Between August 1981 and January 1982 and again in November 1984, a small group of senior members of the University met on eight occasions to reminisce about their time at Reading.
The bulk of these discussions took place between Johnny Johnson, the Registrar and Tommy Sibly, Sub-Dean of the Faculty of Science. Other contributors were Keith Hodgson, Senior Administrative Assistant in the Registrar’s Office, and Professor ‘Perce’ Allen from Geology.
Most meetings took place in the Registrar’s office where they were recorded on reel-to-reel tape recorders, transcribed and published in a bound volume, probably in 1984.
Although there is some structure to the collection, being organised under headings such as ‘people’, ‘events’ and ‘changes’, the term ‘random’ in the title is entirely appropriate. The content consists of anecdotes, hearsay, personal opinions, who was living with whom, humorous slants on colleagues, and the like. There is much gossip, some of which seems rather malicious, and sometimes one has to be wary of what to treat as a true account.
Inside the front cover is a letter from Professor Cyril Tyler (Deputy Vice-Chancellor 1968-76) in which he states:
‘I have read the “Random Recollections …” and find them too biased to be valuable as a contribution to University history.’
He was particularly uneasy about subjective judgements concerning those colleagues selected for praise and those who were omitted. Attached to the letter is a three-page list of corrections and comments.
Nevertheless, the reminiscences are interesting, often amusing, and sometimes shocking even in consideration of the culture of the time. In spite of Professor Tyler’s reservations, the core of much of the content can be verified from other sources such as Professor Holt’s history of the University, archive material in the University’s Special Collections and autobiographies of some of the personalities mentioned. Nevertheless, no doubt some details have been embellished or exaggerated in the telling.
It is worth noting that Tommy Sibly was the son of Sir Franklin Sibly, Vice-Chancellor from 1929 to 1946, and so able to give the inside story on people and events that concerned his father.
One narrative that amusingly delves well behind the scene of the official record is the story of how an honorary degree was awarded to the artist Walter Sickert.
Walter Richard Sickert(1860-1942)
By the 1930s Sickert was already regarded as one of the most prominent artists in the UK; according to Virginia Woolf writing in the 1930s, he had ‘no illusions about his own greatness’ ( Robins, 2000, p. xxvii). In 1938 he was awarded an honorary DLitt by Reading University, the result of a close friendship with James Anthony Betts (1897-1980), Head of the Fine Art Department at Reading. On his appointment in 1933, Betts breathed new life into the department, prioritised the role of drawing, and both he and his department were heavily influenced by Sickert’s work.
Betts continue to lead Fine Art for another 30 years and during the 1950s put together an impressive collection of drawings that included 18 works by Sickert. These were bought by the University from the Betts family in 1994, and in 2002 the Sickert drawings were conserved, funded by a donation from Patricia Cornwell, the bestselling American thriller writer.
The Ceremony
The official account of Sickert’s Degree honoris causa, published in the Reading University Gazette reports that he was awarded his degree on 20 June 1938 alongside, among others, The Right Honourable Neville Chamberlain the then British Prime Minister.
The Deputy Vice-Chancellor, Professor Frank Stenton, presented each honorary graduand to the congregation with a short speech:
‘Mr. Chancellor, The work of RICHARD SICKERT cuts across all the usual categories of artistic discussion. In regard to him, the familiar distinction between traditionalism and modernity is meaningless; and artists who belong to the most widely divergent of schools are agreed in acknowledging the greatness of his achievement … In the international world of art he is acknowledged everywhere; examples of his work will be found in every gallery which truly represents the history of modern painting, and younger men in every continent have responded to the force of his example …’ (p. 48).
The Unofficial account
The above eulogy, no doubt put together by Professor Betts, makes no mention of Sickert’s eccentricities. The version constructed by Johnny Johnson and Tommy Sibly, on the other hand, takes delight in recounting his outrageous behaviour.
It seems that there was a tradition for the University to treat honorary graduands to a slap-up lunch in Wantage Hall with nothing spared. June 20, 1938 was no exception:
‘J[ohnson]. … Well, Sickert turned up at Wantage Hall dressed in a tweed jacket, grey flannels and carpet slippers, which was not quite the thing; nevertheless Sickert was Sickert and during the lunch he proceeded to get absolutely plastered, there’s no question about it. Halfway through the lunch … he spotted Sir Hugh Allen [a fellow honorary graduand], who was Director of Music [at Reading] at the time, right at the other end of the hall, but he persisted in having a conversation with Hugh Allen throughout the lunch. I’m told that at one stage, presumably towards the end of the lunch, they burst into song as they were old friends … So by the end of the lunch Sickert was really drunk, and everybody was getting a bit worried about what to do with him.’ (p. 151).
Fortunately, there was a hiccup in the arrangement for taxis to take participants from Wantage Hall down to the Great Hall on London Road. This gave Anthony Betts and John Waldie, lecturer in Agricultural Botany and the new Warden of Wantage, enough time to take Sickert into the Warden’s lodge, fill him with as much black coffee as he could take and put him into the last taxi.
By the time Sickert reached the hall, he was behaving himself until it was his turn to be admitted:
‘… it was fairly apparent that as he was standing up on the platform he was also swaying gently all through the speech! Then the real payoff came … as he leaned across the mace to shake hands with Lord Templewood [then Samuel Hoare the University’s Chancellor] he just breathed into the microphone, “Bloody good lunch, wasn’t it?” (p.152).
At this point, Tommy Sibly takes up the story of the aftermath. Somehow they got Sickert to Reading Station:
‘… it was going to be very difficult getting him through the subway and up the steps the other side, so they got the luggage lift. I think it was while they were actually in the lift, or it might have been after they had got up to the top, Sickert suddenly said, “Oh Betts, I haven’t said goodbye to your wife” …. He had to be taken back to the luggage lift, and had to go up to Betts’ house and see Mrs Betts before he was finally dispatched. (p. 152).
Caveat
It’s a good story! But let’s not forget that the event took place in 1938, some 43 years before Tommy Sibly and Johnny Johnson made their recording. Neither was present at the time; Johnson’s sources were John Waldie of Wantage Hall and Anthony Betts himself. The only doubt Johnson expressed about the veracity of the tale was to do with Sickert and Sir Hugh Allen Bursting into song. However, Sibly insisted that he had heard the same from his father.
So, at least the essence of the story appears to be true. Whether the same applies to all the details is another matter.
Sources
Betts’ Family Archive.
Holt, J. C. (1977). The University of Reading: the first fifty years. Reading: University of Reading Press.
Johnson, J. F. & Sibly, T. C. F. (c1984). Random Recollections of the University of Reading. Reading: University of Reading.
Lebens, N. (Ed.). (2021). Rubens to Sickert: the study of drawing. Reading: University of Reading.
Reading University Gazette, Vol. XI. No. 3. July 19, 1938.
Robins, A. G. (1996). Walter Sickert: drawings. Theory and practice: word and image. Aldershot: Scolar Press.
Robins, A. G. (Ed.). (2000). Walter Sickert: the complete writings on art. Oxford: OUP.
University of Reading. Bulletin, no. 227, November 1989.