Wednesday 7 June 2023

The Matchseller Remembers - An Interview with James Haddrell, Artistic Director of the Greenwich Theatre.

James Haddrell is the Artistic Director of the Greenwich Theatre.  His creative choices have helped to diversify the productions staged within the venue.  On one day, you may see a touring production of a satire of a classic novel and on another, a singer performing the works of Piaf.  I was recently lucky enough to see his productions of the two Pinter plays, A Slight Ache and The Dumb Waiter.  His directorial work and support of both fringe and new plays in general have helped to rejuvenate the Greenwich Theatre.  This is the third time I have interviewed James Haddrell and each time I have learnt something new about the processes of theatrical production.  I interviewed him just prior to the end of the run of the Pinter plays, so without further delay… 

You are currently staging two of Harold Pinter’s plays in the Greenwich Theatre, A Slight Ache and The Dumb Waiter. When did you first become interested in Pinter’s work and what informed your choice of plays?

I have been interested in Pinter’s work for years, with some key productions informing that – Malcolm Storry in English Touring Theatre’s production of The Caretaker here in Greenwich and Keith Allen in The Homecoming come to mind. I have always wanted to tackle The Dumb Waiter. I’m a huge fan of Beckett too, and the links between The Dumb Waiter and Waiting for Godot are clear. I love the evocation of old comedy double-acts that sits within The Dumb Waiter, the blend of absurd comedy and the surreal. And of course, the final tableau is unforgettable. In seeking a suitable pairing for that, I wanted to find a piece that contrasted as strongly as possible, and when I read A Slight Ache I was immediately convinced. Set in a different class, replacing the real-time boredom of The Dumb Waiter with an existential treatment of time, replacing the psychological impact of casual violence with the psychological impact of anxiety, agoraphobia and class-riddled social convention, the play nevertheless does end with an astonishing, unforgettable reversal, and in that regard it partners with The Dumb Waiter perfectly.

I have seen many of Pinter’s plays before (several more than once) and I found your production of A Slight Ache to be revelatory. Your production subtly revealed to me a subtext involving class relations, which I had not really considered before when seeing the play. The rather insidious way that the couple feel the need to dictate the work of the match seller. Do you agree that this is one way of exploring the play? Also the play was originally a radio play, did this hold you back in any way or did it liberate you, in terms of set design etc?

I think you’re absolutely right. The couple’s casual disregard for the humanity of the Matchseller (whether he’s there or not – he’s there for them so their conduct towards him is telling in any case), the belief that they can buy him (Flora’s “can I buy your tray of matches?” devalues his trade in such a dismissive way), their colonial view of the world, whether talking about villages or continents – all of these come from the disregard of others and the sense of self-importance held by those in a position of economic strength.

The translation from radio to stage is something we tackled before when we staged four of Caryl Churchill’s short plays. There is an inherent challenge in the shift – radio drama needs a script that describes everything, which delivered on stage can seem over-written, dense and wordy. However, the biggest shift in this case is the presentation of the match-seller on stage. On the radio there is no presence, but I was adamant, whether the interloper proved to be real or not, that the audience should see what Edward and Flora see. Whilst that may seem to limit the audience’s interpretation of the nature of the figure, making a decision for them, for me the match-seller is absolutely there – whether in the flesh or as fantasy, Edward and Flora feel his presence so an audience should be invited to share in that.

Pinter’s plays offer a variety of challenges for actors. Personally, despite the fact that they loosely inhabit the so-called ‘Theatre of the Absurd’, I have always felt that they capture the routine practices and regular mundanity of the human condition in an often realistic fashion. Human conversations are often uncomfortably punctuated with moments of silence.  How do you as a director work with the actors to inhabit characters who quite often have back stories that are not fully developed?

I agree – mundanity, and the sinister overtones that can exist within that mundanity, sits at the heart of Pinter’s work. The question about back stories is an interesting one. Different actors like to tackle that in different ways, but I always invite actors first to draw out whatever is offered in the script and then to improvise and devise a back story from that. For The Dumb Waiter, the time it was set and the age of our characters meant that they had probably both fought in the war. For Edward and Flora we had to make decisions about family – there are no children mentioned but could they have had children? Could Flora have wanted them and been let down by Edward? I do think back story creation is an important exercise. Actors need to know what is driving their characters and what associations their characters are making in every statement, but as director I always make the creation of those stories a collective exercise. All of the actors along with the creative team in the rehearsal room have a place in devising each character’s story.

