Michael remembers the weird old building of the NSM.

Michael: Go back to the library there was like a door, I think they knocked through a wall through the next building. So now you were in 99 Oxford Road was where Ms Euerby, Ms Rollins, Ms Wilde’s, Mr Duckworth’s, and Ms Carroll’s was and then you went through, as it were, a wall but you didn’t know and that was to 97 Oxford Road and now after the library you went into 95 Oxford Road which you just went through an ordinary room doorway. And there was a little room with a piano on the right and there were other rooms on the left fronting Oxford Road and immediately after this room with the piano you were in the old part of the building and it was very, very dark. It was—the walls were white, everything was brown stained, you know, they used to use a thing years ago called Van Dyck Crystals for painting, floors and woodwork. Van Dyck Crystals they came out sort of almost black and newel posts were done in Van Dyck Crystals and the bannisters and everything, Van Dyck Crystals, the floor was Van Dyck Crystals, the doors Van Dyck Crystals. Just awful. And ever— The lights were on but they had no effect, you know. They huge braided cables used to come down and the lights were on so long in the Northern that you could see in the top of the shades they’d gone yellow with being burnt. You know, they were so hot these bulbs. And they were always in your eyes, walking around with Cs, you know, in the back of your eye.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Michael remembers Ms Carroll's mysterious room.

So then you left that area—Oh, then the other thing that was in this corner, there was a connecting room to a recital room - connecting door. And that was the room behind 12, 13, and 14. In fact, I’ll show you on this diagram. The room behind 12, 13, and 14, was… Um… There. There’s the chairs, cupboard and Mr Haskein and things. This door opened outwards and this was the recital room with two pianos. Now in this corner here was a room which had a red or a grey door and it was permanently locked. We didn’t know what was in it and one day about 1970 I remember somebody saying, ‘Well have you seen in there, do you know what’s in there?’ And I said, ‘No, I don’t. I’ve never seen anyone go in, nobody come out’, and this was a store behind it because the door was in the recital room. So, anyway, one day we were sitting there waiting for our lesson and Ms Carroll turned up and she had a key and she opened this door and it was her private lavatory.
*Laughs* So when she sort of, you know, she sort of presumably went and as she went away we were talking, we said, ‘That’s a toilet in there’. You know. And one day it was left open and a friend of mine who was a student— or a pupil there at the same time called Jimmy Moorhouse who played brass said, ‘Hey, have you seen what’s behind this door?’ So I said, ‘What is it?’ And we had a look and it was this really… what would you call it… sort of delft blue patterned antique lavatory. You know, which was really slightly ever so posh. And that was hers, she had that.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Michael Baron describes Oxford Road in the 1960s/1970s.

Michael: On Sydney Street there was a building opposite there called the Palace Hotel. Now I know the Palace Hotel now is a posh place, isn’t it.
Heather: Yeah.
M: What was a refuge building. But there was the Palace Hotel which was a bit dingy and goodness knows what sort of hotel it was but… Then the rest of All Saints there was a typewriter shop, there was a penny—No— you know, probably shilling in the slot for renting a television, and then there was maybe an art shop, and Johnny Roadhouse "I sell and buy everything”, a little tiny , the narrowest sweet shop you’d ever saw and another shop called Carroll Arden who claimed himself the stylist for the stars and he was a hair dresser and his writing was in beautiful but faded Art Deco style, the 50s Art Deco you know modern letters. And the stars he was the stylist were people who came to Hulme Hippodrome.
Whatever— Yeah, but he certainly did Elsie Tyler’s hair at one point. Pat Pheonix she was called. So it was quite a lively place and on the other side of the road there were three bus stops which are probably still there. We had to stand at the right one otherwise you couldn’t get the right bus into Manchester and there was also gents ladies below street’s convenience, All Saints Gardens, Loxford school, pub on the corner of Loxford Street itself and there was a huge chapel at the back of the All Saints, massive, which I think was a store warehouse when I was a kid, and the Manchester ear hospital was there. And it was proclaimed in big letters, painted on the front ‘Manchester Ear Hospital’. And on the other side of All Saints was the art school and Cavendish church. So it was big important spacious, you know Manchester’s a bit hemmed in now. You could see the sky though.
So that’s what it was like, it was a big place, big school

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Michael recalls some of his NSM teachers.

