Keeping the HOME FIRES burning

Inspired by Julie Summers’s nonfiction book, Jambusters, ITV’s latest drama Home Fires follows a group of women living in rural Cheshire – in the looming shadow of war. As men and boys go off to fight, the women are left to keep the fabric of the village, and indeed the nation, intact. Banding together to form the Great Paxford Women’s Institute, they acquire new skills, make new friends and learn how to survive in a challenging new world.

And if the first episode is anything to go by, the series, starring Samantha Bond, Francesca Annis, Fenella Woolgar, Frances Grey and Ed Stoppard, is not to be missed.

‘When I got a phone call from my agent saying they were going to make a series about the Women’s Institute based on a book called Jambusters, there was a bit of my heart that fell,’ admits Samantha Bond.

Bond plays Frances Barden, one of the most active members of the Great Paxford WI. ‘I’ve been very vocal about the lack of parts for middleaged ladies,’ says Bond, ‘and then I thought, “They’re going to have us make jam.” But after I read the first two scripts I was captivated.

‘I actually can make jam,’ she continues, ‘but we used all the right props from the period. When you make jam at home on your stove with your saucepan, that’s one thing, but we had great vats of this boiling fruit, it really was incredibly hot and because of the sugar it would burn. So there was a level of high anxiety that afternoon.

‘We joke about making jam but actually there was a very strong, powerful reason why these women made it: to save lives.’

With up to two-thirds of Britain’s food being imported before the war, the government realised it needed to find ways to produce more food at home. The WI answered that call in the form of preserving surplus fruit (and vegetables). For many members of the WI, preserving was a skill they already possessed. Not only did they know where to look for fruit and how to make it into jam, but they were also keen to grab their spades and get involved with the growing and to contribute in other ways.

‘They spent a lot of time knitting socks, scarves, hats and gloves to send to soldiers. They were instructed by the government to be in charge of getting wrought iron so it could be melted down. They were consulted when it came to looking for suitable accommodation for evacuees because they had local knowledge. So it wasn’t just this trivial “let’s make jam and cakes”, it was a huge movement that gave support to the rural communities,’ explains Bond.

Of course, before filming began, not everyone knew how to make jam. But Claire Price and Daniel Ryan, who play village butchers Miriam and Bryn Brindsley, certainly picked up some new skills on set.

‘It’s very clever editing because I don’t know how to make jam or how to knit but I’m hoping that the nation will believe that I can do both once they’ve watched this series,’ says Price. ‘My beef-cutting skills are quite something, though.’

Daniel Ryan explains: ‘We spent a day with a butcher… I can do anything now.’

One cast member who didn’t get the chance to pop on an apron and make jam was Ed Stoppard, who plays the village GP, Dr Will Campbell. And he was rather disappointed about it.

‘Sadly, I wasn’t around for the jam-making scenes,’ he says. ‘We have a little plum tree in our garden and so I make plum jam. My wife’s uncle is a child of the Second World War and his mum used to make damson jam when he was a child.’

Indeed, Stoppard recently made a particularly good damson jam – with a little help from his neighbour’s fruit tree. ‘Fifty yards up the road from us, in the front yard of our neighbour’s house, is a damson tree. So I grabbed a bowl and a stepladder and walked round, only to find my neighbours were not in. And I did ring the bell.

‘Evidently they were not interested in their damsons because they were all over the floor. So I collected several pounds and made, if I do say so myself, delicious damson jam.

‘I’m fairly convinced that the youth of today don’t know how to make a decent jam. As a jam maker myself, I can speak with authority,’ he smiles.

But jam aside, what else gives the drama its magic?

‘I think that when any of us are approached, the first thing is always the script and the story and Simon Block’s script leapt off the page… it’s been brought to life brilliantly by an extraordinary cast of actors and a spectacular crew. But it does always start with what’s written, what you’re being offered to work with,’ says Samantha Bond. 

Fenella Woolgar, who plays local bookkeeper Alison, adds: ‘On a personal level, we did all just get on so well. We had such laughs. I can’t tell you the number of times someone would shout “cut” or “go again” because we were laughing.’

