Legacy

Simon Cornish with Tony's granddaughter: Emily Cornish.

Flights of Angels

BY ETHAN KRASNOO, TUFTS STUDENT, 1993-1997, LAW SCHOOL STUDENT, WASHINGTON D.C.
Aside from bestowing on me (and introducing me to) my favorite “role of a lifetime” (embodied in a three page play), Tony garnered me my first paid performing gig (I got to dress in a kimono and move set pieces around in a production of The Mikado). I’ve never known a teacher to devote so much personalized attention to those he worked with.

It was always a joy to watch Tony’s mind in action, a machine gifted with the ability to draw from his students their hidden talents. However, my favorite memories of Tony do not involve the work, but the discussion. I had the pleasure of keeping in touch with Tony throughout the years and always relished the opportunity to catch up over lunch or tea upon his visits to New York City.

My least favorite memory involving Tony was his disfavor with me when I missed my entrance cue during a dress rehearsal of Hamlet. It was not his disappointment that upset me, but the fact that I had disappointed him. Tony was the utmost professional and I hated that I had earned his disfavor in such a manner. I left Tony a note apologizing, and he later thanked me but told me that the apology was unnecessary.

Tony and his gifts will be greatly missed. May “flights of angels sing thee to they rest!”

A Silly Walk

BY DOUG VERMES, TUFTS STUDENT 1994-1998
I had the good fortune to be in two of Tony's classes during my time at Tufts. It took me a while in the beginning to get comfortable calling him Tony, but I learned a lot from him about acting. Tony was the only person I know who was able to verbally distinguish the name Aron from the name Aaron. I feel fortunate to have had the opportunity to see him at a Drama Department alumni gathering in NYC a bunch of years ago. I have many happy memories from his class, such as his "silly walks" acting warm-up exercise. I can still hear him saying to one of my classmates: "Craaaaaaiggg... A silly walk!"

During my junior and senior years in college, I had been considering going into acting after graduation. I vividly remember a discussion I had with Tony during his office hours about acting, where he caught me off-guard with the following exchange:

Tony: Would you ever act nude?
Me: What?
Tony: Naked. Would you ever act naked?
Me: Umm. No.
Tony: That's what I thought you would say. You see, acting is about being able to be vulnerable. You have to be vulnerable on the stage.

Even though I ultimately went into teaching, I still learned a tremendous amount from Tony Cornish. He will be missed.

Remembering Tony

BY GEORGE SAVVIDES
It has been a terrible year- I have lost my mother, two cousins and my dear friend Tony. We first met in 1982 when he lived in Judd Street, five minutes from my house. As a young actor he was very supportive to me and we worked together on many occasions when he was directing drama at Capital Radio. At the time the Home Office didn’t recognise my refugee status from Cyprus and I was facing a deportation order. Tony was very sympathetic to my case – not only he wrote excellent references whenever it was required, but also took time off from work to accompany me and give me moral support at the Tribunal. Luckily I won my case and Tony stayed a great friend ever since. In the meantime I got to know Linda and Simon and we spend many times together either dining or visiting the cinema. The last time I saw Tony was at the hospital where I visited him twice – sadly he did not recognise me. But I will always remember the good times we spent together and his generosity.

A Tony Story

BY TOM DIVAN
During the Winter Intersession of 70-71 at Tufts, I directed Shaw's Heartbreak House with an extraordinary cast that included Mr. Anthony Cornish in what was to be his last acting performance. I had arrived in Medford at the beginning of the summer of 1970 to join the Summer Theatre acting troupe [including Charlie Carusi, Elin Diamond, Stuart White and Howard Ashman] and to begin work on my master’s. I was astonished at the caliber of my co-workers and fellow students, but equally underwhelmed by most of the faculty.

What did that matter when there was Tony? He was faculty enough. And the joy with which he guided us through the Double Dealer, trying to instill some sense of period style. Restoration comedy was not selling well, so Tony arranged for us to spend a day in costume at the Museum of Fine Arts. They had no place for us to change, so we had to drive there already dressed. One lovely German couple asked me if this were my native costume. It didn’t help ticket sales.

Tony was an amazing conjunction of intimidation that convinced you he knew absolutely everything worth knowing, and eye-twinkle plus beard-tug that let you know he probably knew even more. And yet he showed up to audition for Heartbreak House. For me, a new graduate student with no previous directing experience at Tufts. Perhaps he just wanted to protect Mr. Shaw’s reputation? I cannot imagine any other faculty member of that era who would have risked such indignity.

That Tony would subject himself to being directed by a student speaks worlds. He was fearless and oblivious to any personal risk he might suffer at my hands. What he must have endured as I tried to pretend I had anything at all to offer him. And thank goodness for Linda [they were spending the year in Medford with Simon] who gently sent word through Tony that we were mispronouncing “papa!”

But he did subject himself. He didn’t take over; he didn’t overwhelm me with advice. He helped me find my way by giving me the best performance he was capable of. In the process, Tony taught me worlds about acting, and directing and teaching.

I’ve been remiss about keeping in touch with friends. I only saw Tony once in the 35 years since Heartbreak House. That’s when he told me that Hector Hushabye had been his last acting role. “No fault of yours,” he hastened to add! Oh, I hope not. But how I regret those years not seeing him or talking with him. There was so much more I had to learn and so much more he had to teach.

Photos

(Photos provided by Craig Sturgis, Tufts University Class of 1971)
"Heartbreak House" Production photos:

Please Remember

BY TONY LEARY, WEBBER-DOUGLAS STUDENT 1961-1963
I remember Anthony Cornish arriving at Webber-Douglas like a breath of fresh air. He had a way of getting the best-and sometimes better-out of everybody and he was held in the greatest respect by the whole of our class.

Particularly memorable for us were his productions of Salad Days, Easter 1963, (Webber-Douglas's first musical), and our Press Show Celebration the following term. I also enjoyed the radio work he gave me later.

One of my favourite pieces of direction came from 'Mr. Cornish': "It's only a suggestion, but please remember who suggested it"! Gentle, kind, but with a firm authority that you could trust absolutely.

He will be missed.

Tony's New York Celebration

BY SIMON CORNISH, LONDON, ENGLAND
It was an immense plesure to me that Tony's life was celebrated not only in London but also in the States last weekend amongst so many good friends. Both Boston and the city of New York have played such an important part in his professional and personal life so I was particularly moved when Micheal Shepley and Kate Wenger took it upon themselves to organise a party in his honour. Time and time again during the evening I heard how Tony had been an incredibly good and loyal friend and had maintained those friendships over many years. Many of the people present I had not seen for thirty five years but I realised that I recognised all of their names because Tony spoke about them. It was Tony who helped to nurture those aquaintances in to life long friendships. After thirty years of hearing him speak about all of the people present as if I knew them as well as he did I was honoured to be there amongst those who were dear to him and sad that after all this time, finally when I have you all in the one room, I can't tell him.

So Michael and Kate, thank you once again and thank you to every one who came. Now at last I can put some faces to the names.

A Good Story and a Wide Smile

BY VICTOR J. MEDINA, TUFTS STUDENT 1993-1997, ATTORNEY, PRINCETON, NJ
Some say that there is no greater wealth than living in the hearts of others. If that's true, then Tony was a rich man, by all accounts. How sad I am to know that Tony has passed on - sad for myself, of course, but sad also that more won't be touched by him. Ironically, it brings a smile to my face to see so many of my college friends sharing their memories - I am compelled to add mine.

For those who don't know or remember me, I should start by explaining that I am not, and never was, a very good actor. Frequently blinded by my own ego, I foolishly auditioned for everything under the sun, and despite never landing any role of substance, I never quite got the hint until the end of my days at Tufts that maybe I should leave the meaty stuff for those with talent. Perhaps I was treated too kindly in my freshman year when the then-Chair of the Drama Department cast me in the first production of the year, a very serious production about the Holocaust. I was put in the role not to act, but because I could play the trumpet. In any event, after one of the performances, the cast went out to celebrate the fact that Tony's residency would be renewed for another term. I was ready to bow out after the show, but Tommy Finkelstein, who up to then I was sure hated me, dragged me along and we had drinks at the Wursthaus in Harvard Square. That night, 14 other college student and I were treated to four hours of stories and laughs with Tony. It was unbelievable... I mean, what faculty member goes out for drinks with college kids not even in his show? And that was the first time I met Tony.

