In ancient times, performers would pack their harps or flutes and hit the road, taking the stories of the Iliad or the Odyssey to the people in big centres and small.
For Michael Hurst, his latest tour is doing exactly that, only without the harp or flute.
"For me it connects me to the old way of doing things. It’s following that ancient craft of real theatre and I really enjoy doing it," Hurst said.
The story he is telling is just as old, though. The show is a modern take on the first century novel by Apuleius Metamorphoses, otherwise known as The Golden Ass , the only Latin novel to survive in its entirety.
"I’m always interested in Greeks and Romans. I’ve done lots of tragedies and comedies. One thing with humour is it seems to stretch over time."
He first pitched the idea of the show well over a year ago. But it was more than 20 years ago he first read the novel.
"I found it quite moving. It’s basically a story of redemption in the end, although to get there he has to go through many trials, being turned into a donkey and seeing what people are really like."
So it seemed a natural tale to tell in the uncertain times of the pandemic, and the opportunity presented itself to tour after his commitments co-starring in The Woman in Black, a Gothic horror at The Pump House Theatre in Auckland, and last year Brecht’s The Life of Galileo with the Auckland Theatre Company. Not to mention numerous television and film projects including the directing episodes of My Life is Murder, Mystic and roles in films Mysterious Ways and Northspur, the latter of which is to be released later this year.
The only break he has had was towards the end of last year for surgery to deal with the effects of old injuries accumulated over the years of stunts and stage fights.
Hurst, an Arts Laureate whose career spans 40 years in theatre, film and television as both an actor and director, is an enthusiastic proponent of performing on the stage.
"Use it or lose it, it’s the truth. I love the theatre, it’s my go-to. I just want to get better at it and keep getting better at it."
Performing a one-man show comes naturally to Hurst, who prior to Covid toured The Daylight Atheist, a Tom Scott play, and No Holds Bard.
The challenges are similar to any theatre production — most importantly the "imbibing" of it "to get it inside your body, the words, the actions, the feeling".
"You need to constantly keep that fresh. That is what theatre technique is, everyone knows it is not real. But the audience and actors all make an agreement that it is real. The audience will go there, if you go there. That is the central challenge of all theatre.
"Audiences want to be taken out of themselves; because of that it is quite a spiritual experience, as it is transformative. This is funny and there is some nice pathos in it. It is what we need in these times, which are almost as crazy as the Roman Empire was."
So most recently Hurst has been spending a lot of time doing the "imbibing". The novel itself is around 400 pages long, so Hurst has distilled that down to its essence and modernising it for the play.
"The version I first read was one by [William] Adlington, which was in Elizabethan English, so I used that. Then there is my own free brain. So it’s a case of freely adapting the original."
For Hurst it is like seeing Shakespeare performed in modern dress, as that is what they did in Shakespeare’s time. "They wore what the audience was wearing. It didn’t seem ‘Shakespearean’ to them. That’s what Shakespeare was — the same with some of the Greeks. Some of the issues that come up are the same. Making them sound modern is quite straightforward, I think."
So it is with this play, which Hurst says is a plea for empathy. "Surely that is what we all need in a world that has gone mad."
Hurst’s love of the classics can be traced back to his childhood.
"My natural bent, rather than guns and World War 2, I was into the Romans and Vikings and all of that."
Going into the theatre and doing his first Shakespeare plays, he realised so much could be traced back to the early Romans and Greeks.
"There is a whole tradition of Roman mythology and then you realise it is based on Greek mythology and then you [read] Greek plays and suddenly this world, this rich, visceral world started to come to the fore, because the only reason statues and ancient buildings are white is because they have been bleached by the age of them.
"In fact it was a vivid world of colours — they painted in bright colours. It is loud and messy, full of lots of noise and smells. We forget how vital it was and you can see all that in the work."
For Hurst it is exciting to discover "stuff" from that world. Back in 2015 he adapted Aristophanes’ Lysistrata, directing the comedy featuring Amanda Billing as Lysistrata and his wife Jennifer Te Atamira Ward-Lealand.
The original ages of the shows do not worry audiences, he says.
"Audiences just want to be shown something. Theatre by its very nature is very risky. An actor can forget their lines or a bomb can drop on the building — anything can happen. I think people like that anything can happen. And there is the communion thing."
He performed The Daylight Atheist just after the first lockdown and found people to be enthusiastic about coming out.
"The interval was almost as long as one of the acts — people just wanted to chat and be with each other. We will always come back to that, to be in a group and sharing something."
An Arts on Tour road show, The Golden Ass sees Hurst perform in 25 small towns across New Zealand in July, something that does not faze him at all.
"It’s what I’ve done all my life. I started back in the mid-’70s when theatres were companies and we used to do a show at night. During the day you’d rehearse the next one and there’d be a week turnabout. In a year you’d do six to eight shows. That was just a habit, so that has been my practice. That’s what we’re trained for; that is what we do."
He loves performing in small communities and has become adaptable to different venues every night, from Oamaru’s Opera House to the tiny theatre in Picton.
"One of the rules I’ve given myself, after my first one where I realised the different sorts of venues I’d be going to, the best way to do this is to go ‘Great, I can work in here’. It means you’re adaptable — it’s basic, simple and really crafty."
Having passed the age of 60, Hurst admits to having to accept the body is getting older, but what all actors need the most is their voice.
"Without a voice you can’t project anything. Also you need to be able to remember your lines. I love that challenge of absorbing things. I’m not daunted. It doesn’t faze me that I’ve got a book of lines to learn."
To learn his lines, Hurst likes to get up early and go in to rehearsals before everyone else and spend a couple of hours pacing the floor learning his lines.
"I yell them, say them, whisper them, sing them. It’s about getting the words into your body. My learning is more of a physical thing than a mental thing. When it’s in your body, you can trust and get on with the acting."
He remembers being a young actor at the Court Theatre in Christchurch and standing in the wings about to go on reading his lines, when an older actor, the late Fred Betts, offered him some succinct advice.
"He looked at me, leaned over and said ‘Oh my god, if you don’t know them now you never will’. He was right. Best advice I’ve ever been given."
Not stressing is the advice Hurst himself gives, as being on stage is stressful enough — although he still feels nerves before a show. He admits he is a pacer and needs the last 10 minutes before going on to himself to focus.
"Opening night is quite stressful — you have to conquer. It’s like going on a bungy jump — you have to take that leap. Or diving into a pool — once you’re off the diving board, it’s inevitable."
After a show, it can take about an hour for the adrenaline to wear off and he finds a shower or bath helps. In his younger days he might have hit the pubs afterwards, but he takes things a bit easier these days.
"You have to preserve yourself."
When he finishes touring he has some television directing booked for later this year and is directing a play in January, Waiting for Waiting for Godot, about two understudies.
"Next year who knows. My life is always six months ahead — that’s how its always been. You get used to it."
To see:
The Golden Ass, Cromwell Coronation Hall, Bannockburn July 9; Arrowtown Athenaeum Hall July 10; Oamaru Opera House, July 12
