Dianne Pilkington enjoyed a long and acclaimed West End run as Glinda in Wicked and starred as Amalia in last year’s Chichester Festival revival of She Loves Me, with a stint in The 39 Steps (her first play) in between. Now, the English actress is back on the West End in yet another American title, Terrence McNally’s Master Class, which has crossed the Atlantic to the Vaudeville Theatre with Tyne Daly once again on board as the formidable Maria Callas. Pilkington plays Sophie De Palma, the most naive of the three students to submit to Callas’ fierce inspection. So it seemed appropriate that a post-rehearsal chat with Broadway.com ranged from the delightful Pilkington’s own experience of such classes to whether she could ever be a diva.
You’re in a play called Master Class. Do you feel like you’re getting one in real life from your Tony- and Emmy-winning co-star Tyne Daly.
It’s very much that on so many levels! Working with Tyne Daly is extraordinary—she’s so immensely committed to everything that she does. So from that point of view I’m learning, and also from the opera point of view. It’s so lovely when you do a job and you get to absorb new things.
Did you see Patti LuPone in this play on the West End in 1997?
No, I didn’t. I was about 19 or 20 and in college at the time [at Guildford School of Acting]. One of the girls in my class was a huge fan of Patti’s, and I remember the students who went to see it raving about it. But my research really started once I got the audition for this. Obviously I did as much as research as I could; I am so in love with the play.
How did Master Class come your way?
It was literally one of those auditions that turned up, slightly from left field, but I am so glad it did. I saw the aria that they wanted me to learn—“Ah! non credea mirarti” from La Sonnambula by Bellini—and I thought, “I’m not sure if I can learn this.” In fact, I actually did have a little bit of classical training at Guildford. I had a teacher at the time who was a classical opera singer and taught me certain basics that began to come back to me a little bit; it wasn’t her fault if she had this pupil who desperately wanted to sing “I Dreamed a Dream” [from Les Miserables]!
It’s different vocal terrain, certainly, from Cats and Wicked and other musicals you’ve done.
It’s not the sort of singing I’m used to at all! But I walk along singing bits and pieces from it, and I’m also going for opera coaching; otherwise, I’m going to look very, very silly alongside two fantastic opera singers [Garrett Sorenson and Naomi O’Connell] playing the other two students. The other day I was coming up in the lift at Covent Garden and was practicing my breathing, and people thought I was hyperventilating [laughs].
Not that Maria Callas in the play lets you do much of your aria uninterrupted!
I think I manage to get out four bars of music before my character is being taught about listening and diction and how to take direction from the composer; I’m being taught much more than just singing. These are universal lessons for anyone who works on stage, and they’re all about getting to the truth and feeling and connecting. It’s stuff that we deal with all the time but probably don’t put into the right words.
Given your stage experience, is it interesting to play as character as naive as Sophie?
She’s one of those characters that can be misconstrued as dumb, but the way we have approached Sophie is that she’s very enthusiastic—the kind of girl that puts on a huge front of “Hey, I’m great” and with a big wide smile: It’s a shell that she has contrived to protect herself, and that Callas sees through immediately. But at the same time, I think Sophie comes out of it with a lot more power and understanding. She realizes that it’s OK to not be the same as everyone else and to have these deep feelings as opposed to covering it all up with a mask.
Have you ever attended a master class yourself?
Yes, I was part of one given by [Judy Garland’s daughter] Lorna Luft, who, if I remember correctly, made me wash a car while I was singing [laughs]. And I went to watch one with Barbara Cook, which was great. From what I’ve heard, I don’t think Callas was actually as harsh as she can be in the play; some of what’s said on stage are her actual quotes and some of it is very different.
How does your time in Wicked seem now in retrospect?
I will always love Wicked; it will always be a big part of my life, and it’s as simple as that. I’m going to go back and watch it again when I get the time because I know Gina [Beck], who has taken over as Glinda. I actually have a connection to Wicked on this show. The actor who plays [the pianist] Manny has a wife who’s in Wicked in America and he occasionally throws in a few opening bars in rehearsal.
So much of Master Class is about the attitude that goes with being a performer.
Yes, one of my lines to Callas is, “I’m hoping to get some [temperament] from you, frankly.” Apparently this is something that is talked about in opera. And from what I have gathered, Callas approached opera in a way that I would want to approach any kind of singing. She wanted to use everything to get to the emotion and the truth rather than just making a beautiful sound, and I think that is so important.
Is the play therefore helping you to unleash your inner diva?
No, not at all! [Laughs.] I think if I was going to develop that, I should have done it 16 years ago—and no one took me seriously 16 years ago!