A few years later, I auditioned for a class in performing comedy with Tony. By that time, I had abandoned any thought of dramatic acting, but auditioned for this class because it seemed like fun. Anyone who knows him well would know that acceptance into a class taught by him was validation of your talent by Tony. I should have had more confidence going into the class, but the class list was a who's-who of actors on campus. JC. Molly. Amy. Come on, what was I doing there? When I saw that the class was comprised of real actors, I went to Tony talk to him about his oversight in letting me in. I told him that I wanted to speak with him in private and he invited me into the little room with no windows and closed the door.

After explaining that I believed there to be some mistake, he said to me this:

"Vi-i-ic...", he started. (Tony is the only person I've met who knew that "Vic" has three syllables.)

And then he lowered his chin to his chest, locked eyes with me and said, "You are quite funny, you know." I swear that his left eye twinkled on that statement. "While I'm afraid that Hamlet may be out of your reach, you can make people laugh. I would very much like you to stay in the class." After that, I was more afraid to leave than to stay. He did tell me, quite a number of times that "It wants to be funnier, doesn't it?" - as if the question needed an answer. Tony was always right, "it" does want to be funnier.

I had a couple of other classes with Tony and have vivid memories of visiting his apartment for a party, as well as lunch on campus. 5 or so years ago, I decided I wanted to go to law school. I didn't make many connections with professors at Tufts, and asked Tony if he would mind writing me a letter of recommendation. He said, "Gladly!", but made me promise to come see Macbeth. It meant a train ride from Connecticut, but there was no way I would miss it - I feared too much to be in his debt. I had a wonderful time, of course, and I got to see some friends be brilliant on stage. And though Tony and I didn't speak that evening, he caught my glaze from across the room and gave me a wide smile. I know I'm not the only one of his students to know what it's like to make Tony smile like that.

I guess my point about it all is this: Tony made me feel as though I figured into his life somehow. No matter how many things he had going on, there was something about our relationship that warranted him giving me his undivided attention. And what's amazing is that he did this with everyone. He gave everyone this personal attention and touched us all with his warmth.

I imagine he's somewhere taking turns rubbing his head and beard, muttering "yes, yes, yes" as things fall into place for him. I'm sure he's also telling a good story to someone. I know there are some I want to share with him - I hope I get to some day.

Wickedly Delicious

BY ELIZABETH REVILL
I have only just discovered that Tony Cornish has died and I am deeply saddened. I owe him a huge debt of gratitude.

Tony gave me my very first radio job after I auditioned for him when I was still in Drama School. In fact, it was my very first professional acting job and he gave me an abundance of opportunities to develop my skills by casting me in numerous plays during his time at the BBC Pebblemill and recommending me to other directors. I then went on to win the Carlton Hobbs award and spent a brilliant six months on the BBC Radio Rep.

His skill in directing was second to none as he always knew how best to approach each actor and what advice would prove successful. I remember him saying to me on one occasion, 'Yes, Liz, just think dirty fingernails'. And I knew EXACTLY what he meant.

He had a wickedly delicious dry sense of humour, which sometimes left me wondering, 'Did he really mean that?'

I was also lucky enough to work with Linda Polan on a number of occasions and I learned so much from watching and listening to her, too.

It is a great loss and I know if George Woolley was alive he would pay his own tribute to Tony so I will do it for him. George worked on nearly every radio
play that Tony produced and it was George who got me that audition, which meant so much, after teaching me at BSSD in microphone technique. The two of them had such an amazing rapport, George with his blue rinsed coiffure and Jeannie, his little terrier ( named after Jean Alexander, his close friend) in tow and Tony,with his clipboard and script, precise and crisp. Two steps following behind them would be Tony's secretary, Clara.

George always spoke so highly of Tony and advised me to watch and learn as Tony was the master of direction. Thanks to the two of them I learned much about character and voice.

I am deeply saddened by his passing. Please send my sincere condolences to his wife, Linda and their son.

Remembering Paris

BY STEPHEN REYNOLDS
I first met Tony at the Webber Douglas Academy of Dramatic Art in 1974. I was a student there at the time and was part of the stage management team on a production Tony was directing. The first time I worked for him as an Actor was in 1976. I had been asked to go to Liverpool Playhouse to appear in a Christmas production of The Adventures of a Bear Called Paddington. Tony was directing and for whatever reason did not cast the play. The cast that had been brought together for this production could not have had a better leader. Tony took us on a fun journey and although we may have been seen as the second company at the Playhouse we had a wonderful time and looked forward to performing Paddington every performance. It was during this time that we became friends and I also had the pleasure of meeting his son Simon.

I was fortunate to work with Tony several times over the years and all of them memorable.

But it’s the things Tony brought to my life that I may have missed had I not met him that I shall remember him for.

In the early 1980’s I met Tony for a coffee and as we talked Tony found out I had not been to Paris. “I want to go and see Tess of the D’Urberbvilles” he said. This was the film by Roman Polanski, which was having trouble getting a cinema release in Britain. “Why don’t we go to France to see it and then I can show you Paris?” I agreed. Tony organised everything. We went in late October. Took the train from London to Dover the Hovercraft from Dover to Calais and the train from Calais to Paris. I was then given a weekend I have never forgotten. One that had been meticulously organised but felt like it just happened. I saw the setting in which Tony wanted to direct Much Ado About Nothing, visited the Chateau of Versailles and the Pompidou Centre. He took me to a Restaurant called Aux Charpentier and we ate wonderful food. We walked and talk and shared so much with so much with each other.

I know that he had been to Paris before with many other people but he had the capacity to make you feel that this was as special for him as it was for you.

Thank you Tony for giving me so much. Especially Paris.

New York Memorial Party

BY MICHAEL SHEPLEY & KATE BLAKESLEE
Dear Friends and Colleagues of Tony Cornish:

On Saturday, November 19, New York City will be the site of a party to celebrate the life and talent of Tony Cornish.

We don't know yet where the party will be, nor what time it will start. But for those of you from out of town, we wanted to you mark your calendars if you can possibly come in to celebrate him. Tony's wife Linda and son Simon will be present!

If you have any recommendations for centrally-located places (or if you know any restaurant owners), please let us know. All ideas are welcome.
E-Mail: MEShepley@aol.com

Hope to see all of you...and more!

Tony's Memorial Party

BY SIMON CORNISH
Tony's party this last Tuesday at RADA was nothing short of a miraculous evening. Linda rang me the following day to say it was all she had hoped for and much more. I had an almost 100% success rate in response to the invitations I had sent out and the guests represented a whole host of people from Tony's personal and professional life. There were people he had worked with over many years from theatre radio and television and even a group of three with whom he was at school. The food RADA had supplied was excellent and there was a planned break in proceedings at about 8.00pm when I made a speech culminating in a Champagne toast to Tony. The room being full of actors there was then no shortage of people willing to step up and share an anecdote or personal memory of him. What I found particularly moving about all of these tributes was the expression of truly heartfelt thanks for Tony's generosity. Whether it was an actor or writer being given a chance they would not have had without meeting him or someone just being shown something new and feeling the richer for it. To witness my father's memory respected and held in such high esteem with so much loyalty and fond affection is a great legacy he leaves us all.

The Cornish Eyebrow

BY PETER SIMPKIN, PHOTOGRAPHER, WRITER
I first met Tony when he was running the Capital Radio Drama Department. As a fairly successful BBC Radio playwright, I remember the joy of my first Capital play we did, the fun and inventive way Tony worked, As apposed to the fairly rigid correct way the Beeb worked. Tony always went for the best actors, unlike the BBC directors who would wince at a name you thought was right for your play, cant afford her, old boy the director would say. Tony adored actors, I always had the feeling that to Tony, Writers and the technical crew were necessary intrusions, who got in the way of the perfect play. We were somebody he could vent his waspish put downs on. But it was actors that really counted.

Tony could flatten Grown Men and women, with a simple eyebrow raise, followed by a Yesssss. Several of his regular writers were asked to write Nicola Johnson, a daily series of 10 minute episodes, there was a running joke between the writers when we changed over, we would leave the following writer a cliff hanger which they had to get the heroine out of tricky situation. I left the heroine with a mad bomber and a ticking clock, the mistake I made was to leave a message for the next writer at the end of the script. "GET OUT OF THIS ONE." Tony called me into his office and told me that he was changing the format, and he was giving me another 2 weeks of script to write, I expected "YOU, GET OF OF THIS ONE" He simply raised the eyebrow, smiled and said yesssss? Whenever I think of Tony, I just smile.

