Edward Bond

18 July 1934 – 3 March 2024

I first met Edward Bond at the National Association for the Teaching of Drama conference in October 1989. I was working with the Actors Group theatre company at the time and following that with the Dukes Theatre in Education Company, which like many others was soon under threat of closure. He gave a key input to the conference - “a potted history of drama”; it was a history of how society has organised itself. It was fascinating and it had the effect of making one see drama’s current situation with a newness and urgency. His conference speech provoked and inspired in equal measure. I started exploring his essays and notes, and I began writing myself, not a play at that point but a manifesto for theatre, written against a backdrop of the closure of the country’s last TIE companies. In the ensuing period Edward was to become a leading voice in the defence of theatre-in-education.

As a playwright he didn’t just concern himself with the art and craft of writing. He was as invested in every aspect of the production of the play, directing, design, through to how it would engage the audience, and what would happen in the gap in which the audience, the actors and the play met. He seemed to be continually formulating new theories of drama as though reality was always running ahead too fast, which of course in a way it was. Each new theory never superseded or invalidated the previous ones, but added to them. His older ideas and polemics are as relevant as if he’d just written them and I find myself going back to them for sustenance. He most recently thought of the audience as the play-within-the- play. It was another way of articulating the new drama he understood we so desperately need. The audience, being the ‘play-within-the-play’, is how the meaning of their daily lives comes into the gap, it’s how they give the drama “its vulnerable objectivity, it’s cultural presence”, (prompted I believe by Hamlet where the play within the play communicates the truth of the situation), something which he felt that the entertainment industry shuts out from its stories.

By this time, (I won’t say late in his career, he would despise that term) Bond had already parted company with the mainstream of English theatre, even though he had produced writing widely acknowledged as among the best in post-war Britain. It was after the RSC put on his play the Great Peace (1985), which he said was a “grotesquely bad production” that was the last straw according to him. He began to think that the English main stages could not be trusted to perform his work as he envisaged it. He decided to focus on productions in France and Germany. The exception to this was his long collaborative relationship with Big Brum whom he wrote for, and which is where I saw his later work performed. Big Brum’s stage was one of the few places where you could see his work produced in the UK.

More recently in 2019, I staged a production of his play, ‘Have I None’. We began a regular correspondence. I found Edward’s generosity towards new writers and directors, underscored his passion and striving for a new form of drama. But I believe that it was also that he simply wanted to be useful as an artist, to theatre practitioners and his audiences. His depth of feeling led him to be regarded by some as too serious and a little po-faced or worse. But he regarded humour and comedy as importantly as intelligence in what makes us human, and saw himself as a comic writer. In fact, the farcical nature of ‘Have I None’ was one of the principal reasons I enjoyed working with actors on it.

Edward’s rigour and exactitude when channelled into his directing work was not always appreciated by some actors. Whilst I never had a first-hand experience of his directing in the rehearsal room, I suspect he was operating in an entirely different paradigm from the more conventional modes many actors are used to. I would have loved to have seen him direct one of his plays, not least because as he said, questions about acting technique could only really be answered in the rehearsal room. After I sent him the reviews I received from my first staging of ‘Have I None’, he picked up on one which referred to me as an ‘actor’s director’. This is what he wrote to me.

I see from the review that you are an actor’s (sic) director. (Read actors’). You couldn’t be more highly praised. Please pass my thanks and congratulations to the actors and company.

His playful shifting of the punctuating apostrophe to the possessive in “Read actors, hinted I suspect at a very different approach.

In November 2022 I spent a morning in conversation with Edward Bond on camera. This was in advance of a further staging of ‘Have I None’ and the film was to be screened after each performance. He answered my many questions with gravitas and humour. His reactions were often unpredictable, he was always on his guard against the habitual behaviour of others, which he understood as a product of society’s implicit ‘training’. He didn’t challenge or provoke for the sake of it, but he did to take an impish delight in contradicting the conventional wisdom.

Shakespeare changed my life, I’d ban him.

He grabs your attention with that statement. But did he really just say that? He chuckles as if he has surprised himself as much as you and then goes deeper to elaborate the why of it.

