Archive | Movie Stars in Scotland RSS feed for this section

Danny Kaye, Glasgow, 1949

18 Jan

Danny Kaye 1949No movie star enjoyed a welcome quite like the one accorded to Danny Kaye on his first visit to Glasgow, when he came to perform at the Empire Theatre June 1949. A record crowd of 10,000 people turned out to greet the flame-haired 36-year-old who was accompanied on his passage through Central Station by pipers while police stood shoulder-to-shoulder in front of crash barriers in an attempt to keep screaming teenage girls from rushing at the lanky star as he blew kisses to them and addressed them through a microphone.

No sooner was he safely inside the Central Hotel than Kaye climbed out on to a ledge on the second floor. He entertained the thousands packed into Hope Street with a little jig before sitting down, legs dangling over the side of the ledge, to thank them for their warm welcome. He then ran through to a back window, and repeated the performance for the benefit of the fans inside the station, telling them: “This is something I’ll never forget. If your golf courses are as easy as ours, I’ll move here for good.”

Kaye, it turned out, was golf-mad. Just hours before his sensational opening night at the Empire, he squeezed in a round at Douglas Park Golf Club in Bearsden, and the next day he visited John Letters where he was reported to have “come close to crooning a lullaby” to the driver of the new set of clubs he was buying. Three days later, he had the chance to give them a test run at Gleneagles.

Kaye interrupted that particular round, however, to read the now-historic report of the Californian State Un-American Activities Committee, quoted by Reuters, which named him as a communist sympathiser. “It sounds like a lot of hooey to me,” he commented.

But before going onstage that evening, he told a Bulletin reporter: “I’m very disturbed by the report. The whole thing is ridiculous. It’s getting so that everybody who voted for Roosevelt is a communist.”

Text (c) Alison Kerr

Photo (c) Herald and Times Group. To order a copy of this photo from The Herald’s photo sales website, click here.


Sinatra in Scotland: The First Time Around

21 May

Sinatra at Carnoustie, Dundee Courier, July 10He came, he crooned, he conquered. Not once, but twice. Frank Sinatra, whose centenary is being celebrated this year, didn’t just come to Scotland for that iconic Ibrox Stadium concert in 1990; he had already visited the country almost 40 years earlier – when he performed in Glasgow, Ayr and Dundee.

Whereas it was a living legend who held the Ibrox audience in his sway during the 1990 concert, the Sinatra who took to several Scottish stages in 1953 was at something of a low ebb in his career. The terrific popularity he had enjoyed during the 1940s when he was the gangly pin-up of the “bobby-soxers” had waned and his record sales had fallen off; his movie career was no longer anything to write home about and his scandalous affair with Ava Gardner, whom he divorced the mother of his children to marry, had dented his image and alienated many fans.

When Sinatra arrived in Scotland in July 1953, nobody could have anticipated that he was on the brink of the chapter during which his legend would be written. Indeed, 1953 would prove – ultimately – to be a very good year, career-wise, for the future Ol’ Blue Eyes. He arrived here having just joined Capitol Records, where he would go on to record the albums and hits which guaranteed him eternal mega-stardom, and having just filmed From Here to Eternity, the movie which would resurrect his film career, establish his serious acting abilities and earn him an Oscar.

Instead of being greeted by the thousands who had turned out to welcome such Evening Times listing for Sinatra, July 1953previous Empire Theatre headliners as Laurel & Hardy, Danny Kaye and Dorothy Lamour, Sinatra ran the gauntlet of just a small crowd of fans upon his arrival in Glasgow’s city centre just after noon on Monday July 6 1953. Who knows how different it might have been had he arrived by train into Central Station on the Sunday – as was the custom of most stars beginning a two-shows-a-night run at the Empire Theatre on the Monday? Certainly the absence of the scenes of near hysteria which had greeted previous visiting stars added to the impression that Sinatra was a has-been.

The truth is: Sinatra had been unable get to Glasgow sooner as he had been performing at the London Palladium the night before – so he flew up on the day of his first show, leaving Mrs Sinatra filming the MGM costume drama The Knights of the Round Table in the capital. By this point, two years into their ill-fated marriage, the cracks were already beginning to show – and, just three months later they announced their separation.

