‘The Oscar Speech’ Blog

‘I am so happy to receive this award for ‘Edith, Elizabeth and I’, and although it is a one woman show, no woman is an island… I am indebted to…’

Alright, I’m jumping the gun, no glittering prizes just yet; in fact I have only just finished the second draft of the script. But with a rehearsed reading under our belts, Estate and Industry previews looming and a management team ready to book that tour, we are so much further along the line then I ever imagined and I can’t help getting a little excited. So much has happened in the last year…and at the risk of sounding a bit Gwyneth Paltrow or Kate Winslet- I couldn’t have done all this without the other people involved. So here’s a bit of a name check.

First of all Simon Magnus. He’s been on board as a creative collaborator, for nearly two years now. It’s all his fault that we’re not doing a straight biography of Edith Sitwell! And I am eternally grateful. Through our devising process I’ve been able to look at my life through both Edith’s and Elizabeth’s stories, and explore in a fun and inventive way the nature and responsibility of trying to portray someone else’s life. This has been scary and painful but also a great joy, and ultimately very rewarding as an actor/writer and human being.

Simon is a very patient and tolerant man, who has put up with a lot without enough praise or gratitude. He is also very inventive and a great devising partner. Our working practise as collaborators has developed and grown, as we’ve explored and experimented with characters, themes, and ideas through discussion, and improvisation- giving me a wealth of materiel to go away and write with. 

Over the next few months Simon will be focussing on his own work with his theatre company Root Experience who are currently producing The Game (www.rootexperience.co.uk). But he will never escape from the ever-expanding Edith Empire and will always be at the heart of the show. I salute you Simon Magnus.

The adorable and always inspiring Bernadette Russell (www.thewhiterabbit.org.uk) put us on the straight and narrow as our dramaturge, sorting out the structure of the piece, and ironing out all those bits that really didn’t make sense.

Then there are all the amazing people who are doing all those things I can’t do: The beautiful and funny Jane Postlethawaite, social media queen, who has set up and runs our Facebook and Twitter pages, and is working on the crowdfunding campaign; the dashing and demure Phil Wellington (www.ilovenewwork.co.uk); the graphic designer creating the publicity image for Edith; and our hero Tom Slater, film maker, and thoroughly good chap who made our Crowdfunding film. ( http://www.indiegogo.com/projects/edith-elizabeth-and-i/x/3462891. )

There are also the new boys on the block: the dapper and calm (needs to be, with me around) Ralf Higgins-actor/director and movement coach, who has already directed the rehearsed reading and will be directing me over the next few weeks for the preview showings. And the suave and sophisticated Peter Huntley and Martin Ball from 1505 Management (1505management.co.uk) who are organising the previews and inviting important people, and generally being charming- ready to book that tour when we have the go ahead.

And talking of charming- there is of course the charming Mr William Sitwell, who has answered my ridiculous questions, allowed me to try on Edith’s hats, fed us delicious cheesecake and who e-mailed us from Dubai to say he was happy for us to preview the show at his offices.

And very importantly there are all the fabulous friends and family, who have donated to the Crowdfunding campaign, have passed on the details, have mopped up the tears, persuaded me to ‘stay on the bus’ and not give up, and who have been endlessly encouraging and supportive.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you to all.

So this may all seem a bit gushing and sycophantic. Not the intention obviously, it’s only fair that credit is given where credit is due and like Queen Elizabeth 1st at Tilbury, its important to acknowledge and rally the troops to prepare for the challenges ahead. (It’s alright, unlike Edith (allegedly) I don’t think I’m a re-incarnation of Elizabeth 1st- but I do look quite good in an Elizabethan frock!)

Also the last few weeks of this project has consisted of a lot of work writing, organising and e-mailing, on my own in front of a computer which is isolating, and it becomes easy to forget that you’re not alone.  In her professional and personal life, Edith was also aware of isolation, and suffered from constantly feeling under attack from critics and enemies. It was true, she had a lot of friend and supporters, and on her 75th birthday she had so many presents and cards, she had to put a thank you note in ‘The Times.’ But Elizabeth Salter (Edith’s PA), in her book ‘Last Years of a Rebel’ revealed that:

‘Whenever she (Edith) was attacked- and as she said herself, hot water was her native element- she would confide in me sadly, ‘Nobody will defend me. You will see. Nobody ever does.’

There seemed to be a constant doubt in her mind that there were troops gathered to fight her corner. Once again, looking at her life has put mine into perspective, and on any lonely day of doubt, I have to remember and celebrate the fact that the troops may be far away, may be otherwise engaged (or just down the pub!) but are always encouraging, supportive and are always waving the ‘Edith, Elizabeth and I’ banner.

