant’ of airbases), and Group Captain Peter Townsend (of Princess Margaret fame) was in command here. The latter’s office is preserved as part of the local council’s headquarters. Nothing somes up better the passage from an illustrious and romantic past to a more mundane and materialistic present than the fate of the Control Tower of the former airbase, as I hope my two images show. The Control Tower is a listed building and Brian is convinced that one day it will be restored. Let that day be soon…. By the way, there is footage on You Tube from one of the last airshows at West Malling:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yq8DI5jYb1E; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o3LnsSnTBqU; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YTYtdi8POBI; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pbqX0WIlJkU;

So, by popular request (ahem), here’s the poem. Each of the six stanzas addresses the themes Nigel addresses in each of the six movements of his composition. I’ve stuck footnotes in because there are a lot of local references.

What Hope Saw

1.

From the control tower[i] she gazed out on Kings Hill[ii]

And saw the Walrus[iii] dancing with Amy Johnson[iv] in the mist,

Whilst the crews of phantom squadrons[v] scrambled across the grass[vi]

Where All Muggleton and Dingley Dell[vii] played for posterity

On the back of a ten pound note[viii] as it changed hands

In West Malling’s flourishing market.[ix] 

2.

Looking down from Gundulf’s keep,[x] she wept as the market goers

Sneezed and bled[xi], dwindling down to fifteen[xii]

Desperate souls who’d ever mourn and say[xiii]

How prayer had saved them as the shadow moved on,

Leaving just four sisters to sing for deliverance.[xiv]

3.

She watched the hay bales graze in Old Kent’s stubbled jowl;

In winter, she saw the apple trees claw upwards from his chest to scratch

His sheep-maggoty cheeks. In spring, the farmers ploughed his chin

And talced his blue-ish skin with scattered seed[xv] so that each summer

His beard would grow and the altars fill with abundance.

4.

She smiled through the golden screens of hop tresses as the pickers

Supped and drank, sprawled on the Swan’s lawns[xvi] or astride its benches,

Happily distant from East End murk and stench.[xvii]

Through the night the brewer’s drays dragged their fragrant loads to Faversham,[xviii]

Where the flower cones tumbled into gurgling coppers.[xix]

5.

She lounged behind the boundary rope, sipping fresh scented summer ale,

And watched the shadows slowly stretch out to tickle her toes

As willow and leather and whites and wickets commingled

With sparrowed hedges, hollyhocked gardens and milk-bottled porches,

Whilst the shadows of spitfires and mosquitoes flitted overhead.

6.

She stood at the entrance to Ford House[xx] and watched Wyatt[xxi] drift fruitlessly

Back from Ludgate. She closed her eyes as the rebellion was crushed and Wyatt

Beheaded, but when she opened them again his lands had been returned,

The market was flourishing and the Abbey was rich in song and prayer,

A concert band played in the Tithe Barn,

And in history’s mirror she saw herself running, dove in hand, towards… hope.

 

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[i] The control tower, together with the officers’ mess and a few ‘H-blocks’, is all that is now left of West Malling’s former airfield.

[ii] The airfield is the site of a flourishing mixed development of residential and commercial properties – Kings Hill.

[iii] In 1967 the airport’s runways and hangars were used to film The Beatles’ Magical Mystery Tour, including the ‘I am a Walrus’ sequence.

[iv] During the 1930s, many airshows and displays were held at the airfield. Pioneering English aviatrix Amy Johnson was one famous visitor.

[v] During its RAF life, the airfield hosted various squadrons (141, 29, 322…).

[vi] In June and July 1944 the airfield hosted 322 squadron and its Spitfires (Mk XIV), tasked primarily with intercepting VI ‘doodelbugs’ aimed at London.

[vii] The setting for the cricket match between All Muggleton and Dingley Dell in Charles Dickens‘ Pickwick Papers was based on an amalgamation of the grounds at West Malling and Maidstone.

[viii] There is a resemblance to West Malling in the original illustration of the match, a version of which featured on the back of the £10 banknote featuring Dickens, first circulated on 29 April 1992.

[ix] West Malling owed its initial prosperity to its flourishing market.

[x] St. Leonard’s Tower, a Norman keep, was built by Bishop Gundulf c.1080.

[xi] Two of the symptoms demonstrated by plague sufferers.

[xii] The 1348-49 plague, with its high mortality rate, reduced West Malling to just 15 people.

[xiii] ‘Then woe is me, poor Child, for Thee, and ever mourn and say…’; from the Coventry Carol.

[xiv] The Benedictine Abbey at West Malling was reduced by the plague to just four sisters and five novitiates.

[xv] ‘We plough the fields and scatter/The good seed on the land…’ (Hymn)

[xvi] The Swan is a distinctive eighteenth century coaching inn.