I have noticed that you often work with the same actors. For example, you have worked with Kerrie Taylor on a few occasions. Does the practice of working with someone whose methods you respect and understand add to the development of the shows? How much input would you allow an actor in creative decisions outside of the development of their character? If they offered suggestions based on mise-en-scene etc, have you in the past or currently, integrated such ideas into your productions?

Absolutely – working with the same actor on a number of occasions is valuable for a range of reasons. It creates a shorthand in rehearsal. It develops a deep sense of trust so if I need to push actors to explore difficult emotional ideas they are prepared to do that with me (Kerrie is tackling something very different with me now, moving from Pinter to Philip Ridley’s Vincent River in which she plays a mother whose son has been murdered). And yes, absolutely – I always take suggestions on all aspects of a show from cast members – particularly, I have to say, with costume, which can contribute to a character and to an actor’s ability to embody that character.

Additionally, you seem to have a strong supportive team working with you. How has working with the same Stage Manager, Cora Parkinson helped you in the development of your shows?

Cora is a fantastic young stage manager who I first worked with in 2021 when she was a first year technical theatre student. I immediately hired her to work with me on a professional basis, and Vincent River will be our tenth show together. When you have someone in rehearsals that you’ve collaborated with so many times, they become far more important than their job title would suggest. Cora understands the aesthetic that I’m looking for, the exercises I favour with actors, my sense of humour – and I always look to her to validate decisions I’m making – does this work, is this funny, impactful, appropriate? Those kind of collaborations are incredibly important for me, and I’ve never been a believer in the auteur approach. I always make theatre with a team.

You are shortly going to produce a new version of Philip Ridley’s Vincent River. I remember seeing the play some time ago with Louise Jameson in the role of Anita. I have noticed that you are pairing Kerrie Taylor in the role of Anita with a recently graduated actor called Brandon Kimaryo as Davey. I feel that the pairing will help to bring out the nuances of the play, the nature of experience and how perceptions of any event differ based upon time and involvement. From your past experience of working with actors at different points of their careers within the same production, do you find that a very special energy and rapport manifests as a result of the combination? Do both parties come away from the experience with new insights into the art of creating characters?

Working with actors at different stages of their careers is always exciting. It happened last year when we presented Mike Bartlett’s An Intervention with Lauren Drennan playing opposite newcomer Helen Ramsay, and as you say we’re doing it again this year with Kerrie Taylor and Brandon Kimaryo. It’s always challenging to work with actors who don’t share many cultural references – I’m always referencing films, plays, music, directors, performance styles etc in rehearsal, and often it means nothing to one of the two actors in the room – but that’s exciting. I love the discoveries that everyone makes along the way, and it’s definitely the case that all of the performers learn from each other. I always encourage that in any rehearsal room. No actor is a complete master of their craft, and clearly neither am I, and there is nobody with nothing to share.

Philip Ridley is one of those playwrights that I have noticed more as I have explored the productions of fringe theatre. As is the case with Harold Pinter, I have seen a number of his plays. His plays also cover an eclectic range of themes, relationships and their inevitable ups and downs, violence, drugs and their repercussions. Sometimes, they are shocking and at other moments, extremely tender. A number of his plays feature a small number of characters, which allows him to focus on character development. What attracted you to Philip Ridley and his works? There is definitely a continuing resurgence of interest in his work. What do you feel is contributing to his current popularity?

It’s such an interesting question. I’ve loved Philip Ridley’s writing for years, but he’s certainly in the ascendancy again. I think a lot of the things that his work deals with are of particular importance to young audiences – identity, sexuality, coming-of-age narratives, inter-generational power (which is not to say that those things don’t impact on all ages, but they feel particularly live for younger theatregoers) – and I think those audiences have become more important to producers in the wake of the pandemic. Younger audiences have returned to theatres, and to live performance, earlier than others, so venues need to present work that appeals to that audience. Also, I think that Philip’s work is fundamentally left-wing, and we’re living in a moment where the rise of the right is being felt ever more painfully – so many of the issues that he addresses have a renewed potency.

