Robert and Elizabeth: Australia

Denis Quilley as Robert Browning

souvenir programme

June Bronhill as Elizabeth Barrett

souvenir programme

R&E

THE AUSTRALIAN production of ROBERT AND ELIZABETH opened in Melbourne on May 21st, 1966. By strange coincidence. May 21st is a very important date in this most romantic story of two poets m love, for this was the date on which the handsome brilliant Robert Browning walked into No. 50 Wimpole Street and saw for the first time Elizabeth Barrett. That was 121 years ago, in 1845. Today, their immortal love story has been given new magic with the wonderful musical score by Australian composer RON GRAINER and the lyrics and libretto by RONALD MILLAR.

ROBERT AND ELIZABETH opened in London on October 20th. 1964. Because of the great number of Australians connected with the production, the newspapers quickly dubbed the show "The Australians of Wimpole Street" For apart from the composer, there was not only JUNE BRONHILL who starred as 'Elizabeth', but her 'Robert' was an Australian, and so were 16 other members of the cast. This was so marked that, when I first saw the show in London with my family, none of us would believe that we were 13,000 miles away from Australia.

Our connection with this musical dates back to 1963 when my father released June Bronhill from her engagement in 'The Merry Widow' so that she might return to England for preliminary rehearsals of a musical adaptation of 'The Barretts of Wimpole Street', the famous play by Rudolph Besier. ROBERT AND ELIZABETH became a triumphant success in London's West End; in fact, the opening of the Melbourne season marked its 732nd performance at the Lyric Theatre where it is still playing strongly. Long before its London opening, MARTIN LANDAU, the London impresario, offered Garnet Carroll the Australasian rights and other interests in this musical.

WE ARE OF COURSE THRILLED to have our own JUNE BRONHILL to play the role she created in London, and we are happy to present as her co-star, in the role of 'Robert Browning', the well-known West End and Broadway leading man DENIS QUILLEY.

A young, tall Australian actor first walked the boards of the Princess Theatre as a spear carrier during the Andew McMaster Shakespearian Season about 18 years ago. He is now one of Australia's best-known actors with an international reputation in film and stage productions — none other than FRANK THRING who plays the tyrannical father 'Edward Moulton-Barrett'.

On the production side we are proud to have been able to combine the great talents of our director CHARLES HICKMAN with those of choreographer GEORGE CARDEN. These two artists have been associated with four West End musicals, but this is the first time they have worked together in Australia. As Londoner Charles Hickman considers Australia his second home and is so happily remembered by Melbourne audiences for his many brilliant presentations for this management, his association with Australian George Carden gives our production another Australian link. Settings and costumes were designed by London designer MALCOLM PRIDE but executed in our own workshops, with the exception of some costumes which came direct from London.

IN OUR PRESENTATION of ROBERT AND ELIZABETH we are once again associated with Mr. KENN BRODZIAK and THE AUSTRALIAN ELIZABETHAN THEATRE TRUST, and we are delighted to have Mr MARTIN LANDAU reciprocate our London business connection with him.

John G. H. Carroll

(Introductory notes from the Princess Theatre souvenir programme)

Frank Thring as Edward Moulton-Barrett

souvenir programme

The Cast and Production Personnel

N.B. Captain Surtees Cook was renamed Captain Brooke in the Australian production

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The Director

The Choreographer

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Unfair to Mr. B. ?

QUESTION: Was Mr. Edward Moulton-Barrett of Wimpole Street really the tyrannical father he has always been made out to be?

"I think not", claims June Bronhill, star of Robert and Elizabeth which is based on 1930 play The Barretts of Wimpole Street by Rudolph Besier. The play and two subsequent films on the same subject helped to turn Mr. Barrett into a king-sized ogre.

June Bronhill began studying the Barrett family before she was picked for the show.

Her plausible theory goes like this:

"After his wife's death Mr. Barrett had to cope with nine children (ages from 4 to 22), plus money trouble. He had to be firm to keep this brood in line, but there's plenty of evidence to show that his children adored him.

