Gospel of St Markaccording to actor Alec McCowen

Press, 10 May 1980, Page 15

Gospel of St Markaccording to actor Alec McCowen

From

KEN COATES

in London

How the British actor Alec McCowen came to make theatre history with his one-man performance of St Mark’s Gospel is an extraordinary story of s i n g 1 e-mindedness and total dedication. It is an enterprise which at the outside, could hardly have been considered a box-office success, yet it was a sensation in London. The then Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr Coggan, came back-stage to congratulate McCowen after seeing it. When it was presented at the White House, President Carter, who had read the gospel himself in preparation for the performance* led a standing ovation. Alec McCowen. a most interesting . and adventurous actor, describes how he came-to embark on his unusual project in an autobiography just published by Elm Tree Books called ‘‘Double Bill.” Full of lively self awareness. the actor’s book recalls how in the summer of .1976 he felt his life was at. a low ebb. There seemed no reason for this, as he had had a most successful career. He had acheived fame at 42 with his role as Father Rolfe, the little man who imagines he is the Pope in the play, “Hadrian VII.” And at 51, he was appearing in the theatre in London in “The Family Dance,” which was playing to good houses arid had a strong cast But McCowen felt tense and trapped. He had no hobby to which to turn. He decided- he would work at a one-man show . in his spare time, and for ' his own amusement. He turned to the Bible, wondering why it had been so neglected in the . theatre, “but the very rice paper the words were printed on seemed delicate and holy, as if printed for sickly invalids.” He looked over the gospels of St John. Matthew and Luke, but they were too daunting. Then he read Mark. It. may- be the shortest gospel. he writes, but it is believed to have been actually related to Mark by Jesus’s disciple, Peter. If this is the' case- he says, then it is the nearest thing we have to a firsthand account of the ministry of Jesus. He describes the writing as spare and blunt, but moving with wonderful speed, from event to event. It even made him laugh. But then he thought: “That can’t be right. You can’t have laughs in the New Testament.” The pace of the story increased with startling power • — it was an amazing piece of reporting. Then McCowen started learning the whole of St Mark’s gospel, at an aver- ■ age rate of three verses early each morning. It usually took him two hours. It was one of his fears that reciting the gospel might be a dull exercise and that he would have to manufacture energy. But as he went on, he became more afraid that he would not have the energy to sustain it; afraid that the speed of Mark’s reporting might defeat him. But he was also thrilled with “the greatest script I had ever found.”

M c C o w e n became hooked on the gospel, but. had to slog away at the donkey work of learning it by heart. He maintains that there is no secret formula for this. “You sit. or stand, or walk, and learn your lines,” he writes; Most actors, he says, take the script, and with a card, or envelope, or even their hand, go down the page- over and over and over again, slowly driving the lines into their heads. Learning St Mark took him 16 months, but he describes the effort as a great pleasure. Until he learned the lines, he did not fully understand them. It was a revelation of an extraordinary man; of extraordinary events, and of extraordinary’ hope. Learning St Mark in the King James version revealed a direct, almost naive style which was sometimes consciously humorous, and often impressively’ particular'in detail. The actor claims that whether one is a believer or not, it is impossible to study St Mark carefully’ and not know without any shadow of doubt that something amazing happened in Galilee 2000 years ago. The most difficult part was not in learning the lines, but in bringing them to life; to compel an audience to listen; to watch him; to hold . its attention, to involve the people there; to entertain them. This meant he had not

only to interpret the text, but as his own director, be. responsible for presentation of the gospel, on stage. ' Alec McCowen describes the long and often agonising process of. working this out, rehearsing alone in his living room, sometimes making up dummies with cushions and photographs of his friends which he placed on the sofa facing him. It was too small and cramped in his London flat, so he went down to Sandgate, Kent, where- he part-owns a rambling garden flat. It was here, with, the furniture stacked against the wall, that he worked out his movements in St Mark. He would drive down to the coast, stock up with food and drink from a large store in Folkestone and rehearse alone at all hours of the day and night. In the early days of rehearsal, he inevitably, fell into the trap of making Jesus sound “holy” and “self-righteous.” This, writes McCowen, is a well-intentioned error which has led many professional actors astray — to say nothing of the clergy and readers of lessons in churches. it seems proper, he goes on, to. be devout and respectful when speaking the words of Christ, but this usually leads to a lifeless and solemn interpretation, making Jesus sound remote and wishywashy. It was also very easy to make Jesus sound longsuffering, especially with the disciples, but this produces an unpleasantly martyred tone. McCowen gives the example, among others, of

