She was a Broadway actor, a wife and mother – and now, at 93, a theatre blogger. The one thing that hasn’t changed is Blanche Marvin’s memory-filled house.
When Blanche Marvin moved to her flat in London, it was on a temporary basis, until she could find somewhere more suitable. That was 50 years ago. Rent was £8 a week: “It was déclassé to live above a shop, so it was cheap,” she says in her throaty, well-bred New York accent. She has rented it for so long that she now has residents’ rights. And besides, no one would dare turf this small but formidable nonagenarian on to the street: she has gale-force opinions on everything from plastic bags to actors.
Marvin, a former actor and producer, is probably one of the most active theatre critics you’ve never heard of. At 93, she still goes to the theatre “most nights”, and writes thorough reviews which she publishes at blanchemarvin.com. She regards her pieces as providing a service; they are written, she says, for the industry – directors, producers, other critics. “My reviews don’t put bums on seats. I’m older than anyone else – I’ve seen the originals, I can provide the context. Critics used to be authorities. Now they’re just journalists. I’m the only one left.”
Born Blanche Zohar in New York in 1925, Marvin left home aged 14. She worked as an actor and dancer on Broadway, was courted by Marlon Brando, and became a close friend of Tennessee Williams. The playwright, she claimed, named Blanche DuBois in A Streetcar Named Desire after her. Around this time, she met the producer Mark Marvin, 17 years her senior.
By her early 20s, she was living in postwar Europe, setting up theatres in Germany and picking up acting work in Italy. “Then I got a telegram from Mark saying, meet me in Paris, where he proposed. I dropped everything.” Paris was “hostile – people shopping collaborators to the authorities”. Shortly after, the newlyweds moved to London, where Marvin has lived since. The couple had two children, before Mark died in 1958.
With her striking outfits, strong sense of style and colour, and trademark cloche hats, Marvin has the air of a well-kept, wealthy woman. “I could have gone to Hollywood, become a big star and married a rich man,” she says. “But that wasn’t for me. I’ve never had any money. Beyond rent and food, I don’t care: I don’t go on holiday. I sit in the square in the sun and drink a coffee. I have nothing to leave my children except what’s in this house.”
Her home reflects this thrifty lifestyle. It consists of a kitchen, living room, office and dining room that doubles as a bedroom, with a daybed in the corner where she sleeps at night. She takes pride in the way her furniture adapts to the small space: the sofa becomes a guest bed; a small table hinges out to become a larger one; a wooden bench turns into another table. “Everything is convertible,” she says. “I’m very organised – in a small space, you have to be.”
