Will Waspe
those optimistic young trendies who applied for the job of artistic director at Guildford's Yvonne Arnaud Theatre, in succession to Laurier Lister who retires next June, can relax. So can the theatregoers of the stockbroker belt, who feared that some outrageous, rampageous stripling from the 'fringe' might be aPpointed to turn the cosy policy of their local playhouse upside-down. All should have known better. The job has, in fact, landed in the safe hands of Val May, forty-sevenear-old director of the Bristol Old le, and the only surprise may be that May – who has won national distinction in his fourteen years at Bristol – shbuld have sought the change. The reason, I gather, is that he feels he has spent too long too far away from London (prior to Bristol, e worked successively at Dundee, Salisbury, Ipswich and Nottingham), ,and also that the Yvonne Arnaud board agreed to split the theatre's administration away from the artisprc directorship, so that May will be ee to direct not only as many plays as he chooses at Guildford, but any that are offered him in the near-athand West End as well.
Time for maturity
Pursuant to the above, Waspe nevertheless wonders whether the Val May appointment may be the start of a trend away from the 'boy v!ronder' theorists and back to artistic directors of proven experience. The forthcoming appointment at the R.Gyal Court – which has another disaster on its hands in the Tokyo iLd Brothers show, The'City – is the significant one to watch for. And a
much favoured contender here is Nottingham's respected Struart Burge.
Family matter
I am sad to learn that Punch's editor, William Davis, has given the boot to that magazine's drama reviewer, Jeremy Kingston, one of the ablest practitioners in the game. The move will doubtless distress readers more than it will Kingston, who had a nice little financial success recently with his comedy, Signs of the Times. And to whom has Davis handed the Punch job? None other than that hard trier, Sheridan Morley, whose doting father Robert is one of Davis's most valued contributors not only to Punch but to the British Airways giveaway mag, High Life, which he also edits. Only the irredeemably cynical will see any connection between these two circumstances.
Sabotage
It was brave of the Royal Shakespeare Theatre's Helen Mirren to write to the Guardian last week to level in public the charge that most players make in private – to wit, that the big subsidised theatre companies' expenditure (of taxpayers' money) on such trappings as sets and costumes is "excessive, unnecessary and destructive to the art of the theatre" and that "the need for economy demanded at this moment could be the saving of our theatre." I hope the lady's point and credibility will be appreciated in the right quarters (i.e. the Arts Council), despite the graceless unsubtlety of the way the Guardian handled her letter. Though editorially inclined to regard any economies demanded of the arts as indefensible philistinism, the paper acknowledged the newsvalue of Miss Mirren's letter by putting it at the top of the page. It was illustrated, however, not by any of the elaborate costumes of which she complained, but by a picture of her wearing next to nothing.
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