June 2012
What is theatre when the whole world is a stage? We are all spectators whether we like it or not. We see pain, joy, anger, sadness, happiness and drama all played out in front of our eyes. All of the above can be contained in the privacy of our own homes but we prefer to watch other people act out the feelings and emotions we all have at different stages in our lives.
We flock to the cinema, we go to designated buildings, be it a church hall, an outdoor area, or anywhere with a stage to see a play, a musical, a concert and other dramatic representations. We can even go to the theatre in a hospital and wait anxiously to go in for operations surrounded by busy nurses and doctors assured and confident that all will be well.
The first time I went to a proper theatre was a pantomime at the London Palladium, an outing organized by my father's employers. I can't remember much about it except it was noisy and we had to shout out, 'Its behind you!' I think we were more interested in what we had in our goodie bags. My sister who is years younger than me had her first theatre outing and came home flushed and excited and said in hushed and reverent tones, 'It was in colour!' We only had black and white television then.
The Romans knew how to put on a good show with their chariot races, the gladiators sword fighting to the death, throwing Christians to the lions etc. Well according to the films they enjoyed themselves. Jousting was a crowd pleaser also with the victor winning the fair maiden's hand. Bull fighting was a precarious and dangerous display of man over animal, or vice versa, banished in most Spanish cities as animal cruelty and no longer as popular. Drama is played out in the boxing ring with black eyes and bloodied noses to both winner and loser. The greatest arena for me is tennis at Wimbledon, and other grand slam tournaments around the world; Formula One motor racing coming a close second. So there are many forms of theatre, something for everyone, young and old, some good, some bad, but all thought provoking, and up for discussion.
Not being a regular theatre goer there must be lots of excellent performances I have missed out on. Of those I have seen some stand out more than others.
Verona is a truly wonderful place to visit, not just because of the balcony where Romeo serenaded Juliet, but the whole ambience of the city: its hustle and bustle its beautiful buildings, and myriad of churches. Every summer in the Roman Arena, almost 2000 years old, which once held the gladiatorial games, has, since 1913, been the setting for operatic performances. So there we were in the cheap seats sitting on concrete in the pouring rain not knowing if we would get to see the wonderful Aida, when, five minutes before it was due to start, the rain stopped and on to the stage came huge vacuum cleaners to swallow up the puddles, stage hands obviously used to the procedure sweeping away the excess water and, satisfied it was safe to proceed, the orchestra started up and the show began. What a show it was, the costumes fantastic, the story bewitching, the surroundings and the stars above in the darkened sky a sight to behold. And I am not a fan of opera but I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
When my daughter reached Sydney on her backpacking tour of Australia, I flew out to see her. Of course we had to go to the Opera House - what a grand building that is, stunning to say the least - so we booked to see the Australian Modern Dance Company. We got as tarted up as we could with the heat and creased clothes and, climbing the many steps, entered the building. To say I had a culture shock is the understatement of the year. Men and women were wearing shorts and t-shirts – to the theatre – unheard of then in the English theatre, where people dressed up; after all it was a special occasion for most of the populace. However the modern ballet was another first for me; the dancers twisting their bodies, weaving around each other with beautiful movements, almost defying gravity with their leaps, their bodies seemingly boneless in unbelievable positions but always graceful and a credit to their training.
My friend's cousin is a dresser and has worked with most Stars in most of the theatres in the West End. On this occasion he was working at the Palace on the production of Priscilla Queen of the Desert. We went to the Saturday matinee and it was packed, hard to believe it was the afternoon. Well, the show was a riot, I had reservations about the show but I loved it; the costumes garish, most of the songs identifiable and the colours blinding. After the performance we went for a meal, then Murray took us back to the theatre and gave us a tour backstage. Not the most salubrious of places; narrow corridors, countless staircases and, as a dresser, it means running up and down them many times during the show. He showed us the costumes; very elaborate all lined up ready and waiting for the numerous changes. Then we went onto the actual stage and saw the insides of Priscilla in all its glory but how the actors managed not to trip up with all the wires and cables lying around I don't know. Soon it was time for Murray to get ready for the evening performance so we said our goodbyes and exited stage left.