"A Chorus of Angels" -- photo courtesy of Karen & Steve; see below for new best group shot!
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"A Chorus of Angels" -- photo courtesy of Karen & Steve; see below for new best group shot! |
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When I first announced that Charles Dance would be returning to the English stage in Chekhov's "The Three Sisters", I felt bad for his admirers outside the UK. The cost of flights alone would surely make a journey here for the play prohibitive for most, I thought, never mind work schedules and those near and dear who might advise exercising 'common sense'. Was I ever wrong!
"The Three Sisters" ran at the Birmingham Repertory Theatre from October 30th to November 21st. During the week run-up to closing night, Angels began descending on ol' Blighty in order not to miss what might be their only opportunity to see Mr. Dance in this production. In spite of great reviews we had no idea if "Sisters" would continue its run in outer London and then the West End. No one wanted to hedge their bets. |
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"Sisters" may have been the catalyst for 'Angel Flight', but everyone took advantage of the trip in their own way. Some, like Gaddy, her husband David, and Doris, had been to England before and indulged their love of theatre and the arts. Others, like Mary, were here for the first time and were happy just to drink in the sights, so unlike the terrain of home.
Pez and I went into London on Friday afternoon to pick up Gaddy, David, Doris, Lynn and Mary, and brought them back to our part of England in a rented minibus. This was logistically sound as we'd decided to drive everyone up for the play on Saturday, and Milton Keynes lies about halfway between London and Birmingham. Why leave them cooped up in the city until closing night? But it was also selfish on my part -- I wanted these friends around me. We took them to the Bell Hotel's Carvery restaurant for dinner. It never even occurred that we might not get along, and my simple faith in their 'net personalities was confirmed in the most enjoyable conversation and endless good humor over plates stacked with food and a couple of bottles of wine. Doris gave each of us an angel pin, and then prompted discussion of a nature that quickly tarnished our halos...if we had any to start! |
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Margy joined us from Holland in the wee hours of Saturday morning, completing our group. I remember she and I discussed Remembrance Day and WWI and II while Pez had a snooze -- rather deep for 10 o'clock in the morning and on only 4 hours of sleep! We then went and picked the others up from their local hotels. First stop, Tesco's supermarket. All right, so it's not historic or even architecturally interesting. But Margy and Gaddy needed a few edible gifts to bring home (chocolate in a jar?? Hm....). Meanwhile David went to get petrol with Pez, and by all accounts was astounded that the gallon which costs around $1.00 in the US is the equivalent of $5.00 here! Then it was back to the house for lunch: tea, and a delivery of English pizza. Later we all crammed into my 'cozy' office to make our presence known on the message board, each having our turn at the keyboard before it was time to get everyone back to their hotel to prepare for our night in Birmingham.
It was an hour and a half ride to the theatre. As we pulled past the back of the Rep, Pez said he'd just seen a car pull up near the stage door which we believed, from our last visit, to belong to Charles Dance. Good thing there wasn't any traffic because we were stopped in the middle of the road, necks craning for a glimpse. But no luck. We parked and went to the bar in the nearby Copthorne Hotel, where I'd told our Angel in Nottingham, Karen, we would meet her and her husband Steve. "Just look for six Americans, one Clog, and one beleaguered Brit," I'd written to her. One drink later, in the middle of raucous laughter, a slip of a girl leant down beside me. "Are you Mez?" she asked with an identifying British accent. Now we were ten! All of our seats were in Row I, nine steep rows back from the stage. Doris, Gaddy, David, Lynn, Pez and I were all together in the centre stalls, Karen and Steve were at the right-hand end of our row, and just across the aisle were Margy and Mary. Definitely within jumping distance of that stage, should anyone take it into their heads to leap into Charles Dance's arms. I was glad for another chance to study the picture drawn on the opaque curtain, photograph style, perhaps in charcoal, of a Russian Army officer and a woman in turn-of-the-century dress along with their young children -- the three sisters and their brother Andrei. Below this on the right was written "MOCKBA 1877" (Moscow 1877), setting up the happy reminiscences of the sisters during the play. Behind this you could just make out the set of a parlour and dining area, with a long dining table at the back, against a backdrop of blue sky and cloud. When the curtain lifted to the strains of John Tams' music, I noticed at once that the dialogue was being delivered at a faster clip than on Preview night. Lengthy pauses were all but eradicated. I thought it an improvement, but didn't realize this might be how they intended to cut the length of the play until Charles Dance made his entrance as Vershinin. It didn't seem I'd had as much time to anticipate his appearance as I had on Preview night...Or was it because I now knew what to expect and when? In any case, his presence was riveting as always. Somehow the energy of his performance is always translated into a charisma that works like a magnet to the senses. I remember feeling this when I saw him for the first time in "Phantom"...You want to look at him, even when he isn't speaking. You can't help yourself. There's something mysteriously compelling about his presence which drags your attention back to him. |
