But, insists the energetic and outspoken director, theatre is colour-blind and can build bridges between people. By Patricia Calnan It was when 14-year old Patricia Pogson met Hastings Saltus that her life changed forever.

Until that day, back in 1974, when she was persuaded by one of her school friends to audition for the well-known director of the National Youth Theatre, the Warwick Academy student had harboured vague dreams of becoming a pianist.

But after being given the lead role in his production of Wine in the Wilderness, the theatre bug bit hard and deep. It has never let go.

Hastings Saltus was suitably unimpressed when his young protegee informed him that when she left school she would probably become a secretary.

"It turned out he had quite different plans for my future. He told me I was going to study theatre at Howard University. So off I went!'' Pogson credits the late director as the catalyst who brought Bermuda's black theatre into being. He certainly recognised talent when he saw it; we might assume that what he recognised in Patricia Pogson was not only her starry-eyed fascination with the smell of the greasepaint, but a unique ability to transmit its elusive appeal to the prosaic world around her. Now, some ten years after acquiring that Howard degree (in theatre ducation and a minor in communications), her unwavering conviction that she had could and would stand Bermuda's theatre on its head remains undiminished. Patricia Pogson appears, finally, to be doing just that.

She talks with passion and seemingly endless energy on her vision for Bermuda's theatre. A forthright manner and matter-of-fact approach to whatever problem she happens to be discussing is no less potent for being rooted in a friendly, even merry, personality. She laughs a lot. Her voice, "soft, gentle and low'' in normal conversation, shakes the rafters when she lifts it in song; her rotund frame reveals an undeniable grace as she moves across a stage.

Initially, Pogson acquired her reputation in Bermuda as a performer, both as actress and singer. It soon became apparent that here was someone whose talent seemed to go in almost every direction: a strong creative streak gained dominance as she began to write her own material. But most would agree that she has blossomed into full flower as a theatre director of unusual sensibility.

Now, alongside some rave reviews and a ready acknowledgement that this vibrant and outspoken young woman has put black theatre firmly on Bermuda's cultural map, there is also an increasing groundswell of admiration for Patricia Pogson's work from within the white theatre establishment.

Her direction of the recent City Hall production of Six Degrees of Separation crossed more than one kind of cultural bridge: with a plot centreing around a young black man who manages to convince a group of wealthy Park Avenue whites that he is the son of movie star Sidney Poitier, the play provided a unique opportunity for the two sides to get together. In July her production of The Colored Museum, a satire by black American playwright George Wolfe, broke new ground by being performed at the National Gallery.

And the woman who says she has never felt particularly welcome in Bermuda's predominantly white theatre groups, now has them speaking out, fulsome in their praise for her uncompromising standards.

One of Bermuda's best-known actresses, Connie Dey, who took a lead role in Six Degrees, was particularly impressed with the way in which Pogson insisted on starting each rehearsal with breathing exercises. "Very few people do that.

She is one of the most professional directors I have worked with for a long time. She knows her craft. Working with her was a learning experience and a very happy one. I'd work with her again any time!'' Laura Gorham, another cast member, goes further. "She is the most gifted director I have ever worked with and I'd love to do more work with her. She has this ability to get to the meat of the matter. She taught us how to use sensory recall, drawing on our own past experiences to bring a sense of reality to what we were trying to act. She's a very grass-roots person.'' Long before rehearsals actually began, they reveal that Pogson insisted on some very frank discussions on how they all felt about one another on a personal and racial level; to explore how it would really feel for blacks and whites to work together on a drama that contained subtle, but powerful, explorations of the great divide that still separates the two races in their social, cultural and sexual mores.

"That was sometimes a painful experience for all of us,'' recalls Pogson, "but it really helped us to understand one another. I don't think we could have done a play like that unless we were all approaching it from a position of total honesty.'' She admits that her outspokenness has probably not advanced her theatrical career in Bermuda. "I probably made it harder for myself to climb up the ladder because I insisted on being myself. It was interesting, going to Warwick, because I was exposed to white ethics all the way. Then at Howard, it was black ethics.'' She makes a point of declaring that she is not racist. "I've also been told I have an identity crisis. Neither is true. People just don't know me. Racism, just like the feminist movement, has its place, I guess. Without it, certain rights, such as the right to vote, wouldn't have been achieved. I'm not a feminist either, although I was told by the principal of Victor Scott School that I've been `Oprah-ised'. He seems to think there isn't a man in Bermuda who can keep up with me!'' So is her total commitment to the theatre, which often finds her juggling two or three productions at once, the reason for her single status? "Well,'' she laughs, "as a matter of fact, I've never been married, I've never been engaged and I've never been proposed to. There are no relationships. I date, but nothing serious.'' There is a child, Thai Anthony, now eight-years-old. She smiles enigmatically as she speaks fondly of him and, by a sudden change of subject, suggests that she prefers some areas of her life to remain private.

