‘I think I should make some earrings out of the Logies’

Save articles for later

Add articles to your saved list and come back to them any time.

I have been in the same room as Alison Whyte many times, but until today we’ve never met.

Here’s some quick maths – in the past year I’ve seen the actress perform in Melbourne Theatre Company’s Jacky, Malthouse’s Monsters and, in the week before we have lunch I manage to see her in Death of a Salesman twice. All up that’s about nine hours – oh, and I also rewatched Frontline during that time – so it isn’t difficult to recognise her when she arrives at the City Wine Shop, exactly on time.

Alison Whyte is currently starring as Linda Loman in Death of a Salesman. Credit: Simon Schluter

It’s also important to note that these are just the plays I’ve seen – she’s been in more. “It’s been a busy year this year,” she says with a laugh.

Her laugh is one I’ll hear a lot over the next hour and a half – there’s genuine joy when recalling a good memory, there’s the quiet laugh at the end of a sentence to offset a sad story, and there’s the knowing laugh at the end of a hard truth.

Our conversation goes to a lot of unexpected places, sometimes warm, sometimes a bit darker. Before we’ve even ordered our food, she’s both told me about a party she threw for her cast-mates over the weekend and predicted the end of capitalism (“hopefully it’s a soft landing”).

Whyte is immediately likeable and honest. She’s quick to share and thinks deeply on everything, whether it’s what to pick from the menu or why Arthur Miller’s writing still hits a raw nerve.

She selects the blue eye cod because it’s a dish you often see in her home state of Tasmania, she tells me, but it’s far more unusual to find it in Victoria. We both dither when asked if we want any sides, the server talking us through the options then saying we can have half serves if that is any help. As the silence of indecision grows louder, Whyte steps up and orders us a salad and pommes frites.

Gnocci pomodro, blue eye cod and pommes frites at City Wine Shop. Credit: Simon Schluter

We’re at the City Wine Shop because when she was playing both Professor McGonagall and the Trolley Witch in Harry Potter and the Cursed Child at the nearby Princess Theatre she would always see people relaxing outside with a wine and wanted to be on that side of things for one afternoon. That experience, alas, still lies ahead of her – we opt for sparkling water with our meals because a few hours after lunch she will head around the corner to Her Majesty’s Theatre for that evening’s performance of Death of a Salesman.

Whyte plays Linda Loman, wife of the titular salesman, played by Anthony LaPaglia. It’s a demanding role both emotionally and physically. Each performance lasts just over three hours, with all actors in the production on stage for the bulk of the time – while not performing they watch events unfold from a spot on the bleachers which make up most of the set.

From left: Josh Helman, Anthony LaPaglia, Alison Whyte and Sean Keenan in a scene from Death of a Salesman.Credit: Wayne Taylor

Is it tough to be on stage the whole time? “No, it’s actually quite good, just being up there and watching the play unfold.” She pauses to gather her words. “I really love it because the stand is like Willy’s brain really, his consciousness, and we’re just being plucked out. His memories are being plucked out, and then intermeshed with reality. It’s beautiful.”

In what has been a hectic year of moving from character to character – sometimes with overlap in her rehearsal and performance schedules – Whyte seems both grateful and unfazed. “It’s been a good run,” she says. “It’s been a really good run.”

Keeping multiple different people alive in one mind is no issue, she tells me, because the stories are all so different. The main challenge comes down to learning lines. “You have to be really, really strict with your learning,” she reflects.

Of all her recent characters though, “I think Linda’s been my favourite,” she says. Throughout Salesman, Linda is her husband’s greatest advocate, fiercely defending him to their two sons as his mind slips away. As the plot moves back and forth between past and present, across their life together, she is shown building him up, boosting his confidence when he is low, encouraging him to go out and take what he deserves. No matter Willy’s treatment or dismissal of her, Linda’s fury and anger is saved only for those who pull her husband down.

