Most of us have an indecent curiosity about what other people do in private. Sex and tax, for instance: “What do you do in bed?” and “How much do you earn?” are the questions that lurk under almost all profile journalism and biography. There’s a particular species of prurience that concerns the working habits of actors: what do you do in rehearsals?
I’m not immune to this prurience. Even when I was running the National Theatre I rarely witnessed more than fleeting fragments of other directors’ rehearsals. No one likes to be observed; rehearsals are a private province. I once asked Paul Scofield if he’d mind if a visiting Japanese director could sit in rehearsals. “Thank you for asking,” he said, “but I’m afraid the answer is no. Peter Hall once brought Placido Domingo into rehearsals of Othello without asking me. I never forgave him.”