When you are producing the works of living playwrights, do you ever approach them if there are ever any textual or content issues that you wish to address that may be hindering certain aspects of the production of a play? Alternatively, do you prefer to see the play text as the starting point and that your job as a director is both to celebrate it but also to mould it into something that is uniquely the work of yourself, the actors and your production team?

I love having access to a playwright – Philip has been into rehearsals already and we have been in regular contact – but that said every new production has an obligation to recreate a play for the time, the venue and the audience for which it exists. Similarly when I take on a script I always strip out all of the stage directions and start again with the words spoken by the characters. Also, although I certainly don’t consider myself a writer, I often work with actors to write interior monologues or conversations, to bring those charged theatrical silences to life. In that way the script is just a starting point for the final production.

Returning briefly to the subject of your current Pinter productions, who designs your promotional images? The advertisement for The Dumb Waiter and A Slight Ache consisting of a gun and a wasp being forced backwards against a yellow background is one of the most powerful images I have seen in a while and it also succinctly captures the themes of the plays. The Vincent River promotional image is also strikingly indicative of the contents of the play. Do you offer input into the images that are used to promote the shows at the Greenwich Theatre?

Most of the posters for our in-house productions are designed by a company called Dragonfly Design. I have worked with them since about 2005 when I was the marketing manager for the venue. Their main designer, Malcolm Reid, also did all of the editing and production design for our online pandemic productions of Berkoff’s The Secret Love Life Of Ophelia and Caryl Churchill’s The After-Dinner Joke. With the posters, I always have an input but the final image is very much a collaboration between Dragonfly and Greenwich Theatre.

I have noticed through your articles in the South London Press that you often highlight and celebrate the works of other theatres. I feel a tremendous degree of respect for you for your support of other theatres. How often do you get to see productions outside of the Greenwich Theatre? Do you feel that in the current economic climate that theatre visits are often sacrificed owing to ticket costs? To me as an audience member and avid attendee of many productions, I feel that theatre is even more relevant during times of turmoil. Would you agree with that sentiment?

My theatregoing has reduced a bit in the past few years as I now have a young family, but I’m starting to rebuild that. I’ve had great visits to the Unicorn Theatre and the Park Theatre recently and I’m at Hampstead Theatre next week, and I obviously see a lot here at Greenwich Theatre. Once my routine is back to its usual rhythm I’ll be seeing 3-4 shows a week. I’m also planning to get back to the Edinburgh Fringe this year or next, and I would usually catch 50-100 shows at the festival each year. I do think that audience sizes are reduced at the moment, partly as a hangover from the pandemic and partly because of the cost of living crisis – and we’re also all finding that the audiences that are coming to see our shows are booking far later than they used to. Younger audiences make later decisions anyway I think, and more traditional audiences got so used to last minute cancellations or illness, and then train strikes and even horrendous weather, that I think they have been reconditioned to make later decisions.

And yes, I’d completely agree. Theatre is at its strongest, as all the arts are, in times of turmoil. Stories offer either escapism or intellectual challenge, taking audiences away from difficult situations or helping to confront them – I feel privileged to be a part of an industry with storytelling at its heart.

What are your future plans with the Greenwich Theatre? Will your theatre continue to offer a creative space for students and also continue to stage an eclectic range of productions for both adults and children?

Absolutely. We’re planning to maintain our recent run of in-house productions of work by important playwrights – the work is attracting attention across the industry and beyond, and at a time when the availability of touring theatre has reduced it is vital for us to fill the gaps with quality shows. At the same time, Greenwich Theatre occupies a really important position in the national theatre ecology. We are a mid-scale venue where young companies can step up from the fringe and try out new work without risking huge amounts of money, but where they can earn a good return if their show does well. We will continue to support and nurture those early career artists, in both the main house and the studio, and to present work for a wide audience. Our work for families and children also remains important to us. The 2023 Greenwich Children’s Theatre Festival was the biggest ever, and plans are well underway for this year’s pantomime, as well as a host of other family shows in between. It may sound like a cliché, but we really do strive to offer something for everyone at Greenwich Theatre…

Thanks to James for allowing me to interview him again and I recommend that you go to see Vincent River at the Greenwich Theatre (23rd June 2023-15th July 2023) if you can.

Afterword.

