Theatre – Page 73 – Ian Louis Harris

Rodgers & Hammerstein, For One Half Only, With Bobbie Scully, Theatre Royal Hanley, 2 September 1984

Richard and Oscar, unaware of how their work might be abused 40 years later

Sunday 2 September 1984 – a memorable evening at the theatre for all the wrong reasons. And let me be honest about this; it was my own darned fault.

Got up late -did nothing much all day – then went to dreadful show in Hanley. Walked out & had an Indian meal.

This debacle of an evening was at the Theatre Royal Hanley.

It happened like this.

The Theatre Royal Hanley wanted to encourage Keele University students to attend their theatre. They offered me a pair of free tickets to see any show I fancied over the summer. I was a new Student Union sabbatical and it was a new (or I should say revived) venue. I suppose they thought people like me might have some influence over the “yoof” audience.

I spotted what looked like quite an interesting play – with Tom Conti in it if I’m not mistaken, which I thought Bobbie and I would both enjoy when she was up for a long weekend at the end of August/start of September.

Problem was, I chose the Sunday evening (probably because we were otherwise engaged on both the Friday and Saturday evenings) and failed to check whether the Sunday evening show was the same show as the Monday to Saturday show.

It wasn’t.

You cannot blame the box office – they had been instructed to issue me with comps for whatever evening I chose…and I chose the Sunday evening.

The Life And Music Of Rodgers And Hammerstein. I am 95% sure that the show we saw was Hella Toros and her ensemble. A grande dame by 1984, widow of John McLaren, who had been in the original cast productions of Rodgers and Hammerstein shows in the 1950s…

…here’s how she looked and sounded in 1940, before sadness and illness struck her life for some while:

Correction: it wasn’t Helen Toros’s ensemble, it was the Newcastle Amateur Operatic Chorus. The following clipping from the Evening Sentinel confirms why/how I got the “They’re Playing Our Song” offer (Peta Toppano and Barry Quinn, not Tom Conti) confused with Rodgers and Hammerstein, plus confirms exactly who performed:

Rodgers & Hammerstein Evening Sentinel 01 Sep 1984, Sat Evening Sentinel (Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire, England) Newspapers.com

The Evening Sentinel doesn’t seem to have reviewed the show, but I found the following clip in the Lichfield Mercury – click here and see “Life Story In Song” article – which describes Toros’s half-a-dozen shows of similar type.

It was the most stilted show imaginable. Imagine a heavy European accent dramatically stating

Rodgers and Hammerstein, the most wonderful musicals in the whole world…

…I bet she said that about all the composers of such works in all of her shows…

…Ivor Novello – the most wonderful writer of musical shows in history…Sigmund Romberg, the most exquisite operettas ever written…

Between numbers, Hella gave us bits of her life story tentatively connected to Rodgers and Hammerstein. Her late husband’s involvement in the original stage productions of the musicals was bigged up to the extent that one might have imagined that John and Hella were round Oscar and Richard’s places all the time back in the 1950s.

In short, Bobbie and I had turned up at the theatre expecting to see “our sort of play” and found ourselves instead watching a static recital of songs from musicals, delivered in an exceptionally old-fashioned style.

The audience was almost as stilted as the performances. Not that everyone in the audience was about three times our age. Dear me no. Some of them were at least four times our age.

Bobbie and I didn’t know where to look. Actually we did…not at each other, lest the giggles get the better of us.

To be fair, we mostly won the struggle to keep straight faces for most of the first half of the recital…

…until the rather elderly and minimally mobile grande dame of the show, Hella Toros, attempted to sing Happy Talk with appropriate movements…lifted from the movie…

…our struggle with retaining our composure was lost. For good.

We felt we owed it to the audience, who were, after all, our elders and betters, to withdraw during the interval, ahead of the second half of the show, rather than inflict the inevitable giggly disturbances on the audience throughout the second half.

The exact nature of the Hanley-based Indian meal we devoured in place of the second half of the show is lost in the mists of time. It was probably quite good food and reasonably priced – there were some decent Indian restaurants in the Potteries by then.

This show was almost certainly not the only blot on the Theatre Royal Hanley’s choice of billing at that time. This link provides an excellent summary of the Theatre Royal Hanley’s less than special recent history. If anything ever happens to that history blog – and goodness knows the history it is recording is chequered enough – click here for a scrape thereof.