For Claire Price, it is the women’s stories: ‘They weren’t really being told so much at the time, and their stories are all bubbling to the surface now because we want to understand the whole picture more. No one talked about it then, they were all too busy making jam and running the country.’

For producer Francis Hopkinson, this television drama conveys another, bigger message.

‘I’d love people to watch it and be reminded of what community is… It’s about people having to stick together and rely on each other. We’re so sorely lacking that at the moment. I’d love people to watch it and feel that.’

Home Fires is on ITV on Sundays at 9pm.

Foyle, the 1940s and me

Only five minutes after meeting Honeysuckle Weeks, I think she is great. Not just because she stars in the much-loved ITV series Foyle’s War (playing Samantha Stewart, Christopher Foyle’s trusted ally), but also because she had to learn to dance for the role (lindy hop, to be precise). As a lindy hopper myself, I was particularly chuff ed when she told me that ‘it was one of the most fun bits’.

As she says, ‘When there was dancing to be done – when the GIs came – I had to learn a lot. Not that I can remember it, it’s quite complicated, all that lindy hopping. It’s so sexy. ‘In our grandmothers’ day, they had all the dance halls to meet their husbands and have a great time in, but now they’ve turned them into bingo halls and nailed down the tables so no one can dance,’ she continues.

But back to Foyle’s War. Starring Honeysuckle and Michael Kitchen, and written by Anthony Horowitz, the detective series leapt on to our screens in 2002. It’s now on the nation’s list of essential viewing, alongside the likes of Poirot and Downton Abbey. 

So as the ninth series – set in the late 1940s – begins, did Honeysuckle ever think the public would take the drama so much to heart? ‘No,’ she admits. ‘I thought I’d do one pilot and that’d be it. I’m extremely proud and very grateful.

‘It’s made me well known among a certain age group – mainly the over-80s,’ she laughs. ‘But, hell, they write good letters and I’d rather have those sorts of people than anyone else, frankly.’

Honeysuckle started on the series in her early 20s and now admits that her co-star Michael Kitchen, who plays Foyle, has become a father figure to her (he even read at her wedding in 2007 to Lorne Stormonth-Darling).

‘It’s a very similar dynamic to what you see in the show; in fact it’s almost identical,’ she says. ‘Initially, I wouldn’t speak unless Michael asked me a question or unless he spoke to me first. Now I’ve earned my stripes a bit I can actually just about aff ord to be cheeky here and there. We get on very well.’

It’s no secret that writer Anthony Horowitz researches meticulously for each series, often using real people and events as inspiration. So where does Honeysuckle think he will take her character, Sam, in future series?

‘To the top, right to the top,’ she exclaims. ‘Why not? She’ll have to get a bit more cut-throat first and cut out the chaos element of her character,’ she laughs.

After all, there have been female heads of the real MI5. Why not this fictional one?

‘Anthony does so much research and his storylines are often based on real people. You’ll often get at the back of a script a page detailing the historical facts and the people on which he based all the characters.

‘That’s why it’s so popular with historians and people who love that era in history because people who really know their stuff recognise the characters.’ A grasp of the period certainly helps her performance. ‘The more information you have at your disposal the more helpful it is in terms of choices you make [for your character]. You don’t want to be too jolly in a scene where there might be consequences.

‘For example, Sam can’t be quite as plucky in this era as she was initially. People have written to me and said, “Oh, we so miss the Sam of old who’s full of enthusiasm and young and always eating sandwiches”. And I think, “Well, okay, you might miss it, but it would be inappropriate for me to be like that in a situation where as a people, as a nation, we discovered all the things that were going on in Auschwitz”. 

‘I just feel that I had to take it down a bit, given the environment in which the series is set. Also, it’s MI5 and I think anyone behaving like the Sam of old wouldn’t be taken seriously.’

Period drama also means fantastic costumes. So which pieces would she love to keep hold of? ‘The jackets and the skirts – the suits are lovely,’ she says. ‘The clothes are fabulous for a woman’s shape. They knew how to dress women despite the fact that cloth was rationed. It’s like the less they had, the better they produced it. The way they cut everything, it was so brilliantly designed.’

