Passers-by may have noticed this beautiful piece of furniture in a basement on Mansfield Place, but comparatively few will know the bitter-sweet story behind its appearance.
The piece is in fact a memorial bench, donated by her family to the memory of Annie Garven who died in 2011.
Annie Garven was, reads L&P's newsletter, ‘unique in so many ways [...] the only woman in the Tenors and [...] much loved by her pals in that section. She was the lead organiser for the choir’s trip to Paris in 2011 and an accomplished traveller and polyglot’.
Edinburgh playwright Jo Clifford’s touching memory of her – ‘Passionate and kind, a hugely intelligent individual it was always a pleasure to be with’ – can be found here in her online diary.
A Memorial Award, again donated by her family, now helps subsidise choir members on trips to sing abroad.
The bench – a collaboration in oak between woodcarvers Roger Hall and Graeme Murray – was installed on World Aids Day last year (1 December 2012).
*****
Fiere Good Nicht
(after Gussie Lord Davis)
When you’ve had your last one for the road,
a Linkwood, a Talisker, a Macallan,
And you’ve finished your short story,
and played one more time Nacht und Traüme,
with Roland Hayes singing sweetly;
and pictured yourself on the road,
the one that stretches to infinity,
and said good night to your dead,
and fathomed the links in the long day –
then it’s time to say Goodnight fiere,
and lay your highland head on your feather pillow,
far away – in England, Canada, New Zealand –
and coorie in, coorie in, coorie in.
The good dreams are drifting quietly doon,
like a figmaleerie, my fiere, my dearie,
and you’ll sleep as soond as a peerie,
and turn, turn slowly towards the licht:
goodnight fiere, fiere, Good Nicht.
Jackie Kay
[published by Picador in the collection Fiere, ISBN 9780330513371]