…and more unrequited love in the eternal city and beyond…
As I’ve mentioned before on these pages, the main reason I gave up the prospect of an academic career was because I was a lazy student and had a precocious talent for drawing and painting. In other words, I took the easy, relatively effortless option. However, if one person, other than yours truly was also highly influential in pushing me towards a career in art, it was my art teacher at Carmel College, Hermann Langmuir *.
Hermann (as we were bidden to call him) was a tall, bearded, charismatic Dutchman, whose knowledge of art and art history was only matched by his infectious enthusiasm for his subject. From the moment he joined the teaching staff, the Carmel art room metamorphosed from a gloomy, educational backwater, into the most happening and vibrant teaching space on the campus. This, combined with my loathing of formal classroom study and the fact I became one of his two star pupils (a huge nod to Jeremy Gerlis – a gifted draftsman and now FRSA), ensured that I would give up the chance of an Oxbridge future (virtually guaranteed to top Carmel academic performers back then) for the presumed bright lights and glamour of a London art college.
How all that turned out is well covered in previous posts, but what I have overlooked until now, was a trip Hermann organised for all his pupils, in the March of 1976, to Rome, Florence, Siena and Pisa. The following – un-treated – ancient photos (all taken on my old Canonet 28 Automatic), tell some of the story of that magical and hugely formative experience.
* If anyone reading this post has any knowledge of the whereabouts of Hermann these days, assuming he is still with us (I guess he would be well into his eighties by now), I would be keen to catch up with him. I should point out here, that if not for Hermann’s pleading with the headmaster, Rabbi Jeremy Rosen, I would not have been on the trip. I had entered Carmel in 1971, with my estranged father paying the considerable fees. However, when he fled to America in 1973 during the oil crisis and the subsequent crash of his advertising business, the school, very kindly allowed me to stay on at half-fees. As generous as this was, with my mother working as a poorly paid secretary, it still entailed my maternal grandparents using up much of their life-savings to keep me at the school. Thus, when the Italy trip was announced, my family had no cash spare to pay for it, and hence Hermann’s interceding with Rabbi Rosen on my behalf. Once again, the school came up trumps, and completely covered the costs of my travel and half-board accomodation, leaving me with only my lunches and daily refreshments to pay for. For this purpose, my very hard-up mum gave me the grand sum of £25 spending money, which I somehow managed to make last the entire ten-day trip, by restricting myself to slabs of margarita pizza, purchased from “hole in the wall” vendors. In any event, I never once felt deprived, and had one of the adventures of a lifetime. Thank you Hermann, wherever you are…









