Tittenhurst: more relics o' Kenwood & Sunny Heights.

Combined statuary of Kenwood and Sunny Heights, captured together at Tittenhurst in the summer of 1977; the lions last seen on the back terrace round Ringo's gaff, and the figure famous from the Sgt Pepper sleeve, if not the front door at Kenwood:


Of course, it's no surprise that John's Kenwood statues were there; in 1969, they were sitting behind the main house, outside the Assembly Hall:


By 1977, Ringo had moved them round the front:


All, familiar from St George's Hill, present and correct:


The whos, whats, whys and (these days) wheres of John's "busts" remain unclear. Where did he get them? Where are they now? What am I talking about? Who are they? The impressively tached-up one may be Lord Kitchener. Phillip Norman's recent biography of John pontificates thusly: "In the book lined front hall (at Kenwood) hung a Great War recruiting poster, with Lord Kitchener pointing a stern forefinger above the famous slogan "Your Country Needs You". John positioned it so that anyone approaching the front door was greeted by Kitchener's baleful, mustachioed stare through an adjacent window."
Baleful, mustachioed stares to one side, it may be that, in fact, it was this statue that spent a period inside Kenwood, looking out the window by the front door. Or not.
In any case, that most certainly is a baleful, mustachioed stare, if ever I've seen one:


Thanks again to Thomas Rhyner for generously sharing his pics.

Tittenhurst: relics o' Kenwood, 1977.

As Stuart Sutcliffe might have said: Can you tell what it is yet?
The last mention of the Kenwood caravan on these pages placed it at the bottom of the sea, having sunk on its way back from John's island, Dorinish.
So much for rumour.
In fact, the caravan arrived safely at Tittenhurst, and was left standing near what was then the main gate. Exposure to the elements has taken its toll; the paintwork wrecked, the Sgt Pepper motif long since washed away.
This photo, and others to follow, were taken by Thomas Rhyner in the summer of 1977. Chutzpah is all; having spotted the open gates, he walked through, camera in hand. Upon being challenged, Thomas asked if he could take some photos, and, amazingly enough, was told he could, provided he was gone in half an hour, because "Ringo is due back then, and if he sees you wandering about, he'll get medieval on yo' ass with peace and love." (Or words to that effect.)
Luckily, Thomas had a keen eye, and captured a number of interesting photos in his allotted survival time. He also happened to be standing in roughly the same spot as the photographer in this shot from the Beatles' final photo session:


The freshly painted caravan, for comparative purposes:


Wandering farther into the grounds, he noticed this:


...the distinctive round seat from the acorn installation at Coventry Cathedral in 1968, last seen at Kenwood outside the den window:


What has since become of these "items"? Ringo moved out of Tittenhurst in 1988, and it's quite possible they went with him; if so, the caravan and seat may be sitting still somewhere in the grounds of his Surrey pile.

I sort of hope so.

Many thanks to Thomas for sending these in; more to follow.

Kenwood: sunroom sofa, 1985.

Re-upholstered and sitting out on the grass, for reasons of...errr: The sunroom sofa, circa 1985.
It's currently on display at the Hard Rock Cafe, Orlando. This is a guess, but how it got there may have been roughly as follows: When John finally moved out of Kenwood in the early part of 1969, he and Yoko were without a home. Sunny Heights, vacated by Ringo at the end of 1968, was without a buyer, so John/Yoko moved in for several months, taking the sofa with them. The Ono-Lennons, of course, eventually moved to Tittenhurst; the iconic couch got left behind, and thus gifted to the Starkeys.
The familiar yellow cashmir covering, worn out from the amount of time John's arse had spent parked on it, needed seeing to; so Maureen, a dab hand at such things, gave it a new, blue covering.
When she and Ringo split, the sofa fell into her hands (not literally), and was later sold at Sotheby's, (coincidentally) to her future husband Isaac Tigrett (founder of the Hard Rock Cafe)(or else to someone who then sold it to Mr Tigrett)...and so to Florida (honey).
Many thanks to Jon Warren for the pics and information.
*UPDATE* The date on this post was originally 1988, but it turns out these pics date from around 1985, so I changed it. It also turns out that the couch was sold at Sotheby's; again, I've altered the post to reflect the new information. There has been some monkey business with the hole - I'll do a whole hole post...later.

Kenwood: dawn of A Day In The Life?

