GH Speaks > The Unedited Interview with Christa de Jager for MUSE
     
 


1/12/02 The Unedited Interview with Christa de Jager for MUSE



C: I know you put great importance on the process of encouraging honest and provocative thinking and debate in theatre. Why is it important, in general and in the Canberra theatre context? And what are your views on the Canberra theatre scene with its numerous independent theatre companies, of which HMT is one. Do we have a healthy creative environment?

H: Yes, we have a healthy creative environment. Our theatre companies breed like rabbits. But the myxomatosis of having so many independent performing bunnies is that the groups themselves become insular, myopic and in some cases stupidly competitive. So instead of sharing the artistic experience, some become lost in their own genres, passions, products, politics and navels. And worse, some do not leave their own burrow.

There so many arts groups in Canberra creating artistic products of varying quality from an amateur to professional level. To each and every participant their work is golden. But sincere intentions are not always a reflection of good quality when it comes to the arts. And if amateur groups are going to ask for over $20 a ticket (and professionals over $40), they need to look critically at what they are producing and how they are producing it. Too many, for instance, confuse efficient publicity, peer praise or bums on seats as artistic achievement.

It irks me that companies with large advertising budgets or casts of thousands, performing tried and true box-office hits and classics, tend to attract the bigger audiences. Call it sour grapes on my part if you will, but I think it should be the quality of what is happening on the stage which attracts people in. Not past reputations or commercial safety-nets. And the only way we can ascertain the relative merits and demerits of a show is through the participants and the paying viewers sharing open, honest, reflective and critical appreciation of their theatrical experience in foyers, in web-chatrooms, arguing at bars and in essays and articles, and over a precious little latte in coffee shoppes.

C: You just won the Golden Cat Award for outstanding achievement simultaneously in many categories. Which of the many hats you wear sits the most comfortably, or is the most beloved?

H: Being noticed for creating original works - particularly "Gnat's Nightmare" and "Damage" - and in both cases with fine, unheralded, youthful ensembles both on the stage and behind it. (My definition of "youthful" is broad and encompasses those 'young at heart'.)

C: Australian theatre practitioner, Rex Cramphorn's definition of a director's function is "to establish an atmosphere in which the grace of creativity might fall on any member of the group, giving him or her the
right to lead the work". It reminded me of your communal approach to theatre. Do you agree with this view?

H: I agree with it philosophically. But the school-teacher and neo-fascist in me finds it a little pseudo-democratic and hippie. I would add to the end of that quotation that creative leadership is often explored within the parameters set by the writer, director, producer and sometimes the facilities, cash-flow and perceived audience. If any participating member of a theatre group, inspired by the grace of creativity had a turn to "lead the work", you'd have nothing ready by opening night. That is why as a director I like to provide a skeleton for the actors to pad with flesh, blood and their own personal experience. Once they've done this, we congenially remove the excess flab and I provide the top layer of skin. So I guess, all-up, directing to me is like liposuction surgery. If you've done the right job, your patient looks splendid and trim at the end of it all.

C: In your web article, "The busy, keen and creative beaver: how to get a "break" in theatre", you say the following: "The creatively restless somehow find a way of fitting so." That sounds like a life philosophy. You have certainly done that, the "squeezing in" bit. I'm sure there must have been a cost. Would you revisit or qualify that remark now as you seem so relentlessly busy. Do you have time for "a lot of living" in the personal sense? Away from the classroom, cloakroom and backstage change room?

H: I do not wish to qualify that remark at all. It's true. Anyone with a passion for what they do makes sure they fit it in, even if they're furiously tapping at a computer terminal, putting the final touches to a canvas or a model airplane, juggling a soccerball or revisiting that difficult bit of choreography well into the wee early hours of the morning. But what is the cost beyond baggy eyes and cranky mornings?

I would have to say the long hours spent in classrooms, cloakrooms, sportsfields and change rooms have precluded me from some types of healthy social engagement - like lengthy dinners on the esplanade discussing the state of art, Australian soccer, the merits of the chardonnay we're drinking, George Bush's latest folly or the fluctuations of a tenuous stock-market. And, at a more profound level, the importance of regular family contact.

But for me, theatre and teaching are social engagements at their very core. It's when I try to squeeze in my deeper relationships around teaching and theatre, instead of vice versa, that I know I have and will come to grief. At present I can't help pathologically doing this all so arse-backwards. Hence the baggy eyes and bachelor status.

C: Where will your emphasis/focus be in 2003?

H: After producing Stephen King's "Misery" in April - which the kiddies are already telling me is my 'sell-out' production in both senses of the word - I hope to return to the positive creative vibe left hanging at the close of "Damage". I prefer riskier, spontaneous and group-devised work. I would like HMT to be established in the minds of the artistic and wider community as a company that will tackle interesting, challenging and entertaining work. Albeit to small but loyal audiences of thirteen or so.

C: If you could look back on your life 20 years from now, what would you like to see?

H: The central (and only) character in Berkoff's "Harry's Christmas" laments that he was given a life and did not use it properly. I would like to look back of life in twenty years with dignity and without regret. I want to feel I have used life properly and inspired others to do so too. Nothing pleases me more than hearing a person of any age say they were inspired by something I said or did or kick-started.

C: What are your views on the merits of professional theatre ensemble for Canberra?

H: This is a touchy subject so I will say my bit and duck for cover. It's nice to have the Canberra Brumbies around - they perform well and make you proud of the nation's capitol; so surely theatre, an art form like rugby union, is worthy of its own professional outfit? (I'm convinced a professional theatre group could perform more consistently than the Raiders did this season.)

I do not see the point of importing people wholesale from interstate to come and do plays for us. This already happens in the Canberra Theatre Centre's Subscription Series. We do need a professional group which has some Canberran identity, comprised of artists born, bred and/or based in the region performing works which will inspire, develop, interest and challenge both its members and the audiences it attracts. Sure, like the Brumbies, it should seek out national and international practitioners to bolster and develop its skills and credentials, but while maintaining its spirit of place. Otherwise we may as well just subscribe to Sydney Theatre Company et al.

My fifteen year-old friend Mitch plays rugby union and aspires to become a Brumby one day. From there, perhaps a Wallaby. He has a logical pathway to travel along, through and from Canberra. But what does my fifteen year-old friend Maria, who studies acting and adores Lorca, aspire to? To quote Warhol, "There's only one good thing about a smalltown - you hate it and you want to get out." Surely Canberra has the resources to allow both Mitch to develop his conversions and Maria to develop her Bernarda Alba? And hey, if we can't have a professional tertiary theatre school here then at least allow us a professional company - one which might inspire the Marias (and Mitches) of this world to want to come back and play to the Canberra scene for all the right reasons and realise the awesome place it can be to follow your muse. You should be as equally proud about being a Canberra Brumby as being a Canberra artist for mine.

   
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