Where Did You Get That Hat?

Our second meeting with William Sitwell was more informal. Sitting in the kitchen of his office (he works in ‘Food’) drinking tea, eating peanut butter and jelly cheesecake that had just come back from a photo shoot, discussing Edith and various eccentricities of her family and upbringing. (More of this, another time…) On mentioning our plans to raise some money to develop our production through Crowd Funding, William jokingly put in his bid for a cut. When we said he’d be lucky, he rightly pointed out that we had eaten a lot of his cake.

We arrived at our third meeting with him at Weston Hall (Northamptonshire), late, but armed with an abundance of cake. Simon and I had both worked until late the night before, had a typical early Friday morning M25 drive, and would’ve been even later if I hadn’t put my foot down at the last minute.

Nevertheless cake was received gratefully, and the ever charming Mr S proceeded to show us around Weston Hall, which is described as ‘a medium sized, old english manor house’. Edith spent a lot of time here with her youngest brother Sacheverell Sitwell, his wife Georgia, and children Francis Sitwell and Reresby Sitwell. She stayed there during the Second World War, ‘knitting for the troops’ and christening herself the ‘Pullover Queen’. As manor houses go (not that I’m familiar with many) this one is lovely, light and very feminine, which was explained when we found out that since 1714 seven of the nine owners were women.

The best floor of all was the attic. (Attics, I am familiar with. Quite a connoisseur, in fact). Wooden beams, creaking stairs, Victorian doll’s houses and rocking horses. And then a whole room devoted to clothes. Simon and I laughed; it looked like our intended set for ‘Edith, Elizabeth, and I’. But the contents of the clothes rails and hat boxes here weren’t hand me downs from a drama school wardrobe, these were the real McCoy and many had belonged to Edith herself. Heavy dresses of velvet and brocade, tall hats, wide brimmed hats, hats that looked like raffia baskets. I recognised them from photos- but they were even more interesting close up. 

William had to make some calls, so he left us there, and as he went down the stairs, he called up:

‘Try things on if you like’. I stood there with my mouth open, but like lightening Simon rummaged through boxes and rails, passed me hats and gowns, and started snapping away, having his own Cecil Beaton moment.

Whilst at Weston, we also went to Edith’s grave- with a bronze plaque by Henry Moore, and on it, engraved words from one of her own poems, ‘ The Wind of Early Spring’

The past and present are as one-

Accordant and discordant, youth and age,

And death and birth. For out of one came all-

From all comes one.

Looking out over the Northamptonshire countryside, I wondered if Edith was watching over us, and what she would think of this project.

Two days later I received (my first ever) speeding fine, for our last minute dash to this appointment. Perhaps she was watching, and with her sharp and twinkly-eyed humour, decided I should pay for the hat trying on session!

Back on Track

It’s been a long time since I’ve written here, but from now on, it will be hard get rid of me. Which is how I feel about Edith Sitwell. For better or worse, she’s part of my life now.

Since my last blog in September 2012, we’ve had many adventures with Edith, much has happened and much has changed. Firstly, I’m no longer a mild mannered receptionist. I left for a short sojourn in London playing a gloomy eyed barbarian in Roman Britain for Clio’s Company, (pictured below) and had a few auditions, (including an exciting one at the National Theatre for an Alan Bennett play) but without success.

I returned to the wonderful world of temping, this time as a faceless filer, with the decision to work hard and keep my head down. But Edith was still with me, and my secret ‘other’ life, away from endless admin, continued.

We received an invitation from, William Sitwell, great nephew of Edith, and members of Peters, Fraser and Dunlop, the agents of the Estate to talk about copyright issues.

The West London office had uber receptionists, who not only offered coffee but also recommended it highly (note to self: pay attention to this in order to get a better class of temp job in the future). Simon and I were suited and booted, but nervous. This could be the end of it all. But on the contrary: there were apologies for the inconvenience caused, discussion of plans and permission given (within reasonable parameters) to work on the material and cake...really good cake. As if this wasn’t enough, the charming Mr Sitwell then said that, obviously, in terms of research, I would need to visit Weston Hall (a Sitwell home) and see Edith’s books, hats and clothes. 

When we left Simon said that he thought I was going to literally jump out of my chair and kiss everyone with excitement! I didn’t because I am a sensible adult (even if I do spend a lot of my life dressed up!), but instead I floated down the road to our next destination… We were off again…‘Edith, Elizabeth and I’ was back on track.