"If anyone dominated that famous household it was surely Elizabeth. She was the eldest. There was nothing much wrong with her, but she was extremely neurotic. When her favourite brother, Edward, drowned she would not allow anyone to mention his name. Most of the time she was also doped up to the eyebrows. Her sweetheart poet, Robert Browning, got her off most of the drugs, except opium. My research suggests she was an opium eater to the end of her life".

June is 4 ft. 11½", and the real Elizabeth, whom she portrays, was tiny, too. She had beautiful white teeth, and big dark eyes fringed with very long lashes. She wore her hair loose in long ringlets.

She was 40 when she married Robert Browning – he was six years younger. She fell in love with Robert before they met. He conquered her with these words in a letter: "I love your books with all my heart and I love you, too"

(notes from the Princess Theatre souvenir programme)

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Elizabeth with her brothers, Charles (Ian Smith), Henry (Rod Anderson) & Octavius (Andrew Guild)

The Reviews

Handsome musical is here to stay

Robert and Elizabeth
Theatre: Princess

SOMETHING of Browning's confidence spread from the stage on Saturday night and infected everyone at the opening of this new musical. This time it looks at though the Princess has one of those productions which has come to stay.

It has warmth and charm, a nice blend of the romantic and the comic, and a very good cast supporting June Bronhill all the way. There has been no stinting on the mounting and production. It is a mighty handsome musical.

The love affair of Robert and Elizabeth Browning was the great romance of its period. When it was the fashion for fictional heroines to die gracefully, the Brownings proved that truth could be happier — and more respectable.

Rudolph Besier's play, which has become familiar as a film, did not have to twist the facts; the elements of the fairy tale were all on record. Elizabeth is the maiden locked in a tower, at 60 Wimpole Street.

Her father, Edward Moulton-Barrett, is the dragon guarding the door, and Browning the dashing young knight who rescues her from his claws after wooing her like a true troubador.

Ronald Miller has based his book firmly on the play and achieved a workable compromise which sacrifices the verbal subtleties both poets delighted in, but does not vulgarise them.

The lyrics between the lovers were more of a test; one must regard them as part of the spoken dialogue and not in competition with the one Browning poem set to music. This is not presented spontaneously but as a recital of a finished poem.

This is an acceptable middle-brow solution, and Ron Grainger, the prolific London – Australian composer, has echoed it in his musical setting.

The score makes no pretence at novelty, but the writing is craftsmanly and Grainer has the great, popular gift of being able to produce melodies to fit every occasion from a good, beefy love duet to a comic patter-song. Several of them will be whistled around the town for a long time to come.

June Bronhill makes full use of them, and so does Denis Quilley, as the young Browning. Bronhill admirers believe that she can do no wrong, and my faint doubts about her suitability as the intense and intellectual ''Portuguese" were soon discarded. The essence of the character was there, and she commanded the stage without strain.

Quilley's Browning was a good counterpart. An actor before he became a singer, he played the poet with intelligence and a fine touch of fervor. He also made it clear that he was both a scholar and a gentleman, which is important.

As for Frank Thring, he gave a monumentally evil study of the Victorian tyrant, bringing out ugly hints of sexual perversion in the Laughton manner. Some enthusiastic booing showed that he had scored a hit, but he was much more subtle and sinister than a stage villain.

In an even and enthusiastic cast I noted the impulsive Henrietta Barrett, well sung by Valmai Johnston, and her innocent, imposing lover, cleverly done by Elliot Cairnes. The whole family plays as a team.

Madelaine Orr obeys instructions to make Wilson, the personal maid, a comic, an idea which does not quite come off. She is too important to the story. But it was good fun seeing Jon Finlayson playing the tragedian Macready as a roaring ham.

This is a long show, but it does not seem long.

Charles Hickman's production is well timed and speeded up by elaborate stage mechanics.

GEOFFREY HUTTON.

The Age (Melbourne), 23 May 1966, p.5

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A confrontation in the garden between Browning and Barrett, as Elizabeth helplessly looks on.

Elizabeth gathers strength during her dramatic Soliloquy

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Musical a masterpiece of entertainment

SHOW: "Robert and Elizabeth."
THEATRE: Princess.