[xvii] Many of those hop picking in Kent, a hop region that was only mechanised in the 1960s, were Eastenders. For them, the annual migration meant not just money in the family pocket but a welcome break from the grime and smoke of London. Whole families would come down on special trains and live in hoppers’ huts and gradients for most of September, even the smallest children helping in the fields.

[xviii] Seat of the Kent region’s renowned Shepherd Neame brewery, founded in 1698.

[xix] During the beer brewing process the liquid created by ‘mashing’ malted grain, the wort, is moved into a large tank known as a ‘copper’ or kettle where it is boiled with the hops.

[xx] Another ancient distinctive building in West Malling, Ford House, is reckoned to be some 600 years old…

[xxi] …and would therefore have witnessed the crushing of the remnants of Sir Thomas Wyatt’s rebellion (1554) at West Malling, after it had been repulsed at London Bridge and Ludgate.

So if you have done your spadework (sorry), I can now bring all of these elements together. Composer Nigel Clarke was commissioned by conductor John Hutchins and the Eynsford Concert Band to compose an original piece of music inspired by Sarah Cunnington’s sculpture, Hope. This world première was given a gala performance in the Tythe Barn of the Pilson at Malling Community with all proceeds from the concert shared between the Community and Spadework, with Brian Bennett playing a big organisational role. And what a concert! Finlandia (Sibelius), a British folksong fantasy by Philip Spark (‘Albion Heritage’), Bruckner’s Os Justi, Thames Journey (Nigel Hess), a very original arrangement by Arthur Wilkinson of Lennon and McCartney’s Michelle, and Jan Ven der Roost’s Canterbury Chorale. Then John invited Nigel up to talk us through the creative process and then…. and then I had to stand up and read the poem I had been invited to write to accompany Nigel’s music. Now here’s the funny thing. I have to speak in public all the time. But I was so nervous on this occasion. Behind me were the band and in front the audience (some 130 people) and I realised that this was a new (and so far unique) experience for me; to read out something I had created in front of a large number of complete strangers. Fortunately, the audience were kind. And then we were on to the really serious stuff: Nigel’s composition. It was great and John and the Band did him proud (they’re recording the CD in a fortnight’s time and in due course I’ll post the link here). Afterwards, the Community offered tea and cakes in a marquis and we ‘performers’ (I include myself immodestly) could relax a little. I met the Mayor of Tonbridge and Malling Borough Council, Sue Murray, complete with her gold chain. She also keeps a blog and I’ll post the link here when I get hold of it. After that we retired with the band members to a pub and from there Nigel, John, Brian and N° 1 sprog went to Brian’s house, where we sat up until well into the small hours exhausting his supply of port and nibbling fine cheeses and talking about music and lots of other things beside. I know some at least of the people I have mentioned may read these posts and, well, I just want to say thank you to you all. It was such an enjoyable occasion and, for me, such a different experience. If I had to sum up that experience in one word, the word would be ‘community’: the flourishing community of West Malling; the Pilsdon at Malling Community; the community of Spadework; the community of the Band; and the community of friends who, together, produced something very, very special.

Last but not least, Brian Bennett works, on a voluntary basis, for a local charity called Spadework. The charity provides guidance and supported learning to adults with a range of special needs. The trainees range from 18 to 60 and they can learn horticulture, gardening, catering, woodwork and carpentry and computer skills. Brian tooks us to see the greenhouses and plantations and salesroom. I have never seen neater greenhouses and potting sheds.

The next piece in the jigsaw is an Intentional Christian Community of about 25 people based in West Malling, with a core group of Community members and children, who enable about twelve guests (men and women of all ages) to come and live in the Community because they have experienced a crisis in their lives (of homelessness, addiction, mental illness, breakdown, etc). The Community is made up of people from a huge variety of backgrounds, ‘from all faiths and none and many cultures and races’. The three pillars of this Community’s life are welcome (hospitality is shown to all comers), work (nobody is paid but everybody is expected to contribute to the life and chores of the community and its six acre smallholding), and worship (the Community prays four times day on a voluntary basis). Everybody is expected to eat together. I met Father Peter Barnett, who is in charge of the Community. Indeed, he respected the first pillar by immediately offering me an excellent cup of tea. The Community is based in part of an Anglican Abbey. They pray in what they call the Barn Chapel but which is, in fact, a wonderful Mediaeval Tithe Barn. When Brian Bennett, who was so instrumental (pardon the pun) in organising the concert, asked Father Peter if the Band could use the Barn, Father Peter enthusiastically agreed, even though this involved taking down the altar temporarily! It made for a very special venue, as I hope the photograph makes clear.