As far as I know, there aren't any home demos of A Day In The Life in circulation. Possibly the closest thing that exists can be found on the slightly naughty Japanese "misterclaudel" label. The Lost Home Tapes 1965-1969 gathers various examples of John's Kenwood recordings, some familiar, some less so, in generally superior audio quality; which is all well and good. (Though naughty.)
Perhaps the most intriguing track is "Hold On I'm Coming"; not the (possibly naughty) Sam and Dave tune, but an original Lennon demo, recorded up in the attic. Sam and Dave's Hold On was released in March 1966, and doubtless played non-stop in clubs such as the Ad-Lib; John probably borrowed the title in order to kick start a new tune. The demo was recorded on a Kenwood work tape, also featuring early versions of She Said, She Said, and almost certainly dating circa spring/summer 1966.
Upon first listen it sounds nothing like A Day In The Life. But then the vocals drop out near the end, and you suddenly hear a snatch of those familiar chords, and that distinctive mechanical back and forth guitar rhythm that John employed on the song. Listen again, and imagine "I read the news today..." floating over the top. You might even try singing it yourself, provided you are sufficiently pished.
For my somewhat meagre money, and assuming that this demo was actually taped in 1966, there's a fair chance that John discarded Hold On I'm Coming, only to re-work the chords and turn them into a masterpiece.
See what you think:

Sunny Heights: then and now, part 4.

Ringo owned Sunny Heights for around 4 and a half years. Concurrently, he also had the lion's share of a construction company - Bricky Builders, and as a result went hog wild on the house. Immediately upon buying Sunny, what amounted to another residence was tacked on the side; it was this bit that played host to Ringo's exclusive club - called, after much thought, The Club. The Fabs spent more time socially at Sunny Heights than at any of the other Beatle houses; John, in particular, was always here between 1965 and 1967, when not...somewhere else. The Club had a bar, and a pool table imported from the States - unusual in the UK at that time.
There was also a garage to house the various de rigeur automobiles. Tammy recently posted a pic taken at Sunny shortly after the new extension had been completed; what's obvious is that in true St George's Hill style, an extension to the extension was put on at some point - the garage is considerably bigger these days:


Mind you, it's quite possible Ringo was responsible for that too; the news section of the Beatles Book monthly seemed forever to be recounting building work at Sunny Heights during the era o' Richie.
Bricky Builders also worked on Kenwood - I wouldn't be surprised if they built the large garage overlooking the swimming pool. What's more, the firm constructed quite a few properties from scratch in the Home Counties of England, though precisely where these are I don't know. It would be interesting to see if they bear any influence from Sunny/Kenwood or Kinfauns.
The last glimpse of Beatle-era Sunny Heights comes in the opening few seconds of the promo film for The Ballad Of John And Yokos, where said John and Yokos are seen coming out the front door and climbing into their Rolls, circa early summer 1969; three years previously, Ringo was photographed in the same location, dicking about on his girly wheels (for want of better expressions):


Thanks to Joe Baiardi for the bike pic.

Kenwood: NME interview - November 28, 1964.

Secrets of the House of Lennon, apparently. This interesting document constitutes the first substantial bit of Kenwood related press; the interview was conducted there on Saturday November 28, 1964, and published a week later in the NME. (As usual, click on it and zoom in for a readable view.)
So, what "secrets" does it actually contain? From the vantage point of now, not a lot, although we do learn that one of John's cats was a gift from George, and that there was no gate on the property at the time of the interview. (According to a couple of people with close connections to the house circa '80s/'90s, the heavy wooden gate that John eventually installed, familiar from Reporting '66, was eventually removed, and sat discarded by the main entrance for years. Its ultimate fate is unknown, although probably landfill.)
This was pre-sunroom, too, so the mention of going through the kitchen would have either led them out the other side of the house, or through the dining room.
What else? The location of Julian's room is narrowed down a bit; it must have been either bedroom no. 3 or bedroom no. 4 on the Partridge plan - probably no. 4, as previously suspected. The Blue Room may well have been bedroom no.2:


The journalist also recorded an interview with John about Kenwood, for BBC radio's The Teen Scene - thus far unbootlegged, and therefore presumably lost. Still, all interesting stuff, and many thanks to Eric Nernie for sending it in.

In other "news", a close relative of manufacturer Kenneth Wood has been in touch: He's checked, and the story about Mr Wood owning and re-naming the property turns out not to be true after all. So, it remains a mystery as to 'oodunit and why...but possibly a tip of the hat to Kenwood House in Hampstead. Or not.
(A pity, though - this would have been the best chance of obtaining some pre-Lennon images of the place.)

Sunny Heights: then & now, part 3.

