Exclusive Temple Report Number 4 – 17th November, 2002

Desert Island Discs

By Richard E. Grant

For this month’s Temple Report I decided to let one of the REGiment ask Richard an essay question for him to expand upon. Here’s the resulting question from Denise.

“In the Tom Stoppard play ‘The Real Thing’ the writer selects his desert island discs based, not on his musical preferences, but on the image he wants to project as a serious playwright. Thus he abandons “De Do Ron Ron” for “The Skaters Waltz”.

If you were invited to participate in Desert Island Discs which piece of music would you select and why?

Hopefully the question isn’t a straight-jacket but can be approached in different ways. Therefore, like any essay question, it is mainly a springboard for ideas – musical preferences being the obvious, image projections, even plays expressing real-life dilemmas. Perhaps you’ve had an experience where you’ve seen something in a play which is uncomfortably close to home?

“Thanks for the great question. Did not have to give this choice a moment’s thought – my favourite piece of music that I have never tired of listening to since I first heard it as a boy is Mozart’s Fantasia in D minor, K.397. A solo piano piece that manages to be both profoundly melancholic, serene, optimistic, apparently simple and perfectly beautiful in every way. It never fails to move, humble, calm or fill me with the surest sense of what human genius is capable of.

It is a piece of music that I have returned to for both inspiration and comfort throughout my life, both in tragic and happy circumstances. It spans both. Whenever I listen to it , I feel reunited with my late father who died prematurely at the age of 52, with my first child who only lived an hour, with my two most longstanding friends I grew up with in Africa whom have remained steadfast and inspiring since I first met them. The first being Bunny Barnes, my piano teacher, mentor, and the person who encouraged me to pursue my dream of becoming an actor and writer when no-else did. Her passion for music and insistence that I read EVERYTHING and listen to EVERYTHING has left an indelible impression. Her belief that you can never be too curious and to never stop asking questions has become a lifelong mantra. If you didn’t agree with all her musical tastes, she insisted you fight your corner to the ‘nth degree. And just in case she sounds like some kind of dragon, you might like to know that she also taught me how to light a fart and laugh till my lungs ached. Somewhat unusual for someone thirty years older than myself in my experience.

The second person is Tom Bayly, an architect in Swaziland who ran the theatre club when I lived out there. His library of plays, music, knowledge of films and passion for the theatre were unique in that closed, colonial society. Cast me in productions and treated me like an adult, never deriding or patronising my idea of becoming an actor.

Mozart has always had my vote for greatest musical genius ever and the power of this particular short piece is something I am always recharged by. The combination of delicacy and robust rigour is unique in all my listening experience. If ever a single piece of music could be adopted as the theme music for a life, this would be mine.

From the sublime to the ridiculous – my companion piece is a song entitled “OKAY TOOTS” written and released in the early 1930’s. As daft and optimistic and upbeat a song as you could wish for and an instant reminder of my father who obsessively listened to thirties music throughout my childhood. It was used in the Dennis potter TV series PENNIES FROM HEAVEN starring bob Hoskins in the eighties. It also reminds me of the Al Bowley songs Bruce Robinson wrote into his film WITHNAIL AND I with whom I have formed a lifelong friendship. Written during the great depression, it has a sweet optimism and determined buoyancy that always makes me laugh and want to grab someone and dance around the street.

When I finally get my screenplay onto the screen, both these pieces will hopefully feature.Whilst at drama school I played the poet Arthur Rimbaud in Christopher Hampton’s play TOTAL ECLIPSE which had a line that has remained pertinent ever since – “My greatest fear is that other people see me as I see them”.

As much to do with having an highly critical father as much as anything, who was merciless when it came to analyzing other people’s foibles in a way that was both lethally accurate and deadly funny. Bruce Robinson is the closes exponent of this particular “talent” that I have since encountered. Makes for highly charged and very funny “exchanges”. Especially as he loathes Mozart. I tested him out with the Fantasia in D minor, which he was convinced was Beethoven.

Hope this suffices.
Cheers
reg