Well, what did you expect at this time of the year? So I missed a week, so what?
Luckily, I took copious notes at Jonah’s master-class on Directing, ensconced as I was behind the grill of the air-conditioning duct into the rehearsal studio. But that was three weeks ago, toward the end of April, and things have happened since then around the Granary Theatre, Malcaster. Let me first bring you up to date.
No... let me first appraise you of the fact that, since he gave his master class, I have had the devil’s own job at keeping Oscar’s mind on training up new directors. The fault was mine of course: I made a big mistake in reminding him that whenever his age has been exactly divisible by thirteen he has undergone a cataclysmic experience of a sexual nature. You’d think he would have grasped by now that he’s past it, but no... since his 65th birthday, he spends most of every day sitting on the stern deck of the narrow-boat ‘Playmaker’, hiding his eyes under the peak of his sailor’s cap, puffing on his pipe and weighing up the potential of every woman of beddable age who passes by, just in case she might be the cataclysmic one. And he looks so innocent!
If any woman is going to provide him with a spectacular event, it’s his own wife, Cara, as well it should be. She’s still got that galah’s egg from stupid Edna, the pink poltroonette, nestled down among her cleavage in the chamois bag lined with cotton-wool that she made for its incubation. Every now and again – when she’s sitting in the warm somewhere - she unwraps the egg and frowns at it, she’s convinced that it’s addled, but I’ve got some news for her: the egg that Edna left in our nest before she got recaptured has HATCHED! Penny and I were convinced it was infertile, or it had gone off, because it went all shiny and turned dark grey just before the ugliest creature you’ve ever seen in your life pecked its way out. Penny’s still sitting on our own three snowy white owl-eggs while this baby cockatoo demands all her attention. It even squeaks like Edna squawks, but it hasn’t started yelling “Pieces of eight!” yet, like its show-off mother does. And it doesn’t apologise for the fact that I have to spend hours every day chasing bloody insects for it to eat and THAT’S what takes the time when I should be writing this column. I have enough trouble catching real food for Penny and me – soon I’ll be hunting for our three chicks as well, when they hatch. I have to chase all these fiddly little greenfly for an idiot female parrot with theatrical pretentions...
...and all Oscar does is sit on his boat, ogling the women!
...and all Edna does is climb about in her cage, squawking and shouting at passers-by. She’s even made up a rude rhyme to “Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!”
Anyway, let’s get back to where we left the Master Class, at the end of the first pause for questions and answers. (‘Master class indeed!) (“P-TEW!!” I spit.) Some of the questions asked by the fifteen attendees were quite interesting. Indeed, much to my surprise, I found myself taking quite a shine to one of the university students, a young lady called Sinead, which she pronounced “Shenade” – lovely (raven-haired).
“So let’s look at the five phases of any and every production,” said Oscar, causing everybody to hush up and dash back to their chairs. “Interpretational and Planning, pre-Books-Down, pre-Performance, Performance and post-Performance. I’ll begin by assuming that you have chosen or accepted a challenging play to direct, but one that you know you can handle. As far as Play Selection is concerned, well I‘ve dedicated an entire chapter to it in my book, ‘Playmaker’, a chapter entitled ‘MATERIAL IS EVERYTHING’. Believe me, it is; if you begin with a sow’s ear, the chances are...”
“...you’ll end up with a sow’s ear,” everybody chorused. Then they giggled.
“So we start with a silk purse, an exciting and ambitious play with which the director can fall madly in love, and transfer that passion to every other team-member.
“But, by the time you meet your production team, you will intimately know every inch, wrinkle and nuance of that play. You will have researched its background and peered into every crevice of its author’s soul. Feel free to examine my old production copies, which are in a pile on that table. Help yourself and feel free to ask me any questions you want to, about the contents. I swear I could write a novel about every play I’ve ever directed, but – by the time I reached my third or fourth experience as a director, I had learned the value of research and preparation. Neglect it and the team will never gain full confidence in you as their director, you’ll never catch up.
“A couple of minutes ago, I used the phrase ‘every other team member’ and I did that on purpose because that’s what you are – just another team member – albeit the one who reserves the right to make decisions for everybody else, but you can only do that if you command their absolute respect. It’s not automatic, you have to EARN their respect, you’re not entitled to it simply because you’ve assumed the title of Director.
