Читать книгу Ed Sheeran - Sean Smith - Страница 10

One item of furniture that was not on the removal firm’s inventory was a television. The Sheerans didn’t own one. Imogen and John were keen that their two boys should not become little couch potatoes. Theirs was an artistic household and they wanted the children to develop their creative nature in the important early years. It was a policy that would pay off handsomely.

Ed would later moan, tongue in cheek, that when they did eventually get a television, all they were allowed to watch was a box set of David Attenborough’s Life on Earth. They didn’t own a TV licence so it was videos or nothing. Nevertheless, Ed formed a lifelong appreciation of Attenborough and his standing as a true national treasure. ‘I was a massive fan,’ he admitted.

Imogen and John were very strict where TV was concerned. Edward and Matthew were allowed to watch one video each evening before they were directed to more meaningful play. Ed enjoyed Pingu, the long-running animated series about a family of penguins at the South Pole. When he was seven, he liked The Land Before Time, the classic animated feature film about the adventures of a family of dinosaurs.

After their viewing allowance, they were encouraged to draw or paint or, in Ed’s case, build with Lego. He loved it, and those happy hours spent as a child would benefit him later when he needed to apply himself patiently to constructing a song. Even as an adult, Lego was comforting.

His mother and father finally weakened and bought a TV licence when Ed was nine. He wondered what all the fuss was about until he discovered The Simpsons – but it was shown at 6 p.m. and clashed with choir practice on a Friday evening. Ed’s heart wasn’t in that musical activity. One regular churchgoer still smiles when she remembers the two Sheeran boys scampering out of the Sunday service at St Michael’s almost before the organist had played the last notes of the final hymn. Their mother’s continued support for the choir, on the other hand, was much appreciated locally: ‘You can tell when she’s singing,’ observes one member of the congregation.

Ed nagged his parents to let him off singing in the church choir. Eventually, they agreed on the understanding that he joined his school choir instead. He was now a pupil at Brandeston Hall, which was in a beautiful location that could rival that of his first school in Yorkshire. The imposing stately hall is at the heart of the village of Brandeston, about four miles south of Framlingham. From its position next to the River Deben, the views across the water meadows would inspire any painter.

The hall was destroyed by fire in 1847 but was rebuilt as an almost exact replica of the Tudor original. It became the prep school for Framlingham College in 1949, and still has the stopped-in-time quality that J. K. Rowling might have imagined for her Harry Potter stories. At Brandeston Hall, Ed came out of his shell. He made a best friend called James Mee and the two boys would take it in turns to go to each other’s houses after school.

James did not have the same television restrictions and it was at his house that Ed was introduced to The Simpsons. He also tasted meat for the first time. Imogen had been keen to start her sons on a healthy diet so the household was vegetarian for a few years. Ed was somewhat taken aback when he sat down for tea in James’s kitchen and was presented with a hearty plate of bangers and mash. He told his friend’s mum, ‘These are the best sausages I’ve ever eaten’, which was true, as he had never tried them before.

From then on, sausages would become a particular favourite. Imogen’s full English fry-ups were a sought-after breakfast when they had friends or visiting musicians to stay. The Sheerans soon became popular hosts in Framlingham, or ‘Fram’, as it’s known locally. Their sociability and ease in company contributed to their younger son’s cautiously growing confidence.

Everything about the market town of Framlingham was cosy – a picture postcard of old England, steeped in history. It was compact, easy to get around and surrounded by delightful countryside. An added bonus was that it was only fourteen miles to the coast where Imogen’s parents lived in Aldeburgh. The drive to Ipswich station to catch the train to London, a journey Ed would become very familiar with over the years, took forty minutes on a good day.

Just like Hebden Bridge, Framlingham has a strong sense of community, with traditional local pubs, independent shops and higgledy-piggledy streets full of the pink cottages so representative of the heart of Suffolk. On any day in the Market Square, the hub of the place, you are likely to see at least six people you know.

The cream-tea atmosphere of the present hardly matches the town’s colourful and somewhat violent past. Framlingham Castle was the seat of the earls and dukes of Norfolk until it passed to Henry VIII’s daughter Mary – ‘Bloody Mary’, as she was known. This was where she gathered her troops before she was proclaimed Queen of England and marched to London to take her throne in the summer of 1553.

The castle was a short walk from the new family home, a spacious detached house, which they bought for the relatively bargain price of £125,000. Today it would cost you £600,000. Ed had his own bedroom and a new piano was installed downstairs in one of the reception rooms at the back, which was perfect for entertaining.

In pride of place amid all the artwork the Sheerans continued to acquire, there were framed photographs of the two boys meeting the Prince of Wales. The family’s association with Prince Charles represented the pinnacle to date of John Sheeran’s career as a curator of prestigious exhibitions. He was appointed to organise and co-ordinate the prince’s fiftieth-birthday exhibition, in 1998. Entitled ‘Travels with the Prince’, it celebrated his work as a watercolourist. It included paintings by contemporary artists such as Emma Sergeant, Derek Hill and Susannah Fiennes, cousin of the Oscar-winning actor Ralph Fiennes. The artists had been specially chosen to accompany Charles on his tours abroad.

The exhibition at the Cartoon Gallery in Hampton Court Palace, in Surrey, proved a big success. With little fuss, Prince Charles has become one of the UK’s most successful artists, whose paintings have raised millions for the Prince of Wales Charitable Foundation. The deal for the travelling artists was that their trip was paid for, the prince had first choice of their paintings and, subsequently, they were free to sell their own work. It was a formula that worked exceptionally well.

Sheeran Lock produced a sumptuous book to accompany the exhibition, in which Imogen wrote the preface and John the text. It was part of a golden period for the couple as John’s star continued to rise. In 2003, he was commissioned by the then President of Nigeria, Olusegun Obasanjo, to curate a special show of present-day Nigerian art in Abuja where the Commonwealth heads of government were meeting. The exhibition included a ground-breaking art-education project for young people from all regions of Nigeria. John and Imogen were inspired by that success to devise other programmes to help disadvantaged young people in the UK. Their philosophy was simple – nobody should be excluded from appreciating art and participating in it.

Ed was shielded from hardship in Framlingham and settled in well to life at a gentle Suffolk pace. The family had a more lively time on their frequent trips to Ireland to visit John’s parents in County Wexford. John is one of eight children – five boys and three girls including his twin sister, Mary Anne – which meant Ed had cousins all over the country. The Sheerans are a large close-knit clan: Ed has always been aware of the importance of family, and has often sung about it. Despite John being born in South London, the Sheerans were very much an Irish clan so Ireland and its music have had a profound influence on Ed’s life.

Ed’s grandfather, Bill Sheeran, was born in Magera, a small town in Londonderry, Northern Ireland. He grew up in the East End of London after his father, James, became a local doctor in Bow. James, who was Ed’s great-grandfather, was reputedly a decent boxer and family legend has it that he once fought the great heavyweight champion Jack Johnson in an exhibition bout in 1913. After a spell of bullying at school when Bill was spotted carrying his violin case, his father had enrolled him in a boxing club and taken him to local tournaments, which had led to a lifelong love of the sport. In a similar way, Ed’s love of music was enhanced by joining his own father for evenings out at pop concerts.

During the Second World War, Bill Sheeran boxed for his school, Epsom College, then trained as a dentist at Guy’s Hospital in Southwark. He continued his love affair with the noble art and became captain of the hospital’s boxing club, where he was trained by Matt Wells, a former world welterweight champion. One of Bill’s favourite jokes was that the hospital’s motto, Dare Quam Accipere, was perfect for boxers. More familiarly translated, this means, ‘[It is better] to give than to receive.’

While studying at Guy’s, Bill took on his most infamous bout – against Charlie Kray, the elder brother of the notorious gangsters, Ronnie and Reggie. Expert opinion gave Bill no chance. Walter Bartleman, boxing correspondent of the old London evening paper the Star, and later the Evening Standard, told him before the fight, ‘He’ll eat you.’ It didn’t work out like that: Bill won the bout on a stoppage when Charlie was unable to continue.

Bill met his future wife Anne Mulligan at Guy’s where she worked as a nurse. She had been raised on a farm near Gorey, a small town in County Wexford, about sixty miles south of Dublin. Ed romanticised their story on his ÷ album. The track ‘Nancy Mulligan’, a traditional Irish jig, describes how theirs was a Romeo and Juliet story. In Ed’s tribute to his grandparents, he highlights the religious divide between a Protestant boy from Northern Ireland and a Catholic girl from the Republic. Her father, according to the song, did not approve of their marriage. He relates their love affair from Bill’s point of view and would later explain, ‘They got married and no one turned up to the wedding. He melted all his gold teeth in his dental surgery and turned them into a wedding ring.’

Exactly how much of the story is true and how much is artistic licence is a guessing game that fans can play with the majority of Ed’s songs. He takes a genuine fact or feeling as a starting point and develops it into a song that resonates with every listener. Everyone has their own stories of love and can relate to the observation that Bill had never seen ‘such beauty before’ when he met his future wife. Fortunately the song met with a thumbs-up from his gran, although she was very modest about it: ‘Oh, it’s fine as long as I’m not there while he’s playing it!’

In real life, Bill and Anne married in 1951 and settled in South Norwood, an area of London south of the River Thames, which seems slightly less glamorous than the ‘Wexford border’ Ed sings about.

Bill’s second love – after his family – remained boxing while he built a thriving dental practice. When his own boxing days had passed, he became more involved in the administration of the sport as a respected steward. A popular figure, he was in charge of many of the biggest nights in British boxing and was on good terms with the sport’s then best-known names, including Muhammad Ali, Henry Cooper and, Ireland’s finest, Barry McGuigan.

While boxing might seem an unlikely bedfellow for the artistic world so enjoyed by his son John, Bill had a passion for collecting art connected to the sport. When the family moved to the quieter waters of Chislehurst in Kent, he filled the house with paintings, drawings, ceramics, sculpture and silver.

In his affectionate tribute to his father after his death at eighty-six in December 2013, John recalled how, in later years, Bill had given away most of his collection to friends. Touchingly, he gave the World Light Heavyweight Championship belt and trophy, won by Freddie Mills, back to the boxer’s widow, Chrissie.

Two years before Ed was born, his Irish grandparents retired to the same farmhouse where Anne had been born in County Wexford. In ‘Nancy Mulligan’, they have twenty-two grandchildren. By the time of Bill’s death that number had risen to twenty-three and there were also four great-grandchildren, a number that Ed has often said he is looking forward to increasing.

Bill loved to show the finer points of boxing to the younger members of the family. Ed’s cousin Jethro Sheeran, better known as the recording artist Alonestar, became a huge fan of the sport, especially after Bill gave him a video one Christmas of Sugar Ray Leonard versus Marvin Hagler, one of the most celebrated fights of all time. From an early age he would be down at Bill’s gym practising Sugar Ray’s moves. Jethro, like many of the younger generation, idolised his grandfather: ‘He always instilled into us to be humble and respect others.’

It’s easy to imagine Bill teaching Ed, who was quite a small boy, self-defence. Anne proudly remembers that her grandson was ‘lovely as a kid’. Ed revelled in his visits to the farm in the summer holidays when he would camp with his cousins in the big barn beside the house. He forged a lifetime love of Ireland, its people and its traditional music, and still visits his grandmother whenever he can.

Boxing proved to be the focus of the 2017 video for ‘Shape of You’, Ed’s biggest-selling single to date. He displayed some promising moves as an aspiring boxer in love with a female fighter in his gym. By then his grandfather had died, after a battle with Alzheimer’s disease but, in the poignant ‘Afire Love’, Ed recalls his dad telling him as a boy that it wasn’t his grandfather’s fault he no longer recognised his grandson’s face.

Bill was president of the Gorey Boxing Club and members formed a guard of honour for his funeral, paying a personal tribute to him: ‘In Bill Sheeran we have lost a mentor, inspiration and role model whose generosity and kindness has helped thousands of young men and women.’ He was buried with a pair of boxing gloves in his coffin. In his obituary for Bill, published in the Guy’s Hospital journal, the GKT Gazette, John Sheeran recalled his father’s car-bumper sticker, which robustly declared, ‘Pugilism not vandalism’.

Ed fell in love with the Irish music he heard on his childhood holidays. He adored the traditional Irish folk groups Planxty and The Chieftains, but most of all he loved an artist who, ironically, he had first heard his dad play on one of the long drives south from Yorkshire. Van Morrison was the first of three major musical influences on Ed Sheeran. He listened to his classic albums Moondance and Irish Heartbeat and was hooked.

Moondance, which was released in 1970, is often hailed as a masterpiece of modern music and remains one of the best-loved albums of all time. Perhaps more interesting with regard to Ed’s musical development was Irish Heartbeat, a collaboration between Van and The Chieftains.

Van, who was born in Belfast, had been an Irish icon for more than thirty years since he first came to prominence in the group Them, with whom he recorded classics such as ‘Here Comes the Night’ and, more significantly, ‘Gloria’. His most famous song, ‘Brown Eyed Girl’ was his first solo single in 1967. He became a master of soulful blues, releasing a string of acclaimed albums.

While he had never deserted his Irish background in his songs, Irish Heartbeat was a return to more traditional music – albeit overlaid with Van’s inimitable vocal style. Three tracks in particular resonated with young Ed, who was seven when the album was released in 1998. He loved the folk songs ‘Carrickfergus’, ‘On Raglan Road’ and, most of all, the elegiac title track. Ed has yet to release these songs himself but acknowledged, ‘Van Morrison is a key influence in the music that I make.’ He paid homage to Carrickfergus by including a reference to it in ‘Galway Girl’ as well as mentioning ‘Van the Man’ in his hit, ‘Shape of You’.

And if you had been lucky enough to be drinking in the back room of the Cobden Arms in Mornington Crescent in 2010, you might have heard nineteen-year-old Ed enjoying a pint with musician friends and singing these favourites at the top of his voice. That, though, was many years in the future and the last thing on the mind of a quiet schoolboy still trying to conquer his stammer. It was time to do something about that.