“BY, IT WERE WORTH A BRING-AND-BUY SALE TO ‘AVE ‘ER!”- NORMA PROCTER – IN HER OWN WORDS

Post date: Jul 31, 2017 2:45:58 PM

Introduction by Rachel Branson I must admit that, until a few days ago, I knew nothing about Norma Procter. I vaguely remembered an article appearing in the Grimsby Telegraph when she passed away earlier this year, but I’m afraid I really didn’t read it properly. Things changed when Friends of Cleethorpes Heritage were handed a carrier bag of Norma’s photos and documents by friend of the group Mike Stewart, although initially I wasn’t sure quite what to do with them. Then I found Norma’s mini-autobiography, written in the late 1990s for a book called “Lincolnshire Women” by the late Dr John R Ketteringham. This is a typed draft copy with scribbles on it, but I assume an edited version made it into the book. Although out of print, I found a copy of it on ebay, so we will see. Reading Norma’s words, the items in the carrier bag began to take on new meaning. The tatty envelope with a name, address and phone number on them meant something, as did her introductory letter to the man whose name was on the envelope, the “Prof”, Roy Henderson. The programmes, photographs and documents relating to what, for various reasons, were events of great importance in Norma’s life and to her friend and idol Kathleen Ferrier, were all explained. I love the fact that she has scribbled on many of the documents and photographs, so we know for example that when she made her London debut at Southwark Cathedral in 1948, she was “green with fright.” I have discovered that I have two tenuous links with Norma, the first being that before she turned professional, she was employed at Hope Street Clinic, where I have worked for the last eleven years. We have trod the same boards in one respect at least and I suspect the carpet in reception may still be the same one that she walked on in the mid-1940s! The second link is that her friend and accompanist Anne Holmes had the misfortune of first trying to teach me violin forty years ago at Edward Street School. It wasn’t her fault that I didn’t have the talent or the belief to be much good and that I really wanted to learn the piano or guitar instead. I love music and, in the right hands, a violin can create a beautiful noise. Mine were not the right hands and having played quietly and allowed the real talent in the Havelock School orchestra to mask my puny efforts, I eventually gave up the violin and music when I came to choose my subjects for O’ Level. My violin must have been so relieved when I handed it back, as were, I’m sure, the neighbours!

But I digress. What strikes me most from reading Norma’s story is not the impressive list of people with whom she has collaborated and places she has performed, although it is a very impressive list. I should have heard of Norma Procter, a Meggie born and Grimsby bred, and she should be better remembered and celebrated in the area than she currently is.

No, what shines through is a lady who, despite being possessed of a great gift which took her all over this country and the world and earned her a large and loyal following, remained humble and grateful for the opportunities her voice gave her and did it all for the love of music and singing, not for fame and fortune. The comment in the penultimate paragraph -also the title of this article – sums this up perfectly.

Now read Norma’s story and judge for yourself:

Music has been the main interest and love of my life since before I can remember – and people have asked many times – when did you first begin singing?

My very earliest memories are being lifted on to a small kitchen table – I’d be about 3 years old – singing ‘Jesus bids us shine’ and ‘Jesus wants me for a sunbeam’ and other childish hymns I learnt at Sunday School. Then my first public singing was actually on the Sunday School platform at our dear little Methodist Church at Scartho village where we lived then and later at Mill Road Methodist Church in Cleethorpes – where I was born – though I have lived and been based in Grimsby all my life and career.

There was always music in the house, either by radio or gramophone records – and I came from a musical family on both sides. Everyone sang, i.e. SATB singers, pianists, organists and a cellist long ago – just an enjoyable amateur way and usually in church choirs and services, meetings and concerts – or around the piano – always hymns or ballads/songs and from the Messiah and Elijah too.

My sister, Audrey, was four years older than me, and already having piano and singing lessons. I’d begun having piano lessons when five years old and to appease my own curiosity insisted that I should also be allowed singing lessons too and for the sake of peace in the family home I began! To mine and everyone’s astonishment I then began winning prizes in many local and Lincolnshire Competitive Festivals and singing lessons continued until I was thirteen years old when at last they had to be given a rest to complete my school studies. There was nothing clever about me at school. I was a late developer all my life and still am! I was sixteen when I began solo singing again and joined Mill Road Choir and it was quite a shock to hear now this large low contralto noise after the previous piping soprano and although my music had completely taken me over – I adored the piano and still do – I had no idea or thought of becoming a professional singer. Nor had I realized that those three years of rest had helped my voice change and mature naturally without force or damage by continually singing, just as when a boy’s voice ‘breaks’ about that time and rest is essential for that change-over. I just carried on singing for pleasure locally and now enjoyed duets with Audrey too. However, when I was eighteen and singing the alto solos for the first time in Messiah during a Christmas performance at Mill Road Church in 1946, especially after ‘He was despised’, I suddenly realized what a wonderful message music had to give to the world. This voice, I began to understand, was God’s gift, not really mine and only lent to me for a while. What could I do about it? I had so little to offer but perhaps if I worked and tried hard enough, I could help spread the message, and so quietly then decided to dedicate my life, if possible, to singing God’s glorious gift of music. Long before this performance Kathleen Ferrier had become my idol, having heard her in the Grimsby Philharmonic Messiah. I was completely bowled over by the sheer beauty of this lovely face and voice, her personality and humility, and had no eyes for anyone else all evening, and her interpretation of ‘He was despised’ was unforgettable. Then at the end of the concert, and totally unlike the very shy me, I went down for her autograph in my mother’s pre-Christmas pressie – a newly bound copy of Messiah. She beckoned me forward and said ‘You have enjoyed y’self, haven’t you? I’ve been watching you – come and say hello again, won’t you.’ I was so surprised, but left the hall on cloud nine.

