Monthly Archives: May 2015

Interview With The Director: Paul Miller – part two

 

Paul Miller 2 - Mark Douet

CN As artistic director you must get a lot of submissions all the time. How do you deal with that? Is there anything you try to do to open your doors more widely, to bring people in?

PM What we’ve done in the last six months is we now put all our casting breakdowns on Spotlight, so anybody can submit things. We’ve done several days of open auditions – both at the offices of Spotlight that were organised by Equity, but we’ve also done our own here, for general meets, not for a particular play. So we feel like we’ve made good strides towards opening it up more. It’s so difficult though, because we are a small team. Just the business of putting plays on is amazingly labour-intensive and time-consuming, and it is always a matter of great anxiety that we cannot respond individually to all the submissions we get, we just don’t have the manpower. If people write in and don’t get a response, all I can say we keep everything very carefully and we do look at everything.

paul slater mail
CN Were you prepared for the level of guilt that all Artistic Directors must have?

PM I think so. The big subsidised companies have more responsibility to take care of people, and by and large tend to be quite good.

CN But it’s a balance, isn’t it? It’s a very desirable location, the Orange Tree, although it’s a very small theatre. In the past Sam [Walters, the previous artistic director] used to do plays with enormous casts, but he would always employ the same actors.

sam walters orange tree
PM He made a positive virtue of working with a sort of informal company, which I think he strongly believed in. I think it’s partly generational: for his generation of directors that was always a dream and a goal – The Company, and I think so much of what he was about was because he remembered the really good aspects of Rep, and he used that energy creatively. That’s partly why the Orange Tree exists at all.

CN There’s been no repeated casting?

PM I think in the seven productions we’ve done so far, I don’t think anybody’s come back, and that’s in part because we’ve had different directors come in, the plays have had different requirements. It’s a rhythmical thing – it seems right at the moment and in due course people will start to come back and the theatre will acquire a personality.

CN It’s an unfair profession, isn’t it, the acting profession? It’s just intrinsically unfair. There are so many people who want to do it, and so few jobs, it can never be a democracy, can it? There’s an element to it where at some level it’s like a fashion show – there are things beyond your control that are the reasons you get cast; things that make you attractive that are unquantifiable.

PM It’s true, there’s an almost feudal aspect to it, sort of like dockers queuing up in the morning to see if they’re picked to work that day.

CN In the ‘50s and ‘60s they used to go to their agents and sit outside – ‘There’s nothing for you today’.

PM Yes, it is a brutal career and that’s why people want to form companies – they do so in order to protect themselves from these sorts of iniquities. That aspect of our trade can be unhealthy and uncreative.

CN And it can’t really be changed can it?

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PM Well, like all things there are strengths and weaknesses. I have a friend who I spoke to just yesterday – he’s just done a stint at the Royal Shakespeare Company in Stratford, where he was in a new play and two Shakespeares, he’s in the process of writing an adaptation of Homer and he’s going up for a ‘Holby City’. So it’s a snapshot of a British actor’s life, who’s Doing-Quite-Nicely-Thank-You. That is an unimaginable thing for a German actor. A continental European actor doesn’t have that thing where they go from a bit of popular television, to being in Goethe, to then doing a voiceover… They have a company system, it’s all heavily subsidised, and if you are part of those subsidised companies, of which there are many, that’s what you do. And you can often see astonishingly rich, in-depth character acting in companies in Germany as a result. What they don’t have is British actors’ flexibility, pliability, ability to work in very different ways very quickly.
And that is why, in my view, British actors often do very well in America, because of that easy ability to do anything. Which is actually a product of that brutality we’re talking about – it actually produces that as an upside and thus can make American directors love working with British actors, because of that ability to go, ‘Oh, you want me do to it differently? I’ll do it like that’, whereas an American actor struggles. So I suppose there are aspects of the way we work which feel very brutal, but we also have to remember that it produces a certain liveliness which is an asset.

CN And I suppose it helps in auditions, in that you can have a casting in the morning for an advert, and a Strindberg in the afternoon, and you need to be able to turn it on for both.

PM Yes, and by and large people are very skilled at doing that.

