Dear Rowan

Dear Rowan

By Jay RickardArtsPerforming Arts
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Dear Rowan episodes

  • My Favorite Comfort Film

    When backed into a corner by a weapon yielding assassin who orders you to choose one singular film as your all time favorite comfort film; as one does, what is your answer? Make an assessment. Here's mine.

    Love,

    Papa

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    7 min
  • Poetry Reading: The Mermaid by Alfred Lord Tennyson
    The Mermaid

    by Alfred Lord Tennyson

    I.

    Who would be

    A mermaid fair,
    Singing alone,
    Combing her hair
    Under the sea,
    In a golden curl
    With a comb of pearl,
    On a throne?

    II.

    I would be a mermaid fair;

    I would sing to myself the whole of the day;
    With a comb of pearl I would comb my hair;
    And still as I comb'd I would sing and say,
    Who is it loves me? who loves not me?
    I would comb my hair till my ringlets would fall
    Low adown, low adown,
    From under my starry sea-bud crown
    Low adown and around,
    And I should look like a fountain of gold
    Springing alone
    With a shrill inner sound,
    Over the throne
    In the midst of the hall;
    Till that great sea-snake under the sea
    From his coiled sleeps in the central deeps
    Would slowly trail himself sevenfold
    Round the hall where I sate, and look in at the gate
    With his large calm eyes for the love of me.
    And all the mermen under the sea
    Would feel their immortality
    Die in their hearts for the love of me.

    III.

    But at night I would wander away, away,

    I would fling on each side my low-flowing locks,
    And lightly vault from the throne and play
    With the mermen in and out of the rocks;
    We would run to and fro, and hide and seek,
    On the broad sea-wolds in the crimson shells,
    Whose silvery spikes are nighest the sea.
    But if any came near I would call, and shriek,
    And adown the steep like a wave I would leap
    From the diamond-ledges that jut from the dells;
    For I would not be kiss'd by all who would list,
    Of the bold merry mermen under the sea;
    They would sue me, and woo me, and flatter me,
    In the purple twilights under the sea;
    But the king of them all would carry me,
    Woo me, and win me, and marry me,
    In the branching jaspers under the sea;
    Then all the dry pied things that be
    In the hueless mosses under the sea
    Would curl round my silver feet silently,
    All looking up for the love of me.
    And if I should carol aloud, from aloft
    All things that are forked, and horned, and soft
    Would lean out from the hollow sphere of the sea,
    All looking down for the love of me.

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    4 min
  • Poetry Reading: The Water Nymph and the Boy

    The Water-Nymph and the Boy

    by Roden Berkeley Wriothesley Noel

    I flung me round him,

    I drew him under;
    I clung, I drown’d him,
    My own white wonder! . . .

    Father and mother,

    Weeping and wild,
    Came to the forest,
    Calling the child,
    Came from the palace,
    Down to the pool,
    Calling my darling,
    My beautiful!
    Under the water,
    Cold and so pale!
    Could it be love made
    Beauty to fail?

    Ah me for mortals!

    In a few moons,
    If I had left him,
    After some Junes
    He would have faded,
    Faded away,
    He, the young monarch, whom
    All would obey,
    Fairer than day;
    Alien to springtime,
    Joyless and gray,
    He would have faded,
    Faded away,
    Moving a mockery,
    Scorn’d of the day!
    Now I have taken him
    All in his prime,
    Saved from slow poisoning
    Pitiless Time,
    Fill’d with his happiness,
    One with the prime,
    Saved from the cruel
    Dishonour of Time.
    Laid him, my beautiful,
    Laid him to rest,
    Loving, adorable,
    Softly to rest,
    Here in my crystalline,
    Here in my breast!

    WJE

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    4 min
  • Poetry Reading: The Witch by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

    The Witch

    Mary Elizabeth Coleridge (1893)

    I have walked a great while over the snow,

    And I am not tall nor strong.
    My clothes are wet, and my teeth are set,
    And the way was hard and long.
    I have wandered over the fruitful earth,
    But I never came here before.
    Oh, lift me over the threshold, and let me in at the door!

    The cutting wind is a cruel foe.

    I dare not stand in the blast.
    My hands are stone, and my voice a groan,
    And the worst of death is past.
    I am but a little maiden still,
    My little white feet are sore.
    Oh, lift me over the threshold, and let me in at the door!

    Her voice was the voice that women have,

    Who plead for their heart’s desire.
    She came—she came—and the quivering flame
    Sunk and died in the fire.
    It never was lit again on my hearth
    Since I hurried across the floor,
    To lift her over the threshold, and let her in at the door.

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    3 min
  • Dear Rowan - A Very Portman Halloween

    It's Halloween season so here goes a tale of true crime for which there was a 1935 film titled "Murder in the Red Barn" which was one of Eric Portman's first film roles. Also in this episode are lyrics by Tom Waits of a song by the same title as the film, but released on 1992. 

    Happy Halloween!

    Papa

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    11 min
  • What IS Dear Rowan?

    What is this guy rambling on about? Do we really need another podcast cluttering up the internet? Probably not. ... and yet...

    Just a tiny blurb on what to expect and why I started this podcast. 

    Papa

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    2 min
  • Eric Portman - Morwell Advertiser 1942

    I've been digging deep for Ericcentric ephemera. Wow he's a difficult guy to track down, especially so many decades after his illustrious career was in full swing. It's nearly 100 years since he made his stage debut! 

    Pick up a copy of "Our Eric" by Andy Owens. It's a great bio and the only one written on Mr. Portman.

    This article was a blurb in a little publication known as The Morwell Advertiser in Morwell, Victoria Australia. The mention in the article that the 49th Parallel was his screen debut. It wasn't. But it was arguably his largest and most popular of his films. The 49th Parallel was basically written as a propaganda piece for the war effort. Some of the most in-demand talents of the day appeared in the film and took sizable pay cuts in order to get the film produced. Actors from Europe, Canada and Europe teamed up to rally against the Nazi Party. It's a passionate film with excellent performances and wonderful monologues. One given by Eric himself.


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    4 min
  • Dear Rowan - Eric Portman Playbill Bio

    More from the ephemera files. Eric's June 1st, 1959 bio from Playbill. "Touch of the Poet" was the production and one Miss Cloris Leachman also starred along with Helen Hayes.

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    4 min

About Dear Rowan

From the publisher's feed

Hollywood History in the form of audio journal entries written to my newborn daughter to be combined in a time capsule for her later enjoyment. I invite you to follow along as I dig into some of the…