George and Pilgrims · Glastonbury · Modelling · Photoshoot · Town Crier

On being a photographic model……

About seven weeks ago, I received a friend request via Facebook. I’m sent quite a few of these as the Town Crier of Glastonbury. I get them from people all over the world. Perhaps they have seen me “Crying” in Glastonbury, or maybe we’ve chatted in the street or in some cases, they simply wish to have some sort of connection with Glastonbury, through me. It’s all rather lovely, really.

This particular friend request was from a young lady called Kelly, who lives in Scotland. She explained in our first exchange, that she was a student photographer, carrying out an extensive photographic project on Glastonbury and Glastonbury folk. Apparently, the project was one of her submissions for her University degree. She asked if she could take a few photos of me in my regalia.

KELLY

This is Kelly with her husband.  As you can see, Kelly also likes dressing up!

I responded positively, naturally. I’m always glad to help people progress in their education. After all, I’ve spent a very successful career doing exactly that! She said that she was planning to fly down from Scotland in mid-March.

During our ongoing exchange of messages, I suggested that she might also like to photograph “Billy The Celt”, the current Bard of Glastonbury, who also has a particularly fetching regalia. She liked the sound of that and after asking round a few friends, I soon had his contact details.

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“Billy The Celt”

Chaired Bard of Glastonbury 2017-2018

Within what seemed like no time at all, Kelly was on a plane heading south to Bristol Airport and on to Glastonbury for her 4th visit to our lovely, magical town.

Once here, Kelly managed to bump into our Chaired Bard; she also managed to grab a few photos of him.  Synchronicity abounds in this town!

Our photoshoot was arranged for a Sunday lunchtime. We were to meet outside the George and Pilgrims Hotel in Glastonbury. The place is full of atmosphere and character, with its stone floors, murals and dark wood.  Being built in the 1400s, it was the perfect backdrop for photos of a traditional Town Crier.

 

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The George and Pilgrims (It’s the building on the left)

I was busy “Crying” in town for a Cancer Research UK Charity Shop Bake Sale the day before. Kelly, who was on her photographic mission there, happened to hear me and came up to introduce herself. We had a brief chat about what she wanted to do the next day.

Her plan of action was to take some photographs of the local Town Crier appearing to “take a break with a little beverage, in a local hostelry” and then a few “in action” outside  on the streets.

On the Sunday, I presented myself in full attire, at the allotted time, outside of the George and Pilgrims Hotel. I decided to bring along my hunting horn, as an extra prop – I do use it for certain types of jobs in Glastonbury  –  I thought it might make an interesting snap or two.

Kelly was running a little late on her busy photographic schedule. She had just been to photograph the Mayor, directly before me. So, there I was, standing in the High Street in the bright, blazing sunshine ..…… patiently waiting. I felt rather conspicuous. I know it’s strange for me to say that. The whole idea of a Town Crier’s outfit IS to be conspicuous and attract the attention of the public! But it felt a little strange since I had no cry written down, since today was going to be all about photography. Understandably, people looked at me quizzically, expecting me to ring my bell aloft at any moment, followed by a bellowed proclamation.

So just for the hell of it, whilst waiting for Kelly, I decided to go into “Statue Mode”. I do this sometimes, for example, when I need to give my voice a rest. It causes no end of amusement to the passing public; I really should put a tray down on the pavement in front of me during the busy tourist season and raise money for charity!

Just at that point, Kelly arrived, rather flushed and slightly breathless, apologising profusely for her lateness. I reassured her that that it was not the slightest problem and that I was just having a little fun being a “Town Crier Statue”!

We adjourned to the bar. Kelly thought that she would get some good indoor shots with “His Lordship” sat in the bay window with the sunlight streaming in through a particularly beautiful stained-glass window. Perfect!

David Greenway Glastonbury Town Crier
David Greenway, Glastonbury Town Crier, reading through his cry

I was treated to a cider and we sat down to discuss her photographic plan of action. It’s not every day I get bought cider by a charming and pretty young lady! A perk of the job, I guess.

David Greenway Glastonbury Town Crier
David Greenway, Glastonbury Town Crier,  in the George and The Pilgrims

In what seemed like no time at all, Kelly was on her feet, busy arranging me and all of  my tools of the trade in total absorption, with a look of utter determination on her face. She was a joy to watch as she crafted every single photograph. Her work caused much amusement to the various assembled drinkers. Several couples, busy tucking into their Sunday lunches, suddenly found the unexpected and quite novel lunchtime  “entertainment” an interesting talking point. Some even “piggybacked” Kelly’s carefully arranged shots by taking photographs of their own over her shoulders, on numerous cameras and mobile phones! I suddenly knew how Marilyn Monroe must have felt!

Town Crier of Glastonbury Scroll
Town Crier of Glastonbury’s  Scroll

 

Town Crier of Glastonbury
David Greenway, Town Crier of Glastonbury on a break in The George and Pilgrims

I was photographed enjoying my cider………reading my scroll, enjoying my cider……… writing on my scroll, enjoying my cider……..looking wistfully into space , enjoying my cider……..smiling, enjoying my cider…….. deep in thought, enjoying my cider – every time, with the label on the glass being carefully concealed. Kelly’s attention to every little detail certainly was impressive!

