I wrote surprisingly vaguely about this in my log, as I am sure I wrote it up fairly soon after seeing the play:
unsure of length – recall shortish no interval
Impressionistically, I remember the evening fondly. Paula Wilcox was an actress I had only previously seen doing sitcom, but I remember realising that she really could act…and needed to for this piece.
Fortunately for posterity, despite its small scale, it was written up by proper journalists at the time. So I didn’t need to.
Robin Stringer previewed the piece in the Standard:
This was a preview of a show Ken Campbell put on at The Piccadilly Thetre later that year.
I loved Ken Campbell’s work and I seem to recall a very funny monologue in one of his earlier one-man shows when he talked about his fascination with the New Hebrides (now Vanuatu) and vaguely posited the idea of performing MacBeth in pidgin.
In this piece, Campbell goes into far more detail about the language and his desire to establish pidgin as a world language, or Wol Wontok, which he believed could be achieved in just a few days as the language is so easy.
Here is Ken Campbell’s Guardian piece shown on the back of the programme note above, in proper clipping/readable form:
The first part of the prodcution was fascinating and funny, but, in truth, Janie and I found the delivery of MacBeth in pidgin less funny than the idea of it being done.
Never mind. An evening in the hands of Ken Campbell is never dull and I remember this evening more fondly than my log note suggests I would:
Not as much fun as we thought it might be – the idea is funnier than the delivery
Somewhat strangely, through work, soon after seeing this play, I met Patrick Ellum, who was a former Attorney General of Vanuatu. Through Patrick, I met one of that nation’s visiting Prime Ministers and his entourage. No, I didn’t try out my pidgin on them, although I did ask them about the deification of Prince Philip in Tanna. Hopefully I’ll Ogblog that event in the fullness of time.
But I digress.
“Prince Philip” in pidgin was, “nambawan bigfella emi blong Misis Kwin“, by the way.
I digress again, but no more.
Lyn Gardner in the Guardian gave Pidgin Macbeth a guarded thumps up, while signally failing to translate The Bard’s name into pidgin properly – it’s “Macbed Blong Wilum Sekspia“, dear, not Sekstia – typical Grauniad:
Michael Gambon & Eileen Atkins couldn’t save this slight play for us.
Yasmina Reza was all the rage at that time, not least because of Art, so this play transferred for a while – indeed we missed it at The Pit, seeing it at The Duchess (but not WITH The Duchess).
Nicholas de Jongh in the Standard really liked it:
That suggests that we didn’t get a great deal out of this one, unusually for Mamet. Possibly we just felt that we’d seen a lot of material like this before.
Was it three short plays or one play with three somewhat disconnected scene?. I wrote down
The Disappearance of the Jews, Jolly and Deeny.
Splendid cast: Linal Haft, Colin Stinton, Zoe Wanamaker, Vincent Marzello and Diana Quick, directed by Patrick Marber.
By gosh was I pleased when I learnt that my local, The Gate Theatre in Notting Hill, was to put on this play. Some years earlier, I had bought a book of European plays in translation and had read this play, along with some narrative about it, with a mixture of fascination and wonderment. Part of my wonderment was thinking about how on earth the play might be performed, but I suspected at the time that I would never see the piece in production.
Unlike my “how on earth might this play be performed?” musings, it worked remarkably well in this imaginative production in the Gate’s small-scale, theatre-above-a-pub environment. The Gate has reliably been extremely good at doing this sort of thing over the years.
Superb…
…was my single word verdict, which summed it up for both me and Janie.
Our friend, Michael Billington, gave a similar verdict in The Guardian, lauding performers Sean Gallagher and Jenny Quayle, plus translator Thomas Fisher in particular:
Susannah Clapp gave it a glowing and quite lengthy review in the Observer, especially praising the director, Gordon Anderson and the designer, Jane Singleton:
Let’s just say that we wouldn’t now (writing 25 years later) attempt quite such a full itinerary for a Friday through Monday long weekend jaunt. Three plays at Stratford, a motorised hike to the Welsh Borders for lunch at The Walnut Tree before going on to Hay-On-Wye for some overnight- second-hand-book-buying on my part before stopping off for a long lunch at Raymond Blanc’s place (Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons) in Oxfordshire and then home.
I think we stayed in the Shakespeare for this trip. Janie booked it but only wrote down “Twelfth Night Room £115 per night” which I suspect in those days was a suite or certainly a superior room.
The RSC does far less modern material at Stratford these days (he says 25 years later), which is one of the main reasons why we go there far less frequently now.