Anthony Hopkins Alex be Brabant

CN I’ve done very little screen acting but I love it when I do, because it is so focused. I remember reading about Anthony Hopkins, who of course is the great master of screen acting, and he was talking about being able to marshal his resources so well that he was able to just switch it on; he could focus completely and just turn it on when he needed it.

PM Just the other day, a very experienced senior actress was telling me a story about her daughter, who’s just starting, and had she had done a couple of days filming – she was complaining, ‘Oh, it was terrible, I was waiting for hours and hours, the whole day I was waiting to do my little bit. It’s a disgrace!’ And her mother said, ‘No, the waiting is what you’re paid for – the acting comes for free.’

CN That’s great, I’ve never thought about it like that – the acting is the reward.
I‘ve been thinking about London. It’s an impossibly expensive place to live in. Can you conceive of a time when the media and the theatre will be spread more across the country, or will London always be the centre?

london
PM I think it’s impossible to imagine a situation when we are not, as a country, focused on London. It has such a massive history behind it, and geographically, I feel we are always going to have that with us. I notice that politically now there are these big moves to talk about Northern powerhouses, and I think that’s all great and healthy – there does seems to be a lot going on in Manchester, and I think we will see more of that; with the BBC being stationed in Salford, there’s a sense in which the centre is shifting – but I think London will always be with us. I think the general election result has given us a very vivid X-Ray of a sense in which, politically and socially, culturally, London is forming a giant bubble of its own. One of the reasons that everybody was taken by surprise by the election result is because in London we were all busy talking to ourselves, and not really realising that out there, a whole different thing has been going on. We’re entering this period now where it’s going to be very difficult to work out how the country finds a way of talking to itself.

CN And culturally, creatively, there’s no money to keep you in the profession – are we going to end up with a casting crisis for people in their late 20s and into their 30s?

PM I think there is a lot of burn off, I think that’s exactly what happens. You can see that in the proportion of people who are in Spotlight of a certain age. The people who get burned off are the people who can’t afford to pay rent in London without a stable income.

sheffield theatres
CN Is that something that regional theatres can capitalise on? Do you think there should be a shift away from the capital? You spent a lot of time in Sheffield – did you cast down in London, or did you cast in Sheffield?

PM It must be the case that 90% of Equity is based in London, so inevitably that’s where you end up casting from. There are some people based in Sheffield and they have worked in the Crucible, but it’s difficult. I can never remember the exact rules and numbers about subsistence, but if you’re in Sheffield for instance, you budget because you know you’re going to have to pay subsistence to actors who are by and large London-based, and you still have to pay if they’re Manchester-based, so there‘s no great incentive at a financial level.

CN You have a greater pool of people to cast from in London.

PM All the incentives are for you to look to London.

CN It’s terrible isn’t it – you’re told you have to live in a place that is too expensive to live in, in order to carry on working.

PM And actors face a pressure from their agents, it seems to me, to not leave London – to not go and do a play in Sheffield because you’ll be out of London for two months. ‘Imagine what will happen – if that advert came up, you wouldn’t be able to do it!’

CN I think there is a pressure to shut out parts of your life and experiences you could have had, because you’re frightened to miss the job – don’t go on holiday, don’t have a family; you can’t afford to buy a house because you can’t leave London. You shut yourself off from life experiences which might actually be detrimental to your acting.

PM It’s true, those are all dangers.

circus poster
CN Actors have always been outsiders though, haven’t they?

PM They have. It’s a conundrum, because life should be fairer, it should be better; we are artists who deserve to earn a living. There should be good conditions – you know, bad conditions don’t create good art. And yet we all, one way or another, ran away to join the circus, and having joined the circus, we love complaining about the elephant shit.

CN A suitable ending, I think. Thank you Paul.

Interview With The Director: Paul Miller – part one

Paul Miller Photo Mark Douet

Paul Miller was appointed Artistic Director of London’s Orange Tree Theatre in June 2014, as successor to founder Sam Walters. His first season has been tremendously varied and successful, with plays such as ‘The Distance’ by Deborah Bruce, George Bernard Shaw’s ‘Widowers’ Houses’ and ‘The Widowing of Mrs Holroyd’ by D H Lawrence garnering four-star-reviews and sold-out performances. The extraordinary ‘Pomona’ by Alastair McDowell recently won five Offies at the Off West End Awards, including Best New Play and Best Director (Ned Bennett), and will transfer to the National Theatre’s Temporary Theatre in September, followed by a run at the Royal Exchange Theatre in October. Paul Miller won Best Artistic Director at the Off West End Awards.