Christ being asked by friends and disciples to explain again the parable of the sower. He replied. "Know ye not this parable? And how then will ye know all parables?" If this is said sadly or patiently. Jesus sounds like a prig, says the actor. It is surely spoken with astonished, healthy saracasm. And there is the feeding of the 5000 in the desert when Jesus asks his disciples: “How many loaves have ye?” He added- the tiny line, "Go and see.” McCowen doubts if Jesus said this patiently, and imagines his disciples looking at him in total disbelief, probably about to answer back derisively, and Jesus shouting, “Go and see.” There is no sign of “gentle Jesus meek and mild” in St Mark’s Gospel, according to McCowen. For a long time, the actor thought about the voice of Jesus. With a play, this is something that usually emerges. The voice of a character usually dictates itself, he says, 'by his actions and intentions. But St Mark’s Gospel is not a play, and he was not acting the role of Jesus. He was trying to tell the story of Jesus, and some story-tellers do lifelike impersonations. He considered giving Christ and his disciples country accents, perhaps a Kentish accent such as he had

when . a schoolboy. He tried other accents. and even for a week or so, a Scottish burr. Then ’he came to the end of “this nonsense.” It was a lack of faith. When. the. arduous task of learning the lines was nearly ? ..done, McCowen began "to record his performance‘bn tape. He ran the whole gospel without a break, needing to get used to the energy and -concentration required. When satisfied that he had reached performance level, he recorded ’ the whole gospel and played-it back. It was terrible, he writes. He found it impossible to listen to himself: it was formal, lifeless, boring and monotonous. He sat in - silence for a very long time, and it seemed as though he was defeated. He could not bring the gospel to energetic life. Looking back, he says he had forgotten that gospel means “good news.” x As an actor, he had learned to interpret his, 6wii enjoyment of a role as indulgence; he had long since found that the more he was enjoying himself on. stage, the less the audience seemed to enjoy it- • . " r The best acting, he says, occurs ‘ when an actor totally dedicates himself to his performance, which means that he must forget himself and concentrate only on the character he is playing. But with St Mark, he became aware that he must enjoy himself, or the recital would be lifeless. The old rules did not apply, he writes. He was no longer an actor, but a story-teller, and as much should enjoy himself. A

good story-teller’s enjoy* ment is infectious. So after that final rehearsal tape at Sandgate, he took the advice his father used to give when he was at a low ebb; he treated himself to a really good meal. At midnight, he recalls, he .was “feeling no pain.” . And just for the fun of it, he started to recite St Mark and switched on the tape-recorder. His performance seemed almost blasphemous with reckless enjoyment, and he expected to be struck down. But for the first time, he really told “the good news” with confidence. McCowen- recalls his . first public performance of St Mark — .to a little audience in the Theatre Royal, Newcastle. They. did not make a sound for the entire two-hour recital. except -for some .students who made a deafening noise during the verses about the, transfiguration finishing off packets of potato crisps. (The distraction of noise was a constant worry during the solo perform-, ances). ■ ' ' He ended -the performance, walked off stage and went to his dressing room. Nobody came to see him. Sixteen months’ work, waking at dawn, studying St. Mark verse by verse, was over. Suddenly, as he sat there, the door crashed

open, and a large, dishevelled young man staggered into the room. He said he was: a painter who wanted to ask one question: "Why the hell did you learn it? Why didn’t you just read it?” McCowen recalls suppressing a rising desire to sob, and heard himself shouting back: “Why don’t you just take photographs 9” The man stared back, smiled and said: “Point taken, I’ll buy you a pint.” In his book, the actor describes in detail, and with perceptive selfanalysis, how, St Mark was presented in London, first at the Riverside Theatre (there were only three bookings for the opening performance), then at the Mermaid and later in the West End. He played to an audience of bishops and did a tour of the United States. St Mark was televised, and performed for. charity in Westminster Abbey. McCowen does not look on himself as a religious man. He says it makes him very uneasy to be asked whether he is a Christian. “It seems,” he writes, “very unlikely that anyone.' least of all oneself, can be a judge of this. “If there is any judging to be done, if there is any seal of approval, if there are any awards to be given, these must surely be based on behaviour, as well as belief.”