I can illustrate two of the teachers by two little stories. They are both about going home on the bus, funnily enough. But one of them, a friend of mine had moved from school in Middleton to live in Chorlton and at that time you could get the 80 bus which went from Middleton to Chorlton and… I go an invitation to go and see them. So my mother agreed after my music lesson I… I wasn’t to go home, I was gonna get the 80 which you got outside the Cavendish church on Cavendish Street. And I went to the bus stop full of what I could do and everything, not fearing the world. And when I got to the bus stop I saw Ms Euerby coming up the road. And she came up to me and she stopped right by me and she said, ‘What are you doing here, Michael?’. She knew who I was. And I said, ‘Oh, well, Ms Euerby—‘ I told her what I told you: I’m going to St Werburghs Road, my friends moved from Middleton to St Werburghs Road. And she said, ‘Right’, she said, ‘Now, I’m going to tell you: On the south side of Manchester the bus stops are much further apart than they are in the north side. So when I get off the bus, you get up straight away and ride to the next stop on the platform’. And she talked to me all the way because she knew that I didn’t know that. And in Manchester with the old busses you get up as soon as the bus moves away from the stop and the conductor would ring the bell for you. You know, other towns they don’t do this. They wait until the bus stops and everybody has a mad rush for the door.
But that’s the thing. So— So, she said, ‘Now, don’t forget that’. And when she got up to get off, she said, ‘Right, off you go now. As soon as the bus moves, go to the platform’. And that—that was really Ms Euerby, that— You imagine that sort of mind— That’s detail, it’s care, it’s everything, and that’s who she was. And everybody that I knew who was taught by her would say the same.
Now the other one was Ms Brindley and Ms Brindley could appear quite frightening, having silenced a bunch of noisy children outside her room on a Saturday morning. And she could— She was very efficient, very busy, she stood no nonsense. And I— it must have been rag(?) week, I came out of the Northern and stood at All Saints, waiting for a bus and no bus came. And I mean you didn’t have to wait more than 30 seconds and a bus would be swarming down the road. So she came out and I had seen her on my bus before, once, so whether she had relations in Rochdale or she lived in Rochdale I don’t know. And she came over to the bus stop and she said, ‘Now, Michael’. See they all knew who I was.
And she said, ‘Now, Michael, how long have you been standing here?’ So I said, ‘Well, some time’, you know, ‘I don’t know’. And she said, ‘Well, this is ridiculous’. And she just left me at the pavement and she went and stood in the middle of the road and stopped a taxi. And made him turn around. And she said, ‘Right, get in’. So I got in this taxi and she said, ‘Right, Cannon Street’. And, you know, away we sped and she paid the taxi and everything then she said, ‘There, that’s better’. And—And that was Ms Brindley. Now that’s what these people were like: they were decision makers, they didn’t, sort of, you know, what’s the word… You know… no… No prevarication, you know, it had to be—the thing was done.
There was a job to do, right we’re gonna do it, which was the practical answer.


Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Michael recalls how the school fees were paid for.

