The playwright and director John Gardiner died July 2, after a long and courageous fight against cancer. To many he will be remembered as the dynamic artistic director who lifted the Bancroft Players from the doldrums in the early 1970s and was its most inspiring producer until his departure in 1988 to found Hertfordshire Theatre School. As with so many of his shows there was ‘standing room only’ at John’s funeral at St Mary’s Church, Hitchin, on Monday July 23. Bancroft Players chairman Richard Whitmore, was one of those who spoke at the service. Here is the text of his eulogy:Those of us paying tribute to John today can provide only glimpses of the extraordinary achievements of our friend who, over 40 years, inspired literally hundreds of pupils, actors and sportsmen to reach heights of achievement that they had probably only ever dreamed of. Today, first and foremost, our hearts, our love and our sympathy are with Barbie and her family. But they want this farewell to be as much a celebration of John’s life as the mourning of his passing. And, as so much of that life involved laughter, when the opportunity presents itself, let it be so even today.
John was the biggest single influence on theatre in North Hertfordshire in our lifetime. Amateur drama enthusiasts of my generation first got to know him in 1966 not long after he had come to take up a teaching post at Hitchin Grammar School. He’d offered to stage a show for Carnival Week in aid of the hospital. He picked a team of 12 of us from local theatre groups and called the company ‘The Externals.’ The blatantly camp humour in some of his sketches and songs was new to dear old Hitchin and seemed terribly risqué at the time. Our audiences loved it, but when they flocked back for more the following year they were in for a shock.
John had decided that we should become the first amateur group to stage Joan Littlewood’s amazing Oh What a Lovely War. Despite his own unforgettable performance as the Drill Sergeant (surely the funniest 10 minutes ever witnessed on the Town Hall stage) people were upset by the powerful anti-war theme, with protest songs sung to the tunes of much-loved hymns. Some of the audience walked out; others later rose to deliver a standing ovation; leaving us quietly satisfied that we had made our point. I doubt anyone in the cast has forgotten the first rehearsal; when we sat spellbound by a Gardiner lecture that – for the first time for most of us — put the hideous folly of The Great War in its true perspective.
From that evening on, John had our undivided attention. The show was a sign of great things to come. It was also our first experience of what I would call ‘proper’ acting, when we found ourselves not just performing lines but (almost oblivious of the audience) becoming totally absorbed in the event we were portraying. From then on, any show ‘directed by John Gardiner’ meant good box office; over eight years, his Carnival Week productions raised thousands of pounds for Hitchin’s hospitals.
When the Externals disbanded in 1973, the Bancroft Players were going through a difficult patch. Work and retirement had taken their four leading directors to other parts of the country. It was John who saved the day by agreeing to become our artistic director. As Kirk Foster said in his tribute in The Comet: ‘John lifted the players from an ordinary amateur society to one of such standing and reputation that they were capable of raising funds to build the prestigious Queen Mother Theatre.’
Not only was John a highly innovative director, he had an extraordinary knack of drawing remarkable performances from the most unlikely people. We saw it in ‘The Crucible’ and ‘Judgement at Nuremburg’ – plays then rarely performed by amateurs – and staged in our tiny theatre at St Anne’s Hall by a cast that sometimes outnumbered its audience.
At the Town Hall, he broke the mould by staging major productions ‘in the round.’ With his production of Julius Caesar we first began to appreciate his great knowledge and love of Shakespeare. Later came National Health and the pastoral Larkrise to Candleford when he created magical scenes of harvesting farm workers and lured the audience into leaving their seats to join in a joyful dance to celebrate ‘Harvest Home’.
The following year the Town Hall became a sweltering jungle in the Far East for Sergeant Mitchum’s platoon in The Long and The Short and The Tall. When Ron Decent, the actor playing Mitchum, fell ill just before opening night John took over the role. No-one would have guessed he was standing in at the last minute. A few years later (at the vulnerable age of 50 when he should have known better) he stood in for an injured Keith Swainston and submitted himself to being hurled round a wrestling ring by a fearsome female wrestler (Sue Mason) in Trafford Tanzi. The Players also had the privilege of staging world premieres of musicals that John wrote with his associate Andrew Parr. Big Al – the life story of Al Capone — and RockaSocka a spoof on world cup football.Rehearsing one of his new shows was, as they say, ‘an experience.’ The script arrived a bit at a time on hurriedly typed pages. For a while, we were puzzled by the significance of the date 1811 that appeared regularly on every page. Then it dawned on us that ‘1811’ should have been ‘I’ll’ – the shift key on John’s old Underwood typewriter had given up the ghost. When he’d thought up his latest song, John would call his MD down to rehearsal half an hour ahead of the cast and ‘la-la’ the tune. The MD would then have 20 minutes to knock it into shape. The cast appeared at 7:30 and learned the song, which John then choreographed. By 10 p.m. it was blocked and in the bag — and time to head for the Coopers Arms.
But it wasn’t just John’s shows that strengthened our society. There were the brilliant social events, workshops, visiting speakers, film shows. The annual highlight – always over-subscribed — was The Bancroft Players Dirty Weekend. Heaven knows what the residents of Brighton and Bognor thought when we ‘hit town’ proudly flashing our Dirty Weekend badges. In fact, it was all very innocent (more or less) usually involving a theatre visit, a trip round a stately home and mad games and competitions that only occasionally disrupted the sedate life of the hotel where we were staying.
As our artistic director, John was the first to bring top West End artistes to the Queen Mother Theatre. Prunella Scales as the young Queen Victoria, Alec McCowen as Kipling. John spotted Fascinating Aida at the Edinburgh Fringe when they were still unknown and booked them for our next season for £150. By the time they came, TV had made them a household name commanding £1,500 a show, but they made their agent honour the original unwritten agreement struck in an Edinburgh bar with John.
Our biggest fear was that it would only be a matter of time before JG was lured to London by some lucrative offer from a production company or broadcasting organisation. There, without doubt, he could have earned a fortune. But he chose to stay among us to pursue his prolific career as a playwright and director. Ever busy, but always available to give us his wisdom and his time. How lucky we were — how many of us here today are the richer for it.
John’s last public performance was in April, when he proposed the toast at our Golden Wedding lunch. Conscious of his fast-deteriorating health, Wendy and I told him we’d quite understand if he didn’t feel up to it. We should have known better. After keeping us reassured with e-mails signed endearingly ‘Tiny Todger of Tilehouse Street,’ he was, of course, a storming success. As always, unable to resist the chance of blending sincerity with a whiff of outrageous scandal:
“Throughout Richard’s time at the BBC,” he said, “Wendy was always there to give support. Even late in his career when he left the Corporation amid some gossip that Graham Norton was, in fact, Richard and Angela Rippon’s love child.”
Yes. We shall miss him! Thanks, old friend, for everything.
See "John Gardiner remembered"
Copyright © 2007 The Bancroft Players
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