Gary Kemp: ‘We were exorcising our issues through drama’
I first went to Anna’s school in Islington in 1969. I had some money from my paper round and used that to get in – I didn’t even tell my parents. A friend of mine had said it was good fun. The work we did was really improvisational. It was amazing for the kids who basically acted out problems from their daily lives. We were exorcising our issues through the drama but also learning how to be quick on our feet creatively. There were kids who had probably never been praised for anything, and on the cusp of getting in trouble, but she gave us praise. She’d find a kernel of brilliance in anybody and bring it out. No one was ever criticised as inadequate in any of the situations she put us in.
Anna was very disciplined and had mantras like “the two Ps”: professionalism and punctuality. Kids are always late for school and she was trying to retrain them. But she would also discuss Gandhi and people who she saw had goodwill. That was something we always felt in the room. This was an Irish woman with Jewish heritage who had come over to London. There was a sense of displacement about her and that’s how we felt because we were entering the middle-class domain of acting. Working-class kids had never been given that opportunity. Before then, working-class kids either went straight into comedy or didn’t act at all – it was middle-class kids putting on accents instead. Soon, directors began to realise that this was a wellspring of actors who had something different to offer and expressed themselves in their own voice. She never worried about RP.
I was there with Phil Daniels, Pauline Quirke, Linda Robson … In fact Phil and I formed our first band out of the school. I ended up getting the lead in a Children’s Film Foundation movie when I was 11 and with the money I bought my first electric guitar and amp. So ironically she set me on a path outside acting.
When my brother, Martin, and I did The Krays we hadn’t acted for quite a long time. We thought it would be good to brush up our improvisational skills and went back to Anna’s. Again, she and her husband, Charles Verrall, who died just a few weeks ago, gave us a safe place.
Anna wanted us to be able to take chances. Where I came from, kids weren’t allowed to step out of line, to do anything fey or unmanly, but she allowed us all to embrace these different facets that we could find in ourselves. She was my greatest mentor.
Jake Wood: ‘The first lesson she taught was to be a good audience’
Anna was the first person who ever believed in me and that is true for so many of us who went to her theatre. I started when I was 10. My mum had a friend whose son went there – he had been very shy and it had helped him come out of himself. The first time I saw her, she was outside her office with two kids going through some lines for an audition. She had an amazing presence. Going into that theatre, you went into her world.
Casting directors would come down and watch us or hold auditions there. But it was very relaxed, not formal. It was like going into acting as a profession was just a byproduct of what she was doing. That wasn’t her main focus at all, which was self-expression and getting emotions out. If you ever went off and did any filming, when you came back you were discouraged from showing off about that work. You were just part of the group again. That kept everyone grounded. For her it was more important that you were a well-rounded person with good values. The first lesson she taught anyone was to be a good audience. For her that meant being respectful, listening and appreciating what people were doing.
I was there with Sid Owen, Patsy Palmer and Charlie Creed-Miles. It’s absolutely a family – anyone who went through there knows what Anna did for us all. I’m just really grateful that we all crossed paths with her. We’re so lucky to have met her.
Winsome Pinnock: ‘She believed we had a right to enjoy the arts’
In Islington everyone knew about Anna Scher. What a character! I’ve never met anyone quite like her. She was part of that generation committed to developing young people, especially those who are otherwise excluded from some things. Anna believed we had a right to enjoy the arts.
There was a long waiting list for her school. I signed up and didn’t get in until I was about 15. It was really fun – I remember meeting Rikki Beadle-Blair who taught me to dance. Anna taught us about managing and valuing ourselves. I then got an after-school job working in her office when I was doing my A-levels. It was sort of scary – she was a perfectionist and quite demanding. I still do some things “Anna’s way”, like the way I manage my to-do lists.
Anna’s class was the highlight of the week – the thing I most looked forward to. There were the usual theatre games and warm-ups, then a mini-lecture from Anna about her life experiences and her expectations of us. As a young person, when someone treats you like an adult, it’s quite something. She was definitely the teacher, someone you had to listen to, but she gave you the respect of talking to you in an intelligent way and demanding a certain level of work from you.
I was so shy in those days and one of the quietest people in her classes. But I was picking things up all the time and gaining confidence. People talk a lot about the stars she produced – amazing actors like Kathy Burke – but there were also an awful lot of people who went there who just enjoyed getting involved and telling stories. Just experiencing the class in itself, being exposed to other people’s creativity, was incredibly valuable. Up until a few years ago I still did improv classes with her husband, Charles. Just for the heck of it – to be playful. As a grownup there are very few places where you can do that thing that children do.
Trevor Laird: ‘When I’m learning a difficult speech, Anna comes back to me’
It was 1974 and I’d started an apprenticeship as an electrical engineer. I was invited to Anna’s class by a girl I knew and went in and sat down. I thought: I’ve found my place. That’s when she was at Bentham Court, a little hall there that she rented by the council flats. Within months she’d promoted me to the top group and before long I was a professional actor in a TV role. At that time in the early 70s people were looking for “real kids” and we were there. You’d look up at the back and Alan Parker would be visiting. He went there to cast Bugsy Malone – he turned up and half the cast are from Anna Scher’s! Unfortunately I was too tall …
I think about her a lot. Young actors will say to me, “Trevor, you’re always the first one in the rehearsal room, doing your stretches.” That’s one of the things Anna always said to us: never be late. And make sure you learn your lines. So when I’m sitting up late at night, learning a difficult speech for a tricky scene, Anna comes back to me. As well as all the pink and fluffy artistic stuff we used to do in the classes, there were also the rules to learn: be polite to your director and other actors. Keep your ears open and your mouth shut. She could be strict with us but very loving and caring too.
She could always spot if someone wasn’t happy. There were children there who had difficult home lives. There were middle-class people, working-class people, people struggling. But we all had one thing in common: we loved drama. And then we realised, blimey, we could become professional actors. Here I am now, and my whole career – the life I have – is all thanks to Anna Scher. A wonderful woman.
Ricardo P Lloyd: ‘She wanted you to be yourself’
I was fortunate to go to Anna’s classes in my early 20s. She never lost her enthusiasm, passion and commitment to the craft. The thing about Anna is she was very giving of her spirit. Everybody was in awe of her. One of the things she made you do was just speak in front of everyone – it took people out of their comfort zone. It wasn’t straight acting or an improvisation, you had to actually talk about someone or describe being in the room, something like that.
What I took from the experience is that she wanted you to be yourself – to be comfortable being your authentic self, anywhere. Her high-profile students have spoken about this – like Reggie Yates – and when you look at those careers, they have achieved because they are unapologetically themselves. When you have skills like that, they’re life-changing – it’s not just about acting.
Anna would see a person in the room and draw the best out of them. She was intuitive and sharp, warm and compassionate. And she loved what she did. One of the finest teachers this country has ever produced, she embodied true excellence. I am so privileged and honoured to say she helped me on my journey. I will continue to shine because people like her let us know our lights need to be on.