A Clear Vision

BY ANDREW CLEAVER
I was sorry to learn of Tony's death. During my final year of training at drama school in March 2004, I was directed by Tony in 'Philaster' at the Courtyard Theatre in London. I would imagine this was one of the final projects Tony was involved with. Although clearly unwell at the time, his commitment to the play was absolute with a clear vision of what he wanted from us at all times. It was a great opportunity to be directed by someone with such experience and during breaks in rehearsal it was wonderful to be able to listen to Tony recount tales of the people he had met and places he had visited during his time in the business.

My best wishes to his family at this sad time.

Condolences

BY GARY YERSHON
I have learned only today that Tony has died.

I'm a composer from the UK, but I started off my working life acting as well as composing. Tony and I first met at the Bristol Old Vic in the 1980s when I was still an actor. He directed me in Sheridan's THE RIVALS and Odets' AWAKE AND SING! I also composed music for some plays which he directed while he ran Capital Radio's drama output. We met every so often when he returned to London. In recent years we had, I'm sorry to say, lost contact. It was in British Actors' Equity's journal that I read of his passing.

I met Linda and Simon through him. To them, and to all those mourning him, through this website I send my deepest condolences

Inventing

BY IAN TOOTLE
In the early to mid 1970's, I was a fledgling ASM at the Haymarket Theatre in Leicester, UK. Linda had become a regular stalwart of the rep company and Simon was but a youngster. Tony directed several plays under the auspices of the then Artistic Director, Robin Midgely and then became, somewhat bizarrely, the Production Manger of the Theatre at which point he almost immediately promoted me to become a DSM and consequent Company Manager for the increasing amout of touring productions. Without Tony's support and mentoring, I have no doubt that my subsequent, reasonably successful career as a Production Manager and Line Producer in UK television would not have happened. My joyous recollection of Tony was that having being asked the question, 'do you know Ian Tootle?', he was reported as saying, 'know him, I invented him!!'. He did and I will be ever grateful to him. The news of his death in the British Equity journal on my doorstep today was a shock to me and my thoughts are with both Linda and Simon at this sad time and I hope to be at Tony's Memorial Service in London in later this month.

A Man of the Theatre

BY JOHN BEVERIDGE, TELEVISION PRODUCER, MANAGING DIRECTOR TELEVISION FACILITY COMPANIES, LONDON, ENGLAND
I spent 6 very happy months as a Production Manager on United the television soap produced by Tony and directed by, among others, Julia Smith subsequently the creator of Eastenders, and recorded in a converted cinema at Gosta Green Birmingham. After United I returned to London and spent the next 25 years as a television producer. I often wondered what the magic was and why I’d enjoyed those few months in Birmingham so much. It took me some time to realise that it was because Tony was a man of the theatre, and that whole atmosphere permeated down through the company. I remember him as charming, thoughtful, intelligent and witty. There are not many people like him left in the BBC,which may well be one of its failings.

Superb Creativity

BY JOHN HENCHER
I left the theatre in 1958 to become a priest. By 1963 I had become Vicar of a large industrial parish in the West Midlands. I missed the theatre, and especially the company of theatre people, desperately and I became lonely and very unhappy. Somehow Tony Cornish heard of this, I can’t think how, and he invited me to go and see him at the BBC in Birmingham. He was warm, understanding and sympathetic, I very appreciated talking to him, went back to my parish and thought that would be the end of it. To my astonishment he soon offered me a part in a radio play and many others followed in the next few years, including the lovely part of Amos Midwinter in a serialisation of John Buchan’s ‘Midwinter’. I owe him so much; he clearly understood my plight and how to help me. His generosity and kindness and, not least, his superb creativity, got me through a very difficult time and put me back on track. My memories of him are shot through with deep gratitude.

Inheritance

BY DANIEL (DAVID) HUNT, WEBBER-DOUGLAS ACADEMY OF DRAMATIC ART STUDENT, ENGLAND
I was one of the very privileged student's to be directed by Tony at the Webber - Douglas Academy of Dramatic Art in 1987. He gave me the chance to play the headstrong Edward Voysey in Harley Granville-Barker's The Voysey Inheritance. His patience, guidance and specific discipline to the text instilled in me my serious working process that I adhere to today. Also the clarity of his own diction and gentle (but firm) method of direction was an in itself. He really is one of the great influences in my professional life as an actor and director and I for that I would like to thank him.

Best wishes to his family and love.

Remembering

BY ALAN REBBECK, WEBBER-DOUGLAS ACADEMY OF DRAMATIC ART STUDENT, ENGLAND
I go back to 1963. I was a student at The Webber Douglas School here in London.I was cast in a very difficult part in a very obscure play by Emlyn Williams. The play was entitled "Tresspass". I played, for a student, a very difficult part: "Saviello," a meduim.I can remember without doubt the most impressive teacher and director throughout my three years training at The Webber D was Anthony Cornish. The part was open to alL sorts of reaction from laughing etc. But "no" - Mr.Cornish through his clever directing and teaching saw to it that wouldn't happen.On my school report Mr.Cornish wrote, "Alan Rebbeck was completely believable as the medium Saviello. It was the stillness that Alan bought to the character that impressed me."

In 1976 I moved to NYC. There I tried to pursue my career as an actor.I did the usual bitS and pieces on films, soaps and a couple of off, off Broadway.In 1990 I returned to live in London. In 1989. I was walking in the Chelsea neighbourhood where I lived, and I saw Tony Cornish sitting, having breakfast at a 9th Avenue diner.I went in sat down and said to Tony, "Do you remember me?.You taught me at the Webber D." He said "Yes, didn't you play a meduim in an Emyln Williams play?" I said "That was correct.How did you remember?.He replied "I never forget". It blew my mind. He then proceeded to ask what I was doing.I told him I was returning to live in London.He then told me to get in touch with a producer who was putting on a play at a very reputable fringe venue. I didn't get the part.

I am now 68 - two years younger than Tony. I can't believe that. This was a man who is two years older and was wiser than his years.I very rarely work, but that's not a problem.I still have wonderful memories, one of which was knowing Anthony Cornish for a brief time in our lives.

Passing it On

BY STEPHEN BENSON, ACTOR, DIRECTOR, TEACHER, NEW YORK CITY, NY
Before there was a World Wide Web, there was Tony. He intertwined us, gathered us together, and kept us up to date. There are people I have never met (some of you writing on this page) whom I feel I know because Tony knew you and loved you. Tony introduced me to many things (how to speak verse, how to approach a scene, how to make a moment work), but more importantly he introduced me to people who have stayed, like him, lifelong friends.

Where hadn’t he been? He turned up everywhere, telling stories of adventures in far-flung lands – East and West Coasts, Canada, Monaco, Africa. And what hadn’t he done? He was teaching, directing, doing a radio program, adjudicating amateur theatre, always seemingly just coming back from an opening, a conference, a meeting, or a rehearsal. And his telling you of it made you wish you had been there with him, just to drink it all in, and be with him in the midst of it all.

He knew what made theatre work. “It wants to be this way,” he would say, the play speaking directly to him about how to make it come alive. He put his stamp onto a production, one of action and spectacle and unexpected tenderness.

And he loved it all. He seemed never happier than sharing time with others, going to an endless number of student rehearsals, watching an audition piece, giving generously of his time, his patience, his knowledge. He leaned into you to share an especially tasty bit of humor; he stood out in a crowd of students, striding his way to class with purpose and flair.

After one performance of mine he attended, he came up to me and said, “I think there’s a little bit of me in there.” And there was, not just in the accent and the character’s relish of language that I had tried to capture, but also in his dedication to the work and his appreciation of actors, for I had learned that too from him.

He was there contributing to momentous events in my life. He took a chance by casting me in my first Tufts major production, the legendary A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Four years later, he presented me with my Tufts diploma, in a pub around the corner from the Stanhope Hotel in London. He flew to Minnesota to stand by me at my wedding. And 25 years after he gave me my first acting lesson, he cast me in a production of The Beggar’s Opera, and I was able again to see him take command of a production, singers and musicians hanging on his every word, ingesting the confidence and encouragement he could instill in a performer.

Eighteen months ago, he and Linda hosted a dinner for my wife Meg and me, along with several former Tufts classmates still living in London. There we all were, graying, older, more experienced, but all of us still professionally involved in theatre and the arts. And I thought, without Tony and Linda as models, would we still have gathered together so happily 30 years after school? And how many of us would have pursued lives less full of creativity and camaraderie, not knowing that it was possible to make a life in the arts, not imagining that relationships could be forged and made to survive and prosper, no matter the length of time or distance?