THIS is one of those rare masterpieces of entertainment that musicals can become, and, in this production, it has everything working for its success.

June Bronhill is acting better than ever, even in bed and wheelchair, as she must be for a large part of this story of Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett.

Her singing is strong and clear, and in this she has good support from leading man Denis Quilley and a balanced chorus.

Quilley’s acting is the feature of the central story, apart from Miss Bronhill’s singing. He is quite dashing in tall hat, yellow gloves and elegant 1845 clothes.

He has good looks and good voice and adds up to an ideal Browning.

Frank Thring can’t sing, which is a pity, but he gets away with his big singing scene by talking the lyric on what could have been a shock number: “I’m The Master Here,” which he, as father Barrett, sings with his six cringing sons.

His slow and even awkward movement on stage actually help build the figure of the cruel, dominating psychopathic father.

The measure of his success was an appreciative friendly booing at the final curtain for his nasty role.

For Bronhill it was a shower of violets and carnations (which patrons had found pinned to their seats on arrival.)

Ron Grainer’s music matches the plot and characters superbly, and is full of Puccini-like climaxes that thrill an involved audience – and you can’t help being involved in this human story.

Musical director Alan Barker conducted with more understanding of the needs of a musical than anyone we have had for years.

The orchestra was kept down, so we heard the words and the voices, yet it built its climaxes, and retained a good balance.

The eight Barrett children, apart from Elizabeth, are a major character and choral part of the show and casting here is excellent.

The choreography and their several big scenes are as important, and effective, as their songs.

Producer Charles Hickman must have been pleased when the complicated scene changes worked so smoothly, especially the transformation scene from house to garden that brought a round of applause mid scene.

The show ranks with “My Fair Lady” and “West Side Story,” and is practically an established hit after only one night.

HOWARD PALMER

The Sun News-Pictorial (Melbourne), 23 May 1966, p.28

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Bella Hedley (Judy Banks) flaunts herself before Barrett telling him "What's natural".

Bella encounters Browning in the Cremorne Gardens in fashionable Chelsea.

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GAIETY AND STRENGTH IN MUSICAL

MUSICAL: "Robert and Elizabeth", by Ron Grainer and Ronald Millar.
THEATRE: Princess.
SEASON: Indefinite.

THIS long awaited musical based on the play "The Barretts of Wlmpole Street" proves to be satisfying entertainment in every way.

It is a solid, real story, the music by Australian Ron Grainer is lively and only occasionally reminiscent, and the casting and production are first-class.

On Saturday night it was flowers, flowers all the way from the violets and carnations pinned to the seats to the showering of the stage at the end.

The story of the love of Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett and of her emancipation from the monstrous domination of her father is told with both strength and gaiety.

We are never in doubt, though there is little direct quotation, that they are both poets, both people who are larger than life-size.

FINE BLENDING

June Bronhill, whose voice is so well known to Melbourne audiences, plays the 40-year-old hypochondriac Elizabeth with the same intelligence that she reveals in her straight-from-the-shoulder program note on the woman poet's character.

Denis Quilley is a sound actor with a most pleasing voice, and makes an admirable Browning.

Frank Thring, as Barrett the father, gives a careful and characteristic performance in an unaccustomed area of theatre.

Valmai Johnston as Henrietta Barrett, Judy Banks as the lively, lisping cousin Bella and Jon Finlayson as actor Macready—stand out in the generally even cast.

The only part about which I was not happy was that of Elliott Cairnes, as a Guards officer. He seemed to have been chosen entirely for the comic effect of his great height.

Under Charles Hickman's direction the grouping and movement was always pleasant. The sets are elaborate in design and brilliant in operation —much might have gone wrong and so very little did.

The orchestra, directed by Alan Barker, was never intrusive. We heard every word.

—H. A. STANDISH

The Herald (Melbourne), 23 May 1966, p.6

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Barrett spits out his abomination of "What the World Calls Love", which Elizabeth repudiates.

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THEATRE

It's Got It

Robert and Elizabeth. Directed by Charles Hickman. Princess, Melbourne.