The hairstyle is also a big part of the character for Honeysuckle. ‘When I’m having my hair done, that’s the time I get into character. I love having my hair done, it’s so glamorous. It can really lift your cheekbones…’

Just don’t upset the wrong people, though – they may take revenge on your locks. ‘If you tick them off [the hair department], you can get some atrocious hairstyles. I’ve had some funny ones in the past – a sort of Heidi plait around my head… I obviously did something wrong in that series.’

A NEW CHARACTER’S VIEW OF THE SERIES
In episode one, John Mahoney plays Andrew Del Mar, an oil baron with possible connections to the American oil companies who worked closely with IG Farben (Germany’s biggest oil company) to provide fuel essential for Hitler’s war machine. The new series of Foyle’s War is set in 1946, when John was aged six.

‘I was born in Blackpool in 1940 because my mother had been evacuated from Manchester,’ John says. ‘But we actually came back to Withington when I was around three months old. I think she was only sent to Blackpool for my birth and until she got back on her feet.

‘I don’t have too many memories of the war and 1946. But I do remember playing in the bombed-out buildings in Manchester. We had an air-raid shelter in the back garden and we played in that. And I remember, of course, the rationing. But I don’t remember bombs falling, although my sisters did. They all had gas masks and said when I was born I had a gas pram, which were for children too young to wear gas masks. They told me how they used to love to decorate it and make it fun for me.

‘I’m a huge Foyle’s War fan. I’ve seen every episode and have given dozens of box sets of it away at Christmas to various relatives and friends. Now they’re all dying to see the new series because they’re big fans and they know I’m in it. It’s a special thing.’

AND SAM’S HUSBAND SAYS…
Daniel Weyman plays Sam’s husband, Adam Wainwright. At the end of the last series, Adam was a naive, idealistic MP. He’d worked at Bletchley Park during the war, is well educated and had risen quickly through the political ranks but had just been fired from his position as a Parliamentary Private Secretary after exposing his minister’s corruption. He’s a bit of a moral crusader.

He has also just found out that Sam is pregnant with their first child.

‘You hear eight or nine million people watch the show and you think you can’t possibly have an understanding of what that means; it’s far too big a number,’ says Daniel. ‘Then you go and film. When we filmed in Chester… a massive crowd of people gathered to watch. Lots of them clearly love Foyle and the characters. It’s very, very gratifying.

‘It reminds you that you need to do a bloody good job; you can’t mess around with something that is so close to people’s hearts. It was taken off the screen a few years ago and it was really only public opinion that brought it back. The last series was set in London and was a little murkier. It has taken the story a step forward; it’s really exciting and really gritty. The underworld stuff is thrilling.

‘It’s really interesting in the way corruption figures in Adam’s life and the fact that he is so moralistically bound. I think it would be interesting if he turned out to be an evil character after all. It would be great to play someone who seemed whiter than white and then turns out to be playing everyone all along. That would be really exciting. I’m not sure if it will happen but it would be great fun. You never know.’

Fashion on the Ration

Many believed that the outbreak of the Second World War would stifle the fashion industry and women’s ability to show their identity and creativity through their clothing. But as the new Imperial War Museum exhibition, Fashion On The Ration, reveals, women’s style thrived, despite the shortages.
The war certainly marked an end to opulent fashion. As more and more women were called up for war work in factories or to serve in the armed forces, garments had to become practical and functional. People were also urged to buy only the essentials, a disaster for clothing companies as many women – especially wealthy ones with full wardrobes – simply stopped shopping. This was made worse by the huge fluctuations in the cost of clothing.

Although women were still expected to look their best – an opinion voiced in many contemporary women’s magazines – there was a general feeling that if they let themselves go they would be letting others down, too. Initially, they were urged to dress in a feminine way, but as shortages hit harder and clothes – at least the glamorous ones – became harder to come by, they were encouraged to make the most of their looks instead. Beauty was a duty; they had to be beautiful and brave.