Is it possible that, but for my choice of night/wrong show error, I might have been able to influence the student body to frequent the Theatre Royal Hanley and helped turn around the disaster-prone institution? Unlikely.

On reflection, Bobbie & I probably shouldn’t go to any theatre with “Theatre Royal” in its name…I recall a peculiarly incident-rich visit to the Theatre Royal Haymarket with Bobbie to see Long Day’s Journey Into the Night. There’ll be a link here once I have written that one up.

The Rivals by Richard Brinsley Sheridan, Olivier Theatre, 13 September 1983

Tuesday 13 September 1983 …took Mum & Dad to The Rivals in the evening.

I was making reasonable money while squatting at Woodfield Avenue over the summers. After the travails with my parents – in particular Mum – earlier in the summer, I decided to try a peace-making thank you in the form of treating them both to a night out.

I was keen to see this production of the Rivals, as I had read good things about it. Mum and dad were quite easily persuaded.

I remember it as a very good production and a very successful night out.

Going to The National became a very regular thing for me as the years went on, but this was a big night out for Mum and Dad – it might be the only time they ever went to The National.

Fabulous cast – Michael Horden, Fiona Shaw, Geraldine McEwan, Edward Petherbridge and many others. Peter Wood directed it. Here is the Theatricalia entry. Tim Curry was famously in this production as Acres, but had moved on by the time we got there in September. Barrie Rutter was an excellent replacement.

Below is John Barber’s rave review in The Telegraph:

Rivals barber Telegraph 13 Apr 1983, Wed The Daily Telegraph (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

Robert Cushman also spoke highly in The Observer:

Rivals Cushman Observer 17 Apr 1983, Sun The Observer (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

Francis King also waxed lyrical in The Sunday Telegraph

Rivals King Sunday Telegraph 17 Apr 1983, Sun Sunday Telegraph (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

Milton Shulman in The Standard also loved it:

Rivals Shulman Standard 13 Apr 1983, Wed Evening Standard (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

I cannot find a Guardian review, but the following interview with Michael Hordern just before press night is well worth a read:

Hordern Rivals de Jongh Guardian 08 Apr 1983, Fri The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

NT In Evening With Party, 18 August 1982

National Theatre, From Wikimedia Commons

My recollection of this evening is thin to say the least. My guess is that it was an impromptu works outing, the diary simply reading:

Work busy – went to NT in evening with party

I am pretty sure we didn’t see a show. Danton’s Death was showing at the Olivier at that time but I’m pretty sure I didn’t see that and in any case I don’t think they even put the show on that Wednesday evening.

I am similarly sure that I didn’t see the production of The Caucasian Chalk Circle at the Cottesloe back then. My Cottesloe days were still way ahead of me.

In any case, had I seen a play I am sure I’d have at least noted what we saw – I was already enough of a theatre freak for that. So we didn’t see a play.

No.

I think we must have gone to the NT as scavengers that night. The press night for the Lyttelton production of Way Upstream, scheduled for that night, infamously had to be postponed because a water tank flooded.

Newman Harris had a fair smattering of luvvie clients so I suspect that we were invited along to help mop up, hospitality-wise…certainly not to help mop up the Lyttelton Theatre itself, I’d have remembered that better.

I wonder who was in that “party”? Probably a similar bunch to those I nailed in a short piece about the Phoenix & football from 10 days earlier…

Phoenix & Football With Fellow Workers, Newman Harris, 6 & 7 August 1982

…except some of the more senior folk might well have joined us midweek – Stanley Bloom even, possibly, as he had taken over a chunk of Harry Newman’s luvvie portfolio.

Street Theatre, Princess Margaret and The Ball Debacle, Keele, 10 December 1980

In our first term at Keele, Simon Jacobs and I signed up for a drama workshop thing, run by Brian Rawlins. Brian helped make drama great fun and gave us a great deal of freedom to do what we wanted to do in this extra-curricular group.

I’m not entirely sure who else was part of the group, other than Jonathan (Jon) Rees whose name helpfully appears in my diary and on the single relic I have from the experience.

That first term of ours also coincided with a big debacle over Princess Margaret’s invitation (or lack of invitation) to the students’ union ball. We decided to parody that debacle with a piece of street theatre as our contribution to the debate and as the culmination of our term’s drama work-shopping spree.

