Marie Benoît concludes the second and last part of a tribute to the actress Antoinette Soler who left us on 18 May this year

carmen azzopardi

Dear Antoinette,

It feels so strange to be addressing you in this way when I could easily pick up the phone. Unfortunately, I cannot do that. You are gone but the memories of you are vivid and everlasting. I remember when we first started the Atturi Theatre Group. We worked so hard, we breathed and lived theatre. First at the Phoenicia Hotel and subsequently at the De Porres Art Centre and the Manoel Theatre. We did what was needed even to sweeping floors. The days we spent in rehearsing and in performing. Your ‘Nina’ in Ethel Farrugia’s beautiful production of the Seagull, your triumph in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolfe? your perfect timing and sense of comedy in various West End farces, brilliantly directed by your dear husband Victor, your poise and stage experience in religious plays as in Lino Farrugia’s powerful production of Mistress of Novices and Agnes of God. You remember how we held hands and said a prayer before going on stage as an act of assurance and support for each other. You would say: ‘Feel my heart, I feel it in my throat’. You were so nervous, your performances were faultless. You need not have worried. I remember how ill you were in Moscow when we went to perform at the Gogol theatre but like a true trooper you went on stage and performed as if nothing was wrong with you. I remember the day when we were at a loss to cast the lead in There’s a girl in my soup. We were having dinner at my house. You suddenly disappeared and when you came back you were dressed and made up to look like the character we were looking for. You looked the part, that of a nineteen year old. And you convinced us all. What glorious days we had - golden days in the theatre! Subsequently you joined the charismatic movement. Whenever we spoke on the phone and especially after the death of my beloved husband Paul, your words were of great spiritual solace. Rest in peace Twan. You deserve the reward that I am sure the good Lord has prepared for you.

JON ROSSER

I actually only appeared on stage twice with Antoinette Soler and on both occasions it was during the 1970s in plays produced at the Phoenicia Playhouse by the Atturi Theatre Group.

The first occasion was in a drop-your-knickers comedy/farce called Move Over Mrs Markham. The piece was directed by Antoinette’s husband Victor Soler and featured not just Antoinette, but also the great Charles Thake and Joe Izzo. My role was more or less that of a stooge to Charles, but it was all great fun and I remember the play ran for six performances, all of which were sold out.

I was rather more involved the second time I worked opposite Antoinette. She played the demanding role of Maggie in Tennessee Williams’ play Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. I played Brick. Antoinette’s character had to practically carry the whole of the first act, which is virtually a monologue for Maggie, while I hobbled around with a crutch and got progressively more smashed. She was terrific and gave – in my opinion – one of her finest performances.

But I think even this was eclipsed by her astonishing portrayal in yet another Atturi production, Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf. It was directed by Mario Azzopardi and also featured a coruscating performance by Colin Easton. Anyone fortunate enough to see this production will however have etched into their memory Antoinette Soler’s Martha. She really scaled the heights as the loud-mouthed frustrated lush. It was wonderful stuff.

I am well aware that Antoinette Soler had created an enviable reputation as an outstanding actress long before Atturi came on the scene. But her work for the nearest thing Malta has ever seen to a repertory company in Atturi was both consistent and versatile. Let’s face it, any actress who can go from playing a dizzy housewife in a West End farce to the extremes of emotion required by a Chekovian heroine in both The Seagull and Uncle Vanya, has got to be a bit special… and Antoinette was most definitely that.

Prof Joe friggieri and his wife Teresa

In the golden age of theatre in Malta, Antoinette Soler formed part of a small group of actors who turned amateur drama into a fine art. She was one of the few professionals who could shift from comedy to drama with great ease.

She was blessed with an infectious smile and great photogenic looks which, in a different time and place, could easily have led to a career in the cinema.

The landmark productions we best remember her in, because we were in some way involved, include Electra, The Eagle with Two Heads, Hedda Gabler, The Seagull, The Duchess of Malfi and A Credit to the Country.

She also played leading roles in a number of plays by Francis Ebejer, whose success as a playwright and director depended to a large extent on the fact that he could rely on artists like Antoinette Soler, Karmen Azzopardi, Godwin Scerri, Paul Xuereb, Karmenu Gruppetta and a few others for inspiration and collaboration.

Antoinette shared her passion for the theatre with her husband Victor. Acting is a strenuous and time-consuming exercise that can put a strain on any relationship. In the case of these two remarkable people the stage was instrumental in strengthening their bond.

An extract from a piece sent by her husband Victor Soler.

Her natural talent in interpreting highly dramatic parts earned her the Malta Drama League Best Actress Award early in her acting career when she played the female lead in Kien Hati? Under the direction of Watty Cachia. This was followed by equally demanding roles in J.B. Priestly’s An Inspector Calls and the lead in the thriller, The Late Edwina Black.

With Nosi Ghirlando, one of her favourite directors, she always singled out her performances in Wuthering Heights when she played both Catherine Earnshaw and her daughter Catherine Linton. She also had her first experience of a comey role wheh she played Nina in Hekk Sejra by Gino Muscat Azzopardi.

During James Falkland’s active participation in the local theatre scene Antoinette featured in a number of plays directed by him and perhaps the ones closest to her heart were the roles of the Queen in Cocteau’s The Eagle Has Two Heads and that of Electra in Euripides tragic drama of the same name…

She will be sorely missed not just by theatre goers but perhaps much more so by her fellow actors and actresses who over the years shared with her the thrills, excitement, joys and sometimes the disappointments which are all part of theatre life.