To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown

On December 10^th, we all got together for a read-through of Richard II. And now that my semester is over, I’m turning my attention to trying to understand this play. It’s my opinion that a common trap in working on a play is getting caught up in details that are really beside the point. Forcing the action into a setting, trying to replicate some staging conditions – things that have little to do with the one thing which we can actually be pretty certain of – the text. That’s why I started Poor Shadows in the first place. I want everything to grow out of, and be supported by the text. Not that we’ll never do a conceptual piece, mind you – I think that will definitely happen, and I have a few things in mind – but those ideas are based on bringing out elements in the text.

Anyway, back to Richard II. Apparently, Sam Taylor Coleridge took a look at this play a long time ago and decided that Richard had certain bad qualities that led to his downfall, and that all of those qualities were “feminine.” It seems that this idea has been basically unchallenged ever since. So, when you see a production of this play, very often what you get is a hyper-feminine Richard. Ben Whishaw in the Hollow Crown is an example, but Derek Jacobi’s was just as twee. Fiona Shaw even played the role. I think this feminine Richard concept is a trap. And it seems inconsistent with the relationship between Richard and his queen. I believe she has genuine affection and respect for him. This is not the same relationship that Edward II and Isabella have. Despite Bolingbroke’s suggestion that Bushy and Green have “made a divorce” between the king and queen – which I think is a lie anyway, based on his irregular verse in the speech, she seems to think he is a model king, and even compares him to a lion.

What is this play really about? I think it’s summed up in this one line from III.ii: “To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown.” This is a play about shrewd steel, or realpolitik, finally challenging the golden crown, the divine right of kings. It is a play about the transition from the medieval to the modern; from the poet king, whose court contained Chaucer, Gower, Clanvowe, and others, to Henry IV, a no-nonsense king who has no poetry in him. Focusing on the old (and not particularly textual) Richard-is-a-woman trope turns the attention away from the real point of the play, in my opinion.

Now, all that being said… this is just my interpretation, and Aaron and Christina will each have their own. I think it would be interesting if one of our Richards in this production played the role in a traditional way, while the other production focused on the medieval-modern switch. Then we could really see how differently the play works on the stage with the two interpretations. But so far, Aaron and I have avoided making strategic choices like that (Aaron called that sort of approach “collusion,” which I think is pretty apt). It will be interesting to see how it develops in rehearsal.

Richard II

My first semester of grad school draws to a close. As I drink my morning coffee and get ready to resume work on a paper I'm writing about censorship of the deposition scene in Richard II, I decided to spend a little more time on my lines for the next production I'll be working on, which, not coincidentally, is Richard II.  That led me to further procrastinate by writing this blog post. I've neglected the old blog while I was in school. Directing Doctor Faustus and playing Coriolanus while in grad school (and working) has kept me running for the past few months, so I'm indulging myself with a blog post this morning.

A few words about my new company, Poor Shadows of Elysium, are in order, I guess. I call it "my" company not because I'm trying to claim credit for all that's happening. I have a great team of people working with me on this, each of whom are invaluable. I call it mine because I started it, I gathered the team, and as of right now, the vision and direction are mine. If what we do is a success, it will be a credit to everyone involved. If it's a failure, the blame can only be mine, because I can't imagine a better group of people to help me realize my vision. I hope this company will continue to grow and evolve.

When I started working on RII, I had a few preconceptions about the play that have already changed, without even having the first reading yet. Chiefly, I thought the conflict in the play was ambiguous, that it wasn't clear whether Bolingbroke or Richard was the hero. After scanning the lines, I don't believe that any more. Richard's verse is very regular, overall, even when he's obviously in a heightened emotional state (which is always). Bolingbroke's verse, on the contrary, is full of irregular endings. By the time I finished scanning Act III, Scene 1, when Bolingbroke speaks to Bushy and Green before they are executed, I felt strongly that Bolingbroke was a lying bastard. Although he gives reasons for the executions, I think they're bullshit. His eyes are on the prize, and he's Machiavelling his way to the throne.

In our production of RII, we're taking an unusual approach. I wanted to do a coin flip at the start of each show, to determine which actor plays Richard and which actor plays Bolingbroke. This was inspired in part by the 1973 John Barton production, where two actors switched the role every night, and in part by the ASC's recent coin-toss Hamlet (the coin toss determined whether they would do the quarto version or the folio version of the play.) Also, honestly, I wanted Poor Shadows' first production to be a bold one. In many ways, I think the play is about how the crown wears the king - how it affects both Richard and Henry, and how interchangeable they are. Because of the coin flip and what the play says about the two characters who wear the crown, I wanted an actor who was very different from me in the other role. I think we have that in Aaron Black.

Aaron has an MFA in acting from The New School. Obviously, he's very well-versed in acting techniques. My approach to acting, by contrast, is almost entirely based on the text. I sometimes supplement my work on a play by bringing in things outside the script, but the things I consider are normally things that might have been known to the audience, such as the historical context of the action of the play, or stories that were in existence at the time the play was written. I can't really speak to what Aaron's process is, exactly, but I am very excited by the knowledge that he will make very different choices than I will, and people will get a very different show depending on which way the coin toss goes. I can't wait to see what he comes up with. This is really going to be fun.

It's also worth mentioning that this is going to make things very interesting for our entire cast. To the extent they interact with one of the kings, they're going to have the opportunity to play the same character two different ways. I'm sure I'll write about some of their discoveries once rehearsal starts. While I'm on the subject - what a fantastic cast we have.

I think our production is going to reveal a lot about the play. This is what I love.

A review of the production of Doctor Faustus I directed.

broadwayworld.com

Gluttony

The Faustus cast isn't even finalized yet, and my next project is already starting to come together. This is going to be a Crucible. I can't wait.

Poor Shadows of Elysium

So, this is a thing that exists now. More to come, soon.

Doctor Faustus: Challenges, Part I

The story of Doctor Faustus did not originate with Christopher Marlowe, but Marlowe’s version of the story was enormously successful in its time. The story has been retold and adapted hundreds of times in the intervening centuries. I think it’s difficult to overstate the significance of this play.

The play is not without its problems, though. It can be said the The Tragicall History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus occupies a pivotal place in the development of English theatre. In some ways, the play is a bridge between medieval and modern drama, and between the morality play and the modern tragedy. In fact, at least one critic has called Doctor Faustus the first tragedy written in English.

Early Modern English theatre is a passion of mine. And while it’s important to me to respect the work, our actors will not be playing to an early modern audience. They will be playing to an audience that has very different expectations. I’ve decided to adapt the text somewhat to try to minimize some of the problems that I anticipate. I certainly wouldn’t say that anything I’m doing is an original idea – I’m sure most, if not all of these things have been done before – but I will say that I arrived at them independently. And I’m going to try to talk about them without spoilers. We’ll see how well I do.

Modern audiences are accustomed to a higher degree of realism in entertainment. We have more difficulty accepting storylines involving twins played by actors who don’t look alike, or storylines involving cross-dressing. One common device in early modern theatre was doubling of roles. Audiences would likely key off of certain costume pieces, and merely accept the fact that the actor who just walked offstage as one character walked right back on as someone totally different. Doctor Faustus is a very episodic play. Several characters appear in only one or two scenes and are never seen again. It would require an enormous cast to stage the play with a different actor in every role. Doubling is a must. I think I’ve found a way to make the doubling clear to people who are unfamiliar with the concept.

Another issue with Doctor Faustus is Marlowe’s tendency to give his actors very long speeches. Faustus has several very long speeches in which he debates his choices with himself. I’m dividing some of these speeches up between different actors. I think it’s going to work very well, it will add more action and tension to the speeches, and there will be more movement. Overall, I think it’ll be more interesting to watch without losing much, if anything.

Now, now, work serious thoughts on baneful plots

'Tis Pity has been a hell of a ride. I was very worried at one point, because Giovanni operates at a very high emotional state throughout this play. The stakes are enormous for him. I was really concerned that, because of that, I'd deliver a performance that lacked variety. But, by the time we opened, I realized there were several scenes that showed another side of him. The morning after scene, the "view well her face" speech, and "busy opinion is an idle fool" all allow opportunities to show a calmer, tender side. Nevertheless, it's a very demanding role.