David Greenway Glastonbury Town Crier
David Greenway, Glastonbury Town Crier, carrying out essential vocal cord lubrication

 

David Greenway Glastonbury Town Crier
David Greenway,  Glastonbury Town Crier…….n.b. “Will Cry for Cider!”

Then, after a quick change of seats, another sequence of photographs, this time with the props, and myself, all being carefully arranged around an EMPTY glass. Are you following the “story” so far?

Town Crier of Glastonbury Bell and Hat
Town Crier of Glastonbury’s  Bell, Tricorn, white gloves…….with sadly, an empty glass!

While we still had the light, we proceeded outside for more pictures of me “doing my thing”. A quick change of lens and some guidance on the best backgrounds for her shots (Town Criers know all about these sorts of things!) and we were shooting again. At the Market Cross – a favourite and symbolic spot for me, there were endless shots of bells held up in the air, horns being blown and a Town Crier with his mouth wide open, catching flies!

Town Crier of Glastonbury at Market Cross
David Greenway, Town Crier of Glastonbury, at The Market Cross

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Giving them a blast!

As you can see from the excellent photographs that illustrate this blog post, Kelly is a photographer of quite exceptional talent and I’m sure her university photographic assignment will pass with flying colours. I know I’m biased but I’d give her a First-class Honours degree based on these pictures alone!

She’s on Facebook: Kelly Muir Photography. Check her out! I can’t recommend her highly enough!

Just then, a couple came by and asked for a photo, which was seamlessly slipped in somewhere during the proceedings. It transpired that it was the gentleman’s birthday, so of course, he simply had to have a special Birthday Cry.  As a town crier, I love these little impromptu moments.

David Greenway Glastonbury Town Crier

He looked quite happy in the photograph, his special day in Glastonbury having been acknowledged, in a very personal way, with a Birthday Cry from The Town Crier.

Finally, just as we were finishing, a charming and immaculately-dressed young lady who was visiting from Hong Kong, requested a photograph.

Glastonbury Town Crier
Town Crier with Gie Gie, from Hong Kong,  visiting  Glastonbury

If I had still been thinking straight after all that posing, I would have given her an Official “Cry of Welcome” since she had flown half-way round the planet to visit our wonderful little town. However, in subsequent digital correspondence with her, it appears that she is planning to return to Glastonbury for one of our colourful festivals later on in the year – so we’re treating her special “Cry” as having a brief postponement.

IMG_2114                        (Photo courtesy of Gie Gie Bowler)

Still …….… she did get to hold my bell!

Glastonbury · Town Crier · Uncategorized

How it all started

 

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Last week I was asked by a couple of people about how I came to be a Town Crier. It’s a question that many visitors ask every year, so here’s the full story about how I ended up “on the streets”, ringing a big bell and shouting my head off at the public.
As a supply teacher, I had been employed to teach science by Glastonbury’s secondary school, for the best part of a year, to cover a staffing gap in 2013.

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 St Dunstan’s  School, Glastonbury

It was on the very last day of the school year that, for me, a very significant event took place. It was the July end-of-term assembly and prize-giving ceremony. It was a blazing-hot day and I was stood at the back of their massive sports hall, along with several dozen other perspiring and totally exhausted teachers, teaching assistants and office staff, watching the proceedings. It’s always a delight on these occasions to applaud all those students who have won awards for their efforts, both in and out of the classroom.
Whilst standing there, I recognised one of my old pupils from when I was teaching at a different school not far away but about 20 years before. He was sat next to the Headteacher. He was dressed in a very smart suit. His father, Graham Coles, Glastonbury’s much-loved Town Crier, had sadly passed away a few months earlier and his son was there at the prize giving to present the “Graham Coles Memorial Cup” for outstanding achievement in sport.

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Graham Coles R.I.P.

I remember Graham with much affection; we were fellow radio amateurs and I also remember him from parents’ evenings as well, when I taught his boys.
Incidentally, by an amazing coincidence, the Town Crier before Graham was also a radio amateur (or radio “ham”)!  His name was Jim Bobbett. (His call sign is G0MSL, Graham’s was G0BKU and mine is M0BJO)

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Jim Bobbett

When I got home, I remember telling my wife, June, about Graham’s sad passing and the events of the last day of term. I ruminated with her on what a “fun” job it would surely be, to be the Town Crier of Glastonbury, being able to dress up and attend all those special events throughout the year. To be honest, I’d always fancied a crack at the job. In teaching, there’s always an element of “acting”, as any teacher will tell you. I would probably have enjoyed local amateur dramatics too, were it not for the fact that I just haven’t got the memory (nor patience!) to learn endless pages of lines. But in a Town Crier role, yes, I would be able to do a little “acting”, but the real bonus is that the “lines” would be written down on a scroll and I could just read them out. Perfect! The more I thought about the whole fandango, the more enthusiastic I became about the prospect of being a Town Crier.

