“I thanked him for ending my acting career!” – Theater Directors in Their Religion by Tom Stoppard | Tom Stoppard

“Tom said if we want to influence politics, we have to write great plays.”

Natalia Kalyada and Nikolai Khalezin, He participated in the founding of the artistic directors of the Belarusian Free Theater

In 2005, we wrote to Tom Stoppard from inside the tightening grip of what has been described as Europe’s last dictatorship. We were building a theater that was not supposed to exist in Belarus. Tom replied almost immediately: “You can count on my support. But what else can I do for you?” Our request was bold and simple at the same time: we asked him to come to Belarus.

He agreed, only asking for some time to finish the final edit of Rock’n’Roll. When he arrived, he did not give the lessons we requested. Instead listen and ask questions. We took him to meet the entire underground resistance movement: artists, underground theater makers, wives of friends who had been kidnapped and murdered, political prisoners, young activists, journalists, and human rights defenders. While sitting with us in the London bar in Minsk, he said something that captured everything we felt but had yet to find the right words for: “Dictatorship is not a political category, it is a moral category.”

Tom became a constant patron of the Belarusian Free Theater and our mentor. He told us, in a direct way that always cut through the noise, that if we wanted to influence politics, we had to write great plays and put on great productions, because people only listen to those who know what they’re doing.

He proved this point at the Brussels Forum, one of the world’s most prominent political gatherings, where we asked him to speak. For days afterward, the aisles rang with praise for the playwright who recognized the dangers of rising authoritarianism in Europe and beyond more clearly than many politicians. He explained it simply, through the prism of his childhood.

Tom was our guardian angel and dear friend. We will miss his love, his humanity, and the moral clarity and fortitude he taught us to bring to the world. Thank you dear Tom. we love you.

“His face cracked with that devilish smile.”

Carrie Cracknell, Directing Arcadia at the Old Vic in London next year

I can thank Tom for many things, not the least of which was ending my uninspiring acting career early. I played Annie in a student production of The Real Thing, and I was simply not a match for its dazzling dialogue, quick thinking, or emotional depths. It was a moment of complete clarity about my limits, a moment that propelled me into a career as a director. I told him this on one of our recent Zoom calls, and his face broke into that devilish smile that seemed to make the temperature of the room change.

It’s been a great honor to chat with Tom over the past few months. His work ethic remained undimmed – he was involved in every casting decision and willing to discuss his beautiful, complex, multi-layered play. Sometimes he would stop to think, cigarette in hand, and I would feel as if I was staring through the screen at a vivid image, a precious moment in time. Aside from his profound intelligence, Tom seemed to have a rare humility and genuine enthusiasm. When we begin rehearsals for Arcadia next week, his loss will be felt by the entire company.

“He suggested we bring the busy bar scene to the table‘

Nina Raindirector of rock and roll at the Hampstead Theatre, London, in 2023

Tom was a strange mixture of contradictions. He was so charming. He was also harsh and frank in the service of his plays. In Moscow, while watching rehearsals for “The Coast of Utopia,” he turned to me one day and whispered, “I wish that actor would stop smiling like Santa Claus in a Coca-Cola commercial.”

Part of Tom was very literal. Part of him was pleased with the freedoms, departures, and flights of fancy the director took.

In Rock’n’Roll, Tom envisioned a completely realistic house in Cambridge with a conservatory and garden (as seen in Trevor Nunn’s first production in 2006). I saw an empty space, in the round, with a table. I could see that Tom was unsure about this bold move. Fashion designer Anna Reid and I spent a terrifying afternoon in Tom’s Notting Hill apartment. When we talked to him through the sample box, we couldn’t eat the sandwiches he bought us. Finally, Tom seemed convinced.

We then tested several tables (I texted him pictures). Was this too small? Did that seem enough like a garden table? Could this also serve as an office in Prague? I was very proud, towards the end of rehearsals, when Tom called me to suggest we organize a crowded bar scene On the table. Finally, he was more extreme than me. Unfortunately, the table could not bear the weight of the actors.

In Nan’s production, which is excessive in nature, there was a long break in the music. We, on the other hand, would go into a half-light, non-verbal ballet ‘movement’ to the music – as I often explained to Tom, feeling more pretentious each time. I was absolutely dreading watching the process, so I arranged afternoons for our movement sessions. But I will never forget Tom’s decision, without permission, to stay here and watch. The actors were jumping, skipping, skipping, and screaming primitively—preparatory work. I was in agony. Tom watched, completely fascinated, then turned to the wonderful choreographer, Jane Gibson: “I’d love to do that.”