Theatre owes a huge debt to Tony. Because of his work, thousands of students have made the theatre dear to them. Audiences have been enlightened and enriched. Plays have lived again, because of the way they spoke to him.

I will be directing college students next month. If I can influence a life as Tony influenced mine, I’ll only be passing on what was given to me, what I have been taught is the practice of the theatre and the love of the people who do it.

I know there’s a little bit of you in there, my friend.

More Memorial info

BY LINDA AND SIMON CORNISH
We now have memorial parties arranged for the UK friends in London (at RADA on September 20th) and at an address to be annoucned in New York for the U.S.A. friends on November 19th. We will atend both and look forward to seeing all of you.

Our love to you all.

U.S. Memorial Party in the Works

BY MICHAEL SHEPLEY
I just got off the phone with Kate Wenger, who tells me that Linda Polan will be coming to the States in November.

We have collectively decided, based on travel schedules, that Saturday, Nov. 19 is THE DAY to have a Tony Cornish Memorial Party in New York City. We decided on a Saturday just in case there are people from out of town who wish to come to New York.

So far, there is no other information or location. Depending on the number of RSVPs, we probably will attempt to take over a section of a bar where people can pay for their own drinks and food, something informal but where we can have our own area or even room if possible.

People should contact me if they know of a place we can consider or if they are interested in attending. meshepley@aol.com

More information later.

Weapons and Words

BY KYNA HAMILL, PH.D. CANDIDATE, TUFTS UNIVERSITY
I have put off writing, thinking I had nothing to add to such a wonderful tribute to Tony. Not writing, however, seemed like I was not acknowledging that like many of you, Tony has in some small way effected my life. So here goes. As an international student, I worked on and off in the drama office during my first years in the program. Tony would come in, give me a warm greeting, and be on his way. Eventually, we began to speak a little more, I, of my work in the graduate program and he, of his classes and rehearsals. I soon learned of our mutual friends like Alex Hawkins (see below), a professor of mine at U of Alberta, who initially suggested I apply to Tufts. As we continued to get to know each other, I was impressed to learn that Tony had been pursuing his M.A. in the department. I began to look forward to our daily chats, and told him of my interest in stage combat. As was his way, he immediately suggested ways to help me showcase my work. (I have since spoken to other people about his generosity to utilize people’s talents to the best of their ability. Tony’s gift, as we have seen, was bringing people together, an unselfish talent I wish we could all encounter more.)

Fast forward to a year later, and would you believe that Tony and I were teaching a class together at Tufts called “Weapons and Words.” While I taught the fighting, Tony worked with the students on the scenes. He respected my work, and I, his. Considering it was a Friday morning class (the only time we could find a space), I think Tony quite enjoyed the class. We balanced each other out; I was neurotic about the weapons and my teaching, while he calmly observed, coming and going when he felt he was needed, remarking on the student’s work when he felt it was not up to par.

As a consequence of the class, I was able to publish a book of stage fight scenes, many of which were used in the course. This unique class, likely never to be taught again at Tufts, was a stepping stone for my career, gave me confidence as a teacher, and remains a semester that I will remember. I am happy to have had my own “Tony” experience. Like all who have written already, he has made me better for it.

I hope people continue to post memories of Tony. It is not often we have a venue to reflect on the lives of people that have contributed to our own experiences. I only hope that Tony's computer is working wherever he is so he can read them; it always did seem to be on the fritz!

Canadian Cornish Memories

BY ALEX HAWKINS, CALGARY, ALBERTA, CANADA
When I arrived at Tufts to start graduate school in September 1970, I was coming from Calgary, Alberta, Canada, and in my naivete, I thought that at the age of 24, I was more or less sophisticated, having travelled in my youth at least to Montreal and Toronto and Vancouver. What I didn't know was that I was actually a hayseed from Hicksville, and Boston was both a rude and exhilarating cultural shock, and I found it difficult at first to find my way. Within the first few weeks, I tried out for a show that Tony was directing (After the Fall by Arthur Miller) and much to my amazement, I got a part. For the next five months, I spent much time being directed and guided and mentored by Tony, who was a much more talented and
capable director than I was an actor. I was very grateful and honored that he was willing to spend so much time with me, and expended so much patience on me. Although I didn't have him as a teacher in a class, I learned from him a great deal about the theatre, about directing, about acting, through the rehearsals and our discussions, both formal and informal. Then, once the show was over in mid-November, Tony generously agreed to supervise a Creative Project for my M.A. degree (which he certainly didn't have to do)based on my work in the show. So he and I spent more weeks through December 1970 and January 1971 with me writing and revising, and Tony suggesting, editing, commiserating, and guiding that project.

Tony and I worked together again in May-June 1971 on Pinter's The Homecoming, and I was so impressed by the specific knowledge and experience of England and London that Tony brought to his ensemble of American actors and one Canadian. Our production had an authenticity and a clarity of which we were proud, and it was entirely because of Tony.

Yes--Yes

BY RITA DIOGUARDI, DEPARTMENTAL ADMINISTRATOR, DEPARTMENT OF DRAMA AND DANCE, TUFTS UNIVERSITY
Standing behind a lectern in an Aidekman Arts Center basement classroom, Tony spoke in clear, precise sentences, peppered with bursts of laughter, as he explained with enthusiasm to a classroom full of Tufts summer students, the meaning of SPEAKING WITH CONFIDENCE: A class he repeatedly taught at Tufts. “You see,” he said, “It’s quite easy once you start talking.”

I remember listening to those words as I stood in the classroom doorway patiently waiting to give him an updated class list. And as he extended his arm and signaled me to approach with his hand, we made eye contact and while nodding his head and reaching for the class list, in a quiet, soft audible voice he murmured his all too familiar phrase, “yes--yes”. Those words I would hear over and over again throughout his long, colorful career at Tufts.

He loved telling stories of places, of incidences and of faces he encountered. Tony was an inspiration to our students, and an integral member of the department for many years. Thank you Tony for all the remembrances…”yes--yes”.

We Were All Amateurs First

BY MALCOLM RENNIE
I first met Tony & Linda when we all worked at the then newly opened Haymarket Theatre in Leicester in the mid 1970's, but it was not until 1982 that I had the great experience of working with Tony as a director when he cast me as Victor in a revival of The Price by Arthur Miller.

Having known Tony socially for a few years prior to our working together was a definite advantage for us both. We both knew each other's work and had a certain appreciation of each other's foibles and idiosyncracies.

We slipped easily therefore into a rehearsal relationship that for me, was one of the most creative I ever experienced. Tony was a brilliant communicator and an astute listener. He always said he learned from his actors, but I doubt if we ever gave him the insights and inspiration which he gave us. He created an environment where his cast felt that they were at one with their director, delving into Miller's dense text, uncovering the underlying delicate structure of perceived missed chances, shame and jealousy at the heart of the piece. The resultant ensemble feel to the playing attracted much critical praise, and the credit is largely Tony's for that. It was a unique priviledge for me to have been part of that particular production - I learned so much from him.

A further unique priviledge was the three years I spent as one of the members of Tony's rep company at Capital Radio. At the time we did not know it, but the Drama Department which Tony headed for some years at Capital was a somewhat cynical invention of the company to ensure that their licence would be renewed. Once the licence was confirmed for another fifteen years in 1985, the Drama Department, into which Tony had put so much effort and creativity, was despite our protests, immediately disbanded. However, the five years in which it flourished was a time that I look back on with great fondness. Tony had the idea of a daily soap, 8 minutes per episode, broadcast at 1:30pm and repeated at 1:30am about the life and work of a young cub reporter (Nicola Jonson) on a busy London newspaper and I was asked to play one of the main running characters.

It was a truly innovatory experience, with Tony initiating new and original methods of radio drama which were genuinely ground breaking. The pilot was made entirely on location in the West End, on the streets, in real offices, pubs, restaurants etc. Nothing like this had ever been done before in radio drama in Britain and it would be many years before the BBC would attempt the same. The result was entirely startling to all of us whose radio experience was studio based. Here was something which had total freshness and street authenticity, bringing a greater degree of naturalism to performance and playing. It was immediately commissioned by Capital and Tony assembled a group of writers, actors and directors who worked on Nicola Jonson for the next three years.