However, I resigned myself to the thought that probably, the Town Council had already hired a replacement for Graham. I had a glance at the Town Council’s  website and sure enough, there was the advert for their Town Crier! However, my heart sank when I read the small print. I had missed the closing date for applications by four days! My dear wife June has always encouraged me; she is a wonderful optimist – she suggested I rattle off an application anyway and see what happens. That is what I did. Without delay, I hurriedly typed out an e-mail to the council, for what it was worth!
Several agonising months went by before I had a surprise communication from the Clerk of Glastonbury Town Council, inviting me to attend for an interview at the Glastonbury Town Hall. In the invitation it was explained that it would be a fairly informal interview but that at some stage during the interview, I would be expected to perform a “cry”.

The day of the interview came and so I made my way to the Town Hall with a little “cry” written out ready, just in case one was not supplied for me. As it happened, it was a pleasant, cosy chat with the Mayor and one other Town Councillor. I thought I fielded most of the questions very well. Then towards the end, they asked me to “do a cry”. Feeling rather smug I said: “Well, I just happen to have one written down here somewhere”, reaching into the inside pocket of my blazer. “I’ll just go to the end of this room”, I explained, as I started to get out of my chair, “I don’t want to deafen you!” Before I took my first step they said: “Oh, no – we want you to do it outside – at the Market Cross perhaps?” As we walked down the stairs to go outside, the caretaker rummaged in his dusty store cupboard and emerged  with a brass bell. He cheerily thrust it into my hand with a good luck wish and a bit of a wink. I was thinking to myself, just what would people make of seeing some guy ringing a bell and shouting at the top of his head, on a sunny late-summer’s evening, in the middle of town? Would I be carried away by the “men in white coats”? Would my friends quietly shake their heads in disbelief, walk on by and choose to avoid me in the future?  I consoled myself with the thought that this IS Glastonbury and compared to the many bizarre spectacles encountered in this eccentric little West Country town, this really would seem comparatively “normal”!
In the end, the interviewing panel opted to place me on the top step, infront of the Town Hall’s left side double doors.

Glastonbury, Town Hall

Glastonbury Town Hall

They scurried across the road and sat in a bus shelter on the other side of the road, outside of Glastonbury’s celebrated Italian restaurant, “GIGI’S”.

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GIGI’S

Steeling myself, I took in a big lung-full of air and belted out the following cry:

Oyez, Oyez, Oyez!
Goode Citizens of Glastonbury.
I am straightly commanded, to let it be known to all persons here gathered, that at the hour of seven of-the-clock this evening, an informal interview was conducted, for the honourable position of Town Crier of this fine town.
Mr David Alan Greenway, Schoolmaster, will be duly scrutinised on his suitability for the post.
Give heed and take note, that the interviewing panel will be: The Mayor of Glastonbury, Councillor Sue Thurgood and Councillor Denise Michell.
We wish them “good luck” in the execution of their municipal deliberations and trust that they will choose with their customary good wisdom.
God Save The Queen!

I heard the story later on, that midway through my “cry”, a party of diners had emerged from the restaurant and enquired as to why I was shouting my head off across the road. “It’s OK……he’s just auditioning for the post of Town Crier”, the panel explained. Apparently, one of the diners retorted, “He’s brilliant; give him the job!”

To use that well-known phrase:   “……..…..and the rest is history!”

Since the previous Town Crier expressed a wish to be buried in his regalia, a new outfit had to be made for me. A gifted local costumier, Cath Jenkins, was appointed to provide the new Town Crier livery. I didn’t know so many bits of me had to be measured to produce a new livery!

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Cath Jenkins, Costumier

We very soon decided on the style of livery for the new Town Crier’s coat.  Here is a photo from the front of the pattern book:

coat pattern

Cath worked tirelessly in her studio, in Glastonbury’s Red Brick Building and I had to attend regularly for fittings and discussions. The green and black doeskin fabrics were ordered, along with about 3 miles of braid and a myriad of buttons of various sizes. Apparently, the ceremonial garments of the Members of the House of Lords are also made from doeskin, so I felt in good company!

buttons

I  particularly like my buttons. They have “E II R” on every single one of them!  An emblematic link with the past, since once upon a time, Town Criers were the sole messengers of the reigning monarch.

Before Cath started cutting into the expensive doeskin, a mock-up was made from scrap fabrics – including an old tablecloth!

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Checking bell-ringing freedom of movement with the tablecloth mock-up!

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Cath making some waistcoat adjustments

The tricorn is quite unusual. It is lined with black chick and cock feathers as opposed to the usual single ostrich feather. Feathers are symbolic, as in the olden days, only a few people (including Town Criers) could read and write with a quill pen.

Eventually all was complete and once kitted out, I presented myself to the Town Council in full regalia, at one of their meetings in the Spring of 2014, where I performed a special cry, announcing that I was ready for Civic Duties.

My dream had finally come true.

 

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