WHEN the Rons Millar and Grainer settled down to write themselves a hit musical they very sensibly took a leaf or three from the book and score of Lerner and Loewe. Like the MFL men, their starting point was a successful play, and while "The Barretts of Wimpole Street" is no "Pygmalion" it's not without its useful similarities.

The setting remains gas-lit London, so the designers can go to town on elegant gowns, interiors, and street-scenes. Foremost phoneticist Higgins becomes famous poet Browning, and the central conflict once again concerns the hero's determined efforts to transform a reluctant heroine. Where the authoritarian Professor took a flower-girl and made her into a lady, Robert's alchemy is to change a bed-ridden neurotic into a woman. In fact, the scene in which Browning makes Elizabeth walk is so like that in which Higgins triumphs over Eliza's vowels that, at the sight of her first tottering steps, one waits for him to cry "By George, she's got it! I think she's got it!"

While Eliza, out in the cold, warbles that all she wants is a room somewhere, Elizabeth, locked far away from the cold night air, sings poignantly of "The World Outside." And both girls have their father troubles. Alfred Doolittle and Edward Moulton-Barrett are poles apart socio-economically, but they do give their respective proceedings a touch of villainy and most of the laughs.

Ron Grainer's apt and vivid themes for "Steptoe," "Maigret," and "Dr. Who" show his inventiveness as a pop composer, but his talk-songs for Robert and Edward are unashamedly derivative. The lyrical numbers are more individual, but are hampered by the lyricist. Millar, who dramatised C. P. Snow's "The Masters," dares for example to have one of England's greatest poets sing that the Moon fell like a rocket right into his pocket.

But enough nit-picking. The show will, of course, be a thumping success. The ingredients are proven and the production unstinting. Sets, costumes, and supporting cast aren't brilliant, but they're bright, and Alan Barker's orchestra is the best we've heard in a musical for years. Then there are the principals, all liberally endowed with star quality. Frank Thring plays Father Barrett like a Tory Dracula. Most women would climb happily in or out of bed for Denis Quilley's Browning, while the diminutive June Bronhill delivered her lines, songs, and curtain-speech with supreme skill and assurance.

She also contributes some program notes, gleanings from her personal research into the Barretts. She considers incestuous Edward maligned. It was the neurotic Elizabeth that dominated 50 Wimpole Street. And far from being a Doulton figurine, she was "an opium eater" to her dying day.

Thus, two perfectly good illusions are shattered.

PHILLIP ADAMS

The Bulletin (Sydney), 4 June 1966, p.48

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A happy finale as Robert and Elizabeth arrive in Florence, while Wilson (Madeleine Orr) attends to Flush the dog.

Production photos by F. R. Johnson taken at the Tivoli Theatre, Sydney in November 1964 (Mitchell Collection, State Library of New South Wales)

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WET WELCOME FOR COMPOSER

Brisbane's weather – a near-cyclone with eight inches of rain, followed by bitter westerlies – let down Ron Grainer, famous Queensland-born composer of enchanting music, home after 14 years.

AND this after he had told friends in London he had never known rain in Brisbane in June.

But the fair-haired, handsome 44-year-old composer was not disturbed. He said mildly, "The sun will shine again."

Ron Grainer wrote the music for "Robert and Elizabeth," the story of poet Robert Browning, his frail wife, Elizabeth, and her stern father, now playing in Melbourne with June Bronhill as the star.

He flew to Australia to see the Melbourne production and to visit his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Ron Grainer, sen., of Clayfield, whom he hasn't seen since he left for overseas 14 years ago.

After Melbourne, he plans to visit his sister Marjorie, Mrs. J. Scully, of Mysterton, Townsville, North Queensland.

The London production of "Robert and Elizabeth," which also opened with June Bronhill, still packs crowds after a two-year run.

And Ron Grainer often goes to the London show to "keep an eye on the production."

He explained, "Things can change very gradually, without performers or orchestra being aware, particularly if you haven't seen it for a while.

"There can be changes in tempo, in interpretation, in dynamics. It tends to flatten out. If you don't have dynamic contrasts, you get almost a Minnie Mouse kind of production."