The Greenwich Theatre continues to offer an eclectic range of productions for all ages.  Please see the link to their website below:

Greenwich Theatre, London Off-West End Theatre

Any references to Harold Pinter’s plays are used to illuminate this blog and the Greenwich Theatre’s recent productions.  They are copyright to their respective copyright holders.  If you ever get the chance to see Pinter’s plays, please go and see them as his works are still amongst the most vital and important plays in modern UK theatre.

Also the works of Stephen Berkoff, Caryl Churchill, Samuel Beckett and Mike Bartlett are also worthy of your attention, if you like to see eclectic plays that touch on a myriad of themes and ideas.

Dragonfly Design have their own website, if you would like to see further examples of their work:

 Dragonfly (dragonfly-design.co.uk) 

James Haddrell is a regular columnist in the South London Press newspaper, which can also be read online:

South London News – South London Press & Mercury (londonnewsonline.co.uk)

Additionally, the Unicorn Theatre, Park Theatre and Hampstead Theatre are all theatres who produce essential works:

What's on | The Unicorn Theatre

Park Theatre

Hampstead Theatre | London

The term 'The Theatre of the Absurd' was coined by the writer, Martin Esslin in relation to the works of a number of significant playwrights writing during the 50s and 60s including Pinter, Beckett, Ionesco and Pirandello.  He wrote an excellent book on the subject entitled The Theatre of the Absurd which is still available and offers a good way in to Absurdist writings.  An edition is currently available from Bloomsbury Publishing.  Although, it can also be bought second hand too.

Photos and promotional images (Used with the permission of James Haddrell & the Greenwich Theatre).


James Haddrell directing at the Greenwich Theatre.


                                 





Flora and the Matchseller embracing a moment of possibility
and change in 'A Slight Ache'.
(Flora played by Kerrie Taylor and the Matchseller 
by Tony Mooney)

The Matchseller and Edward wishing for another moment
in 'A Slight Ache'.
(The Matchseller played by Tony Mooney and
Edward played by Jude Akuwudike)  



Gus and Ben waiting for their job in 'The Dumb Waiter'.  
(Gus played by Jude Akuwudike and Ben by Tony Mooney)

The brilliant promotional image for 'The Dumb Waiter'
and 'A Slight Ache'.


Kerrie Taylor and Brandon Kimaryo.  Also promotional image
for 'Vincent River'.



A promotional image for the forthcoming production of 
'Vincent River' at the Greenwich Theatre.


Barry Watt - 21st May 2023 and 7th June 2023.

























                                           




Sunday 12 March 2023

Jeanne Dielman, 23, Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles - The Aesthetics of Banality.

Last night, I went to the BFI to see Sight and Sound's choice of 'Greatest film of all time' based on their 2022 list.  The list is chosen by critics, so any surprise at the choice, is rapidly forgotten.  Critics are rarely likely to pick the conventional choices, in the midst of political and cultural changes, both positive and negative.

Jeanne Dielman, 23, Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles was made in 1975 by the director Chantal Akerman, who also wrote the screenplay.  Now before I discuss the film and how it made me feel, I want to suggest that it is not a unique film thematically, Luis Bunuel's film, Belle de Jour (1967) explores the idea of a married woman who works as a prostitute in the afternoon and Agnes Varda's film, Cleo from 5 to 7 (1962) offers a very memorable female protagonist who awaits the results of medical tests to find out whether she has cancer.  I mention these two films, not to denigrate the impact of Akerman's film, but to reiterate that there are other films that feature strong female protagonists, which are also worth seeing.

The first thing that anyone ever mentions about Jeanne Dielman is the length of the film.  Its running time is 201 minutes.  Now historically, the longer films tend to be more action based (for better or worse) and the key to their appreciation lies in immersing yourself in their sense of spectacle and their character development, where it is apparent.  The actions in this film are primarily focused on a small apartment with occasional excursions into the environs around the abode of the mother and her son, Sylvain.  The static camera is set up and long takes of the minutiae of life are offered to the viewer.  The editing is minimal.

Now from my brief description of the cinematography, you could be mislead into believing that the film would be slow paced.  Well, the events of the film depict three days in the life of a mother and a woman who primarily lives and breathes in her apartment alone (her son comes in each evening after school or college and basically ignores her, but their companionship is apparent from the moment he first appears.  They are not enemies to each other, merely separate in terms of their needs and desires, although Jeanne is clearly interested in her son's academic work.  They also both have an interest in music and song).  

