Peter Gill — The Plays
After your death you were better have a bad epitaph, than their
ill-report while you live. Hamlet Act II Scene 2
It sometimes seems as if Peter Gill’s plays are one of the best-kept secrets
of the British theatre. If the subject comes up in a group of actors, writers,
designers or directors, everyone turns out to have their own particular
favourite. For some it’s the passionate rivalry between the two brothers in
Kick for Touch, for others it’s Mrs Harte and Mrs Driscoll dancing
together in Small Change; or Julian in Mean Tears
asking restlessly Is this shirt OK? ; or the three generations of women
nested in bed together in The Sleepers Den; or the two boys perched
on the window sill with the evening light behind them in Over Gardens Out,
or Michael’s explanation of the world in Cardiff East. The
experiences differ but are linked by their intensity and by a strong sense of
personal connection.
Here goes another day. Let’s get ’em all out of it. Let’s have a sit
down. That’s the way I think. It’s wrong I know. And when they’re gone, I get
lonely. But as soon as they’re in again, I think, Oh, Christ, why don’t you
all go out and leave me alone. Mrs Harte: Small Change
Part of the plays’ intimate appeal lies in their sense of people coping, not
in some sentimental put-upon way, but simply getting through the day, managing,
making the best of things — the dailiness of life in the enormous complexity of
actual living. Some of what is to be coped with is external joblessness, lack of
money or social opportunity, but perhaps the greater struggle is with emotions —
fears, obsessions, needs, and inherited demands.
Oh Mrs Harte, I felt as if I didn’t exist. I kept looking out of the
window but I couldn’t work out how it could be possible. It’s easy to say so
now because although I think it I don’t feel it, if you can take my meaning.
And the line and the line post and everything. Well the truth to tell I got
very frightened, so I locked the bedroom door and I lay down on the bed.
Mrs Driscoll: Small Change
Side by side with those characters who are managing to cope (more or less)
are a group of others who are disintegrating or have disintegrated — Mrs
Driscoll in Small Change, Shirley in Cardiff East, Mrs
Shannon in The Sleepers Den. One of the characteristics of this
writing is the ability to enter the personality of someone who is failing apart.
This delineation of extreme psychic frailty helps give Gill’s work its
particular tone and the presence of such frailty in the plays is like an
undertow, which exerts its pull on all but the most robust characters. Sometimes
Nature herself seems to share this feeling, Gerard in Small Change
looks out of the train and sees: field after field after field, all shaking
with nerves.
Vincent: You ought to be a Catholic
Gerard: I would be if I wasn’t one.
Small Change
Gill’s Catholic upbringing also brings its flavour to the writing. It shows
not just in the characters’ social and ethical concerns but in their wit, their
repartee, and their refusal to let each other have the last word. (it was after
all the Catholic Church, which invented the position of the Devil’s advocate to
ensure that the opposing viewpoint could be fully dramatised.)
Dear Daddy, I hope you are well, that you are in good health and that
it’s all right where you are. Dear Daddy I wish you were home. Dear Daddy, I
wish you could come home for good. I hope I’ll get another postcard again. We
all got our cards and we hope you got ours. Lots of love, your son till death
— John Vincent O’Driscoll. Vincent: Small Change
From little Maria in The Sleepers Den hiding behind her comic to
escape her mother’s growing distress to Anne-Marie and Ryan in Cardiff
East who take refuge next door to get away from their parents’ quarrels,
Gill’s plays are full of children. Just as there is a strong sense of the adult
characters having had parents (and having to deal with what the parents handed
down to them), so Gill is careful to show how present entanglements have their
impact on the next generation. From the teenagers in Over Gardens Out
to the quite small babies in Cardiff East Gill shows childhood as a
vortex of adult emotions, anxiety, sexual possessiveness, obsession, terror,
seduction and moments of sheer weightless bliss.
Whose face did my grin start on? On whose face will it end? Gerard:
Small Change
This strong feeling of connection between generations means that Gill is
often writing what are in effect history plays (though not in any fashionable
sense). The presence of history is perhaps most overt in Cardiff East,
which as its title suggests takes a place and shows us a group of people living
there — pensioners, forty-somethings, twenty-somethings, teenagers, school age
children and babes in arms — everyone with their different aspirations and
experience of the world. On one level, history for these characters has been
reduced to material for a pub quiz — Alfred Sisley was married in Cardiff
- but on another level history is the very fabric of people’s lives. The sense
of time and community is overwhelming. Small Change tries to chart a connection
between the immediate post-war and the revolutionary hopes of the late sixties
and early seventies; Mean Tears catches perfectly the mixture of heartlessness,
self-obsession and despair that characterised the late 1980’s. In each of these
plays Gill includes characters (Michael, Gerard, Stephen) who as well as living
the experience are also trying to interpret it and give it an intellectual
dimension.
He is concerned with the whole of life since the particular is
unsatisfying. — with the particular because the whole of life cannot be
focused into vividness. William Gerhardie on Chekhov
The three godparents that stand behind these plays are Anton Chekhov, D.H.
Lawrence and Samuel Beckett. Gill has long had a particular affection for
Beckett, (especially the short works such as Eh Joe, Play and All That Fall);
his second play A Provincial Life is based on and extrapolated from a Chekhov
short story and his version of The Cherry Orchard is the
best rendering of Chekhov into English that there is, capturing perfectly the
sense of Mayakovsky’s remark that "Chekhov’s language is as precise as
"Hello" and as simple as "Give me a glass of tea." and of course his
production of the three Lawrence plays at the Royal Court Theatre in 1968 is now
legendary. But it is the combination of the three influences that is so
creatively interesting. Imagine Beckett and Chekhov without Lawrence, or
Lawrence and Beckett without Chekhov, and the mixture is immediately less
vivifying.
I want to paint men and women with that something of the eternal, which
the halo used to symbolise, and which we seek to convey by the actual radiance
and vibration of our colouring. Vincent Van Gogh
The desire to transfigure the ordinary and in doing so to rescue it from the
condescension of the cultured classes was shared by many theatre artists in the
period after the war — and not just at the Royal Court Theatre. Joan
Littlewood’s actors returning from active service couldn’t see why they had to
revert to playing comic servants on the fringes of middle class plays and set
out to create work in which they would occupy centre stage. In the same way Mrs
Harte and Mrs Driscoll are two ordinary Cardiff housewives yet they stand
- like Hamlet — at the centre of their own consciousness and that of the play.
Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life or whether that
station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show. Charles
Dickens: David Copperfield
It is natural for the painter to speak of the vibration of our colouring
but for the playwright it is not pigment but dialogue that has to be full of
vibration. Gill’s dialogue is unhurried, witty, faithful to the moment, yet
capable of great lyric power. His writing has as its defining qualities a
refusal to over-dramatise and a way of never looking at life as if it were only
a problem. His work at its best creates the sensation that what is being
conveyed is not some idea (still less some abstract theory) about experience but
simply and directly experience itself.
John Burgess
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