Winter in Summer

The Winters Tale
RSC at the Courtyard Theatre, Stratford-Upon-Avon
23rd July 2009

The RSC have put together a new ensemble which will work on a number of productions between now and 2011. If these first fruits are anything to go by, it promises to be a very good run indeed.

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As We Like It!

Royal Shakespeare Company
The Courtyard Theatre, Stratford Upon Avon

As You Like It
23rd of April 2009

In 2007, Neil Bartlett directed a version of “Twelfth Night” for the RSC which held tightly together in the first half of the performance but tended to be more unwieldy after the interval as the drama led us out into countryside celebrations and a hippy-chic interpretation of some of the songs in the second half. It was bright, colourful but a little too flamboyant for its own good. Watching Michael Boyd’s take on “As You Like It” at the Courtyard in Stratford-Upon-Avon, I began to wonder if this production was going to fall into the same problems. Tight and precisely directed in the city action of the first scenes, a little too wild in places as the action transferred to the forest in later scenes.

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A Heavy-Handed and Stormy Tempest

Thursday Night, 12 March 2009
The Tempest by William Shakespeare
RSC Courtyard Theatre, Stratford

Another night with the RSC and another lesson in handling Shakespeare when the director wants to “discover” a flavour of a modern theme in the midst of the script. Janice Honeyman believes that The Tempest will speak powerfully to the world of European Colonialism and African slavery. I believe that her direction and the text’s natural moral direction are at odds with each other and that her insistence on making this idea central to the production may have swamped the play just as badly as Alonso’s ship is swamped by Prospero’s magic.

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Fool, if you think…….

One of the great trademarks of Shakespeare’s plays is the way that the fools and clowns of the various plays are the deliverers of so much wit and wisdom. From the erudite fool in King Lear via the midpoint of the humour of the Porter in MacBeth to the comic turn that is Launcelot Gobbo in Merchant of Venice, the collected works are full of them.

So you’d expect that there would be a fool in Titus Andronicus and indeed there is and we’ve not yet looked at his role. The simply-named “Clown” does not arrive on the scene until Act 4 Scene 3, line 76.1. He is asked by Titus to deliver a message to Saturninus, the Emperor. He tells us no hidden truth and aside from one strong joke which would be understood by the audience of the day, he has no particularly witty words to give us and he understands less. By scene 4 of the same Act, he delivers his message and by line 48 of that scene he is led away to his death. Don’t shoot the messenger, indeed!

If this was a late play in the Shakespearean writings, then you might think that old Will is ironically dispelling our expectations. After a career of using the fools of the theatre company to deliver insight, here is one who has nothing to say and only a brief moment upon the stage ending in his own death. But Titus Andronicus, as far as we know, is the earliest of the Shakespearean tragedies. So what are we to understand through this?

Well, perhaps, Shakespeare is pointing out that in corrupt society even truth dies. Even the hidden channels by which truth sometimes comes are closed off. In the scene that has Clown’s appearance, old Andronicus is firing arrows into the heavens (no mean feat with one good arm) with messages attached, hoping to contact the Divine who seems to have hidden his face. He then proceeds to fire them towards the Emperor’s palace in the hope of at least notifying him of his complaint. Neither tactic seems to produce much (except a bird that falls from the heavens) so Titus depends on the Clown to deliver his message for him.

The final channel for truth in this corrupt society is stopped and is hung upon the gallows. Redemption, if there is any, must come from without.

Will you still have a song to sing when the razor boy comes and takes your fancy things away……

So I’m into my seventh week of hanging around with Titus Andronicus. If you’ve seen me on the tube, I bet I was reading Titus Androncius. If you’ve seen behind a plate of food, I’d guess that Titus Andronicus was there too. And everywhere that me and my trusty “Steely Dan – Everything Must Go” bag have gone, well, Titus Andronicus was right along with us. But I’m coming towards an end. I’ve read everything I can find that’s related to it. I’ve absorbed the text and I guess I only have two or three more journal entries to bore you with. One of which is here and now……

So if you read the play or you’ve read one of my musings on the subject, you’ll remember that one of the key events of the story is the rape and mutilation of Titus’ daughter, Lavinia. The play was one of the most popular of his works during Shakespeare’s lifetime. During the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the play was virtually unstageable. It was thought to be indecorous. It was thought to be in bad taste. When Peter Brook directed it with Laurence Olivier in the 1950s, he was credited with saving “this dreadful play”. I’ve already mentioned T.S. Eliot’s condemnation in a previous journal entry.

But I think that it is a great play (as if my voice matters!) and every major production of the last century has been (or seems to have been) a landmark in the history of Shakespearean theatre.

I think that is obvious that the root of these widely divergent views lies in the aforementioned rape and mutilation (mercifully, portrayed offstage) but also in the depiction od the reaction to these crimes.

If Shakespeare was living in the 21st century and if he was a film director, there is no doubt that the revealing of Lavinia after her assault would be done at the end of the scene rather than at a beginning. Also, there seems little doubt that the reaction to her assault would include many meaningful silences, mood-driven stares and tears. But the standards of the theatre of his day were the standards of his day and it is how the play works within these standards that we must judge it. In a Shakespearean script there are no silences, there are no pregnant pauses. There are only words and a very minimum of stage directions. The convention was for three, four, five acts with a few scenes with in each and so there is no space for us to withdraw and find out how the family has dealt with these horrendous events months later. The story is the thing and the action must roll remorsefully on. And there are always words and more words. But what words do you speak when you are presented with your daughter raped and with both hands cut off. There are none that are fit and certainly none that Shakespeare had. So instead he concentrates not on the emotion of the moment but what the mutilation means. And this he does very well indeed.

Marcus: This was thy daughter
Titus: Why, Marcus, so she is

Marcus’ (Titus’ brother) use of the past tense implies that Lavinia is less than she was before the assault – perhaps that in her current physical state, she has become less than human. Titus is the voice of compassion. He knows that she is still what she was before but great violence has been done to her. She has not lost her honour or womanhood. Others have tried to take them from her and they have failed but he cannot help with the shame feels. And to reckon all of these things is hard and Titus loses his sanity. His mind breaks. In the process, Shakespeare teaches us that there are no great nations, no great empires, by definition – only nations that are great for a time because they are driven by great and moral men. The Romans, in the story, have already adopted the morality of the Goth people they have defeated – they had to descend to their level in order to win the war but now Lucius, son of Titus, most leave Rome to keep his life and to avoid being part of the dreadful decline that has begun.

Shakespeare shows us that the pattern of people’s lives doesn’t change across the century. He uses Ovid’s depiction of Ancient Greece (another empire that came to naught) and it’s mythology to show that the pattern that was then was re-occurring in Rome and perhaps by extension that it was capable of happening in his own generation — and therefore, as we read today, in ours.

Chiron (son of the Goth queen) declares in an earlier scene: “I love Lavinia more than all the world”. He has confused love with lust. And he satisfies that “love” through rape. Sex is debased in a society that is debased. Lives are destroyed. And eventually a new kingdom arises. And men have the chance to fail again….. or even succeed, perhaps.

The Merchant of Venice

Well, back from 4 days in Stratford-Upon-Avon.

What can I say? The town is a mess. The unnecessary vigour to tear down the old theatre and replace it with a new one as now spread to the Bancroft Gardens. Every inch seems to have been dug over and turned to mud. Fences and scaffold surround everywhere in sight and I felt sorry for those who had travelled from France and Japan (seemed like the only two kind of tourists in evidence!) who had made a long journey and who were missing the old town at its best.

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