'Driberg also admitted to Christopher Hitchens in the Colony that he loved going into special committees in the House of Commons with semen still sticky at the corners of his mouth'
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| The late Sebastian Horsley at the door of his local |
To order a copy of The Colony Room Club 1948-2008, visit Sophie Parkin's dedicated site, here
In 1948, Muriel Belcher founded the The Colony - the Soho private drinking den that became infamous for stellar misbehaviour over 60 years. In 2012, one of its patrons, Sophie Parkin, releases The Colony Room Club 1948-2008: A History of Bohemian Soho, which charts the secret life of a refuge that drew some of the most celebrated minds, talents and livers of the second half of the 20th Century (and Kate Moss) and tells a great many tales of unreported high jinks and debauchery. Parkin interviewed upwards of 50 surviving former Colony habitués for the book and has dug up a trove of fab photos.
Madame Arcati enjoyed a bout of intercourse with Sophie - those of a tender sensibility may want to pass on this interview...
SP: ‘Plenty of both I‘m glad to say,’ as Muriel said to Dan Farson when asking her
about her sexual proclivities. Paul Johnson was a great interview as was the
fruity and funny Sir Peregrine Worsthorne. Anne Valery (think Tenko) , Irma
Kurtz - wonderful about John Hurt and
Francis Bacon ('Last night I was stuck between a Ham and a Bacon') - and the definition of
a bohemian bar. And once I reminded mother [Molly Parkin], a few indiscretions popped up
around Tony Shaffer (playwright), Cedric Price (architect), Ernő Goldfinger and Robert Brownjohn, the designer of the first James Bond credits; oh, and John Bryce the
producer of The Avengers in his Aqua car. All very 1960s.
Shove in the
whipping guardsman story concerning Victor Spinetti and the Colony couple from
Hampstead and it's almost a Joan Littlewood production. Fings Ain't Wot They Used T'be – you’re telling me!
Q: ‘The Colony was a club for lushes and is
best off gone. Incidence of liver cirrhosis will decline’. Discuss.
SP: Have you
been to other clubs? Some of the ‘new wave' of fashionable clubs are so
depressing and unfriendly you drink to forget you are there. They never
organise beanos like the 'Come in Chapeau Party' 1968 to raise money for a
disabled children’s Christmas party for kiddies with MS. Victor Lowndes kindly
supplied the waitresses - Bunny Girls, Annie Ross and George 'wigglebum’ Melly
provided the entertainment, poor kids!
One day Jeffrey Bernard organised a trip
to Ascot for the horse fanciers and got an open top double decker to stop
outside whereby members got on through the first floor window. Bernard took all
the bets and when the races ended mysteriously disappeared.
The club wasn't just a
place for lushes, it was for outsiders whether from the upper classes or the
lower, Burroughs/Bacon/Freud or Sir Frederick Ashton, Trevor Howard, LS Lowry,
Sir Robert Helpmann and Lady Rose McLaren. It was for the blossoming of great
conversation whether with Keith Waterhouse; or Johnny Speight with Kate Moss as
a bar maid or Daniel Craig with Joe Strummer on guitar and Todd Matshikiza on
piano and Lisa Stansfield on vocals.
Everyone played there on Sunday nights
from The Hours, The Magic Numbers, Badly Drawn Boy to Alabama 3 and The View.
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| Ian Broad on Hampstead Heath |
Q: Who’s the cunt who decided that the Club
should be no more. I mean, if I Google ‘The Colony’ there is a website claiming
the Colony still exists. Please explain.
SP: I don’t know why someone hasn’t taken that
down. I don’t know who built it but Michael Wojas, who paid for it, has been dead
for 2 years.
Perhaps it was the landlord Mr Ibrahim after Ian Board tried to
strangle him; perhaps it was Michael who wanted the legend to die with him. The Colony however is less a place
more a state of mind and when I open the Deal Arts Club from the huge funds of
my book The Colony Room Club 1948-2008 it will transfer there. It will have to
be a membership club - ordinary people on a day trip to the seaside might be
offended by the full use of our language and the freedom of our thoughts.
Now, if we assume most members of the
Colony were/are drunken reprobates with casually vacant genitalia, who will threaten to sue you? There's a pretty tale or two to tell.
Foreign Correspondent Dick West swears it
didn’t happen to him but that an Australian reporter went up to interview Tom
Driberg MP. The Colony he thought would be a Gentlemen’s Club. He was greeted
at the door by Muriel and asked to be directed to Mr Driberg, ‘He’s the one in
the corner with his hand round that sailor's cock.’ Driberg liked a man in uniform.
But
he also liked a working class man - Geoffrey Wheatcroft apologised to
Driberg at the Colony for putting a picture of Driberg, Lord Boothby and
the Kray twins in a compromising photo in a book by his publishers. Driberg
said mournfully, ‘It’s just it’ll stop me getting into clubs’. Not the Colony.
As Muriel drily noted: ‘He never worried about it when Ronnie’s cock was in his
mouth.’
Driberg also admitted to Christopher Hitchens in the Colony that he
loved going into special committees in the House of Commons with semen still
sticky at the corners of his mouth.
