‘Holy shit!” This was the instant response of one venerable theatre critic when Pitlochry Festival theatre sent round embargoed copies of the plan for Alan Cumming’s inaugural season. The man himself sits back in the cavernous workshop behind the theatre building, dapper in a grey plaid suit. “I loved that,” he says gleefully.
When the Hollywood star was announced as the new artistic director of Scotland’s only major rural theatre last September, there was widespread shock – not least that Cumming answered an open recruitment call – followed by feverish speculation over which A-list pals he might charm away from London or New York to perform in Highland Perthshire.
But with the public unwrapping of his first season, it is apparent that Cumming has done so much more than call in favours – it’s a programme of imagination and creative rigour, putting big names in unexpected collaborations alongside undersung Scottish talent. “There’s always this binary of bringing in more well-known people – creatives, not just actors – but also to celebrate and nurture our indigenous talents.”
He arranges himself, at 60, with a dancer’s poise though his puckish side-eye suggests there’s plenty of mischief still to be made. The season showcases Cumming himself a fair bit, too. He writes, directs or performs in four shows, closing the year as Henry Higgins in a revival of My Fair Lady. The season opens with another musical: the Scottish premiere of Once, featuring the original Broadway creative team led by director John Tiffany. Then there is the world premiere of a new work by lauded dramatist Martin Sherman, starring Simon Russell Beale and directed by Cumming. Elsewhere, award-winning Scottish actor Sally Reid pivots to directing, as National Theatre of Scotland stalwarts Adura Onashile and Sandy Grierson star in her staging of another world premiere: Douglas Maxwell’s new comedy Inexperience.
“There’s got to be a reason why,” says Cumming, who has lost none of his precise Scots inflection despite spending many of his recent years in New York, where he lives with his husband, illustrator Grant Shaffer. “I’m not just going to put on nice plays.” In addition: “Every single one of these shows has a personal connection to me.”
The north star of Cumming’s creative constellation might well be the actor Maureen Beattie, who visited his Angus primary school when he was eight years old “and changed my life”. Beattie is to play Lear in a bold reinterpretation of Shakespeare’s mad king, directed by Finn den Hertog, lately acclaimed for staging David Ireland’s The Fifth Step. “We’ve seen Lear so often with boring old men,” says Cumming, “and when I spoke to Maureen, I realised how fascinating and how different it would be as a story about a woman and her daughters.”
The season also has star-spangled weekend festivals, the literary Winter Words and Out in the Hills, a celebration of all things LGBTQ+ and bringing together Armistead Maupin, Graham Norton and Evelyn Glennie in January. For Cumming, a committed advocate for LGBTQ+ rights who has followed the “huge backlash” against transgender people in recent years in the US and the UK, the motivation for programming a queer-specific event is simple enough: “I felt like it would be really good for trans and queer people to be mentioned in our news without a negative connotation – and we should celebrate, remind people of what a great contribution LGBTQ+ people have made to our lives.”
It’s not, of course, unheard of for creatives to travel for work, but he acknowledges that Pitlochry, a thriving tourist destination known as the Gateway to the Highlands, is off the beaten theatrical track: “Big time! It’s a commitment.”
The setting itself is breathtaking. Not for nothing is Perthshire nicknamed Big Tree Country. On the day I visit, the gardens set back from the banks of the River Tummel are painted in vivid autumn colours and hazy with mist rolling down from Ben Vrackie, the quartz-spiked mountain that looms to the north. On a direct train line from Glasgow and Edinburgh, it’s a couple of hours’ winding through pine-fringed hills.
“You come away from all the normal glare to this beautiful place, with these great facilities and you make work,” says Cumming. “You show it here and then you take it somewhere else – I want the shows to go to other parts of the world after their runs here. People really get that model.”
He adds: “People will come for just over two months. You’re able to be more focused here, it’s beautiful and it’s an adventure – like camp.” His eyebrows bounce above thick black spectacle frames.
There’s a sense that he relishes having something of an ambassadorial role for the country he says “could be better at self-confidence”. Cumming is a longtime supporter of Scottish independence and played his part in the Yes campaign of 2014. “I do love my country and I really understand the gifts it’s given me. So sometimes I come back and think, ‘Come on, everybody! Things are great here.’”
He is also an advocate of manifestation, using the power of thought to shape reality. He tells a lovely – and entirely true – story about the theatre’s founder, John Stewart, who hid a slip of paper in a wayside post by the river on a wartime visit, pledging: “When peace is declared I shall return to this spot to give thanks to God and to establish my festival.” On VE Day, he recovered his note and the theatre was established 75 years ago this year. “When I started,” says Cumming, “I set out what my aims were, so I feel like that is something I share with him.”
Whatever your take on mysticism and prophesy fulfilment, this is an approach that aligns with the surroundings – Highland Perthshire is one of the most arcane parts of Scotland, steeped in folklore and ancient history. On my trip back to Glasgow, I take a detour to the nearby Dunfallandy Stone, a rare Pictish carved stone depicting a human head clasped by a fish-tailed monster.
But what’s also supremely evident is Cumming’s clear-eyed and straightforward determination to make this work. His tenure comes at a point of soaring confidence for Scottish theatre, with new leadership at Glasgow’s Tron and Edinburgh’s Lyceum, alongside the much-anticipated refurbishment of the Citizens in Glasgow. Cumming has attended a couple of dinners with other artistic directors, benefiting from the wealth of experience round the table. “I’m totally new to the business and the machinations behind the scenes of running a charity. And I can ask, ‘Is this normal?’”
Cynics might question how much a man with a plethora of strings to his bow, who still divides his time between New York and another base near Inverness, can be involved in the daily grind of running an arts venue. “It’s been challenging,” Cumming admits. “I’ve worked mostly remotely this year.” And he praises the team around him: “It’s much more work than I thought it was going to be, in the minutiae and also dealing with so many personalities.”
This works in both directions, he suggests. “When I arrived, I didn’t know them, but they thought they knew me. When you’re famous, you’ve got to …” He mimes unpicking something. “I imagine they thought I’d be like Godzilla, going through Pitlochry and stomping on things.”
Pitlochry is a space familiar with innovation – previous director Elizabeth Newman built up its artistic credibility with new writing, inventive staging and collaboration with other producing houses. “I’ve been conscious of not being completely jarring and changing everything,” he says, nodding to the strong musical component of his season, “a big part of what people have of late associated with Pitlochry”.
But the famous repertory system – the only one left in Scotland – has gone. “It wasn’t financially viable,” says Cumming, “and a prerequisite of me taking this job was that we had to be able to ask people to come for a shorter time.” Cumming certainly has a close eye on the theatre’s fiscal health, establishing partnerships with nearby hotels and even choosing to forgo his own salary. He can probably afford it. As well as his work as an actor on stage and screen, Cumming presents the US version of The Traitors and owns a bar, Club Cumming, in New York City. He is hoping the cash saved can go towards fixing the amphitheatre’s stage.
Since his appointment, Cumming has repeatedly spoken about wanting the theatre building to be a venue for the local community as well as paying audiences. “I want it to become known as this international theatre destination for audiences and for artists, and the community’s got to come along with that because they’re part of it.”
Earlier today, he dropped in on the weekly sketching club, which congregates in the theatre’s open-plan cafe area. “I said, ‘Oh, you’ve grown. There’s more of you since I was last here!’ It makes the building feel alive, especially at times when we don’t have shows on. I actually think the experience you have in this building is as important as what we put on our stages.”
And earlier this year, at the close of the Winter Words festival, he DJ-ed at a huge party, inviting the whole town to attend. “And they came!” he says delightedly. “It was a magical night.”