Heather: Quite a musical family then. How was it all financed for you guys? Because it’s—Because there is— 3 kids at weekend school. And then your mum was a full time student. How was all that financed? Because that’s quite expensive!
Michael: Yes, it was. My… mother after the war, 47’, she was paid for by her mother.
And her mother had worked through the war and had saved all wages or as much as she could because there was no grant. There wasn’t— There just wasn’t a grant. Whether there wasn’t a grand if you didn’t go to university I don’t know and in any case I don’t think my mother would’ve wanted to go to university although she did go in later life. But in any case she went to the Northern and nana paid the bills which I seen then in a region of about 16 pounds a term, 16 guineas a term which was a sizeable amount because she was only earning herself somewhere in the region of 3 or 4 pounds a week which is an awful lot. I mean it’s a king’s ransom because really it’s—it’s 4 weeks wages which 4 weeks wages now would be 1600 quid. In fact, it might have been more than that, I don’t know. But it was a lot of money but she paid it and, you know, she had to find all the books, 2 buses, it was… it was… 4 pence from Middleton to Manchester and a penny ha’penny out here. So five fours is a 20, and what else 1 and 8, 3-4 pence on the Manchester-Rochdale bus and… 10 lots of penny ha’pennies, 1 and 3. So what did I say, 3 and 4, 4 or 7 pence which was again a sizeable amount of money a week for bus fares. And then anything else if she needed a dress, you know, things were still on the rations.
So she had to make her own stuff. So yeah, it was—it was that kind of thing. We were all paid for by mum and I think that possibly we might not have bought the whole package. There probably could have been other things that we might have had but she paid 6 guineas a term and I noticed when I was looking through Manchester digital archive that that fee never altered.
They said between 6 and 10 guineas a term so presumably how much you had or what you partook of was that, you know. So that was paid for out of earnings and yeah. It was— I think it was probably quite dear, you know, because I think you can still probably get a piano lesson for half a crown. When I was a kid so yeah. It was a sizeable amount. But it stuck to us, yeah, it was a good thing.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Michael Baron remembers the class behaviour and expectations of the NSM.

Michael: The only dissenting child ever was in that room with us and he was called David something other and he played the violin or the viola and he was quiet— he wasn’t young but he was big, I remember him as a big child, but he was so naughty and he crawled - and this was so unusual for the Northern - he crawled under the chair while we were working, he took his pencil and wrote ‘rubbish’ on your— while you were doing work. And because it wasn’t school… I don’t think Mrs Robinson really knew what to do with him, you know, because I mean at school you say well you know, ‘Get outside and go and visit the Headmaster’, or whatever. But there wasn’t anything he could say you see, anyway… Matters got really bad maybe 3 or 4 weeks with this nonsense and one— the very last time he was being naughty he pulled a chair up to the door and it had these patent closers, you know, but the old style had a big thing on and it was a drain full of oily fluid.
And what happened was as you opened it there was a big hole and all the fluid went in one side and then the little hole so the hydraulic fluid took its time.
Heather: Oh I see!
M: Yeah hydraulic springs.
And he started to undo it and it started to, you know, started to drip and Mrs Robinson really was very disappointed and I… I was quite frightened and I didn’t think it was funny at all. Anyway, the following week we were in the lesson upstairs and he was in there and he was just about hatching something when who should appear at the door but Mr Griffiths. And he caught him doing something and he picked him up by the collar and the boy threw himself on the floor, as it were, sat down and protested, ‘You can’t touch me’ and ‘I didn’t do anything’ and ‘I’m not a naughty boy’. And Griff said, ‘I don’t want to hear anymore of your nonsense’. And he dragged him out on his bottom by his collar and took him outside and dragged him down the stairs and we never saw him again. And I have no idea who he was.
But I was so grateful.
You know, that somebody had done something like that because he really was spoiling it for people and we weren’t sort of averse to fun but there was a time and a place, you know.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Michael explains the ideas of careers and enterprise in relation to the NSM studies.

Heather: Were there any of those kinds of opportunities when at the school to kind of… Were there any kind of entrepreneurship or anything going at the school at the time?
Michael: It didn’t occur in those days really in the same way because nowadays I can see— There was a chap on the television last night and he said, ‘I’m studying music business’.
And I said to my wife, ‘What do you think he is doing?’ And she said, ‘Well listen.’ And he is sort of studying how to find slots for people to promote them or how to get the music out there, they say.
These are all things that have appeared in the last 20 odd years. We… we… as we learned we didn’t have… Nothing was ever indicated to you that you might do this your life time through.
It was: you’re gonna learn it and you would learn it well.
Whatever use it would be to you would be of your making, but that was never pointed out. And so in a sense people of my generation unless they went to study in a university with somebody influential who could sort of recommend you. I mean, this is the end, if you will, the period I’m talking about, the 70’s, is like the end of the apprentice musician stage that started you know before baroque times.
And there was never any career pattern for anybody and nobody viewed it as a career. Even the people at the Northern I don’t think saw it as a… as a way forward. You could teach it… or—but the idea that you could play it was never really put to you, or the idea that you might make something of it was never, you know— But if there were exceptional students they were sort of highlighted, I can think of a few who were highlighted in concerts or you know different things.
But I think people were quite ambitious through school or music teachers at school who were beginning to see that there was actually a way into it. But I didn’t go to an influential school and I didn’t have influential teachers, particularly. So it meant that everything that I did had to be discovered by making mistakes and doing it wrong.
Or doing it the hard way and I think... a lot of people if you ask them the same question might say the same. I mean I’ve had piano pupils, made a lot of money out of piano teaching one time, but the reality of it is it’s very hard work, it’s tiring, you know. But I think that— Yeah, we didn’t— Nobody looked to— Enterprise came in post Margaret Thatcher. So once the sort of— Thatcher gives way to Major and then you get the Tony Blair period, that’s when it really picked up as enterprise.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Michael Baron remembers what the NSM made him feel as a child, and the impressions of his siblings.

