Derek Wilson: Never scared to just say it

Derek Wilson was respected and feared in equal measure.Picture: GARY VAN WYK

Derek Wilson was respected and feared in equal measure.Picture: GARY VAN WYK

Published Aug 14, 2017

Share

Cape Town - Derek Wilson was a journalist’s journalist. Straight-talking, foul-mouthed, charming, engaging, rude, brilliant, offensive, un-PC, curious, fierce, kind-hearted, funny, generous, talented and above all, a mentor to young journalists.

He was the doyen (cue snort of derision from Derek) of the arts and culture scene in Cape Town for many years, with a cult following of the Cape Argus’s Tonight section, of which I had the privilege of working for under his tutelage.

Wilson was an inspiration. 

“I want people who have worked in a newsroom and covered hard news to work for me, my boy,” he would say.

He used to regale myself and former Tonight movie critic Theresa Smith about his days as a court reporter.

Wilson loved the arts, but didn’t suffer fools – we watched with delight (and a touch of trepidation) as he gave PR people an earful over the phone or see them run (literally) from our offices when they saw him approaching.

He would languidly answer the phone with a “Derek Wilson, hello” and based on the hue of his face – if it incrementally became redder – we would be in for a tirade of Wilson-esque proportions.

Wilson was a fierce, but kind, editor. He didn’t speak to myself and former Tonight colleague Bianca Coleman for an entire week after we had deigned to (loudly) debate who should cover a particular event.

“Just cover the f****** event,” he bellowed at us.

Him butting heads with chief sub-editor at Tonight, Peter Wilson (no relation), was also a source of great mirth in the newsroom.

After his retirement in 2007, he would lament “being thrown away” by the profession he gave so much to.

Wilson fought for stories to be published and for the journalists who worked for him. In return, he had our undying loyalty and 

respect.

Cape Argus colleague and Weekend Argus book editor Vivien Horler met Wilson in the newsroom: “I remember when Derek started at the Argus from Kimberley, as a news reporter. He sat across the desk from me and was a very sharp dresser. Co-ordinated: black pants, red shirt, black tie, black-and-white checked jacket. This outfit could be varied with a yellow shirt.

“Then he gave up the ties and started wearing open-necked shirts with a tuft of chest hair and a medallion. He was very funny and clever and could brighten up a party.”

We would joke with him in the Argus newsroom for his propensity to wear Hawaiian-inspired short-sleeved shirts and shorts as a staple. 

“He’d walk down the newsroom towards me (this was much later) and pull the neckline of his shirt aside to point a nipple at me,” 

Horler said.

“At one point, when I was working in London, he had the opportunity to come to London and see as many shows as possible. But he needed somewhere to stay – could he stay with me for six weeks. Six weeks! That’s a long time to share your house with someone. 

“In fact, he turned out to be an utterly delightful guest, taking me to the theatre. And if we saw a pair of what he figured were gay guys, he’d chortle and sing a snatch from Cabaret: ‘Fiddle de diddle de dee, two ladies!’ 

“One day in the tube, while he was ogling a nice-looking guy across the aisle, I said if he didn’t stop I’d caress his tender inner thigh. He stopped.

“When he got bladder cancer and had to wear a bag, something that must have been completely awful, he laughed about it. He never moaned. He was an extremely good man.”

Colleague Alan Simmonds remembers Wilson fondly: “I had the pleasure of being good friends with Derek for 15 years during the 1980s and 90s. For me, his crowning moment was a review of the unfortunate film Xanadu. 

“Wilson dismissed it contemptuously, something he was good at, with a one-word review ‘Xanadont’... I think I injured three ribs I laughed so much.”

Having covered film for the Tonight, Wilson made no bones about his regard, or disregard, for movies – at press screenings, he would choose an aisle seat, give the flick 15 minutes (you’d pick up the glow from him checking the time on his watch) and would leave if it didn’t measure up to his taste.

One of his other passions was cars. After having reviewed the 2004 movie Vera Drake, he said to me matter-of-factly: “I enjoyed it but they had continuity issues. The automobiles featured in it were not period specific.”

Smith and her siblings grew up reading Wilson’s film reviews, and “gained a love of sharp literary criticism from his work”.

“We quickly learned that we didn’t have the same taste as him, but we loved how he wrote,” she said.

“When I first met him, I was amazed at how approachable he was. It surprised me later on when I heard how PRs were scared of him. The first time I met him, he smiled and helped me with a query. 

“Then when I complained to him about a film review one of his reporters had written, he stopped me and gave his favourite answer – send a letter to the editor (himself, of course). Which I duly did. 

“Which is how I ended up writing film reviews for him, because he loved how I skewered his reporter for not knowing his subject matter.

“He was so pleased the day Yunus Kemp and I came to work for him, he couldn’t stop smiling. ‘We’ll show them,’ he said. ‘We’ll show them how the two of you are better writers than all those snooty white critics.’ 

"He kept on pushing us to do better because he really believed in us, and I would never have even thought to try arts writing if he hadn’t rolled his eyes and said: 'Of course you can do this.'"

The only reason Wilson retired was because he had been diagnosed with cancer and the treatment and the removal of his bladder left him with little physical urge to keep on working. He rebuffed all invitations to attend theatre performances simply because he was scared of having an accident with the bag. 

Wilson was a proud man so he curtailed himself to the occasional visit to the Cape Argus newsroom, but even those grew shorter and shorter.

“Derek loved to call me Elsie Geselsie, but whenever he felt he needed some skinner, he’d call me up and off I’d go to visit, armed with the latest information about all the people he knew and we’d natter for hours,” said Smith.

“His flat in Green Point was littered with CDs and cookbooks and he loved watching British TV series right up until his eyesight started failing him. Even then he wanted to know what was good, what was I watching?

“I am going to miss telling him the latest skinny – face it, ultimately that is what reporters do, we tell each other the latest. But I am also going to miss having a friend who believed in me the way he did, with that big smile of his, who didn’t reach for a dictionary every time I used a big word.”

Wilson made many quiver as they waited for his review to appear in Tonight. Fahiem Stellenboom, marketing and media manager for the Baxter Theatre, said many PRs were petrified to engage with him. 

“Many got to respect the man who will always remain an institution in the arts and in the media, a man who represented what arts journalism worldwide was all about,” Stellenboom said. 

“Not only did he make us all aspire to creative excellence, he inspired and mentored a generation of caring, thoughtful arts writers and reviewers. 

“His passing is indeed an end to an era in journalism, and in particular the arts, to which his name became inextricably connected. We will miss you Derek!”

Weekend Argus

Related Topics: