Challenging expectations, or actor insecurity.

Titus Andronicus opens tonight. Working up Marcus has been a great experience. I've enjoyed working with the cast and crew. For me, most of what I enjoy about doing theatre is working with the text, about finding secrets. Those moments of discovery, when you feel you find a deeper level of meaning - that's what I love. And I've found that over the course of this process, I've changed how I initially felt about almost every single line Marcus has. At this point, I see almost nothing Marcus says the same way I saw it the first few times I read the play. It's been very rewarding.

However, I'm also somewhat nervous about that fact. I've already posted about the difficulties with the speech I have when Marcus finds Lavinia. The natural instinct is to comfort her, but the words of the speech are in no way comforting to Lavinia. On the contrary, Marcus seems to be focused on himself, on accepting and coming to terms with the violence that has been done on his niece. I put a good deal of thought into how this speech worked, and ultimately decided that it should generally be played *away* from Lavinia, instead of to her, because it's so internal. As much as I'd love to run to Lavinia and make everything okay, that's not the speech that was written for me. The speech I have is about my character's anguish, even though it's in the face of much greater pain. I'd also note that playing the speech this way allows for a contrast with Titus' reaction when he first sees Lavinia. Playing the speech to her, comforting her physically - I think they are safe choices, uninteresting, and contradict the text. But I think those choices are exactly what people will expect. I imagine people will ask me why I didn't do those things, or go home wondering.

I'm looking forward to getting this run started so I'll have a little more time to write about this topic. The question, as I see it, is how much should an actor let the expectations of the audience (and the critics) inform how he or she portrays the character? Do you give the people what they want, or do you stick to the meaning you've wrestled out of the text? For better or for worse, I'm going to be faithful to my understanding of the text - I think my choices are supported by the text, they are emotionally true to me, and they are consistent. And yet, I fear that people won't appreciate or understand the choice. I suppose if that happens, the fault will be mine, for somehow not selling it enough.

More on this to come.

Why scan Shakespeare's verse?

Not too long ago, I posted a page from my work with the text preparing to play Marcus Andronicus. Someone I respect very much asked me if doing this sort of work didn’t take away from the flow and/or the meaning. I replied off the cuff that, on the contrary, I think this kind of work adds to the meaning. It was not a very useful response. I thought I’d expand on my ideas on this a little more, in what is almost certain to be a rambling post.

First of all, I think of a script as similar to a sheet of music. But we’re used to modern scripts that generally only have the notes – no time. A sheet of music that just says “g, g, g, e, f, f, f, d,” only gives you part of the information you need to play the music. Obviously, there are many, many ways that those notes could be played. But when you start with an eighth rest, play three eighth notes and then a half note, you get the opening motif of Beethoven’s Fifth.

Modern writers are sometimes conscious of time and sometimes not. Some of them write in pauses, ellipses, etc. But in Shakespeare’s time, verse was a very common form, and one in which plays were very commonly performed. It was something the actors and audiences were used to. And for that reason, something the playwrights generally used as a tool. That’s one of the reasons why if an actor wants to wring the most possible out of the text of an early modern play, the actor has to pay close attention to the verse.

Take this line from Hamlet, for example:

Adieu, adieu! Hamlet, remember me.

The first thing we do is see if we can read the line in ten syllables, with stress on the even numbered syllables.

a DIEU, a DIEU! ham LET, re MEM ber ME.

Nope, that doesn’t make sense. It has to be

a DIEU, a DIEU! HAM let, re MEM ber ME.

Now, I certainly don’t think there are no errors in the text of Shakespeare’s plays. Note how Orsino is called both Duke and Count in Twelfth Night. That seems like an error that just never got fixed. But placing that stress on the first syllable of Hamlet in that position seems to be done for a reason. That line could easily have been written in regular verse.

Adieu, adieu! And Hamlet, don’t forget.

It seems obvious to me that there’s meant to be a lot of emphasis on Hamlet’s name in this line. The ghost is disappearing, but wants to stress the importance of the message before he goes. A final plea. It’s an exclamation point. Many actors would probably treat that last sentence that way regardless of the verse, but in many cases, the verse will reveal emphasis that you might not otherwise think of. Emphasis that was specifically written in by the playwright. To disregard it is to ignore an important piece of the text.