Slide
Exeunt

Lola Russell, 28 June 1922–21 August 1924

Ageing & Changing Dynamics

IMG 5350Today marks the end of an era, where we farewell Aunty Lola, the last surviving member of our parents’ generation. Lola, like all the elders of our family was a strong, bright and unique individual, whose spirit and energy lives on in the current generations.

Lola was an aunty I came to appreciate with age. As kids, we perceived her to inhabit a city-based, adult world. She swept into our lives intermittently, and we were both awestruck and terrified by her. Her spiritual homes were 330 King Street and the theatre. Our urchin-ish, horsey, hills lifestyle was way outside her comfort zone!

It wasn’t until I moved closer to Melbourne to study at Melbourne Uni, that I came to fully appreciate George and Lola’s world. In many ways, the fact that George and Lola never had kids, kept them young and enabled them to pursue their passions without compromise. I have fond memories of coming to see plays and going to late night parties at their house in my early 20s, where the guests of all ages, were universally young in spirit. I recall one party, where at about 11pm there was a knock on the side door on LaTrobe Street, and when George opened it, one of their friends—an 80+ year old male ballet dancer—leapt through the door, did a pirouette and announced, “I’m heeeere!”. At another party, their dear friend Alan Nott, former organist here at St James Old Cathedral, gave a stirring musical performance on a piece of rubber garden hose … they were always way more fun than many of my 20 year old contemporaries!

After George died and Lola became increasingly frail, it was a strange dynamic to witness my formerly formidable ‘never off stage’ Aunt reveal a softer, more vulnerable side. Eventually we found our new equilibrium and I enjoyed our times together. Even after dementia set in, Lola’s long term memory remained strong, and during our catch ups I loved hearing her rich recollections of her and George’s life and travel adventures, and learning more about the ‘Dixon’ side of our family, especially my grandmother, George’s mum, who had died before I was born and Lola referred to affectionately as “Moon”. I’m wearing Moon’s necklace today, which mum gave me for my 21st Birthday.

Determined Trailblazer

Lola was a trailblazer, a unique blend of conservative and radical, pearls and feather boas—the Queen of King Street. She was a working class girl from West Melbourne, who determinedly went on to be the first in her family to go to University. She could jump from swearing like a trooper to BBC elocution teacher in the blink of an eye!

Lola may not have realised it, but what with having an education and a career in an era when many women did not, living de facto with George in the 1950s, keeping her maiden name for life, and being puzzled at why any woman would want to call themselves an ‘actor’ rather than an ‘actress’, she was her own version of a radical feminist! Since Lola’s death, we’ve received lots of touching messages from her former students – all of them women—who decades later express gratitude for Lola nurturing in them a love of drama, history or literature.

Lola and George always encouraged our family’s artistic endeavours— attending our exhibition openings, enlisting me to design posters for their plays etc. I recall one of sister Kate’s Birthday parties where George did a totally mesmerising Marcel Marceau mime act. We still have an annual intergenerational family talent show, which has a perpetual trophy initiated by George and Lola.

Shabby Chic

Lola and George were the pioneers of shabby chic, effortlessly blending vintage and cottage elements to create an elegant, yet warm and welcoming ambience in their historic home and on their persons. Lola always dressed flamboyantly—as kids, we’d often speculate with excited anticipation, “I wonder what Lola will be wearing?” … and she’d never disappoint, sweeping in dramatically late to whatever the gathering was, replete with jewels, plumed hat, or some preposterously fluffy coat.

One of my favourite, quintessential Lola memories, is of a late night supper at their house after one of their plays (a contemporary Russian play that George had translated into English), where Lola’s shabby chic outfit of the evening had shed green sequins into the salad, which shimmered under the soft chandelier in their bustling dining room—fashion, hospitality, theatre and personality at their finest!

In the last week of George’s life, when taking Lola to visit him in hospital, a Doctor stopped and reprimanded me in the carpark for letting Lola wear such trippy, high heeled shoes given her great age. Far be it for me to have dared to have got between Lola and a pair of magenta, suede pumps—even if they represented an extreme OHS risk for a lady in her late 90s! Even at her 102nd Birthday Party, Lola wore a jazzy, furry jacket that Janette gave her, plus a sparkling, “Birthday Girl” tiara!

Gloriously Impractical ~ arts before all else

To dedicate your life to the performing arts, something must give, and in George and Lola’s case, this was paying attention to practicalities. This could be exasperating at times: for health inspectors visiting their shop only to find a cat snoozing on the counter, for my dad being called on to help them out with a power bill when they insisted on buying their groceries at Georges, or the fact they were so immersed in their present, that it never occurred to them to make plans for retirement. Thankfully, they managed to surround themselves with practical people who propped them up when drab realities jolted them down to earth, and in return they shared with us their magical, free-spirited eccentricity. Many of you who helped them ‘pick up the pieces’ of their lives at various points are here today, and I sincerely thank you for all you did.

Furry friends

Despite being a ‘City Kid’, Lola loved animals. She and George always had dogs and took them with them wherever they went—even across the Nullarbor Plain in their Rover, to get to an interstate film festival! Right until the end of her life, Lola loved dogs—she was very pleased to have nephew Chris’s beloved dog Theo as a guest at her 102nd Birthday Party. In the last few months of Lola’s life, when her memory increasingly failed her, sometimes she wouldn’t recognise me when I arrived to visit her. But as soon as I said, “You know me, I’m your niece Helen, the one with the fluffy white dog, Yuki”, her face would light up with recognition and joy, and she’d say, “Ah yes, Yuki.”

A love of people and ideas

Juxtaposed with their ‘olde worldishness’ George and Lola always retained an open mind to new ideas, particularly in relation to film and theatre. Each year, they bought season tickets to Melbourne International Film Festival, and would relish the experience. My cousin Ross and his partner Nicola, recall a recent film festival where they had just watched an incredibly Avant Garde, Japanese, sci-fi film. When the lights in the cinema came on at the end of the film, who should they see sitting in the front row but George & Lola! 

George and Lola always surrounded themselves with interesting people of all ages and walks of life, especially those who shared their passion for performing arts. Their little café and their theatrical endeavours brought people together and allowed others to step away from the hustle bustle of modern life into the other worldly, historical haven of 330 King Street. In the years since Lola came into our family’s care, I feel very privileged to have got to know so many of George and Lola’s loyal, intelligent, interesting and creative friends. I hope we can continue that connection as part of the ongoing George & Lola legacy.

Conclusion

Lola, it is comfort that the angels have finally carried you home to be with your soulmate George. You had a long, well-lived life and now your time to rest has come. We will never forget you and George, and we will always love you for who you were. We are privileged to have had such interesting, creative and vibrant elders in our family. You and George have left a legacy that we can carry in our hearts and minds into the next generation. You are both irreplaceable and unforgettable, and the world is better and more colourful for having had you on its stage.