It wasn't only homosexual activity, however. Christine Keeler and Stephen Ward were often at the bar (is it true Lloyd Webber
is making a musical of it all?). Paul Johnson said she was very dreary, though Ward used to like to have dog collars and leads on girls he took to pubs
and he didn’t drink more than an orange juice. A decade later, Peter Langan - the famous Brasserie owner - could often be found of an afternoon delighting middle-aged ladies by crawling around the banquette and putting his head up their skirts
and (as George Melly put it) 'yodelling in the canyon.'
But why did Peter choose to
wear those white linen suits? The follow-through stains showed up something
awful.
Q: You
were a member of the Colony. Were your genitalia casually vacant? Don’t you say
to your wonderful mother Moll: ‘How could you have exposed me to such a place,
with all those ghastly drunks slavering over each other!’
SP: It was a wonderful place; you must be a tiny bit jealous? I am eternally
grateful to both my Ma and Pa for taking me in there and I was proud to be a
member but it was odd seeing people like Jude Law or Stella McCartney in there at
the end.
As to my vacant or otherwise purse I shall quote Irma Kurtz, agony
aunt of Cosmopolitan -“The Colony wasn’t a pick-up joint. If you fell in love
or lust, that was nice, but it was beside the point. Bohemian behaviour
meant that you didn’t share the same restrictions and morality. Now everybody
sleeps with anybody from Hendon to Highbury. Sleeping with someone because you
want to doesn’t mean anything now.” Quite.
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| The Colony enjoys free promo |
Q: What
were Muriel’s teeth like? Was she lesbotic? I think you say somewhere she was
only a bit lesbotic. Ian Board was definitely lesbotic – didn’t he throw
Francis Bacon out once and said he was a useless painter or something?
SP: Never. Everybody was frightened of Francis; he had such a huge
presence, and a charisma bigger than Nelson’s Column.
Muriel was known as a Portuguese Jewish
lesbian from Birmingham whose parents owned the Alexandra Theatre – all total
bollocks. Along with the fact that The Colony was named after her Jamaican
girlfriend Carmel. Carmel, aka the Fox, wasn’t about when Mu first took over the
club; it had been a club for old colonials. Paul Johnson was taken there first
in 1947, pre it being Muriel’s, with Jimmy and Teddy Goldsmith - and they were on
the lookout for Benzedrine – it was all the rage then. She definitely had a
soft spot for pretty boys and good-looking women. Ian liked leather-clad men
who would beat him.
Do you want a picture of him as a male model on Hampstead Heath? [Yes please, see above - MA]
Q: Is it true Will Self was a habitué? I
believe he was particularly kind to persons behind the bar. Yet he now claims
the Colony was a hideous place – didn’t he satirise it in Liver? I can’t recall
the title but there was a liver in it.
SP: I
don’t know if that is satire. I know all the Private Eye lot like Peter Cook
went in the Colony and he opened up The Establishment where Lenny Bruce
performed in London - and Terry Southern.
I thought satire was meant to be funny?
Anyway, Self was (so he tells me) in love with the barman Ben
Tranin, but that’s his
story to satirise or otherwise. It's strange how people's drug of choice separates
them. I personally can’t stand popping pills or puffing weed or shooting up,
which tends to kill many more people who do it than the percentage of people
who drink and die of liver disease. He insists everyone died of cirrhosis of the liver, but Wojas was a druggy more than a drinker, and Ian’s liver was
fine. Unfortunately cancer of the lungs killed him. He liked a fag.
Q: I
see your book is published by you. Don’t tell me the cunts who run publishing
didn’t sense a bestseller in their midst. What’s wrong with these hairy-eared
swine? What were you supposed to do – re-title it ‘Harry Potter Goes Tits Up At
The Colony’?
SP: Or arse up and heads down - I‘d like to have seen the book jacket in
WH Smith. Actually we are publishing it ourselves because it’s the only way to
make any money from publishing. Authors advances have shrunk to the size of a
cock in the North Pole. And having spent 2 years of my valuable life on this
precious tome I didn’t want to be paid peanuts and then see it sink from
lack of proper marketing. It’s a great and glorious book not just about sex - there’s some culture in there too. As Muriel said about Peter O’Toole, if he’d
been any prettier they’d have had to call it Florence of Arabia.
Q: Do you consume muesli before you write? Do
you wear shades as you ply the keyboard? There are many aspiring writers out
there hanging onto these bio details.
SP: I like a nice piece of sourdough smeared
with apricot jam before I set to. Would I encourage anyone else to spend 2 years
on a history of the Colony? No, don’t bother - I’ve already done it, there’s
nothing left to tell….
Q: Sophie, darling. You're a joy and a credit to all loose-livers, so to speak. Good luck with your glorious book.
To order a copy or two of The Colony Room Club 1948-2008: A History of Bohemian Soho by Sophie Parkin, visit her dedicated site. Click here.
In a separate post, I report on the Arts Club - boasting a membership engrossed in London arts culture - snootily declining Sophie's offer to talk about the Colony and her book - it's 'not suitable'. Click here.
To buy a copy of An Unquiet Spirit:
