Robert McCrum explores the elusive Samuel Beckett’s astonishing literary career through rare audio tape recordings from the Samuel Beckett Research Centre at the University of Reading.

Housed in the unlikely spot of the Museum of English Rural Life, Beckett – the lifelong outsider – would have enjoyed the absurdity of finding his archives next to dairy farming data and combine harvester records. As a result, perhaps not unintentionally, Beckett’s tapes have remained here as a well-kept secret.

Many of the tapes are interviews recorded by Beckett’s friend, the scholar James Knowlson, while he was researching an official biography. The interviews they contain reveal fascinating insights into the way Samuel Beckett worked closely and collaboratively with his actors and friends – including Sian Phillips, Paul Daneman, Billie Whitelaw and Harold Pinter – and the respect they showed for him in return.

Taking Krapp’s Last Tape as inspiration for this programme, Robert tells the story of the Samuel Beckett archive at Reading and invites surviving collaborators, friends and those who have found inspiration in Beckett’s work – including Tom Stoppard, Edna O’Brien, Sian Phillips, Lisa Dwan, Lady Antonia Fraser and James Knowlson – to listen to extracts from the tapes and reflect on his unique method and the expression of his genius.

Robert aims to gain new insight into the mind of one of the 20th century’s literary giants, while bringing out the poignancy and nostalgia involved in revisiting memories and life-events through the tapes.

Produced by Melissa FitzGerald
A Blakeway production for BBC Radio 4


(Laura Collins-Hughes’s article appeared in The New York Time, 8/8; via Pam Green.)

With plays and musicals folding left and right, Broadway stars impart wisdom they gained when it happened to them.

On Broadway, summer is an unforgiving season: that time, post-Tony Awards, when shows fold in large numbers. With a half-dozen closures coming right up — some productions that failed to catch on, others that enjoyed long or commercially successful runs — that means a lot of jobs vanishing, too. For people who work in the industry, endings are part of theater’s cycle of life, a hazard to navigate.

Now, we’re not monsters. We’re not going to ask anyone who is about to be out of work to look on the bright side. But we did ask seven Broadway actors — all in current hits, but all with outright flops in their past — to tell us: What’s the best thing that ever happened to you because a show closed early? Their answers were a mix of practical savvy, glass-half-full gratitude and epiphanic philosophy.

Here are edited and condensed excerpts from those conversations.

Patrick Page

Currently playing Hades in “Hadestown”
Mr. Page played Rufus R. Buckley in “A Time to Kill” (2013)

For me, it’s always been a job that I didn’t expect that I then really, really love. When “A Time to Kill” closed, that made me available for “Casa Valentina.” At the stage door of “Casa Valentina,” frequently people would say, “I loved ‘A Time to Kill.’ I was sorry that that closed so early,” and I said, “If it hadn’t closed so early, you wouldn’t be seeing me in this.” It has to be a deep, core fundamental belief that whatever it is you are not doing, you’re not doing for a reason — that something awaits you. You have to have that somewhere inside you, or you simply couldn’t take the number of nos that you’re going to get. You have to understand that the nos are clearing the way.

(Read more)


Listen on BBC Radio 3

Imagine where we’d be without Shakespeare’s plays. It’s difficult to contemplate now. But it was thanks to another man that many of them were brought to life. 

Today, Richard Burbage is a not a household name. But he should be. He’s the man for whom many of the great Shakespearean roles were created. One of the founding members of the Lord Chamberlain’s Men, playing at the newly built Globe in 1599, he’s one of the foundations upon which British theatre was built. Andrew Dickson talks to leading actors, rummages among the archives and dissects some of the greatest parts in acting to discover Burbage’s crucial role – and realises that without Richard Burbage, there could be no Shakespeare.

Producer: Penny Murphy


(Gemma Tipton’s article appeared in the Irish Times, 7/27.)