Michael: Um, I want to say this about the Northern: the thing was when I asked John and Margaret about and Margaret was a bit… well ‘you know, I just sort of went and did the lessons’ sort of thing which is fine and she didn’t have particular feelings towards it but I know towards the end of it was… it was a chore. John said that it was a building that was just full of people who really wanted to teach you music and you wanted to learn it. So it— it was just full of wonder, you know it was absolutely wonderful. And there was this marvellous sort of atmosphere that nobody was going to sort of… You know, stop you doing it or tell you you did wrong or too badly or anything like that. And it was just really a happy place. It was everything, this Saturday school was everything that real school, day school, should have been and never was and never is now even, it was just magical. So, that’s how we got there and that’s how we came to go… Yeah.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Griff writes to Ida, saying he's gone for a walk, "and found it rather dull, especially after the super-one you mention, along the haunted lanes." Well that's a spooky tease.
"Only yesterday morning (Friday) we chucked away many pounds worth (in weight) of guides to European countries and towns, including of course the Italian Section." Probably in response to the war.
He reckons William Walton's Facade Suite and "it was amazing." He reckons that "Ballet Schools attached to foreign opera houses must have a fairly easy time of it so far as actual performances go."
He says "if you don't mind I would rather serve a short time in a library with a lot of nice ordinary books, modern fiction and so on; then I could proceed to the Music Library." He explains a multitude of initiatives he would make if he was in charge of the library.
He still has dreams of writing but it turns out that "novels are tall orders," and discusses the lucrative possibilities of other forms, and cinema suggestions.
He offers a plot for a novel but asks her for a plot for a play.
He talks about Burch church choir but "I am in terribly poor voice at present" and thinks he may not be able to commit to the new requirements from the choir's time. He likes the new "Hallé syllabus" (for the choir?) with a mix of modern and classic pieces.

Ref: CARROLL/IGC/3 GG
With thanks to the Ida Carroll Trust
Date is unknown.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Griff writes to Ida despite her assurance that no response is necessary. "The literary urge us now heavily upon me."
He relays his day, Manchester City's defeat, and the constant interruption to he writing by "interfering people" with "a lot of silly enquiries."
He enjoyed the ballet, "though I was stood on one leg most of the time at the back of the balcony."
He enjoyed choir practice at Birch with her father.

Ref: CARROLL/IGC/3 GG
With thanks to the Ida Carroll Trust
Date is unknown.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Griff writes to Ida passing on some well wishes from an acquaintance. He's back from sorting the accounts in Huddersfield and hopes not to return.
Ida's in high demand but seems to slip through people's fingers at church. He went home when he couldn't see her to practice his singing which was sadly not up to spec, "the next door neighbours suffered and I suffered. Probably the Parents suffered as well, but aunty is deaf."
He discusses radio concerts and the heavy work load at the travel agency as they "seem to be sending a good many people to a good many places, and life is getting a trifle complicated."
Cinema is compared and her plans for Port Patrick holiday are confirmed by her father at the travel agency as well as rummy league scores.

Ref: CARROLL/IGC/3 GG
With thanks to the Ida Carroll Trust
Date is unknown.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Griff writes to Ida now he's back from the Isle of Wight, and makes up for the things he missed when he wrote to her last.
He says that is she is getting a Sunday season ticket (likely for the Hallé) then he will have one too, if she isn't then neither shall he. He weighs up the pros and cons of getting on and says that if she is with him, there will be no negatives.
He discusses music, walks, radio, reading "six or seven books a week" (my God do you sleep?!), old friends and her preferred past times.

