Interview with Jenny Pattrick

I went and visited Jenny at home to talk to her about Hope and her journey as a writer, and discovered we had an uncanny amount in common, including an interesting family connection.

Over tea and delicious muffins she had made especially because they reminded her of the apple donuts my grandmother used to make for her when she was a teenager babysitting my father, I asked her about Hope.

“It’s the first adult play I’ve written.  I’ve written musical plays for children in the past – my husband was a musician and music teacher and taught singing at Toi Whakaari and together we wrote shows for children at the Capital E Children’s theatre.  And I wrote some for him when he was at the Teacher’s College.  Musicals, usually.  But this is the first adult play I’ve written.”

I suggested that a play that isn’t a musical is called a straight play and we agreed that even if that isn’t the actual term, it works to differentiate the two.  I then asked what audiences can expect from Hope.

“I hope they’re entertained.  Provoked.  I love that. I hope it’s going to make them think.  I hope they’re not in any way shocked...because there is a theme of illness and suicide are referenced, but though not in a down kind of way.  I hope it will be quite funny.  It’s a warm and heartwarming family kind of play.  And it’s a little bit political.  Like me.”

She said this with a naughty twinkle in her eye which made me smile and agree that all the best stuff usually is a little bit political.

“It’s set just a little bit in the future and it’s to do with a law that the government of the time has passed because of a budget blowout in the health sector.”

With everything going on with healthcare at the moment, I commented that she must have been clairvoyant when writing it.

“Well, I think I have been, because I wrote this play about four years ago.  I wrote the first draft and I made the family Ukrainian. This was before the Ukraine War had started and before COVID and all those things had come to pass.  I made the family Ukrainian because my husband was ill at the time.  He had motor neuron disease and one of his carers was Ukrainian.  She had such a lovely way of speaking, and she was very emotional. Everything was either an international disaster or a wonderful happening.  I just loved the way she spoke and thought I have to use that accent, that way of talking in the play.  And then of course the Ukrainian War happened so there’ve been quite a few re-writes since then to bring that into the story.”

As a playwright turned novelist myself, I was interested to find out how Jenny found the process of writing a play different to writing a novel.

“I was brought up on plays.  My parents were theatre people and very active in Wellington in Repertory and Thespians and I was too as a young person.  I was a member of Unity Theatre and Nola Miller’s New Theatre, and I acted and directed and all that.  So the language of plays is in my blood, almost. I was surprised at how easily it came to me.  But of course, it’s very different to writing a novel.  In a novel you have so much more spread.  When it’s all dialogue, you can’t describe this or that.  You have to leave it to the actors to do, which is interesting.”

I agreed with this and wondered aloud about how to express the kind of interior life a novel character has on stage without them articulating their thoughts directly, or using voiceover narration, something I think is very lazy.

“In my novels I don’t use interior monologue much at all.  I think I’m a visual person.  Always have been.   I tend to see a scene in my head and then I write it, and I don’t often go into ‘she was thinking’, or ‘oh dear’ and all that.  I make the reader see it, or I try to.  I know there are a lot of other writers who do internal very well.”

The idea of seeing characters and stories you’ve written coming to life before your eyes is something I, personally, would find challenging.  I asked Jenny how the rehearsal process has been for her, and what it has been like to see her work brought to life.

“It’s pretty exciting, I must say.  Lyndee-Jane, she’s the director and she has a wonderful cast.  I went down for the first read-through and I’ve been down a couple of times since when there’ve been some areas they want to tweak and they wanted to consult me on that, which is very nice.  But I’m very impressed and it’s so interesting to see how they can draw out stuff.  Lyndee-Jane tells me I’m a very dense writer, so there’s a lot of material in there.  It’s good to see.  I can imagine it could be terrifying or annoying if they didn’t get it right, but so far - they’re only one week in so they’re still setting it out - they’re going to be the sort of people I imagined.

“There are two actors who are gay and one of  the actors is quite young, and of course I’m very old and there’s been some tweaking of words, particularly for the young guy because he will say he doesn’t think someone would say that word these days, or do this.  That kind of thing is fine.”

We agree that making it realistic is more important than holding onto what was originally on the page.

“But of course I’m still on edge,” Jenny continued.  “It’s more scary than producing a novel, I think.”

I have to agree with her.  You don’t often see people reading your novel, but with a play, you get to sit in a theatre with the audience.

“Exactly.  And what if they don’t laugh?  What if they hate it?  Or what if they don’t even turn up?  What if they don’t like it?  I mean, I think they will…  With a novel you don’t know if somebody throws the book into the rubbish and says what a load of crap.  Mind you, you don’t hear much from people who love it either…  You’re writing sort of in a vacuum.  But here, I feel a bit responsible.  The actors need to make a living out of this play.  So I do hope people will go.”

Which is what all of us in the arts have to do.  Every time you put anything on sale, you kind of cross your fingers and pray.  Even if you’re doing all the right things with your marketing.

“There’s nothing much you can do about earning from a book.  I mean, if it only sells in New Zealand, you couldn’t make a living out of it.”

I agree with her, and we chat briefly about how difficult it is to sell books and about the publishing industry in general.  I express surprise that she’s managed to stay with the same publishing house for so long.

“I suppose because The Denniston Rose, my first novel, was such a huge and surprising success, to everyone.  Random House, who was the publisher thought they were taking a huge risk at the time.  Taking on a New Zealand historical novel.  It just wasn’t done in those days. It was such a big success.  I was very lucky and hit the right button at the right time.  New Zealand readers were ready to read their own stories.  Since then, there’ve been heaps of historical novels published.  At the time, I didn’t even think I was writing an historical novel.  I was just writing a story.  But Random House was pleased and kept me on.”

I ask Jenny what’s next for her, if she’s going to write more plays, or if she’s writing another novel.

“I actually have another novel coming out in April.  I just got the first perusal copy and I’m very excited.  It’s not historical.  It’s contemporary, like the play, a little bit political.  It’s called Sea Change. This time Bateman is publishing.”.

I’m just about to wrap things up when I ask Jenny if there is anything else she’s like to tell us about her work and she reveals that she didn’t actually start writing until she was in her sixties, and for thirty years before that, she was a jeweller – yet another thing we discovered we had in common – and that she still keeps a workbench at home and makes pieces for her family.

She showed me some of her work which is very contemporary and often made using paua and other shells.  She tells me some of her pieces are in the Te Papa collection, so if you’re interested in seeing some, you should pop down and take a look.  It will be worth the trip!

By the time I left, I wasn’t sure if I’d done a good interview, but I certainly felt like I’d made a new friend.

Hope, directed by Lyndee-Jane Rutherford will be at Circa Theatre from Saturday 25 January – Sunday 23 February. Accompanying the play will be original compositions by 2023 Douglas Lilburn Composer in Residence Briar Prastiti, recorded by renowned pianist, Michael Houstoun. The characters will be brought to life by a cast of renowned New Zealand performers: Perry Piercy, Mel Dodge (Prima Facie), Jack Buchanan and Tama Porter.

Set a little in the future, Hope is a family drama that rises hot from within.

Piano teacher Irina, a Ukrainian refugee, is cared for at home by her son Daniel with a dubious mix of natural and illegal remedies. But when Irina’s feisty daughter returns from the war and a famous former pupil turns up on the doorstep, hope and delusion blur together making us question the morality of fighting for your life and your loved ones.

Can human connection, music and laughter give us the hope, which might be the most powerful medicine of all.

Purchase tickets here.

By Kate Larkindale