Company reflects on decades of casting spells and pushing the envelope with its productions

It’s fascinating how the same set of words can have so many different meanings. I’m sitting in on rehearsals for Rough Magic’s forthcoming production of Much Ado About Nothing. Clare BarrettMaeve Fitzgerald and Venetia Bowe are trying out a scene; drawing nuances of emphasis and feelings from Shakespeare’s comedy of love and misunderstanding. When I arrived, Fitzgerald and Barrett were playing swingball on a set that may or may not feature in the final production.

“It helps us learn our lines,” says Barrett, possibly only half joking. Either way, it’s a good metaphor for the quick-witted banter that makes Shakespeare’s lighter writing so sparkling. In the sports hall that’s doubling up as a rehearsal room, sketches for costumes are tacked to the wall and there’s a chocolate cake, gently melting on a table. This latter isn’t a prop, it’s Fitzgerald’s birthday and there have been some tasty celebrations.

They settle down to work. “Let’s not feel any obligation to make things easy for people,” says director Ronan Phelan, as he nudges the action away from the possibly obvious, and into the rich humanity that is why Shakespeare’s plays have endured. He’s not talking about over-complicating, just digging a little deeper. For someone who had the playwright’s infinite variety sucked out in school, it’s a revelation.

Like Shakespeare, although not quite so long-lived, Rough Magic have also endured. Celebrating 35 years this year, and with two productions in preparation for the Kilkenny Arts Festival, as well as the premiere of Marina Carr’s new work, Hecuba, there are few signs of a desire to rest on laurels, or otherwise take it easy. But what does it take to survive through a generation of upheaval, boom and recession? What has changed in the world of Irish theatre, and how do you stay fresh, and relevant, year after year?

(Read more)

Photo: Irish Times


(Frank Gagliano is a playwright who has held many positions in the world of theatre, including being the Artistic Director of Carnegie Mellon’s Showcase of New Plays and the Benedum Professor of Playwriting, West Virginia University.)

The first time I met Hal, composer Claibe Richardson and I were in the Prince office in Rockefeller Center to audition our musical, From The Bodoni County Songbook Anthology. While waiting for Claibe, I recall slowly panning a wall of legendary Broadway productions that Hal had either produced and/or directed (up to that time)—including, West Side Story, Fiddler On The Roof, Cabaret, Sweeney Todd, and thinking that the only other wall at the time that could equal it would be the office wall of legendary Broadway producer David Merrick (Hello Dolly, 42nd Street).

I recall an upright piano in Hal’s office and might have asked him if Stephen Sondheim or Kander and Ebb had played their new scores on it. Hal listened to the Bodoni County score and was generous, professional—and encouraging.  Later, in my office at West Virginia University, I got a call from Hal—from Venice, Italy.  He thought he had a venue for Bodoni. I met him again here in Pittsburgh, at the William Penn Hotel. He was here to get an award.  I was then the Artistic Director of The Carnegie Mellon “Showcase of New Plays,” and cheekily invited Hal to direct a play by one of our emerging playwrights.  He graciously declined.

I last saw him and his lovely wife Judy on 5th Avenue on my way to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  I recall the moment, because I told him the sad news that Claibe was not well, and dying.  He liked Claibe.  He liked Claibe’s work.

At some point, Hal called me and asked if I’d be interested in trying to write a new book for the legendary Harold Arlen/Johnny Mercer musical of the 1940s, St. Louis Women.  He loved that score.  I tried, but I could never (sigh) find a way into that book.

Over the years we’d correspond. I sent him a copy of my novel, Anton’s Leap,  that he read on one of his European trips; to Germany, as I recall. Liked it. Said it was very sexy.

I had hoped to get into NYC to see The Prince Of Broadway. He wrote me that the show had a limited run but they were interested in extending it. I never made it.

My favorite musical of all time is, A Little Night Music. I saw Hal’s glorious production of it during its initial run. Something about that production has stayed in some deep, bitter-sweet, emotional-memory part of me.

Cliché, I know—but true, nonetheless: The Golden Age of the American Musical can be defined, in part, by the theatre life span of Harold Prince—and that wall in his office.

Another cliché: We will never see Hal Prince’s like again. But what a life! What a legacy! What a marvelous human being. My sympathies to Daughter Daisy and the Prince family. RIP Hal.