She returned for further concerts and I always gladly went to say ‘hello’ as she’d asked, finally finding the courage to ask if she did any teaching herself. She hadn’t the time, she said, but gave me on the envelope of her 25 guinea marked fee, her professor Roy Henderson’s name and details. Again I was so shattered, as he was my original choice too, having heard his most incredible and memorable Elijah with the Grimsby Phil without a score two years before. I still have that very precious envelope to this day.

So, without a word to anyone, my mother, who was my greatest encouragement and support throughout my career, and I went down to London for an audition with Roy Henderson in late January 1947 in thick snow, the beginning of that terrible long snow-bound winter. It seemed he already knew about me from Kathleen Ferrier and was impressed, though nothing promised, only very hard work and an enormous amount of learning, as my classical repertoire was almost non-existent, to say nothing of the languages needed, and whether I could control my tormenting unbearable nerves before a concert and had the enormous stamina needed for a constant travelling minstrel.

I was very reluctant to move immediately to London as he suggested, far too unsure of the insecure me and my fate and being such a home bird, but began travelling each week for a lesson, when I could afford it, from Grimsby. He being

my only vocal teacher throughout my whole career, at his suggestion I studied musicianship and piano with Alec Redshaw (pictured right with Norma), his long-term friend in Cleethorpes, then eventually German Lieder with Hans Oppenheim and, much later, Paul Hamburger. Any possible success I have had is due to all these teachers - my beloved Prof, as he became, whom I phone regularly, now in his 99th year and still as bright as a button mentally, though with physical problems. Alec, ‘A.R.’, became a close friend and mentor, and accompanist on many memorable recitals and conducting Grimsby Phil concerts. Hans ‘Oppie’ worked with me until his death and it was later in my career with Paul that we made many memorable BBC recordings together when he was accompanist for Radio 3. He was wonderful to work with too, and we still keep in touch to this day. I gave up my job as a nurse/secretary to an ophthalmic surgeon. Those weekly journeys to Prof. were a wonderful way of being ‘broken in’ so to speak, for it had never occurred to me to ask myself first, ‘Do you like travelling? Do you like trains and planes? Hotels? Can you sleep in strange beds every other night? Eat meals at any hour of the day? Do you like living in a suitcase, endlessly packing and unpacking? Do you love people? Like writing letters? Have you plenty of patience and always a real sense of humour? Loneliness?’ It soon became very clear to me all these things were very necessary for this life before even singing a note! Slowly, very slowly, I adjusted myself to this new life and completely different way of living, for I had travelled almost nowhere. I said very slowly, for to my mind this is the only way; there are no short cuts in this career, but learning all the time with the experience of each concert, conductor or accompanist – what to do and what not to do. I might add, I have been based in Grimsby all through my career, but it would be impossible to do so now were I beginning again. There were at least four through trains to London then, and now, not even one, I’m ashamed to say, and this a so-called development area!

After my first year with Prof., working only on technique, breathing and exercises and a very occasional aria/song, in 1948 and 1949 I sang in the Glyndebourne Chorus for two Edinburgh Festival Sessions, though I knew then opera would never be my first love apart from the two possible operatic contralto roles, but good experience. I often sat on a box in the wings listening and learning from the great singers at that time.

As time moved on Kathleen (pictured below), as she became, gave me wondrous encouragement and support and I often stayed overnight after a lesson at her Frognal flat to keep Paddy Jewitt, a fellow colleague and young soprano/Henderson scholarship student/housekeeper to Kathleen company with dear Pop Ferrier whilst Kathleen was away, even sleeping in her bed to keep it aired! She even came with Paddy to my London debut at Southwark Cathedral in 1948, another incredible shock and surprise, telling me only just before we were to enter the performance! And bless her, she gave me the thumbs up after I’d sung ‘O thou that tellest.’