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There wasn't a twitter from the other Angels when Charles appeared in Vershinin's handsome grey longcoat with green and red trim -- no gasps, no sighs (none audible, anyway). I was glad for this, not that I didn't trust them to be on their best behaviour. Later on during the first act, a woman in the lower left stalls began coughing and couldn't stop, poor thing. Pez has always warned me that this is a no-no to the Brits, no matter how involuntary it is; you should stifle it or leave the auditorium. And this woman managed to cough all over Charles' lines, to the point that he very discreetly shot her a couple of exasperated looks as the scene -- and the coughing -- continued. What a dilemma, for both audience member and actor. |
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At a certain point during the first act, Masha, the middle sister, was talking with Vershinin and suddenly left the front of the stage for the back. As she did so she inadvertently picked the throw rug up with her foot, leaving it rumpled. Charles waited a few beats as the action continued around the dining table, then very casually paced over and kicked the rug flat again just before Irina, the youngest sister, came hurrying down the steps to him. At her headlong pace, and no doubt concentrating on her next lines, she would never have noticed the danger and might have tripped over it if he hadn't intervened. Charles never broke character, yet I had the comforting sense that he was, at some level, ever-vigilant and using his experience on behalf of the others.
We gathered in the lobby during the interval, discovered a thief amongst us (I'll say no more!), and then hurried back to our seats after a false three-minute warning. Gaddy let me try out a pair of opera glasses, and told me about her 'encounter' with Charles while using them during the first act. "He looked straight at me, or seemed to!" she said. "What did you do??" I asked, thinking I would have dropped the things in shock if it had been me. "I kept looking," she shrugged. "Sisters" seemed to fly along to the final lines. The only notable difference for me was the scene when Masha returns from the woods and finds Vershinin waiting to say good-bye to her. The Army is leaving their village and being sent far away. On Preview night, I seem to recall Masha ran at Vershinin and threw her arms around him, spinning them in a circle like dancers in an embrace neither wanted to finish (I still get chills thinking of it). On closing night, Masha simply walked up to him and then threw her arms around his neck. I was a little disappointed by this, for the original scene spoke more of the desperation she was feeling at losing the man she loved. Then again, how many times can you have a woman throw herself bodily at you before you start to suffer whiplash or you both wind up on the floor in an unchoreographed heap? After the two curtain calls (standing ovations are very rare in England, ostensibly reserved for really outstanding performances; by English standards I've not seen one of these yet and wonder if even the Brits will know when they finally come across one) -- afterwards we Angels made our way to the stage door. There were two men there already, not together, but each obviously intent on getting the star's autograph. Pez and I quietly agreed that it would be best to let Charles deal with them first. Ten minutes in freezing temperatures later, Charles exited the stage door wearing a dark navy wool jumper and brown corduroys, his arms laden with items from his dressing room. He took one look at all of us and halted, those rare gem-coloured eyes going wide. "Oh my God," he said, raising some anxious laughter. The Angels moved forward, and even as I thought Wait!, they reined themselves in, let him put his things down and take care of the two ahead of us. Pez told me he overheard one of them saying he was doing some sort of research paper on theatre. |
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Pez went up to Charles first and thanked him for signing my birthday card and returning it. I didn't hear the response; the next thing I knew he had come over to me, asked me how my birthday was, and gave me a kiss on either cheek. From that moment on I was zoned and don't remember too many specifics! I do remember Doris taking charge (bless her) and introducing each of the Angels. Karen was hiding at his right side so Doris couldn't see her, even as he asked once or twice, "And who is this?" Almost all the American Angels were introduced, and finally Charles turned and asked Karen, "And where are you from?" With comic timing, Karen replied, "Nottingham!" Then I believe Margy stepped up. Margy is at least 5'9", the only one of us to claim the same lofty heights as Charles Dance. It could be as she says, that he asked her if she was cold and that was when he put his arm around her shoulders, but I thought he then looked straight into her eyes and remarked, "You're very tall." Whatever the case, Margy, not the least bit intimidated, gazed right back at him...Hence her new nickname, TTO -- The Tall One. |