At the press launch in March (which happened to be the same day as my birthday - what a treat!)

Trousers became a staple, although questions were asked about when women should and should not wear them. The opinion of journalist Anne Scott James was that trousers should only be worn in the proper place – ie, for war work. This was an opinion shared by a number of men. Some even believed that women used the excuse of war to ‘parade around in slacks’ at inappropriate times.

Despite this, by 1940, ARP (Air Raid Precautions) women had been offered the choice of trousers or skirt for their uniform. After all, trousers were practical and easy to put on in a rush should one need to hurry to the Anderson shelter. Like trousers, dungarees soon became common. With practicality in mind, the Siren Suit (essentially the first onesie) was also introduced in 1940, and became a favourite of Winston Churchill. The blue or green onesies had puff ed shoulders, baggy legs, elasticated bottoms and cuffs, and a hood.

WHAT DID YOUR COUPONS GET YOU?

The introduction of rationing and the coupon scheme in June 1941 entitled every person to 66 coupons annually. More than 2.5 billion coupons were issued in the first year. But what could your coupons get you?
Knickers, corsets, aprons: 3 coupons
Stockings: 6 coupons
Skirt or a dress: 7 coupons
Women’s winter coat: 14 coupons
Men’s trousers: 8 coupons (5 for corduroy)
Men’s winter coat: 16 coupons
Men’s suit: 26 coupons Fabrics also had a coupon value. Woollen cloth, measuring 36in width, was three coupons, one coupon more than other material, owing to its durability. Blackout material was never rationed and nor were hats, which were vital in order to hide hair, which hadn’t seen shampoo for some time.

Hats did get increasingly more expensive, however, and by 1943, women began to go hat free. The Board of Trade even asked the Archbishop of Canterbury to announce that women could go to church ‘without impropriety, hatless and stockingless’. As shortages became more severe, the coupon ration was reduced to 60 in 1942- 43, and to just 41 in 1944.

On top of rationing, the Utility clothing scheme was introduced in 1942. This restricted the number of pleats in a skirt, the buttons on a coat, the length of men’s socks, and forbade turn-ups on trousers, which was deeply unpopular among men.

Worried this could damage morale, the Board of Trade hired top London couturiers to produce mass-production designs, all of which had to include the letters CC41, standing for Civilian Clothing Order 1941. Calling on designers such as the Queen’s couturier Norman Hartnell, along with Digby Morton and Captain Edward Molyneux, and two women designers – Bianca Mosca and Elspeth Champcommunal, who led the world-renowned House of Worth, massively increased the profile of Utility clothing. For the first time, garments from top designers were available to all and the visible gap in clothing between the upper and lower classes, which was hugely marked before 1939, was now closing.

Another positive was that clothes produced under rationing and the Utility scheme had to last and be of good quality – in fact, I’m writing this wearing an original 1940s dress and it’s still in perfect condition.

MAKE DO AND MEND

In 1942, the government also introduced the Make Do and Mend scheme, encouraging women to rifle through their wardrobes and repair and make the most of older items. The Women’s Institute was already educating the public in thrifty fashion but the Board of Trade printed its own leaflet in 1943. Advice was given on patching and darning, and sold half a million copies in the first two weeks. The scheme also saw the government create Mrs Sew-and-Sew and by 1943 she appeared in magazines, encouraging people to take part in classes run by the Women’s Voluntary Service and the WI. A patch on your clothes was no longer a sign of disadvantage: it was a badge of honour.

Women began to make clothes out of all sorts. Old blankets became winter coats, curtains became skirts, architect’s paper boiled down became underwear, and parachute material became dresses, wedding dresses, nightwear, and knickers. It was a matter of pride, being able to take old materials and create something wearable. A highlight of the exhibition is a pair of silk camiknickers and a bra created from a map for Patricia, the daughter of Lord and Lady Mountbatten. A less popular suggestion from the WI was to collect dog fur and spin it to make wool and knit socks.

