LONDON TRIP REVIEWS

March 98

Long London Theatre Weekend

Back in January I offered my son a long weekend of London theatre as a birthday present. With his wife's and his mother's blessing he accepted, and we selected the last weekend in March as our target date. We immediately agreed that Tom Stoppard's The Invention of Love was the play we most wanted to see, so I wrote ahead to the Royal National for tickets. We would select three additional plays after arriving in London. For us, going around to the theatre box offices constitutes "London shopping" at its very best! For various reasons the three additional shows turned out to be Amy's View with Judi Dench, Alan Ayckbourn's Things We Do for Love, and The Reduced Shakespeare Company at the Criterion.

If you haven't read Darren's review of "The Invention of Love," then you probably should. I have no intention of boring you by repeating what he has already said so well. Besides being a first-class play in every respect t struck me that Stoppard is saying something very important to contemporary humanity.

Stoppard gives us many examples of "invented" love throughout the play and this one, late in the play, in an imaginary dialogue between A. E. Houseman and Oscar Wilde. Wilde has been comparing his relationship with Lord Alfred "Bosie" Douglas to the mythical love between Hyacinth and Apollo. Wilde then comments "...before Plato could describe love, the loved one had to be invented. We would never love anybody if we could see past our invention."

Don't be mislead by the simple fact that Houseman had a lifelong "unrequited" relationship with the athlete Moses Jackson and that Oscar Wilde went to prison for his overt homosexuality. This is not a play about being Gay or being Straight. It is a celebration of a truth about humanity -- more specifically about human nature. It is within our nature to "invent" love objects which meet profound needs for our existence. Houseman "invented" this beautiful young runner Moses Jackson who was to him the ideal man. His admiration for Jackson undoubtedly included an erotic component. It was also true that Jackson admired Houseman on a very intimate level -- but his admiration did not include sexual release. The love between these two men was no less fulfilling. It had duration and intensity and personal value for both. Overt sexual expression within the relationship would have been disasterous. Wilde, able to see through his own blind passion for "Bosie" admits that what he had "invented" was far beyond what Lord Douglas was capable of being in his relationship to Oscar. Over and over in the play Houseman as an old man reminds us of the Sacred Band of Theban youths who died for Greek liberty at the battle of Chaeronea. The soldiers were, according to Plutarch, 150 pairs of lovers. The victorious Philip of Macedon, realizing the nature of the relationships among the slain, "...shed tears and said, whoever suspects baseness in anything these men did, let him perish."

If this allusion seems a bit "ancient Greek" and "mythical" let me report a clinical example from my own private practice. A veteran of the Korean War came to me with a severe stuttering problem. In the course of counselling he told of a fellow in his outfit, Kenny, whom he disliked. Kenny was a braggart and a bore, not anyone he would chose to go with on liberty! As fate would have it, my client was in a disasterous encounter with the Chinese communists during which every man in the outfit except he and Kenny were killed. Trapped in a machine gun nest, it was only a matter of time before he and Kenny would be either killed or captured. An extremely strong and intense bond developed between the two men which included not only absolute mutual trust but sexual intimacy as well. In my client's words "We couldn't do enough for each other." Kenny was subsequently killed and my client became a prisoner of war.

At the time when the stutterer came to me for therapy he was married with children. However, in the master bedroom was a "shrine" which included a picture of Kenny and a votive candle which burned 24 hours a day. As therapy progressed for the speech disorder and my client worked through his feelings about the dead comrade, the shrine was dismantled and he went on with his life. But his story is typical of how human beings -- no matter what their sexual orientation -- "invent" relationships to let them cope with the impossibly painful. Team athletes facing the exquisite excitement of victory/defeat develop similar relationships of sacrifice/trust/respect.

Few modern plays deal with this profound human experience more effectively than Tom Stoppard's "The Invention of Love."

Our second choice Amy's View was equally entertaining, but for different reasons. The seats we were able to get, a box just to the right of the stage, allowed to watch the play from a unique position. When you can literally reach out and touch the actors you see an entirely different production from the one planned by director Richard Eyre. If one is interested in the fine points and mechanics of stage acting and production values, this is ideal seating. The disadvantage is that if the actors let down for a moment or slide out of character for a split second the difference is jarring! During the first act Judi Dench was punching with her powerful voice as a substitute for being "in character." Perhaps it was jet lag from her trip to the Oscars in Hollywood or a reaction to the Saturday matinee audience. event, she did an about-face for the second act and was simply marvelous. Everything worked brilliantly in this very theatrical production which ran the gamut of feelings (laughter almost to tears), but which didn't really say much beyond the message of a beautifully done "soap opera." Sue Krisman's review elsewhere (along with the one by Darren Dalglish) describes "Amy's View" very well.