Shakespeare couldn’t possibly ask the right questions as the world has changed so much… why were there no world wars before World War One? Because the situation didn’t make them, the situation has changed therefore Shakespeare can’t really ask the questions that are important for us today.

He was frequently paradoxical in this way, by his own admission often deliberately so.

Listen to the audience, respect the audience and don’t entertain them. So that’s what I believe… no I don’t, because I (myself) like being entertained.

His programme notes were littered with paradoxes and reversals, frustrating for some, but for many including me, they were markers on the rich trails which could be followed.

With all his theorising I never found Bond’s plays to be didactic. He himself never claimed to have all the answers, but he was most alert to and never turned away from the problems that are so commonly ignored. He leaves behind a tremendous body of written plays, letters, notes and essays on theory. He died in the saddle, with plans to pen a new series of comedies. He said, there is still so much that he has to write and share. He is irreplaceable. It is a huge loss.

Lewis Frost

Edward Bond’s Website

 …using drama with young people, can solve the problems of our society – this is what gives us a possible life in the future… We must create the situations where the young people can say this is what I am, this is what I stand for.

Edward Bond at the 2014 NATD Conference

 At last year’s AGM (2023), Edward Bond was given Honorary Life membership of the Association:

Following his continued, active support for the association and the teaching of Drama-in-Education, his commitment to and concern for young people as well as his commitment to a sixty year development of a radical vision for Theatre and Theatre-in-Education, the NEC is honoured to announce Edward Bond as an honorary lifetime member of NATD.

The motion was passed unanimously.

In 1989, Bond gave a key note address at the NATD conference, The Fight for Drama - The Fight for Education[1] alongside Dorothy Heathcote. It was an electrifying experience at a time when education in general and Drama in particular were under attack as never before. In a postscript to his address when published the following year he laid out his understanding of the centrality of Drama teaching in society and his commitment to those who fight for it:

On reflection I think I didn’t enough stress – directly – the importance of what you do. The ‘self-dramatisation’ of children is really the process by which they’re inducted into society; drama becomes their medium of knowledge and of self. Its conscious examination isn’t, therefore, an extra to education but the foundation of all education: it’s probably the way in which adults retain the philosophical birthright of the child.[2]

Over the next thirty-five years, Bond was actively involved with the Association, contributing some sixteen articles to The Journal for Drama in Education as well as addressing the 2014 Conference in Oxford. He worked extremely closely with Big Brum TIE Company in Birmingham, writing nine plays for them and their director, Chris Cooper. It was an extremely fertile period when little of his work was being performed in this country and he was pushing at the boundaries of what theatre should be and continuously reformulating his thinking alongside the Company.

He was also tireless in his support of members who reached out to him, always willing to reflect on their experiences with them, learning from them and sharing back his interpretations of their world.

Your account of the lives of these young people is shocking in its sweep and terrifying in its details. And other children go to private schools and expensive “crammers” and their parents are misled by rabble-rousing press and abused by trivial media. It makes me angry when politicians and guru philosophers say we live in a democracy.  (I hope it’s the sort of anger that stops you despairing.)[3]

For the past thirty years, our Policy Document has included a statement from Bond at its heart. It is an inspiration and a warning to us all,

The games young children play amongst themselves involve their body and their mind. As they grow they naturally turn more and more to their society for involvement in their games: young people throw open to us all the doors – and if we do not enter the doors we estrange the young, making them society’s enemies or (surely worse) its submissive, irresponsible automatons. This is the punishment we bear for our irresponsibility.

His politics, his challenge, his understanding of Drama, Theatre and humanity will be sorely missed, not least in such dark times.

Guy Williams

[1] Edward Bond: The Fight for Drama. The Fight for Education (youtube.com)

[2] The Fight for Drama – The Fight for Education Ed Ken Byron, NATD, 1990. P21

[3] Unpublished email

Roger Wooster

Roger Wooster, actor, theatre in educationalist and teacher, died on 5th October 2022, after a long courageous and graceful period of living with his cancer.  Roger was a long-time associate of the Standing Conference of Young People’s Theatre (SCYPT) and the National Association for the Teaching of Drama (NATD).  He made significant contributions to the development of the theoretical journal of NATD as a member of its editorial committee over a number of years. 