WOMEN IN UNIFORM

By 1940, 15 million Britons were in uniform. Mirroring this, fashion began to take its lead from the war. The government approached designers to help when it came to producing women’s uniforms and Irish designer Digby Morton created the uniform for the WVS. A woman in uniform became a powerful symbol, used in a number of advertisements. Fortnum’s advertised ‘clothing for heroines’, while Helena Rubinstein produced a lipstick in the shade ‘Regimental Red’. Women should never be without the red badge of courage, as it was often called.

By 1940 many magazines began to run advertisements for clothing with a military touch, too. Although some women disliked uniforms as they felt that they lacked femininity, the majority wore theirs with immense pride.

The Women’s Royal Naval Service was the uniform that was most admired, thanks to its flattering fit. WRNS members were also given coupons to get stockings, much to the jealousy of the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force and other services.

GOING TO THE CHAPEL

In the rush to marry sweethearts before they left for the war, 1939 saw the greatest number of marriages ever registered in Britain. Many prospective brides resorted to borrowing dresses, while others opted for two pieces. Women in the services were expected to marry in uniform. The author Barbara Cartland, then an adviser to young women new to the services, was determined that they should marry in a wedding dress, despite the shortages.

She started by placing an ad in The Lady seeking to buy two wedding gowns. And when she was successful, she continued to buy more, creating a wedding-dress pool. Each dress was lent to a bride for the day, then given back and passed to another. Cartland ended up buying hundreds of dresses (she bought them out of her own pocket, realising that ‘those dresses were made of more than satin and tulle, lace and crepe de Chine; they were made of dreams, and one cannot sell dreams cheaply’) and hundreds of women married in them.

LBD: LITTLE BLACKOUT DRESSING

The blackout saw civilian car accidents rise from 6,648 in 1938 to 9,169 in 1941 – despite there being fewer cars on the road. Clearly something needed to be done and it was fashion that answered the call. Imaginative companies, as well as designing handbags that would conceal a gas mask, began to market luminous buttons and flowers that women could attach to their clothing, enabling them to be visible during the blackout.

AFTER THE WAR

Despite some restrictions on clothing being eased for men towards the end of the war, those on women’s clothing remained until 1946. It was believed women’s morale was higher so they could wait. Dior’s New Look in 1947 helped blow away the constraints of austerity, despite the fact that a number of women feared that these huge, restrictive skirts would push them back into their pre-war lives. Others felt it might be too opulent after the shortages.

Post-war, women thought differently about the way they dressed: they had to be inventive. The legacy of rationing and Utility clothing was huge. It effectively led to mass-market fashion, with chain stores flourishing, creating clothes for all budgets.

The resounding message of Fashion On The Ration is that women, thanks to their adaptability and ingenuity, not only kept the fires burning on the home front, but did so while looking stylish. Go, ladies.

Fashion On The Ration: 1940s Street Style, is at IWM London, Lambeth Road, London SE1, until 31 August: 020-7416 5000, www.iwm.org.uk

The sound that changed Britain

It was an age of change. The world had been hit by a devastating financial crash and would soon march into the Second World War. But in the late 1920s and early 1930s, Britain was also moving to a new rhythm. Jazz and the big-band sound were taking the country by storm, a cultural revolution.

Many credit the Original Dixieland Jazz Band – which went on tour in 1919, appearing at the London Hippodrome in the first official jazz gig in the UK – for creating an interest in jazz in Britain. But one of the earliest and most influential names associated with the early jazz scene on this side of the Atlantic was Fred Elizalde.

Elizalde was regularly broadcast on the BBC between 1926 and 1929 – despite the red-faced complaints of Establishment  figures who thought his sound was a bad influence and far too ‘riotous’. In fact, this new fast-paced music was banned at some dances, as the young women being spun and flung into the air by their partners revealed stocking tops and even their underwear.

Ina Ray Hutton

Philippines-born Elizalde sought to bring a more American sound to British dance music, which at the time had a Viennese ballroom quality. And through his recordings with Brunswick and Decca, and his residency at The Savoy Hotel, he brought many of the best early jazz players into the limelight – including Harry Hayes and Norman Payne, and Americans Arthur Rollini and Bobby Davis. His band made such an impact on the music scene that in 1928 the famous weekly music paper, Melody Maker, named them the best dance orchestra.