A further innovation was the inclusion in certain episodes of real news pertinant to the broadcast day. For example, one of our writers would go to Fleet Street at 1am when the first editions were coming out. A scene featuring a real news story would be written by 6am and recorded by the cast at 7, for broadcasting that lunchtime. It was a heady rock'n'roll experience, flying by the seat of our pants, but Tony was unflappable, secure in his vision and always delivering on time.

Tony was a remarkable bridge builder. He relished points of contact between apparently dissimilar areas. He saw no real difference in essence between the amateur and the professional theatre and liked to remind a certain type of professional actor that "we were all amateurs first". To a working actor, he was able to bring a sense of the academic, and to professors a feel for the intensely pressurised and practical side of theatre making. He was conscious of the need for innovation, but believed deeply in a theatre continuum which stretched back centuries.

I admired his work and achievements and I have lost a great confidant, colleague and friend. He was the director that all of us need to work with. I am so, so fortunate that I did.

Always Dapper

BY BARBARA W. GROSSMAN, CHAIR, DEPARTMENT OF DRAMA AND DANCE, TUFTS UNIVERSITY
I first met Tony in 1995 when I returned to Tufts from my year as a Bunting Fellow. It didn’t take long for me to realize what a splendid colleague he was. Dedicated to his students, committed to his teaching and directing, generous with his time and energy, Tony was a delight. A walking fount of information about theatre, he seemed to have an endless source of anecdotes about the myriad people he knew, plays he’d directed, and places he’d been. I admired his ability to nurture the countless relationships he’d developed over the years. The visible pleasure he took in the accomplishments of his former students and associates was palpable.

Always dapper, even in jeans, with the ramrod straight bearing of a former military man, Tony had wit, intelligence, warmth, and an irrepressible curiosity about the world. He never seemed jaded, even when directing Romeo and Juliet for the fifth time! It was a joy to spend time with him, whether the setting was a faculty meeting or one of his favorite Cambridge haunts.

Like everyone else, I was shocked and saddened to learn of Tony’s unexpected passing, particularly on July 5. That date’s always been a happy one in my family: it’s the birthday of both my father and my son, Ben. From now on as we celebrate each year on July 5, we’ll raise a glass to Tony, too. I only wish he could be there with us to enjoy it.

To Linda and Simon, please know that you have my deepest sympathy at this difficult time. I’m thinking of you both.

Old Chingfordians

BY MARTIN COOK, HONORARY SECRETARY, OLD CHINGFORDIANS ASSOCIATION, ENGLAND
On behalf of the Old Chingfordians Association, of which Tony was a member, please pass on to Linda and Simon the condolences of the Committee and membership.

Tony attended Chingford County High School from 1947 to 1951 and in 2004 contributed the attached article to our newsletter, The Link. Although this was before I took on the role of Editor and though I did not know Tony personally his writing and a later letter that was passed to me by the previous Editor where a pleasure to read. I hope that you will be interested in Tony's article, and I shall be putting together some words on Tony's career for our next newsletter.

Cornish on Cornish, A brief Autobiography

BY ANTHONY CORNISH, NEWSLETTER OF THE OLD CHINGFORDIANS ASSOCIATION, JANUARY, 2004. CHINGFORD COUNTRY HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT, 1947-1951

A LIFE OF DRAMA
I was at Chingford Country High School from 1947 to 1951 and here is a brief summary of what went on in my life after that and of what inspired it.

When I was twelve years old my father, a dance band pianist six evenings a week and a church organist on the seventh, said to me "If you want to get on in this world you must learn to speak properly." Coming as I did from a "London" family I was not quite sure what he meant, but he introduced me to Dick Williams of the Modern College of Speech and Drama in Orford Rd., Walthamstow. Every Saturday morning I went for an elocution class. My first two speeches were "Open your ears..." Rumour's speech from Shakespeare's Henry 4th Part Two, and Gus the Theatre Cat by T.S. Eliot. I loved it and sensed that this was the entry to my life. Dick also headed up a theatre department at the Walthamstow Educational Settlement, in Greenleaf Road, run by Quakers. I went there first to join a youth drama group and then to weasel my way into the adult shows, playing cute kid roles. Both groups did a play in the autumn and another in the spring. In the summer we played two Shakespeare plays and some others in an open-air theatre in Epping Forest known as "The Wilderness," attached to a house belonging to the artist Walter Spadbury. Some of us will have grown up knowing his railway posters. My greatest opportunity there was as Curtham in Christopher Fry's The Boy With a Cart. I was also doing school plays, but there was not the same enthusiasm for me as at the Settlement.

After High School I got a job at the BBC as a desk clerk in the sound effects library, whilst carrying on at the Settlement. Both were educational experiences. Two years later and it was time for National Service. A man I had met at the BBC suggested I write to him when I knew where I was in the Army, and he would try to get me into the Forces Broadcasting Service. Dick Williams work had an effect! I wrote and it worked. After four weeks basic training, including rifle shooting, I went to camp on the South Coast to wait for my assignment in Europe. It was to be Austria. I traveled alone on a military train from Torquay to Klagenfurt and another stage of my life began. Many of the staff were civilians and it was decided that the soldiers should not wear uniforms when working. We were disc jockeys, interviewers, sports commentators, news-readers and also did a little radio drama. I went from Klagenfurt to Graz and then to Vienna where the Forces Broadcasting Services had studios. There was a very high level of professionalism, which was both very stimulating and challenging.

After the army I was wholly determined that the theatre would be my career, and it has been ever since. I was first a Stage Manager at the King's Theatre, Gainsborough, both acting and stage-managing. I next had two years as a Penguin Player in Bexhill-on-Sea. I then went to the Civic Theatre in Chesterfield in Derbyshire and in 1957 became Artistic Director. This was a challenging and exciting leap. I had started as the Stage Director and acted a little, but then got a play to direct (my turn) and it was like coming home. Directing has since been my life. In Chesterfield I met my wife Linda Polan who joined the company. We were married in 1962 and we left Chesterfield fro London. We both free-lanced until I applied for and got the job of Head of Drama at the BBC in Birmingham, doing radio and some television including devising a twice-weekly soap opera "United" about Soccer. I also directed at the Birmingham Repertory Theatre and the Phoenix Theatre in Leicester. My BBC life lasted almost ten years. I was briefly Associate Director at the Haymarket theatre in Leicester.

In 1967 I found myself speaking at a conference in Oxford alongside the dramatist James Forsyth, who had just begun a "junior year abroad programme" in London for Tufts University of Medford, Massachusetts. The students of that first year attended the conference and asked if I would go to speak to them. My Tufts life has been interesting ever since. I became artistic director of the programme in 1971 after I had taken the family to America for a year as "Artist in Residence." I continued my free-lance life and was a co-founder of the Orange Tree Theatre in Richmond. Being in the academic world I decided to get a degree of my own. I went to Birkbeck College, London and obtained an upper second. The Tufts London programme had died and I went to Capitol Radio at the invitation of Richard Attenborough, where I commissioned a play a month and devised a radio soap opera, Nicola Johnson about a young lady reporter. Commercial radio stations are not supposed to have drama departments and after five years we closed down.

The rest of the eighties and early nineties was a free-lance time. I was at Cornell University in Up-Sate New York, for a couple of years, directing and teaching. The British Council, for whom I had done a good deal of overseas teaching work, allowed me to devise and tour from Khartoum to Botswana with a six person production of A Midsummer Night's Dream which was a very rich experience. I am a member of the British Actor's Equity and a founder member of the Director's Guild of Great Britain. I am also a member of the Guild of Drama Adjudicators and have adjudicated all over this country for the European Anglophone Theatrical Societies annual festival. I have also been every four years to Monaco since the mid 1980's as a critic for the Festivale Mondiale du Theatre Amateur which has 40 countries participating. In 2002 Prince Rainier gave me a knight-hood.

In 1994 a friend from Tufts University became Chair of the Drama Department and asked me to return as "Artist in Residence," where I stayed for eight years. I taught acting, directing and public speaking and directed a play each year, six Shakespeare's among them! Since returning to the UK last year I have mostly been teaching in Drama Schools in London. I will return to the Orange Tree also to the Pearl Theatre, a classical company in New York, where I have done six productions. Earlier in 2003 I went to Springfield, Ohio to direct my fifth A Midsummer Night's Dream at Wittenberg University. The Chair there was a Tufts undergraduate in my earlier life. I have directed at the Webber-Douglas, a final's show - The Return of the Prodigal (St. John Hankin) and I am about to direct The Good Person of Szechuan (Brecht) at the Mountview School. In ealy 2004 I will direct Beaumont & Fletcher's first play Philaster or Loves Lies Bleeding.