But Patricia Pogson is no shrinking violet when it comes to expressing her views on the theatre and politics. Indeed, in conversation, the two tend to merge, for she sees the lack of opportunities for young artists and what she perceives as indifference to the arts in general, as part of what is wrong with Bermudian society today.

"Yes, of course there's still racism on Front Street.'' She mentions this almost as an aside in a wider plea for the theatre to be recognised as a vital force of influence in the community.

"I was told that the Bermuda Festival was about `world-class' entertainment only, but my answer to that is that local theatre cannot even compete unless it's given practical support.'' She readily admits that artistic standards have to improve but believes this is unlikely to happen unless or until Bermudians have a change of attitude: "Why is it that we've produced world-class sportsmen? I'll tell you why. It's because sport is taken seriously. But the arts, for some reason, are regarded on this Island as nothing more than a hobby. If you're going to talk about people on the low end of the wage scale, artists are it! If we didn't have 9 till 5 jobs, we'd all be living at the Salvation Army.'' Her braided hair bounces about with a hint of exasperation as she elaborates."Without the arts nothing else can exist. The arts don't just encompass things like painting, or performances of dance, music and drama. The arts cover many media and in so many different ways that people don't even seem to realise that some form of art is constantly employed in all aspects of our lives. Advertising, that's just one example. It couldn't exist without the writers and graphic artists. And sports needs creative people - writers and photographers and film-makers who make the world of sport exciting through their special talents. Yet no-one takes the arts seriously, and very few realise the debt that is owed by the public in general to the creative people who, for some reason, are very badly paid. Or, in the case of our local theatre, are not paid at all.'' Her determination to change that has not been shaken. In 1991, she formed Black Box Performance Workshops, presently situated on Court Street, as a logical move in that direction.

"I do see a day when Bermuda could support a repertory theatre. At Black Box, we have a staff of eight and all of them have training in the areas they work in. Musicians, quite rightly, insist on being paid. I see no reason why people in theatre shouldn't be paid as well. I've done my time in community theatre for the last 17 years of my career. I think part of the reason why theatre isn't taken seriously here is because it's all done for free. I'm a professional and I have the right to be paid.'' Warren Cabral, well known through his work with the Bermuda Musical and Dramatic Society as an actor, director, and a writer whose three recently-staged plays and a pantomime explore a Bermudian idiom, agrees that a community the size of Bermuda should be able to support at least one small, professional theatre.

"It's certainly within the realms of possibility. It would be highly desirable to have a repertory company, especially from the tourist point of view. And Pat is as creative and versatile a person as you're going to get on this Island.'' In his opinion, it is Pogson's technical knowledge in using a stage, her natural sense of drama, combined with communication skills that enable her to bring out latent talent in her performers, which places her "in a league of her own''.

One of her greatest fans (and friends) is producer, actor and fellow teacher, Nigerian-born Rotimi Martins.

"Pat is very creative, very hard-working. But she also gets a lot of fun out of life. I think one of her biggest contributions to the community is her work with kids. She's giving them a firm foundation and if you build firm foundations, the house will stand safe and strong. Theatre is one of the best educational tools which can be extensively used for therapeutic puposes. It helps young people to define themselves - and society, too,'' he says.

Pogson, referring to herself as "a Happy Valley girl - I've always lived there'', says she finds it "unusual'' to talk so much about herself. But she explains that her name derives from St. Kitts, brought here by her great-grandfather some 65 years ago.

"He seemed to disappear after that. My mother was a Pogson. My father was the infamous Austin (Sockie) Wade, secretary of the Hotels Division of the Bermuda Industrial Union. I never met him until I was 12. But after I went to college I got to know him and in 1989 we took our first trip together, to Barbados.

That's when we really got to know each other and found we were very much alike. Very politically attuned, adventurous, and we both like the outdoors.

We even found we wore colours that matched!'' She is close to her mother but admits "not as close as I would like. She's the office manager at the BIU and is now Ethel Godwin''.

Pogson believes she inherited her love of theatre partly from her mother - "well known as a ballet dancer in her day'' - and from the grandfather she called `Daddy' as a child and now recognises as being "a natural comedian.

During her time at university, where she became Vice President of the Howard Players, Pogson embraced every aspect of theatre, from performing to stage design, directing, producing - even sewing costumes. Her natural ability to act and sing ensuredher inclusion in a touring group which promoted African culture through educational theatre. This was a happy and fulfilling time for Pogson and after she obtained her degree, she cherished hopes of turning professional.

"But I ran out of money and decided to come back here.'' She shrugs her shoulders and explains with a wry smile that she weighed only 125 pounds upon graduation. "So I was very confident, to begin with, having worked for two touring companies. But auditioning is the most demoralising thing. Joining lines that are three or four blocks long, waiting hours to get on the stage.

