Letter from John Moule, The Warden

Dear ORs,

I am occasionally asked whether I miss teaching in my role as Warden; after all, goes the argument, you must love your subject and you went into a profession to communicate that and inspire the same in others. Now you have to deal with an endless supply of regulations, inspections complaints and government initiatives. Don’t you regret it?

There’s something in that. I certainly do not miss the marking load . . . but there is something magical about helping a boy to understand something for the first time, lighting a spark of interest that can launch a lifelong passion, and engaging in the day-to-day hustle and bustle of a lively classroom. There is the intellectual joy of researching a new discipline and the refreshing challenge of how to make that accessible and exciting for a class. Of course, I miss that.

There is something I miss more, however. Although I had (have) no professional expertise, I love directing plays. And I used to have more time for it: between 2000 and 2005, I directed seven plays in the school I was working in at the time: five full length house plays and two whole school productions. Directing is without doubt the most rewarding and enjoyable thing I have done in my career.

So, I am delighted that this year’s Old Radleian has the theme of theatre and filmmaking. Partly because there is such a richness of achievement – past and present – to celebrate, of course (who can fail to marvel at the constant brilliance that emanates from the Radley Video unit?), partly because it plays to a particular interest of mine. And partly, perhaps, because it made me think about why I value it so much.

Imagination matters. It is wonderful to mix together past productions of a text you have seen, develop your own interpretation, share that with a cast and see them develop in their roles as an ensemble over the rehearsal process. We are told, quite rightly, that creativity is a crucial component of the ideal skill-set: there are other areas of College life to develop it, but none better than the stage.

It is about collaboration. Every cue has to be about more than one person; it will never work unless there is a clear understanding of what others are doing; there has to be an ability to listen. The production moves at the pace of the slowest line learner. A director is like the conductor of the orchestra but with one crucial difference: when it comes to the performance, the conductor is no longer there, the team takes over.

Hard work is crucial. Few who have not been involved in putting on a play have any idea how difficult it is to do well. Learning lines is tough. So are rehearsal schedules. There are always disastrous moments where real resilience is needed. The weeks approaching a performance are full of real pressure; there can be no extended deadlines and there are no places to hide.

I once co-directed a musical with a legendary school director who was demanding, to put it mildly. We survived his public suggestion to the cast two weeks out that we change the plans and ‘just do a concert’ … as the singing was at least ‘ok’. We got to the first dress which started very badly with a curtain malfunction, distracting those on stage and resulting in a few lines being missed. He started slow hand-clapping, helpfully explaining in a stentorian voice that ‘this is what the audience will be doing’. We survived that too. After five great performances to packed and rapturous houses, however, I suspect the cast look back on it as a major highlight of their school career. It was not easy … but it was worth it.

Worth it because of the sense of achievement. When I reflect on what I am proudest of in thirty years of teaching, plays I was involved in come immediately to mind. It is about the cast themselves: seeing them develop as individuals, as a team, and surprising themselves. Connecting with an audience on an emotional level. I once challenged a cast by saying we should not be happy with our production of Noel Coward’s ‘Still Life’ unless there were members of the audience in tears. There were. Those are memorable moments.

Enough of the indulgence. It is not just about marginally pretentious thespian nostalgia. It is about what makes a good education: imagination, collaboration, endeavour and achievement. These are seen in so many aspects of what Radley has always done and continues to do, all four elements are at the heart of what we are about. Drama, indeed the arts in all forms are less and less available to young people and we should beware the society that results. At least we can, and do, stand against the tide. Radley always has, as these pages illustrate well.

One final bit of indulgence. Good education should also be fun. When once directing Lord of the Flies, the boys became more and more feral as the plot developed, their costumes responded: trousers ripped, shirts removed, no socks or shoes. As we finished a rehearsal, slightly late, I was standing next to a boy as he received a phone call from an understandably irate mother sitting in the car park. ‘Don’t worry, Mum’, he said cheerfully. ‘I’m with the Head Master [aka Warden] and I’m just putting my clothes back on’.

I still laugh at that. I hope you enjoy this edition of the Old Radleian and especially its celebration of a theme that, to me and to many, matters very much.

John Moule Warden