A life in the theatre, 41 years of marriage and a son, Simon - and all thanks to my father's early advice!

A.C.

Gus, The Theatre Cat

BY T.S. ELIOT
Gus is the Cat at the Theatre Door.
His name, as I ought to have told you before,
Is really Asparagus. That's such a fuss
To pronounce, that we usually call him just Gus.
His coat's very shabby, he's thin as a rake,
And he suffers from palsy that makes his paw shake.
Yet he was, in his youth, quite the smartest of Cats--
But no longer a terror to mice and to rats.
For he isn't the Cat that he was in his prime;
Though his name was quite famous, he says, in its time.
And whenever he joins his friends at their club
(Which takes place at the back of the neighbouring pub)
He loves to regale them, if someone else pays,
With anecdotes drawn from his palmiest days.
For he once was a Star of the highest degree--
He has acted with Irving, he's acted with Tree.
And he likes to relate his success on the Halls,
Where the Gallery once gave him seven cat-calls.
But his grandest creation, as he loves to tell,
Was Firefrorefiddle, the Fiend of the Fell.

"I have played," so he says, "every possible part,
And I used to know seventy speeches by heart.
I'd extemporize back-chat, I knew how to gag,
And I knew how to let the cat out of the bag.
I knew how to act with my back and my tail;
With an hour of rehearsal, I never could fail.
I'd a voice that would soften the hardest of hearts,
Whether I took the lead, or in character parts.
I have sat by the bedside of poor Little Nell;
When the Curfew was rung, then I swung on the bell.
In the Pantomime season I never fell flat,
And I once understudied Dick Whittington's Cat.
But my grandest creation, as history will tell,
Was Firefrorefiddle, the Fiend of the Fell."

Then, if someone will give him a toothful of gin,
He will tell how he once played a part in East Lynne.
At a Shakespeare performance he once walked on pat,
When some actor suggested the need for a cat.
He once played a Tiger--could do it again--
Which an Indian Colonel purused down a drain.
And he thinks that he still can, much better than most,
Produce blood-curdling noises to bring on the Ghost.
And he once crossed the stage on a telegraph wire,
To rescue a child when a house was on fire.
And he says: "Now then kittens, they do not get trained
As we did in the days when Victoria reigned.
They never get drilled in a regular troupe,
And they think they are smart, just to jump through a hoop."
And he'll say, as he scratches himself with his claws,
"Well, the Theatre's certainly not what it was.
These modern productions are all very well,
But there's nothing to equal, from what I hear tell,
That moment of mystery
When I made history
As Firefrorefiddle, the Fiend of the Fell."

Rumour

BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, HENRY IV, PART II, PROLOGUE
Enter Rumour, painted full of tongues

Open your ears; for which of you will stop
The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks?
I, from the orient to the drooping west,
Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold 5
The acts commenced on this ball of earth.
Upon my tongues continual slanders ride,
The which in every language I pronounce,
Stuffing the ears of men with false reports.
I speak of peace while covert emnity, 10
Under the smile of safety, wounds the world;
And who but Rumour, who but only I,
Make fearful musters and prepar'd defence,
Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief,
Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, 15
And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe
Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures,
And of so easy and so plain a stop
That the blunt monster with uncounted heads,
The still-discordant wav'ring multitude, 20
Can play upon it. But what need I thus
My well-known body to anatomize
Among my household? Why is Rumour here?
I run before King Harry's victory,
Who, in a bloody field by Shrewsbury, 25
Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops,
Quenching the flame of bold rebellion
Even with the rebels' blood. But what mean I
To speak so true at first? My office is
To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell 30
Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword,
And that the King before the Douglas' rage
Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death.
This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns
Between that royal field of Shrewsbury 35
And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone,
Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland,
Lies crafty-sick. The posts come tiring on,
And not a man of them brings other news
Than they have learnt of me. From Rumour's tongues 40
They bring smooth comforts false, worse than true wrongs.

Enchanting

BY ALICE TREXLER, ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR AND DIRECTOR OF THE DANCE PROGRAM, TUFTS UNIVERSITY
It's difficult to imagine that Tony has left his physical form. Wouldn't he be delighted to know how he lives on in these many tributes and memories?

I will always recall Tony as a willing collaborator in some of my "experimental" dance - theater productions of the nineties. I'm not so sure that he totally approved of my non-linear approach, but he took on the coaching of the "speeches" with great enthusiasm. Another of his endearing qualities is the time he took to greet everyone in the most enchanting ways no matter the time of day or his pressing business. I still miss his witty remarks at department meetings too. I'll end by sending great sympathy to Tony's many friends and to his family.

A London Tribute

BY LAURENCE SENELICK, PROFESSOR, SCHOLAR, DIRECTOR. DEPARTMENT OF DRAMA AND DANCE, TUFTS UNIVERSITY
Although I first met Tony and Linda in Cambridge in late 1960s, when we were introduced by our mutual friend, the English designer Franco Colavecchia who was then teaching at Harvard. However, my fondest memories of him come from the mid-1970s, when he was the director of Tufts-in-London and I was the Drama Dept's "man in London" for a year. T-i-L brought out the best in Tony. Dapper, courtly, congenial, he knew everyone from theatrical knights to avant-garde poets to trendy chefs, and was the ultimate resource on any question from voice production for the stage to treks in the Lake District. His knowledge of London was, like Sam Weller's in The Pickwick Papers, "extensive and peculiar." Like a consummate matchmaker, he loved to bring talented people together, affording students and faculty alike an unequalled chance to become part of the cultural life of Britain. Anyone who came in contact with Tony went away enriched.

Our close friendship continued over the years, when he was in the States or I was in England, but was cemented more firmly when he arrived in Medford as Artist in Residence. He became a regular at my Thanksgiving banquets, where he kept the table on a roar with anecdotes: whatever the topic of conversation, Tony had an apposite and witty remark to make. Our frequent meals and theatre get-togethers were always a highlight of my week.

Now for an uncanny coincidence (if one believes in coincidences). Three weeks ago I was in London, and immediately phoned Linda to set a date for tea; of course, I inquired after Tony, to hear that he was much as before. Two days later, I left my hotel, to find that the underground was shut, allegedly because of a "power surge" on the line. No taxis were to had and buses seemed few, so I began to walk the sun-baked two miles to my appointment near Charing Cross Road. For some reason, I turned down a sidestreet I had never been on before, and had proceeded no more than two blocks, when I heard my name called. I looked round and it was Simon Cornish! How nice to see a familiar face on such a troublesome day. "I was speaking with your mother the other day. How's your father?" "Haven't you heard? He died on Tuesday." I was, as the Brits say, gobsmacked. Then Simon pulled me into the pub, and while he related the details, we watched intermittently on a color TV the news of the underground bombings.

The news of Tony's demise coming upon tidings of terrorism stirred in me the banal thought that an "era had ended." The London he had known so well was vanishing.

But then I recalled, back in the mid-70s, the IRA was bombing bloody murder all over London, sandbags were shored up against the Westminster fish restaurant Prunier's, and our bags were regularly inspected in theatre lobbies. That had never dampened his spirits or curtailed his indomitable excursions, whether to Petticoat Lane or a panto in Richmond, all by tube. It also occurred to me that my final question about him would have raised a laugh, since "a bit of how's your father?" is an old Cockney euphemism for "piece of ass." It heartens me to think that Tony's cocky, bawdy, observant ghost may now be hovering as a protective spirit over the city he loved so much.

Tony in A Golf Cart

BY IRENE BALBONI, MANAGER OF MINT MUSEUM RETAIL SHOPS, CHARLOTTE, NC
I may be late in posting my memories of Tony to this site, but not because he hasn't been constantly in my thoughts. I met Tony through my husband Chris Romano
(A79). Tony and I became the best of friends even though our life experiences were completely opposite. Chris and I would meet Tony for dinner once a month and Tony and I would exchange stories about my life as a commercial mortgage banker and his as an artist.

When my husband relocated from Boston to Charlotte, leaving me behind to sell our real estate and pack our belongings Tony kept me company by taking the water shuttle to our home in Weymouth, MA to have delightful and lovely dinners. On one such trip he gave me David McCullough's book on John Adams, which startled me not only because I had mentioned in passing I'd like to read it, but that Tony gave it to me on my birthday.