My memory of the whole thing is fairly hazy, but the diary and relic provide some help. Here are the relevant extracts from the diary:

11 November – decided to write play

13 November – met Simon and Jonathan in evening to write play

18 November – drama rehearsal good fun

25 November – rehearsed skit in evening – good fun

2 December – easyish evening – drama rehearsal

…and there the references cease. I know the intention was to perform the skit in front of the union on the day of the ball, but my diary is entirely silent on the matter so I wonder whether our skit was scuppered at the last minute. Simon might remember and I am due to see him very soon indeed at the time of writing (April 2016) and so shall update if his memory adds anything to the pile.

Meanwhile it seems from the relic that it was Jon who preserved a copy of (most of) the script and ensured that I had a copy in my memory box. The hand-written skit itself looks like Simon’s writing if my memory serves.

It reads as juvenilia, which is what it is – heck we were all just 18 at the time – but looking back I think we were quite plucky in our first term tackling this particular political debacle head on in this way.

Intriguing also, for me, how it foreshadows some of my subsequent students’ union activity, including my press battle with Nigel Dempster over Princess Margaret.

Anyway, here’s the script. You can drill into the pages to make them bigger/legible size. Unlike my handwriting, this stuff is actually legible. I should add that the character Katy is Katy Turner, the President of the student’s union that year, Mike is Mike Stevens, the Union Secretary that year.

Not Quite Jerusalem Reviews From 1980

I didn’t see this 1980 production. These clippings are a stub to support the production I did see in 2020.

Here’s Robert Cushman in The Observer:

Robert Cushman on Jerusalem Sun, Dec 7, 1980 – 32 · The Observer (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com

Here’s Michael Billington in the Guardian:

Billington on Jerulsalem Wed, Dec 3, 1980 – 10 · The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com

Twelfth Night, The Aftermath, 17 December 1978

Image of 1970s-looking youngsters, a collaboration between me and & Dall-E

I also have a recollection about the after show party, to add to the voluminous piece on my Twelfth Night Production experience.

I had invited my extant (and soon to be ex) squeeze to the last night and the after show party. She told me she was especially impressed with Nathan Ariss’s Feste – a perfectly reasonable review, as I recall his performance was somewhat of a highlight. But at the party she seemed to put quite a lot of effort into letting Nathan know how impressed she had been. Nathan seemed in no rush to restore the natural dating order of things either. I let the girl know what I thought and I think that might have been my penultimate date with her. And it was a really really serious relationship – it had been going on for at least 5 or 6 weeks by then so was probably our 8th or 9th date.

I’m over it now. I really am.

I shared this recollection with the Alleyn’s Facebook group and made my peace with Nathan Ariss all these years later, not that there was ever an absence of peace at the time; I’m sure he was blissfully unaware of the matter back then.

Indeed, reflecting on the matter decades later, Nathan confused my lass with some other lass who had chatted him up/been chatted up by him at that party.

What a carry on – teenagers – honestly.

Twelfth Night, Alleyn’s School, 12, 14, 15 & 16 December 1978

Malvolio (Martin Brassell), Sir Toby Belch (Chris Grant) & Fabian (David Wellbrook). Thanks to Paul Hamer for extracting from Scriblerus.

Squeaky Newton (John Newton, the Deputy Head) tapped me up for this production, but I didn’t want to act again after the Andorra experience, which I had enjoyed but which had convinced me that, while I loved theatre, the boards weren’t really for me. But Squeaky persevered and suggested that I help with the production behind the scenes. I realised that I wanted to do that. He also suggested that I take a small part, Valentine, otherwise I’d feel a bit spare on the nights of the actual show.

Then, with various droppings out (Mark Stevens was originally cast as Antonio) I ended up with two parts and a fairly sizeable one in Antonio with only about four week’s notice for that one.

Meanwhile, I was so blasé about this production I didn’t mention it in my diary at all until a passing mention of “rehearsal” on Friday 17 November before going on to the grandmothers’ (yes, that apostrophe is in the right place, I did the rounds that night, “G Jenny for dinner, then on to G Anne”) places.

Occasional mentions of rehearsals for the rest of November, then best part of 2 weeks with no diary entries at all – very rare – but I guess the play and my other commitments were keeping me a bit too busy.

Next entry is 8 December “rehearsal for play till late”, then:

10 December “dress rehearsal went quite well for 12th Night”,
11 December “day of ignoring school play completely” (not really completely, because I mention the play in my diary entry),
12 December “12th Night matinee then on to BBYO (youth club) with makeup on still”,
13 December “day off from play”,
14 December “12th Night first proper night, very good”,
15 December “most important night of play – went brilliantly”,
16 December “went to school with Julie – last night of play – party afterwards which went on until one”.

I also have a small recollection of the after show party and its impact on the rest of my life – to follow/linked here.

Two more recollections about the production itself. Neil Kendrick, who was one of the officers, discombobulated one night and forgot to say the “away sir”…or whatever line it was that got Paddy Gray, me and him off the stage. I recall that Paddy and I needed to concoct some ad lib business to get the three of us the heck off the stage that night!!

Because I was late to the part of Antonio, I had limited time to learn lines and rehearse the part. Squeaky had also choreographed a brief sword fight with Sir Toby Belch (Chris Grant) before the law arrives, for which Chris and I were under-rehearsed.

One night, I think the first proper performance, unsurprisingly the fight went awry. Perhaps I got over-excited and forced too hard, or perhaps Chris wasn’t holding on tight enough to his sword. It’s too late now for blame or recriminations. Chris went on to be head boy and on the Board of Sport England, so let’s guess it was my fault.

Anyway, Chris’s sword flew out of his hand and over the edge of the stage. I remember listening out for a yelp from an impaled member of the audience, but I don’t think the sword had actually gone very far. Still, there we were, Chris and me, all dressed up, no place to go with our fight. The law weren’t expecting to come on to stop the fight for another 30 seconds or so. Another ad-lib classic, mercifully lost to posterity.

“Did you get good notices?” I hear you cry. Pretty good, it turns out. My recollection was that I had been damned with some faint praise, but in November 2020 Paul Hamer (thanks, Paul) dug out and dusted off his Scriblerus (as it were) to uncover the following rather charming notice by Chris Chivers, an English master who did not generally look kindly upon my slovenly approach to formal grammar.

With many thanks also to Mike Jones, who somehow survived being my form master and teaching me geography in the third year, preserved the programme and uploaded it to our Alleyn’s Facebook Group.

The Double Dealer by William Congreve, Olivier Theatre, 12 October 1978

What a memorable day and special event; a group of us from Alleyn’s School saw The Double Dealer at the Olivier Theatre, having earlier been given a backstage tour of the National and a few weeks before before that been given the opportunity to “workshop” some of the scenes from The Double Dealer with National Theatre understudies and assistant directors.

Yet, so many years on, I struggled to remember much detail about the day of the theatre visit itself. My diary is not much help:

Thursday: Went to Curtain Theatre – Hillel House – Olivier Theatre. Great day.

So there you have it. Great day. What else would I need to write down? After all, it was such a memorable day I would remember every intricate detail – right? Wrong.

I am writing this Ogblog piece on 12 December 2018, the morning before I shall see The Double Dealer again, for the first time in over 40 years. I might recover some more memories of this 1978 day while watching at the Orange Tree Theatre, but I doubt it.

So I decided to “shout out” to my old school mates yesterday, hoping that some would chip in with memories of their own. That proved to be a good shout. Here’s Simon Ryan – who in fact shared lots of memories of our Lower 6th drama course – several of which will pop up in other Ogblog pieces in the fullness of time:

The trip to the National Theatre was a Thursday afternoon matinee at the National Theatre’s Olivier Theatre. Dorothy Tutin had a lead role. The supporting actors from the afternoon’s main show, included Gawn Grainger and Glyn Grain (Duncan Foord and I laughed at them rather than with them, I remember).
It was most definitely part of the Drama AO level course run by Mike Lempriere.
Can’t remember the details about other schools attending.
I remember Dan O’Neill knew the guy who gave us the backstage tour and relayed to us that he needed us to give him a favourable review to help him out. (Dan O’Neill’s elder brother, Hugh and the guy who ran the Bear Pit whose name eludes me, (Stephen Fry? ) but who looked rather like a Restoration fop with long curly black hair, both worked at the NT which is why he had an inside track.