Paul was an Associate Director at Sheffield Crucible from 2009 to 2014, where his productions included ‘The Winter’s Tale’, ‘Democracy’ by Michael Frayn (which transferred to the Old Vic), and ‘Hamlet’ with John Simm.
For the National Theatre he has directed, amongst others, ‘The History Boys’ by Alan Bennett (a revival for the West End and UK tour), ‘Baby Girl’ by Roy Williams, ‘DNA’ by Dennis Kelly. He was Associate Artist at the Bush Theatre from 2005 – 2008.

When we met, Paul’s production of ‘Each His Own Wilderness’ by Doris Lessing was playing at the Orange Tree. Lessing’s powerful play is set in 1958, and sees Tony (Joel MacCormack), back from National Service disillusioned and dissatisfied, and clashing with his political activist mother Myra (Clare Holman).

Clare_Holman_in_Each_His_Own_Wilderness_Orange_Tree_Theatre_image__Richard_Hubert_Smith_press_image

CN Coming to see your show was very interesting, seeing somebody at the very beginning of their career and a number of actors who are quite established– from a director’s point of view, what difference do you notice between a young actor and a very established one – in terms of the way they approach rehearsals, for example?

Joel_MacCormack__in_Each_His_Own_Wilderness_Orange_Tree__Theatre_image_Richard_Hubert_Smith_press_image

PM Well it’s interesting, because there is a well-observed comedic thing that can happen, where the young actors arrive half an hour before rehearsals and do their warm-up and vocal exercise and they’re studiously attacking their parts, and the older, more senior actors appear to roll up without a warm-up, appear to be giving it less application. It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking in a banal way that, ‘Oh, people get lazy as they get older’. In fact what I think happens is something much more interesting: the more you apply yourself when young, something happens, almost at a physical level, which means that, a bit like a dancer, you begin to do certain things, not exactly automatically but without having to consciously press that button –

CN – Like a runner might have a very developed muscle that is specific to the task –

PM Exactly. So the older actors who roll in going, ‘Oh, I don’t know why you’re bothering with all that’, making a joke of it all, are often concealing the fact – or indeed are unaware themselves – of what they can deploy, and it’s only in them because they were like that once.

Helen Baxendale The Distance rehearsal c Helen Warner

CN So in a show like this one, where there’s a tension between young and old anyway – that’s the point of the play, in many ways – you must find that in rehearsal too?

PM All the time. It’s very relatively unusual to find oneself in a rehearsal room with a group of people who all of similar age. That’s one of the attractive things about our business, that we routinely work with a lot of people of different backgrounds and ages – that’s not always true in the more ordinary world of work. But that is part of the job of directing: to create a room that will contain, without over-controlling, a lot of people with different approaches. I’ve noticed that some young actors come out of three years where they’ve spent all the time with people of their own age and at their own stage of development, and it can be disconcerting to find yourself in a rehearsal room where you’re doing your thing and other people appear to not be doing your thing. There can be some heavy duty grinding of gears as people have to try and work out how to work with an actor who’s a bit older than them, and who isn’t so actively engaged with the process.

Pomona

CN And similarly in the opposite direction, I’ve been in rehearsals where older actors have become quite frustrated with younger ones applying a method very deliberately, and which sometimes gets in the way of the work. But then that’s the director’s job isn’t it?

PM Yes, that is part of the director’s job, to hold that all together – hopefully in a creative tension, rather than simply a sort of deadlock.

CN So you have to find a different language to speak to each actor?

PM Yes, I think so, or help people to understand each other.

Ellie Piercy The Widowing of Mrs Holroyd photo Mark Douet

CN Do you try and get them to speak your language?

PM Well, I think some directors tackle this aspect of things by forcefully introducing a whole new dimension, which is them, their method, so the rehearsal room becomes about their artistic personality. That can solve the problem because both the young actor with his industrious process and the older actor with apparently no process at all are subsumed into this whole new thing. That’s not my thing, or at least I don’t feel that’s what I do. I think I tend to find myself doing plays where actually one wants to find the difference in people and somehow hold them together.

john dexter photo louis melancon

CN There’s the great John Dexter tradition that we all fear as actors – walking into the room and finding the despot, with the suggestion that often the director will isolate the weakest… There are many bad stories about directors that actors share. And I wonder where that comes from?