Tony was one of our first guests in our home in North Carolina, having traveled by train from New York. He and I had many discussions about how he never owned an
automobile and I was so "auto-dependent." When walking through the Tufts-like campus at Davidson College he saw someone riding a golf cart and said that if he were to drive, he'd like it to be something like that!

We last saw Tony a year ago at the home of his devoted friend Kate Blakeslee in Atlanta, GA. At that time he seemed to understand the seriousness of his illness.

I find it sad, as I'm sure do many of you, that the bombing of the London subway happened at the time of his death. Even though I never had the opportunity to
meet his son Simon I worried he may have been traveling by tube that day. I will miss Tony and send my sincere sympathies to Linda and Simon.

Photo

An Original

BY TAYLOR SHANN, TUFTS UNIVERSITY, 2000-2004
Two stories stand out in my memory.

One was at the Spaghetti Night dinner my freshman year, where I and all the other freshman had done our best to look nice (and instead looking like deer-in-the-headlight 7th graders at the middle school dance) and Tony showed up in a forest green, Dick Tracy-era suit. He asked me how I was and I said I was a bit out of it- everyone going around and making small talk and dressed up and serious- and he smiled
and said "Well that's the whole game, isn't it? Don't take any of it too seriously. I don't." And he walked away.

The other was after the Romeo and Juliet cast list went up, and he found me sitting around Aidekman, and he was miffed, asking why I hadn't auditioned. I told him that I was directing the Freshman Show, and that meant I couldn't do his show- in fact, I was holding auditions in about 5 minutes. Not skipping a beat, he said, "Well of
course you couldn't audition. And what are you doing here? Never be late to your OWN auditions!"

He was an original. He was never be afraid to tell any actor, no matter the circumstances, if they were "milking it." He told me that more than once. I will miss him.

Obituary: Nick McCarty

BY NICK MCCARTY
Anthony (Tony) Cornish, television producer, radio drama producer, theatre director and Teacher, died on July 5th 2005... Born in Walthamstow in the East End in 1935 his father was a pianist in various dance bands. Wanting to give his son the best start in life and knowing that ‘Standard English’ (Received Pronunciation) was a necessity at that time, Alf took Tony to meet Dick Williams who ran the speech and theatre department at the Walthamstow Educational Settlement. Learning to speak ‘properly’, performing in plays gave Tony the most immense pleasure and all his spare time was spent at The Settlement. He always said that it was his experience there that led him to the professional theatre.

When he left school, he found a job in the BBC Record Library and when his turn came to do National Service he began his radio career as a broadcaster for Forces Broadcasting whilst stationed in Austria.

After demob he looked for a job in the theatre trade paper - The Stage – and went to an interview at The Spotlight Offices in Cranbourn St. where aspiring, importuning actors were given the opportunity to meet Producers from Regional Repertory Theatres who had jobs to bestow. This led to an offer of the job of Stage Manager at Gainsborough Rep in Lincolnshire. The company did a different play every week and had only one set of scenery. After finishing each Saturday’s performance the whole company would dismantle the set, paint it a different colour and erect it in a different formation to be ready for next week’s play. The organisation and direction of this task was in the remit of the Stage Manager’s job and Tony must have been good at it; within four weeks the name of his job was changed to ‘Stage Director’ - the next rung on the ladder! He still supervised the Saturday task, however and his salary remained the same; £4.50 per week.

Two weeks later and he was directing his first play – still for £4.50 – and when he applied for and was appointed to the post of Theatre Director at the Chesterfield Civic Theatre, he was thrilled.

The repertoire he chose in Chesterfield was ambitious, including as it did a lavish, traditional pantomime for three weeks at Christmas, which allowed two weeks to rehearse the Shakespeare play which followed. At that time, two week’s rehearsal was riches indeed and one actor voiced his fear that he wouldn’t know what to do after one week! Most importantly, it was in Chesterfield where he employed an actress, Linda who would become his wife. She recalls that under the generous tutelage of his Directing style, she experienced herself growing into a better, more accomplished actress.

Eventually, he moved into the BBC Radio Drama Department and was Head of Radio Drama in the Midlands which is where we first met. Over forty years ago I had written my first radio play and Tony produced it... Even then I began to learn from him for he was a consummate teacher.

Tony was a man of the theatre and so many actors, writers and directors owe their careers to his enthusiasm, his honesty and his willingness to take time with them in the early days of their professional lives.

He was a teacher who brought to the table an urgent need to feel that those he was dealing with came with equal enthusiasm. He had no time for the lazy or the hucksters. And he brought this rigour not only to the professional casts he worked with but also to the amateurs whose work he adjudicated all over the world, for which he received a prestigious award in Monaco, and to the undergraduates at Tufts University, Massachusetts, where he taught drama over a period of thirty years.

They were lucky indeed to have been taught and directed by a man who was not only a practitioner but also had an academic background that informed his work on stage, in a radio studio and in the classroom. He was always fully informed by his copious research on any play and could answer the actor’s questions with wit and understanding.

His notes to actors on their performances and to writers on their texts were vivid and perspicacious.

Many of his American students, some from as long ago as the1970’s, on hearing of his terrible illness, have e-mailed and telephoned to discover what they can ‘do’.
One designed a web-site to which others have posted beautiful, loving anecdotes and reminiscences of Tony’s classes and productions and others have sent photos – it can be found at www.celebrate-tony.com . Sadly, Tony himself was unable to look at it or even to grasp the concept of a web-site, but it has brought huge comfort and support to Linda and to Simon Cornish, their son.

There were no half measures with Tony. Last time he and I worked together on radio was on a Unique Broadcasting production of ‘Shane’ for the BBC. As it was being recorded in New York, he wanted an authentic American cast and he could arrange that with comparative ease. But he also wanted the very best, most unique voice he could find to play the narrator of the story. He decided on Howard Keel and whilst the NY ‘show-biz’ pundits told him that it was “……. hardly likely that Howard Keel would want to take part in a radio play for the BBC……” he backed his hunch.

They were wrong, Tony was right and Howard Keel played the role to perfection.

Tony’s life with his partner, wife and dearest friend, Linda was extraordinary. They had such a mutual respect one for the other. Often apart but always together, there was such a remarkable closeness between them and their son, Simon, that those of us who knew them were always delighted to spend time in their company. Their deep sense of loyalty and love towards each other and their friends, constantly reminded us of the gifts Tony gave to us all. The rigorous sense of what was right, the elegant ease and essential good manners which were so much a part of him and the infectious passion for his work – all this made us better at what we do.

Even in his last dark days when he was unable to speak and really did not know who his visitors were, he was unfailingly polite and never revealed that he did not know the person sitting with him until they had left. Then he might ask “And who was that person….. so kind…so kind of them to come. Who was that….?” They would never know he did not remember.

There is one image of Tony that sums him up for me. He was visiting us in France and we’d all gone to Biarritz for lunch. We were sitting in a fish restaurant near the harbour. The sun was high and glittering on the huge confection that stood on our table. Fruits de Mer in a glittering profusion; crabs and langoustines, clams, lobster, oysters, mussels hidden in a cascade of seaweed and ice…And behind this mountain of crustaceans Tony; eyes flashing with delight and lifting a glass of wine before we all tucked into the feast. And the smile…so warm, so happy and so obviously affirming that life, at that very moment, was very very good.

Anthony Cornish will be much missed by Linda and Simon, by friends, by colleagues and by those of us who had the good fortune to be taught by him.

African Dream

BY JOHN GRIFFITHS/PETER QUINCE
Tony and I worked together just the once, but what an experience it was! He directed an innovative and sparkling production of A Midsummer Night's Dream with actors from the Sherman Theatre, Cardiff which toured half a dozen African countries for the British Council in 1987. Among our dates was a stint in the Ugandan capital; in fact we were the first foreign Theatre group to visit since the horrors of Idi Amin . My 40th birthday fell during that week, and , typically, we had two performances that day. Imagine my annoyance when after the matinee Tony chose that day of all days to give me some notes..."Doesn't he know it's my birthday? What a ......!"

It was all a cunning ploy to distract me while the rest of the company prepared a birthday banquet of pork pies, baked beans and Moet, all served at Kampala temperatures!

For that, and many other memorable events on the tour, "Thanks, Tony... Director, Guide and Friend ."

