Derby Day Dozen.
Posted: June 6, 2014 Filed under: Class, Out Of Town, Sartorial, Sport | Tags: Charlie Squires, Derby Day, Epsom Derby, Epsom Downs, Francis Frith, Generous, Lester Piggott, Nijinsky Comments Off on Derby Day Dozen.Member’s enclosure, Derby Day, Epsom. © David Secombe 1991.
Interview with Alfred Hitchcock, New York Times, 19 March 1939*:
Apparently no Hitchcock interview is ever complete without Mr. Hitchcock’s latest idea for a picture he would like to make – some time. Today he has in mind a picture built around the English Derby – Derby Day. “Can there be anything more exciting or dramatic than a million people all gathered together in one afternoon – all sorts of people, from top to bottom – just to witness the running of a race? I always liken it to the Judgment Day. Well, I should like to sift, say, a dozen characters from that crowd and, within the limits of an hour and a half on that fatal afternoon, tell their stories, climaxed by the finish of the race.” It sounds like a great idea – maybe too great, because, unfortunately, Mr. Hitchcock never seems to get around to doing those pictures he dreams about.
Runners on their way to the starting gate, Epsom Derby, 1991. © David Secombe 1991.
DS: Tomorrow sees the running of The Derby at Epsom, the original Derby anything, founded in 1780, and still the richest horse race in Britain. Once run mid-week, since 1995 it has been a Saturday fixture, the rescheduling an indication of its decline as an event. No-one seems entirely sure why it has lost its popularity. Hitchcock’s comment reflects the notion of the Derby current in the Victorian and Edwardian eras: London on the Downs, the city decamping en masse for a day at the races. This was the Derby Day of Dickens, William Frith, or the doomed suffragette Emily Davison. As a schoolboy in Epsom during the 1970s, I recall the frightening volume of humanity that appeared on the first Wednesday in June … but that excitement and sense of occasion has simply withered. These images are of Derby Day in 1991, taken whilst working alongside Eddie Mirzoeff’s documentary team (see below) and show only the elaborately hatted zone of the grandstand. The modern version of Frith’s Victorian painting is a glorious documentary by Charlie Squires of the 1970 Derby: I have hunted YouTube to locate this but to no avail. I would dearly love to see that film again: instead, here is footage of the 1970 race, won in legendary fashion by Lester Piggott on Nijinsky:
The 1991 Derby was won by ‘Generous’, ridden by Alan Munro. From Elizabeth R, prod. E, Mirzoeff, BBC, 1992 – video no. 3 in sequence:
* Thanks to The Hitchcock Zone.
Before the Blue Wall. Photo: Homer Sykes, text: Henry Newbolt (1862-1938) (2/4)
Posted: July 11, 2012 Filed under: Sport | Tags: Henry Newbolt, Lea Valley, Olympic Park, Play Up and Play the Game 2 CommentsHackney Marsh sports field. © Homer Sykes 2006.
Vitai Lampada
(“They Pass On The Torch of Life”: 1892)
There’s a breathless hush in the Close to-night
Ten to make and the match to win
A bumping pitch and a blinding light,
An hour to play and the last man in.
And it’s not for the sake of a ribboned coat,
Or the selfish hope of a season’s fame,
But his Captain’s hand on his shoulder smote
‘Play up! play up! and play the game!’
The sand of the desert is sodden red,
Red with the wreck of a square that broke;
The Gatling’s jammed and the Colonel dead,
And the regiment blind with dust and smoke.
The river of death has brimmed his banks,
And England’s far, and Honour a name,
But the voice of a schoolboy rallies the ranks:
‘Play up! play up! and play the game!’
This is the word that year by year,
While in her place the School is set,
Every one of her sons must hear,
And none that hears it dare forget.
This they all with a joyful mind
Bear through life like a torch in flame,
And falling fling to the host behind
‘Play up! play up! and play the game!’
David Secombe:
Henry Newbolt was a popular poet of the late Victorian and Edwardian era, and this once popular poem, with its image of sacrificial glory transferring seamlessly from the cloisters of Clifton College to the Sudan desert, was much reviled after the first World War. In his later years, Newbolt himself became embarrassed by it, but there is no question that in his prime he was the figurehead of nationalistic poetry in England. Its inclusion here was suggested by a poet friend, and she might have invoked it as a bilious response to the current move to incorporate ‘poetry installations’ into the Olympic theme park. Or maybe she was just in an elegiac mood.
Boxers of Bethnal Green. Photos: Alex Hocking, poem: Naomi Woddis. (5/5)
Posted: February 10, 2012 Filed under: London Places, London Types, Sport | Tags: London boxing, Naomi Woddis, Rumble in the Jungle, York Hall Comments Off on Boxers of Bethnal Green. Photos: Alex Hocking, poem: Naomi Woddis. (5/5)York Hall, Bethnal Green. © Alex Hocking 2011.
This Victory Means Something by Naomi Woddis:
Sometimes Jasmin stays up late
while all her school friends
are safely tucked up in dream beds
she watches the boxing with her dad
Scarlett says any woman
who loves the fight, has a man
in her family with gloves
her father, five uncles.
Fi’s boxed in the RAF.
She remembers the special time
by his side, witness to swinging
punches on TV, the Rumble in the Jungle.
All three learned early that this
victory means something.
The neat rules of a fight, what it is
to be invited, the chance of a win.
© Naomi Woddis.