“He was uncompromising in all the right ways.”
Sean Holmes, director, The Sea (2000), Saved (2011) and The Chair Plays (2012)
When I was directing The Sea at the Minerva, Chichester, I went to see him at home. The lower half of his house was gloomy and covered in trees, with a low, dark ceiling – what you would expect from Edward Bond. Then he took me upstairs to a room on the roof, and when we went up there was a peacock on the windowsill. The upstairs was full of light, color and plants and he had peacocks in his garden. That was Edward: he was both things.
He was uncompromising in all the right ways. It came from a place of purity and pursuing something rigorous and concrete. When we did Saved and then The Chair Plays at the Lyric Hammersmith, he was at 80-90% of the rehearsals and the whole organization had the most creative experience. When I heard he had passed away, one of the people I texted was Claire Bryan, who is still the director at the Lyric. I immediately thought of her because I know she will never forget the six months we had with Edward. We all upped our game because he expected it. And he expected it because he believed that there can be no democracy without drama. He believed it was vital and important.
Related: Edward Bond: ‘Our theater either trivializes or generalizes – both are forms of sleaze’
There was a rehearsal one night when we did the famous stoning of the baby scene. He asked if he could lead. He took everyone in and explained that no one is going to stone a baby at the beginning of the scene. No one even thought about it. There are 60 or 70 events on those 10 pages that lead up to the stoning.
Watching him talk through it with the young cast was wonderful and it stuck with me. I’m currently doing King Lear in Tokyo and I keep telling the actors that Cornwall and Regan won’t tear anyone’s eyes out at the beginning of the play. But in the same way, one thing leads to another, and suddenly we’re in hell.
Edward said: ‘As far as I know, no group of young people has ever stoned a baby. It’s not a documentary. It’s a metaphor. If you oppress the poorest people, if you bully the weakest people, they will seek out those weaker than them to bully and oppress.”
As you tighten production you always lose time between the first preview and the press night, but with Saved we’ve added half an hour. He said, “No, the silences are not long enough. They are not painful enough.” And again, he was right.
Before the press evening we sat on the stage of the Lyric. I gave the “Fight ’em on the Beaches” speech that you give at press night, and then asked him if he wanted to say something. He went around to everyone and described something they did on the show that he really liked. Everything he said was correct. It was very fair and generous of him. I looked at them all and thought, “They’re going to crash the press night. There will be no nerves because Edward Bond believes in it.” And that night they did a brilliant performance.
‘He liked to be controversial and make the public think’
Marianne Faithfull, actor, Early Morning (1968)
I had played Irina in Chekhov’s Three Sisters with Avril Elgar and Glenda Jackson at the Royal Court in 1967. I think Edward knew me through William Gaskill, the artistic director of the Court, who was a good friend of mine. Early Morning was very controversial, but I loved it. Edward was great. I don’t know why he had a reputation for being unapproachable, because I don’t remember him that way. I remember him as a fine writer.
The play was banned by the Lord Chamberlain’s office and was visited by the police on the first evening. I thought it was stupid and everyone knew it was stupid. The Lord Chamberlain’s office was ready, thank goodness it was almost over.
I played Florence Nightingale, who had a lesbian relationship with Queen Victoria, played by Moira Redmond, but the controversy didn’t really interest me. I think that’s what Edward wanted. He liked to be controversial and make the audience think.
It was a very good moment for the Court and also for me to be involved in that moment. The atmosphere was tense and people knew something was going on. It was one of the best times of my life. So much was happening and I was involved. I loved it. I don’t know if I felt like Early Morning was part of a movement of a young generation of people changing the world, but I think it probably was.
‘An artist in the true sense of the word’
Tanya Moodie, actor, The Chair Plays (2012)
I like prickly and difficult people because I am irrepressibly cheerful and I challenge myself to break through the walls. Edward would seem grumpy and I would say something like, “Oh come on, why don’t you turn that frown upside down?” I treated him like he was my uncle. I had incredible affection for him and respect as well.
If you care and persevere, wisdom comes with age. He was one of those people. When I found out he had died I thought, “Oh, I’ve lost Peter Brook and Peter Hall, and now Edward.” I’ve worked with these people who, when you’re in their presence, communicate everything, the weight of their entire experience.
As an actor, I loved every word. The images in his plays create an oppressive environment, but even though they were dark, the characters were complex and nuanced. I imagine it’s like being a musician playing in a symphony, something you immediately fall into. It was so smooth. Nothing felt forced. Nothing felt overly cerebral. I never felt exhausted or energetically taxed. There was something inherently hopeful.
He was very quiet and didn’t always do starry things. He just did the job. He was an artist in the true sense of the word.
‘He had a brilliant ear for comedy’
Simon Callow, actor, restoration (1981)
He assembled a group of actors, including myself, Irene Handl and Philip Davis, to perform Restoration at the Royal Court. It’s a bit politically incoherent, but brilliantly conceived and the writing is superlative. We thought it was a beautiful piece, but as a director we couldn’t please him at all. He believed that there was only one way to play his plays and that he had the key to it. But unlike Brecht, who was both a remarkable playwright and a master of the theatrical arts, Edward was not, and that was a tension that persisted throughout his career.
But I did get a glimpse of another man. I found that under this seriousness he was struck by the scene. He was an ardent lover of the theater, but his principles forced him to deny its sensual pleasure.
I think he was an extraordinary playwright. His range was remarkable. He was also a brilliant cartoonist. I appeared in his play Narrow Road to the Deep North in Edinburgh years before I met him. It’s fantastically funny. He brilliantly manages to modulate from comedy to tragedy at the end of the play. If he wanted to make a living doing sitcoms, he had a brilliant ear for comedy.
He was a poet, a highly imaginative writer and someone in touch with deep creative juices. I admired him so much and I wish I hadn’t found him so impossible.
‘Uncomfortable, eccentric and essential’
Richard McCabe, actor, Bingo (2012)
He was one of our most important writers, despite the contempt with which he was often treated in his own country. I first did Bond at drama school. What struck me immediately, and later when I did Bingo at the Young Vic, is that he doesn’t waste a single syllable. He is a very precise writer. Every word is considered and weighed. This makes his plays very compact. This is a challenge for audiences who often prefer their theater to be easily accessible and beautifully packaged. They require focus and concentration.
He is the apotheosis of a kind of left-wing polemical theater and writer that unfortunately no longer seems to exist. Sometimes uncomfortable, sometimes eccentric, but full of material, thought-provoking and essential. The theater will be poorer if he doesn’t dig into the ribs of the establishment.