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Phyllida (Lloyd)’s ideas for The Threepenny Opera included Kurt Weill’s music being performed by actor-musicians, such as were mainly deployed at the time in rock- and pop-music shows like Bob Carlton’s wonderful Return to the Forbidden Planet, and in the burgeoning genre of quasi-biographical nostalgia-fests such as Buddy: The Buddy Holly Story. It took a certain amount of persuading to get the Kurt Weill Foundation (KWF) to agree to Phyllida’s approach. During rehearsals, my main task as music supervisor was preparing a daily report to the KWF, detailing every change we had made or were thinking of making. Some of those changes were far-reaching — for example, moving The Ballad of Mack the Knife from the opening of the show to the end of the first half — while others were small, but still significant from the Foundation’s point of view, such as changing the key of a song to accommodate the vocal range of one of our actors. Eventually, KWF grew weary of my painstakingly-detailed daily requests and let us do as we dared.

Dealings with the Brecht estate were also problematic. Not with regard to the spoken word: the seal of approval had already been given to Robert David Macdonald’s translation, which stemmed from the Glasgow Citizens Theatre production of 1972. The problems arose over the new lyrics which Phyllida had asked the Donmar to commission from Jeremy Sams. The Brecht estate’s wariness was inexplicable as far as the production team was concerned:  Jeremy was already a highly-respected translator of plays and libretti,  as well as a much-admired composer for plays at the RSC and the National. It was clear from day one that his work on The Threepenny Opera was brilliant. As the weeks of rehearsal went past with no negativity forthcoming from the Brecht estate, we assumed they agreed with our assessment of Jeremy’s contributions, but on the day of our first preview, permission to use his lyrics was suddenly withheld. The production team waited anxiously while Phyllida and the Donmar management dealt with the crisis. Lights did go up on the show that evening, but it had been touch and go.

My role had always been envisaged as supervisory. The show needed an actor-musician as an onstage musical director, and, as I’d given up a life on stage some three years before, it couldn’t be me. To be our onstage MD, we recruited Kate Edgar, whom I knew from Hull University, where we’d been fellow music and drama students.  By this time, Kate had become very experienced at organising the complexities of rehearsing actor-musician shows. through her fine work at the Bubble Theatre Co with Bob Carlton, out of which the roaring success of Forbidden Planet had come. With Kate on board, we were in a strong position to assemble a first-rate group of actor-musicians. They were led by the amazing Jeremy Harrison, who went on to found the first ever actor-musician training course when he joined the staff at Rose Bruford College. He’s written a fine book on the subject.

The rest of the casting proved equally inspired. Sharon Small was a fiery Polly Peachum, Tom Mannion and Beverley Klein were her conniving parents, Tara Hugo played Jenny Diver (and was nominated for an Olivier award), and Tom Hollander played wonderfully against type as Macheath. Phyllida and designer Vicki Mortimer created a London of the near-future in a UK reigned over by King William III, in which, as in Brecht’s original, crime could pay so well that it offered upward mobility.  The show, a huge hit, was nominated for an Olivier (Best Revival). A cast album was recorded. The whole experience was quite something.

at the cast album recording session, Abbey Road Studios

Tom Hollander as Macheath

Easy Life (Ballade)