We Interrupt Keele Festival Week To Dice With Death On A Strindberg Theatre Trip To London, 28 June 1985

Petra: “I wonder if someone here does advanced driver courses?”

The appointment diary reads “day off” in big letters, but I latterly inserted:

11:00 Day Nursery

Despite the fact that my term of office was over, I was still taking my students’ union duties very seriously and the meeting will have taken a good couple of hours – I have written about my experience of such a meeting previously:

As a result, Petra and I set off from Keele for London a fair bit later than we had intended.

My personal diary entry skims over the details of this…

…but I remember the hair-raising aspects of this episode very clearly.

We took this trip in Petra’s car, as the idea was to have a Chinese meal in Soho’s Chinatown, see The Dance of Death at the Riverside Studios, and then return to Keele at night. That sort of round trip only makes sense in a car.

It also only really makes sense to do that sort of road trip if you allow plenty of time for the journeys and know your way around London by road. We were more than a little deficient in both of those regards.

Imagine the scene – Petra driving east along the Marylebone Road in Friday afternoon traffic, by which time we realised that we had not allowed enough time to eat before heading out to Hammersmith to see the play. I was trying to work out, by landmark and road sign, where we should turn off for Chinatown…or perhaps we now meant to turn off for Hammersmith…

…to be fair, my directions might have been less than perfect…to be equally fair, Petra’s knowledge of the road layout of the Marylebone Road must also have been less than perfect…

…but in truth, I couldn’t fathom then and certainly couldn’t fathom now how the next bit happened. We continued driving east along the Marylebone Road…on the wrong side of the dual carriageway.

I asked DeepAI to reimagine the scene for us. I did suggest that I should be depicted head down in the crash bracing position, but the technology wouldn’t depict that.

I think I adopted the crash bracing position. For sure I covered my eyes at least and no doubt expressed orally my terror. I vaguely remember Petra saying reassuring stuff like:

Don’t worry, don’t worry. It’ll be OK. I’ll get us out of this.

I think she must have manoeuvred across all of the lanes and turned right onto Judd Street, although how she managed to dodge all of the Friday rush hour traffic while doing that I can barely imagine.

I asked DeepAI at least to show me covering my eyes. Not much joy there. You’ll have to imagine the terrified gestures and sounds for yourselves. Still, thanks to DeepAI for the images

The irony of having diced with death ahead of going to see The Dance Of Death might have been wasted on me then, but it is not wasted on me now.

I also recall how bad the traffic was between Marylebone “Dice With Death” Road and The Riverside Hammersmith, such that we were cutting it fine ahead of seeing The Dance Of Death. But we did make it to the theatre in time and by gosh was it worth the trip and the trauma.

The Dance Of Death by August Strindberg, Riverside Studios

All we had forfeited was one day of Keele Festival week (and nearly our lives), but it transpires that the great Alan Bates gave up a Hollywood movie for the chance to play Edgar in this production. Here is a preview interview piece from The Standard:

Dance Bates StandardDance Bates Standard 17 May 1985, Fri Evening Standard (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

I had long wanted to see some Strindberg, having read plenty of it at school and then more during my working summers, when I tended to read plays voraciously while commuting to work. The opportunity to see Alan Bates opposite Frances de la Tour in a Strindberg play, albeit one I hadn’t read at that time, had been enticing to say the least.

Dance Of Death Promo Southall GazetteDance Of Death Promo Southall Gazette 17 May 1985, Fri Southall Gazette (Ealing, London, England) Newspapers.com

I don’t suppose I saw that advert in the Southall Gazette. I suspect I saw a review in The Guardian or The Observer.

Michael Radcliffe in the latter loved it:

Dance Ratcliffe ObserverDance Ratcliffe Observer 02 Jun 1985, Sun The Observer (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

Nicholas de Jongh in The Guardian seemed less sure but still positive:

Dance de Jongh GuardianDance de Jongh Guardian 01 Jun 1985, Sat The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

John Barber in The Telegraph was not so sure about the play or the supporting cast, but waxed lyrical about Alan and Frances:

Dance Barber TelegraphDance Barber Telegraph 03 Jun 1985, Mon The Daily Telegraph (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

That last article reminds me that the production we saw was The Dance Of Death Parts One & Two, barely expurgated, so it ran for a bum-numbing four hours.

That’s FOUR HOURS on those excruciating seats they had in The Riverside Studios back then.

Still, my review of The Dance Of Death was a one-worder:

Excellent

Petra and I will have arrived in Chinatown around midnight, by which time the choice of eateries was limited to say the least – I suspect the choice was either Yung’s or the notoriously and relentlessly rude Wong Kei.

Yung’s in Wardour Street

Extravagantly, and wisely, I plugged for Yung’s, sparing us the indignities and lesser food of Wong Kei. Clearly I thought the meal at Yung’s was very nice as I described it as such in my diary.

I like the diary description “returned through the night” for the drive home, which was, as far as I can recall, relatively incident free.

So was it good manners or post traumatic stress related amnesia that made me miss out the details of the “driving the wrong way along the Marylebone Road” incident from my diary? It’s hard to recall my diary entry mindset, forty years on, although my memory of the incident remains very clear indeed.

