For a man who is officially retired, Tony Cassar Darien has a lot on his plate and even more on his mind. He has a lot to say about everything; from the way buildings keep sprouting up all over the island to the factors mitigating against creativity in the performing arts. Interview by Maria Giuliana Fenech

Tony Cassar Darien’s first foray into acting was a defence against bullying. By making children and teachers alike laugh he could get his own way more easily and also become more popular. “I loved imitating people. My classmates would constantly ask me to mimic teachers; wanting to please my audience, I willingly imitated teachers and the other figures in authority,” he says.

He continues, “I used to keep the class in fits. I adore humour and playing the fool. I believe that humour is actually necessary to get on with the serious things in life.” These same ‘figures in authority’ must have also thought the young Tony hilarious and turned a blind eye to his antics. They realised that he would be an asset to school plays and in fact his first proper acting part was in a Brother Simon play.

“Brother Simon can be described as the British equivalent of Fra Mudest. I remember my nannu had a long white raincoat, which I borrowed for the occasion. Due to its length, I could only walk in a particular way, which made my performance even more comical and gave the character I portrayed a more human dimension.

“After this performance and others of its ilk, I was handpicked by Fr Henry Austin Born of Salib tal-Fidda fame to be a child actor. Fr Born, a Dominican priest was in charge of the Deporres Theatre. His demeanour could be termed ‘unpriestly’ or, in today’s lingo, cool – he rode a motorbike and smoked, leaving the cigarette dangling from his mouth like a good cowboy. Fr Born was an amazing multi-tasker. I remember him banging at his Remington typewriter. This typewriter was special in that it could be fed two sheets of A4 paper simultaneously. Fr Born would think on two different wavelengths and this enabled him to type two episodes of his radio-serials concurrently, one on each paper. When he finished a line on sheet A, he would merely continue typing on sheet B, on the same line, but about different characters, plots and topics!

“I must also add that these were the 50s and 60s, the golden years of the Rediffusion. Recently, Tony Micallef interviewed me on his programme “Zghazagh tas-Sittinijiet”. He told me that his earlier guests, among others, included Lawrence Gonzi, Alfred Sant and the Archbishop. Apparently, they all referred to the amazing Rediffusion years, since broadcasting as practised in the 60s and 70s was a positive influence on one’s formation of character. The radio-plays and serials were the blockbusters of yesteryear. The streets would be empty whenever the next instalment of these plays was broadcast.

“The listeners could not help but exercise their powers of imagination whilst creating their very own mental pictures. The performers were articulate and knew the business. Most of the DOI professionals had done regular training stints at the BBC’s Bush House. In those days, any mediocrity or silly trivia was not tolerated. Scripts were produced and vetted before they went on air. Presenters came with a pedigree of long hours of preparation. The final outcome resulted in productions which had class and a degree of sophistication.

“The original theatre-people who played an important role in my early formative years were the unforgettable Gino Muscat Azzopardi, Mary C. Camilleri, Karmenu Gruppetta, Twanny Scalpello, Victor Apap, Johnny Navarro, Charles Clews, Armando Urso, Victor and Marcelle Castillo, Pawlu Bugeja, Lena and Frank Ganado, Joe Zammit Cordina and Terry Bencini. All genuine Thespians with great personal charismas who used to ignite audiences with their magnificent stage presence.

“There was also Guzeppina Attard Montalto. She married a Maltese and became very much involved in theatrical and radio drama. This very quaint lady, whenever she wrote or translated a sad piece would actually be moved to tears each time the play goes into rehearsal, let alone during the full performances, where she would literally cry her eyes out. Like all others of that golden age, she was very passionate about her craft; and passion as I came to realise soon after, is infectious.

“Unfortunately, the radju-dramm is an extinct medium. This very fertile cradle of writing has been destroyed. Pity!

“As I grew older I naturally got involved in the student movement. These were the 60s and the “revolution” which blew from Europe, and the States, was felt in the Mediterranean air. The tremors of political and social change symbolised by Guevara, Kennedy, John Lennon and the Paris May 68 riots together with the writings, films, music and art of all those angry young men were making themselves felt locally. For the first time the Maltese youth was saying. “We exist! We have a voice! Listen to us!” Together with Jean Agius (whose later London exploits have been the subject of various writings culminating in a BBC documentary) and who proved himself to be a natural youth leader; and other people, like Carmelino Bonnici, Frederick Gingell, Arthur Clare, Noel Scerri, the late Anton Azzopardi and Vincent Pandolfino the seed was laid for the foundation of the first mixed youth clubs in Malta.

“With hindsight, it is now simpler to comprehend the commotion that these new clubs had ignited. All the top brass; from the religious priests at the various schools to the Police Commissioner and the Archbishop actively sought to refrain the ICE club (ie Institute of Cultural Exchanges) from developing its agenda. We were brazenly followed and our activities constantly monitored. We got used to being summoned to the Curia, and the Police Headquarters in Floriana, to clarify what we had planned for the present; and to be warned about what nasty things could happen to us in the future.