Anthony LaPaglia and Alison Whyte in a scene from Death of a Salesman.Credit: Sam Tabone

“She reminds me of a lot of people. I understand her.” She underscores that it’s only aspects of the character that spark comparisons, and it’s the fierce loyalty in particular that reminds her of loved ones. “My own parents are just beautiful,” she says, “and always got each other’s back.” Of Linda, she says “her love for Willy’s very complete and she wants to protect him, and I love that. I love that about her, I see my own mum in that.”

Emotionally it is a tough role to take on. Part of why Salesman is so enduring, why it is branded one of the greatest plays of the 20th century, is that its dark truths – about ambition, about human nature, about a society that will dry you up until you are no longer of use – are grimly evergreen.

“We all know what’s going to happen,” says Whyte of audiences walking in to the show for the first time. She tells me about how her mother plans to come over from Hobart to see it. “I said, it’s not a very happy play Mum.” She pauses, then switches to her mother’s accent: “It’s all right, I got that from the title.”

Whyte laughs. “It’s very clever, and it’s very upsetting … I think I’m going to need a little holiday in the sun after this one.”

Instead of heading off, however: “I’d like to do a comedy next,” she says with a small laugh.

Actor Alison Whyte at City Wine Shop. Credit: Simon Schluter

Though Whyte’s career has been skewed more towards stage lately, she is keen to do some more screen, in part because of the – arguably – friendlier hours. “I’m a morning person I love waking up to the sunrise – theatre’s not very compatible with that,” she reflects.

One of her most well-known screen roles was on Frontline, a mid-’90s series centring on a fictitious news program. There she played producer Emma, one of the few characters with a strong moral compass. The show has aged well, I say. “Depressingly well,” we agree. I ask what she thinks Emma would be doing now. “Gotten out and running Save the Children?” she suggests, tongue-in-cheek.

Her portrayal of Emma, along with her role as Lauren in Satisfaction led to her winning a Silver Logie for each – something her Salesman cast-mates all learned when they visited her house over the weekend and spotted her awards on the bookshelf.

“I was saying I think I should maybe make some earrings out of the Logies,” she says with a big laugh.

The bill at City Wine Shop.Credit:

For a while Whyte was balancing two quite different and all-consuming careers – acting, and running a pub with her husband. “Yes, we’ve had a few in our time – five,” she says, tallying it up in her head. “We’re out of that now, so [there’s] a little bit more sanity in our lives.” Hospitality, she underscores, is tricky. “It’s gotten harder and harder – particularly since COVID.”

The fish she ordered is perfect she says, exactly as hoped. We don’t manage to finish either the salad or the pommes frites, but once photographer Simon Schluter finishes up he joins us for a chat – and helps us out with the chips.

Whyte has three daughters and describes them all as “arty” though in different ways. The youngest is currently in Year 12 while the oldest is studying sculpture. It’s only her second daughter who has followed her into acting, something which gives Whyte mixed feelings.

“I would love Milly not to be an actor. Not because I don’t think she’s good – I think she’s amazing. But it’s a tricky profession.” This is underscored by the fact that despite this long run of plays Whyte herself has been on, despite the critical praise her role as Linda Loman has garnered, she doesn’t know what’s coming next in her career.

Her love of acting is clear though, and when I ask if she always knew she was going to do performing arts she answers yes immediately. She credits her high school drama teacher with introducing her to performance – and shares that recently she came to see Salesman. “Oh Ali I loved it,” she quotes with pride.

She can see the same passion in her daughter. “She’s got really great instincts. She understands the melody of a play, the musicality of a play. She’s got that innately in her,” says Whyte.

“Conjuring a story is a beautiful thing. I think it’s a beautiful, beautiful privilege – particularly with such beautiful writing [and] taking on different people.”

Death of a Salesman is now entering its final week, but one of the things that Whyte loves most about theatre is its ephemeral nature. “It goes. It’s actually a beautiful thing,” she says. On the closing night of any show, “you say a line and it starts to dissolve,” she reflects. “There are some characters you don’t want to say goodbye to – I’m going to miss Linda.”

Death of a Salesman is on at Her Majesty’s Theatre until October 15.

The Booklist is a weekly newsletter for book lovers from books editor Jason Steger. Get it every Friday.

Most Viewed in Culture

From our partners

Source: Read Full Article