At least I recovered….
The Kiwi did rather better. Here he is on the next round:
And here are my tips:
Having betrayed the Bunnies last round, I am repenting in dust and ashes this time! Not all that confidently though.
Is that really me in the Albury Hotel?
A section, much enlarged, of the crowd around the main bar during one of the famous Albury Shows. Think Priscilla, Queen of the Desert! This is c.1988-1990, and is from an archive currently being posted in the Facebook group Lost Gay Sydney by Thomas Roman. And indeed around that time I was, as I said here back in 2021, in the Albury rather frequently. In fact I lived just a stone’s throw away, close enough to be able to hear these shows from my bedroom!
And again we return to the Albury Hotel…
YouTube and then (once I have shared) my Facebook page keep taking me back to the years c.1987 — 31 October 2007. That last is a very specific date because that was the day the Albury Hotel closed. The particular item on YouTube this time was an excellent video in terms of quality of one of the famous Albury drag shows, even if I rarely saw one right through as I usually went earlier, perhaps around 4 pm for the “cocktail hour” when I would chat with whatever friends were also there — PK, The Empress, Clive, Sirdan, Crane-driver Tony, ex-soldier Lloyd, Nurse Paul, Nurse Brown — lots of nurses as St Vincents Hospital was virtually next door. And many more over the years. Especially in late 1988 through to early 1990 I was living over the other side of Oxford Street in Rose Terrace, could hear the shows without leaving home! The Albury was like an alternative lounge room.
Or if I went at night it was generally to the Piano Bar…
Not so often to that main bar which tended at the height of the evening to be a bit crowded for my taste. But here is a sample of such a show, and that DJ is, I am fairly sure, Bruce Part, a lovely man and now a FB friend living in Queensland.
As I said, I preferred the Piano Bar.
The names there! Aside from Sylvana, I particularly patronised Adrienne Lamb and Hugh La Rue, real name Hugh Patrick O’Keefe, who has written a “tell-all memoir” — Palely Loitering; Growing up Gay in the 60s, 70s, 80s and Beyond. On Lost Gay Sydney in 2010 he wrote an extensive post about The Albury, taken from that memoir.
MY NIGHT WOULD start around eight o’clock with a warm-up of show tunes as background as the crowd drifted in. Then, with a few bods on stools around the piano – and a few white-wine-and-sodas under my belt, I’d take requests, of course, and indulge in some rather camp patter as well in between numbers. I could be a camp bitch at times (would you believe?) and I’d get as good back from some loud mouth in the crowd from time to time, always in good humour. But, as I was fond of pointing out, I had the microphone, so I always had the last word.
Except for one memorable occasion. It was a very busy Saturday night and there was a group of young people talking non-stop and ignoring the show. This was quite acceptable, of course – I didn’t demand any reverent silence – but they were sitting at the table closest to the piano and it was rather off-putting.
I decided to deal with them. “Let’s just stop and have a listen to this lot,” I said, “as they obviously have something important to say.” They were oblivious to my comments. I stopped playing and my listeners gradually fell silent until we could hear that they were discussing recent university exam results.
Very quickly they became aware that they were being targeted. They stopped talking. They assessed the situation. One of their number stood up and addressed me loudly:
“Well, you may think you’re clever and witty – but we’re young!”
With that they all stood up and swept out.
Even with the microphone, I had no answer to that one.
Then there was the lovely Adrienne Lamb, whom I had come to know from 1985 on at Beau’s Britannia Hotel of fond memory in Chippendale. She was an old stager from the best of Sydney jazz and cabaret and had an amazing repertoire. Make a request, no matter how obscure, and she could probably perform it.
But back to Sylvana. She can’t have been all that old when she passed. I gather she had been ill. Such sad news on the Facebook Group Lost Gay Sydney — RIP Sylvana Bonacci June 24th, 2021. RIP indeed, and thanks for all the wonderful nights — you, and all the others in the old Piano Bar. — from my 25th June 2021 post.
One evening I was seated at the piano. The man sitting beside me was rather familiar….
Yes, him! Former South Australia Premier Don Dunstan. I said something like: “Nice to meet you! Such a shame that all the really good politicians are either retired or dead!” He just smiled. Quite unpretentious, actually. A memorable moment for me. Especially given this:
You never knew who might turn up at The Albury in its heyday!
Neil's Commonplace Book 