Alan Ayckbourn's Things We Do For Love at the Gielgud demonstrated all to clearly what a difference theatre seating makes and how the age of the viewer can affect enjoyment. The only seats available to us were in Row "H" of the Upper Circle. Generally the sight lines for a show are set for someone sitting in about Row E in the Stalls (where the critics will sit on opening night). Everybody else in the theatre takes pot luck. Sight lines are much more critical to a musical where there is dancing than for a straight play, but if you are too far away from where the director was sitting when he shaped the production you can be in trouble. One of the clever theatrical gimmicks used in this show was a third level apartment where actors could be seen only from the knees DOWN. From the stalls or the dress circle the device was both obvious and very entertaining. From the Upper Circle (especially for those who hadn't read Darren's review and didn't KNOW what to expect) it was confusing and frustrating. We talked with a couple at intermission who were terribly upset because they couldn't "see what was going on!"

There is another problem for theatre goers over age 50. When playgoers are young their eyes let in light to the retina very efficiently. You don't need much light to see clearly. By age 55 the average theatre-goer loses 50% of all light before it gets to the retina because of yellowing of the cornea, etc. Consequently, when a young lighting designer or his equally young director sets lighting at low levels for what seems to him/her a very dramatic effect, it works for the kiddies in the audience -- but is just murky gloom for the older theatre-goers. Even though "Things We Do For Love" was adequately lighted for the stalls audience, when you take a 73-year-old man and put him in the next-to-the-last row of the Upple Circle, it is like lighting a production with 10 watt bulbs. No facial details can be seen (not even with opera glasses) nor are any subtleties of body language available to the viewer. Much of the performance was lost before it ever got to my seat. It speaks well for my hearing (I am a licenced audiologist and know about such things!) that I got most of the very funny lines of the play any could enjoy the clever set and skillful stage blocking and movement of the actors. You miss much of a fine play when you sit in Row H of the Upper Circle. That is why the seats are so cheap. HINT: If you are under 35 you'll miss very little if your hearing is normal. If you are over 50 avoid those seats at all costs! And for a musical or the ballet you are much better off in STANDING ROOM in the stalls than in the upper reaches of the balconies.

For the fourth and last show of the weekend we took along our hostess who swears that the cinema is the only true art form and she NEVER goes to the theatre. THAT, my friends, is the kind of person you take to see The Reduced Shakespeare Company. Burlesque and parody has been rolling citizens in the aisles ever since the days of Aristophanes. As a former teacher of Shakespeare and World Drama I was thoroughly entertained by the wonderfully talented young trio who played all the parts in 37 plays. Seeing "Hamlet" played slow, medium, fast, frontwards, and backwards was a delight. My son who majored in theatre as an undergraduate had an equally fun time marveling at the skill and timing of the actors as well as their versatility. Our hostess who had never had any training in theatre arts and the usual distortions of "Macbeth" and "Romeo and Juliet" in school loved the slapstick, the "drag" comedy, and the music hall rowdiness of the talented youngsters. This was really theatre for all tastes and not to be missed -- especially if you are looking for live theatre on a Sunday in London.

The weekend included an additional theatrical experience which was so unique it probably should be mentioned. As a long-time fan of the monster pipe organs of the silent movie days I had contacted John Leeming of the Cinema Organ Society to see if there were any programs scheduled during our visit. Ever the gracious host, John pointed out that the ABC Cinema in Walthamstow was in the next town to where we were staying (Chingford), and that he would try to find a young theatre organist or two who would play a private mini-concert for us on the 13- rank Christie in the theatre. It would have to be Sunday morning before the matinee performance of "Titanic." I was thrilled because one of the two organists had made a recording on the magnificent instrument which I had reviewed for Theatre Organ magazine.

However, while driving to the ABC Cinema Leeming confessed that neither organist would be able to attend the private session at the theatre and if I wanted to hear the organ played I would have to be the player! Not having touched a theatre organ in four years and never having played the Walthamstow Christie I was flabberghasted! I had come to a theatre expecting to be a happy spectator -- and found myself elected to be the spectacle! We dragged the huge organ console from backstage to centerstage, John Leeming made sure everything worked, and I climbed aboard to explore its vast sea of stoptabs, pistons, and other controls. Some of them were clearly labled, some not. John quickly explained what would work and what was unique to this instrument -- instructions which I promptly forgot! Of course, my son had brought along our camcorder to capture the concert by professionals -- not by me! Consequently there is a visual record in stereophonic sound of what I attempted to do for the next 40 minutes! Actually, I must admit that the organ itself sounded magnificent, and there were moments when I was satisfied (briefly!)with what reverberated around the huge cinema. Quite honestly, if I had known in advance that a frequent nightmare of mine would become a reality (i.e., go to a concert and find myself the unprepared performer!) I would have found an excuse to be elsewhere that Sunday morning.

There were two additional bonuses related to the trip. The third person who joined us in the box at "Amy's View" was a most interesting young playwrite from New York; and we spend a fascinating three hours on Monday with our favorite drama critic of the London Theatre scene. Top THAT for an unforgettable weekend!

(March 1998 / Walter J. Beaupre, Ph.D., Professor Emeritus /
(Sadly, Walter died soon after writing this account of his trip)