Tuning in…
Tuning in…
Castaway
2 appearances
A celebrated actor, writer and TV host, best known for A Bit of Fry and Laurie, his film portrayal of Oscar Wilde, bestselling memoirs and chairing QI.
On the island
Eight records
from The Marriage of Figaro, Act 1
live at The Sands, Las Vegas, with the Count Basie Orchestra, arranged by Quincy Jones
Liebestod (Mild und leise wie er lächelt)
from Tristan und Isolde, Act 3
Jig from Partita No. 1 in B-flat major, BWV 825
I have come to value all of the keyboard works. So I'd like to hear Glenn Gould playing Bach's Partita No. 1, The Jig from It.
Trout Quintet (Piano Quintet in A major, D. 667) – Variations 2 and 3
Thomas Adès (piano) and others
Ah well now a composer I absolutely love is Franz Schubert. One of his best known and most wonderful pieces is the Traut di Forella, which is a song in fact. And I particularly want this version because I have a friend called Thomas Addist who is one of the great British composers and conductors and pianists and he's playing the piano in this version of the Traut Quintette.
String Quartet No. 14 in C-sharp minor, Op. 131 – Presto (5th movement)Favourite
But that's because they are frightening, strange and disturbing, but they're also transcendently beautiful. And this is the 14th quartet, and the presto from it, the fifth movement, and C Sharp minor, and it so bustles with life. Is it angry or is it puzzled? Is it sorrowful? It's all the emotions in one. It lives with you forever, this piece.
I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free
Every time Hugh and I went to the club room to practise sketches, to write, to do things, he would sit at the piano for a while. And one of the pieces he would play was the piano music that used to introduce Film Night. And I later discovered that it was actually a song with wonderful lyrics. And it's most beautifully sung by the great Nina Simone.
Oh sink down from Tristan und Isolde, Act 2
Kirsten Flagstad and Ludwig Suthaus (cond. Wilhelm Furtwängler)
this is to me as transcendent and rapturous as anything that was ever written. It's Tristan the Nissolda.
Also at that Footlights clubroom piano, when Hugh sat there, he didn't just play I Wish I Knew How It Feeled to Be Free. He also played Would You Believe What a Friend We Have in Jesus. But he sang the version for the film O Lucky Man, and it's called Changes, and it's one of my favourite tracks.
I had to have a song that I could, as it were, dedicate to all that would make me think of the great love of my life, my husband Elliot. And this song is a simple, beautiful expression of love.
Barwick Green (Maypole dance from My Native Heath)
I think on my desert island, if I heard this, it would take me all the way home, and it would be all about the beautiful, wonderful country that I love and come from.
In conversation
Presenter asks
5:28What do you remember about your childhood? You were not the most cooperative of children.
I was a terrible child. I was a rat, really. … It's just some devil I always had in me as a child.
Presenter asks
6:24What did your parents think about it all?
Well, obviously in turns um angry, distressed, saddened, embarrassed, and and all the things that I would be if I had a child who who was as dreadful as that. But they were at least an endless well of of sympathy and and of a kind of support.
Presenter asks
11:05You were found out, really. I mean the naughtiness turned to crime. Did that have any effect on you?
I think so. … There is something faintly distasteful about someone using that kind of criminality as a method of improving his life and coming to terms with himself because he's so easily able to afford to step out of it … and so I just simply decided I really want education. I want to learn. I want to do things. So I wanted to go to Cambridge.
The keepsakes
The book
T.S. Eliot
ES Eliot is a favourite poet, and I particularly love his four quartets.
The luxury
it's a whole area of endeavour that I admire enormously is art, and yet I can't paint. And so I'm going to have all the time in the world, so I'd like some canvases and easels and watercolours and oils and acrylics, I think, and all the brushes and turpentine and linseed that go with them, and possibly an instruction manual.
Presenter asks
You announced recently that you were celibate. Is that right?
Yes, I said it wasn't an announcement. … And they rang me up on the off chance that maybe something I didn't do … and I thought a bit and scratched my head, I do almost everything. Oh, well, I don't have sex. Is that an interesting one? And they said … I wrote this article about how repellent, which, let's face it, sex is, in all those horrible, damp, tufted areas of the human body.
Presenter asks
18:08Do you prefer writing or performing? You do both so well.
I sort of prefer the one I'm not doing. That's not as arched as it might sound really. It's that when you're writing you do envy actors the fact that they're bossed about … Then when you're acting you envy writers the freedom.
Presenter asks
24:47What happens when your fans accuse you of spreading yourself too thin? What do you say?
No, I mean one is obviously sorry if people think that, but in the end really the only thing one can do is do what one believes in. … I have no sense of future at all. I know what I'm going to do next week, let alone in two years' time.
Presenter asks
1:51Has all that talking and writing about your life in a revelatory way made you feel better?