PM I wonder. Of course one of the weirdnesses about being a director is that, after a certain point in your working life, you have no idea what goes on really in anybody else’s rehearsal room, except by hearsay. So one can easily have a distorted impression of what’s going on out there, but I feel as if that John Dexter stuff has largely gone away – I think the culture doesn’t permit that stuff any more. I think that out-and-out, ‘Why are you f***ing doing that? You’re a hopeless actor!’ – I feel like that’s gone, and perhaps been replaced by more subtle problems.
I feel that, by and large, it’s a much more democratic process. If there are problems with a younger generation individually, it might not come from being tyrants in the old model, but maybe people going, ‘You’re not obeying the rules! My method’s not being followed and therefore it’s all wrong.’

CN It’s quite a different experience to an actor going from one rehearsal room to another, one director to another. You’re in isolation in your career – you don’t have the influences that actors have on your working method, so you have to develop your own. I suppose a lot of your method comes from people you assisted at the start of your career?

PM Yes, I think inevitably you see how a rehearsal room works from those people – or doesn’t work. I think a great danger is if you assist people you find very compelling when you’re at a formative stage, you try to work out who you are by imitating them, and that can be a rather an unhappy period to go though.

Patrick Drury as Sartorius with Simon Gregor as Lickcheese in Widowers' Houses

CN You didn’t act at all?

PM At school, but not in any way professionally.

CN But you didn’t feel the bite – you weren’t torn in two directions?

PM No. Somehow or other, I decided I wanted to direct at 17, which is probably unhealthily early…

CN A lot of actors give up and become directors, and a lot of them keep the two strands going at the same time; do you feel it’s useful?

PM Actors who direct?

CN Or for directors to have some experience at acting – or do you think it’s a very different discipline?

PM Well, one of the benefits to being an actor who then turns to directing after a certain amount of time is that, unlike my experience, they will have had years in a lot of different directors’ rehearsal rooms, and so have perspective on what directing can be. I’m often amused at how relatively unsentimental actors-turned-directors are about actors. They can often be the hardest taskmasters, in my experience.

CN When I spoke to Joe Harmston about this – he has never acted – he thinks it hinders actor-directors because they don’t have sympathy; if they can see how to do it, they can’t understand why another actor can’t.

PM I’m sure that’s possible, though someone like Daniel Evans has taken to directing brilliantly and is still acting – I don’t feel he has fallen into that trap. If you’re really good at it you don’t.

daniel evans

CN Do you remember performances that made you think, ‘Oh wow, I want to make that happen’ – specific actors?

PM I tell you a performance that really did always stick with me – I was lucky enough to be at the University of Ulster at Coleraine when Yvonne Bryceland came – the great South African actress who, with her husband Brian Astbury, had run a theatre in South Africa.

yvonne bryceland

She was a long-term collaborator with Athol Fugard, and she recreated a production of a play called ‘People Are Living There’ by Fugard. She played a woman running a shabby boarding house on the night of her 50th birthday, and – typical Fugard – the play had a very simple action to it, and revolved around one moment: she had this speech about turning 50, just as the clock was striking midnight, and her unhappiness and disappointment in life, this terrible boyfriend that we never see; remembering herself as a little girl and saying, ‘There were promises, there were promises’. It was highly realistic acting, yet also with a kind of magnetism and a sense of emotional size to it. I can still see and hear her, and I thought she was a remarkable creature.

CN Are there actors you would like to work with that you see on the stage today?

Penelope Wilton

PM I think Penelope Wilton has a lot of what I described about Yvonne Bryceland actually – everything always truthful and drawn from life, and yet with this sense of an enormous emotional landscape behind it. It would be wonderful to work with someone like that.

Coming in Part Two, Paul talks casting, London and Artistic Director’s Guilt…

Reach for the stars?

