Remembering RSC founder John Barton

A SEA of famous names and the cream of Royal Shakespeare Company actors and directors from the last 50 years attended John Barton: A Celebration on Sunday, 27 May, honouring the great Shakespearian and RSC co-founder, who died in January aged 89. Gill Sutherland was at the memorial event and shares her thoughts.

How do you remember the life and work of a great man like John Barton? A tree and a plaque were planted at the weekend in his honour, suitably centre stage in front of the theatre on Bancroft Gardens, which is fitting and lovely. The RSC have also created a memorial fund in John’s name which is intended to extend his legacy and enhance the work and reach of the RSC’s Voice and Text Department, a great idea.

The most poignant and wonderful of the RSC’s commemorations, however, was the John Barton: A Celebration event that took place on Sunday at 4pm in the relative intimacy of the Swan Theatre.

Artistic director Greg Doran gave a short welcome and then RSC associate artists, John’s friends and colleagues performed notable extracts and shared memories during the afternoon, which was originally billed as being an hour long, but overran not unwelcomingly to over 140 minutes.

Poor Loveday Ingram, who directed the event, having to chivvy along this lovely bunch of stage hogs to stick to their allotted times!

But the whole thing was perfect — wonderfully thoughtful and full of happy-sad poignancy as laughter and tears rose and fell in equal measure.

What a privilege it was to be there, to have these wonderful performers, friends and colleagues conjure the essence of John, what made him so great, so loved and the legacy we owe him.

Many indeed spoke of the debt they owed John; for launching their careers or for elucidating Shakespeare, but all spoke of his warmth and humanity, and shared humorous stories of his eccentricities: including his penchant for smoking and red wine, his clumsiness (he apparently regularly fell off the stage, usually not batting an eyelid and carrying on) and sartorial inelegance.

Harriet Walter shared a story from many decades ago about being on a working trip in Jerusalem with John when they set out to walk the old pilgrim trail; the steep steps and sun proved to be trying for dedicated chain-smoker John; and the actress recalled they found in the dust at the side of the path an old bright orange hat with a Tango logo on which was plonked on his head to protect him from the sun. Harriet, with love, declared him the least vain person she had ever met, before giving a heart-rending rendition of the chorus from Henry V. Later, when a montage of photos is projected against the back wall, a snap of John wearing the orange hat, wearily sat smoking a fag, pops up and raises a laugh trailing to a sigh…

The poignancy of the day in part stemmed not just from John’s passing, but the mortality of all assembled. Vanessa Redgrave, now 81, came onstage without fanfare, clutching a simple triangle. Her seemingly unrehearsed recollections of the great director were tender and etched with sadness. She sang Titania’s Lullaby from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, her cracked voice lending a rawness to the words, made yet more heartbreaking when she shared that it was what she sang at bedtime to her children – bringing to mind beautiful Natasha Richardson, whose tragic death was nine years ago.

Patrick Stewart fought to keep his emotions in check as he came onstage to do St Crispin’s Day from Henry V — which was the piece that he used to audition for John and Peter Hall in 1965. Much hilarity ensued when he got Trevor Nunn to cue him, then stopped the great director, getting him to do it again "with more guts".

What was striking was how the great actors resurrected these speeches and parts from plays they were in decades ago with such fire and passion that you wanted to see the productions again.

John Shrapnel revived his Agamemnon from The Greeks (1980) with tremendous verve; Ann Mitchell and Mia Tagano performed a harrowing extract from Tantalus (2000) — John’s magnum opus, which occupied 20 years of his life in its creation; and the mighty Janet Suzman revisited her role as Helen in The Greeks — the words of the beauty now given different nuance.

There were too many funny stories, wonderful homages and tender songs to fully recount here… but When Great Trees Fall, a poem by one of John’s favourite writers, Maya Angelou, and read by Jane Lapotaire, perhaps leaves some suitable end words to share:

And when great souls die,

after a period peace blooms,

slowly and always

irregularly. Spaces fill

with a kind of

soothing electric vibration.

Our senses, restored, never

to be the same, whisper to us.

They existed. They existed.

We can be. Be and be

better. For they existed.