The living room at Sunny Heights, then as now, leads onto the back terrace; it, at least, appears to have endured:


If you are anything like me, you look at these iconic images and think, "Yes, that's all very well indeed, but what lurks behind that window/door/copy of the Times?"
In this case, thrillingly, a dining room:


And apropos of nothing and everything, the feedback at the start of It's All Too Much, as rendered on the remasters, is a thing of awe at volume.

Yet more tache: May/June, 1967.

It's unusual to see John tached-up sans "grannys". Assuming (possibly wrongly) that these were all taken at the same time, it must have been between May 5 and June 8, for tache-related reasons which have been gone into, in too much detail, already.
One possibility is that they are from the Speakeasy, on either May 24 or the early hours of June 1. Gary Brooker, of Procol Harum, who was playing the Speakeasy on the 24th, doesn't recall the Beatles being there, although it is listed in a lot of the tomes. He spake thusly: "I don't know if they were down the Speakeasy when we played. I only remember Jimi Hendrix being there, so...they could have been sneaking around in the background." Hmmm.
By contrast, members of the Turtles actively recall seeing the Beatles at the Speakeasy on the second date.
Then again, it may well be neither of those (possibly one of the other clubs?). Whatever, whenever and wherever, it's fairly clear that Ringo has slightly overdone it.

Smedley Fish & Chips: Roman Road, Taunton.

Smedley's chip shop, 15 September 1967, and the same location 43 years later. It's not every day that one's chippy gets a visit from the cast of Magical Mystery Tour; that much, at least, can safely be stated.
The story goes that the proprietors, James and Amy Smedley, were actually the grand-parents of "little" Nicola Yale (or Hale, as she was known), familiar from the film. Mrs Smedley's niece was apparently in charge of recruiting extras, and thus the Smedley-Yale-Hales got embroiled.
If so, then that's possibly Amy Smedley herself on the steps of the Atlantic Hotel in Newquay, judging by the dress:


These days, the chippy is still used for such purposes, being a Chinese takeaway/"fish bar" called the Phoenix, and looking remarkably similar inside:


But what does all this matter, I hear you mutter? Errr...we'll get back to you on that one. Right, Ringo?


Thanks to Eric Nernie for the vintage Smedley's pic.

Hare & Hounds: Churchdown, Gloucestershire.

It turns out not to be Merseyside, but rather Gloucestershire, in the town of Churchdown...and the pub is still there too. This from Mark Lewisohn:
"As some readers of the blog have realised, the photo was taken during Paul and George’s hitch-hiking holiday. I have been sleuthing the day-to-day route of this original mystery tour, summer 1959, for the first volume of my Beatles History trilogy, out in autumn 2011, and this latest piece of the puzzle now drops nicely into place."
I was quite surprised by the number of similar looking pubs called the Hare & Hounds that seem to exist in the north-west and west of England (and Wales too, I dare say).
Anyway, thanks again to all who sent suggestions.

Hare & Hounds: ???

Mark Lewisohn is wondering if anyone out there can identify the location of this photo. Please leave a comment, or contact me via the header email address with the details if it looks familiar. Thanks.

2 Strathearn Place: the Dental Experience.

There has probably been too much LSD-related shenanigans on these pages of late (Greek chorus: "You think?"). But one thing leads to another...so here's a bit more: The London flat of cosmetic dentist John Riley, as pictured circa 1963, two years before he invited John & George round for dinner/conversation/spiked coffee.
The full story of what happened here has been told many times, but for those seeking an eye-witness account, and a picture of Riley himself, Steve Turner's excellent tome The Gospel According To The Beatles has the details; it includes an interview with Riley's then girlfriend, who was also present that night.
Incidentally, in addition to supplying John, George and spouses with their first acid, Riley also provided the "nosferati" in Polanski's The Fearless Vampire Killers with their teeth, though possibly not on the same evening:


Thanks to Julian Carr for finding the vintage pic of Strathearn Place, and to the City of London, London Metropolitan Archives for permission to use it.

Sunny Heights: then & now, part 2.

Contemporary views of the master bedroom and en-suite overlooking the distinctive balcony at the rear of the property, together with exterior shots from you know when.
The main drawing room, compared with the Ringo era, is almost unrecognisable these days, with not a lava lamp or inflatable Pluto in sight. The brickwork chimney is long gone too. However, the door leading onto the terrace, where John was famously pictured in proto-Pepper gear, remains:

Sunny Heights: then & now, part 1.

