It was cash only and there were plates of egg mayo and ham sandwiches at the bar – a one-time resident of Ladywell Elspeth Merry remembers Bill Mannix and the great times she had in his Rivoli ballroom
The recent death of Bill Mannix, owner of the legendary Rivoli Ballroom in Brockley stood as a reminder that good people can preserve history and beauty still exists on the dance floor.
Bill maintained that the Rivoli was a beacon of a bygone era, where clubs and pubs were still individually owned and not corporate entities. It’s the only intact 1950s ballroom left in London.
Bill only ever accepted cash at the bar and sold sandwiches: ham, egg mayo and ham salad, all neatly cut into triangles and wrapped in cling film on plates at the bar.
There were always sweets when you bought your ticket for entry. And a lot of dust that had collected over decades.
Bill’s only trace of modernity in the 21st Century was a website. Otherwise it was all ‘old skool’. Only someone as headstrong as Bill could keep it that way.
For many hours I’ve stood (and danced!) in the Rivoli Ballroom waiting for artists to perform and cameras to roll. I first met Bill when I was an Embleteeny – that is to say a child of Embleton Road – at our famous Christmas parties during the late 90s and early 00s.
Organised every year by the late John Ducker, my dad and other Embleton Road luminaries, we couldn’t wait for Christmas.
There was a bouncy castle courtesy of the Lewisham Shopping Centre, inflated in the centre of the ballroom. Then it was hours of madness as my brother and I along with dozens of other Embleteenys bounced and bounced until we were almost sick.
The end of the evening was Father Christmas (John Ducker) handing out presents. It’s a part of my childhood I will never forget.
Bill was well known to my parents. My mum ran a successful salsa night “Salsa Vida” and hosted dance extravaganzas at the Rivoli. I would do the door and watch dancers from every corner of the globe perform.
I remember exploring the ancient cloakrooms and running through the bars with my brother. It felt like an Aladdin’s cave, and we got to be backstage, for one night every month. We felt like rockstars.
The energy in the ballroom was sacred. It was a place that time forgot, and music and dance was your escape. I even got to perform myself, as a professional Irish-dancer. I was terrified, but Bill made me feel like part of a community, even before I knew what community truly meant.
Bill loved his ‘old skool’ ballroom dancers. This meant he wasn’t keen to hire out the ballroom for other dance functions, fearing damage to his beloved Viennese style furnishings.
But my mother managed to convince him to allow a monthly Salsa night as Bill thought they wouldn’t rip the place up. But when my father wanted to hire it for Northern Soul nights or all dayers, Bill wasn’t having any of that dancing crowd.
The ballroom was kept solvent by its regular use as a backdrop to pop videos, TV and film work. Such musical stars as Kylie Minogue, Oasis and Florence and the Machine to name a few, who have used the ballroom as a backdrop to their music.
Probably one of its most famous uses was as the bar in Berlin where Brad Pitt meets Robert Redford in Spy Game in 2001.
I remember my dad was annoyed Bill didn’t hire him as an extra on set that day, or at least allowed him to pretend to clean the chandeliers.
The Rivoli has now found a new lease of life. Bill’s worry about other dancers trashing the place has proved false.
It now hosts regular Soul, Reggae, 60/80s Disco nights and my dad can be found there once a month at the Northern Soul Nights, pretending he is 17 again at the Wigan Casino.
Thank you, Bill, for making sure the lights never dimmed and the dancing never stopped.