In the funny and whimsical BBC fly on the wall documentary “There is Nothing Like a Dame”, Joan Plowright, in the company of her friends, Judi Dench, Maggie Smith and Eileen Atkins recalled being accosted by an irascible Robert Morley, with whom she was playing in the West End: “ You’re supposed to be the darling of the intellectual crowd – kindly explain the half empty house”.
A redundant question last Wednesday afternoon when a completely packed congregation gathered in St Paul’s Church in Covent Garden, known to all as The Actors Church, to celebrate the life of one of the world’s finest actresses who died in January at the age of 95. In the same TV programme, she was teased by her friends about having two titles – The Lady Olivier and separately, in her own right, Dame Joan Plowright. In marked contrast to the magnificent memorial for her late husband, Laurence Oliver, Baron Olivier of Brighton, at Westminster Abbey in 1989, which in its appropriate pomp and scale was akin to a Royal Funeral, but with a much better cast, today was a celebration of not just a great and decorated actress but a much loved mother, grandmother and friend.
It was a democratic affair, with only one row set aside for speakers and one for immediate family. The rest of us spread out through the church, family friends sitting in between almost every conceivable theatrical Knight and Dame, together with quite a few “in waiting”. The service was conducted by the incomparable Reverend Simon Griggs, the most theatrical of Theatre Vicars, hand in hand with the Reverend Marie-Elsa Roche Bragg, a close family friend and whose father Melvyn Bragg had produced the definitive television profile of Laurence Olivier some forty years ago.
In keeping with the family celebration, Joan’s children, Richard, Tamsin and Julie-Kate welcomed us and introduced the format for the day, together with some explanation of why we would be singing an unseasonal Christmas Carol later in the service – Joan had always had a passion for Christmas and Carols. Richard, in a very funny speech, set the tone with stories about his parents and their lack of patience for trendy theatrical mores. They had told him of the director Bill Gaskill’s reply to a young actor’s question about his motivation for a scene: “F*** on, F*** about, F*** off” was the reply. Simon Grigg observed drily in his summary before the final blessing, “Four F***s before the first hymn. I think that’s a record, even for this church”.
Richard and his sisters then proudly introduced a few of Joan’s grandchildren who, in perfect harmony, paid tribute to their grandmother with Nora Ephron’s famous “What I’ll miss and won’t miss” list, parts of which had been especially adapted by Wilfred, Tamsin’s son, to include their Grandmother’s particular likes and dislikes. Joan and Nora had bonded after jointly winning the Women in Film Award in 1994 where, later over a glass, they had shared their mutual dislike of, amongst other things, Women in Film Awards.
After a spirited rendition of Lord of All Hopefulness , Chris Larkin, the late Maggie Smith’s son and a friend since childhood, read Bessie Stanley’s “Definition of a Successful Life” and the Reverend Roche Bragg led us in prayer. Then Juliet Stevenson, who shares so many of Joan’s qualities as an actor, followed by Tracey Ullman, the wonderful comedienne, offered their memories of how Joan had touched them individually. Juliet said , as a girl of 16, seeing Joan in “Saturday Sunday Monday” was like “opening a door from a drab suburban house into a beautiful park” and had led her firmly onto her path as a performer. She continued by listing, at breakneck speed, the roles Joan had played on stage – dazzling in its breadth and scope, from great classics to new ground-breaking work. Tracey took over the lectern and interspersed her funny and poignant tribute to “My friend and mother” whom she had met making the film “I Love You to Death”, with some wickedly accurate impressions of Maggie Smith and Joan. She read out a message from their co-star Kevin Kline and only at the end, whilst recounting her last meeting with Joan at her home just before Christmas, did her voice break, reminding us that whilst we should celebrate her with laughter, Joan’s death was a huge personal loss to her family and friends.
Sandwiched between Juliet and Tracey, Nick Hytner recalled how, as Director of the National theatre in 2013, he had persuaded her to revisit her definitive performance as St Joan as part of their 50th Anniversary celebrations . On the stage of the Old Vic, the scene of so many of her early triumphs , with her eyesight beginning to fail, having asked to be placed facing the famously deep Horseshoe auditorium, in one single take she recorded the speech “Yes, they told me you were fools….” to be played later at the celebratory performance on the Olivier stage.
We paused whilst that recording was played again and as her bell like tones filled the huge church we sat quietly and wondered.
In keeping with Joan’s passion for music and musical theatre, Jacqui Dankworth, accompanied by her husband Charlie Wood, sang a beautifully pitched version of “Somewhere” from West Side Story, her jazz phrasing echoing some of her late mother Cleo Laine’s most memorable performances. Linus Roache and Sophie Thompson, continuing the theme of the new generation flying the flag for the previous one, read pieces by George Bernard Shaw and Mary Oliver respectively and The Reverend Roche Bragg delivered John O’Donohue’s Beannacht (Blessing) – “May the nourishment of the earth be yours ..”
We landed at last on the long awaited Carol, “Hark The Herald Angels” , the congregation belting out the first two verses as if it were Christmas and the choir closing with an especially written third verse by the Olivier family which reduced them and us to hysterics.
In the most poignant moment of the day, Vanessa Redgrave was led to the lectern, flanked by Joely Richardson and Juliet Stevenson. Introducing her mother, Joely said Vanessa had told her that “Joan rewrote the landscape for young actresses” and so it proved. Supported by these two shining examples of the golden thread of talent that linked the day, the incandescent leader of her own generation delivered a slow, reflective and perfectly modulated “Our revels now are ended”, pausing for a long moment when she got to the line “we are such stuff as dreams are made on” to look and smile at Joely and Juliet. It was the perfect moment to close a profoundly moving and evocative celebration.
But of course, one thing remained – to celebrate this extraordinary Mother, Grandmother, friend, colleague and of course Actor with a standing ovation. We stood to clap and then almost shyly, the first “bravo” was heard, rising to a roar as we cheered and cheered Joan long beyond our designated minute of applause.
The Reverend Grigg exhorted us to generously support Acting for Others, Joan’s chosen charity, blessed us once more, and as the choir sang us out with a soaring “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” he snatched the photograph of Dame Joan Plowright from its easel in front of the altar and lifting it high over his head, lead our procession down the aisle and into the garden at the front of the church, for yet more champagne.
It’s hard to imagine another gathering of such extraordinary warmth and affection for a celebrated figure – the stories started to spill out and it took almost another hour to persuade the last stragglers to join the family to carry on the at the Ivy Club a few hundred yards away.
Share: