Jackanory, Jackanory...

Now that the days are drawing in and the leaves are falling, my thoughts turn to that return-to-school period of yore, when I remember rushing home from said establishment in the fond hope of catching Jackanory, on the box. Those of you of a certain age will remember it, a story-telling slot that ran for ten minutes from quarter-to-five-ish on BBC1, of a weekday evening. The formula was deceptively simple; a reader would relate a tale pulled from the trove of popular children’s writers (RL Stevenson, Roald Dahl, Anna Sewell, et al), the episodes from each tale divided up over the five evenings. Sometimes, the telling was interspersed with original illustrations from the books. But the big draw-in was the actual reading, the readers drawn from the galaxy of British stage and TV stars. Oh, the pacing of the text, the punctuation and intonation, the voice characterization and dramatization. Ten magical minutes saw countless children transfixed and transformed into knights in castles with kings and princes, and youths sailing the high seas with patch-eyed buccaneers and talking parrots. It was the best tuition in reading aloud ever and more than that, Jackanory served as a release, a wonderful escape from the pressures of the day, poised as it was in the dream-time between day and evening. As in all the best fairy tales, we returned to normality when the narrator finished. Normal but much stronger. Somehow, vicariously slaying dragons and sailing the high seas proved refreshing, rejuvenating and recharging, giving the fortitude to face more pragmatic matters. And it was all too short-lived. Sadly, the dawn of adulthood shattered the time-frame that allowed for Jackanory. No more seaside adventures and treasure-hunting of an afternoon any more, just news reports and adult soap operas. The loss of Jackanory is what has turned the grown-up me into a pitiable, permanently-exhausted wreck. No doubt Jackanory still lives on in some rarefied, online enclave or podcast. But I prefer to remember it as the collective experience that it was, enthralling countless children and breeding the next generation of storytellers, artists and simply, persons who know that life is much better for story-telling.

Seeing the Light: Classical Perfection in Suburbia

The first thing that strikes the eye about Sandycoombe Lodge (40 Sandycoombe Road, Twickenham) is its modernity, the curve-edged bulwarks or wings that anchor the taller, central section of the villa to the landscape. It could, in fact, have emerged from the art deco age. It is the classical symmetry of the villa that nudges the visitor into remembering that it is c. 200 years old: no crumbling concrete here. The classicism is evident in the hall way and the stunning, sky-lighted staircase. Designed by JMW Turner himself, it is as if the late, great artist has created his own architectural tribute to himself. Indoors, nods to modernity and technology include the installation of electricity and a functioning bathroom. Otherwise, the lodge has been restored to an early nineteenth-century aesthetic. But twee it is not and the lodge is gloriously free of heritage tat. The dining room is a paean to classical simplicity: I can imagine sitting down and eating here. One item of modernity is a semi-hidden key that activates a sound-track of an historical gathering. A similar device in the basement kitchen activates the “ghost” of John Turner, father of the late artist. The narrow staircase to the basement and upper rooms render it a little precarious to those with disabilities. But if you can, do. Upstairs, one bedroom has been restored to former, simple glory while the other room is outfitted for exhibitions. On at present is Seeing the Light, a display of watercolours of European attractions, made by the artist following the end of the Napoleonic wars when the Continent was finally opened up to travellers. All rooms field stunning views of the district, and visitors may also sit in the garden. No eating/drinking facilities here but the guide kindly directed us to the grounds of Marble Hill House, just a walk away. At present, Turner’s house is open Wednesday to Sunday, 12 noon to 4 pm until October 29. Visit turnershouse.org/whats-on/ for news of exhibitions, talk and workshops. Guided tours available, bookable in advance.