Celebration

BY LINDA CORNISH, LONDON, ENGLAND
Over the last weeks, people have asked about the possibility of a Party in Celebration of Tony's Life. In California a few alums already got together to drink his health in a favourite bar (see picture on the site) but if there's anyone in California or New York who wants to Direct/Stage Manage something either similar or more substantial - please do so.
If neccessary, I can arrange for you to receive a list of names - the venue, catering, invitations & etc would be up to you...Such a task can be very time-consuming and sometimes frustrating - please think about it before you commit yourself.

Obituary: The Independent

BY ANTHONY HAYWARD, THE INDEPENDENT
Anthony Cornish, producer and director: born London 7 April 1935; married 1963 Linda Polan (one son); died Northwood, Middlesex 5 July 2005. Cornish was Co-creator of the TV football serial "United!"

Sipping champagne in St. Tropez during the summer of 1965, Anthony Cornish was thrilled to read a small item in an English newspaper reporting that the football drama he had dreamed up with a fellow BBC Birmingham radio producer was to be launched as a new television serial. Beginning that October, a year before the England team's real-life World Cup victory, United! followed the ups and downs of the fictional Midlands club Brentwich United as a new manager tried to pull the team up for the depths of the old Second Division.

Cornish and Brian Hayles had conceived United! as a serial of six 60-minute episodes focusing on the action on the pitch. But, following the axing of the woman's-magazine soap Compact and the stop-gap serial 199 Park Lane, set in a fashionable London apartment block, the BBC saw the soap potential in United!, which they launched alongside another new serial, The Newcomers - both to be made by BBC Birmingham. Hayles was commissioned to script the first eight episodes of United!, before storylining future episodes for a team of writers, and Jimmy Hill, the Coventry City manager who later became a television football presenter, was appointed technical advisor to ensure authenticity. Authentic or not, though, the BBC insisted that player wore swimming trunks for the post-match showers.

The actor-director Bernard Hepton was producer for the first three months, but Cornish then stepped into that role for half of the serial's entire run, also directing a handful of episodes. One of this first tasks was to replace the actor David Lodge, who played Brentwich's manager, Gerry Barford, and had asked to be written out. Much of the initial action had revolved around Barford's clashes with the club chairman, Ted Dawson (Robin Wentworth), his awkward captain, Jack Birkett (Bryan Marshall), womanizing goalkeeper, Kenny Craig (Stephen Yardley) and striker Jimmy Stokes (George Layton), as well as his relationship with his upper-crust wife, Clara (Joyce Latham). Under Cornish, the team's assistant manager, Bob McIver (John Breslin), moved up to the top job and his replacement was Mark Wilson, played by Ronald Allen, who went on to find soap fame as David Hunter in Crossroads. Cornish also axed seven characters and brought in new writers such as Dick Sharples to make the serial harder-edged and less cozy. However, two other producers succeeded Cornish and United! finally bowed out in 1967, after less than 18 months, many viewers dissatisfied with the balance of on-pitch and off-pitch action.

Born in Walthamstow, east London, in 1935, the son of a dance-band pianist, Anthony Cornish was assistant librarian in the BBC's music record library at Broadcasting House in London, before presenting and producing for the British Forces Broadcasting Service while doing National Service in Austria. He began his theatre career as a stage manager with Gainsborough Rep in 1955, then directed at Chersterfield Civic Theatre. When he switched media to become the BBC's head of radio drama in the Midlands (1964-74), as well as producing scores of programmes, he directed episodes of the long-running serials The Dales and The Archers.

After leaving the BBC, he returned to the stage, directing classical plays at the Bristol Old Vic and a revival of the Wesker Trilogy at the Shaw Theatre, London (1978). For a while he was also head of the now forgotten drama department at Capitol Radio, in London, attracting James Mason, Beryl Reid and many other big stars - as well as a young Tracy Ullman - to "Capital Playhouse" productions.

Cornish also had a 30-year association with Tufts University, in Massachusetts, where he taught acting and directing. He began with its Tufts-in-London programme and was artist in residence in its drama department in the United States, 1991-2002.

Obituary: The Boston Globe

BY GLORIA NEGRI, GLOBE STAFF
Anthony Cornish, an internationally acclaimed British theatrical director, television and radio producer, and teacher who had a long affiliation with Tufts University, died July 5 in Denville Hall, a London nursing home, of pneumonia. He was 70.

Mr. Cornish had been in the nursing home for a year after being diagnosed with motor neuron disease, a degenerative disorder, according to Downing Cless, a former Tufts colleague. In the 1970s, Mr. Cornish was director of Tufts in London, a popular junior-year-abroad program for the university. During that period he came to the Medford campus to direct several productions, said Cless, an associate professor of drama at Tufts.

From 1994 to 2002, Mr. Cornish was a full-time artist-in-residence for acting and directing in Tufts' Department of Drama and Dance and lived in Cambridge.

"During the six years that I was chair of the department, Tony gave 110 percent of his seemingly boundless energy and bright mind to teaching, directing, and services for this department," Cless said in an e-mail.

As a director of a major production each year, Cless said, Mr. Cornish elicited remarkable performances from actors, many of whom were students in his classes.

"Then, on his own time, Tony spent long hours coaching audition pieces for so many of these actors when they were seniors, most of them by that point considering him to be his mentor," Cless said. ''An impressively large number of them are now in the profession."

Many former students have expressed their devotion, admiration, and gratitude to him on a website set up by one of them, Joshua Gates, an actor in Los Angeles.

Among them is the actor William Hurt.

"Tony's demands were pretty stringent, and he gave us strength by that," Hurt wrote on the website. "His productions were magnificently orchestrated and portrayed. In those days, he wore a goatee and dressed and spoke with a panache, which goaded and delighted. He was a completely gifted and enlivened artist of theater, and a great teacher."

Mr. Cornish was born in Walthamstow in London's East End. His father was a pianist with dance bands who sent his son for speech and drama training. That, said Mr. Cornish's son, Simon of England, is what got him interested in theater.

When he left school, he got a job at the BBC record library. When the time came for him to do national service, he served as a radio broadcaster for the British armed forces and was stationed in Austria.

After the service, he got a job as stage manager at Gainsborough Rep, a theater in Lincolnshire. Within four weeks, his son said, Mr. Cornish had been promoted to stage director.

Within a brief time, he was appointed director of the Chesterfield Civic Theatre. One of its actors was Linda Polan, whom Mr. Cornish married.

Eventually, Mr. Cornish moved to the BBC Radio Drama Department and was head of radio drama in the Midlands. In England, Mr. Cornish taught at a number of London's top professional schools of theater, such as Guildhall, and Webber Douglas Academy.

He came to the United States to direct at theaters in New York and Seattle. In the 1980s, he was artist-in-residence at Cornell University.

In her tribute on the memorial website to Mr. Cornish, Nicole Soffin, a New York attorney and part-time performer, recalled studying drama with him at Cornell and how he helped students decide if the theater was really their calling. "I got the distinct sense that he cared too much not to be entirely candid with me," she wrote. "For Tony, the theatre was not about fame or glory. It was about making the world a more thoughtful and beautiful place."

A private funeral service will be held Monday in England. Mr. Cornish's son said in an e-mail that a service will be held later in London and possibly in the United States.

Shell

BY SIMON CORNISH, LONDON, ENGLAND
Andrea took this photo of the scallop shell I have carved which will eventually be placed on Tony's grave in 6 to 8 weeks once it has been overplanted with wild flowers.

A grave close by has some real shells placed over it and I so liked the idea that I thought Tony could have one of his own.

First Steps

BY JOHN ALLAN, OXFORD, ENGLAND
I first met Tony in 1954 when we were both doing military service with the British Army in Austria. Tony was in the Signal Corps and had got himself a job with the British Forces Radio Broadcasting Network as an announcer and a producer-director of feature programmes, drama, readings, quizzes and the like. He encouraged me to take part in some of these and I got to know him well. I found this photo of Tony taken at the final of an inter-regimental General Knowledge Quiz in Klagenfurt in December 1954 (I am the dim figure at the back). Even in those early years he was marvelous at getting the best out of all sorts of people and was always kind, but honest, about their performances, making it clear, for example, in the nicest possible way that I should stay well off stage and stick to doing sound effects. Although our paths diverged widely afterwards, we stayed in touch and met from time to time. He was one of my oldest friends and always a most entertaining and inspiring companion. I greatly appreciate this chance to join in paying affectionate and admiring tribute to Tony. How tragic it is that he should have succumbed to such a terrible wasting illness and been taken from us far too soon.