Before the House Un-American Activities Commitee (well, kind of )

Scene:  a forbidding committee room arranged in the style of a courtroom.  A stern official – seated – is firing questions at a British actor/playwright – who is standing in front of him.

‘It has come to our attention that an audience member at a performance of your play The Error –

‘Mistake, your honour.’

‘Pardon me?’

‘The play is called The Mistake.’

‘Don’t interrupt again.  An audience member at a performance of your play deemed it to be un-American.

I must therefore ask, are you now or have you ever been a playwright who depicts the sufferings of innocent victims of war?  More specifically, a playwright who writes about the victims of American atomic bombs?  A playwright opposed to war in all its forms and to the military-industrial complex?’

‘Yes.  I am.  And I stand by everything I’ve written.  But it has never been my intention to create a work that was un-American.  I have tried to portray all sides of the debate, of the conflict.  Fairly.  To give every character the opportunity to vigorously make their case.’

But I’m getting ahead of myself.  Again.  Back to my first full day in New York City – Monday April 21st – before we’ve even entered the theatre which will be our home for the next three weeks.

I find myself singing as I walk the streets downtown with our director Rosamunde Hutt, who flew in the day before.

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With the Quakers in upstate New York

April 18th.  You learn something new every day.  Today I learned that ‘Nazi Democrats are all low-lifes’.  This was painted on a large board outside someone’s  house on a quiet country road near Old Chatham in upstate New York.  Joseph, our host and prime organiser for our two performances in the area on Good Friday and Easter Saturday (would anyone come? I wondered.  Wouldn’t they all be on their Easter break, with family, or away visiting relatives?)…anyway, Joseph was driving us in his pickup truck (another story) to Patrick, a friend of his who, over time, has been a dancer, actor and is also a playwright – who happens to have also written a play about Hiroshima – something he’s been working on and a subject he’s been obsessed with for far longer even than myself.  Since the age of ten, he tells us.  (He’s now in his early seventies.)

Out of the truck window I see an elderly couple – who look so sweet and charming – walking up the hill past the sign.  ‘Joseph! Are they a couple of Nazi Democrats, by any chance?’

He chuckles. 

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One step at a time

Day 1 – Step 1… 5.20am up.  

Step 2… 6.50… lugging three extremely heavy suitcases downstairs to the waiting minicab which can barely squeeze them in.  The elderly driver is friendly and has a smoker’s cough.

Lots of traffic which then loosens up – like the driver’s cough.

At terminal 5, he helps me pile the three cases, a tatami mat, a silver case and my rucksack onto a pathetically small trolley.  He is again friendly on saying goodbye.

Step 3 … trying to check in all these cases with BA. And pay for the extra baggage.  As I was unable to get the cheaper rate for doing this online (a complaint many users have voiced through Tripadvisor etc) and am a bit perplexed now by the self-checking-in system at the airport, a business-like and efficient BA official offers to check the bags in for me and sort payment.  I thank her more than once for her assistance. First extra bag – £75.  Second extra bag £155.  Okay, I’d budgeted for this. She takes payment for the first bag.  

I thank her again for her help. She then says she will waive the charge on the second bag. What?!  She has softened a little – there’s even a hint of a smile. I thank her again – profusely.  And realise I have just encountered the first angel of this six week adventure.

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As seen in Burger King – once upon a time…

Oct. 29th 2017 

‘To beep, or not to beep, that is the question…’

 Is that chap about to leave or not?  Can’t tell.  But he doesn’t look happy.

If I beep to show him I’m waiting, will he get in a strop?

Behind me, someone has decided that ‘To beep’ is the answer to the question.

Well – to honk, loudly…

‘I’m waiting to see if this chap’s going!’ I mouth impotently back at them.

Honk!  HONNNNKK!

Oh, give me a break…

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Modern Technology, Ping-pong, and a Quick Thump of the Fist

June 12th 2017
So there I am, all set up and ready to go at the Oasis Hub venue, Waterloo, on Friday evening June 9th … a hundred plus folk have turned up to see ‘THIS EVIL THING’ (despite having stayed up half the previous night to watch ‘THIS ELECTION’S HUNG’).

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Back to earth

As the leaves begin to turn this autumn, so my thoughts begin to turn to next autumn, when I hope to have a tour in place for This Evil Thing (the Edinburgh run of which I have just about recovered from – including putting a little of the weight back on that I shed through 23 sweat-drenched performances). And hopefully a London run, too.

Watch this space.

This Evil Thing: three days to go…

Did I catch him smiling?

So, we have completed our two London previews of THIS EVIL THING to small invited audiences in our rehearsal space at Room One – without stage lighting but with all the set, sound and costume.

And phew! they seemed to go down well. And I already seem to have a lost a bit of weight. Will need to up my carb intake etc etc in order to perform this piece – and make sure I stay hydrated.

I have strategically-placed sips of water available during the play (in a tea- cup, a sherry glass, a whisky tumbler, and a period bottle), but they are just sips. The serious drinking has to be done well in advance. A voice coach told me you need to start drinking water four hours before you perform to give it time to be fully absorbed by the body.

It’s been an incredible experience, feeling the piece come together with the help of such a brilliant team, Ros, Jane, Zoe and the two Marks…and without wishing to sound too mystical, I really feel the COs themselves are behind the project. I have a large copy of a photograph at home of Bert Brocklesby, the main CO in the play, given to me by his granddaughter Jill Gibbon. Now it may just be fanciful thinking on my part, but when I got home after the first preview I could have sworn that he was smiling ever so slightly – as if to say – ‘Hey up, lad – that were grand…’

His photograph will be coming with me to Edinburgh on August 1st along with photos of the other significant people in the play – safely stowed in an enormous suitcase with everything I might need for my month north of the border. Keep smiling on us, Bert…