Listening to the soundtrack of the motion picture Out of Africa has inspired several seemingly unrelated thoughts. Not the least of those thoughts are naturally those surrounding John Barry’s music. Like most composers (or for that matter, artists of whatever description) Barry’s vast work is nonetheless recognizable for its distinctive similarities. Though many of his compositions involve a British theme there is as well an inescapable American hallmark. I recall having seen the first James Bond movie in Toronto in 1963 when I was fourteen years old while in Fourth Form at St. Andrew’s College. My roommate Keith Forsythe and I visited his parents for Thanksgiving and took the opportunity to attend a movie theatre in a local mall. Seeing Dr. No was at the time the height of novelty. Several years later in Paris, France on the Champs Élysées with another of my boarding school colleagues Ricardo Schmeichler, he and I attended the opening of Born Free for which Barry also wrote the headline music. And who can forget Goldfinger!
Out of Africa is a 1985 American epic romantic drama film directed and produced by Sydney Pollack, and starring Meryl Streep and Robert Redford. The film is based loosely on the 1937 autobiographical book Out of Africa written by Isak Dinesen (the pseudonym of Danish author Karen Blixen), with additional material from Dinesen’s 1960 book Shadows on the Grass and other sources.
John Barry Prendergast OBE (North Yorkshire, England) composed the scores for eleven of the James Bond films between 1963 and 1987, as well as arranging and performing the “James Bond Theme” for the first film in the series, 1962’s Dr. No. He wrote the Grammy- and Academy Award-winning scores to the films Dances with Wolves (1990) and Out of Africa (1985), as well as the scores of The Scarlet Letter (1995), Chaplin (1992), The Cotton Club (1984), Game of Death (1972), The Tamarind Seed (1974), Mary, Queen of Scots (1971) and the theme for the television series The Persuaders!, in a career spanning over 50 years. In 1999, he was appointed with an OBE for services to music. Barry was married four times and had four children. He moved to the United States in 1975 and lived there until his death in 2011.
Coincidentally last evening I had occasion to chat at some length with Fiona St. Clair whom I have known since about 1968. Yesterday was her birthday. As you might imagine, we delved into a long history of events covering the past 56 years and the people whom we have known. For whatever reason (perhaps because of some idle recollection of Fiona’s past in Africa) she shared with me her hopes of taking her grandchildren on safari in Africa. Fiona is a professional travel agent so I have no doubt that the adventure would be of the first order. The only limitation is age. Fiona wants the children to be old enough to recall the enterprise (an imperative likely prompted by our own recognition of its importance in our old age). Indeed I recall having said to Fiona that lately I have been preoccupied with the text of my memories, not for the purpose of trying to relive the past rather merely to elucidate the adventures (perhaps as a means of expressing hitherto unexpressed gratitude for what parents and others enabled or provided).
From this lofty height of reminiscence – the James Bond châlet atop a mountain in the Swiss Alps and the glamour of being conducted to a movie opening on the Champs Élysées by a prostitute (another story for another day) – I have by contrast also embraced this afternoon the indisputable delight of commonality and domesticity. The Midnight Cowboy theme was somehow apt. My indescribable partner Denis today organized a so-called simple luncheon. Normally we eat only breakfast and dinner. But today we had to interrupt our routine by estranging ourselves from the apartment to avoid getting in the way of our housekeeper.
Our purposeless evacuation this morning began with an amble into the Renfrew County hinterland where we chanced to travel along a road neither of us had ever seen before. Out of Waba we extended directly along Kippen Road to Deerfield Drive (NO EXIT) which skirts a tributary from Calabogie Lake to the Stewartville Generating Station in McNab/Braeside “marking its 75th anniversary of producing clean power on the Madawaska River”.
Upon rejoining our opening tracks (and of course getting the car washed), Denis collected fodder at the Almonte Butcher for what was an unanticipated but thoroughly pleasant mid-afternoon luncheon. I chose the occasion to regain my affection for caffeine. And Barry’s music. And reminiscences of the past.