George Lazenby

Here’s a nice little story for you. When George Lazenby heard that Cubby Broccoli and Harry Saltzman were looking for a new actor to play James Bond, he didn’t hang about. He bought the same watch as 007, had his hair cut by the same barber as Cubby Broccoli, bought a Savile Row suit that Sean Connery had forgotten to collect from his tailor, and then blagged his way into an audition. Lazenby believed he could get the part, and sure enough, he got it.

I, too, once believed I would become the next James Bond, and I kitted myself out in much the same way – the right gun, the right haircut – I even had the bow tie. All right, I was 10 years old, but the level of determination was identical.

Tom Baker toothyluke_anh2colt

Somehow it didn’t work out for me, or at least, it hasn’t yet… But back then I certainly thought it could, or at least I could conceive of no impediment to stop it happening. In those happy days I had no notion of casting – that I might be seen as a specific ‘type’. For years, as I leapt about my bedroom practising my super-spy moves, I assumed that whatever parts I hankered after (Dr Who, Luke Skywalker, Colt Seavers from The Fall Guy), the world would cheerfully allow me to play. What I didn’t realise, of course, was that at the same time there were hundreds of other little actors all nursing the same ambitions.

Now there is nothing unusual about a 10-year-old having unrealistic expectations. Children down the years have dreamed of being explorers, footballers, astronauts, and this is only right and proper. After all, what did I know of the real world, my head filled as it was with nothing but Monster Munch and the theme song to ‘For Your Eyes Only’? But sooner or later the scales fell from my eyes and I was hit with a cold realisation that there was no automatic route to my dream destination. Sure, I made it into the acting profession, but gradually my aspirations were tempered by experience. I left drama school and my agent cast me out into the profession to see if anyone bit. I was certainly nibbled a little, but the really big fish swam on by. And so I learned to set my sights lower.

Mine is a familiar story. Many actors eventually come to accept that life won’t all be artistic satisfaction and hefty paycheques, and so we recalibrate our attitude to the profession and our place in the ranking.

But is this the only way? If I had held onto those childhood ambitions more tightly, might I have got further by now? After all, acting is so precarious, is it really any better to have a realistic attitude? If you put a limit on your ambitions, perhaps that means you also limit your imagination. Maybe it is actually the dreamers, the ones who keep their expectations unreasonably high, who reach the heights. Maybe the dreamers make better actors, because they are freer – they place no lid on what they think they can achieve in an audition, in a scene, in their career. If you admit no obstacle, don’t accept or acknowledge the existence of obstacles, maybe when you meet resistance it doesn’t have such a damaging or limiting effect on your career. If, as William Goldman puts it, ‘nobody knows anything’, why believe someone who says you can’t do something?

Stephanie_Beacham

I once worked with a very famous actress. She’d had a successful career in films and TV in the States, and had by this point settled comfortably into the role of Grande Dame of the theatre. But she told me about the time in the early 70s when her career had been flagging and the parts she had been playing had begun to shrink. So, she said, ‘I simply decided to become a star. It was as though my whole being underwent a cellular change’. Her career took off and it was Name-Above-The-Title all the way. At least, that’s how she remembered it. This degree of self-determination is mightily impressive, although of course it probably helped that she was tremendously beautiful. But is it really possible? Could I just change my mind overnight, decide to be a leading man and actually achieve it? Is it really as simple as that?

The flip-side of this attitude is the cliché of the pushy actor. Perhaps all those big stars have got where they are because they’re just horrendous, egocentric bullies. An inflated sense of entitlement can lead to a disregard for others, and I’m sure we can all bring examples to mind of badly-behaved actors – mentioning no Batmen, of course…

batman

But it must be true that the monkey who gets the banana is the one who climbs the tree, and not the one who stays on the ground playing with his tail. Or, to put it another way, if you want to reach the stars, you have a far greater chance of getting there if you make the leap, than you do if you stay on the ground. Obsess too much, allow thoughts of failure – or fear of success – to hold you back, and very soon, a whole career has flown by.

1 - The Tree

I might not actually get to play James Bond (or Colt Seavers, for that matter) but I have slowly learned that if I adopt a positive, optimistic attitude to the profession, and don’t allow myself to be put off when things don’t go my way, then I often find myself being led in a more interesting direction.

Ask yourself: ‘What would George Lazenby do?’

kilt