All posts by jedski

West Hill Watch

Jim Gowans looks at heritage pubs and considers the cost of graffiti

IN THE LAST WHISTLER, reference was made to the three pubs included in the five locally listed heritage assets in West Hill conservation area: the Queen’s Head, the Royal Standard and the Grand Central.

The north façade of the Queen’s Head which greets visitors as they leave Brighton Station is not part of the original late 19th century design. The two highly decorative balconies and the elaborate mouldings at second floor level are, in fact, only eight years old. This façade was previously quite plain because when built, it was not exposed, being obscured by buildings which were subsequently demolished to widen the roads during the mid-20th century. 

The Royal Standard, a few yards further down Queen’s Road, is mentioned in street directories as early as 1859, but the current building seems to date from the late 19th century like the Queen’s Head. The Royal Standard owes its inclusion in the local list partly because of its red brick and stone design which is not typical of the area. 

The roofline is particularly interesting with its carved stone pediment flanked (originally) by two copper domed open turrets one of which remains. The single copper dome of the Grand Central pub is much more prominent and is a notably exuberant feature of what was the “baroque” style of the former Railway Hotel re- built in 1925 for Tamplins Brewery. 

The Regency Society’s James Gray collection (see picture and link) shows the hotel in about 1911 before the re-build. This hotel dates from the 1840s when it catered for travellers using the newly built railway terminus opposite.

http://regencysociety-jamesgray.com/volume31/source/jg_31_163.html

As its name implies this was a product of the Railway and it opened in the early 1840’s. The photograph, dating from 1911, shows it in its original form. In 1924 the Terminus Hotel, Queens Road and the Terminus Shades in Surrey Street were demolished, leaving the Railway Hotel in full view from the Station. Probably as a result of this, the Hotel was completely rebuilt, in its present form in 1925.

Clamping down on graffiti

THE BRIGHTON SOCIETY has led a campaign to force the police and the City Council to take a much less casual attitude to the scourge of graffiti and spray paint vandalism. 

In an online meeting hosted by the Brighton Society recently the deputy manager of Waitrose in Western Road revealed that his branch alone has been spending £12,000 per year removing graffiti and despite offering CCTV evidence to the police has yet to secure a prosecution. 

Examples of the police attitude include the case in 2019 of a “tagger” caught and held responsible for over 81 acts of spray paint vandalism. There was an outcry when the 22-year-old was given a caution with the condition he carry out a day’s “unpaid work” for the Council. 

The Council’s attitude is similarly un-reassuring when it allows its own tourism delivery unit “Visit Brighton” to sponsor an organisation whose un-authorised advertising used spray paint to advertise on pavements including those parts designated conservation areas. 

The City Council has published a 16 page “Graffiti Reduction Strategy 2018” and an online reporting system (which is only for graffiti on public property or “offensive” graffiti). Graffiti on private property should be reported directly to the police, preferably with a photo of the damage.

Come here, feast your mince pies, my old china…

Peter Batten goes misty eyed and remembers his real East End 

MY FATHER’S FAMILY came from the Isle of Dogs, home of Millwal football club and the area of London portrayed in the TV soap, “East Enders”, but how true is that to the true East End? 

I grew up in a house which looked out on a very substantial street market. On the other side of the road there were market stalls and behind them a row of shops. Just at the end of the row was a pub called, The Queen Victoria. My grandmother would meet her friends there most evenings. Just before closing time she would toddle home clutching her nightcap, a small jug of brown ale. On our corner, two houses away, was a fish and chip shop, and  I can almost recapture the smell as I write these words. 

Just a few yards away the market became denser, with stalls on both sides of the road and many different shops. Activity began at about 6am, when some stalls had to be brought out and ended after 6pm. 

The street market I’ve described is typical of those inner London suburbs which grew up post 1850. They were active from Monday to Saturday, then on Sunday huge special markets took over, like the amazing Petticoat Lane (pictured) or the one I often visited just off Walworth Road. One of their special attractions was the sale of animals, which took up one or two side streets.

My memories of our market are based on the years 1938-1958. Each of the smaller local markets had a character of its own, but they all offered a diversity of goods and characters. Our market was known as “The Blue Anchor” after the pub which was at the heart of the market. It was older than the Queen Vic, a late Victorian pub, and an even younger pub, the Colleen Bawn. As a nosey child this name always irritated me. What did it mean? Only in the 1970s did I discover it was the title of a successful Victorian play by the Irish playwright Dion Boucicault. 

