The other day the 'Memsahib' and I had a row which, happily, only lasted about 37.4 seconds because that was all the time it took for me to know I was on a loser! It concerned several tons of old, not to say ancient, theatre programmes which I found at the back of a cupboard upstairs. I suggested, on the grounds that neither of us had looked at them for decades, that we bin the lot. Cue: a hard stare, narrowed eyes, pursed lips and the beginnings of what might have developed into a tirade but just in time I ran the white flag up and that was that. However, having got that far I thought I might as well plow through them to see what was there. Well, of course, what was in there were scores of memories, well there would have been if I could only remember more than about ten percentof them!
Naturally I remembered the ones that I had actually played in - well, darlings, how could anyone forget? Although, and here I must throw myself on the mercy of my regular commenter and pal, 'Miss Mayfly', for forgetting totally that she was the lights and sound operator for a production of The Second Mrs. Tanqueray by Arthur Wing Pinero in which, of course, darlings, I played the critical role of Mr. Tanqueray. (I can't help thinking that dear old Arthur would have done much better to call his play 'The Mr. Tanqueray Story' or some-such in order to emphasize the importance of that leading role!) Alas, truth be told, I can't now quite recall all the plot but I do remember being riveted to the stage on opening night when, at the emotional climax to the play, the superb actress playing my wife actually cried real tears on stage. Gobsmacked at her skill I nearly forgot my next line and asked her, 'How do you do that?" Then I remembered we had an audience!
Anyway, continuing my trip down theatrical memory lane - joy of joys! - I came across the programme for the show that brought me - for good or ill - into theater. It was the original 1978 programme from the old Mermaid Theatre for Tom Stoppard's brilliant play Every Good Boy Deserves Favour. Some years later I had the tremendous joy of directing it myself - but alas, not with the full symphony orchestra on stage as specified by Stoppard and Andre Previn, the originators of the idea. I had to 'make do'(!) with extracts from Shostakovich which, given that the play is set in a Soviet psychiatric prison for dissidents as well as loonies, was not inappropriate.
However, that still left scores of other theater programmes which either raised the dimmest glimmerings of memories - or absolutely none at all! As a theater man (albeit amateur, some would say very amateur) I feel somewhat shameful. All that effort, all that work, all that skill, all that talent - and I can't remember the first thing about any of it! Then, of course, the dreadest of dread thoughts occurred. Is there someone, somewhere, who is even now picking up a copy of the programme for The Second Mrs. Tanqueray and wondering what in hell that was all about because they can't remember it - not even my superlative performance? Oh no, say it ain't so!
