Energy and fanaticism
If , one has ever assisted at any of the Aldwych productions of the World Theatre Season, in even the remotest social capacity, one is very swiftly convinced that only a lunatic could have had the maniac energy to conceive them, organise them, and hoist them to triumph. To fly all over the world, to cajole totalitarian regimes, to cope with the temperaments of a galaxy of stars in a babel of languages, with a minimum of financial assistance, to transport them, entertain them, soothe and inspire them — is it any wonder that Peter, who in the middle of all this had to surmount a major and excruciatingly painful surgical operation, is a very tired man? But the light of fanaticism still gleams in his eyes. Where will it lead him? Perhaps we may guess. He has already torn a rift in the Iron Curtain through the miracle of persuading the Moscow Art Theatre to come to London. He Will work to raise that curtain completely, bringing more and more such companies to us, letting in a flood of light and colour to the West. We may agree that this is a dramatic conception ... and not only for Shaftesbury Avenue. A theatre — the theatre of the world. A heavy, sullen curtain, hiding one half of humanity from the other. An audience waiti.ng. And in the wings, a frail indomitable Tigure, praying to be given strength that the show may, go on.
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