We had a small fleapit cinema, the Rialto, a small Woolworth’s, a bank, and a Co-op, built on the road which had been destroyed by bombs. The variety was amazing, with all kinds of goods and foodstuffs on sale. Immediately opposite our house was a greengrocer’s, so it was easy to nip across if we needed extra veg for a meal. Right behind was a German bakery called Griesbach. A little further away was a German pork butcher that sadly  closed in 1940. Among the more unusual offerings was Sarsparella, a red cordial sold by the glass from a barrel. 

As in Ben Jonson’s Elizabethan play, “Volpone” there was usually someone offering some miracle cure for all ailments. Sometimes there would be a crockery stall where you were encouraged to make an offer for plates  or a tea service, An allegedly ex-boxer stood with a set of scales offering to tell your weight. Someone called prince Monoloulou might come by offering to sell you betting tips.

Which reminds me. There is no illegal betting in East Enders. In my childhood it was going on all around me. “Runners” as they were called were quietly taking bets in every pub and every factory. Our elderly neighbour, Mr Westcar, found a handy way to add to his pension by running a small “Book”, as it was called. Just in case the police came calling, my mother explained to me, all his betting slips were pinned to the underside of his large kitchen table.

Such memories – and we still haven’t mentioned jellied eels.

(Pic: Andrew Dunn)  

Just close your eyes…

…and you could be there. Andrew Polmear takes us to windswept, rugged Corbières for a fine glass of cool Castelmaure 

I don’t usually recommend specific bottles of wine, being more interested in writing about the principles behind why we enjoy drinking. And I’m especially interested in relating how a wine tastes to where it comes from, who makes it and what they do to it that makes it special. But there’s a bottle available as I write that illustrates those principles so well that I’m breaking my rule. It’s Les Hauts de Castelmaure 2018, from the Corbières in France and Majestic has it for £11.99. If they’ve sold out, the Scottish wine merchant Exel will post you a case for not much more.

I found out about it because Decanter magazine recently published the results of a tasting of 55 Corbières reds and the Castelmaure came equal top with 95 points out of 100. That’s the sort of score Bordeaux wines selling for over £30 a bottle would be pleased to have. The tasters found it rich and powerful with an aroma of black fruits, fine leather and soft spice. 

The Corbières is that windswept, rugged part of France between Narbonne and the Pyrenees bordering the Mediterranean coast. It’s dotted with ruined castles where the last of the Cathars held out against persecution in the 13th century and they’ve been making wine there since the Romans. The village of Embrès-et-Castelmaure is perched on a hilly plateau just 22 miles in from the sea. That’s the first clue as to why their wine is special. It’s so hot in the Corbières that it’s easy to make bland, blousy wine with grapes that have ripened too quickly. Castelmaure’s altitude in the foothills of the Serre mountain keeps them that bit cooler. 

The second clue is that the vineyards are steep and the soil arid – hopeless conditions for making lots of cheap wine, prefect for
wine of quality. The grapes have to be picked by hand and the
yield is inevitably low. And, to ensure that none of the wine growers aims for quantity rather than quality, the Co-op pays by the size of the vineyard, not by the weight of grapes grown. A low yield means that the flavours are concentrated.

Which brings us to the third clue: all wine made under the Castelmaure label (and there are cheaper Castelmaure wines than this one) comes from the village Co-operative: it’s what the village does. It helps that the actual winemaker, Bernard Pueyo, who has been there since 1983, is passionate about what he does. As he says on the label, the Co-op prefers to make wine with the flavours of the local “garrigue” rather than bother with the flim-flam (the word he uses in French is “falbalas”) of professional experts.

Then there’s the detail of how the wine is made. At least half of the grapes are fermented by carbonic maceration. This means the grapes are not crushed but allowed to break open as they ferment. It gives more flavour to the wine, especially with Carignan; and 20% of the grapes of this wine are Carignan, the rest being Syrah and Grenache. Then the wine is aged for 11 months in small oak barrels (“barriques”) as in Bordeaux. I don’t find that the wine tastes of oak (that’s an unmistakable vanilla flavour) but it’s the oak that permits the development of those flavours of leather and spice. 

Why have I gone into such detail? Because I find that understanding all those points adds hugely to my enjoyment of this gorgeous, rich and complex wine.

Letter from Australia

We in Australia are watching the UK’s economic reopening with interest as it mirrors the one here, especially as pubs and second waves are concerned.

