PETER BROOK’s SPEECH
October 31, 2007
Hello. I wish I could be with you but I feel I am. Looking round, I see many old friends and think I recognise some critics. They’re just who I need. I’ve got a dilemma. Supposing I see a show I truly dislike – perhaps a fine work whose quality has been lost - what biting word could I find to describe it that couldn’t possibly be taken as praise. It’s not so easy.
For instance - ‘Crude’ – this could well be a compliment – ‘vulgarised’, even more so. ‘Outrageous’, ‘Obscene’, ‘Ridiculous’ – I go through all the synonyms. At last I find a word that no one likes to hear - ‘Cheap’. You pay for an overpriced seat and you’ve been cheated. It takes a lot of money to be really cheap.
When I was a child, the expression was ‘cheap and nasty’. But today, if you say a show is nasty, people will flock in, the management will put it up in capitals on the posters. Even ‘deadly’ - are we sure it’s not somehow reassuring. And as for ‘boring’ – if it’s Beckett, we say, “let’s take the risk’.
No, the biting word is ‘cheap’ – ‘cheapened’. Like all strong words it implies its opposite and the opposite of ‘cheap’ is ‘quality’ .
No one can define quality. But an act of theatre can sometimes turn quality into an unforgettable experience.
Today, the worldwide spread of the electronic media has done us a great service. Now that everything is so accessible, theatre in its essential smallness is no longer ‘elitist’. As long as the prices are low and the costs controlled, its smallness is what can make it so special.
All of us here, year after year, representing the many different sides of the theatre puzzle, carry the same obligation. In this exposed, small, concentrated field, imagination, courage and risk will only survive if there is generous praise, unstinted support and above all cash, cash without ties, nor agendas nor impositions.
Ask Blanche!...
She’s a fighter, a fundraiser, a passionate enthusiast and a stern critic. The critic has always had an indispensable role to play. The critic is the reminder of a scale of values. This is not easy. Yet, there’s a simple test. If values emerge from a shared yet unexpected human experience, if, when we leave the performance, we take something special with us – and, above all, if a fine trace remains – it cannot be cheap.
There was a time when the theatre seemed to have lost its function. Today, when the overall drift of the planet is a steady cheapening, the theatre in its essential smallness can still – sometimes – stand against the tide.
Peter Brook
Paris, October 2007