The subject of Ava Gardner doesn’t appear to have been up for discussion during a relaxed press reception in the lobby of the Central Hotel almost immediately upon Sinatra’s checking-in. Coming over as extremely affable andSinatra in Ayr ad, ET, July 1953 unaffected, the 39-year-old, who was referred to as “The Voice” and “Swoonatra” in the papers, lit his pipe and discussed his love of golf (his handicap was 24) and his plan to support Ben Hogan at the Open Golf Championship which was underway at Carnoustie. (He watched the fourth morning’s play later that week before returning to Glasgow for his early evening performance.)

He raved about some of the BBC television drama he had watched during his British visit thus far – and revealed that he was keen to produce or direct TV shows and movies. And in what now, with the benefit of the hindsight that this was the singer later regarded as the greatest of the 20th Century, sounds like a bombshell, Sinatra told the Evening Times that the “future of Frank”, as he saw it at that point, meant less and less singing and more and more light comedy.

Indeed, that night, in front of a packed first house at the Empire, the star – whose looks were described as “lean and Sinatra arrival, ET, July 6hungry” – revealed his comedy skills. He wisecracked about everyone from Ben Hogan to – intriguingly – Willie Waddell, the Rangers and Scotland footballer, whose inclusion in the act was probably a first-night exercise in Sinatra testing the waters about which subjects went down well in Glasgow.

The crowd howled with laughter in response to his “Old Man [Bing] Crosby” parody of Old Man River and his ad-libbing skills. Having sung the All of Me line “Take my arms”, he paused, and asked increduously: “Arms?!”

Of course it was his singing which drew squeals, yelps, whistles and roars from the full house. He brought gasps from the women in the audience with his prolonged notes, and the last few bars of every number were drowned in applause. And it wasn’t only the women who were dazzled by “The Voice”. Hugh Napier of Helensburgh recalls “the magic” of Sinatra at the Empire. He says: “We knew we were experiencing greatness. It was wonderful. His phrasing was immaculate and the way he put over the number in sympathy with the words was spell-binding.”

Concentrating on songs from earlier in his career (“There have been no songs written in the past six months which are conducive to me,” he explained), Sinatra sang for an hour, accompanied onstage by his pianist Bill Miller, and with Billy Ternent’s Orchestra in the pit. Among the numbers were a show-stopping version of Old Man River, September Song, Nancy With the Laughing Face, Birth of the Blues and Embraceable You.

And, taking a page out of Danny Kaye’s book, he endeared himself to the crowd by taking a tea-break, just behind the footlights. “It gives me a rest,” the down-to-earth crooner explained.

Indeed, being down-to-earth was one of the most striking characteristics of the Frank Sinatra who came to Glasgow that summer. So unaffected was he that he didn’t wear any stage make-up and strolled onstage wearing the suit he had left his hotel room in.

Writing in 1990 about his 1953 encounters with Sinatra, the Glasgow Herald’s entertainments editor Andy Young said: “He never used his dressing room at all at the Empire. The same towel hung unused all week. A limo would drop him at the theatre a few minutes before each show. He would walk straight in off the street onto the stage, without a sign of the screaming, hysterical, fainting bobby-soxers who had mobbed him everywhere he went” just a few years before.

The 1953 Sinatra was also extremely approachable; he even did the approaching in one notable instance cited by Andy Young. “One night I was standing at the Empire stage door when a woman, unused to the theatre, was trying to buy tickets there. Suddenly, this quiet, friendly American voice came from over her shoulder. ‘I’ll show where to get them,Sinatra at Caird Hall advert ma’m.’ Yes, it was Sinatra and he took her out onto the pavement in West Nile Street and directed her round the corner to Sauchiehall Street, where the box-office was located.”

It wasn’t full houses throughout the week, unfortunately, and the audience numbers worsened dramatically when Sinatra gave concerts (as opposed to appearing as the headliner on a variety bill as he had done at the Empire) in Ayr and Dundee for Glasgow impresario Chalmers Wood. At Green’s Playhouse in Ayr on Sunday 12, the 3pm show only attracted 500 audience members, but the 3000-seater hall looked to be well-filled in the evening. At Dundee’s cavernous Caird Hall, on Monday 13, it was a similar story, with 586 seats – out of over 3000 – taken in the first house, and 1200 in the second.