Ref: CARROLL/IGC/3 GG
With thanks to the Ida Carroll Trust
Date is unknown.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Griff thanks Ida for a programme to a concert he thoroughly enjoyed with Norman Allin and Sir Henry Wood. He knows the Hallé season tickets at moderate this time but he still hopes to pool in with someone else to share the cost.
He's a bit bitter over being left out of St James at Birch's centenary choir.
Griff offers speculation on her travel options for her Switzerland trip.
He's filling in at Altrincham for a colleague and hopes to catch at least some second halves of concerts on the radio.

Ref: CARROLL/IGC/3 GG
With thanks to the Ida Carroll Trust
Date is unknown.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Griff is jealous that Ida is going to Switzerland. He tells her he would hope to one day go on one of the free travel agents arrangements "where you are given passes and hotel accommodation but seem to spend a frightful lot."
He advises her on the best travel options, including some snarky advice about travelling through Paris on return, "take a piece of soap as well as your passport."
He thought of putting together his own travel agency based at Wilmslow "but heard an agency there would not be allowed by the all-powerful railway company."
He hopes he doesn't get stationed in Huddersfield (he does) and updates her on choir activity (there is none) and card score table (she's winning).

Ref: CARROLL/IGC/3 GG
With thanks to the Ida Carroll Trust
Date is unknown.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Griff writes to Ida while she's in Italy. Benjamin Britten's Piano Concerto No.1 is on the radio, "Benjy not only composed the thing, but played it. A double fault." A bit of shade there?
Griff's tobacconist whom relations in Milan "shocked me by saying coldly 'it's similar to Manchester.' After an incredulous interval, he said 'there's the cathedral, of course.'" He's sending a quick map to her in lieu of the London city guide.
"Have been to Denton today and Mr. Myer tells me Clyde Twelvetrees and Raymond Meert have been requested to resign from the Hallé-L'pool Phil-BBC engagement. Very sorry if this is true."

Ref: CARROLL/IGC/3 GG
With thanks to the Ida Carroll Trust
Date is unknown.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Griff writes to Ida while she's in London, that he "raided W.H. Smith's about evert other day and read some very fine novels," so that he "must have gone all Literary" in his letters to her.
He's sent her some transport advice in London and advises window shopping along Old and New Bond streets. He wonders if work would send him to work in the London offices over a few days so that he could see her.
"Mr J. just shot into the office, before I left for Oldham, wearing a vaguely green hat over the right eye, a grey sports shirt that suggested he had nothing underneath it, and he had a case that contained (a) a violin, (b) some lunch, or (c) a machine gun section."
The Celebrity Concert series is being held on Sundays which clashes dreadfully with his Birch choir practice. "But for the fact that I am afraid of your Pa [choirmaster], I should toy with the idea of a subscription. Even so, I fear I shall have to play wag from Church," to attend a couple and again miss a few on Wednesdays when the Halle Chorus is due to practice.
He hopes to go to the funfair to "ride on the electric bumper cars and indulge in other innocent games."

Ref: CARROLL/IGC/3 GG
With thanks to the Ida Carroll Trust
Date is unknown.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Griff tells Ida that he braved the perils of Manchester's transport system but twas in vain as he didn't make it in time to see her. He suffered "a tram of stately progress" when "at least two buses passed the tram and I simply Perished."
He went to play Rummy with his friends and as she wasn't there the "evening was Horrid" but he had to pretend t be shocked to learn that she wasn't coming. Their secret remains safe. Lovely food, though.
"Mrs Bower gave me some very sound advice, which I do not intend to follow, about the wearing of GOLOSHES!!" He admits he was a bit curt when the issue of supporting Birch church's bazaar fundraiser and refused to participate. "if I think I have a principle I am prepared to stick to it; unless proved in the wrong, when I will admit the fact, without shame." Without her presence he admits that he was a bit hot headed as her "Soothing Influence has been missing." He resents that the other members of the church and choir don't pull their weight in terms of donations, which would have meant "less need for outside efforts."
He advises Ida to "chain your Father down to the interior of the house if necessary" given this "beastly weather."

