by In 1978, Julia Pascal became the first woman to direct a performance at the National Theater in London. It caused some press attention. Peter Hall, the artistic director, said in his diary: “Well, directors can lead women, just like birds can sing”.
Hall may have been amused, but it was another three years before a woman directed a full production at her theater (Nancy Meckler’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?), and another 42 years before the National succeeded in appointing a woman to leading the organization itself. Indhu Rubasingham will be the National’s seventh artistic director (following Laurence Olivier, Hall, Richard Eyre, Trevor Nunn, Nicholas Hytner and Rufus Norris) and the first woman, and first person of color, in the role.
The world of theater has responded to her appointment with unexpected glee and an indication that it is a bloody time. Many notable theaters are currently led by women: among them, Michelle Terry at Shakespeare’s Globe, Nancy Medina at Bristol Old Vic and Rachel O’Riordan (reportedly shortlisted for the National job) at the Lyric Hammersmith. But moving Rubasingham from the highly regarded Kiln theater to the big seat at the National is a statement of intent for the entire industry.
Like most big jobs, it’s highly impossible. The artistic director of the National must lead the institution and set the direction of travel for the theater industry as a whole. When advocacy is needed – in response to a pandemic, funding crises or a reduction in school arts provision and university courses – Rubasingham’s is the first voice people want to hear.
The leadership looks different from when the National opened in 1963. Olivier, its first artistic director, was the heir to a long tradition of actors’ managers – leading from the spotlight (spotlight, according to his co-star Maggie Smith, who succeeded bright with him. draw attention to him whenever he was on stage). The young actors in his happy band (Michael Gambon, Derek Jacobi) surprised him, and they really enjoyed it.
Few directors can play Henry V offstage and on, leading their company through charisma alone. Hall and Eyre published diaries from their time in the hot seat, chronicles of physical and emotional crises recorded in the hot ink of despair (Eyre typically notes “constant feelings of panic, uncertainty, inadequacy”). The job requires long days: a planning meeting, a rehearsal, a technical meeting, an unscheduled tantrum, a performance and then slinking home before anyone else can shout at you.
Some theaters are doing away with the role of artistic director, and understandably so – combining the roles of lead artist and budget-ready manager is a huge burden. As Brian Logan noted this week, some theaters delegate the responsibility to a non-artist executive or leadership team, or share the role: Tamara Harvey recently became the first permanent female artistic director at the Royal Shakespeare Company in partnership with Daniel Evans. While Rubasingham is shaping the National’s programs, he will share executive responsibility with Kate Varah.
There is still something urgent about an artistic director setting a course, supporting the voices she believes in. The National is not a manifesto project, but a test of cloud computing and integrity. Around 2,500 seats are to be filled every night at three stages: the Olivier’s opening stage has challenged all the directors since the South Bank building was officially opened in 1976.
The program needs new diamond writing: Rubasingham’s record at the Kiln is strong, although finding a new era-defining play is never predictable. Olivier won gold with Tom Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead in 1967; Norris hit the back of the internet this summer with James Graham’s Dear England. And it’s not just plays: the physical theatre, the spoken word and the circus have demands for a national stage.
New musicals can attract new audiences and expand the art form: the Norris year was won by Standing at the Sky’s Edge, now entering the West End, and The Witches with its black, pastel-toned heart. What about the classics? Rethinking the theatre’s rich back catalog was essential in the early years of the National, attracting Britain’s most powerful actors. Norris is less concerned, reflecting a wider shift in the industry. Everyone does Shakespeare, but British theater has largely turned away from Greek heroes, Jacobite villains and Restoration fops. Will Rubasingham retell that strain of the Nationalist’s mission, giving a new voice to old texts?
The National was once a laggard in showcasing women’s voices: the announcement of the 2019 season without a single female playwright was widely criticized (Sandi Toksvig said the National should be stripped of the title to “play only boys, led by boys, about boys to stage” ). Now, there is a strong female ensemble on the three national stages in women’s plays (The Witches by Lucy Kirkwood after Dahl; The House of Bernarda Alba by Alice Birch after Lorca; Infinite Life by Annie Baker) and the building is full. Norris says he will leave the proud job of increasing representation, and Rubasingham will certainly add diversity to the National’s work.
We also expect the National to be a little more, well, national. Touring shows are becoming more and more expensive – last year, English Touring Theater executive producer Sophie Scull described the costs as “almost unbearable”. But the National extends its reach through NT Live cinema broadcasts (Dear England hits screens in January) and NT at Home offers shows for streaming: next up is Paapa Essiedu in The Effect.
The only certainty about the job is its uncertainty – how could an art director predict Brexit, Covid or a cost of living crisis when our prime ministers haven’t managed it? Rubasingham, like all his predecessors, will predictably attract flak. Eyre reckoned that great success could buy him a year of critical immunity: the reverse is also true. Whatever course Rubasingham will be negotiating when she takes up her post in 2025, it will not be unclear.