Ron Grainer said the music he had written for "Robert and Elizabeth" was quite different from any of his TV themes known to Australian viewers – "Steptoe," "Maigret," the "Comedy Playhouse" series, and "Dr. Who."

"Certain kinds of stories force the composer into a pattern," he said. "The effect I get in TV themes has to do partly with the instruments I choose."

How did he find the unusual and different-sounding melodies that have won him fame?

"Sometimes I may get a distinct idea – perhaps in the bath or driving – a sequence of notes or a particular sound in my head that may be the eventual thing," he said. "It may be rather rough.

"Normally I have to be by myself to get it in the initial stages.

"I have often written with people around me, but nearly always people on the same job.

"Atmosphere plays a great part. I cannot work when there is music. It blocks my mind. I can work in aeroplanes . . . jets . . . they don't affect me at all."

Success has brought Ron Grainer what he describes as "an awful lot to do."

"There is little time for leisure, but the life I lead in England has its own stimulation because I am mixing with many people – and minds sharpen themselves on other minds."

Ron Grainer has worked hard for his success. He had jobs in nightclubs, variety, and cabarets when he arrived in London. He got his first break in 1955, when a TV producer wanted music for a mandolin and piano.

"I have seen both sides of life, the really lean, and the successful," he said. "To have had a struggle makes one more realistic about it, inclined not to sit back and fear the alternative to success."

When not at his flat in the West End of London, Ron Grainer is at his home in Portugal. His daughter Rel is there now.

"In Portugal I love the water, the swimming, sun-bathing, and walking," he said. "It is a lovely climate very similar to Brisbane, except the other way round. They normally have their rain in winter and Brisbane usually has its rain in summer.''

But this time Brisbane proved him wrong!

- JEAN BRUCE

The Australian Women's Weekly, Wednesday, 29 June 1966, p.4

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June Bronhill recalled her final London performance and the lead up to the subsequent Australian production

It really was quite the most extraordinary closing night for me. I had been with the show for nineteen months, and apart my short holiday, I'd only missed four performances. Everybody gave me the most beautiful presents, lovely things that I will always treasure.

During those last few weeks, I had discovered that I was having a bit of trouble with my throat. I was not singing as well in certain parts of my voice as I knew I should be, and I was coughing a lot. My speaking voice offstage was very husky and I felt that I was very tired — after all, I was at the end of a nineteen-month season of eight performances a week, which is a lot of singing! But I thought a few days in Honolulu on the way to Australia and a couple of days rest when I got to Sydney and I would be all right. But it wasn't to be, was it! We flew to Honolulu and had five days there during which my throat became steadily worse. When I eventually arrived in Australia I knew that there was something very wrong with me.

We arrived in Sydney at about 7.30 in the morning and I was met by my dear singing teacher, Madame Mathy, who had arrived with a couple of bottles of chilled champagne. A couple of other friends and quite a barrage of press also met me. I skilfully hid my husky voice and carried it off well. The following day there was a big welcoming party to meet the Australian cast. My Robert was a wonderful English actor, Denis Quilley, and my father was a man we all love dearly, Frank Thring, a marvellous actor and a wonderful character. Halfway through the cocktail party, my throat was really getting very bad. I said to Richard that I thought I should go back to the hotel and not talk any more. My voice was really very husky indeed. John Carroll, of Garnet Carroll Productions, who were putting on the show, made an appointment for me to see Melbourne's top throat specialist the following morning. The specialist said I definitely had a nodule, something all singers are terrified of getting. He was an elderly gentleman and he said, ‘I’m too old to do the operation and I wouldn't know who to recommend. All I can suggest is that you just keep quiet — you don't speak for four weeks.' I thanked him and left. I said to Richard, 'Well, the show opens in four weeks, so how am I not going to rehearse?' Then I decided to phone dear old Madame Mathy to see if she could suggest anything.

She told me to come up to Sydney straightaway because she had a wonderful throat specialist, Dr Barat, whom she would recommend to anybody. I flew to Sydney and saw Dr Barat that night. He said that he could remove my nodule, but that it was a tricky operation. If the chord was nicked by just the slightest misplacement of the instrument, there would be no voice left. I discussed it with Richard and Mathy and we decided that we would risk it.