(Laura Cappelle’s article appeared in The New York Times,  8/2; via Pam Green.)

Despite a history stretching to 1934, it feels like a David to the art exhibition’s Goliath. but its program is all the better for that.

VENICE — What if David, the biblical hero who defeats Goliath, were a gay teenager with a taste for vogueing? The Italian director Giovanni Ortoleva makes the case for reinvention in “Saul,” a new play presented at the Venice Theater Biennale — but the character is also a metaphor for the entire festival, which concludes on Sunday.

While Venice has had a Theater Biennale since 1934, it still feels like a David to the Art Biennale’s Goliath. Misleadingly, the juggernaut contemporary art exhibition is regularly referred to as “the Venice Biennale,” but this city is actually awash with Biennales. Theater is a yearly fixture along with dance and music, while the art and architecture events happen every other year. Yet the performing arts’ presence remains more discreet.

It may be a blessing in disguise. This year’s lineup was blissfully free of the same old star directors who headline many international theater festivals. Antonio Latella, who has been at the event’s helm since 2017, appears more interested in theater-makers who fly below the radar. His first edition featured only female directors, and, in keeping with this year’s theme, “Dramaturgies,” the Golden Lion award for lifetime achievement went to a dramaturge, Jens Hillje, the co-director of Berlin’s Maxim Gorki Theater.

(Read more)



Chris Bowlby travels with Tony Harrison to Prague, to discover how one of Britain’s best known poets was shaped by the cultural energy and tragedy of 1960s Czechoslovakia. Harrison reads from his Prague poems in the locations where they were written. And he relives with Czech friends stories of cafes and cartoons, sex and surveillance and the hope and despair of a people fighting Soviet tanks and secret police with words, plays and tragic self-sacrifice.


By Bob Shuman

Historians, looking back at contemporary American theatre, will have to evaluate whether our stages were reflections of society or partisan distortions. Were our artists “living in the truth,” as former Czech president Václav Havel would ask, or were they politically motivated, sold out, blindsided, outfinanced, or unable to speak due to silencing opinion-makers, the market, or even Google, facebook, or twitter.  A work like Rob Ackerman’s Dropping Gumballs on Luke Wilson, from The Working Theater, which played off-Broadway, during June and July, sees America’s employed as powerless and compliant–and the boss as original and supremely intelligent, even while he demonstrates only basic knowledge.  In Christopher Shinn’s Dying City, which ran at Second Stage this spring and summer, the highlight is the storytelling, although the characters are types—the smart, contemporary woman, the sensitive, uncloseted gay actor, and the disturbed soldier—all meeting progressive expectations.  What audiences may not be questioning, though, is to what degree the arts in the U.S. are really free—and this is where a writer like Havel, whose rarely performed Vanek plays (three of them here, of four; banned during communism), are now running at PTP/NYC (Potomac Theatre Project) until August 4, alongside two short pieces by Beckett and Pinter, in Havel: The Passion of Thought.  Even if most Americans can not know the horror of life in Czechoslovakia, in the last century, one of the short plays in the evening, a two-hander called “Protest” is a pros-and-cons checklist for the conscience, universally true for anyone who must challenge authority, in any of its guises–or even only intends to send a tweet.  America itself has powerful censoring mechanisms, despite the First Amendment, strongly expressed in 1978 by Russian Nobelist and Soviet labor camp survivor, Alexander Solzhenitsyn, whom Thomas Farnan, in Human Events, reminds us, wrote that the media, Western news reporting,  “[endorses] ‘fashionable trends of thought and ideas’ while suppressing ‘independent-minded people from giving their contribution to public life.’” Solzhenitsyn was severely criticized—in fact, told to go back where he came from, like “the Squad” today–but his observation regarding “fashionable trends of thought and ideas” is essential when thinking about American arts.


