The War Years (An Art Directorship!)
While I had been living the furnished live in Chelsea, among the inmates of the house in which I lodged had been the secretary of a film producer. As well as she could she had explained me to her employer. . .he offered me the job of lettering the titles of a number of travelogues he had made in pinkest Petra and other cities of the Near East.
. . when my work for him was finished, distributed me among the poor of the documentary film industry. I could hardly keep pace with the work, . .I flailed my limbs so wildly . . I caught hold, by accident, of an art directorship.
. . . over a Chinese restaurant in Wardour Street. . . I was asked . . . if I would paint the sets of a film. . . When I turned up the following day, this man was not present though a great many people were. None of these seemed to know anyone else or have the faintest idea what he himself was hired for. I wandered around . . until I arrived in a corner where one man was asking another, 'Well, what's it supposed to look like? ' Then he had an idea. 'Let's ask that bloke with the funny . . . Oh, here your are , ' he said as he caught sight of me. Explaining me to the other man, he added, 'He's your art director. '
'Oh, am I? ' I squeaked, delighted but surprised.
Working for the movies was the first job I ever wanted to do for reasons other than to show I could. For once, though I was prepared for defeat, I did not intend to embrace it. . . I applied for and, to my amazement, obtained a job in Studio Film Laboratories. My presence caused agony to the head of the studio. From lifelong habit I called him 'Sir ', . . . Also after a few weeks, he became aware that other members of his staff had learned by heart and were starting to use the detestable curlicues with which my discourse was decorated - nay, cluttered - and which later came to be called Crisperanto.
Within nine months I had once again been given the sack.
If I have any talent at all, it is not for doing but for being. In the humblest way, this I was now given the opportunity to demonstrate.
I became a model
. . when my work for him was finished, distributed me among the poor of the documentary film industry. I could hardly keep pace with the work, . .I flailed my limbs so wildly . . I caught hold, by accident, of an art directorship.
. . . over a Chinese restaurant in Wardour Street. . . I was asked . . . if I would paint the sets of a film. . . When I turned up the following day, this man was not present though a great many people were. None of these seemed to know anyone else or have the faintest idea what he himself was hired for. I wandered around . . until I arrived in a corner where one man was asking another, 'Well, what's it supposed to look like? ' Then he had an idea. 'Let's ask that bloke with the funny . . . Oh, here your are , ' he said as he caught sight of me. Explaining me to the other man, he added, 'He's your art director. '
'Oh, am I? ' I squeaked, delighted but surprised.
Working for the movies was the first job I ever wanted to do for reasons other than to show I could. For once, though I was prepared for defeat, I did not intend to embrace it. . . I applied for and, to my amazement, obtained a job in Studio Film Laboratories. My presence caused agony to the head of the studio. From lifelong habit I called him 'Sir ', . . . Also after a few weeks, he became aware that other members of his staff had learned by heart and were starting to use the detestable curlicues with which my discourse was decorated - nay, cluttered - and which later came to be called Crisperanto.
Within nine months I had once again been given the sack.
If I have any talent at all, it is not for doing but for being. In the humblest way, this I was now given the opportunity to demonstrate.
I became a model