I thought that Simon meant John Fry (not Stephen). John was the Journeyman in the Bear Pit’s production Andorra with us earlier that yearand no doubt went on to further Bear Pit glories later. I didn’t recall the foppish hair…probably because Simon was thinking of Tom Fry. Robert Kelly recalls:

The Bear Pit guy was Tom Fry (not Stephen Fry) and he had a younger brother John… Tom Fry was just as you describe, I thought he was the coolest thing I had ever seen when I first saw him. In fact he may still be…

It is interesting that Simon particularly remembers Dorothy Tutin‘s role. I did remember that, but I particularly remember the production for Ralph Richardson, not least because my parents went on and on about it being such an honour for me to see Ralph Richardson perform on the stage, albeit in his dotage.

Coincidentally, I have recently come across Ralph Richardson in a different context; on of the tennis professionals at Lord’s pointed out to me the similarity between my real tennis bag and that of Sir Ralph’s as exhibited in the main reception at Lord’s:

Sir Ralph’s kit. The legend with the exhibit reads, “…Although not a very gifted player, Sir Ralph was a devotee of real tennis…”

My kit. Mercifully, no legend provided with my exhibit.

But I digress. My point really is…what a cast! I mean, yes I know I am about to shout, WHAT A CAST!

The Theatricalia entry, with cast and crew for this production of The Double Dealer, can be found here.

Here are just some of the names (beyond Dorothy Tutin and Ralph Richardson) from the cast list who, in my view, either were or went on to be stars of stage and screen:

Nicky Henson
Dermot Crowley
Judi Bowker
Brenda Blethyn
Sara Kestelman
Robert Stephens
Michael Bryant
Janet Whiteside

Naturally, I am unable to assess how good a production or collection of performances that really was – it was the first time I had seen a major production of anything. I was completely star struck and stage struck by the whole experience. I thought it was simply the most amazing thing I had ever seen on the stage. Frankly, at that time, it unquestionably was. I guess I would be still be thrilled by that production if I could see it now.

Here’s Jerry Moore, talking about the Drama course generally as well as his memory of that particular outing:

It was an enjoyable course and really developed my enthusiasm for the theatre. Mike [Lempriere] was an excellent teacher but I remember he didn’t like Dorothy Tutin.
Funnily enough, I remember being disappointed with Dorothy Tutin too – but perhaps I was simply absorbing what my drama teacher had said and reflecting it as my own opinion. Anyway, what did we know? Dorothy Tutin picked up an Olivier Award that year for that performance.

The other thing I have done, prior to seeing the play again in December 2018, is actually read the whole play, for the first time.

What a simple, singular, linear plot. Just hints of subplot – Lady Pliant’s intrigues (although they are all connected to the main plot) and the parenthetic dalliance between Brisk and Lady Froth – with which I had so much fun a few weeks earlier at the rehearsal rooms. But oh so simple a storyline for a play of that period.

Congrieve recognises the simplicity in his (typically late 17th Century style) self-effacing dedication. To be fair, he was only 24 when he wrote this play and I think I can see signs of greater things to come.

Here is a link to the full text of the play from Project Gutenberg – free and available to all.

The music in the 1978 production was a new score by Harrison Birtwistle. I cannot find a source for that, but here is the overture from original score, by Henry Purcell:

I’d love to hear more memories and recollections, either from people who were part of our school party or indeed anyone else who remembers this production.

To echo Jerry Moore’s words, this was one of the main events that forged my lifelong enthusiasm for and love of the theatre. I realise that I was incredibly privileged to be allowed this experience and shall always be grateful for it.

Working With National Theatre Cast And Crew “Workshopping” Extracts From The Double Dealer, Curtain Theatre, 22 September 1978

A simply wonderful experience through the school, spread over two dates. In October we had a backstage tour at the National Theatre and then saw a matinee of The Double Dealer at the Olivier Theatre.

But firstly, on this September day, several of us visited the Curtain Theatre, a place the National Theatre must have been using as rehearsal space at that time, where we had the opportunity to work with understudies and assistant directors, “workshopping” some scenes from The Double Dealer.

Friday: Went to Curtain theatre (acted through restoration) Fantastic time there

That’s all the kid wrote, folks. And so far (writing more than 40 years later, 12 December 2018), my shout out to my fellow pupils has drawn a blank on this element of the experience, but has confirmed that this experience was part of a Drama AO level course several of us were taking with Michael (Mike) Lempriere.