At the Caird Hall – where the Scottish National Jazz Orchestra and Kurt Elling bring their Sinatra celebration this month –  he made a virtue of the compact size of the audience which was scattered throughout the stalls and gallery during the first show, and invited punters to move down to the expensive seats. “Don’t worry about the fellow who runs this place,” he said. Let’s be one big, happy family.” And once the musical chairs round was over, he added: “There now, that’s cosier.”

Stories of Sinatra being pelted with coins during his Scottish tour are as fanciful as the urban myth that Ava Gardner

Sinatra signed the Caird Hall visitors' book on the 1933 page!

Sinatra signed the Caird Hall visitors’ book on the 1933 page!

was waiting for him in his Dundee hotel after the Caird Hall concert. (In fact, he was driven back to Glasgow from where he flew to London the next morning.) Audiences gave him warm welcomes, and he sang their praises afterwards – though who knows what was said in private?

The only public indication he gave of disappointment in audience numbers was his cutting short the afternoon show in Ayr. A letter to the Dundee Courier a few days after his Dundee debacle sheds some light on why the concerts weren’t better attended.

“Whoever arranged Frank Sinatra’s concert must have been optimistic regarding his fans’ finances,” wrote Catriona of Dundee. “Teenagers form the largest part of his following, with the result that they just couldn’t afford the Caird Hall prices. A popular all-over price would have filled the hall easily with young people.”

Of course, ticket sales wouldn’t have been an issue had he returned to Scotland at any point in the four decades before he finally did .. But maybe there just wasn’t a golf tournament he wanted to attend …

* Sinatra’s centenary is being celebrated in Scotland throughout the summer, starting with a  tour by Kurt Elling and the Scottish National Jazz Orchestra ( from May 21; Frank Sinatra Jr plays the Glasgow Royal Concert Hall on June 28; Todd Gordon/Sinatra:100 Years is at the Assembly Rooms, Edinburgh from August 6-30 (, and the BBC Big Band Sinatra Centenary Concert (with Curtis Stigers, Jacqui Dankworth & Todd Gordon) at the Festival Theatre on July 17 as part of the Edinburgh Jazz Festival.

* First published in The Herald on Saturday, May 9th

Roy Rogers & Trigger, Glasgow, 1954

13 Feb


Roy Rogers & Trigger at Central Station, Glasgow, February 14, 1954 (c) Herald & Times Group

The arrival of singing cowboy Roy Rogers and his trusty “four-legged friend”, Trigger, at Central Station on a cold Sunday in 1954 is the stuff of local legend, and a whole generation of wee boys remember the excitement of seeing their heroes in the flesh.

 Children had begun assembling outside the Central Hotel from as early as 5am, and, at around 1pm, Rogers and his cowgirl wife Dale Evans pulled up in a red sports car and entered the station where thousands had been expecting them off a train. Crush barriers and police struggled to contain the excited youngsters, many of whom were kitted out in cowboy gear. Like a Pied Piper, Rogers was followed by many of them as he made his way to the Empire Theatre – where he would be performing in a week’s worth of sold-out shows – and then back to the hotel.

The greatest excitement, however, came when Trigger arrived at around 6pm. Rogers, in his white cowboy suit and silver pointed shoes, led the world’s most famous horse round the crush barriers. To thunderous cheers, Trigger bowed for the thrilled youngsters – despite being jet-lagged after his long flight from the States earlier in the day and despite having already met 3000 members of his public at Prestwick Airport.

A seasoned celebrity, Trigger performed beautifully for the assembled cameras, “signing” in at reception (he had a pen in his mouth), prancing up the hotel’s grand staircase (two steps at a time) and trotting along the second floor corridor to “his” room, number 130. After having his mane combed, the horse star showed off a few of his 100 tricks. He bowed on one knee, nodded “yes” then “no”, yawned heartily and kissed Mrs Rogers.

Tarpaulin covered the floor of room 130 – which was otherwise appropriately decked out for Hollywood royalty, with a pile of plumped-up pillows, a gold eiderdown and a bowl of roses. After his personal appearance and photo call, Trigger left the hotel to “sign in” at another establishment – the British Rail Stables on Parliamentary Road, where, his young fans were assured, he was the guest of some friendly Clydesdales.

