I have just been at a small piece of theatrical history. I attended “The Birthday Party” Gala performance at the Lyric Theatre in Hammersmith of Harold Pinter’s play. The London debut was at the same theatre, fifty years ago to the day – 19th May 1958. We arrived a bit early and therefore decided to sit down in a quiet corner – 10 minutes later HAROLD PINTER himself came to sit next to us. We were actually sitting next to one of the greatest living playwrights (why is it spelt like that?) of all time for about an hour before going through to the theatre. He’s a bit wobbly now and walks with a stick. I believe he is 77. He was wearing a black polo neck jumper and huge big glasses. Bizarrely, he looked just like my grandmother (although her sideburns weren’t as pronounced).
The cast included Sheila Hancock playing Meg, Justin Salinger and Nicholas Woodeson. At the end of the play he took to the stage and talked about how moved he was to be in the audience today and how the play initially was a complete flop. It closed after only eight performances. It got completely slated by the press. He told the story of arriving a bit late to see it and when he announced to the usherette that he was the author, she replied “oh, you poor darling”. One of the original punters – one of just 7 people at a matinee was there to see the play again.
I talked to his wife, Lady Antonia Fraser in the loo. There were loads of recognisable actors there – Michael Gambon, Janet Ellis, Timothy West…loads…I’m crap with names. We think Tom Stoppard was there, somebody old was saying to him “you’ve brought my wife so much pleasure over the years” …although I suppose he could have just been an ageing gigolo with lots of hair, pretending to be a famous playwright by wearing two pairs of glasses around his neck. Looking around the room there was a splendid sea of luxurious locks (and that was just the men). I have to say, just as an observation that men in the arts seem to keep their hair better than most. I wonder if anybody has done any research into this phenomenon. Do you think it could be due to the lack of testosterone one finds in “lovies”. You wouldn’t get the same aerial view at a boxer’s convention would you? Or maybe it’s just that Harold Pinter is the playwright of choice for hirsute men.
The play seems to have stood the test of time. The issues and language were just as relevant today as they were then – I just have absolutely no idea what those issues might have been. The play could have been about the establishment or the KGB or Big Brother OR it could just be about the human condition….that we can be very bad at communicating and observing in many situations and things can go on around us that we can miss…am I making sense here? No. I didn’t think so.
Main quote of the play for me was an impassioned plea from Petee, the male protagonist as his poor, gibbering wreck of a lodger was escorted to god knows where (to talk to “Monty”) was:
“Stan, DON’T LET THEM TELL YOU WHAT TO DO”.
Expatmum
May 20, 2008Coo – how amazing. I am very envious.
Tho’ I’m not a linguist, the word is “playwright” because the wright part refers to someone who works something into shape. “Wrought” as in wrought iron, means worked (ie. bent all over the place) iron. I’m sure someone else can do a better job of explaining that!
family affairs
May 20, 2008Oh, thanks, that explains it then…x
blogthatmama
May 20, 2008You lucky thing – what a night! Have you noticed that rock stars retain their flowing locks well into old age too?
GoneBackSouth
May 20, 2008That sounds like a fab evening. I hope when I’m 77 I’ll be wearing black polo necks and huge glasses and going to the theatre.
family affairs
May 20, 2008…and looking like somebody’s grandmother!
Yes rock stars are equally lacking in testosterone clearly x
the mother of this lot
May 21, 2008Are there as many silences in Pinter’s conversation as there are in his plays?
And just how pronounced were your grandmother’s sideburns?
Working mum
May 21, 2008Sometimes I think you make this stuff up, how can your life be this exciting? I went to a Pinter play once. Notice past tense and only once. Prefer Godber, but then that might be my Northernness coming through. Rambling now. Sorry. I’ll go.