Shortly before his death, Chris Cooper interviewed Roger at his home in Pontypool, Wales. An edited transcript of that interview will be printed in Volume 37, Issue 2 of The Journal for Drama in Education in recognition and celebration of Roger’s life, his work and his steadfast determination to defend and develop a theoretically guided approach to the related fields of theatre and drama in education.

The full version is available below.

Interview with Roger Wooster

John Airs

11th March 1941 – 20th August 2022

I first met John at a drama course in 1985. He and Chris Ball had recently started working together as drama advisory teachers in Liverpool, and I had recently been appointed as a lecturer in drama at what was then Bulmershe College, and which later became a part of the University of Reading. I warmed to John immediately. He took part in the work of the group with great insight and generosity. Those are qualities he brought to his drama teaching and to all his dealings with people. We developed a friendship which grew ever stronger over time. From very early in that friendship I appreciated that John was a profoundly good man, a man of the greatest integrity.

We worked together on several occasions – all of them richly rewarding and stimulating. I invited John and Chris to run an extended weekend workshop for PGCE and B.Ed students at Reading University. They returned the invitation, and I spent several hugely enjoyable weeks working with them in Liverpool – in schools and with teachers on courses. There is a stereotypical image of drama teachers being extrovert, loud and performative. John was none of those. He brought a fierce intelligence to all his work, and when leading a session, he was quietly reflective and thoughtful, which was strangely liberating and, in its way, quite inspirational. I don’t think he ever really knew quite how influential he was.

Before John and Chris started working together, John had taught English and Drama at Quarry Bank School, Liverpool (which was renamed Calderstones Comprehensive), where he soon took on responsibility for drama  While a student at Edinburgh University and a member of DramSoc he acted in and directed numerous plays. In Liverpool, he directed for Neptune Theatre (now renovated and renamed The Epstein), which was where he and Chris Ball met. Students he taught at Quarry Bank included Jude Kelly, Les Dennis and Clive Barker and numerous others who openly acknowledge how inspirational John was for them. I witnessed this at first hand when with John in Liverpool. I lost count of the number of times people said to John with beaming smiles, ‘Oh, Mr Airs. You taught me…’

When Liverpool Education Authority set up an advisory team for drama, it was to be for just one year but was then extended to two years. John and Chris set about the work wholeheartedly, and the work was seen to be so effective that their contracts were extended further, and they worked together as a team for more than ten years. Everything they did together was truly collaborative.

They worked with children of all ages in nurseries and schools, they ran courses for teachers in Liverpool, they led workshops for NATD, they wrote books about teaching drama, they wrote plays. In 1987, one of these, a radio play, The Speaking Clock, won a Sony Award for best children’s radio programme. Their books included Speaking, Listening and Drama: KS2 Years 3-4, Key Ideas in Drama and Drama Guidelines (not to be confused with the London Drama publication), which was subsequently republished by Heinemann USA as Taking Time to Act. They were valuable resources. It was, however, their large-scale immersive projects that John looked back at and spoke of with greatest pride and pleasure in the years of his retirement. These projects involved children and teachers from several different schools (including special schools) and sometimes students in higher education. The dramas took place in castles, museums, cathedrals, quarries and parks. They usually involved well over 60 pupils from a range of settings, professional actors and 20-30 teachers. Over the years, organists, falconers, composers, film directors, camera operators and television companies participated in these projects, often volunteering their time and expertise. Schools and universities recognised that these exciting pieces were not only a focal point and stimulus for drama work but also for history, PSHCE, geography, literacy, maths etc. The drama would last for as long as 4 hours, and always the children made key decisions about the course of the narrative and reflected on the characters and the unfolding story. Articles about these projects appeared in the Times Educational Supplement, and some were documented by the BBC.

Sadly, I didn’t personally take part in or witness the giant dinosaurs (puppets) being unloaded from a police horse box into an enormous quarry in Runcorn where children from Liverpool special schools would devise strategies to protect them from Major Killthelot (also a large Welfare State style puppet) and from a vantage point overlooking the quarry would relay information on the quest via walkie talkie to fellow pupils below. Nor did I participate in the search for Quasimodo and Esmerelda in the Anglican cathedral, or the projects in Calderstones Park or Chester Cathedral. But I know from talking with John and others who took part that this was the kind of work which really does change lives, and that it was cross-curricular in the fullest sense – in that it enabled all those taking part to see that what really matters in education, as in life, is our collective humanity, not small, restrictive labels; and that what we do in one area always affects others.