(c) Alison Kerr, 2012

To order a copy of the photo from the Herald Scotland’ s photo sales website, click here

James Stewart, Kincardineshire, 1959

20 May
James Stewart

James Stewart, Kincardineshire, Wednesday October 28, 1959 (c) Herald & Times Group

It’s a miracle this photograph of James Stewart exists, given that he came to Scotland for five days in the autumn of 1959 with no fanfare or fuss – only a passing mention in the Daily Record at the start of that week. Accompanied by a picture of him with his wife Gloria in London, the item quoted the 51-year-old star of such all-time-great movies as It’s a Wonderful Life as saying: “I don’t know anybody in Scotland. I’ll be staying in Stonehaven, Kincardineshire, just relaxing and shooting.”

At the time of his visit, Stewart had most recently been seen on Scottish screens in the masterful psychological thriller Vertigo, the last in a run of films he made with Alfred Hitchcock in the 1950s. His latest film was Anatomy of a Murder, the Otto Preminger-directed courtroom drama which had been causing an unprecedented amount of controversy back home in the States, since it dealt quite explicitly with the subject of rape.

Like the character he played in Anatomy of a Murder, Stewart was very much the outdoors type who liked to escape to the countryside to relax. It’s probable that his Scottish sejour was the antidote to the media hoopla that followed the new film as it opened around the world through the second half of 1959.

The Bulletin caption for this photo simply reported that Stewart had thoroughly enjoyed a day’s pheasant shooting on the moors of Kincardineshire. Later he said: “We bagged three or four. I confess we saw plenty which are still flying.”

(c) Alison Kerr (2013). This photo, along with 15 others, can currently be seen in the Stars in Scotland exhibition at the Dunoon Film Festival.

Marlene Dietrich, Glasgow, 1966

4 Apr
City of Stars 1 - Marlene Dietrich with child

Marlene Dietrich, Glasgow Airport, Monday November 7 1966 (c) Herald & Times Group

Little did Marlene Dietrich know, when she stepped off the plane for her first visit to the city of stars, that by the end of her stay she would be stepping on to the top of her limo and proclaiming “I belong to Glasgow!”.

She was met at Glasgow Airport by dozens of reporters who tried to solve the mystery of her age. Asked why she looked so terribly young, the witty 65-year-old superstar simply said: “But I’m not so terribly old.”

Also waiting for Dietrich on the tarmac was seven-year-old Iain Robertson, the son of John Robertson, assistant manager at the Alhambra Theatre where the star was appearing in her one-woman show that night. She was delighted with the tartan doll given to her by the youngster, but dismissed the suggestion that she might include some Scots songs in her programme. “The Scots sing their own songs much better than I,” she smiled.

Dietrich clearly didn’t need to resort to trading on the tartan in order to win over her audience that night. She swept onstage in white fur and simply seduced the 2000-strong Alhambra crowd with her charisma and presence – and the beguiling way she sang the 22 songs that made up the 90-minute show.

The Evening Times reviewer said: “She needs no props, no artifice. She looks round the theatre with almost savage disdain as if to say ‘I’m Dietrich, who are you?’.” Accompanied by a 20-piece London orchestra, she sang many familiar, signature, songs from her long career – among them Lili Marlene, See What the Boys in the Back Room Will Have and Falling in Love Again. Her performance of the folk song Where Have All the Flowers Gone hushed the spellbound audience.

By the end, she had earned a standing ovation and the stage was strewn with red roses thrown from the audience. At the stage door, more than 100 people waited in pouring rain to catch a glimpse of the star, and she made a point of signing autographs before climbing on top of the car and declaring her love for Glasgow – and Scotland. Cops tried to break up the ever-growing crowd, but Dietrich refused to budge and chatted on to her fans, triggering cheers from Post Office workers assembled on the roof of their building.

(c) Alison Kerr, 2012. To purchase this photo, visit

Sir Harry Lauder, Mary Gordon & Irving Berlin, Glasgow, 1946

12 Mar
City of Stars - Irving Berlin etc

Sir Harry Lauder, Mary Gordon & Irving Berlin, Green’s Playhouse, 126 Renfield Street, Monday September 9, 1946 (c) Herald & Times Group

Irving Berlin, arguably the popular – and certainly the most prolific – of all the American songwriters, came to Glasgow in September 1946 to attend the “trade show” of Blue Skies, a lavish musical featuring a string of his songs and starring Fred Astaire.

