In 1820, Percy Bysshe Shelley began his poem ODE TO A SKYLARK with the words “Hail to thee, blithe Spirit! Bird thou never wert!” A hundred and twenty years later prolific playwright Noel Coward would turn Shelley’s opening verse into a comedy that would be in production – somewhere – constantly, for the next 77 years.
Interestingly, Shelley wrote his poem while on a visit to Italy. He and his wife Mary had returned from an evening walk, where they had been serenaded by an actual skylark. Coward wrote his play while huddling in a tunnel. He was being serenaded by Germans dropping actual bombs over his head.
So what’s my involvement in all this? First of all, I owe it to Noel Coward. I directed a production of BLITHE SPIRIT in 1973, and it was a bad presentation. Bad. Everything that could go wrong with a show, did. It was so bad, it was funny for all the wrong reasons. How bad was it? During the middle of our Act I, Noel Coward died - literally. I have no idea how he knew what we were doing to his play, but for the past 35 years I’ve felt like I’ve owed Sir Noel a good show, and I always pay what I owe.
And next, I owe the theatre where the play is being produced. I had been hired to direct a play there about a dozen years ago, and was forced to back out of my contract because of personal problems. Now I was asked to replace a director who dropped out at the last possible moment.
Pay back. Here I could kill two birds with one stone. Uh … let me rephrase that …
It is now a dozen hours later, and the stage set has been roughed in. It doesn’t look like it here, but it’s going to be a good set. With a good cast. In a good show.
Hey Noel! I want my marker back!
Interestingly, Shelley wrote his poem while on a visit to Italy. He and his wife Mary had returned from an evening walk, where they had been serenaded by an actual skylark. Coward wrote his play while huddling in a tunnel. He was being serenaded by Germans dropping actual bombs over his head.
So what’s my involvement in all this? First of all, I owe it to Noel Coward. I directed a production of BLITHE SPIRIT in 1973, and it was a bad presentation. Bad. Everything that could go wrong with a show, did. It was so bad, it was funny for all the wrong reasons. How bad was it? During the middle of our Act I, Noel Coward died - literally. I have no idea how he knew what we were doing to his play, but for the past 35 years I’ve felt like I’ve owed Sir Noel a good show, and I always pay what I owe.
And next, I owe the theatre where the play is being produced. I had been hired to direct a play there about a dozen years ago, and was forced to back out of my contract because of personal problems. Now I was asked to replace a director who dropped out at the last possible moment.
Pay back. Here I could kill two birds with one stone. Uh … let me rephrase that …
It is now a dozen hours later, and the stage set has been roughed in. It doesn’t look like it here, but it’s going to be a good set. With a good cast. In a good show.
Hey Noel! I want my marker back!
oh. And, uh, this picture? It's an art deco elevator button from a 1932 movie. What does it have to do with Blithe Spirit? Nothing. Nothing at all. I just liked the picture.
And how was your day?
JB
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