The following morning, while I was under local anaesthetic, Dr Barat put an incredibly fine instrument down my throat. Then, very gently, he pulled it out and said, ‘Put out your hand.' I did and he put a little grey ball that looked exactly like a Beluga caviar egg in it. He said (in his wonderful Hungarian accent), 'Now, you do not speak for one week, you just write everything down, you then can whisper very, very softly for one week, the third week you can start speaking but very quietly, and on the fourth week you can start singing and you will be all right for your opening night.' So I nodded. He said, 'Now, I want you to come to me tomorrow morning and I just have a look and see how it is healing.'

The following morning I wrote a note to a taxi driver and went to see Dr Barat again. He looked down my throat and said, 'It is a miracle. If I had not known that you had a nodule yesterday, I wouldn't be able to tell where it was; it has healed very quickly. Now you can start whispering for a few days, then you can start speaking. You can sing in ten days' time.'

I can't tell you what it was like when I opened my mouth to sing for the first time in about three weeks and to hear that I could sing! There were no croaks, no scratchy sounds. The voice was back, thanks to Dr Barat.

Once again, we had a splendid cast for Robert and Elizabeth, and our opening night was something that I don't think I'll ever forget. The outside of the Princess Theatre had been made to look like London's Wimpole Street. All along the walls were wonderful old carriage lamps; the fan lights were lit up beautifully; the inside of the theatre was red-carpeted everywhere; and up the marble staircase were the flowers which would be presented to us on stage at the end of the performance. It was just like a florist's shop or a garden — quite magnificent! And inside the auditorium every seat had a little bottle of 4711 Eau de Cologne, because of the song, 'Pass the Eau de Cologne for God's Sake'. There were also a little bunch of violets for the women and a carnation for the men, for their lapels. The theatre had been gently sprayed with eau de cologne and the whole effect was really quite beautiful! They certainly knew how to do things in those days!

The opening night was a sensation. I don't think they'd seen anything like it in Australia for a long while. Of all those beautiful bouquets up the staircase, twenty-two of them, would you believe, were for me! I had nowhere to put them all at home, so I got in touch with all the hospitals the following morning and some nurses came over to collect about eighteen or nineteen of them.

Frank Thring was playing my father. He's a marvellous character and a great actor. At every performance I used to wear a beautiful ring. It was a black opal, surrounded by diamonds. It sounds flashy, but it wasn't. At one matinee performance, I had just returned from a morning press function, and I didn't wear the black opal but another lovely ring, an amethyst surrounded by pearls and diamonds. So I thought I'd wear that on stage. In our first scene, Thring took one look at my hand and was suddenly reduced to laughter. Offstage I asked, 'What was so funny?'

'It was just suddenly noticing that you didn't have the opal on. It just seemed so strange and I couldn't help laughing.'

I thought, 'Right! Every so often, at a matinee, I'll do something silly with the ring situation and just see what his reaction is.'

The first thing I did was get some of those awful big pearls you buy at Woolies with great big holes that you thread through. I threaded it on string and tied it underneath my finger. When he looked down, he couldn't believe what he saw. After that, at each performance he'd look down to see what I had on my finger. I'd lull him into a sense of false security and then do another. Next I put a Bandaid around my finger and on the top of it, I put a bit of glue and stuck red glitter all over it. Once again he went completely sky-high. I did all sorts of evil things and he got to the stage where, even if I didn't do anything silly, he still had the giggles!

Charlton Heston happened to be visiting Melbourne during our season. Frank had appeared with him in many epics like Ben Hur, so lovely Thring decided he would give a party after the performance for the company to meet Charlton Heston. He was really quite splendid, very handsome and wonderful to meet, and it was a great thrill for all of us. … Eventually I got home at about 6.30 in the morning, had about three or four hours sleep, then had to go in for the matinee! I was still on a high of excitement but I didn't realise it was also the alcohol in me! In my first scene, the dialogue was fine but when it came to singing, my co-ordination of music and words, for the first time in my life, was a little haywire. A large dose of Vitamin B soon put that right, I'm happy to say!