The visit by 54-year-old composer and lyricist – whose career stretched back to before the First World War and whose hits included White Christmas, Alexander’s Ragtime Band, Cheek to Cheek, Puttin’ On the Ritz, God Bless America and How Deep is the Ocean – didn’t attract the amount of press attention one might have expected.

Instead, the Glasgow papers focused on the return to the city, after 27 years, of Bridgeton-born Mary Gordon, the Hollywood character actress who was best known as the housekeeper Mrs Hudson in the popular Sherlock Holmes movies (which starred Basil Rathbone) and Mrs M’Guinness in the Bowery Boys films.

Irving Berlin and Mary Gordon were joined by Gordon’s old chum, Sir Harry Lauder, for the the prestigious screening of Blue Skies at Green’s Playhouse and the reception which was held afterwards at the Central Hotel, where Berlin was staying for his one-night visit.

(c) Alison Kerr, 2012. To purchase this photograph, visit

Dean Martin & Jerry Lewis, Glasgow, 1953

12 Mar
City of Stars - Martin & Lewis image

Dean Martin & Jerry Lewis, Empire Theatre, 31-35 Sauchiehall Street, Monday June 15, 1953 (c) Herald & Times Group

Crooner Dean Martin and comedian Jerry Lewis – stars of radio and such Hollywood hits as The Caddy – were the highest-paid act in show business when they made their European debut in Glasgow, in 1953. But they were in a serious frame of mind when they were photographed just before their big opening night.

Why? Because, having turned up 35 minutes late for their appointment at the City Chambers with Glasgow’s Lord Provost, Mr TA Kerr, they had been turned away – and council officials had branded their behaviour “a grave discourtesy”.

Martin later explained this near-international incident to the Evening Times: “We were just about to leave our hotel room for our appointment when a phone call we had been expecting from our studio in California came through. The call concerned details of our next picture but we tried to rush it through as quickly as possible. Even so, we were half an hour behind time at the City Chambers.

“Jerry and I are both disappointed we let the Lord Provost down and we are writing him a letter expressing our sincere regret at the incident.”

The Evening Times report pointed out that Mr Kerr “last year cancelled an appointment with the Iowa Girls Pipe Band when they visited the city and turned up an hour late”.

Still, Kerr’s loss was the Martin-Lewis fans’ gain – scores of autographs were signed outside the City Chambers for screaming “bobby-soxers”, many of whom had spent the previous evening chanting “We want Dean and Jerry” outside the Central Hotel where the duo had crashed out after a day’s golfing at Turnberry.

Their opening night was a sensation, with reviewers raving about the laughs provided by squeaky-voiced, crew-cutted Lewis and the songs coolly sung by his laid-back straight-man Martin.

(c) Alison Kerr, 2012. To purchase this photograph, visit

Judy Garland, Glasgow, 1951

22 Feb
Judy Garland

Judy Garland, barefoot in Balmain at the Empire Theatre, Glasgow, May 21 1951 (c) Herald & Times Group

Halfway through her first night at the Glasgow Empire, a very nervous Judy Garland complained that her feet were sore and asked the audience if she could take off her shoes. Like a little girl, she sat down on the stage and anxiously twiddled her stockinged feet as she sang.

The 28-year-old star had already endeared herself to the packed house, having introduced herself as “only a minstrel girl” and opened the show with a “specially written” song about sporrans. During her 40-minute performance she sang many old favourites, among them You Made Me Love You, The Trolley Song, Just One of Those Things and Get Happy, for which she sported a soft hat – as she had done in the movie Summer Stock.

Her “extreme nervousness” was noted by critics who noted that perspiration poured down her face as she walked off stage. Although she was fresh from a hugely successful four-week stint at the London Palladium, Garland was not a seasoned live performer – and, at a press conference the day before her Glasgow debut, she confessed to reporters: “Gee, I feel as nervous as a kitten. I hope I do well.”

As she was grilled by the local press over subjects ranging from her favourite co-star (Gene Kelly) to her favourite song to sing (Rock-a-Bye – “it’s the loudest), the former child star sipped whisky and smoked long-tipped cigarettes. But it was her eating habits which fascinated the reporters. She ate one chocolate, a few potato crisps and a cheese straw and said: “Maybe today I can forget about the diet.”

