|
Felix
Bernasconi “I’ll be seeing you in all the old familiar places...”
FELIX BERNASCONI, as his name suggests, was not Norfolk born-and-bred, although the county was to become his home for nigh on eighty years. His grandparents, the Bernasconis, had arrived in this country from Italy during the mid-1800s and were shopkeepers in Norwich. Their son Henry married a local girl but, upon finding work in a car factory – Lagonda, no less – he and his wife moved to the Middlesex area. Eventually they had a son Felix Stanley Bernasconi (he tried his hardest to keep his second name hidden at Jarrolds! – Albie) who was born in Hammersmith, London, in 1911. A
PASSION FOR ART His art master, Gilbert Sayer, thought Felix showed great promise and gave him every encouragement. It was at that time that Felix discovered his art master had a daughter, Joan – also an accomplished artist – with whom a friendship began to blossom and who he was to marry in 1937. Enrolling at Great Yarmouth School of Art, Felix continued to develop his drawing and paintings skills, culminating in being awarded a scholarship at the Royal College of Art (or was it the SLADE College of Art as Felix always told Albie?). Early in 1932, he gained a prestigious scholarship at the Royal Academy of Art, where he was greatly influenced by John Nash with his very graphical form of painting, and something which was to become evident in Felix’s artwork during his time at Jarrolds. He graduated from the RA in 1935, and began work in London, until war intervened... ON
HIS MAJESTY’S SERVICE
It seems whenever his ship berthed in some foreign port, Felix was always the last to go ashore – if at all – as, whilst his fellow shipmates would make a beeline for whatever delights were on offer – usually of the fairer sex kind – Felix would content himself armed with his sketchbook and keeping an artistic record of the sights he’d seen. Torpedoed and shipwrecked three times – or so the tale was told – Felix lived through the danger and hardship as if he had a charmed life. Unfortunately, most of his personal belongings, including his sketchbooks, were lost each time, all ending up in Davy Jones’ locker! On one occasion, Felix was below decks sleeping in his bunk when the torpedo struck the ship’s hull, with devastating effect. He barely had time to scramble out of his bunk, let alone grab any of his belongings, before the ship started to sink. Luckily, help was close at hand and Felix was hauled from the freezing waters by the crew of a US Navy corvette. However, being immersed in thick black oil from the ship’s engines, he was mistaken for a person of a different race and ‘segregated’ by his rescuers! He was definitely not amused, he told Albie! SEEKING
WORK Starting work at Jarrolds in October 1945, initially alongside other litho artists until the mid-1950s when the Design department was formed, Felix was to remain there as senior artist until he retired in 1976. ALBIE
AND FELIX Whilst Albie lived in Sheringham, on the north Norfolk coast and one end of the railway line, Felix was placed more centrally, getting off at Gunton station for a short bicycle ride to Willow Cottage, his home in Bradfield, just outside North Walsham!
In fact, on the homeward journey, Felix came to rely on Albie as, once the train departed Norwich Thorpe station, he would always drop off to sleep. But as long as Albie was on hand to give Felix the vital nudge just as the train entered Gunton station, he would awake at the last moment and alight from the train. The system worked well, it has to be said, only failing the once when Albie was having a ‘sickie’ – and Felix ended up at Cromer Beach station and a long wait for the next train back up the line to Gunton! In those heady days of the early 1960s, the train crews were on familiar terms with their passengers, which was just as well as Felix was often late for his early-morning train. Frequently, the guard was to be seen, pacing the platform on Gunton station, keeping a lookout for Felix cycling to the station. Not once was the train allowed to depart before the artist from Bradfield had boarded! Albie tended to be rather impatient, disliking being late for work and, all the more so, being late home. So he had a tendency to rush about whilst Felix was very laid back and would take everything in his stride. One night, when walking to the station, in reply to Albie’s requests to ‘get a move on!’ for fear of missing their train, Felix simply said: “It’s better to be late, than in a crate!” Putting the lad well and truly in his place! The result? They missed their train!