After taking advantage of a pension enhancement scheme, John became a freelance education consultant, working with lecturers and students at John Moores University, Liverpool Hope University, Edge Hill University, and LIPA. He was made an Honorary research fellow at Liverpool University.

John was a long-term member of NATD, serving on the National Executive Committee and on the editorial board of The Journal – where he was as rigorous, insightful and supportive of others as he was in his practical drama work.

John was a true socialist, who believed wholeheartedly in the benefits of collaboration, and in the power of the collective – which was evidenced in his approach to educational drama, where everything he did demonstrated that respect for the learners and their emotional safety was essential if true learning is to take place. His socialism was driven by a deep sense of the need for fairness and humanity. That was why he also espoused so wholeheartedly the Palestinian cause and was an active member of Liverpool Friends of Palestine, with whom he visited the West Bank village of Bil’in. He also worked with teachers (most of them from Palestine) at one of the Al Qattan summer schools in Jordan. Several years later, I led workshops at the same summer school. I found it remarkable (but not surprising) how fondly he was remembered by all who’d worked with him.

And despite always being firm in his deeply held values and convictions, he brought genuine humility to his dealings with others.

I stayed with John and Jane on numerous occasions and was always welcomed with such warmth and generosity. Because of the distance involved in travelling, we did not see each other as often as I would have liked. But it was a friendship which grew in depth and strength. There have been numerous times when I sought his professional advice; and just as many when I felt enriched by his company, his sense of humour and his intelligence. I already miss him greatly, as I am sure do all who knew him.

John is survived by Jane (they would have celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary next year), Robbie (John’s stepson), their son Jamie, and two adored (and adoring) grandchildren, Jack and Molly.

John Airs died in the Marie Curie Hospice, Liverpool, in the early hours of 20th August 2022 after a long struggle with cancer.

Brian Woolland

September 2022

With many thanks to Chris Ball and Jane Airs for their help and advice in writing this.

 

 

 

Bill Roper

 
Bill Roper

Bill Roper

I don't know if what I'm doing makes any sense but this is how social media will offer a way to publicly manage your thoughts and feelings by filling the void of a non-existent ′′ god ′′....

On Wednesday 11th August a man I greatly appreciated left. A quiet man. A very quiet man who had a very quiet death...

But with an extremely dynamic pen and deep knowledge. Which would never give you the impression that he promotes himself or has personal motivation for anything. From those who don't make noise and so stay in obscurity... beyond his writings that unfortunately remain mostly among his acquaintances and friends.

But he was searching till the end. And he always offered his knowledge to those who asked him to. Since I met him, in 1996, he struggled to the end to find answers to who we are, why we think, what we have to do with the world, how we can change our perceptions and our world, get rid of problematic ideologies... and we always asked him to help us understand... and he always accepted... without any return..... UNTIL THE END...

I'm probably lucky enough to be one of those he talked to and have one of his last, if not the last, texts commenting on an article of mine where he mentions Lacan, of course. He was a deeply Lacanian psychologist... but I never caught up, though, to tell him how much he influenced me in my thinking and especially in relation to the way I work with drama. Maybe because, many times, we get the impression that the people we value will never die...

I owe him a piece of what I do at work and the way I think. And I'm so sorry he didn't know he had an impact on me. I'm so sorry.

Bon voyage dear friend Bill Roper. I will miss you...

Kostas Amoiropoulos

I first met Bill at Birmingham Polytechnic in about 1978. My first imagined memory of him would be of Bill sitting in our staffroom studying closely a copy of The Racing Paper and on the table in front of him Wittgenstein’s Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, Wittgenstein’s first treatise on philosophy, along with a copy of Philosophical Investigations, Wittgenstein’s  posthumously published treatise on philosophy which completely revised his previous approach. Bill was not really a gambler but loved to try to work out the relationship between what he could find out about the horse, jockey, trainer, previous races and so on in great detail and then put perhaps a £1 on a horse just to see how near to correct he was. But he was into philosophy.

