A view from the coast

Photo Jimmy Lee Photography

“Potential should be based on talent not net worth”

I was brought up in a pub, in a small town on the outskirts of Bournemouth, which meant my teenage life consisted of hoovering alcohol-stained carpets, polishing bar tables, emptying ash trays, and bottling up. School was close and massive and comprehensive. I hated it. I was completely lost, out of my depth and struggling. My mum had always brought my brother and I up to have good manners, and because of this, I always spoke ‘well.’ What this manner of speech did, however, was create a persona that was fraudulent, because all the teachers assumed I was clever on the basis I spoke as if I was wandering the grounds of Eton, whereas in fact I was wandering the corridors of the concrete jungle of classrooms known as the ‘Upper’ School. I was placed in the top set of everything on account of me speaking well, not on academic prowess and this meant that in all classes I was firmly at the bottom, always playing catch up and totally out of my depth. This was in 1984, and with only ABC and the Thompson Twins to help me escape the constant feeling of uselessness, I needed something that I was any good at. Oh, there was one other thing. I was unbelievably small for my age. Not like, “oh you’re a bit small,” but, “oh my God, I thought you were like twelve.” (I was 15) This didn’t help at all. If I’m going to be bottom of the set and desperately trying to stay afloat, at least give me height and shoulders and hair under my arm. Looking back, I realise that class sizes didn’t cater to one-to-one guidance and nurturing, but instead I was part of a machine geared towards O’Levels and then out. If you couldn’t work out your equations from your Bunsen burners, then you were doomed to life in the gutter. Sucker.

Then it happened. Quite literally, like it does in all the Hollywood blockbusters. My very own inciting incident. Boom. Landed at my feet like a flash of lightning burning a hole at my feet. Drama. And not just drama…Ernie’s Incredible Hallucinations. I was cast as Ernie. From the title of the play, I’m sure you have already realised that being cast as Ernie meant that I was cast in the lead role. Ernie. I will always love you. Thank you.

I left school with the right grades to attend a college that ran a drama course at A Level, and I couldn’t have been happier. From a corridor that I was terrified of walking down, suddenly I was in a tiny studio under a handful of lights, pretending to be a tree. I was still ridiculously small, and girls only ever wanted to be my friend rather than have to lean down and kiss me seriously, because I was “so cute,” but I was at least learning how to be a tree, and for that I will always be thankful.

Leaving college, with a burning desire to act, was not what Dorset was geared up for in terms of opportunity. There was no other option really than try for drama school. In 1988 when I finally escaped to attend Mountview Theatre School, there were grants handed out by the local authorities to pay your fees, and other financial support. It wasn’t such a gamble. You wouldn’t be leaving with serious debt. In fact, there was a chance that you would be graduating with money to spare. Then of course the reality of working as an actor hit, but that was always going to happen. Of that, there is always that guarantee.

Thirty years have passed since graduation, and I’m fortunate enough to say that I have hung on in this industry, and I am grateful to all the opportunities that have come my way. I share a lot of my experience now with students, all of whom are at varying stages of the learning. One group I spend a lot of time with are degree students who are studying performing arts at the Bournemouth & Poole College. Every week for the past decade I have hopped on the first train out of London on a Monday morning and found myself approximately two and a half hours later, in a beautiful rehearsal room, discussing drama with a group of students who despite not listening to ABC or The Thompson Twins, do still share so many of the feelings I had when I was their age. One fundamental similarity is that they are all from Dorset.

Money has always played a major part in the development of artists, whether that’s in training or opportunities. For so many students that I know, especially the ones based in Dorset, there is very little in the way of opportunity post-graduation. In fact, it’s worse than that. In terms of professional engagement there is no real opportunity as an actor. These young graduates, full of hope and potential are graduating into a landscape that has a beach that is seven miles in length and sandy, and a conference centre. The Sunseeker super yachts are being spewed out into Poole harbour every other minute but performing arts graduates from the Bournemouth & Poole college don’t want a super yacht. They just want an opportunity to develop their skills further and be paid to do the job they’ve worked so hard at in terms of years of training and student finance.

We live in a society that prides itself on equal opportunity. I don’t see it. I don’t see it when it comes to these graduates from working class backgrounds who don’t have relatives with a house in leafy North London with a spare room to use whenever they need for audition purposes and neither do they have the fare to jump on public transport and attend a workshop being led by an industry practitioner whose methodologies appeal to them. In fact, they have enough money to get them to work a full-time job through the night stacking shelves but that’s it. Oh, and they have enough to pay their rent. And some food, and perhaps a Nandos? They have graduated into a profession that is totally inaccessible for so many. And it’s not fair. It simply isn’t fair. Money continues to be a huge barrier for so many. Of course, there are so many other barriers, but we’re starting to see some of those barriers break up. Money, however, is a barrier that is proving to be as rigid and as unbreakable as ever. We are losing so many brilliantly talented young artists on account of them not having the right opportunities. Years ago, the only opportunity was in London. That’s changed. There are now brilliant opportunities in various towns and cities throughout the UK, but still, London stands as the beacon of opportunity for theatre. Fringe theatre still exists and continues to thrive, smaller London powerhouses continue to exceed all expectations and the West End provides the world with a standard of excellence that is second to none. Not in Dorset.

The Ardent8 ensemble was created to support eight recent graduates of Bournemouth & Poole college to provide access to opportunity. Opportunity to attend a workshop led by an industry practitioner that takes place in a rehearsal room in the heart of London. Opportunity to catch a train and attend that workshop without having the price of the ticket the barrier that has on other occasions prevented them from attending. Opportunity to take part in a rehearsal process culminating in a performance of a new piece of work that is written for them and is about them and will have been created through a series of R&D days. Again, this opportunity is fully funded with train fares, accommodation and Equity contracts all covered by Ardent Theatre Company. There is no promise of fame and fortune. That would be lying. This is merely the opportunity that I believe these graduates deserve. An equal opportunity.

Mark Sands and I set up Ardent Theatre Company to give artists who for whatever reason consider themselves as outsiders, a platform on which to explore and share their work. The Ardent8 ensemble was created to give graduates an opportunity to access London without fear of financial constraint. It was created because we felt they deserved a chance to experience something that others simply take for granted. Potential should be based on talent not net worth. When the lightning struck and the central protagonist of this story was handed their inciting incident, it was talent that got him the part of Ernie. Or was it the fact that he was the only 15 year old who could pass for 12…..?!!!