So while Leicester is once again isolated, Melbourne has locked down nine vertical cruise liners, sorry – tower blocks – to try and staunch yet another community outbreak; but this time to much criticism from opposition politicians and the fury of residents who had two hours notice of their five-day quarantine, regardless of whether they have a job or not…

And soon the border between Victoria and New South Wales will be closed for the first time in a hundred years to try and eradicate this stubborn virusy thing – but we already know that humanity has a short fuse when it comes to personal freedoms (hello Texans!) and corona virus is not going to disappear by magic (hello Donald!), so that many more Bournemouth beach incidents might occur over the next few months while scientists try and create then manufacture a vaccine.

Meantime, so many publicist demagogues (Donald again; Vladimir, Jair, Xi, Boris, Recep for starters) are unashamedly willing our economic resurgence even in the teeth of increasing infections…no matter that this is precisely the time to stay at home and let our governments become socialist missionaries as they subsidise all of us recently unemployed until we get out the other side, ready to restore our capitalist economies.

With the cost of borrowing just a tad over zero percent for governments, our currently vast national debts will be relatively easily paid off from even modest growth, once it resumes.

Albeit in a world significantly different to our pre-Covid version, with social distancing, track n trace, frequent lockdowns n quarantines – not to mention fewer international students and flights, ocean cruises, tourism generally, hugging n kissing and even mass gatherings… except maybe at the local, where the UK police aver social distancing and excess alcohol are mutually exclusive: even I coulda told ‘em that!!!

Justin Simpson 

The Whistler – August 2020

The sun’s shining, the birds are singing and OK, life’s still a bit odd but it’s the summer and, no matter what, we look for the positives. We’re going out now, it’s better. We can order in a restaurant and we can talk to the waiters and even if we can hear them we can’t understand what they’re saying because we’re all wearing facemasks – we are all wearing facemasks, aren’t we? But slowly life is getting back on track, and so in the next few weeks, if you find yourself in a pub garden and you see a bloke in a linen suit and straw hat, co-respondent shoes and red socks nursing a vodka and tonic… come up and say Hello.

And don’t forget – if you’ve got something to say, drop us a line. Join in. Life’s better that way. XX

Jed Novick

thewhistler1976@gmail.com

 

Aubrey Beardsley

Join Alexia Lazou, Mistress of Line, on a gentle 90 minute stroll through Brighton, exploring the buildings and places associated with the early life of Brighton-born artist Aubrey Beardsley (1872-1898), famous for his innovative and provocative black and white illustrations. 12-20 Sept, various dates and times. Free but booking essential.

https://aubrey-beardsleys-brighton-tour.eventbrite.co.uk or phone 01273 698278

A Night At The Dome

JUST BECAUSE YOU can’t go out doesn’t mean you can’t go out. Brighton Dome is putting on a series of livestreamed events with authors, actors and podcasters. The livestream events will take place from August to November 2020, with tickets on sale from Brighton Dome’s website. Best-selling American author and LGBTQ+ activist, Armistead Maupin appears in a special event with Sir Ian McKellen (Aug 12, pictured), Graham Norton (Sept 27) and Jay Rayner (Sept 4). 

Full event details and tickets from Brighton Dome website https://brightondome.org/whats_on/  

The Westie Pub Hub

It’s The West Hill Tavern, but not as you know it. This family run independent has had a little freshen up and is now a “Cafe-Bar-Art space” open from 10.30am on weekdays offering a space to work, drink, meet and eat. A home-from-home on the hill, featuring work for sale from local artists and makers, Black Rock coffee, grilled sandwiches, homemade cakes, cocktails, free wifi and of course….beer. 

‘We’ve always had the community at the heart of what we do’ said Heather Pistor. ‘and like everyone, we’ve had to adapt. We’ve looked at the needs of our neighbours; the work-from-homers, the coffee catcher up’ers and those who just need a space during the day to sit and sip, or eat in a relaxed spacious environment. And we thought …we can provide this. 

‘We are, and always will be a pub, but in developing our new Pub Hub we’ve created a lovely space to eat, drink, work and play.’

If you’d like to book a table or showcase your own work, please mail: thewestiebn1@gmail.com. 

Follow them @thewesthilltavern

The Reggae Scribe of West Hill

Tucked away in a terraced house perched on the slopes of the West Hill neighbourhood is housed one of Brighton’s – and possibly the UK’s, most impressive collections of reggae music. From top to bottom its walls bulge and strain with vinyl from every era – from ska and rocksteady in the 1960s, through 1970s roots reggae, right up to contemporary dancehall. It is all lovingly archived by John Masouri, who’s mission for over 30 years as one of the world’s foremost reggae music journalists, been to document the constant stream of creativity and musical innovation coming out of Jamaica.

