I’m afraid there has been another hefty gap since my last post, mainly due to my setting up that art exhibition at Fireking Cafe/Gallery here in Tokyo. I’m realising that I need to speed things up a little, or this blog will go on for years. It is just as well, then, that while I have a soft spot for this track, and the charming lady who made it, I really don’t have a great deal to tell you about it or her.
Mary Longford was a miniaturist before we met (as explained above), and although we came into contact through Time Out magazine, it turned out she was a neighbour, living just a minute or two by bicycle from me, quite close to the thriving Portobello Road area. After visiting her rather smart large apartment I got the impression that she had a kind and dedicated husband with a good job (in the City, perhaps) who supported her in her outlandish theatrical endeavours.
She seemed to have made quite an impact in the, shall we say, indie theatre scene, as evidenced by her write-up in Time Out and the snippets of information from the Miniatures poster, shown above. It is slightly mystifying to me, then, that in this all-access internet age I have googled her to within an inch of her life and not found any more information re her subsequent career or her current whereabouts.
If anyone knows how to reach Mary Longford I would be delighted if you would drop me a line. In the meantime, enjoy this rather touching way she explains her attitude to her perfectly imperfect freckled feet, hands, and breasts.
Having dealt with this post in a disgracefully brief number of paragraphs, I will now move on to the next, to cover another wonderfully British personage who I am glad to say is visible and active in the public sphere these days.
Next up: A man? A band? A piano? A dentist? All?