Oh yes, (DeepA)I remember it well…

Saved by Edward Bond, Royal Court Theatre, 9 February 1985

Bobbie and I had been blown away by The Pope’s Wedding before Christmas…

…we were very keen indeed to see the companion piece for this Edward Bond revival, Saved. I’m not sure how Bobbie managed to score tickets for this, but she must have found a way. Perhaps we queued up for the release of top notch cheap seats on the day, but I do recall that, once again, we were in excellent seats near the front and utterly absorbed by being there.

I waxed lyrical about the stellar cast in the piece about The Pope’s Wedding. Same cast for Saved, but different director – Danny Boyle no less.

And when I say “stellar cast” I really do mean stellar cast: Peter Lovstrom, Adrian Dunbar, Mark Wingett, Tony Rohr, Peter-Hugo Daly, Lesley Manville, June Watson, Gary Oldman, Joanne Whalley, Gerard Horan…

…here is the Theatricalia entry for this production.

To cut a long story short, we were blown away again. It is a truly shocking paly – no less shocking for knowing in advance what is coming in the ultraviolent ending.

Michael Ratcliffe in the Observer loved it:

Saved Ratcliffe ObserverSaved Ratcliffe Observer 23 Dec 1984, Sun The Observer (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

My friend to be, Michael Billington, also spoke very highly of this production:

Saved Billington GuardianSaved Billington Guardian 21 Dec 1984, Fri The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

John Barber in the Telegraph was less effusive but still very positive:

Saved Barber TelegraphSaved Barber Telegraph 21 Dec 1984, Fri The Daily Telegraph (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

Milton Shulman in the Standard also concurred – this was great stuff.

Saved Shulman StandardSaved Shulman Standard 21 Dec 1984, Fri Evening Standard (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

A Weekend In London, Including The Pope’s Wedding by Edward Bond, Royal Court Theatre, Dinner At The Mayflower After Theatre & Lunch At The Swiss Centre The Next Day, 7 to 9 December 1984

Image from The Royal Court Theatre Living Archive on a fair usage basis.

A moment in my personal history on that visit to London; my first visit to The Royal Court Theatre.

I was blown away by this production – Bobbie and I returned in the new year to see Saved as well, which was being performed in rep along with The Pope’s Wedding. After that, I returned to The Royal Court many, many times. Most recently at the time of writing (forty years on), strangely, as a facilitator for the Royal Court rather than as an audience member. A strange but true story:

But returning to The Pope’s Wedding, I am sure I have Bobbie to thank for seeking out the opportunity to see that production. She was doing her Bar pupillage in London by then and had no doubt spotted a review and/or an advert for the production. I think we got in on some sort of special deal, which possibly involved queueing up for “on the day” tickets. What I do recall is that we saw both The Pope’s Wedding and Saved from the best seats in the house for very modest ticket prices.

The Royal Court has benefitted from this “drug pusher style sales technique” for many decades since; I got addicted to watching theatre from the best seats not any old seats. In fact, many other theatres have benefitted from The Royal Court’s foresight at snaring potential theatre addicts young.

I quite often say “what a cast” in my theatre visit write ups, but on this occasion I think that phrase deserves a shout: WHAT A CAST!

Tony Rohr, Adrian Dunbar, Mark Wingett, Peter Lovstrom, Joanne Whalley (prior to her becoming Joanne Whalley Kilmer), Gerard Horan, Lesley Manville, Peter-Hugo Daly and Gary Oldman – directed by Max Stafford Clark. Here is a link to the Theatricalia entry for this production.

Have I mentioned that I was blown away by this production? (Yes you have, let the reader see what some real experts say – ed).

John Barber in The Telegraph was very keen on it:

Pope's Barber TelegraphPope’s Barber Telegraph 29 Nov 1984, Thu The Daily Telegraph (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

Michael Billington also rated it highly:

Pope Billington GuardianPope Billington Guardian 29 Nov 1984, Thu The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

Pope Shulman StandardPope Shulman Standard 28 Nov 1984, Wed Evening Standard (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

While rummaging, I loved this preview piece from The Standard, not least the fruity headline:

Other Bond GirlsOther Bond Girls 23 Nov 1984, Fri Evening Standard (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

Returning to that weekend, the diary reminds me that we went to The Mayflower (Chinese restaurant on Shaftesbury Avenue) after the theatre – one of those places that we knew would still be open at that hour. I’m guessing that we had fancied trying The Swiss Centre but were too late for that, hence we returned the next day to take lunch there.

One habit that I think we started that Pope’s Wedding & Mayflower evening, which we/I continued for several years after, was to pick up the Sunday papers on Saturday night and start reading them on the Night Bus home if in town at that late hour on a Saturday.

I remember back then thinking that this weekend was the height of sophistication which, for the 22 year old me, it probably was, at that time.

That production of The Pope’s Wedding…wow!

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 SentinelRodgers & 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 TelegraphRivals 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 ObserverRivals 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 TelegraphRivals 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 StandardRivals 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 GuardianHordern 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…

…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.

Street Theatre Script Page OneStreet Theatre Script Page Two

Street Theatre Script Page Three Street Theatre Script Page Four Street Theatre Script Envelope Front Street Theatre Script Envelope Back

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 JerusalemRobert 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 JerulsalemBillington 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.

Twelfth Night Page One
Twelfth Night Page Two
Twelfth Night Page Three
Twelfth Night Page Four