My Memories of Bath Art School, by Sue Marguerite Clayton
Here is Sue’s personal recollection of her time at the school, kindly written by her
The Bath Art school opened in November 1942 in Sydney Place and closed at Cramwell, Weston in 1973. My years at the school were in the 1960s from 1962 to 1966. I have always lived in Bath.
It was a momentous day when I heard at my junior school, South Twerton, that I had been chosen for an entrance exam at Bath Secondary School. We had to draw either of two subjects — I remember drawing a vase of flowers, which I enjoyed.
All five of us from South Twerton School were accepted. On hearing I had passed the entrance exam, it was a pleasure to attend the school, which consisted of two buildings in Sydney Place, numbers 99 and 101, and our classroom was in number 99.
Suitably attired with my uniform, which was purchased from The Don outfitters in Bath, which was exciting to wear. It consisted of a grey blazer with an owl badge on the pockets, royal blue beret also with an owl badge, blue jumper, and grey skirt.
On reflection, the school looked rather grand, and more so for having Sydney Gardens as our playground for breaks. I had experienced these gardens as a child venturing off with a friend for hours on those days when you could go off to play and return when you knew it was getting late. Sydney Gardens was and still is a magnet for solitary fun or adventure, boasting beautiful trees hidden bushes and exciting places to exchange childhood chat.
On my daily walk along Great Pulteney Street, I entered the school, which started at 9:15am. At the time, I didn’t think much of all the stairs; they weren’t all that wide, but then there were only around 100 pupils in the two buildings. Our classroom seemed quite dark, with wooden desks and inkwells, though cartridge pens were being introduced. I had a fountain pen, which I lovingly filled with turquoise ink. I loved English and took pride in my writing.
My uncle was a steam train driver, and we would run excitedly to see if he was the driver on hearing the chugging of an engine gathering speed from Bath spa station. We did see him once from the bridge at Sydney Gardens.
Our exercise books would be covered with paper, I sometimes used brown paper or even wallpaper scraps in 1960s patterns. I spent some of my lunch breaks having school meals in Grove Street just past Laura Fountain.
One day, after lunch, some senior girls pulled me aside and gave me a trendy make over, a far cry from the days of Jane Austin’s Sydney Place. This was the 1960s, so they backcombed my hair in a Helen Shapiro (a singer at the time) hairstyle and gripped my beret at the back of my head: apparently taking the tab off was christening it! They applied white lipstick and black mascara and eyeliner and told me I needed a push-up bra! Skirts were pretty short in the 1960s. Pop socks to the knees were also popular, either plain or stripey. The girls were friendly.
I distinctly remember hockey on the recreation ground in freezing conditions. Though I did enjoy playing centre forward, sometimes I made an excuse to get a prescription of Dad’s, I always kept an old one, so I would head off into town with my friends to buy hot nuts and the like in woollies till the lesson was over.
The school relocated to Cranwell’s grade II Victorian mansion in Weston. So, after a year and a half at Sydney place, I moved there. Before it was completely refurbished, my dad took me to see the empty mansion. He had been a butcher boy delivering there many years ago. It was at one point Pitman from Pitman Press’s mansion and grounds. The Drive had a beautiful carpet of bluebells and tall trees to the side. There was a lovely Victorian fountain and lily pond directly in front of the very ground building.
Starting school when it opened was very exciting: there was a grand staircase with a large brass ship’s bell, which had been donated, sitting at the top, though I’m not sure of the connection. There were lots of large classrooms, with equally large windows looking out on the grounds. The library boasted beautiful wooden cupboards. Lunchtimes we would sit on our desks and listen to records of the Rolling Stones or whatever was popular at the time. I love drawing fashion arts it was the trip Twiggy era.
Our head Mr Hall, slim build and softly spoken, taught maths. I found him kindly, though he could be quite strict apparently. A favourite for pupils was Mr Cook, who would share his love of classical music and art inspiration. Mr Gray was popular in an attractive way and was quietly spoken. He took history and pottery, as well as sending pupils off for nature walks and the like. He ended up marrying Miss Hawker, the secretary. Mrs Brailsford, a shapely woman whose husband had a nylons factory in Walcott Street and would bring in some samples, taught French. Miss Smith, our English teacher, inspired me to write stories. She was an old school marm type: very tidy, polished shoes, you knew to toe the line with her! She was very respected. Miss Ratcliffe, a tall lady with short black geometric hair, taught geography. I sat at the back of the classroom with my bestie. We would have constant giggles. I’ll always remember her telling us we were heading for the ice age! Mr Chubb taught science: I decided to do a clever cartoon of him, from ginger hair, knobbly knees and hairy legs. He came over and tore it up, so I promptly responded by tearing up a rather nice science book. Quite unlike me actually. Mr Hall got involved and met my mum, but he was fine and let me off with a caution.
Our school was very easy going and enjoyable, typical of the laid-back 1960s. To be taught at Sydney Place and Cranwell’s was indeed a privilege. I didn’t go into art but enjoy writing and have written many short stories through the adult learning diploma at Bath College and writing groups.