Then, after you've spoken one line, they shout `thank you very much' and that's the end of it!'' She snaps out of this uncharacteristically wistful reverie with a bright laugh.

"My talent seems to be directing now. I don't know if that's because of my age, my size, or my hair-do! But, anyway, I do love it.'' She is an advocate of the `method' approach to acting, where performers call on past experiences or find something relevant through a process of transferral.

"As a director, you have to understand the concept of a piece, feel the flow of rising and falling action through to the climax. You have to have a vision of the play in your mind from the time it opens to the curtain call. This is essential for a director.'' By day, Patricia Pogson earns her bread and butter as head of the performing arts department at St. George's Secondary School. She also teaches social studies, which may explain why her classroom is plastered with pictures of famous black heroes: the only concession to the arts in this collection are photographs of dancer Alvin Ailey and reggae star Bob Marley.

There are dressing-up boxes from which the children retrieve a collection of hats. On this particular day, the first-year students are working on the Hat Trick. An assortment of panamas, fedoras, net-trimmed ladies' hats, and face masks will help them `feel' the characters of people who come to life in a wax museum. Taped music issues forth and, true to her preferred method of teaching, be it children or adults, she encourages them to think about the characters they have chosen to portray. But in spite of the fact that four out of the six actors rather alarmingly announce that they have decided to be murderers, there is a marked reluctance to get into the spirit of the thing.

She is deeply committed to youth theatre, however, and in the course of one academic year at St. George's, produces a fashion and talent show, a Christmas play, a special production for black history month touring from school to school and a school play.

It is probably true to say that she first made her mark in local theatre through her work with the Island's youth, beginning with the Cedar Roots Ensemble in 1985, and her annual travelling Road Show productions, sponsored by Government.

But it was last year's Black Box production of the Fats Waller musical, Ain't Misbehavin', that really made the Bermuda public suddenly sit up straight in their City Hall seats. The standard attained by the cast (of which Pogson was a radiant and tuneful member) reflected what is now recognised as her personal stamp all over it. That stamp is, in a word, `professional' - or as near to it as tiny Bermuda might reasonably hope to achieve.

Until now, Pogson has concentrated on modern, black theatre. But she believes theatre can be colour-blind and cites the huge success of `crossover theatre' in Canada during the 1980s: "It's like music. It helps bring people together.'' She likes Shakespeare and made an in-depth study of his work at Howard. Her favourite play is The Taming of the Shrew ("now I wonder why that is?'') but she casually lets drop that she is planning a production of Othello for next year.

Her lecturer in Greek drama at Howard was Joseph Walker, the first black Tony award winner. "He always added an African twist,'' she laughs and adds that, eventually, she would love to stage versions of Oedipus Rex, Medea and, possibly, Antigone.

As her professional life seems to become more and more frantic - she is also working on two films, a musical with Elsbeth Gibson, and an October production ofBefore It Hits Home - there are, nevertheless, signs of a new serenity emerging from Patricia Pogson.

"I'll be 34 in September. They say three-score years plus ten, so next year half my life will be over. So I've decided to accept that I may not succeed in some things. Sometimes, it worries me that I'm seen as a role model. I don't want people to think too highly of me. It makes it so hard if you do fail. But I just pursue my aims and try to be sensible about it and to keep some balance in my life.'' To that end, she walks "vast'' distances every day and because she is fighting a weight battle (losing 70 pounds since January), she is a vegetarian ("unless it's a barbecue. I love barbecues!''). Walking and swimming, she says, helps her to handle stress.

She will need all the help she can muster in the coming months and years: her projected plans make impressive, but mind-boggling reading. Near the top of the list is a "huge'' theatre festival slated for 1995, featuring visual artists and musicians.

"But the emphasis is on theatre. And I want local talent only. I'm planning a trilogy - a musical, a drama and a comedy. And I've already booked City Hall for two weeks.'' She says this with a hint of defiance, daring anyone to question her resolve.

There is another project, however, scheduled for later this year and mention of it brings undisguised excitement to those dark brown eyes. In November she introduces dinner theatre to the Princess Hotel in Hamilton, rotating three comedies - Livin' Fat, Horowitz and Mrs. Washington and When The Cat's Away - every weekend throughout the winter season.

"I have always said it was my dream to bring about professional theatre in Bermuda.,'' she says. "Who knows, this could be the realisation of my dream.'' Patricia Calnan is arts critic for The Royal Gazette. She wrote about the Bermuda Festival for RG No.1.

Pat Pogson, centre, with the cast of The Colored Museum, clockwise from bottom: Laurel Burns, Shernette Peniston, Robert Wilkinson, Ginea Edwards and Danjou Anderson.

"My talent seems to be directing now. I don't know if that's because of my age, my size, or my hair-do! But I do love it.'' "As director, you have to understand the concept of a piece, feel the flow of rising and falling action through to the climax.'' SEPTEMBER 1993 RG MAGAZINE