Terence Crawford
is an actor, playwright and teacher. He graduated from NIDA in 1984 and
created roles in the premiere of plays by Stephen Sewell, Barry
Dickins, Patrick White and Debra Oswald, among others. He has written
for the stage, radio and television and worked extensively as an acting
teacher, notably for Theatre Nepean, where he was Head of Acting
between 1997 and 2002. His current position is asProgramme Leader of
the BA (Hons) Acting course at LASALLE College of the Artsin Singapore.
After a huge success in 2003, Terence’s play
Love’s Triumph is currently on stage for a second season at the
Darlinghurst Theatre, production closes 21 April 2007.
On a brief visit to Sydney, Terence spoke to us about his work in Australia and Singapore, his book
Trade Secrets and the production of
Love’s Triumph:
How did you get into teaching?
Well I think there were a couple of things happening
at once there: I had a charmed life as an actor. I went through a
series of very ordered steps from the time when I decided I wanted to
be an actor, from the Young People’s Theatre in my hometown of
Newcastle to the adult amateur scene, from there to the Hunter Valley
Theatre Company, from there to NIDA and from NIDA to the State Theatre
Company in South Australia. I think I was one of the last people to be
part of this tradition where the major theatre companies would take
young actors as company members and commit to giving them work for a
year. And in my case that ended up being four years of pretty much
full-time work. All that combined meant that I had about eleven or
twelve years of never being out of a play and it was all I did. I was
very lucky and I started to figure out how to do it.
Sadly, two of those important steps no longer exist.
The HVTC is among the many great little regional companies that have
been lined up and shot, and our state companies no longer pursue the
practice of taking on grads for extended periods. Anyway, there came a
point when my life became like everybody else’s. So that’s the point
when I started writing and I started teaching seriously. That’s the
practical part of it.
The other part of it is I think teaching is a born
thing. I think I was a born teacher. The only real ambition I ever had
in my life was the ambition to be a dad and to be a good dad. I think
teaching and mentoring is connected with that sort of paternal instinct
in a way. Which might sound strange, but I think it is connected. And I
think that the people who encouraged me in teaching recognised that.
What was your intention when you decided to write a book about acting?
Most of our formal instruction about acting doesn’t
come from Australia. Most of the books you would find young actors
reading would probably be American books, and they respond very much to
an American industry which is influenced by the fact that the film and
television world in the United States is such a big part of the concept
of being an actor - whereas here it is a bit of an afterthought.
The other thing about most acting books on the
market is the idea that there is a single way that you can act. I think
most acting books are not honest about what it is actually like to be
an actor. There is the implication in them that you should do this and
if you don’t do this you are not being a very good actor: If you don’t
write a character biography of your character you are really taking
short cuts, when the truth is there are very few good professional
actors out there doing something like that. And that’s just one example
of a whole range. Why is it that good professional actors don’t
actually do those things? That they don’t subscribe to a religion in
acting? They don’t do that because it doesn’t work to do that. You have
to improvise.
You have to go on stage and have fun. You make it
up. But the fun is informed by your experience and informed by rigorous
study and understanding of the mechanics of the scene and the play. And
so my life task as an acting teacher has become to try and deliver this
eclecticism as a coherent model rather than a negation.
I also believe in that old-fashioned thing that as
an acting teacher you should be a good role model. You are teaching
people about personal integrity and I think that there is a link
between personal integrity and acting. I think that great actors – as
is exampled many times in my book – act from the foundation of their
decency.
Do you get a lot of feedback on your book from students or acting teachers?
I do get a lot of feedback from students, and they
are really for whom I wrote it. It has served me – and I think other
teachers, too – to as much as possible demystify certain things about
acting. I love the confusion in it. I love the lack of resolution in
the interviews because when young actors see a really experienced and
competent middle-aged actor on stage they assume that acting is for
that person a complete breeze. And it’s not! It is hard work and even
experienced actors are often humbled by it. I wanted the book to
explore the fact that acting is a hard, slippery craft.
In an interview
with the ABC in 2005 you lamented the reluctance in Australian theatre
to stage Australian plays as opposed to English or American plays. Have
you seen any change since then?
Well, it’s too easy to throw knives at people who
run theatre companies. It’s an incredibly complex and difficult task
and I respect those people doing the best that they can do. But I think
they are a bit gutless sometimes in the face of the challenge. I think
that it is not enough to say ‘We’ll do whatever Australian plays are
good enough to be programmed.’ I think that’s a misreading of their
responsibility. Their responsibility is to make sure there are good
Australian plays ready; the resources need to be going into it.
These other playwrights whose plays they are doing
have been nurtured by their cultures, by their countries; we need to
nurture ours. Australian plays need to be recognised as what history is
going to record. History is not going to record our productions of
Shakespeare. Anything that is not an Australian play might be terribly
worthwhile, might help us to understand how to live our lives, but it
is in some way playing in the Reserve Grade. The First Grade is
Australian theatre. That’s the thing on which we are going to build our
heritage. And at the moment there is an inversion there.
What advice do
you give young people who decide to become actors, particularly in the
light of how difficult it is to maintain an acting career in
Australia
?
I guess the thing is that a well trained actor is
equipped for life in very significant and important ways. They are
equipped for love, they are equipped for parenting, they are equipped
for being good daughters and sons in their parents' old age. Even if
they never get a job in their life, it is a great thing to study.
You’re studying humanity, because acting is the art of life.
