Form and Structure

BY TIM LUSCOMBE,WRITER/DIRECTOR, ENGLAND
I first knew Tony when i was a student in directing at the Bristol Old Vic Theatre School in the mid ‘80s.

Each of us six students on the year long course were assigned a proper show to be an Assistant (to the) Director on, and as luck would have it I was assigned to Tony’s production of The Voysey Inheritance by Harley Granville Barker.

Things didn’t get off to a good start when we first met. I was to liaise with him in the foyer of the Bristol Old Vic, but i had no idea what he looked like. Seeing a man approach me who liked like my idea of a dirctror i said to him ‘Ah, are you Tony Church?’. ‘No,i am Anthony Cornish!’, he said, and fixed me with what was not going to be the last beady glare he ever gave me. He was so easy to hurt and i proved to be rather good at doing it over the years. Then he saw my genuine embarrasment and gave me a forgiving smile and took me off to have a chat about what my role was going to be in the show.

I didnt know much about directing when i started work with Tony on that show, but by the time it was up and running I’d learned about as much as i know now after 20 years of doing it professionally.

Tony taught me little formally but by his living example he taught me about form and structure, how to handle actors, how to coordinnate departmental heads, how rigorous to be with text, how to research and structure a rehearsal period, and also how to have a great Italian meal afterwards.

After our work on the show had finsihed, i went into one of those post-show dives that one does if one doesnt have something to immediately go onto. It had been, after all, my first proper show, even if I was only a glorified tea maker. I phoned Tony at his home in Judd Street to tell him about my grief. ‘What do you think it’s like for me?!’ he more or less screamed at me down the phone! It had been a very successful show and Tony was feeling the end of it as we all were. ‘Oh’, l said to him, ‘do you still feel like that after doing so many shows? Doesn’t it get better?’ ‘No, he said, lagubriously,‘it gets worse’. Another valuable lesson.

I persuaded the head of the Old Vic School to let Tony come and talk to us directing students about life and art. It was generally felt that we learned more from his few sessions with us than from anything else we picked up from our year at the school. I still think of how he taught us then before i go in to teach dircetors or writers now.

Tony employed me twice after that, on radio shows, as his assistant,and encoruraged me with my own shows after that, and with my writing.He was the first person i showed my first proper play to and his comments were thourough and incredibly useful. He threw light on things to do with the theatre with great economy and kindness and precision. He was able to diagnose the problems in my writing immediately and saved me a lot of heartache and time later on.

He also taught me about teaching directing. He was one of the few in those early days of our knowing each other who believed directing theatre could be taught, and he was frustrated there were so few opportinities for teaching it in the UK.

Later on, when i was directing in the West End, and was in the enviable position of being unavailable to reahearse in a new cast to one of my shows, Tony took over the reigns. He was humble enough to accept this temproary change of roles with grace and enthusiasm. I knew the show would be in good hands. He was fatithful to my work, and
of course made a few clever improvements.

He took me to Venice and taught me all about food and architecture, too!

He took me to Ibiza and taught me a great deal about having fun.

As a young gay man in london, i was fortunate indeed to have such a mentor in life as well as art. He represented a different generation from mine, and our meetings helped me keep my feet (almost) on the ground in the mad whirl of gay Londom life in the late 80s.

I was very lucky to know him. Perhaps luckier than I can tell. He kick started my career. And he supported me through thick and thin with his moral and artistic wisdom and loving kindness. i shall miss him very much.