The third piece of the jigsaw is the Regimental Band of the Irish Guards. Nigel Clarke began his musical career as a military bandsman (trumpet). His time in the Army coincided with that of a tuba player, Brian Bennett. Brian now lives in West Malling and, indeed, very kindly put us up for the night with the most extraordinarily generous hospitality (that’s his house in the background). Brian plays the tuba in the Eynsford Concert Band. (Confusingly, so does his twin brother, Steve.) The Eynsford Concert Band’s musical director, John Hutchins, was also in the Band of the Irish Guards. By now the coincidences should be becoming clearer! Nowadays John plays trumpet for the Phantom of the Opera in the West End, but he also plays with groups such as the Royal Opera House Orchestra (Convent Garden), the English National Opera and the London Chamber Orchestra. He also teaches and he also conducts. We saw him in action when we arrived, since he and Nigel first went through rehearsals with the band and then John took some workshops with young children. He’s clearly a natural, imparting his great enthusiasm about all things musical. For the final connections you’ll have to await the next posts….

The second piece in the jigsaw puzzle that led to this weekend’s extraordinary experience was the Eynsford Concert Band. This is a symphonic wind band that has been based in the village of Eynsford, Kent since 1972. It brings together a very talented group of musicians who perform regularly in theatres and concert halls, both in the UK and abroad. They have even performed on a cruise liner. But the extraordinary thing about the band is that it is a registered charity and all of its members are amateurs, playing for pleasure and not for any other gain. They have a growing, eclectic and challenging repertoire but, whilst they move about a lot, they have kept their local links. I am posting a picture which shows, on the right of the picture, their oldest member, Joe Stafford, who I had the great pleasure and privilege of meeting over dinner. Joe, a clarinetist, married Ralph Vaughan-Williams’s German house keeper. Indeed, the great composer gave her away at their wedding. Extraordinarily, Joe is over eighty but still going strong.

From Bluewater we went to West Malling and the reason for the trip. In a previous post I wrote about a joint venture, music and poetry, with my composer friend, Nigel Clarke (his website here). This was the big day: the world premier of What Hope Saw, A Heritage Suite, composed by Nigel especially for the occasion, preceded by the reading of my poem of the same name (also composed for the occasion). I am going to bore you all with a number of posts for this was an extraordinary and humanly very rich experience. Let me start with West Malling. It’s ‘just off the M20’ and I realised as we drove there that I must have driven past the turning off the motorway hundreds of times without noting the name properly, let alone thinking of going there. In fact, West Malling is a picturesque and historic Kent town with a number of distinctive buildings and landmarks. In May 1999 the local borough council (Tonbridge and Malling) allocated £ 15,000 for a public art initiative. The result was a sculpture, Hope, on the village green, done by local sculptor Sarah Cunnington. A woman, dove in hand, runs forward. Her cloak billows out behind her, and on it are depicted various scenes from the town’s rich history. The scenes include West Malling’s market, its airfield, its hop gardens and orchards, one of the first games of cricket, its Abbey, Wyatt’s rebellion (finally crushed near here), the Black Death (that left just 15 inhabitants alive), and a community of Benedictine nuns.

Today, I took N° 1 sprog to Bluewater. It was, as she said, ‘an experience’, but not one I plan to repeat in the near future. A vast temple to Mammon (the second largest shopping centre in the UK), I found it soulless and depressing. Nor was it comprehensively served by the major chains and brands (no Primark, for example). The place is crowded, the boutiques try to out-compete each other with loud, rhythmic music, children scream and people mill about as if in a trance. N° 1 sprog shared my feelings to a certain extent; it would have been different, she said, if she had gone with her mates. She has a point. I could imagine that being fun, darting from boutique to boutique. But for families to make a ‘day out’ of coming to Bluewater, as I know they do,  is beyond me. Blurgh

This morning I took a long walk in the countryside with my better half and the dog. Jean Monnet used to take a walk every morning before he went to work. Unfortunately, I cannot do that. But I am a great believer in getting some fresh air and exercise from time to time. It was glorious weather; a clear blue sky, and that autumnal freshness that presages true winter coldness. The farmers were harvesting their potatoes. Great wagonloads passed us on the muddy lanes. The birds have started migrating and the birdwatchers have started watching them; we passed three ornithologists with a powerful camera hoping to take shots of migrating birds of prey. We saw a flight of geese, a lone buzzard circling southwards, and lots of smaller birds darting towards the south. This walk, near Berthem, with Leuven in the distance, is one of my favourites. Part of the reason for that is a little brick hut that stands in the middle of a field. We’ve met the owner once, a cheery man. It’s very basic. He has to bring water, for example, and he uses oil lamps. He has planted a wall of pine trees to act as a wind break and he keeps his own vegetable garden in a patch of ground in a field opposite. He doesn’t live there, but he comes out to tend the fruit and vegetables and uses it as a sort of summer house. I would give my eye-teeth to have that hut! Each time I pass it, I think to myself ‘how many books, articles and poems I would write, if I could sit in that wonderful isolation’!