Kathleen’s caring and kindness continued up to her very sad and untimely death. There has never been another contralto voice to match hers (all mezzos today), nor her unique, humble, loveable and wonderful humorous personality since. What laughs we shared! I was devastated when she left us and owe her so much. Then, very slowly after hours of learning and memorizing – Prof. insisted on the latter whenever possible for complete freedom and total communication with an audience, singing from the heart and depth of one’s soul, which I always loved to do when the music and text permitted – I gradually became known and in demand all over the UK, at all the leading festivals, with all the great British orchestras, choirs and wonderful conductors, The even greater surprise was travelling throughout Europe, which I loved so much, an amazing tour out in Israel and also South America. Sadly, I am unable to give more details of the many memorable concerts and wonderful musicians and people I met in Germany, Spain, France, Portugal, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Finland, Holland, Belgium, Austria and Luxembourg, but I am so humbly grateful I was allowed to share such special memories and occasions. I made too my first recordings with Decca – Messiah, Elijah and other companies followed – RCA, Victor, Deutsche, Gramaphon/DGG, Prelude, Philips, BBC, Unicorn, Readers Digest, Wergo – and also broadcasts which, when I began, were live, my first being at 8.30am! How grateful I was when recording came to be, a totally different technique with only a microphone, unseen, completely opposite from a public concert, words/text, dynamics, interpretation and vocal colours to the fore. It was not until 1959 that I returned to opera to sing Lucretia in Britten’s ‘Rape of Lucretia’ at the Aldburgh Festival, a role I repeated again in 1960, though only two public performances each year! Then, in January 1961, came my London debut at Covent Garden singing the title role in Gluck’s ‘Orpheus’. I loved the music, but not the production, set, nor a certain nameless repetiteur! I was very unhappy, not well, and my one real comfort was Kathleen’s robe from her last performance there, sadly eight years before, which I wore throughout all the many rehearsals to prepare/cope with the long-skirted robe I was to wear, and never ending steps on the set. It was her love and spirit within her robe which cheered and urged me onwards, but I vowed I would never walk the boards again and never did, save four statutory performances of Kenneth MacMillan’s Ballet of Mahler’s glorious ‘Das Lied von der Erde’ with the wonderful Nureyev dancing. He was so kind and supportive to me too. I did sing many Orpheus concert performances later, some in German and Italian, but for me I came into this profession for the music, not production, and there were many operatic singers more suited to the stage than I.

I had met some very interesting and kindly colleagues by now – Heddle Nash, Webster Booth, Gladys Ripley, Laelia Finneberg and Elsie Suddaby. Dame Joan Sutherland was especially kind and helpful and, as with Kathleen, we shared some wonderful laughs together. A sense of humour is a must in life generally, but certainly in this profession! We first met in Brecon Cathedral singing the Pergolesi Stabat Mater when her baby son Adam (‘Pooks’) was a few months old.

Also, the lovely late Jennifer Vyvyan (pictured right with Norma and Sir Malcolm Sargent in the Grimsby Telegraph in 1959) became one of my closest colleagues and friend, both beginning from the same Prof. Henderson ‘stable’. I had many friends and acquaintances in the profession, but my very closest or specials were 

scattered far and wide and we constantly met up whilst I was on my travels. Alas, space does not allow names and details, but I must mention Norman, my brother-in-law, with real gratitude for the many hundreds of miles he has driven me on my travels. In mid-December 1961, and until September 1962, a long spell of ill-health kept me out of the profession, when sadly I missed tours in the USA and Russia, and was never given the opportunity to return again, thanks to an unnamed agent, but I re-learned the true and important priorities in life during that time and, again in 1964, when the current problems returned. Good health had always been, and still is, top of my priority list; there is no price upon it. I turned down Far Eastern/Australian tours due to lack of stamina and also missed concerts in Canada and Japan, because of clashing dates elsewhere. I was very fortunate in having a wonderful band of specialists, doctors and nurses, to whom I owe my life, and though unable to mention individuals, they all have my heartfelt gratitude. Of the many conductors I have worked with, it would be unfair to try and name them all, but I shall always remember my good fortune and special memories of Bruno Walter’s last London concert during my mid-twenties in 1955. He was an elderly man, but had the most remarkable face and amazing eyes. What a genius and what humility and kindness. It was he, with Kathleen and Peter (Pears) who first introduced me to Mahler in ‘Das Lied von der Erde’ at the Edinburgh Festival and although I knew nothing about this glorious work then, the tears just rolled down my cheeks at the end of Kathleen’s ‘Der Abschied’. I learned why later, but Mahler became and is one of my most loved composers.