“In this context, I refer you back to my comments on Love and Discipline.
“But, if you’re sensible, you will have ceased being alone well before you reach the end of the Interpretational and Planning Phase, because you will have chosen your Stage Manager, persuaded her to accept the job and started to work with her. I’m not talking about some empty sham of power-sharing (in which stupid titles like Associate Director and Production Assistant are bandied about), I’m talking about a clear division of the work-load, but not the responsibility. Put simply, the Director takes charge of every creative aspect of the production, while the Stage Manager relieves him of every practical aspect. In their early discussions, the Director and the Stage Manager work out who does what. Thereafter, the SM never interferes with creative aspects and the Director makes certain that his SM is kept fully informed, helped and supported, on every change – however minute – that affects the production’s practical aspects. For her part, the SM formulates the Prompt Copy, which becomes the production’s bible.
“Throughout every production phase, the SM retains control over technicians and the Director retains control over the actors right up until he passes control of the production overall to the SM, including all matters of backstage discipline. Indeed, after that milestone event, I never venture backstage without the SM’s permission.
“The Stage Manager is your trusted right-hand and confidante. Get a good one.”
“What if...” began one of the attendees, “What if you cannot find a competent Stage Manager who is willing to work with you?”
“Then I drop the production, Gwyneth,” replied Oscar. “I resign from it before I’ve wasted anybody’s time, effort or money. May I tell you a story that illustrates this?”
Gwneth gestured her acquiescence.
“The drama society of a well-known university invited me to attend and discuss a production with its committee. I had seen some of their work and they were good, but I was not prepared for the manner in which they received me. I didn’t mind waiting in an anteroom while the committee assembled, but, when I was ushered in, they had arranged themselves in a row behind a long table and had placed a hard little chair facing them at a distance, clearly for me to sit on and be interrogated in the manner of the Star Chamber. ‘O.K.,’ I thought, ‘if it makes them comfortable to do this, they are after all the Producer.’ (That is to say that they are the entity that provides the money to cover production costs, including my fee.) But I picked up the chair and carried it up to their table, so that I could lay out the papers from which to detail my requirements.
“They were shocked when I requested not only their nomination of potential Stage Managers, but also the name of a composer who could act as Musical Director because they had a history of large-cast plays and I have a history of creating original music whenever possible. They told me that the SM could be appointed later, by them, and I told them that the SM must be appointed now, by me. After a short discussion among themselves, they gave me the name of a potential Musical Director and agreed to get back to me on the matter of appointing a Stage Manager.
“In the remainder of that meeting, we selected a Shakespearean comedy that had been on my list for some time. I began my preparation and had discussions with an able and talented young composer – the ideas were flying thick and fast – but, two weeks later, they had still not produced a Stage Manager and it became obvious that they had not even tried to find one, so I resigned from the production.
“As a sort of reflex action, they arrived as a deputation at my home to apologise for all foregoing behaviour, which is when I recruited my own SM. We went on to have a nice production in which we all learned a lot about Theatre.”
“So,” queried Gwyneth, “without an apology you would have trashed the production.” It was not a question, but a comment through tight lips of condemnation.
“No, love,” said Oscar, “please pay attention: the apology didn’t matter a toss, but the absence of a good SM would have impaired our efficiency from the start.
“O.K.,” he continued. “Let’s accept that my friend and admirer has started an interim question and answer session and field any more doubts you may have about the early establishment of a strong team structure in which ideas and creativity can burgeon and flourish. In other words, within a disciplined structure exists total freedom to explore and liberate all of the play’s potential.”
An icy silence accompanied Oscar’s return to his chair. He had no need to read Gwyneth’s thoughts, but her expression betrayed feelings that I alone could read. She and Oscar had known each other for many years, so we can all be thankful that there was no way in which she could be the cataclysmic candidate.
Sinead, however...
(in his dreams)
Jonah was a very experience director, teacher and writer who sadly passed away in February 2006. He was also the author of the highly successful "Playmaker - The Craft of Directing Plays (The Way I Seen It)".