Reflections on a Simple Past | 12. All the World's a Stage

The school play gave me the confidence that I could contribute just as valuably behind the scenes, as those in the limelight. You might say that I’ve been doing this ever since.

Mar 09, 2025

Welcome to Rediscover · Reconnect · Re-Emerge. If you find the fleeting changes of modern life wearisome, maybe even overwhelming, join me on a journey, a path well-trodden, as I share heartfelt and often nostalgic reflections on living slowly, simply, and in tune with the seasons.

In this series, I look back at some of the people, places and things which have so richly influenced and inspired my love of all things simple.

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‘…And all the men and women merely players’

This must surely be one of Shakespeare’s most quoted lines, the opening to a monologue spoken by the melancholy Jaques in Act II of As You Like It, sometimes referred to as the ‘seven ages of man’.

For me, the world was never really a stage. I was quite happy to sink into the background, to loiter usefully in the wings, the person relied upon to resurrect a performance from the next impending technical disaster…and there were many.

In many respects, I arrived at secondary just at the end of what I might term the ‘school play era’. During my years at an all-boys grammar school, an establishment which relied far too heavily on the prestige of its past, with little thought of the future, I saw the gradual shift from the school play to the school show or musical. Inevitably, the school musical had far more glitz and glamour that a mere play, but in some respects, in that transition, we somehow lost the simplicity and, dare I say, the drama, of the stage and its players.

When I started at secondary school in 1995, the subject of Drama was a relatively new subject on the timetable. It had gradually been pulled aside from English to become one of the Arts subjects alongside Art and Music. I had no interest in acting, that was sapped out of me long before I arrived there, but I was always interested in drama, in performance, and in the theatre. For many of us, these were things which, until we arrived at secondary school, were not necessarily on our radars. It had never occurred to me that the performances I’d seen relied not only on those on-stage, but on those behind the scenes.

In our Year 8 Drama lessons, we read a play, Terry’s Tramp. It concerned Terry, a socially-aware teenager who wished to help the disadvantaged. He involved his fellow paperboys in his mission to help a Tramp who resides in a local park. Of course, he encounters more challenges than he might have bargained for, including the representatives of the D.S.S., Mrs. Prendergast, and her sidekick, Reginald Wibble. Such was the enthusiasm for this play, it was agreed that we could mount our own production running over two nights to which parents and friends could be invited. It proved to be my first experience of ‘working backstage’. It was a relatively straightforward play with little in the way of scenery or props - a park bench, a tree, a newspaper stall, and a large sign. My role was to take this sign out of the side door of the stage as required, and bring it back in. To me, this felt far more important than acting in the performance!

Tom Stoppard’s *Rough Crossing*; May 2001.

After the play was over, my Drama teacher wrote me a card which read:

‘Your assistance has been invaluable during the preparation period, and performance for ‘Terry’s Tramp’. I was impressed by your calm and confident approach in all you did and wish to thank you wholeheartedly for the part you played in our success. When I next produce a play, you will be the first person I shall ask for help.’

These words stick with me to this day, and happily, 30 years on, I’m still in touch with that very same teacher. Somehow, I’d finally found something I could do where I was not only valued, but also relied upon. I felt important, never in a bigheaded way, but that somehow, I could contribute just as valuably behind the scenes, as those in the limelight. You might say that I’ve been doing this ever since.

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Perhaps my greatest experience of the school play was Arnold Ridley’s The Ghost Train. Best known for playing bumbling Private Godfrey in Dad’s Army, Ridley was a successful playwright in his own right. The school’s advertisement read:

‘One gloomy evening, Fal Vale Station is visited by an unwelcome group of travellers who must stay their overnight. They are disturbed by the tale of a ghost train and of hauntings by ghoulish figures. When a frightened young lady appears, even worse is to be expected. What will become of them all?’

The two performances raised £700, though inevitably, didn’t cover the cost of the production. Nevertheless, we were lucky to have a very well-stocked under-stage area filled to the gunnels with costumes, props and scenery. ‘Flats’ were hoisted up for each production, and reconfigured and redecorated as necessary. It was, as far as we could manage, a professional production.

Instilled once again in my role backstage, all went smoothly apart from the smoke machine. I confess, that my experiences with this machine have all been negative! I often wonder whether the hassle of getting the thing to work at the appropriate moment, is worth the effect it creates. On this occasion, the machine was supposed to be providing the odd puff of smoke through the fireplace. Sadly, the ‘on’ button got stuck down during the interval, so when the curtains opened for Act Two, the stage was completely full of smoke. The actors, professional as ever, improvised their way through with lines such as “it’s a little smoky in here!” Despite this, The Ghost Train would go down in history as one of the most successful plays during my seven years at secondary school.

The Ghost Train was really one of the last whole-school plays to be produced. Musicals and shows gradually crept in, with all the glitz which goes with them. They are, of course, great fun, but somehow, the simplicity of a wooden set, some clever lighting effects, and excellent costumes, were all that were needed to support a competent cast of actors. Perhaps there was less to hide behind, and inevitably, a greater reliance on acting ability.

These days, you’re hard pushed to find a play (not a musical, nor an adaptation of a film) staged anywhere outside of London. Schools, of course, are no different. Tastes and priorities have changed. How lucky we were to have had those experiences at school, and for me personally, the ability to work effectively behind the scenes, in my quiet fashion of course, has stayed with me.

All the world’s a stage, but we’re not all the central players, and that’s OK.

Reflections on a Simple Past | 12. All the World's a Stage

The school play gave me the confidence that I could contribute just as valuably behind the scenes, as those in the limelight. You might say that I’ve been doing this ever since.

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