Her “plumpness” was commented on in every review written about her opening night, but she carried off her brand new Balmain gown (bought days earlier, in Paris) beautifully and she had the audience – which sang along on Easter Parade and Over the Rainbow – in the palm of her hand.

When she left Glasgow five days later, Garland – who had recently been fired by MGM and was newly divorced from her second husband – was given a huge send-off. Traffic stopped on West Nile Street and a crowd of 500 cheered for her – so much so that, after waving to her fans from a window in the theatre, she had to be sneaked out of an emergency exit.

“They’re just too wonderful,” she said. “They’ve restored my faith in people. Now I know why other people always want to come back to Glasgow.”

(c) Alison Kerr, 2012

Katharine Hepburn, Glasgow, 1952

13 Feb

Katharine Hepburn at the King’s Theatre, Glasgow, on May 26 1952 (c) Herald & Times Group

Before she posed for this picture, after what critics described as her “brilliant” performance in George Bernard Shaw’s The Millionairess, Katharine Hepburn had been drawing comparisons to Greta Garbo. Why? Because she had succeeded in avoiding photographers, and had refused to talk to the press.

The 45-year-old movie star had arrived in Glasgow from Edinburgh where she had made her British stage debut in the same play a few days earlier, and had hurried straight to her room in the Central Hotel, telling the receptionist that she was not to be disturbed under any circumstances. Reporters who called by, expecting the usual pre-performance interview, were told that she probably wouldn’t emerge until half-an-hour before curtain-up, and that “she would be taking her meals in her rooms”.

Strict instructions had also been issued to the theatre staff. “I do not want stage hands on the stage while I am acting. The stage must be cleared while I am on it,” said Hepburn, whose most recently released film in Scotland had been The African Queen.

The day after her triumphant Glasgow opening night, which not only wowed critics but also the fashion-conscious ladies in the audience who gasped at the Balmain-designed gowns, Hepburn granted an audience to the press. Wearing a yellow dustcoat, regularly brushing the back of her hair up with her hand (a familiar Hepburn gesture), and flouting the no-smoking-on-stage sign just behind her, she explained why she preferred to be alone during the run of the play. “I need all the rest I can get. I am told that the part I am playing is one of the longest ever written for an actress. It’s an endurance test.”

Between her stints in Edinburgh and the Glasgow, she had spent the weekend driving round the countryside, and shopping for “curios”. Her verdict on the natives? “The people are fascinating, but I could not understand what many of them were saying. Of course, many of them would not understand what Katharine Hepburn was saying either.”

(c) Alison Kerr, 2012

Gene Kelly, Glasgow, 1953

13 Feb

Gene Kelly, Gordon Street, Glasgow, April 21 1953 (c) Herald & Times Group

Gene Kelly may have been at the peak of his fame and popularity in 1953, but when he stepped out of Glasgow’s Central Hotel and into the morning sunshine on Gordon Street in his tweed coat and bunnet, he went virtually unnoticed by passers-by.

The 40-year-old Singing in the Rain star had motored up overnight from London with the celebrated MGM producer Arthur Freed for a brief visit to Scotland. After a quick chat with Evening Times film critic Tom Goldie, the Americans set off for a tour of Burns country and the Trossachs to soak up the atmosphere and seek out inspiration for their next collaboration – a movie version of the Lerner and Loewe musical Brigadoon, a fantasy set in Scotland.

Following their reccie, Kelly said: “I had looked forward to making Brigadoon in Scotland. Now that I’ve seen even a little bit of your country I’m sorrier than ever that plans have had to be changed. But a picture like this has to be made in the new big-screen Cinemascope system that gives an impression of depth, and it has to be done in Hollywood.”

He did at least promise that backgrounds would be photographed in Scotland – and that they had been sussing out ideas for these during their trip which would continue with a visit to Edinburgh and a tour of the Highlands.

And for entertainment on his night on the town in Glasgow? Dance-mad Kelly went to the Theatre Royal, where he parked his bunnet in a box, to see the Celtic Ballet featuring Andrew Rolla, who danced the principal part in the touring stage production of Brigadoon. Promising to return during the summer, Kelly said: “You know, this Scotland of yours is quite the loveliest country I’ve seen. This is my first visit – but,” he added with a wink, “it won’t be my last.”

(c) Alison Kerr, 2012

%d bloggers like this: