Notes on the early days of Minehead and Exmoor Festival

by founder Tim Reynish

My wife Hilary and I moved to Minehead in 1961 when I took up the post of Director of Music at the then Minehead Grammar School; she taught French at the secondary modern and violin and viola in primary and secondary schools. The Festival began in 1963 as an extension of the Minehead Concert Society and Arts Society, and the orchestra in that first Festival was very much made up of relations and friends, though even then a few of these were to become distinguished. Contrabassoon was David Munrow, leader of the Early Music renaissance, trumpet soloist was the legendary John (Jumbo) Wilbraham, while listed under piano, virginals, continuo, percussion etc. was Hamish Milne, the distinguished pianist and professor at the RAM. I have a programme for a Promenade concert at of Bach’s C Minor Double, Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto, Pulcinella and Peter and the Wolf with the Headmaster as narrator.

Over the coming years, the shape settled down to a first week which would include school concerts, brass bands, Morris dancing, jazz and a revue, with a second week of chamber and orchestral music. The principal conductor in those early days was Robert Stewart, one of the most talented musicians we knew, pianist, organist, bassoonist, composer, repetiteur and a conductor of enormous charisma. Elected organ scholar at Worcester College Oxford, he died far too young, but life was certainly merry. There were many wonderful performances for West Somerset to enjoy under his baton, a large chunk of Bartered Bride at one Summer Serenade, Bach and Handel in Dunster Church (strangely poor acoustic but what an incomparable setting) Strauss Metamorphosen, concertos with soloists such as Campoli, Dennis Matthews, Liza Fuchsova and Yaltah Menuhin. Chamber music highlights included Leon Goossens and the Dartington Quartet giving the world premiere of Elizabeth Lutyen’s Fall of the Leafe.

One feature of the Festival remains clear in my mind which is the annual revue. This started from a heavy financial loss which I suffered due to booking Humphrey Lyttelton and the Tone Valley Stompers for a Jazz Ball. The youth of West Somerset avoided it because jazz was regarded as very old fashioned (hadn’t they all flocked down to the station to watch the Beatles filming “A Hard Days Night”) while the absence of a bar in the School Hall meant that the older generations also boycotted it. I drove to Taunton to pay them in cash the next day, as they sat in dark glasses over their congealing breakfast, and then I had to try to recoup. This we did by putting on a series of revues, “Zajj”, “Tête a Tête at Eight Eight” with a very talented cast of 4^th formers, Peter Ball, Kim Sullivan, Colin Clapinson, David Jackson, described in one newspaper as “a slap-happy team of teenagers, who put on an almost professional serving of fun and nonsense”. I believe that Sally Watts, our one girl, actually went into the acting profession. The result was a series of shows, The late Kim Sullivan, who later became an expert in Chinese and Chinese affairs, became chair of the Festival when in the 6^th Form, and I well remember his quelling the headmaster at the post mortem meeting, when the latter was pointing out that we should perhaps cut the Festival down after a loss-making fortnight.

1966 had a memorable Summer serenade on that fateful day when England beat Germany in the World Cup. Our librarian, Henry Scheuer played second flute, wicket keeper and goalie for the CBSO and despite an incredibly thick accent, was more English than the English and used to swear endlessly about “those bloody foreigners”. On the day of the final, his loyalties were somewhat divided, but he solved the dilemma by bringing down Merrie England by Edward German.

In 1968, we were hit by a cancellation from our conductor, Robert, who had a tour of “Robert and Elizabeth” extended. I rather arrogantly took over most of the conducting, since from the 1^st horn chair it looked a quite easy exercise and only later in life did I realise how hard it is. The programmes included Mozart 39 and 40, Dumbarton Oaks, Haydn Trumpet Concerto, Siegfried Idyll, Les Illuminations, and that experience was enough to start my love affair with conducting.

1969 was the seventh and last Festival in which I was involved, and as usual it clashed with my wedding anniversary. I thought that conducting The Wasps, Dvorak Czech Suite, Prague Symphony and Berlioz Nuits d’Été with the beautiful Annon Lee Silver, followed by dinner á trois in the little Spanish restaurant was the perfect way to spend the evening, and was surprised when my wife saw it in a different light. We played both Serenades by Dvorak, and also gave the first and last performance of Harrison Birdcage’s epochal Traumas, an avant-avant garde piece salvaged from the last of the revues. We ended with a cricket match and Peter and the Wolf, and as usual there was an extension at the pub in Alcombe. In 1970 I handed the baton over to Peter Susskind, and began conducting studies seriously, taking part in the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Seminar, but I I did dash down to conduct a Brahms A Major Serenade in what was a farewell appearance.

Our brochure boasted “West Somerset with its combination of sea, moor, thatched cottages and fine churches provided a festival setting unrivalled in natural beauty.” Far from being hyperbole, the description hardly does justice to the area; it is no surprise that the Festival has lasted for so long. Best of luck for the next 45 years.