So of course you have to negotiate your ego, you
have to negotiate the fact that you are dreaming of a career that is
probably not going to happen. There are painful negotiations along the
way and almost everybody is living their B plan. But the B plan can be
rich and beautiful. Who gets everything that they dream of? And people
who do get everything they dream of often aren’t happy with it –
whereas the life that you kind of carve out for yourself is often more
satisfying.
You have been working in
Singapore
since 2004. How did you get to go there and what exactly are you doing there?
I travelled a couple of years earlier in Europe on a
family holiday and I returned home with the strategy that I tell all
students to have when they leave acting school – they have to have a
hit list of all the things they might do. And in my case I came back
with a long list of teaching and writing ideas to pitch at people and
pursue. One of these ideas was to talk to John Clark about some
teaching work at NIDA. John put me in touch with an old friend of his
in Singapore who runs the Theatre Training and Research Programme. It’s
an extraordinary course for people from all over Asia – many of whom
don’t speak English - who go there to immerse themselves in traditional
Asian theatre forms. And that work is juxtaposed with Stanislavskian or
post-Stanislavskian acting work. So that was my part of the gig, to run
the course and to provide that post-European acting agenda. After
eighteen months of working there I was invited to teach at LASALLE
College of the Arts, which is a degree course. We have an international
cohort of students working entirely in English – so it is serving the
English speaking world – with the aim to become a world-class
international version of a school like NIDA.
Currently about 30% of the students come from
Australia, 30% from Singapore and the remaining 40% from all over the
world. If it is successful, in 20 years time cohorts will be made up
from students from every English-speaking continent.
What is it like teaching students from so many different cultural backgrounds?
Oh, it’s fantastic. You liberate yourself from
national archetypes and expectations. And it is also just wonderful
that people make those friendships that you make at acting schools with
people from all over the world. The repertoire is liberated too, to
bring in things that someone might suggest from their own country. It’s
great.
The interesting thing about Singapore is – and it
sounds bizarre to say it and compare it to a country like Australia –
but however far it is below Australia in terms of civil liberties, in
terms of its tolerance of dissent – the two countries are moving in the
opposite direction. Wherever Singapore is – it is moving up. It is
improving, slowly. And maybe there is a really low ceiling on how far
it will ever get, I don’t know. But it is moving in a liberal
direction. And it would be a brave person who would argue that
Australia is moving in that direction. You know it seems fairly clear
that Australia is moving in the opposite direction. And that is an
interesting tension. Well, from the Aussie perspective, it’s a
terrifying concept I should think.
Your play ‘Love’s Triumph’ is on stage for a second season at the Darlinghurst Theatre. What inspired you to write this play?
I was interested in the idea of classic comedy. I
was interested in the fact that classic comedy has a pattern whereby
the world seems to be a nasty place and throughout the course of the
play we learn that it is a brighter place than it seems, that it is a
more open-hearted place than it seems. So it begins with danger and it
ends in happiness. And then it struck me that most comedies that I had
seen - and indeed the comedies that I had written - were the opposite:
the world might seem to be a nice place at the beginning, but as the
play goes on the world of the play darkens. And that’s the description
of most 20th century comedy. I thought that was interesting:
Somehow through a century of atrocities comedy had been fundamentally
redefined. When did it happen? Where was it lost? In the fields of
France? At Hiroshima? In Cambodia? Comedy went from being a lightening
thing to being a darkening thing. Anyway, because I am essentially a
very happy person – I wanted to write a happy play. I wanted to write a
play in which dangers were averted because it is possible for people’s
hearts to open.
Meanwhile I had always loved verse. I have always
loved nonsense verse, I have always loved rude verse, coarse verse. So
those ideas came together and I ended up writing a whole play in verse.
Have you seen the rehearsals for this season?
No, I haven’t. But I have seen the production
before, and the closing night of the last season was the most
satisfying experience that I ever had as a writer. Everything was so
beautiful and the audience were cheering. I love hearing laughter. I
think that a group of people sitting in a theatre laughing their heads
of together – I find that a profoundly moving thing. Now I also find it
profoundly moving that people go to a theatre and watch a play that
deals unapologetically with the darkest and most dangerous and
difficult things in the world like with my friend Stephen Sewell’s
plays. But this play is about getting together and laughing a lot and I
must say I find that no less profound.
That only leaves me to ask what you are going to do next?
At the moment I am working on an adaptation of
Ibsen’s ‘An Enemy of the People’, not a lot of laughs in that! But a
great play. It is going to be performed in Singapore by my first
graduating class. My writing career went a little like my acting
career: I had breaks and I had high praise too early. My first plays
were produced, and I was once cursed with the hideous description of
being an ‘important new voice’. Now I’ve actually learnt how to write
plays as well as having a bit of talent – which is all critics are
responding to when they overpraise young writers – and my hope is that
the success of
Love’s Triumph will help get my two best unproduced plays to the stage some time in the next few years.
Do you have plans of coming back to
Australia
?
Yes. My current contract keeps me in Singapore for
another couple of years. My children have had a great time of going to
school in France and in Singapore and I think it will be an enriching
experience for them, but you do tend to think that they probably
deserve to make their own minds up about their own country.

Terence’s book
Trade Secrets: Australian actors and their craft
is a fascinating examination of the acting processes of 14 of
Australia’s finest actors. It features interviews with: Paula Arundell,
Bille Brown, Helen Buday, Joel Edgerton, Judi Farr, John Gaden, Paul
Goddard, Robert Grubb, Wendy Hughes, Heather Mitchell, Sean O'Shea,
Pamela Rabe, Geoffrey Rush and Charles 'Bud' Tingwell. Each chapter
gives an overview of the actors’ life, training, inspiration and
reputation followed by an extensive interview with them about their
craft and how they approach it.