“The Protest” is set in Prague, outside a lovely garden home, marked by flowering magnolias and gladiolas–in thirty-two shades–of a television and film writer (played robustly by Danielle Skraastad), who admits that she is “pushing fifty.” She must make a decision on bold action, regarding a court decision, thinking aloud to an old theatrical friend, a dissident (a non-judging David Barlow): “When the rest of us want to do something of ordinary human decency, we automatically turn to you as though you were some sort of agency for the conduct of moral matters.  Perverse, isn’t it? Sickening, isn’t it?”  Her choice is to regain her self-esteem, lost freedom, and honor, even if it means losing her job—or to continue living on “the path of accommodation” and “shameful compromise.”  She realizes that she must be made an example of, and punished cruelly, if she chooses the first option.  She would be the bad conscience of people who do not act, and who will smear her, ultimately thinking her decision stupid, nothing more.  The dilemma is not simply Eastern European, of course, and must be made not only by the accommodating characters in Dropping Gumballs on Luke Wilson (also set in the television industry), but also in other contexts, such as teachers’ rooms in academia, validating disproven conclusions on Darwin’s theory, for example, the Hollywood of #MeToo, and at publishers and theatre companies, among various jobs throughout the country, adherent to the common wisdom, as opposed to critical, independent thinking.

“Interview” may remind of Chekhov’s short story, “Misery,” where the need to express thoughts, explain oneself, becomes so urgent that the central character begins confiding in a least likely figure.  In Chekhov, this is a horse.  In Havel’s short play, the character is Vanek, who is asked to inform on himself.  Havel’s plays can have elements of absurdism—as they drink and munch peanuts–but he is not whimsical, and his writing can even sound like O’Neill’s realism. It is not lost on viewers, at Atlantic Stage 2, that the playwright does not advocate socialism, part of the current U.S. national debate (what other son of a builder do you know who does not advocate socialism and became president of his country?).  Havel’s characters are bored and drunk, living futile lives, without work ethic and devoid of meaning: “What about me?” says the crass, tormented brewmaster (Michael Laurence), “I’m only good enough to be the shit on which your fucking principles can grow so you can be a goddamn hero. . . . You’re gonna show off  . . .  about the way you handled barrels in a brewery! But what about me?  What can I go back to?  Huh? What future have I got?  What?”  In the plays, Havel works full circle—climax and catharsis always lead back to stagnation, point zero; contradiction (Vanek, for example, is expected to make friends but not become “chummy”) and repetition. The characters can never progress psychologically, much less spiritually, which they appear to want to do, even if they can only make pretense to commercial mimicry.

In “Private View” a couple (Christopher Marshall and Emily Kron) looks toward the West for its cues on everyday life, such as food, art, sex, parenting, and purchase of consumer goods.  The ideas have not grown organically out of their own culture, however, and the characters come across as earnest and empty fakes.  Although the PTP/NYC season 2019 centers on four writers, known for their contributions to the subject of human rights, the chief among them are Havel and Tom Stoppard, both of Czech origin (although Stoppard, for much of his life, has been a British citizen).  In “Private View,” the playwright most invoked, in Havel’s one act, is Ionesco, another Eastern European (in this case, from Romania, who settled in France).  Students and readers can sometimes not understand why artists will speak figuratively–in symbol, for example (a rhinoceros) or metaphor (a cabaret to represent Nazi Germany—the sad news of the death of Hal Prince has just been announced), instead of being direct and exposing the thing itself.  The explanation is usually, “Because it would be too painful”; another reason may that it is too dangerous.  The Vanek plays may seem to talk around what’s really going in a Communist satellite fifty years ago, which had led  PTP’s Co-Artistic Director Richard Romagnoli, in 1991, to add two further short plays in creating Havel: The Passion of Thought, by Pinter and Beckett.  Yet, even so, you may be able to hear the screaming: “Life is hard and the world is divided. Our country has been written off by everybody, nobody’s going to help us, we’re in a very bad way, and it’s only going to get worse–and you can’t change it!”