I have a strong recollection of girls from another school (I think Mary Datchelor? or was it St Martins Girls?) being involved on that initial workshop day. The actors/understudies, who were getting us to workshop bits of the play, were trying to get us (and to some extent succeeding in getting us) flirting in a Restoration style, mostly by telling the boys that the girls really did fancy them and vice versa.

I was allocated the part of Brisk in a fairly short scene (a minor subplot in an otherwise fairly linear play) in which Brisk reveals his (formerly only faintly disguised) passion towards Lady Froth and finds that the physical attraction is reciprocated.

I shall attempt to replicate below the dialogue between a 16-year-old me (at that time only fairly recently acquainted with the physical pleasures of tonsil-hockey and fumbling with girls in the real world) and the actor who was helping me with my costume and preparing me / egging me on, before I tried out the scene with the mystery girl from another school.

ACTOR: Have you noticed the way she’s been looking at you all morning?
ME: No?
ACTOR: I think she must really fancy you.
ME: I don’t think so?
ACTOR: Oh yes, I really do think so. Anyway, she’s a lovely looking girl.
ME: Do you think so?
ACTOR: Oh yes, a buxom wench with a touch of the gypsy about her if I’m not at all mistaken. You should have some fun acting out this scene with her…

I mean, honestly, if the political correctness and #MeToo movements got hold of this stuff, all the institutions and individuals involved would have a lot of explaining to do.

Here is the scene I acted out with the mystery school girl, who was doubtless being egged on by her actress/dresser as much as I was. The extract below is extracted from and linked to the Project Gutenberg version of the play; a project which I commend to anyone who wants to retrieve and read out of copyright texts for free:

SCENE VI.
[To him] Lady Froth.
BRISK [Sings, walking about.] ‘I’m sick with love,’ ha, ha, ha, ‘prithee, come cure me. I’m sick with,’ etc. O ye powers! O my Lady Froth, my Lady Froth, my Lady Froth! Heigho! Break heart; gods, I thank you. [Stands musing with his arms across.]
LADY FROTH. O heavens, Mr. Brisk! What’s the matter?
BRISK. My Lady Froth! Your ladyship’s most humble servant. The matter, madam? Nothing, madam, nothing at all, egad. I was fallen into the most agreeable amusement in the whole province of contemplation: that’s all—(I’ll seem to conceal my passion, and that will look like respect.) [Aside.]
LADY FROTH. Bless me, why did you call out upon me so loud?
BRISK. O Lord, I, madam! I beseech your ladyship—when?
LADY FROTH. Just now as I came in, bless me, why, don’t you know it?
BRISK. Not I, let me perish. But did I? Strange! I confess your ladyship was in my thoughts; and I was in a sort of dream that did in a manner represent a very pleasing object to my imagination, but—but did I indeed?—To see how love and murder will out. But did I really name my Lady Froth?
LADY FROTH. Three times aloud, as I love letters. But did you talk of love? O Parnassus! Who would have thought Mr. Brisk could have been in love, ha, ha, ha. O heavens, I thought you could have no mistress but the Nine Muses.
BRISK. No more I have, egad, for I adore ’em all in your ladyship. Let me perish, I don’t know whether to be splenetic, or airy upon’t; the deuce take me if I can tell whether I am glad or sorry that your ladyship has made the discovery.
LADY FROTH. O be merry by all means. Prince Volscius in love! Ha, ha, ha.
BRISK. O barbarous, to turn me into ridicule! Yet, ha, ha, ha. The deuce take me, I can’t help laughing myself, ha, ha, ha; yet by heavens, I have a violent passion for your ladyship, seriously.
LADY FROTH. Seriously? Ha, ha, ha.
BRISK. Seriously, ha, ha, ha. Gad I have, for all I laugh.
LADY FROTH. Ha, ha, ha! What d’ye think I laugh at? Ha, ha, ha.
BRISK. Me, egad, ha, ha.
LADY FROTH. No, the deuce take me if I don’t laugh at myself; for hang me if I have not a violent passion for Mr. Brisk, ha, ha, ha.
BRISK. Seriously?
LADY FROTH. Seriously, ha, ha, ha.
BRISK. That’s well enough; let me perish, ha, ha, ha. O miraculous; what a happy discovery. Ah my dear charming Lady Froth!
LADY FROTH. Oh my adored Mr. Brisk! [Embrace.]