FELIX
THE ARTIST His was a natural talent, not something you could get out of books, and he sketched and painted from the heart, rarely seeking reference and never making use of tracing paper. All his ideas came straight out of his head, such was his wealth of experience and imagination. He spent his time wisely, out and about in Norfolk, never without his sketchbook. And in his work it showed!
Lunchtimes never came soon enough for Felix. As soon as the works’ klaxon sounded he would head off, armed with his sketchbook and a lunchbox full of homemade buns. His wife Joan, an artist as well, always saw to it that he had a plentiful supply of sultana-studded buns for his lunch – sometimes topped with a nice plump red cherry!
Then there was his flask. It was always assumed by many to have contained tea, but Albie discovered Felix had a taste for cocoa! In the city centre he’d sketch scenes of the market place or castle, but his favourite place was Mousehold Heath where he would spend all lunchtime perfecting his drawings of trees and landscapes in general. His drawings and paintings came alive, you could almost lose yourself in them they were so lifelike, yet at the same time flowing with spontaneous freedom and never overworked. And there, if you looked hard enough, you could just make out enough detail in the background to suggest a familiar landmark, but only just, as Felix knew just when to stop!
It didn’t end there of course; as soon as he was back home and indoors, he would get to work in his studio drawing and painting well into the early hours – so it was little wonder he dropped off to sleep on the train. Sometimes, in his later years at Jarrolds, it wasn’t unknown for him to get caught napping over his drawing board. But even that he had perfected to a fine art. Placing his paintbrush in contact with the paper to make it appear he was still hard at work, Felix would gradually nod off, his eyes closed behind his glasses! Everyone knew of course, and laughed (quietly!) amongst themselves, but Felix never suspected a thing! Or did he?
FELIX MEETS A CELEBRITY This was the one and only time he had to work from photographs, such as they were, yet still managed to produce a superb result, or at least everyone thought so, except... ...Patrick Moore, who, looking at the work of art, said: “It’s all right... for a rough!’ Felix’s face dropped. But Patrick was only joking, such was his wicked sense of humour!
FLOWERS
AND WINE Often, whilst the train at Gunton station for Felix to arrive, Albie and the other passengers would catch sight of him on his bike, furiously pedalling, clutching a huge bouquet of flowers with his free hand. Dropping his bike on the platform, for the friendly porter to put away for him, Felix would make a quick dash for his train much to the amusement of the other passengers.
During the summer months, he often took flowers for his friends at Jarrolds, who would pay the princely sum of two shillings and sixpence! A huge bunch of flowers, thought the lucky buyers, and, as it happened, good value for money as it even including the earwigs! Although Felix never drank anything stronger than cocoa, one day he became involved in the home-brewing business. It all began with his next-door neighbour who worked on the farm next door. Now the farm labourer – George was his name – was particularly fond of homemade wine and, as Felix’s vegetable garden was brimming over with a glut of parsnips, the subject of winemaking cropped up. A deal was struck, more or less on the grounds that George would supply the sugar for the heady brew whilst Felix would provide freshly-dug parsnips and the wherewithal (or so he said!) to concoct the mesmerising potion. And, I almost forgot to mention, no money would ever change hands – just the odd rabbit or two for Felix’s dog, Nelson! Eventually, having ‘perfected’ the art of manufacturing parsnip wine, and with some surplus bottles, Felix proudly took a consignment to work. The bottle of milky-white liquor was passed round the department and many of the designers took a swig – except Albie, that is, who didn’t like the look of it. After a while the verdict was pronounced to be: a good floral nose, lemony highlights, with a pronounced earthy aftertaste to it, and, judging by the red faces and lack of work for the rest of the day, a potent finish – just as long as you strained all the bits and pieces through your teeth! On the day of Felix’s retirement, all the members of the Design department were treated to a full glass of his parsnip wine (even Albie), though, it has to be said, the potted plants began to wilt and die in rather mysterious circumstances a week or two later!