Gosh, it's so hard to tell, isn't it? Because I can't have a parallel life in which I haven't spoken to compare it with. But it seems to be that I have this desire to bring out all the source, as you put it. I can't understand it. I think it may have started as a fear of being found out. So I thought I might as well be open about everything to do with myself so that no one could discover it. And if you're in the public eye and you have certain problems or certain issues, I think it's important to try and share and help, if that isn't too holier than thou. I I've always had this. image of myself when I'm about fourteen or fifteen as a rather miserable, lonely figure. And I I think I still write to that character. Um and I want to tell them that it's going to be okay. And maybe it's guilt at my own luck.
Presenter asks
6:22You have many passions including cars, darts, Norwich Football Club and cricket. What's the common theme?
Well, kind of theatre. With cars, it was actually a particular passion in the eighties when I'd written the book, as it's called, of a musical, rewritten it, Me and My Girl. And it it was a hit. It was a hit in the West End, it was a hit on Broadway and around the world, and I suddenly found myself in possession of a rather large amount of cash. And I think having, as you mentioned in your introduction, been to prison for credit card fraud, I suddenly realised that now I was a real legitimate person and could spend my own money, and I overdid it. It was just sort of nuts.
Presenter asks
11:10You've written that you were always in trouble, never stable, never settled or secure. But you had a very loving mother – why do you think that was?
Um in my earlyish teenage I um I was sent to a psychiatrist, and he was a little bit frustrated that my parents weren't in the diplomatic corps or in the army, because uh Everything that I did and all my troubles s seemed to fit in a syndrome of someone who had absent parents or moved a lot and didn't have a settled and secure nest. But I did. But it was in the country, deep, deep in the country, as Sidney Smith, the great Sidney Smith said, simply miles from the nearest Lemmon. And it was a bit of a blow for me because I had I was a sort of male Madame Bovary. I had fantastic dreams of myself being a huge success, both sort of romantically and striking a figure in the world. And you can't do that in the middle of the lanes of Norfolk.
Presenter asks
15:18Why do you so often denigrate your own intellectual capacity?
Well, I there's a part of me that feels a bit like Salieri, you know, in the um Amadeus, the Peter Schaffer play, that that I have just enough talent to recognise real talent in others, but I don't have quite what they have. I'm not a real intellectual. I'm not, you know, I'm not like some of the academic friends I have, and I'm not an artist, and I really respect artists. I can remember when I used to go to the Groucho Club a lot, and in the very early days this figure from Leeds would appear and we'd fall into conversations, and I was absolutely fascinated by his self-confidence, his absolute certainty about everything. And it was Damien Hurst. And I thought he just has some strange gift in his head that allows him to look at one thing and one thing only and decide upon it and think about it hard and not get distracted by what people think. And I care so much about what people think about me. You still do? I think I do. I think less, perhaps, than I used to. But you can't be an artist if you care about what people think. But you can be an entertainer. And I think that's probably what I was put on this earth to be, to entertain, to please, if you like.
Presenter asks
22:40Is there a personal cost to you in putting all these truths about your mental health out there?
I think there is, and I hadn't realized that there was. For a start, I'm obviously not a doctor or a sort of therapist or any kind of professional, but I can become a sort of professional in terms of a go-to person and and I actually find that a bit destructive to myself because it means I'm I'm never free of thinking about my mental health or other people's mental health.
Presenter asks
30:44If you had the choice to live without your bipolar condition, what choice would you make?
Interesting. I wouldn't want anyone to underestimate the seriousness of a condition like that. It can shorten lives, sometimes traumatically and terribly. It can be a terrible effect on families and people around you. But it's so hard to separate it from oneself. W. H. Orden, the poet, perhaps put it best. He said, Don't get rid of my devils, because my angels will go too.
“I was a terrible child. I was a rat, really.”
“The sort of support that one needs then, which is to say that they weren't actually just going to throw me out and they weren't going to beat me.”
“I just simply decided I really want education. I want to learn. I want to do things. So I wanted to go to Cambridge.”
“I'd like to be called Stephen and and for people that's”
“I think if I were to be on a desert island I would have to choose the ring. It's there's just simply everything there and and that would be the there's just more people there than anywhere else.”
“I think I would like a suicide pill. … I think the fact that I couldn't be on my own shows that I was reasonably happy with other people, and I think it's a great compliment to society that I enjoy it so much that to be banned from it would be a kind of death for me.”
“I think memory is the mother of all the arts.”
“I can't do almost anything except use words, use language. And so that's what I've poured all my joy into, really. Language.”
“I think it always should be a little bit transgressive, and that's what comedy should be.”
“It's a kind of tightness uh in the chest and my heart beats uh so that I can feel it all over the chest. And of course uh a sort of darkness of uh it's hard to say exactly, it's a sucking, it's as if something is being sucked from you and the things that are being sucked from you are energy and hope, a sense of a sense of the future.”
“Don't get rid of my devils, because my angels will go too.”