Michael Billington wonders if the directors are more interested in gimmicks than the plays’ texts.
Recently, Sir David Hare raised a theatrical storm, bitterly attacking the cult of concept-driven directors whose cavalier treatment of classic texts is ‘beginning to infect British theatre’. Instantly, this produced a set of polarised reactions. On the one hand, a lot of people, many of them young, praised the rise of creative directors; others sighed wistfully for an age in which actors and writers called the shots.
Personally, I think the whole issue needs a more nuanced response. I have some sympathy with Sir David’s argument. I have also noticed how many young British directors seek to imitate their continental counterparts by treating texts as a springboard for their own fevered imagination. At the same time, the British theatre in my lifetime has benefited hugely from the vision of pioneering directors such as Joan littlewood, Peter Brook and tyrone Guthrie. Between them, they changed our notion of what a play could be, revitalised classic texts and even reconfigured our stages: the crucible in Sheffield and the chichester Festival theatre both owe a big debt to Guthrie’s tireless campaign against the proscenium arch.
Where does that leave us today? My own view is that you have to view each production on its merits rather than taking a hard dogmatic line. take the work of the Belgian director Ivo van Hove, who is a god to some and a devil to others. I know that his production of Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler—running at the national until March 21—has almost given some people a seizure, yet I thought his modern-dress production, with Ruth Wilson’s Hedda roaming the stage clad in what I dubbed a Freudian slip, caught perfectly the heroine’s demonism, despair and helpless entrapment in a loveless marriage.
Denne historien er fra February 15 2017-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra February 15 2017-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Kitchen garden cook - Apples
'Sweet and crisp, apples are the epitome of autumn flavour'
The original Mr Rochester
Three classic houses in North Yorkshire have come to the market; the owner of one inspired Charlotte Brontë to write Jane Eyre
Get it write
Desks, once akin to instruments of torture for scribes, have become cherished repositories of memories and secrets. Matthew Dennison charts their evolution
'Sloes hath ben my food'
A possible paint for the Picts and a definite culprit in tea fraud, the cheek-suckingly sour sloe's spiritual home is indisputably in gin, says John Wright
Souvenirs of greatness
FOR many years, some large boxes have been stored and forgotten in the dark recesses of the garage. Unpacked last week, the contents turned out to be pots: some, perhaps, nearing a century old—dense terracotta, of interesting provenance.
Plants for plants' sake
The garden at Hergest Croft, Herefordshire The home of Edward Banks The Banks family is synonymous with an extraordinary collection of trees and shrubs, many of which are presents from distinguished friends, garnered over two centuries. Be prepared to be amazed, says Charles Quest-Ritson
Capturing the castle
Seventy years after Christian Dior’s last fashion show in Scotland, the brand returned under creative director Maria Grazia Chiuri for a celebratory event honouring local craftsmanship, the beauty of the land and the Auld Alliance, explains Kim Parker
Nature's own cathedral
Our tallest native tree 'most lovely of all', the stately beech creates a shaded environment that few plants can survive. John Lewis-Stempel ventures into the enchanted woods
All that money could buy
A new book explores the lost riches of London's grand houses. Its author, Steven Brindle, looks at the residences of plutocrats built by the nouveaux riches of the late-Victorian and Edwardian ages
In with the old
Diamonds are meant to sparkle in candlelight, but many now gather dust in jewellery boxes. To wear them today, we may need to reimagine them, as Hetty Lintell discovers with her grandmother's jewellery