Ref: CARROLL/IGC/3 GG
With thanks to the Ida Carroll Trust
Date is unknown.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Griff tells Ida that he's heard about Matthay School of Music friend Clifford Curzon has played John Ireland's piano concerto in London, "the boy does have to hop about quickly."
He discusses the culture offer elsewhere "in Unmusical England" and says "I should like to be an impresario and hire Wigmore Halls and places. Star Matthay pupils could appear with better-known artists."
He's listening to concerts on the radio and admits he has been conned by a customer at the travel agency, "about the first time I've been bitten by the old confidence trick," leaving him "feeling small."
He sympathises with her cold.

Ref: CARROLL/IGC/3 GG
With thanks to the Ida Carroll Trust
Date is unknown.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Griff sends Ida the Rummy League table of results on the sly and she is firmly at the top. He suggests options for going to the cinema for their date on Saturday, annotating some titles with !! to "signify extreme Doubt as to Entertainment Value."
He discusses routes for getting to the Free Trade Hall for a concert and admits that "it was ridiculous of me to allow my personal feelings about some aspects of Church management and policy to intrude themselves into doings at Birch," specifically the choir. Having "a rather cold deal by one or two members of the congregation, there is no need for me to criticise the rest of them." Very mature.
He's going to listen to the radio and "ought to practice some sticky bits of Gerontius."

Ref: CARROLL/IGC/3 GG
With thanks to the Ida Carroll Trust
Date is unknown.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Griff writes to Ida while she's away at Stratford. He kindly dismisses her "little depreciations in regards to Tangents and things," thinking them both mostly sound.
He discusses her options for train travel and updates her on the Rummy score table. He hopes she is proud of him as when he was last playing Rummy with friends he did the dishes, "I mean, I live such a sheltered life at No.37 that I hardly know what a dish cloth looks like."
He updates her on his comings and goings, as well as friends, and sympathises with her cold and discusses remedies.

Ref: CARROLL/IGC/3 GG
With thanks to the Ida Carroll Trust
Date is unknown.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Griff writes to Ida urging her to leave alone all concerts and plans of going out in the next week and focus on getting better instead.

Ref: CARROLL/IGC/3 GG
With thanks to the Ida Carroll Trust
Date is unknown.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Griff writes to Ida sympathising with her trouble shaking a cold, blaming it on all the hard work she does and concerts she attends in the cold winter.
He's not feeling up to snuff himself, "I had a jolly good sing on Tuesday but was in poor form generally and finished last in Rummy."
He reckons that "colds are better than certain other discomforts but they are quite bad enough."
He's double booked himself in February between wanting to go to a William Rees concert and cards with friends.

Ref: CARROLL/IGC/3 GG
With thanks to the Ida Carroll Trust
Date is unknown.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

Griff writes to Ida thanking her for the wonderful piano accompaniment as he practiced his singing. He wasn't as nervous as he used to be with her, "in the old days I was apt to be reduced to a kind of sticky heat and fever, but it wasn't so pronounced last night."
He hopes she has enjoyed the play by Zola and still entertains the fantasy of writing one of their own. The "critics will come along in a big way and the public will then flock to see it and future success will then be assured. Quite easy, when you know how."

Ref: CARROLL/IGC/3 GG
With thanks to the Ida Carroll Trust
Date is unknown.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.

It is again New Year's Day 1939. This time, Griff writes to Ida describing his typewriter technique, the good old fashioned hunt-and-peck of one finger per hand, expecting those words he uses a lot, the speed of which "would take prizes in competition."
He describes in detail the ticket-issuing rigmarole at the travel office when the dates change.
He enjoyed the music on the radio, has been reading a play and relates the ranking of productions for 1938 as well as the astrologer Naylor's predictions and advice for the week.
He's reading Basil Dalton's Auction For Beginners and unsurprisingly, it won't help him much with his Rummy game.

Ref: CARROLL/IGC/3 GG
With thanks to the Ida Carroll Trust
Date is unknown.

Part of the #NSM2020 project "A 20/20 Legacy: the centenary of the Northern School of Music" supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund.