I was fortunate to be born in Oxford. I was also born happy. The eldest of four children I had the privilege of my mother’s attention for my first year before a brother and the rest of the family arrived. For as long as I can remember I have loved the look of things – whether that be a face or a flower. My visual memory is very strong. My grandparents lived on the other side of Oxford and I loved visiting them. My grandfather was a cabinet maker. He had a wonderful workshop very well arranged, full of every tool a carpenter would need.There were also huge saws, lathes and a constant wood burning stove. When I arrived with friends he would stop what he was doing and make us all a wooden top. He would simply colour them with chalk patterns. I think this was the beginning of my love affair with colour. We would spin our tops in the yard and I was fascinated by the way in which the colours melded before the top came to rest and the individual colours and patterns would return to view. Living in Oxford I became very familiar with all the great ancient college buildings around, and the Ashmolean, and the Pitt Rivers Museum. I loved walking into the city over Magdalen bridge and it seemed to me that I was entering a beautiful, magical world.
It was when I went to the Girls’ Grammar School – Milham Ford – that I really began to be interested in the arts. Celia Osmond-Smith was the Art teacher. I remember vividly her showing us how to clean our paint brushes! She was an inspiring teacher who believed in observational work as well as the imaginative. Herbert Read in his book Education through Art included several ‘mind’ paintings borrowed from my school. Celia took us to see exhibitions in London, introduced us to Matisse, Giotto and a myriad of Artists. Best of all she encouraged me personally as an artist.
One of my School’s governors was a tutor at Lady Margaret Hall. She invited the sixth form Art students to paint murals, one of which she would select to display in her College. I enjoyed the challenge of making a large work. I chose to paint an Italian mediaeval townscape with a river running below the hill where the houses and churches rose up behind. I had never been to Italy and I think my source was a memory of a photograph on a calendar! I was delighted when my painting was chosen to be displayed in an Oxford College.
Music has always been a big part of my life. I had a favourite uncle who lived in Canada. He excelled at the piano. Whenever he came home he would play and I would sing. At school Mrs Williams was our music teacher. She would sit at the grand piano rehearsing her repertoire. It was thrilling to be introduced to Dido and Aeneas, Marriage of Figaro and the rest of the canon. We would sing our way through them and singing to me became important.
The Head of English – Helen Morris – introduced me to poetry, novels and plays. Drama and performance assumed a great significance for me. Amongst several, playing Hermione in The Winter’s Tale was transforming and I was finding that involvement in the arts gave me a safe place to lose myself. Extra-mural activities complemented School – life drawing, friends, tennis, dancing at the Jazz club, punting down the river or enjoying crumpets and tea and debate with students in a College room. Helping with Oxford University Drama Society (OUDS) outdoor productions of Shakespeare in College gardens were high spots. Meanwhile my father who had a love for the classical guitar had a guitar made for me and I enjoyed singing and accompanying folk songs with family and friends.
School holidays were opportunities to earn money in a variety of environments. One of my favourite jobs was helping in a small cafe at the Oxford Eye Hospital. Towards coffee time I rode a bike with a huge basket on the front down to a Banbury Road nurses’ home. In the basement was a splendid kitchen with huge ranges. My task was to collect daily the home-made buns and take them back to the cafe. The cook would always give me one of the hot buns to taste. Delicious! Hot buns became my Proust madeleines. Oh! The charm of the backward glance! Christmas Post was a regular for students. It was in the days when there was still a delivery on Christmas Day. I particularly enjoyed the North Oxford round – there was always an invite for a drink and a goodie!
Working for the Oxford and Cambridge exam board based in the exam schools on the High was probably my most rewarding holiday job. Even making the coffee was a rich experience. In the kitchen, down in the basement, was Basil. Displayed on a large dresser, hugger muggger with eccentric pottery he had the invitations he had received to grand occasions. I found it all intriguing – extensive menus emblazoned with gilt crests and lists of endless courses and exotic sounding dishes – not unlike a Kurt Schwitters collage.
Alternate years the exam board met in Cambridge – a great opportunity for me to get to know ‘the other place’. We lodged at the George Hotel and I relished the whole experience. I was flattered to be asked by the art examiner to help with the final awards of GCEs and A-levels. I was struck by the bizarreness of the artwork spread out all over the seats in what I recall was the balcony of a theatre(?) We had fascinating debates about the relative values of the work…
Holiday jobs were fine for while, but what to do when I left School? All things being equal I would have liked to be a BBC TV announcer. But how to get there? The Careers teacher was aware of my strong interest in the arts and particularly the visual arts. She suggested I try for a place at Bretton Hall. This was the former seat of the Allendale family now turned into a Teacher Training College set up to train teachers exclusively through the arts. I had my interview for Bretton with the College Principal in Cambridge. I took with me a portfolio of art work. I was surprised to be invited to sing. ‘Early One Morning’ sprang to mind! The Principal closed his eyes and when he opened them offered me a place to study art with drama as a subsidiary subject. I set about getting ready to go off on an adventure. I had not yet seen the College at which I was going to spend the next three years. When my parents took me off to Yorkshire it was all new to me. I had never been so far North. We passed slag heaps which I mistook for mountains. The arrival at Bretton Park was breathtaking – a stately mansion with Camellia House set in Capability Brown landscaped acres with its own lakes and gentle hills. I was here!
So began a splendid adventure for me.
Life was rich. I made new friends.I met my husband to be (Bob Fowler) who was Warden and Tutor in English ( he had studied English at Oxford, the Queen’s College. I must have walked past him as I used to queue for my bus at the stop outside Queen’s). I met Eric Newton (The Meaning of Beauty) who discussed my art work. Herbert Read was a Visiting Fellow. Ninette de Valois came to see a Dance performance. Ted Hughes visited and read his poetry – I even cheekily managed to get a lift in his car and continue the conversations about poetry. So life ran on. Bob introduced me to the Lake District where he had a ‘bachelor pad’ in Rosthwaite. We had a fabulous courtship. After the end of my college career we were married in Borrowdale and sailed away across Lake Derwentwater into the setting sun. Most of the Bretton staff came to the wedding and the Principal (to whom I sang in Cambridge) stood at the end of the Lodore Landing Stage declaiming ‘Come back, come back, Lord Ullin’s Daughter!’
Bob was appointed to a new job in Kent as Deputy Principal helping to set up a College for mature students who were studying to become teachers. We began our married life in the garden of Kent, soon finding a glorious Elizabethan house to turn into our home. Practical aesthetics on a limited budget! At the top of the house there was space for me to set up an easel. Painting could continue…..babies came soon, Tristan, Hal and Penny Belle. The artist, Roy Oxlade, joined the staff of the College with his (now famous) artist wife, Rose Wylie. A rich friendship developed with them. We had very happy times. Rose was a superb cook and over many dinners the debates about art and aesthetics and Wittgenstein and music and the world went on. Showing and talking about art and drawing and painting and poetry was an ongoing enlightenment….