We had the luxury of a Philosophy Society in those days and one of our subjects was Wittgenstein. I remember Bill arriving with both volumes under his arm and the rather awed response by the philosophy of education lecturers present when they saw him open the two volumes, fully annotated, with highlightings throughout, in order to make a point backed up by quotes. I guarantee he was the only person in the room who had read both books.  I suspect the others, including myself, had not even read the whole of one of them.

We became colleagues and quickly became friends – close friends for life. We lived near each other and would sometimes go for a pint in the evening together and talk and talk and share arguments, listen to each other, change our minds, go back to our reading and so on. We shared our ups and downs, our theory and the practicalities of our lives from brewing our own beer and fermenting home-made wine to the problems with our relationships.

As Bill puts it in his latest article written as a response to my Dublin keynote ‘I feel as though it wasn’t just in drama/theatre, education and politics [that we met up] but also in psychology and philosophy: Bruner, Vygotsky, Hegel, Marx, Lenin, met up with what I brought: Skinner, Neisser, Locke, Wittgenstein, Goffman’. As the years passed he moved so much further ahead with his studies of Lacan. He left me far behind and I never was able to catch up. Literally up until a few weeks before he died he was still feeding me with new thinking on philosophy, social and personal psychology and many other areas. I was constantly testing his patience by my poor ability to assimilate even the most elementary dimensions of Lacanian theory. He was remarkably widely read with such a deep knowledge of psychology, philosophy, politics, music, art, and culture in general: a quiet man who did not show off his knowledge.

Back in the 70s I asked Bill to contribute to my PGCE drama course and to work on learning and teaching theories. We worked well together. We were both active in the union branch and in the early 1980s I came into dispute with my line manager. My Head of Department was trying to get me to work on other courses apart from my drama courses which would have meant working over my agreed hours. I took it to my union and they supported me. Bill backed me up entirely throughout the dispute. We were moving to full scale union action on the matter when the Head of Faculty and my Head of Postgraduate Studies decided to back off. They realised at the last moment they would lose the case. On the evening before the dispute meeting one phoned me and the other phoned Bill to try to persuade us to drop the matter. We didn’t have a chance to confer but independently we both refused. The next day we won the union case. We were the only two in the Faculty to refuse the £1000 buy off money from senior management to ditch our Silver Book conditions of service. We stayed on them to the end. It was that sort of solidarity, close thinking and trust that cemented our friendship.

I remember he was swimming regularly at the time he met his long-time partner Jayne. She was also a regular swimmer. She told me recently that she was trying to lose half a stone to get her Weight Watchers badge. Bill was swimming to try to settle himself after his divorce. Jayne was engaged at the time but that did not stop a romance blossoming. One day Bill said to me ‘I think I’m in love’. They got together and Jayne became the mother of his two fine sons. He was very proud of them but also worried a lot about them. We shared it all.

Bill was remarkably patient. I never knew him lose his temper although he must have at some time or other. I never had an angry word from him even though I tested his patience on many an occasion.

Bill taught at Birmingham City University (formerly Birmingham Polytechnic and then the University of Central England) from 1978 to 2013 as a Social Psychologist mainly within the School of Sociology. He worked with me on the PGCE, and M.A., Drama in Education courses and with doctoral students. He was committed to teaching and developing psychology within interdisciplinary contexts and to find a social psychology that both built upon and was adequate to the arts, theatre and drama in education. He published some 14 papers in that field. He presented some 14 keynotes and papers at different conferences both in this country and in China, France, South Africa and Canada: all quietly, almost unnoticed by his University. A most modest man.

In his last months, when he was suffering from his cancers, we were in almost daily contact. Despite his illness he wrote an amazing response to my Dublin keynote which I promised I would get published somehow. His loyalty to Jayne in her time of illness has been a lesson to me in steadfastness: another gift.

At the latest hour of his illness Bill arranged for us to speak on the phone to say goodbye to each other and both expressed our love and admiration for the other: typical Bill - clear thinking to arrange it in time. I was in denial. He was totally clear where things stood.

He died in the early hours of the 28th July 2021.  We’ve lost a remarkable man. We’ll miss him. I’ll miss him.

David Davis

23.8.21