The Stage

Dan Crawford

Published Monday 25 July 2005 at 13:45

For some 45 years it has been my sad duty to write tributes to and celebrations of the lives of so many colleagues with whom I have worked in a lifetime in the theatre. Every once in a while the task is painful as I am looking at the life of a friend whose departure all too early age leaves a void in so many of our lives.

Such is the life is his which I address here, a life which was destined to inspire and energise so many careers in English theatre.

But I have a problem. The average obituary is little more than a litany of dates and achievements and there is rarely space to talk about the things that really matter when we look at the life of a unique man like Dan Crawford. At his funeral last week in a packed St Mary’s Church opposite his beloved King’s Head Theatre, we were moved to tears and laughter by many wonderful tributes from some of the good and the great of our profession.

So let me break with tradition and say what must be said if there is to be any reason for this modest tribute to such a theatrical giant. With her permission I leave it to his beloved wife Stephanie to add the moving tribute she wrote to be read at his funeral to my emotional appeal for the survival of that unique theatre in Islington in which Dan launched so many brilliant careers.

On another occasion I will crave the indulgence of the editor to write a celebration of one of the greatest unsung heroes of our profession, for the loss of whom the London Arts Board has a lot to answer for. For more than a quarter of a century Dan burned candles at both ends to fight for the survival of the most unique theatre in London. But when that pittance of a grant - £70,000 - was taken away from him by a board under the jurisdiction of his own MP, then secretary of state for culture, I suggest the first nail was driven into the coffin of a genius who was cruelly taken from us at the age of 62. This American Anglophile gave his every working moment to serving the theatre loved by everyone who was privileged to know and work with him and yet he never received the gratitude of recognition which he so richly deserved. On one side of the sterling coin - a reference to Dan’s unique £sd till - there are knights of the theatre whose honours are sometimes hard to understand, while men like Dan Crawford don’t even warrant a modest MBE.

His peers said it all last Thursday. Benedict Nightingale, doyen of our critics, called him “the nicest host and the sweetest man”. Anita Dobson said “he was the root on a tree that grew beautiful blossoms that gave forth wonderful fruit”. Steven Berkoff pointed out that “he gave life to that which was passed over by others”. Memories of Crawford prompted Maureen Lipman to say: “To think of Dan is to somehow conjure up an amalgam of Lilian Baylis, Donald Wolfit, Laurence Olivier and Max Bialystock.”

Amongst his myriad attributes he had two huge accomplishments - his theatrical achievements at the Kings Head and his ability to empower people, to insist that they do their best. There are hundreds of actors, writers and directors who will proudly admit that they would not be who they were or where they were without Dan’s belief in them and the opportunities he gave and the risks he took for people.

Let his beloved Stephanie give us the life of Daniel Frank Crawford as she wrote for his service:

“On a glittering shoestring Dan mounted new plays, classic revivals and musicals, winning many awards with more than 50 transfers to the West End, Broadway and National tours.

“He championed new and forgotten work by Athol Fugard, Tom Stoppard, Stewart Parker, Steven Berkoff, Vivian Ellis, Victoria Wood, Terence Rattigan, Brian Friel, Noel Coward and others. He nurtured the careers of Hugh Grant, Richard E Grant, John Hurt, Kenneth Branagh, Maureen Lipman, Joanna Lumley, Clive Owen, Celia Imrie, Rupert Graves and Alan Rickman among many others.

“Dan died as he lived, with enormous dignity and courage. He lived as he loved, with both sides of passion and enduring loyalty. He approached his work at his beloved King’s Head with total commitment, integrity, enthusiasm and devotion. He believed in theatre, the beauty of language, the telling of great stories and the players who made those stories come alive. His favourite plays and musicals uplifted, illustrating and illuminating the tragedy, comedy and sheer poetry of human existence. He loved the pub, which helped support the theatre, for its revelry, its levelling of all social differences and especially for the people it brought to the theatre who might not otherwise have ventured. He believed in tradition but treasured innovation. He maintained his high standards against all odds, continually triumphing over adversity, gaining impossible strength from small victories as he struggled, working with Olympian tenacity to keep the theatre going, a true knight in the purest sense, chivalrous and kind, worthy of the sword of Camelot.

“Dan waved his magic wand and turned a small stage into a garden of delight that inspired, moved and nurtured us. An eccentric individual, unique and single-minded, he was our own dear Dan Quixote, chasing windmills, weaving silk purses out of sow’s ears, always enchanting and mischievous. His touch of genius touched us all as we followed the fellow who followed his dream and gained the strength to follow ours. He loved all aspects of theatre, the New York Mets, his Jowett Javelin car, his darling daughter and the extended family of actors, playwrights and directors he discovered or who played in King’s Head Productions, his own family and his theatrical colleagues.”

The end piece of this tribute must be an exhortation to all of us in the world of theatre to work to ensure that the extraordinary legacy he has left us, the King’s Head Theatre, must not be allowed to perish at the hands of the Philistine funding bodies who would dictate our destinies.

Charles Vance