World Of Wax

 

More from the 'World Of Wax'. This figure of Queen Elizabeth I is so realistic it even mirrors her habit of only having a good wash every few months.

The Commonwealth Institute

Ah, The Commonwealth Institute in Kensington, the trendy, liberal cousin of the British Museum that eventually came a cropper. Whereas the British Museum is full of artefacts stolen from the natives, The Institute showcased items donated by our extended international family, not least the 25 tonnes of South African copper that comprise the distinctive ‘hyperbolic parabaloid’ roof.

Built as a showcase for trade between Commonwealth partners, it was designed by Sir Robert Matthew, who had worked as a London City Council architect from 1946 to 1953 and played a massive part in the Festival of Britain, as well as co-designing the Royal Festival Hall. Started in 1960, it was opened by The Queen in November, 1962. It comprised an administrative wing (it was a real Institute, not just a pretend one), and a large diamond shaped exhibition space with an art gallery and cinema attached, all set in ornamental gardens with walkways and waterways. It’s a lovely building, very 1962.

The exhibition itself was designed by James Gardner, who had created the exhibition inside The Dome of Discovery at the Festival of Britain, which looked at life on our small planet, and the proportionally enormous part Britain had played to date (sections included The Earth, Outer Space, Sky, Polar, Sea and The Land). The Commonwealth Institute’s exhibition was similarly comprehensive, with stuff from all the formerly pink bits on the map, all willingly given in the spirit of the new age of equality of peoples and a spirit of co-operation.

In 2000, the ownership of The Institute shifted from the Foreign Office to a Trust, the architectural equivalent of a football manager receiving a vote of confidence from the Chairman. It closed two years later and has remained closed ever since. Here it is in its rather sad, vacated state.

In 1969, the ITV kids show ‘The Tyrant King’ (which was basically a tourists guide to London and the suburbs), filmed several key scenes at The Institute, and the following screenshots give a flavour as to what it looked like with stuff in it. I love the central hub, although it is very frustrating that everyone in the programme who passes the centre looks down, and I have no idea what they are looking at.

The Hub

Not part of the permanent exhibition

The late Phillip Madoc checks out some ethnic art 

Some sort of African exhibit

Another sort of African exhibit

How much did Modernists love stair cases?

The building is due to reopen in 2014 as the new home of the Design Museum, although the interior has, apparently, been significantly remodelled. I wonder if there will be a place for a model of a Hong Kong junk, or a set of African drums? I hope so, but I very much doubt it (the majority of the exhibits were returned to their places of origin).

Speaking of Design, here’s the flag of the Commonwealth, a classic of simplicity and good taste, although I'm not sure it’s a coincidence that the beneficent golden glow encircling the earth has a gap where Russia and China are.    

W Is For Wyngarde

Peter Wyngarde runs the gamut from light-hearted cynicism to utter revulsion as German newspaper editor Werner Loder in the 1962 Armchair Theatre production 'Night Conspirators'. He gives an powerful, serious performance, as might befit a drama about the unexpected and, in Werner Loder's case, desperately unwanted, return of an aged Adolf Hitler to Germany.   

It bears repeating: Peter Wyngarde was a very fine actor, and he should be as well known for that as his moustache, cuban heels, perm and private life. The Island would be a much duller place without him.  

World Of Wax

More from the wacky 'World Of Wax'. Here, a redundant model is melted down. There's something unspeakably awful about its slow dissolution, especially as it is so realistic. I don't know who the model is, but I would guess at him being the leader of a fifties Communist country,  perhaps one who ended up being deposed and murdered, maybe beheaded and melted down. It would be chilling, if it obviously wasn't at such a high temperature, and the heads impassive expression throughout adds an extra layer of horror.    

World of Wax

Another expedition to the World of Wax, this time stopping to squint at the Literary Giants section. They're all British, of course. If you can't write in English, mate, we can't read it. I'm joking, these are pretty big names, regardless of nationality.

Bill Shakespeare wasn't around to sit for the modellers, so this figure is based on Maurice Gibb.

H.G Wells did have slightly protuberant eyes, but they weren't dead and psychotic like these. Or made of glass, of course, perhaps that's it.

Charles Dickens. If this had been the real Dickens, that blank paper would have been a book by now.  

J.M Barrie has the harrassed look of a man on trial. He also looks like a turn of the century poisoner, which doesn't help. Great Ormond Street are grateful to him, though, and so should we be.

Finally, George Bernard Shaw. Shaw died in 1950 at the age of 94 from injuries received after falling off a ladder.

If there are any hair colour bullies reading this, please note that four out of five of our greatest writers were ginger, so pack it in.

World of Wax

In 1962, the wonderful Harold Baim made a short film called 'World of Wax'. The film mainly focuses on Madam Tussauds, with particular reference to a new addition, a wax model of Stirling Moss.

Don Thompson*; Stirling; Kenneth More.

Regular readers will know I have a bit of a thing for waxworks. In particular, I have a bit of a thing for old waxworks and, specifically, past models. It absolutely fascinates me to know who was once famous enough to have an effigy made of them; I find it equally interesting to see models I don't recognise or know are no longer in place. The removal of a waxwork version of yourself must be a fairly devastating blow to the ego, I expect, especially if they melt you down because they're sure you're never coming back.

So, a few glimpses at who was in vogue in 1962. Let's start with perhaps the most ephemeral of all types of exhibit - the showbusiness models.

Here's the lad 'imself, one of the greatest comics Britain has ever produced, Anthony Hancock. By rights, he should still be there. Anyone up for a petition?

Pre Poppins, pre Maria, Julie Andrews is featured because of her stage fame in 'My Fair Lady'.

An interesting tableau. I get Tommy Steele, Leslie Caron in the centre, Bob Hope to the right. I have absolutely no idea who the man filling his pipe is, and the ginger fellow in the corner is actually quite creepy. Any ideas on the second left?

Peter Sellers, looking as difficult and pompous in image as he apparently was in real life. Fab Di Dors to his left, five years before appearing on the front of a Beatles album, you know, the famous one about condiments and the army.

Apparently, it's Harry Secombe. This series will run and run.

* Don Thompson was the only British male athlete to win a gold medal at the 1960 Olympics in Rome, for the 50km walk. 

Night Creatures

Captain Clegg and his phosphorescent gang take a little ride.