a personal appreciation

In 1974

47 of the Roy Hart Theatre came to Malérargues from London with the high – even mad hopes of being the most profoundly important movement in theatre of the twentieth century. Deep in the mysterious and difficult Cevenol hills we hoped to find the peace necessary to bring soul back to theatre.

Then we were decapitated by a road accident.

We buried our dead, waited, and were confronted with the question, « Do we dare continue without Roy? » The alternative was to return to London, but for most of us that seemed shameful. We voted to persist.

There were then six years of Stalinist communal madness, living on lentils. Half of us went out to work so that the other half could rehearse and perform. It was terrible, but in my life I am proud of those friends and those years.

Then different personalities, different projects began to emerge, leading to what I consider the golden age of Roy Hart Theatre -  Six or eight different shows with entirely different styles and goals, and all great. One element that fed this freedom and multiplicity was Enrique’s discovery of the writings of Charles Boer, James Hillman and Rafael Lopez Pedraza on mythology. James presented us a freedom and seriousness of thought that helped us avoid becoming a sect.

It could be said that at that time we were an orphaned theatre in search of a new father, but they were not fathers, they were friends – bubbly, fun inspiring friends. James was never a father, he was a buddy. They came to us via Enrique’s correspondence with Charles and James, then a chance meeting with « Pagilacci » in Ascona. Our opera, Pagliacci was not overtly psychological, it was a « show » and it was good and they loved it.

With this proof that we were not some kind of theatrical weirdos they came to visit Malérargues the following winter. They saw all of our shows including a beautiful and unique performance of Pan by Enrique.

They respected what we had achieved and were working for. They were good friends for many years. Charles introduced the idea of « Myth and Theatre » and he, James and Paul Kugler were star speakers for many of its manifestations. They are great friends of Malérargues and the dreams there.

Years later, just on the pavement outside the Broadway and East 4th street market in New York, I met Margot, James’ most beautiful wife, it was an amazing co-incidence. She immediately invited me to dinner and later to stay with her and Jim in their Chelsea apartment. They were so warm and kind to me that I can never forget. I have dreamt of them regularly over the years since and when I knew that James was dying, that friendship drew me back, without hesitation.

James spent his life facing up to and examining pathologies – for what they could give to life. In the living of his own, ultimate pathology he did not renege.

Thursday 27 October 2011: sitting, smiling, drinking and dining around James’ coffin, wondering about the mystery we had just lived, Nor Hall reminded us of the gate keepers at Dephi who put their finger to their lips as the supplicants left the Oracle – « Ssh, don’t tell ». Or did they mean, « Ssh, don’t try to explain ».

Ian Magilton