John has been writing about Jamaican music since 1988 but his love for the music goes back to his upbringing in a working class area of Nottingham during the 1960s where he was introduced to ‘shabeens,’ also known as ‘blues parties’ – all  night house parties playing ska and early reggae on huge, neighbourhood-shaking sound systems.

Blues parties were like entering another universe. ‘You’d go in there, into these very small confined spaces, like in one of these two up two down terraced houses. And the music would be very loud, it would be very dark, just the light of the amplifier valves lighting up in the darkness.  The sweat, the condensation on the walls – and also the music.’

At that stage John had no idea the music would take him on an epic journey of a lifetime, it was just a place where the kids who didn’t fit in anywhere else felt at home. ‘I had no intention of playing the music or being involved with it at that time though, it was just purely to be there to soak in the atmosphere. It felt like a safe space, in essence.’

After a period working at the Tate Gallery in the early 1970s, John came down to live in Brighton in 1976 and helped to kickstart the city’s vibrant reggae scene, which still continues to thrive. ‘I loved Brighton ever since I first came down here on a visit. It just felt like this is where I wanted to be. When I moved down here, very quickly I went looking for reggae music and I went to this place called the Alhambra on the seafront, and people said that downstairs in the basement there was reggae music.’

The venue downstairs was known as The In Place and there he met and befriended Brighton’s now legendary first reggae sound system, King Tafari Love. ‘At the same time punk was happening, so there’d be punk upstairs at the Alhambra and reggae downstairs. There was the Top Rank Suite, the place where Dennis Brown and all these people would play, Black Uhuru, Gregory Isaacs. That was a guy called Colin Matthews who worked at Brighton Art College, he was the promoter, he used to bring down a lot of those acts. Aswad, Misty In Roots, these people were always down here.’

In the early 1980s as a DJ John helped to bring the atmosphere of those early Nottingham shabeens he’d attended to Brighton (well Hove, actually) with support from one of the city’s most feared gangsters. ‘In those days I was playing with a sound system called Field Marshall Hi Fi. There were about five or six of us. But playing out was difficult, you needed places to play. And reggae music was never all that popular with proper venues, because of the crowds, because there were too many ganja smokers in the crowds, so that was always a constant factor. But then to our rescue came Nicholas Hoogstraaten who was Brighton’s notorious landlord.

Hoogstraaten would give us these basement flats. He’d say ‘you can play in here and do whatever you like’ and he’d charge us some money like a hire fee and then he’d come and collect it at about three in the morning and he’d sweep in with his big long coat and his ‘assistants’ and they’d take the money.’ Frequent visitors down from London would be visiting MCs over from Jamaica such as Mikey Dread and Barrington Levy.

Talking about those early Shabeens John remembers, ‘we all had young children, so the children would come to the blues parties so we’d put mattresses down in a room upstairs and they’d all pile in there when they got tired and go to sleep. We’d have ‘ital’ (Jamaican for ‘wholesome’) food, jerk chicken and all of that, of course Red Stripe and Heineken to buy there, it was totally illegal of course. We charged about two pounds on the door or something, some token amount on the door an then was selling food and drinks, they were great social occasions. It went on for several years.’

John’s son Felix grew up in that atmosphere, which eventually led him to take up his father’s mantle. ‘He started at the age of four. We would set up the sound system gear and he absolutely loved it, he would chat on the mic in the warm up. I have a cassette with him aged 4 chatting on a mic, all nonsense. But he loved the experience of being around it. I could trust him putting on records, putting on vinyl from a very early age, he had this respect for the whole process. He loved the music, we used to nurse him to sleep to reggae music when he was a baby.’ Now in his 40s, Felix started his own dancehall reggae night at the Volks when he was just 19, playing the latest fresh sounds from Jamaica every week.

He continues to work as a live music promoter with his company Global Beats, who have brought such acts to Brighton as Mykal Rose, Yellowman, Eek-A-Mouse, Horace Andy, Kobaka Pyramid, Jah 9, Morgan Hertiage, Misty In Roots as well as Public Enemy and Roy Ayers. ‘His contribution to the Brighton reggae scene is very much greater than mine because he’s put on so many club nights and he’s put on so many artists,’ says John.

The pair now work together on a radio show on Brighton’s community station 1BTN FM with an emphasis on new sounds coming out of Jamaica. ‘We decided to do a show called Run The Track for 1BTN that showcases contemporary music. We rarely play anything that’s older than a couple of years and most of what we play is just a few months old. Mainly roots and vocal music. But its nice that father son thing. I enjoy doing the shows with him a lot and I learn a lot from him.’