Pinter’s sobering play, “The New World Order,” takes the audience into a torture room, where assumptions are dismantled, as a hooded man listens to his captor’s threats, spoken as banalities: “He hasn’t got any idea at all of what we’re going to do to him.” Although the assassins are about as bored as the brewery workers in “Interview”—in fact, one seems to maliciously echo the brewmaster’s monologue in Havel’s play: “Before he came here he was a big shot, he never stopped shooting his mouth off”—the leader explains that they are “keeping the world safe for democracy.”  Beckett’s play, “Catastrophe,” actually written in honor of Havel—a work in which Pinter had also played as an actor–has especial bite and edge at PTP/NYC (the consummate direction for the Havel evening is by Richard Romagnoli).  The play (here, the speaking roles are, nontraditionally, played by two women, Madeline Ciocci and Emily Ballou, whose forward-march pacing give the play a fascist edge)–seems to be questioning how the media distorts—and makes fashionable–human rights’ victims—Havel and Solzhenitsyn, for examples, and Natalia Kaliada and Nikolai Khalezin, from Belarus Free Theatre, and Maria Alyokhina and Nadezhda Tolokonnikova of Pussy Riot, to only begin a listing—who might say that what they were doing had nothing to do with becoming celebrities.

Although this review is being finished, at the end of July, during the second night of the Detroit Democratic debates, it should be mentioned that people can be fearful of socialism, despite its current fashionableness in the United States. One need only look at Sir Tom Stoppard’s Dogg’s Hamlet (known for its 15-minute rendition of Hamlet) and Cahoot’s Macbeth, probably a director’s nightmare (ably undertaken here by Cheryl Faraone), a complicated mosaic of different languages (Early Modern English, Modern English, as well as one the playwright has completely made up), utilizing a large cast. Additionally, as if a new society is being constructed during the plays, there are different settings and shifting set pieces, including huge, brutalist alphabet blocks, created for a Stalinist era (the design is by Mark Evancho; the three costume designers for the evenings are Glenna Ryer, Chris Romagnoli, and Rebecca Lafon;  and Hallie Zieselman designed the lighting). Amit Prakash, visiting assistant professor, Middlebury College,  has written, “In a society dominated by ideology, words are completely untethered from their meanings, shared human experience is always up for debate, and truth is as evasive as a hunted animal.”

Stoppard seems to see dislocation and language reconstruction as occurring due to changing ideology, and these plays appear to be giving a Stoppardian mirror image of Czechoslovakia, during the 1970s and 1980s (Ed Berman, who worked with the playwright at Almost Free Theatre in London, has also been consulted for Potomac Theater Project’s Stoppard plays). Although based on Shakespeare, the work is also influenced by Beckett, Havel, Wiggenstein, Pavel Kohout, detective novels, Ionesco, and the Theatre of the Absurd, to start.  One setting for Cahoots Macbeth is a home, which can seem unusual, given that plays are being performed there, instead of at a theatre.  Faraone writes, “forbidden to practice their art in public, one survival strategy (for artists, in Czechoslovakia) became performing Shakespeare in ‘apartment theatre.’” Such playing areas affirm what Kaliada has said, in interviews about stagings in another Eastern European country, Belarus (performances are given in apartments or at birthdays or weddings, to elude authorities).  Havel discusses how to evade them in “The Protest”–by hiding in a department store:  “You mingle with the crowd, then at the moment when they aren’t looking, you sneak into the bathroom and wait for about two hours. They become convinced you managed to sneak off through a side entrance and give up.”

What happens if you are caught?  Stoppard’s detective/government inspector (Tara Giordano, in a trench coat) explains:  “I must warn you that anything you say will be taken down and played back at your trial.”

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The Atlantic Stage 2 is accessible from the A, C, E, L trains to 14 St./8 Ave. or the 1, 2, 3 trains to 14 St.

 © by Bob Shuman.  All rights reserved.  Production photos: Stan Barouh.

Press: David Gibbs, DARR Publicity

The cast for HAVEL: THE PASSION OF THOUGHT includes David Barlow (PTP: No End of Blame, Victory, The Castle), Emily Kron (PTP: The Europeans, Sweet Tooth at Cherry Lane), Michael Laurence (Broadway: Talk Radio, Desire Under the Elms, NBC’s “Shades of Blue”), Christopher Marshall (PTP: The Possibilities, The After-Dinner Joke, Pity In History), Danielle Skraastad (Broadway: All My Sons, Hurricane Diane with Women’s Project & NYTW, The Architecture of Becoming with Women’s Project), Emily Ballou and Madeline Ciocci (PTP: The After-Dinner Joke).