Other special conductors were Sir Malcolm Sargent, Adrian Boult, Arthur Bliss, David Willcocks, John Barbarolli, Charles Groves, John Pritchard, - my original Glyndebourne Chorus Master – Norman del Mar, Rafael Kubelik, Bernard Haitink, Rafael Frunbeck de Bourgos, Josef Krips, Bernstein, Pablo Casals, Karl Richter, Louis de Froment, Sawallisch, Swarowsky, Jascha Horenstein, Stowkowsky, to name but a few. Each has his own special memory and story to tell, hence the impossible task of trying to cover my career story details.

There were many splendid accompanists too – Clifton Helliwell (BBC and my first broadcast), Frederick Stone (BBC), Ernest Lush (BBC), Britten, Gerald Moore, Paul Hamburger, Geoffrey Parsons, Alec Redshaw, Keith Swallow, Karl Engel, Aribert Reiman, Miguel Zannetti, Sebastian Peschko and many more.

Regarding favourite venues, I was always perhaps happiest in churches and cathedrals, especially in the early days when no applause was allowed and, in spite of the usual bitter cold, but always special spiritual atmospheres and acoustics. My own Lincoln Cathedral takes first pride of place being very much a humble Lincolnshire lass and ‘Meggie’ (born in Cleethorpes), and also a ‘Yellow Belly’ (Lincolnshire). The Three Choirs Festival Cathedrals of Gloucester, Hereford and Worcester, Kings College, Cambridge (where we made a private CUMS recording of my beloved ‘Dream of Gerontius’), Bath Abbey, Bristol Cathedral, Carlisle, York Minster, Westminster Abbey, where I sang just after the Coronation, still in its Coronation splendour, Basle and Zurich, Munster, both Liverpool Cathedrals and the Philharmonic Hall there.

My favourite London concert hall – the unique and much loved Albert Hall, where I sang so many special and varied concerts, the beloved Proms and a very special memory of the Last Night Prom in 1974, Many northern halls with their wonderful Victoriana/Edwardian natural acoustics – Huddersfield, Leeds, Bradford, Halifax, Free Trade Manchester, and on the Continent, the glorious ‘Golden Hall’ of the Musikverein in Vienna, the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam, the Teatro Real in Madrid, the Palacia de Musica and Lycee Opera House in Barcelona where I made my Easter pilgrimages. The Philharmonie in Berlin, Herkullesaal in Munich, the most beautiful baroque Basilica I have ever seen in Ottobeuren, a small village/town south of Munich/Bavaria and perhaps the largest and longest cathedral of all in Strasborg, to name but a few again.

I am truly and humbly honoured and grateful to have been included in this Lincolnshire Book, but must confess to considerable heartache and headache trying to give but a very brief outline and impossible precis of a thirty-five year singing career into such a short chapter, unable to give so many more details, stories and memories, or mention so many wonderful people and friends who helped me during those years and made my career possible. My apologies to them, but my heartfelt gratitude for all their inspiration, encouragement and support throughout those many long and memorable years and travels.

I must not forget another surprise and grateful honour when I was made an Honorary Member of the Royal Academy of Music in 1974 and, way back in the late sixties, when Alec (Redshaw) asked me to become President of the Grimsby Philharmonic Society, which I gratefully accepted, though in name only, as I was too busy travelling and had no desire ever to become involved in committee meetings etc, being basically a very private and shy person, never more than now, not at all ambitious and the so-called fame and limelight not my forte, but only the glorious music and its message. I retired quietly in 1983, a mortal and emotional blow for any singer or performer, but one knew it was time to stop. Since then, I have tried to pass on teaching when possible with Anne Holmes, my accompanist and friend, and in the occasional master class and jury member, revealing how very little one knows after all these years. I certainly don’t miss my suitcase and present day travel! During my career, I have received many varied thankyous, bouquets, compliments, etc, but perhaps the one I love most was from a Northern committee member, who told their President ‘By, it were worth a Bring-and-Buy Sale to ‘ave ‘er!’ Recordings include: Messiah, Elijah, Samson, Mahler’s 2nd, 3rd and 8th symphonies, Das Klagende Lied, Hartmann 1st Symphony, Malcolm Williamson’s Julius Caesar Jones, Nicholas Maw’s Scenes and Arias, Herman Suter’s Le Laudi di San Francesco d’Assisi, BBC Last Night of the Proms, Prelude recording – Brahms, Mahler Ballads, Handel’s Alcina.

A VERY BRIEF FAMILY HISTORY

Mary Norma Procter was born in Cleethorpes in 1928, the daughter of John Procter (1897-1977) and Edith Clarice Hockney (1897-1982) and younger sister of Clarice Audrey Procter (known as Audrey), born in 1924. John was a fish curer/merchant, who married Edith in Grimsby in 1922. The family eventually made their home in Clee Road, Grimsby.