Female jazz musicians, meanwhile, were few and far between. Although occasionally singing with big bands, women had still to find a market for their music. But the ‘blonde bombshell of rhythm’, Ina Ray Hutton, realised that a high quality, all girl jazz band could be a huge hit, famously saying, ‘If curves attract an audience, so much the better.’ Her band, The Melodears, performed frequently during the 1930s, appearing on The Big Broadcast of 1936 alongside Bing Crosby and Al Bowlly.

Originally put together by Irving Mills, the band, under the management of Hutton, was a huge success, touring solidly for five years. They also appeared in their own films, including Feminine Rhythm, Accent On Girls, and Swing, Hutton, Swing. Despite the band’s popularity, however, Hutton was tired of her act being seen as a novelty and she disbanded The Melodears. While her name is not widely known today, she paved the way for a number of female bands that took off˜ in the 1940s.

But things didn’t always run smoothly even for giants such as Elizalde. In fact, despite his band’s popularity, it was reported that older guests who attended his set at The Savoy were ‘o˜ffended’ by his music – and his contract was not renewed when it expired in 1929.

Fortunately, radio and record companies gave musicians the freedom to exist beyond the confines of theatres and music halls, allowing names such as Bert Ambrose (who employed Art Tatum, one of the best jazz pianists to date), Lew Stone, Ray Noble and Al Bowlly (Britain’s answer to American crooners like Bing Crosby) to burst on to the music scene with dance band tunes and sentimental ballads, such as Goodnight, Sweetheart, and Love Is The Sweetest Thing.

Spike Hughes, for example, became so popular that he was invited to New York to lead and compose for Benny Carter’s Orchestra (a major figure on the scene and referred to by many as The King). Carter himself would later become staff˜ arranger for the BBC Dance Orchestra in 1935.

The rise of radio, however, didn’t always work in this new sound’s favour. John Reith, the first Director-General of the BBC, for instance, strongly believed that culture should provide ediffication, not entertainment. While he did give dance music a significant amount of air time, in 1929 he decided to ban the announcement of song titles, meaning people wouldn’t be able to find out which tracks they played. Public disapproval soon saw this decision reversed.

Fats Waller

As the period wore on, the jazz sound slowly evolved into swing thanks to musicians such as Benny Goodman. But a flurry of recent costume dramas proves that we still have a huge appetite for the sound, as well as the look, of this exciting bygone era.

1930S CLASSICS TO REGISTER ON YOUR RADAR
Ray Noble Orchestra Often paired with the timeless vocals of Al Bowlly, tracks such as The Very Thought of You; Goodnight, Sweetheart, and Midnight, The Stars And You are classics.

Bert Ambrose And His Orchestra Asked to put together and lead his own band at the tender age of 20, Ambrose recorded classics such as Too Many Tears, When Day Is Done and Bye Bye Blues. He also brought ‘The Forces’ Sweetheart’, Vera Lynn, into the limelight.

Fats Waller Undeniably one of the best jazz pianists ever, Fats’s humour and talent shine through every track he recorded. Honeysuckle Rose, Stardust, and Ain’t Misbehavin’ are among his best.

Love… with strings attached

The Roaring Twenties were the setting for the most recent series of Downton Abbey, the years of the devastating Wall Street Crash – and, of course, the heyday of the Jazz Age. Less known, however, is the humble four-stringed mini-guitar that was also the defining image, and sound, of that decade.

Originating from Portugal, it was taken to Hawaii by immigrants in the late 19th century. The ukulele hit the big time when performers such as Johnny Marvin and Cliff Edwards picked it up, and its basic, four-string build made it very popular with amateur players and those keen to learn a new instrument.

But its golden age didn't last, and  the 'uke' saw a slump in popularity during the 1970s and 1980s when it became about as cool as socks and sandals. Despite this, however, it has always retained a cult following and is as popular as ever.