The production team for HAVEL: THE PASSION OF THOUGHT includes Mark Evancho (Set Design), Hallie Zieselman (Lighting Design), Glenna Ryer (Costume Design), Sam Tompkins Martin (Props Design), Peter B. Schmitz and Adam Milano (Movement) and Devin Wein (Production Stage Manager).

The cast for DOGG’S HAMLET, CAHOOT’S MACBETH includes Matthew Ball (PTP: Pity In History, Pentecost), Denise Cormier (Broadway national tour The Graduate, Showtime’s “The Affair”), Tara Giordano (PTP: The After-Dinner Joke, Vinegar Tom, Serious Money), Christo Grabowski (PTP: The After-Dinner Joke, Pity In History, No End of Blame), Christopher Marshall (PTP: The Possibilities, The After-Dinner Joke, Pity In History), Peter B. Schmitz (PTP: Lovesong of the Electric Bear, Therese Raquin), Lucy Van Atta (PTP: The After-Dinner Joke, Serious Money, Spatter Pattern), Olivia Christie (PTP: Brecht on Brecht), Will Koch, Emily Ma, Katie Marshall, Madeleine Russell (PTP: The After-Dinner Joke, The Possibilities), Lior Selve, Zach Varicchione and Connor Wright (PTP: Pity In History).

The production team for DOGG’S HAMLET, CAHOOT’S MACBETH includes Mark Evancho (Set Design), Hallie Zieselman (Lighting Design), Chris Romagnoli (Costume Design Dogg’s Hamlet), Rebecca LaFon (Costume Design Cahoot’s Macbeth), Sam Tompkins Martin (Props Design), Peter B. Schmitz and Adam Milano (Movement) and Alex Williamson (Production Stage Manager).


Mandatory Credit: Photo by Richard Drew/AP/Shutterstock (6529474b)
Hal Prince, Harold Prince Harold Prince holds his Tony award at Broadway’s Minskoff Theater in New York, . Prince won the best director in a musical for “Show Boat,” the lavish production of the landmark Jerome Kern-Oscar Hammerstein II musical
Tonys Hal Prince, New York, USA

(Mark Kennedy’s article appeared on the AP,  7/31.)

NEW YORK (AP) — Harold Prince, a Broadway director and producer who pushed the boundaries of musical theater with such groundbreaking shows as “The Phantom of the Opera,” ″Cabaret,” ″Company” and “Sweeney Todd” and won a staggering 21 Tony Awards, has died. Prince was 91.

Prince’s publicist Rick Miramontez said Prince died Wednesday after a brief illness in Reykjavik, Iceland.

Prince was known for his fluid, cinematic director’s touch and was unpredictable and uncompromising in his choice of stage material. He often picked challenging, offbeat subjects to musicalize, such as a murderous, knife-wielding barber who baked his victims in pies or the 19th-century opening of Japan to the West.

(Read more)



Listen on BBC Radio 3 

Vladimir Mayakovsky was THE poet of the Russian Revolution. A revolutionary in his personal life as well as in his art, Mayakovsky sought to overthrow traditional practices and became the spokesperson for a radical new society. But the tensions and demands of speaking on behalf of the state would take its toll. In 1930 a nation went into mourning when Mayakovsky took a pistol and shot himself through the heart. Ian Sansom has been reading Mayakovsky since he was a teenager, inspired by Mayakovsky’s uncompromising example as a total artist, prepared to sacrifice everything for his vision. Ian travels to Mayakovsky’s birthplace in Georgia and speaks to poets, translators and academics who are seeking to keep Mayakovsky’s legacy alive. With rare archive recordings of Mayakovsky reading his own work, a Russian Futurist soundtrack from the period and on-location recordings from Moscow, Georgia and London, Ian attempts to resurrect the spirit of Mayakovsky.

Producer: Conor Garrett.