It was fun and I recall rather well what the good-looking girl looked like. I also recall that she and I had a friendly conversation afterwards, got on quite well, but I think we both realised that the play was the thing and we didn’t actually fancy each other. Predictably hilarious results averted, no thanks to the mischievous National Theatre team.

In my case, it was probably as much a useful lesson for my next real world teenage wooing experience (which was becoming a more regular feature of my leisure time by that time) as it was a lesson in how to act.

Sadly, I cannot find any information online regarding the “modern” Curtain Theatre – i.e. the place that the National was using as rehearsal space in the late 1970s. Nothing to do with the Tudor/Jacobean period Curtain Theatre. Perhaps someone who knows about it will stumble across this piece and fill in some details.

One other extraordinary thing (to me) that I have discovered about this day, is when it happened. Because according to the Theatricalia entry for the National Theatre production of The Double Dealer, 22 September 1978 was the first preview night for the production.

It seems to me extraordinary that the National Theatre made so much resource available on the day of the opening night for a bunch of schoolkids from a couple of South London schools. Perhaps this was due to the connections that Alleyn’s had or perhaps that was the way of things – by opening night a lot of people had completed their role with the main cast and could move on to sub-projects such as trying to make sixteen-year-old boys and girls even friskier with each other than they would have been without help.

It really was a most memorable day and it made the subsequent experience – seeing The Double Dealer, including Nicky Henson and Brenda Blethyn act out the scene I had worked on a few week’s earlier – all the more special and thrilling.

I already had the drama bug to some extent, of course, but this was one of the main experiences that cemented my lifelong enthusiasm for and love of the theatre.

Andorra, 23, 24 & 25 February 1978

I got involved with “proper drama” at Alleyn’s for a couple of productions. Andorra by Max Frisch was the first of them, when I was just 15. Here are my diary extracts.

The first block, from January, shows little emotion or detail at having got a decent part in a Bear Pit production:

Friday 13 January 1978, Got a talking part in the school play – I’m the innkeeper – V pleased,

16 January 1978, should have rehearsed – cancelled,

17 January 1978, first Andorra rehearsal,

20 January 1978, rehearsed for Andorra, 23 January 1978, rehearsed for Andorra,

24 January 1978 Andorra rehearsal,

26 January 1978, rehearsed for Andorra,

27 January 1978, rehearsed for Andorra,

30 January 1978, rehearsed for Andorra,

31 January 1978, Andorra rehearsal.

Two weeks in, by the start of February, I’m a critic as well as a performer. Didn’t I know about hubris? I was way overconfident anyway – “perfected” is not a term I would ever use now:

Thursday 02 February 1978, rehearsed for Andorra – OK,

03 February 1978, rehearsed for Andorra – OK,

05 February 1978, first Sunday rehearsal for Andorra – not bad,

06 February 1978, rehearsed for Andorra,

07 February 1978, Andorra rehearsal – good,

09 February 1978, rehearsed for Andorra – good – seems to be OK,

10 February 1978, rehearsed in evening for Andorra,

12 February 1978 rehearsal for Andorra in afternoon – a good one,

13 February 1978, rehearsed for Andorra – not bad,

14 February 1978, scene 11 of Andorra perfected.

Matters were bound to take a turn for the worse after that and so they did:

Friday 15 February 1978, Dennis [Galvin] rushed to hospital last night with colitis – Mick Lemp [Michael Lempriere] has taken over,

16 February 1978, rehearsed for Andorra – not bad rehearsal but still looks poor,

17 February 1978, field day and rehearsal,

19 February 1978, rehearsal cancelled as Mick Lemp visits relatives in Exeter,

20 February 1978, Mick stuck in snowdrift, Dan [Shindler] in bed with flu, disaster for play,

21 February 1978, Rehearsed all day for Andorra – Mick & Dan & Den all absent,

22 February 1978, flop dress rehearsal this evening – does not look good.

But the show had to go on:

Thursday 23 February 1978, Yesterday’s flop dress rehearsal lead to an almost empty house [tonight] watching a great performance,

24 February 1978, 2nd night of Andorra – even better than last night – 3/4 house – enjoyed it,

25 February 1978, Last night of Andorra – 7/8 house – performance good – party afterwards – got drunk.

I suffered more than my fair share of embarrassment on the last two nights – written up and available by clicking here or through the link below:

Andorra Embarrassment Story, 24 February 1978

With thanks to Mike Jones, who rescued a copy of the programme, here are scans of the pages:

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