At another matinee, at the beginning of Act II when Elizabeth was back in her room once more on her chaise-longue, with Papa standing over her making her drink a tankard of porter, because he thought it was the best thing for her health, Frank Thring put the tankard into my hand and I was just about to drink this dreadful stuff when a male voice from the front row of the stalls said, 'Oh, he's got her back on the beer again!' in the broadest Australian accent you've ever heard! How we managed to carry on with the show I don't know.

The show was a fantastic success in Melbourne. We played to capacity houses for seven and a half months before moving on to Sydney. Before going to Sydney I took a day off and flew up to find an apartment to live in while we did the show in Sydney. I went to my favourite estate agent in Double Bay and on the way I passed the dear old Tivoli Theatre. There wasn't a sign outside to say that we were opening in a fortnight's time. There wasn't even a poster. I couldn't believe it. When I got to the estate agent, they asked me what I was doing in Sydney.

'Well, I'm opening in a fortnight at the Tivoli Theatre in Robert and Elizabeth.'

'But there's been no publicity. We haven't seen or heard anything. Everybody thinks that the old Tiv's closed because they had a closing-down gala night recently with everybody weeping and wailing because it was the end of the old Tivoli — it was being pulled down. This was about a month or so ago, and everybody thinks that's it.'

'Well, it isn't it. We'll be there in a fortnight.'

I flew back to Melbourne and told everybody, including John Carroll, all of this. John said, 'Oh, it's OK. It'll all be OK,' which of course it wasn't. The people who came to see the show absolutely loved it. This was also just before Christmas, which was not a good time to open a show without a lot of pre-publicity. Consequently we only lasted five weeks in Sydney, which was ridiculous. When the 'last two weeks' notices appeared in the newspapers and on the boards outside the theatre, people just flocked to it! People still hadn't known it was on. How sad that we closed! I'm sure there was an enormous Sydney audience deprived of seeing a great show, Robert and Elizabeth.

… During the Australian run I had word from London to say that negotiations had gone through for us to do Robert and Elizabeth on Broadway. Keith Michell would be doing it with me but John Clements wasn't available and Rupert Davies, of Maigret fame, would be playing Edward Moulton-Barrett. It was all very exciting. Money had been discussed; when we would start rehearsals had been discussed; contracts were ready to be signed; I'd given up my apartments in London and in Melbourne, and I was due to leave in about ten days time. I was going to fly via the South of France and have a holiday there, visit a few friends in London and then go off to America. Then I had a cable to say that the American production had been cancelled because of a dispute over the American rights. The case was eventually thrown out of court, but the show never did get to Broadway.

extracts from The Merry Bronhill (Methuen Haynes, North Ryde, NSW: 1987), pp. 112 - 118

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The Canberra Times (Thursday, 6 April 1967, p.11)

The Canberra Times (Wednesday, 12 July 1967, p.1)

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Recollections by original Australian cast member Andrew Guild

When June arrived in Australia at the old Essendon Airport it was like a royal visit. John Carroll had his 2 Rolls Royce cars parked at the curb-side and a van was on hand to transport Miss Bronhill’s considerable luggage to the Hotel Windsor.

June arrive with an entourage consisting of husband Richard, daughter Biddy, a nanny and a secretary. In 1966 there was little or no airport security so the meeting party, John and Anne Carroll, Charles Hickman the show’s director, Bill Gordon the extraordinary and legendary publicist and advertising manager at the Princess and countless camera wheedling press photographers and film cameramen (yes, all men in those days) were allowed onto the tarmac to meet the TAA T-Jet as it arrived from Sydney. The stairs were driven up to the door of the aircraft and once opened June made her appearance and made an entrance down the stairs. A true star returning to Australia.

I was working FOH in the publicity department at the Princess at the time as well as on standby for the start of rehearsals of R&E in which I had already been cast as Octavius Barrett, the youngest of the Barrett brothers. I was assigned to driving the 2nd of the Carroll’s Rolls. I could hardly see over the steering wheel of the huge 1955 Roller.

