The funeral service of actress and speech and drama teacher Ann Gritten – known in her acting years at the Lyric Theatre as Ann Scott - took place on October 8 at the Northdene Methodist Church. The large number of those present proved her popularity among the local parish and community as well as the professional theatre industry.
Actress, director and arts journalist Gisele Turner read out the following moving tribute which she had penned:
Her eyebrows were shaped like those of a Hollywood goddess, / Their elegant arches framed her sea-change eyes, / Eyes alive with emotions that crossed her loving heart, / A secret heart that also had its chambers of anxiety and woe.
In thirty-five years we had intermittent interaction, / But I always felt a little bubble of pleasure when I saw her; / We easily swam the stream of shared affection and interest, / Dived happily into family news, mutual friends, current plays, work. / She didn’t seem to change much over this time: her style was set: / Floral frocks, high collared shirts, pretty skirts and a soft hairstyle that framed her winsome face.
Once, she gave me breakfast on her veranda; we ate ripe camembert and fig preserve on toast / And drank tea from 100-year old cups; it stuck in my memory for its sense of luxury / Its genteel and gracious hospitality here in the wild coastal jungly gardens of the southern suburbs / Of a (almost new) east coast African city-port.
She and I shared a vocation: as teachers of speech and drama our lives were filled / With students eager for fantasy, fulfilment and fun. Her warm and modulated voice, / Rich with toned expression, would range over the words of favourite poets and authors / and playwrights with sincerity, joy and respect.
Her humour was delightfully child-like; that laugh came readily and unconsciously, / It arrived clear and sweet, igniting her eyes with fire, cool as stars. / But my very favourite was the way she wrinkled her beautiful turned-up nose / And lightly hunched her eloquent shoulders in delight. It never failed to make me feel I had / been given an unexpected and lasting gift.
I mused about her journey from this life; thought of her, Ann, in her new home. I fancied God might / Have turned to her and said “And how do you find Heaven, my dear?” and she, her eyes alight with bliss, / Would smile at him, that irresistible smile, and say: “It’s lovely, Darling, Thank You.”