| Pez then asked, "I wonder if you'd be willing to take a group photo?", to which Charles replied with a playful, "I would not," only to quickly look over his shoulder and decide the low concrete wall beside the stage door was the ideal spot...but first he had to move his things from the floor. I think it was at this point he picked up the willow-handled vase and said, "I'm not going to throw this away!" He put his things in the boot of his car, then gathered all of us around him near the wall. I heard his instruction, "Everyone move in close!" or something to that effect, a permission that was acted on eagerly! I glanced up to see Margy under his right arm, and just smiled remembering the old school picture admonishment: "Tall in back, short in front." Oh, for a few more inches! |
 From left to right: Mez, Margy, Lynn (in blue) hiding behind Doris, Charles Dance, Gaddy, Karen, Mary. |
| We then faced the flash of three cameras, wielded by our fabulous husbands: Pez, David and Steve. There was laughter throughout all of this -- I wish someone would tell me what it was about! After this we formed a loose circle with Charles as the focal point. I think Gaddy commented on how America seems to ignore his films. He made a weary-sounding reply, letting us know he was all too familiar with that fact, and asked if we'd seen Space Truckers yet, to which most replied 'No'. "What about Kabloonak?" he asked. Again, we said 'No'. "That one's very difficult to get hold of," I said. He suggested I start the search by calling Polygram (which I will do as things are settling down here). |
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At this point Doris presented him with his own Angel pin, which he received most graciously. That was a nice touch, Doris! I do remember saying, "I think that makes him our head choir boy" -- finally I was overcoming my tongue-tied shyness around him! I think Charles then asked where everyone was staying. "Milton Keynes," came the answer from a few directions, drawing a disparaging look and sound from him. Milton Keynes is the butt of many jokes in England for its ugly industrial estate everything-concrete style (even the cows!). I immediately flew to my adopted home's defence. "Hey, hey!" "Sorry," Charles gulped back the insult (all of this facetiously). "Or would you have preferred we dropped them all in Somerset?" I enquired. "No-no!" he said, making us all laugh.
Gaddy then asked what was next for him, and he told us about a movie which begins filming next Spring in Italy. "What's it about?" someone asked (sorry I don't recall who it was). "It's about a child prodigy violinist and his evil father," said Charles. "And which role do you play?" asked Doris. "Well," said Charles, "it certainly isn't the child prodigy!" At last he said he'd better get the rest of his things into the car, signalling the end of our little gathering. I'm sure he must have been freezing without a coat, and yet he gave us a good ten minutes of his time. All of us thanked him and said good-night, and the last thing I remember was him heading back to the stage door, and pausing long enough to blow me a kiss and say, "Thank you, my darling." I don't know why; in truth it had worried me a bit that we might be an imposition and my name would be mud around the Dance household ever after. But looking back on it, I think Charles really enjoyed being flocked to and having such genuine interest shown in his activities. Every artist yearns to know they've touched at least one person with their work. I only hope he realizes that for every Angel who showed up for closing night, there were at least 10 who couldn't make it. |
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| Sunday was our last day together. The Angels had to return to Gatwick and Heathrow, and Pez was heading off for Germany. We took everyone out in the morning to see the concrete cows, then went for a drive around the more scenic rural parts of Buckinghamshire: Woburn Abbey, a church in Woburn Sands, and eventually landing at a pub called the Green Man in Eversholt for lunch. Then it was back to the house for one last cup of tea, and an aborted attempt at listening to "The Reader", a gift from Mary. Margy and I weren't able to fix the stereo, but we gave it a good try! |
 An honest to goodness real pub, dartboard and all! |
| Over the weekend I seemed to be inundated with special little gifts from everyone, which I simply must acknowledge: Gaddy for the timely pumpkin pie filling and Pepperidge Farm dressing (yum!), and of course the Hefty One-Zip bags (we're so boring, aren't we?); David for the absolutely gorgeous handmade mahogany box (Pez will never think to look for his driving licence in there!); Margy for the Dutch Edam cheese and the stinks-pretty bath salts/foam (thanks, Sis!); Mary for the two big jars of Concord Grape jelly and all the wonderful treasures she put in the pretty cloth gift bag, including a special angel pin and a copy of "The Reader" (definitely not an audio-book to doze by!); Doris for the beautiful Turkish scarf and the bookmark for Pez, as well as supplying us all with angel pins...and shame on those of you who threw notes at us or stuck them in our pockets! T'weren't necessary at all -- it was a great joy to meet each of you in person and have you near, including our too brief visit with you, Karen. We only hope y'all had as terrific a time as Pez and I did! |
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