Acting tough

THEATRE

‘‘I act, I can sing, I teach acting, but primarily I’m a director. That choice keeps me still at 77 humming away. I can’t afford to stop’’.

Theatre was bigger than the movies when Hawthorne went to school in the little country town of Pakipaki near Hastings. He grew up watching Madame Butterfly and many Gilbert and Sullivan productions, nurturing his love of music and performance from a young age.

Seemingly Pakipaki’s a long way from the reach of artistic talent, but that’s where Hawthorne was taught by well-known potter Yvonne Rust and discovered by the mother of a famous opera singer.

‘‘There were six of us arty wankers at school. Yvonne Rust was our art teacher and we formed a kind of nucleus around her, she took us by the shoulders and pushed us where she thought we’d go.

‘‘The New Zealand-born opera singer Oscar Natzka, his mum, for God’s sake I don’t know how it came about, came to our little school to judge our singing competition and I won.’’

The rest, as they say, is history. Hawthorne went on to sing until his voice broke, when he turned his attentions to acting, eventually joining the national professional outfit the New Zealand Players and performing for various outfits in London as well as back home.

Apart from his daughters and ex-wife Elizabeth, the rest of the family did not join him in his passions. His daughters have now switched ‘‘to keep a roof over their heads’’, with Sophia studying to train under fives, and Emmeline looking into New Zealand social structure. ‘‘They’re quite bright,’’ the proud father says.

He’s seen the theatre scene change dramatically over 60 years, with the introduction of smaller and more niche productions.

‘‘I think we have a nice wide spectrum going on. You can go to something every night. But there’s not enough work for actors and it’s hard for them.

‘‘There needs to be more support for the arts from government. We have such an emphasis on sport, you pick up your paper and it’s bloody filled with sport. But I could just be an arty wanker.’’

He’s also made plenty of his own memories. Many marvellous, a few he would sooner rather forget.

Poor Boy, a show based on the songs of Tim Finn written by an Australian author, is among the latter.

‘‘He was a shit writer, it was a poor story. I had a great cast, it was a good production, but we couldn’t lift it above average. I was very disappointed for ATC who had the courage to put the show on.’’

Hawthorne agrees that New Zealand work is important to play, he was fortunate enough to direct our first big success, Foreskin’s Lament by Greg McGee.

Perhaps his favourite moment as director was for the Arthur Miller play A View from the Bridge.

‘‘The audience could feel it and when the actors went downstairs to the dressing rooms they were still stomping and screaming and the actors had to come back out.

‘‘Within a week it was packed, you couldn’t get a ticket for it.’’

But it’s not just his success that’s kept him interested all this time, but the sometimes surprising success of others.

‘‘There are things you’ve seen and you’re wondering, why aren’t people clamouring to see this? That happens to me a lot.’’

Amateur theatre’s not below Hawthorne’s taste, and he will often ‘‘travel out to funny places and often see stunning things’’.

‘‘I went to Orewa to see Les Mis and it was literally better than the London production. We were weeping, but the London production didn’t touch us.

‘‘That happens quite often.’’

runs from February 13 until March 9 at Auckland’s Q Theatre Rangatira space. Visit qtheatre.co.nz/ fallen-angels to book.