This week I went to the Theatre Royal Stratford to see a musical called Joan. It was the story of Joan Littlewood who almost single-handedly stopped the theatre from being bulldozed and who built up a company of actors called Theatre Workshop – many of them later to become famous like Barbara Windsor, Harry H Corbett, Richard Harris and Sheila Hancock. It was written and part-performed by our Musical Director, Robert Hyman and was part of the theatre’s 140th birthday celebrations. Well done, Robert.
I say part-performed because Joan was played by Jodie Jacobs, an expressive and formidable actress, while Robert interjected with cameos of the people who crossed her path. This was a special event. As an audience, we sat in the very building she saved, lived in and worked for so many years. She was a pioneer and trailblazer in British theatre and brought whole new ways of working, like connecting with the audience, emphasising movement, improvising and adjusting the performance each night. Big things for the theatre of the day.
Jodie and Robert were a great double act and took us on the up and down journey of Joan. Always subversive and creative, always battling with the powers that be, but ultimately passionate and ambitious, but sometimes vulnerable. Jodie Jacobs brought all that out in her performance, switching from one event to another. The songs were magical and gave space to reflect on how they felt about theatre and life. She sang with such fire that she gave Joan’s uncompromising inner life a voice. I don’t think there was a dry eye in the house.
The audience was rapt, by which I mean there was total silence. It was as if we had taken a collective breath and didn’t want to break the spell between us and the story. There were moments when we joined in and much laughter, but then she held us again.
Joan was a force of nature and kept going until her energy diminished when her partner died. It happens that I met Joan years ago at a party. For a while it was just her and me in a room and I felt her strong presence even though by then she was getting on in years. She had the most beautiful and expressive hands that she used when she spoke and a husky actor’s voice.
This lovely tribute to this unpredictable and powerful personality was played superbly. We were touched by her dreams and how they collided with the reality of an uncaring world who often seemed not to listen. One special dream was for a People’s Palace in the East End – it would be a mixture of arts and pleasures for the people. It was denied to her, and the Philistines won. One day she walked out of the theatre and never returned.
Her legacy lives on in the very walls of the place and with a statue outside the building. She would probably have blown a raspberry and raised two fingers to it, but theatre people know her worth to this day. She truly was indefatigable.