Jeanne Dielman spends the majority of her days doing housework and preparing meals.  Everything about her life is ritualistic, even the monetary transactions with her afternoon clients before they leave.  The director focuses exhaustively on the tiny details, the seemingly endless shot of Jeanne as she peels a handful of potatoes.  Also one particularly horrific shot of Jeanne kneading meat that I am sure would repulse most vegans and vegetarians (I eat meat and even I found it hard to watch).  She takes pride in her work and all of her daily rituals, provide her with some kind of security.  They never explicitly state it but her behaviour is largely resemblent of sufferers of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.  Personally, I recognised the non-stop pattern of turning light switches on and off.  Also her life is so determined by an order of her own creation, it becomes painful to watch at times.

By the time, the viewer gets to day 3 of what eventually transpires to be her mental breakdown, all of the comforting rituals break down (she drops an item of cutlery whilst drying up, loses her grip on a brush as she polishes her son's shoes and arrives far too early for the opening of certain shops she regularly frequents).  In a film where many daily routines are shot in real time, it is telling that the most saddening sequence on day 3 involves Jeanne going to her regular cafe/bar, only to discover that her table has been taken.  She ends up shifting to the table adjacent to her usual one but is very uncomfortable seeing another person spread over her territory.  

Despite my descriptions of the events of the film, there are moments of humour in the film, particularly a scene involving a child Jeanne momentary looks after whilst a neighbour goes out and gets shopping.  Jeanne's maternal instincts are negligible to say the least as she picks up the child from the carry cot and the baby howls an almost primal scream.  Also a short discussion that Sylvain has with Jeanne about sex (Sylvain believes in an almost ideal notion of relationships.  You should only have sex with someone you love and also the act of sex seems to horrify him in some respects).

My enduring memories of the film will be informed by the diegetic use of sound.  The sound although regularly heightened or exaggerated is, as it would be in your daily life.  The viewer can hear the traffic noises from outside and the other sounds associated with the routines of life.  The boiling kettle reaches a high pitched note on the gas oven and the light switches click on and off audibly, whilst Jeanne's shoes tap repetitively across her apartment.  There is also an interesting use of light throughout the film.  The main living room has a wall that is rendered visually unstable by the neon lights from a building opposite and the lift from the ground floor to Jeanne's apartment is surrounded by a light show that helps to oppress her character, even more than the tight confines of the life.

By the end of the film, the viewer genuinely cares about Jeanne Dielman's plight, although we have only been privy to scant details about her personal life but have an almost encyclopaedic knowledge of her daily routines.  Her final act and its aftermath leave you wondering what next for the character.  Will the serving dish continue to act as a receptacle for money?  Will her son discover what has happened?  Also I left the cinema thinking, did it happen or did she imagine it?  To find out what I mean, you will have to see the film or read a synopsis of the plot but I do recommend you see the film.  I certainly don't think it warrants being number one in any list of 'Greatest films of all time' but it has an energy and fundamentally, if you view it as a film in which 'nothing much happens', I beg to differ.  Where 'nothing much happens', everything matters.  I think that is the most important lesson of all.  Sometimes, the big picture is so much less significant than the activities of the daily grind.  Life is in the detail.

                                                                                                 Barry Watt - 12th March 2023. 

Afterword.

The film Jeanne Dielman, 23, Qual du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles is available on DVD and Blu Ray.  Although, my blog entry has explored various aspects of the film, it's definitely worth seeing and significantly, I think it warrants seeing with an audience too.  As such, if it ever gets shown at a cinema near you, please go and see it.

The BFI (British Film Institute) has a website and as an organisation are very supportive of film making and film in general:

https://www.bfi.org.uk/

Sight and Sound is a magazine produced by the BFI:

https://www.bfi.org.uk/sight-and-sound

Belle de Jour and Cleo from 5 to 7 can also be purchased on DVD and other formats.  They are both worth seeing for their intelligent and strong female protagonists.

                                                                                                                                 BW.

Photo.

A potato.  If you focus on the commonplace, it becomes extraordinary.

                                                                                                       BW.