The uke's popularity in Hawaii was spearheaded by Manuel Nunes. In 1879, he established himself as the first specialist ukulele manufacturer, and his name personified the instrument for the next 40 years. When Nunes died in 1922, his son Leonardo took over the business and continued to make ukes through the 1930s. The high level of Leonardo and Manuel's craftsmanship made their instruments incredibly prized the world over.

Two of the earliest stars of the ukulele world were Ernest Ka'ai and Cliff Edwards. Ka'ai was known as Hawaii's greatest ukulele player with many knowing him as the 'father of the ukulele'. Ka'ai was the first musician to establish the uke as a solo instrument in its own right. On top of being a highly skilled player, he also composed and published uke sheet music. He also was the first person to write the uke instruction book – in short, without Ka'ai, the uke probably would not be as popular as it is today.

Cliff Edwards, aka 'Ukulele Ike', played a huge part in taking its sound to continental America and establishing its place in popular music during the 1920s and 1930s. Ike, after all, was one of the biggest names of the Jazz Age. His crooning style and the sound of the ukulele saw hits such as I'll See You In My Dreams and When You Wish Upon A Star (which became Disney's signature tune after its use in Pinocchio) become the must-have 78 records in every home.

As the 20th century rolled on, the names associated with the uke became bigger and brighter. Although it was never featured as an accompaniment in his recordings, Bing Crosby used the uke frequently in his Road To... films, in which he starred with Bob Hope and Dorothy Lamour. Laurel and Hardy also used the uke in many of their films, including Sons Of The Desert and Way Out West.

And as the instrument's popularity increased, so did its sex appeal. Hipswinging singer Elvis Presley abandoned his rock'n'roll image in the mid 1960s and replaced it with a new surfer-boy look, and took up wearing a Hawaiian shirt and playing the ukulele He starred in three films with his new image: Blue Hawaii; Girls! Girls! Girls! and Paradise, Hawaiian Style. Presley sheet music for the ukulele could also be found in music shops everywhere.

Marilyn Monroe playing the ukulele in Some Like It Hot is one of the most iconic images in the uke's colourful history. Sadly, no one knows whether she was actually playing the instrument or miming.

But George Formby is undoubtedly the most recognised ukulele artist. He started his career in the music halls, but things didn't take off until he introduced the uke to his act in the mid 1920s. His ukulele tunes, including When I'm Cleaning Windows and With My Little Stick Of Blackpool Rock (originally banned by the BBC due to its sauciness) led to a huge increase in uke sales.

Today we have the Ukulele Orchestra Of Great Britain, which performs everything from Tchaikovsky to Nirvana. It could yet become the soundtrack to the future.

Interview: John Wilson

Last year I was lucky enough to get to chat to living legend, John Wilson...

The start of the production of musicals by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM) marked the beginning of the golden age of musicals on the big screen. Despite this, and their clear importance in cinematic history, the musical scores were destroyed in 1969.

According to John Wilson, composer, and saviour of musicals as we know them, the attitude at the time was that these sheets of paper had served their purpose. The films were made, the soundtracks recorded, so who would need to look at dusty old sheet music again?

How wrong they were. It is only due to the diligence and dedication of Wilson that we are able to go and see newly staged versions of these epic musicals. After all, with no score to follow, how would the band know how to strike the right note?

Wilson is one of our best composers and arrangers, and his love of music started from an early age. Now a film-music specialist, he has painstakingly and single-handedly reconstructed the scores of a number of MGM musicals after he wanted to play some of the music and discovered there were no scores to follow.

 ‘I was always obsessed with music,’ he says. ‘Even when I was a toddler, things would come on the television or the radio and I’d apparently go crazy in my highchair.

‘When I was four or five I had an aptitude for the piano. I didn’t have any lessons but I could just go and pick tunes up on my granny’s and my school’s piano. My mother gave me some rudimentary lessons but it wasn’t until I was about 11 that I started to take proper lessons.’

Despite his stellar reputation, his passion for conducting arose by chance. ‘I started to get into playing the drums for amateur theatricals and orchestras, and then I got into writing music and arrangements for them, and playing piano in rehearsals. That led eventually, in a roundabout way, to conducting; somebody pulled out from a production of a musical and I was asked to step in and conduct it. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing; I was about 15 but I got the bug then.’

His interest in MGM musicals also came early. ‘They used to be on the telly on a Saturday afternoon when I was a child. I remember listening to them and not caring about what was in them or the plot or who the stars were. I was interested in the music.

‘I didn’t know why then, but years later I realised I was listening to some of the most sophisticated music in the world. My passion, my enthusiasm, is only really for those musicals of a certain era, and specifically the
songs. I’ve always been fascinated by songs by Richard Rodgers, Jerome Kern, Irving Berlin, Cole Porter… those great songwriters who flourished in the first part of the 20th century. We now know that it was an era of such expertise and such talent that the music speaks for itself. It’s the highest standard of composition we’ve ever known.’

This passion led to him taking on the task that has become his life’s work. ‘I went to Warner Bros who had bought MGM by that point, and I said, “I want to cover this music; I know it’s all been destroyed. Will you let me do it?” They said, “Well, who are you?” and “Shows us what you can do.’’

‘They gave me a test piece, something from High Society. I sent it back and then I got a phone call from the original librarian at Warner Bros. He was impressed enough by what I’d done to give me a free reign to restore whatever pieces I wanted to do. So I’ve spent the last 15 years doing it.’

Wilson’s work on writing out the score for High Society took him a year. ‘I never watched the film, I just listened to the soundtrack, but I do particularly like that film,’ he says.

The orchestra he assembled has become something of a staple at the Proms, where it has consistently received outstanding reviews since its first performance there in 2009.

‘It was assembled over a 20-year period but it’s been settled for about 10 years now. It was trial and error. Nothing good and worthwhile in life comes instantly; you have to work really hard at playing together, getting the right people in the right seats . Once it was established the challenge has been funding it. We don’t get any public subsidies so every concert could be our last, unless it’s sold out; unless we really deliver. So there is no complacency at all.

‘There is an added pressure with my orchestra,’ he continues, ‘because people’s expectations are so high. I have to try and do my best, not only for the audience but for the musicians too. I feel a responsibility for them; I have to give them my best as well.’

A string of accomplished singers perform with the John Wilson Orchestra, from Joyce DiDonato to Family Guy creator Seth MacFarlane. And as Wilson revealed in an earlier interview, there was once a very famous dancer in the audience, whose appreciation surely sealed his place alongside names such as Rodgers and Hammerstein.

‘Once, when playing for tea at the Grosvenor House hotel, an elderly lady in a wheelchair smiled, applauded each number and then bought me and the violinist tea. We thanked her, ate our tea and carried on playing. Only when she had left did I discover it was Ginger Rogers.’

The Thigh Clap

I am a curvy size 12/14 (I can squeeze my waist into a size 10 50s style cinched in dress or skirt - a fact I'm rather chuffed with) and I am incredibly comfortable in my own skin. Without wanting to sound like a big headed knob, I actually love the way I look.

This includes my chunky thighs (and my large bum, hips and tummy).

But although I like how I look, I don't always love the way I sound. Yes, any dancer with larger thighs will know exactly where I'm about to go here... the dreaded thigh clap.

I remember the first time it happened. I was helping to teach a class, It was a warm summers evening so I had bare legs. Whilst demonstrating a move with my partner I heard it. The sound of my wobbly thighs clapping together. I was mortified. Had others heard it? Did this happen to other people?

I wondered if anyone else had heard the cacophony of clapping from my never regions...

Now with warmer weather approaching and I'm starting to put my tights away, thoughts of the thigh clap are at the fore. Especially as I'm off to Swing Crash in Italy in June.

Luckily I know I'm not alone, gin fueled conversations with my girlfriends has shown that I'm not the only one in the Thigh Clap Club or the TCC if you will.

Still I'm wondering what others who have had this happen to them do? Some of my friends wear little shorts, but I get hot dancing as it is, without another layer of clothing.

So far I have yet to find a solution so I have decided to look at the bright side. At least someone will be clapping me when I dance!