As we've seen, from behind the house looks much the same as when Ringo lived there. The grounds have been significantly altered, however, with part sold off to provide land for another mansion.
The swimming pool is also new; it's situated on roughly the same spot as this very much tached-up photo:


Inside, the house has inevitably undergone a lot of renovation. But, fairly astonishingly, the none-more-psychedelic painting evident in a couple of Ringo-at-home shots from 1967 is still there:


From this angle, it's evident that it was painted straight onto the wall:


That subsequent owners have chosen to preserve this painting beggars belief, given the general attitude of Sic Transit Gloria Mundi ("Slash & Burn" to you and me) that usually informs renovation on St George's Hill; yet there it is. A small relic of the Beatle Belt abides.
More to follow...

Cynthia Lennon: interview (& John's response).

An interview from the mid-1970s (click on it for a readable view), covering the Kenwood years. What's of most interest, however, is that not only did John happen to read this article, but he also wrote a riposte to Cynthia (which can be found in Keith Badman's book, Beatles After The Breakup):
"Dear Cynthia,
As you and I well know, our marriage was long over before the advent of LSD or Yoko Ono, and that's the reality! Your memory is impaired, to say the least. Your version of our first LSD trip is rather vague. And you seem to have forgotten subsequent trips altogether. You also seem to have forgotten that, only two years ago, while I was separated from Yoko Ono, you suddenly brought Julian to see me after three years of silence. During this visit, you didn't allow me to be alone with him for one moment. You even asked me to remarry you and or give you another child for Julian's sake. I politely told you no, and that anyway I was still in love with Yoko (which I thought was very down to earth). There were no detectives sent to Italy. Our mutual friend Alex Mardas went to Bassanini's hotel to see how you were, as you said you were too ill to come home. Finally, I don't blame you for wanting to get away from your Beatles past, but if you are serious about it, you should try to avoid talking to and posing for magazines and newspapers. We did have some good years, so dwell on them for a change, and as Dylan says, it was "a simple twist of fate."
Love and good luck to you from the three of us,
John."
Of course, it's impossible not to feel some sympathy for Cynthia. But it's also interesting to see John get a right of reply, and challenge one or two of her oft-repeated gripes. Quite a good little pun there at the end, too.

Kenwood: bottle.

Due to the media frenzy, details of the find have been removed at the request of the photographer. Apologies.
However, some more information concerning the bottle has come to light. An expert in these matters dates it to the 1930s or 1940s. The monogram on the base will probably represent either the bottle maker, or the manufacturer of whatever the bottle originally contained; the hunt is still on to pin that down precisely.
Apparently, it is not uncommon to find buried groups of bottles in these circumstances...all of which neither rules in nor out the Lennon connection.

Kenwood: autograph, circa 1965.

An interesting lot from a sale at Christie's New York, in December 2006. It's a signed copy of In His Own Write, obtained by the seller during a visit to Kenwood in the company of Brian Epstein. Note the dedication - "To Diz"; unconfirmed rumour has it that said seller was none other than Brian's notorious inamorato John "Diz" Gillespie.
(Credit to Eppylover for originally unearthing this.)

Cavendish Avenue: living room, 1969.

Interior pictures of Cavendish Avenue are fairly rare, but here's one of John and Yoko in the living room, in 1969. This room, overlooking the familiar back garden steps, was where the Beatles met before recording sessions or other Beatle business pre-Apple. On March 21, 1967, it also saw a visit from the Emperor of Eternity... apparently.

A weekend away, part 2: August 25, 1967.

This one taken by two Iraqi students, who found themselves sharing the train to Bangor with assorted table-tappers, on August 25, 1967. Lucky, really.

Kenwood: attic, June 1967.

Beat Instrumental, the Beatles Monthly's sister publication, also covered the June '67 visit to Kenwood, and featured an article about the attic studio in its October 1967 issue. Click on it for a better view:


Many thanks to Richard Morton Jack for sending this in.

Kenwood: the boot gets the boot.

So, what became of the boot? Local magazine Surrey Life has uncovered the answer. It turns out the boot was at Kenwood for no time at all.
To be brief, John quickly grew tired of it, and so it was donated to the local Rag Week (an annual event where British students raise money for charity, often by being irritating). In this case, the boot was hollowed out, put on wheels, and pushed to Luton in a sponsored event. What became of it thereafter I don't know, but it probably didn't survive. A fitting end, somehow.

Kenwood: winter, 2008.

...and the same view 40 years later, courtesy of Joe Baiardi. Thanks to him for sending this in.

(NB: Joe's images should not be reproduced without his permission.)

Kenwood: spring, 1969.

An image (at least purported to be) from spring, 1969. It's still unclear when John and Yoko finally vacated Kenwood, but possibly around then.

Kenwood: attic - June, 1967.

Yet another attic photo appears, this time showing the hitherto unseen end of John's studio, which turns out to have housed... yet another piano. Surprisingly enough.