DESIGN
CAPERS This usually took the form of some friendly ‘ribbing’ between the designers or by the drawing of cartoons, which were passed from one to another. Albie, being the new boy, came in for a lot of harmless ridicule (over his lack of success with the ladies!) but responded, to everyone’s amusement, by drawing cartoons of Felix, who would return the favour and yet more cartoons would be circulated amongst the designers.
Felix liked a joke as well as anyone, and was even known to draw cartoons of himself, although the unfortunate Albie was usually the target for his caricatures! Although not a religious man – in fact, woe betide anyone who broached that subject with him! – sometimes it would show through in his cartoons, such as in the ‘Bishop of Bradfield’. Over the years that followed, Albie tried to capture Felix’s likeness in his own cartoons, and went to great efforts to get all the details just right, as the following drawing, ‘Time for a Rest’, by Felix shows. All these cartoons were eventually gathered up and pasted in a large book for all to see, though what the Managing Director would have made of the antics within the Design department is anybody’s guess!
Sometimes, however, a harmlessly-intended joke went just a bit too far. Felix, although usually such a gentle man, was pushed too far one day when a certain member of the Design department went just a bit too far. Losing his temper for a moment, Felix grabbed the offender by the scruff of his neck and pinned him against a door. His enormous fist was pulled back ready to unleash his full fury on the miscreant, who shall remain nameless (but he was a suave, sophisticated young man who came from Attleborough!), but, thankfully, common sense prevailed and the situation was defused by an aptly-timed apology.
HIS ‘NELSON’ When he arrived at Willow Cottage in Bradfield, just outside North Walsham, Felix and his wife Joan were in the garden, together with their docile-looking pet, which was stretched out, fast asleep, on the lawn beside them. Deciding against venturing through the front gate, Albie called out over the fence to Felix and Joan, but they failed to hear him due to a strong wind. Plucking up courage, he opened the latch on the gate and, stepping into the front garden, he closed the gate behind him. Again, he called to the Bernasconis, again they failed to hear him. Walking up the front path Albie got to within a couple of feet without being noticed. “Hello, Felix...” he managed to say before all hell broke loose. Felix jumped up in the air, Joan did likewise, and Nelson, well, he flew snarling and snapping at Albie and sank his teeth into the lad’s ankle, biting clean through his trousers! Nelson was certainly not one to take prisoners! “He’s just playing,” Felix told his young friend. “Very affectionate, our Nelson,” said Joan. “Will you call him off, please!” Albie moaned, writhing in agony as Nelson’s teeth tightened their grip and he began shaking his prey from side to side, slathering all over Albie’s turn-ups. At work the next day, Albie began telling Tony Mullins, his friend from Attleborough (oh dear, the cat’s out of the bag now!), of how he’d been bitten by Felix’s dog. “Nelson was only playing,” was Felix’s remark, overhearing the two in conversation. “Look here, Felix! Do you call this playing?” replied Albie, rolling up his trouser leg and displaying two, inflamed, red bite-marks on his ankle. “This is where Nelson stuck his fangs in me...” Felix said nothing, and began to pour another cup of cocoa. Tony Mullins smirked, walked back to his deskm singing: “Fangs... for the memory...!”
A
FINAL MEMORY FROM ALBIE “We worked together, had a laugh together – sometimes at each other’s expense – then travelled home together on the same train. “We went sketching together, at least he did, sketching I mean, I just watched and learnt something. “He often scolded me as to my choice of music, ‘That’s not real music!’ he said of Elvis Presley, Cliff Richards or the Everly Bros. His choice of music was from the golden days, and, just as Felix knew where to stop with a painting, I will end with the words (and music, such as I could find) of his favourite song, and one he would often sing to us in Design...” I’LL
BE SEEING YOU I’ll
be seeing you in every lovely summer’s day “...and
that’s how I will always remember Felix.”
|
