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.
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:
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.
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.