On the Sunday morning, we drove on to Abergavenny. One of Janie’s clients had recommended The Walnut Tree Inn, with very good reason – we had a magnificent Sunday lunch there. It seems that the place didn’t have a Michelin Star yet when we visited, but it was certainly star-standard food and service. It has had a chequered history in-between times, improving and then losing its reputation, but in more recent years it seems to be doing extremely well. We’re glad.
Then on to Hay-On-Wye, where we stayed at my favourite stop-over place there – The Old Black Lion. I recall buying rather a lot of second-hand books at relatively high speed – some late afternoon/early evening on the Sunday, and then more first thing in the morning Monday. I think this was the trip upon which I found a pristine copy of The Boundary Book in a most unlikely place, something I had been seeking for several years. These days such things are not so hard to find while simply sitting on your backside, although my copy with the original bat-shaped cardboard book mark on a piece of ribbon is possibly still a rare find.
We had allowed more than two hours to get from the Welsh Borders to Le Manoir Aux Quat’Saisons, but should have allowed far longer for a cross-country narrow road hike on a Monday – lots of slow-moving rural vehicles with no chance of overtaking for miles. Janie phoned in to say that we would be at leats half-an-hour late for our 13:30 booking and was told that technically they take last roders at 14:00 but they would be flexible on that as long as we arrived soon after two…which we did.
It was a beautiful day and Raymond Blanc himself came out to greet us soon after we arrived, telling us with great charm that he had heard that we had experienced a difficult journey but that we should be sure to relax and enjoy our lunch at leisure. Fabulous food. Possibly the first time I had spent quite so much money on a single meal (£260, when that amount was real money), despite the fact that we only had a glass of wine each. An absolutely wonderful and unforgettable experience.
Janie and I were partial to a bit of Richard Nelson at that time – the RSC put on several of his works in the late 1990s.
We saw this one as part of an extraordinary whistle-stop long weekend which took in three plays at Stratford (this the third of them), a motorised hike to the Welsh Borders for lunch at The Walnut Tree before going on to Hay-On-Wye for some overnight- second-hand-book-buying on my part before stopping off for a long lunch at Raymond Blanc’s place (Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons) in Oxfordshire and then home. Friday to Monday. The other bits have been written up separately from this piece – click here or below.
I think we stayed in the Shakespeare for this trip. Janie booked it but only wrote down “Twelfth Night Room £115 per night” which I suspect in those days was a suite or certainly a superior room. I did the rest of the trip, including The Old Black Lion in Hay.
I guess the RSC was on a nostalgia-trip for its older audience at that time, with Talk Of the City at The Swan about the cloud of Nazism and this one at The Other Place set just after the Second World War.
Excellent cast, as you’d expect from the RSC. Catheryn Bradshaw, Sara Markland, Robin Weaver and Simon Scadifield to name but a few. Here is a link to the Theatricalia entry.
Charles Spencer didn’t like the play, but it did pick up an Olivier award so what does he know?
…was my log note for this one. “His” referring to Stephen Poliakoff, whose best I rate very highly.
Janie and I saw this one as part of an extraordinary whistle-stop long weekend which took in three plays at Stratford (this the second of the three), a motorised hike to the Welsh Borders for lunch at The Walnut Tree before going on to Hay-On-Wye for some overnight- second-hand-book-buying on my part before stopping off for a long lunch at Raymond Blanc’s place (Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons) in Oxfordshire and then home. Friday to Monday. The other bits have been written up separately from this piece – click here or below.
I think we stayed in the Shakespeare for this trip. Janie booked it but only wrote down “Twelfth Night Room £115 per night” which I suspect in those days was a suite or certainly a superior room. I did the rest of the trip, including The Old Black Lion in Hay.
As for Talk Of the City, Poliakoff directed this one himself, if I recall correctly, which I think might have been (and often is) a minor mistake – i.e. playwrights, even if superb directors, can usually do with an external eye as director on their own works.
We saw this one as part of an extraordinary whistle-stop long weekend which took in three plays at Stratford (this the first of them), a motorised hike to the Welsh Borders for lunch at The Walnut Tree before going on to Hay-On-Wye for some overnight- second-hand-book-buying on my part before stopping off for a long lunch at Raymond Blanc’s place (Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons) in Oxfordshire and then home. Friday to Monday. The other bits have been written up separately from this piece – click here or below:
I think we stayed in the Shakespeare for this trip. Janie booked it but only wrote down “Twelfth Night Room £115 per night” which I suspect in those days was a suite or certainly a superior room. I looked after most of the rest of the trip, including The Old Black Lion in Hay and Le Manoir.