It was an exciting arrival and an exciting beginning of the R&E project.

The production was directed by Englishman Charles Hickman who had directed a number of major musicals for the Carroll’s. Charles was a lovely man. On the opening night and after only one or two dress rehearsals – there were no drawn out previews back then – rehearse for 4 weeks, a couple of Dress rehearsals and on you went – Charles brought the entire cast into the stalls for one last notes session and to offer his congratulations to the entire cast. His very last comment was one that has stuck with me for just on 59 years as most beautiful, moving and inspiring. Charles said, “You’ve done the work, the production is marvellous and all you need to do, and do every night, is to sprinkle your magic over the stage at every performance,” and with that he held up his hand and, as if he had a palm full of magic dust, he made a sprinkling motion. It was a magical, memorable moment.

Charles Hickman was a nervous director, on edge, alert, living all the characters as he directed. He never expressed his nerves in temper of frustration, but he took them out on a copious number of white cotton handkerchiefs. After each rehearsal session the cleaners would find pieces of shredded hanky all through the stalls….

Charles once told us a funny story about his small mews house in London. The house was in Belgravia in one of those perfect back streets that tourists love to wander down. The sitting room had a tiny bay window looking out to a cobbled street. Charles and his partner had a small table set in the bay window, which usually had a delicate small vase of flowers set in the middle. On one afternoon Charles came into this room only to find two American tourists sitting at the table… “tea and scones for two please, waiter” said his unannounced guests,

The transformation scene from the interior of the Barrett’s Wimpole Street house to the garden was a complicated set change. No remote computer controlled modules in 1966; no magic pullies of electric motors. Just manpower! Hidden inside the two main set pieces were two burly stage hands. On cue it was their job to unpin the trucks and then shuffle down stage turning the set pieces as they went. This set change was very impressive and often received a round of applause all of its own. However on one Saturday at the Princess disaster struck. It was a hot two show day and some of the stage crew, including a chap who’s one big job in the production was to be inside the set prior to the end of the interval in readiness for the “big scene change“, had partaken of light refreshments between the matinee and evening shows at The Imperial on the corner of Spring and Bourke Streets. One had more "refreshments" than the others.

Just as the big change was about to happen, coughing and spluttering could be heard emanating from inside one of the major aforementioned set pieces. Then spluttering and splashing. Shortly followed by an unpleasant stream of red wine seeping out from under the set and flowing down stage. The blackout couldn’t come fast enough that evening. The offending stage hand was hauled out of the set piece and never seen again!!

The season at the Sydney Tivoli was an huge disappointment lasting just 4 weeks. The most memorable moment of that short season actually happened on the very last performance. At the big finale, the steam train arrived in Italy, Miss Barret alighted with her small King Charles spaniel, met Robert Browning, and dog, Elizabeth and Robert moved down stage in full song towards in anticipation of the final curtain falling. Then, right smack bang centre stage, the King Charles decided to show his contempt for Sydney audiences.. The animal turned upstage, squatted as dogs do and did one almighty, unmissable poo! Curtain on the Australian season of Robert and Elizabeth ….

Cast Members:

Ian Smith who played George Barrett (one of the Barret boys) went on the become mega-famous for his much loved character, Harold Bishop, in Neighbours.

Paul Thompson, another Barrett boy – Septimus, has become a pre-eminent landscape architect and horticulturalist.

Graeme Ewer – Alfred Barrett, joined Opera Australia and was an audience favourite for over 4 decades.

Frank Thring was one of those unforgettable characters. A wonderful colleague, a mentor and a friend. After R&E he continued being Frank Thring, being a friend to all and supporting the people who make Mylanta.

Andrew Guild

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Musical Director Alan Barker remembers Robert and Elizabeth

Archival "live" recording of the original 1966 Melbourne Princess Theatre production of Robert and Elizabeth starring June Bronhill, Denis Quilley and Frank Thring (posted by permission of Kurt Gänzl for Talent Artists.)

Act 1:

Robert and Elizabeth - 1966 Australian Cast - Act 1

Act 2:

Robert and Elizabeth - 1966 Australian Cast - Act 2

Postscript: