Wellsbourne Society: talk, film, slideshow, nude man and 3-legged dog (training for para-Crufts?)
The inaugural Wellsbourne Society event in The MusicBar last
night was a very ‘Brighton’ affair. A dark cellar bar, crammed with people of
indiscriminate age but all young of mind, to watch a talk, poem, film and
slideshow – all dedicated to the history of Brighton. How ‘Brighton’ is that?
First up Mathew Clayton, sporting a greying quiff, lit by a strong
blue spotlight that made him look half-Avatar, half 50s rocker– a good look by
the way. Mathew entranced us with his tale of Brighton’s secret river,
mentioned in the Doomsday Book, now gone underground but occasionally erupting
to cause chaos, as in 1705 when the whole of South Street and its inhabitants
were washed away and again in 2000, with the Argus headline ‘Floody Hell!’.
Mathew has a lovely lilt which flowed soft and deliberate, like the river he so
clearly loved.
A documentary by Brighton’s then ‘Theatre Critic’, Jack
Tinker, about a lost Brighton, was actually about him and his little theatre
clique. His now quaint BBC accent, name dropping and clear distain for anything
NOT to do with the ‘thaaaaitur’ turned out to be a great comic interlude. No
mention of Max Miller
For me the highlight was Peter Crisp’s delightful slide
show. Peter has lived in Brighton since 1976 and was one of the first people I
met when I moved here. He took us back to the real Brighton I moved to in the
early 80s, a shabby, seaside town full of old shops, greasy spoons, and great
little run-down pubs. Keith Waterhouse wrote a wonderful piece comparing Brighton
with Edinburgh, my home town. He saw Edinburgh as being a city of architecture
and Brighton a city of people. But there’s delight in these little nook and
cranny shops and pubs. The real Brighton is on a small scale, like a miniature,
model village, narrow twittens, small houses in the lanes, peculiar niche shops
, the narrow pier and little corner pubs. Peter photographs these but more than
this he goes inside and knows the people. I know of no one who gets out more
than Peter – he’s a Brighton legend as ‘man about town’ but he’s one of the
nicest people you’re likely to meet and curious about everything, and I mean
everything.
Lastly, Dr Bramwell gave us a verbal tour of the Brighton he
knows, bringing to life the Steine, it’s fountain but above all the presence of
the sea. He told of hands being chopped off from hanging victims and murders to
be sold to criminals who used them as charms. This is a side of Brighton I hope
to hear more of, it’s violence, drugs and trunk murders. So thanks to Dr
Bramwell for his event (co-hosted by M Clayton).
As we stumbled out of the dark cellar into Manchester Street,
we could see the sea lit by the lights of the Palace Pier and the huge, new
Ferris Wheel. St James Street pubs were loud and raucous, a nude man was
exercising from his top floor flat in full view and we passed a drunk Scot with
a three-legged dog (in training for the
Para-Crufts?. It all looked rather wonderful, as indeed it is.