FROM A CLUBMAN’S CHAIR

Timaru Herald, Volume CXXXIX, Issue 20097, 2 May 1935, Page 2

FROM A CLUBMAN’S CHAIR

COACHMAN FOR A DAY PROBLEM IN CLUBLAND ' (Specially written for “ The Timaru Herald ” by Charles Martin) LONDON, March 19. Amid all the discussion and planning for the decoration of London during the Jubilee celebrations no one has so far thought of consulting an artist on what is, after all, essentially an artistic question. Artist C. R. W. Nevinson —perhaps a little piqued at this cold-shouldering of his profession —now comes striding into the fray to give his advice. The keynote of his decoration scheme is—carpets! “Why not appeal to the people to hang out their carpets during the Jubilee processions?” asks Mr Nevinson. “It is a picturesque Chinese custom, and looks much better than hackneyed festoons of red, white, and blue.” They Used to Do It Mr Nevinson claims historical as well as artistic justification for his idea. In olden times people used to hang carpets from their windows and balconies on days of public rejoicing But I fear that on this question Mr Nevinson is more an artist than a realist. Carpets are very beautiful in China, and they may have been gay enough in Mediaeval England. But you have only to watch a charwoman beating a twentieth century carpet in a London backyard to realise thai a Jubilee display of floor-coverings would be rather deplorable. Defeated by Dirt Our London dust and smuts would be too much for Mr Nevinson. But even if the city were as spotless as a village. I doubt whether our dark blue and brown carpets would look particularly effective hangihg out of our windows. Artists’ studios, of course, are brighter places than middle-class fiats. Perhaps Mr Nevinson will mobilise some of his fellow-artists to loan out their gay rugs to the rest of us.

Idea from South Africa The window-box idea, by the way. seems to be catching on everywhere. The scarlet geranium is London’s own particular window-box flower. bur some people are bidding for originality.

A South African I know in London is recommending two flowers from his native country which flourish quite easily in English gardens, but are never seen in window-boxes. They are the mesembryanthemum and the gazaina, which have the merit of needing scarcely any watering. But does the average London window-sill get enough sun?

Fairy Lamps But to return to Mr Nevinson—his best Jubilee idea is that the trees along the Embankment and in various squares should be decked out vsith fairy lamps at night. That would give a Continental gaiety that London has never been able to achieve, even in its most frivolous moments of publick rejoicing. Another idea of Mr Nevinson’s is that the various streets should be decorated to symbolise the professions and trades carried on there. Bib; most London streets are so mixed that I can imagine fierce quarrels as to which trade i tally was typical of a particular thoroughfare.

Festoons of ticker-tape in Throgmorton Street, cabbages in Covent Garden, newsprint in Fleet Street ami Blue Books and White Papers in Whitehall are the only schemes I can think of which might pass undisputed.

Worry in Clubland But decorations are not the only things to be thought out and planned in connection with the Jubilee. Much more practical matters are giving headaches to many club secretaries in t*he West End just now. Every club balcony in Pall Mall. Piccadilly and St. James’s Street will be crowded to capacity with privileged spectators when the Royal prbcess'on goes by. London balconies are apt to be more ornamental than sturdy, arid the London County Council has decreed that every balcony used as a spectators’ stand must be specially reinforced and propped up. It seems a lot of trouble and expense for, perhaps, five minutes’ use: but worth while when you consider that as much as £SO a seat is being charged for some vantage-points along the route of the procession.

Early Ladies Another problem which is worrying club secretaries is what to do with the ladies. Most of the clubs which still stand firm as masculine strongholds have decided to open their doors to women guests for the occasion. The last time they did so was for the Royal wedding; and although there was nothing to be seen until 11 o’clock the fiancees and wives began to arrive immediately after breakfast. Suspecting that they may be just as early for the Jubilee procession, club committees are gallantly trying to think out ways of entertaining the ladies during the long hours of waiting. Drayman in State More entertaining facts are coming out about the gilded coach of the Speaker of the House of Commons, which seems likely to be the most interesting feature of the Royal retinue no Jubilee Day. I described the other week how Mr Speaker’s coach, after lying unused since the Coronation twenty-five years ago, was being furbished up for the Jubilee. The coach, you will remember, is so heavy that only powerful brewery horses can pull it. Now it transpires that only brewers’ men know how to manage brewers’ horses; so a drayman who regularly delivers barrels of beer to London “pubs” will take a da<y off to drive his pair in front of Mr Speaker’s gorgeous coach. The drayman will wear livery and a full-bot-tomed wig for the occasion.

Only On The Level Another thing that has come to light in the course of polishing up the Parliamentary coach is that it possesses no brakes. A vehicle weighing in itself nearly three tons —to say nothing of Mr Speaker, -three Parliamentary officials and the burly drayman on the box —would make a nasty runaway.

So’the Speaker’s coach is having to take a special route with a view to avoiding hills. Ludgate Hill is the danger-spot. The brewery steeds can be relied upon to pull the vehicle up to St. Paul’s, but the driver will not risk a violent descent when the procession returns. Mr Speaker will have to take a roundabout and more level route back to the Houses of Parliament. St. James’s clubmen and their lady friends will miss the picturesque spectacle too. There is another hill there down which the brakeless coach will not veptVLP:,