“We never minded it much. We would experiment with different ways in which to recruit new members from the schools and the colleges. We would infiltrate places of work, sometimes disguised as workers in boilersuits, in order to disseminate literature and encourage more young people to join us. We organised events like the first football match in Malta comprising 22 female players. We used to hold regular debates when it was anathema for the right to meet the left and vice versa; outings and hikes to cultural sites; and of course, organise the famous dance-evenings which were instrumental in launching the first ever boy-bands, like The Graduates, The Addicts, The Cool Kats and others mostly modelled on Cliff Richard’s Shadows.

“Favourite haunts were the now defunct Regina Hotel in Tower Road Sliema, the top of the Alhambra Cinema (now a boutique), the old University Theatre in Valletta and others. The Icers also played football and took part in the other team activities all the time encouraging female participation. (The “mixed” aspect was pushed at all levels). We took part in most of the official functions including the annual Christ the King procession … you see, we strived hard to be accepted and more importantly, respected, in our own right.

I would now say that our time at the Upper Barrakka Gardens, the providential venue from where all action emanated, sported an innocent joie de vivre which characterised everything we did. Don’t get me wrong. We operated in a difficult political climate, characterised by the extremities in organisations openly loathing and bent on humiliating one another. When the major institutions lost their head we Icers floated along very nicely; creating a balance between religion, politics, fun and study. Unlike almost all the rest we stood for moderation and shunned extremism. I am not so sure as to what kind of seed the more established and respected institutions of the time were sowing in the psyche of Maltese youth!

“Throughout all this I was obviously still involved in theatre. Rather weirdly for the time, I had a foot in the two rather distinctive camps; the mainly touring, comedy theatre and in the more serious creative stuff. Unfortunately a chasm existed between the two, the traces of which may be discerned even today. The former regarded the latter as snobbish, and in turn, was itself perceived as a mere exercise in bluff. In this country we have always excelled in the art of fragmentation.”

As for most of the other things in life, Mr Cassar Darien, who is clearly concerned at the amount of fragmentation which seems to plague the local arts’ scene, he offers his own reading of the situation. As always it’s both original and intriguing. “The dreaded disease has its roots in colonialism and is aided and abetted by a sense of insecurity. Wherever the British colonised, there developed these divisionary factors. It followed the Machiavellian dictum of better two pairs of eyes constantly sizing each other rather than having them both staring at the ruling power. Thus the creation of inner strife helped rule the waves.

“However the British also gave us some positive gains, among them a good drama school set-up. Albert Agius Ferrante, the much-maligned first Chairman of the Manoel Theatre, who almost single-handedly laid the foundations for our main artistic institution, envisaged a Music School run by the Austrians, a Ballet School administered by the Russians and a Drama School which featured the British tradition. With the British Council as mentor, the latter evolved into MTADA, where I was the principal for 10 years, from 1982 to 1992. “The majority of our older, and better, brand of actors is the product of MTADA. Besides the technical aspects of the profession, its students were immersed in the motivational factors of drama which influences the ethics of the performer vis-a-vis his or her audiences. Nowadays the nobility of the profession seems to be somewhat changing. It seems that nowadays one threads the boards mostly in order to become popular. Or to make a quick buck. Sadly one hears of many instances where a promising actress opts for the role of a valette in a tv variety, or some stupid quiz show, rather than go for a meaty character part in a play which taxes her theatrical acumen. This of course, demonstrates a crooked kind of motivation …

“I am often asked to comment about the lack of new writing in the vernacular in our theatre. Only the very few persist in creating drama for a Maltese audience on Malta’s stages. This is very much contrary to what happens in native theatres all over the world. Native dramas reflect the country’s maturity in questioning its own identity. In the case of Maltese theatre it should serve to illustrate who we are, what we stand for and where we want to go with our vision of the future. There is nothing wrong with theatre as entertainment. At MTADA, besides the all embracing technical curriculum, which was rather vast, the motivational aspect of the craft was given prime priority.

What about your involvement with the National Drama Company? “The NDC was an offshoot of MTADA. Theatrical innovation and the more experimental ideas are, or rather should be, the province of the young emerging actor. An intelligent creative being if properly nurtured in his drama classes should be bursting at the seams with invigorating means of communicating his God given instrument. Any shooting young star would certainly disagree with being given minor roles on stage alongside the established veterans. This was what used to happen, with the circa four or so major drama companies, prevailing at the time. The National Drama Company was all about the Maltese Young Talent knowing the native stories, and bringing them up for discussion before a mature public. All of the NDC’s presentations created a major furore, steeped in, oftentimes, ugly controversies. “Id-Disklu” was blown to smithereens from the pulpits, “1919” became the usual political football that is played whenever some big chief decides to stifle discussion and “Il-Borg Pisani” was served with a legal injunction that had the poor young cast and crew shivering in the wings on the opening night.

Part II will be published

on Monday 24 March