John continues to write about reggae music. Simmer Down is his book about the about the pre-fame early days of Bob Marley and the Wailers in the 1960s published on his own Jook Joint Press. Steppin’ Razor: The Life Of Peter Tosh (Omnibus Press) is the first full length biography of the former Wailer and revolutionary firebrand. Wailing Blues: The Story of Bob Marley’s Wailers (Ominbus) is about the post-Marley Wailers, brilliantly documenting the legal wranglings of his group after Marley’s death. Look out for Felix and John’s shows on 1BTN FM.

John Masouri is now embarking on a series of anthologies curated from over 30 years of writing about Jamaican music entitled Reggae Chronicles, published via his own independent Jook Joint Press imprint. The first of these is Rebel Frequency: Jamaica’s Reggae Revival, which focuses on writings from the previous decade, up to and including 2019. This will be followed later this year with The Marley Files: One Foundation, a look at Bob Marley’s legacy since his death, featuring in-depth interviews with Damien, Stephen and Ziggy Marley. They can be purchased direct from johnmasouri.com

Adam Reeves 

That’s Trad, dad

HAVE YOU HEARD of “The Bird”? Charlie Parker, known as “Bird”, was a very great alto saxophonist and the major creative force in the jazz style known as Bebop. During WW2 he became widely admired and then idolised, in the United States, for his fantastic ability as an improviser. When that War ended his fame and the jazz style called Bebop immediately spread around the World. The effects of that explosion are still felt today. Here in Brighton jazz is enjoying a new surge of interest. Although the musicians and their music have a healthy variety, an influence from the Bebop era can be felt everywhere.

But Bebop wasn’t the only jazz style to emerge from WW2. Something very different was born, – and much of it was hatched outside the United States. No jazz of any recognisable style began before 1900. Then the early “traditional” style began to be played, most obviously In New Orleans. 

More bands appeared, recording began in earnest and the centre moved from New Orleans to Chicago. By 1927 this early style, based on the interplay of trumpet, clarinet and trombone reached its peak. It then began to disappear back into clubs and bars. Very few young black musicians were interested in this style. They quickly took up their places in the new “Big Bands”. [Do not forget that racism in the USA meant that until well into the 1940s Big Bands were either white or black] 

What happened in WW2 was a surprise. In Holland, France, in the UK, in Eastern Europe, in Australia, amateur jazz bands, often of self-taught musicians, began to attempt to play in what they believed was an early and purer style of jazz, unspoilt by the commercialism which dominated the “Swing” era from 1935. 

In 1943 a pianist, George Webb, living in South-East London decided to relieve the gloom of the Blitz by forming a small jazz band. Its fame soon spread. In Nottinghamshire two enthusiasts who knew a great deal about the early history of jazz, James Asman and Bill Kinnell, had begun publishing a magazine to encourage interest in the origins of the music. They were very encouraged by the success of “George Webb’s Dixielanders” and promoted the band through concerts and commercial recordings. As the number of fans and other bands grew, musicians such as Humphrey Lyttleton and Chris Barber for example  – came on the scene. 

Then something awful happened for two reasons. The first was a lack of decent pianos, or any pianos at all. The second was a shortage of pianists able to play in the traditional style AND fit into a rhythm section which was supposed to swing. The result was the emergence of a very successful band led by Chris Barber without a pianist. The rhythm section was dominated by the banjo of Lonnie Donegan. Through no fault of his, and almost without noticing it, the band began to play with a kind of rhythm which bore little relation to early jazz. It also promoted a strange kind of jerky jazz dance which became very popular. Several other bands were infected. Then, somehow, this aberration became a total disaster. Someone more in touch than me can possibly give a date to it. I think it began in 1957, when Acker Bilk arrived in town and his band started a trend for uniforms which others quickly adopted. Soon there were bands dressed as cowboys, gamblers, waiters, city gents. Somehow this trend embraced the Banjo dominated music to become a monster. British “Trad” was born. There was immediate commercial success. The traditional jazz started by George Webb had become a major part of British popular music. Suddenly it inflated to become this ugly monster with little musical merit and no resemblance to the early jazz by which it claimed to be inspired. 

In 1962 there was a film about it, “That’s Trad, Dad” but, as is often the case, the film was too late. The monster really had no substance and would not have sustained popular interest for very long. It was swept aside by the Beatles and the Stones and a whole new music driven by great energy and imagination. The music begun by George Webb was able to return to the care of semi-professional musicians in the back rooms of local pubs.

Peter Batten