Maria Friedman: ‘You’re always mining your own experiences on stage’
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Version 0 of 1. It’s great to question, and it’s perfectly fine not to know. I was born into a family where we were always encouraged to ask questions. The house was full of conversation and debate. In a family you find the space that’s left. My brother Richard was a genius and my sister Sarah was very shy, but very clever. I came along and I loved to make people laugh and make them happy. Sonia [now a famous West End producer] came five years after and we idolised her. My concert career has taught me that you can’t fix everything. You go all over the world with different orchestras and think you’ve covered it all, but it’s a medium that requires collaboration, so someone will always drop the ball. This industry has taught me not to be too controlling, and to delegate – you have to be very fluid. I’m never starstruck. I have respect for people, and I’m in awe of what people can do, but the person doesn’t equal the art. My greatest challenge has been overcoming anxiety. I was a receptionist at a music company and I loved singing. When my ex-boyfriend left me he said: “You’re wasting your life being a secretary. You come home, you go to the shops, you make tea, you watch some TV, and you keep on asking me what my day’s been. When are you ever going to have your day?” You’re always mining your own experiences on stage. But I would never tell anybody what they were. That’s the actor’s secret. There’s nothing worse than people saying “with the greatest respect” or “do you mind if I say…” Both of those come before you’re about to insult me. Stephen Sondheim taught me about detail: there’s not a syllable, or a semiquaver, that isn’t worth caring about. Adrenaline is a drug. It’s a chemical and you have to manage it. The day after opening night, you feel like you’ve been run over and it’s not because you’re tired, it’s because you’ve been poisoned. Geraldine Fitzgerald told me her career was completely ruined by fear – and you’ve got to learn to embrace it. Calling off my Broadway debut when I discovered I had breast cancer was never an option, because I didn’t feel ill. I caught it quickly, had the operation, and it was just like I’d gone to the dentist or something. The big question is: how do you stay in love? It’s what we ask in the play I’m doing at the moment. Friendship, trust, dependability, loyalty, conversation, listening, laughter, time for each other – these are all important. You just hope you don’t go through difficult times at the same time because that’s when you’ve got no one to hold you. My husband and I like to match music and cooking. If we’re cooking Italian, we put on Italian music; if it’s Korean, we’ll find some Korean music… We cooked for two days recently – we were doing a lunch for 22 friends and we started eating at 11am and finished at 8.30pm. There was no singing at my wedding. We got married on a boat in Tobago, just 11 people, and we all dived off on “I do”, wearing snorkels. I got married in a swimming costume. It was bliss. At my age, you have to go for the joy. Not for the other stuff. Problems are going to arrive at your door, so take the moments to celebrate each other and what we do. Maria Friedman directs the Old Vic’s production of High Society, which opens on 14 May (oldvictheatre.com) Follow the Observer Magazine on Twitter @ObsMagazine |