Japan Chapter 6.2: Finale…

Wakeful, during my second night in Hiroshima, I recall more poignant details I learned in the last couple of days from Toshiko Tanaka, atomic-bomb survivor.  When she gave birth to her first daughter, Reiko, Toshiko’s husband arrived at the hospital looking pale and worried.  He counted Reiko’s fingers and toes and when he found that she was born without physical defects he said, ‘Thank you!’  Toshiko realised that, out of love, her husband had never said anything, but had always been secretly concerned about the possible after-effects of the atomic bombing.  In my play, Shigeko, suffering from radiation sickness, seriously contemplates whether she should have children, in case they too, like her, will have been ‘contaminated’ by the bomb.  The atomic bomb not only wreaked havoc on this two fateful days, August 6th and 9th, but spread its sinister tentacles down the generations. 

Eventually, day breaks and I realise it’s October 1st – a new month.  We now have only three more days in Japan.

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Japan Chapter 3: An American In Tokyo

So, it’s been an eventful few days – but all in a good way.  Well, apart from the ‘stuck up a cul-de-sac for half an hour in a huge taxi’ incident.  (Did that not make the World Service news?) 

On Sunday afternoon we had our second performance of The Mistake for a much quieter and more solemn audience than the previous day.

This was followed by our first Japanese Q and A with the help of an interpreter. Some really interesting and absorbing questions, one person wondering why we hadn’t given Shigeko, the 1945 atomic-bomb survivor, a Hiroshima accent?  Good point!  In fact, the highly skilled translator of our bilingual script, Yojiro Ichikawa, had asked me initially, ‘Shall I use Hiroshima dialect for Shigeko?’ and I’d said, no – thinking that that might be one extra challenge too many for Riko to take on.  But the audience member now went on to say, that having Shigeko played in Japanese without a dialect made her somehow more universal, someone we could all identify with. Interesting.  

As in many other Q and A’s, I am asked what gave me the idea for the play – and so I recount my story of reading two interviews in the Guardian newspaper twenty three years ago (the yellowing copy of which I still have and show to the audience), an interview with the pilot and an interview with a survivor – and how I began to wonder whether that might work dramatically…if the descendant of a survivor sought out the pilot in his old age to ask him some tough questions… and thus the seeds of The Mistake were sown.

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Japan Chapter 2: The Real Devil Is War

‘I’m So Grateful…’ ‘We’re So Grateful…’

Those words are ringing in my ears as I walk back to my tiny apartment in the balmy Tokyo evening, after our first ever bilingual performance of The Mistake – indeed, our first ever performance of the play in Japan.  ‘This play – so important.’  ‘Very important, this play you have written.’ 

‘In Japan we feel that only Japanese can understand all the feelings around the atomic bomb.  But your play shows that a western person has understood those feelings and understands what the people in Hiroshima suffered.’  

This is all incredibly humbling, as you can imagine, but also a real affirmation of what I hoped for in bringing this play to Japan. 

Hang on, I’ve skipped a few days.  

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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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Performing in Amish Country – (but not for the Amish).

We leave South Bend and Notre Dame University and on Monday morning (April 14th) head for Chicago Airport – where we will fly east with all our bags and baggage.  

First class on the internal United Airlines flight is only marginally more expensive than a regular ticket – so I treat the three of us to a little more legroom (plus superior snacks) on the two hour journey and for the first – and probably last – time in my life, I sit in seat 1A: first on and first off.  A small treat for me after all the stresses and strains of dealing with my three large cases – one personal and two for the play.  

We’re met at Harrisburg Airport by the wonderful H.A. Penner, my host here previously in 2018, and Lydia, both of whom help us with our luggage into the van they’ve commandeered for three days.  We head to Lancaster County, our base for two performances in two churches – and the heart of Amish and conservative Mennonite country.  

Our hosts are Mennonites too, but they are progressive, liberal ones, with no qualms whatsoever about using cars, cellphones or electricity.  

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Sports, Religion, Sports, Peace, Sports Sports Sports…

The huge campus of the famous US university of Notre Dame in South Bend, Indiana, is a place where Holy Cross Drive intersects with Frank Leahy Drive.  

A place where you walk past sculptures of the same Frank Leahy (a famous Notre Dame football coach), then past a statue of the fabulously named women’s basketball coach Muffet McGraw (oh, yes) and then, after a short walk, past the huge, beautiful mural known as Touchdown Jesus.

 I kid you not.  Jesus with his arms raised as if signalling a touchdown in American football.  The mural is on the north side of the impressive Hesburgh Library – and is visible from the vast Notre Dame stadium nearby.  (Sports, religion, sports…)

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The Man Who Sets The Hands of the Doomsday Clock

So far on this tour, I’ve felt butterflies, goosebumps and now shivers down the spine.

Let me explain.  You can spend so much time in emails and phone calls and Zooms – as I have, trying to pin down a particular venue for The Mistake in different parts of the US – and then all that effort comes to nothing.  On the other hand, you can shoot off one speculative email – as I did just one month before leaving for the US – which was way too late – and get an immediate positive response and booking.  Such was Chicago.  

I had tried for months to get a performance in the Windy City to no avail. Various very promising options fell through late on – after I’d (perhaps foolishly) booked flights and Airbnbs.  But that last minute speculative email of mine was to the Chair of the Department of Physics at the University of Chicago, Peter Littlewood – to which he responded that, yes, they’d love to host us on one of the dates we were in Chicago, in the Physics Department Lecture Theatre.  I was beyond thrilled at the news.  

So…Day 7 – after treating us to a fabulous breakfast at a lovely coffeehouse in downtown sleepy Manchester, Katy and Libby waved us off with our many suitcases and we began the three hour trip back to Chicago: Manny once again at the wheel of his voluminous (it needed to be) Lincoln Navigator.  We were headed straight to the University of Chicago to set up and prepare for a 6 pm performance.  We didn’t have much time to be ‘tourists’ but we managed a quick look around.  

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52 characters – all with a sore throat (highlights from my whirlwind tour of the UK – November 2018)

Sunday 4th November.
Performing smack-bang in the centre of London – at the charming off-West End venue Jermyn Street Theatre, a stone’s throw from Piccadilly Circus. Amazingly, not only do I manage to park the van nearby but being a Sunday I have found a free slot. Free parking? In central London?
For eight hours? Result!

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To Walk or Not to Walk…

July 12th 2018

It’s all very well putting on your website that in a year or two’s time you plan, all things being well, to walk the whole of the Western Front, all 475 plus miles of it, as part of your ‘peace initiative’ – and to tie in with the end of the ‘100 years since the First World War’ commemorations.

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The Olivier Theatre of North London

March 2nd 2018

Saint Augustine’s church, Haringey, is not easy to find – up a small side street off the ever-busy Green Lanes. Along with the house next door, it is home to the London Catholic Worker, who offer it as a house of hospitality alongside their many other charitable activities – especially their work with destitute and homeless refugees.

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