The process of working on this show has been fantastic. I am so grateful to have been given this opportunity. The cast and crew are top notch. I'm honored to be part of this show, and I only hope I can live up to the work they're doing.

This weekend, I got my acceptance to grad school, where I'll be studying Theatre History and Dramatic Criticism. And Doctor Faustus and Coriolanus are on the horizon. Finally, I'm hoping to get my own theatre company up and running early next year. More on that later, after the venue is locked up.

It's been an amazing theatre year for me.

Doctor Faustus

Although it's been over two months since my last post, I've been keeping busy. I'm currently prepping to play Giovanni in John Ford's 'Tis Pity She's a Whore. And while I love this play and I'm really enjoying working with this group, it's not Shakespeare. By that, I mean that I don't have the sense that this play contains the kind of encoded meaning that Shakespeare's verse does. Consequently, there seems to be less opportunity for discoveries in the text. Of course, I still have more work to do, so I hope I change my mind about that.

I have a couple of other projects on the horizon as well. I'm very excited to be directing a production of Marlowe's Doctor Faustus this Fall. I've begun my work on the text for this play. There are two surviving versions of the play, known as the A-Text and the B-Text (published in 1604 and 1616, respectively... both dates long after Marlowe's death in 1593). Henslowe's Diary notes a payment in November of 1602 of 4 pounds to William Bird and Samuel Rowley for additions to the play. It's not clear which language in either text is attributable to them (although an argument can be made for one scene, which contains several instances of a noun followed by an adjective ending with -al, a phrasing that shows up a lot in Rowley's work).

Anyway, there's no way to know with any certainty which is the "true" text. But I don't really believe in that sort of thing, anyway. These texts were not considered sacred in their time, and while I do want to treat the play with respect, it isn't a holy relic. The chief thing is playability. So, I've started my work, which is to go through both versions of the text (edited by David Bevington) and compare them word for word. When I find a conflict between the two versions, my sole determining factor is which phrasing I think is stronger. In at least one instance, though, I plan to leave the choice between the two versions up to the actor. I think I may find be more of those, as I continue to work through the text.

My first experience with theatre was when I was six years old. I played a character called Mr. Tall in my class play. I don’t remember anything about the show except that I walked onstage, said my first line, and got a huge laugh. I was hooked. I did as much theatre as it was possible to do in my sleepy little home town (not much), and managed to get a partial theatre scholarship to college.

When I started college, I was as thin as a rail and looked like I was about 14. I suppose it isn’t surprising that I didn’t get cast in significant parts in the first few shows we did. But the program was a small one, and consequently, there wasn’t that much competition. Nevertheless, it broke my heart when I didn’t get cast in our production of Medea. It’s probably true for almost all actors, but particularly very young ones, that when you aren’t cast in a show, it feels like a very personal statement that there is something about you that just isn’t good enough – that you are inherently flawed in some way. The AD was a sophomore and a friend of mine. He told me in confidence that the director really struggled with the casting decision, and ultimately said, “Kevin is so talented, he’s going to be cast all the time.” That really didn’t console me. I could imagine that being said every time a show was cast.

It’s been both a blessing and a curse that I have so many interests. I think people who are really successful usually focus on one thing to the exclusion of all others, and I certainly don’t have a history of that. I changed schools and majors, and "focused" on playing guitar for the next several years. Eventually, I got back into theatre, and it seems that lately, I *have* focused on that to the exclusion of everything else. And, lo and behold, auditions are coming up for a production of Medea. It would be the closing of a big circle to play Jason in this production, putting that college experience behind me.

And yet, of course, there’s another wrinkle.

A year or two ago, I was worrying that during my divorce from theatre, I'd aged out of the chance to play a lot of the great roles. This was underscored when I didn't get Henry in a recent production of Henry V (never mind that, in my opinion, the actor who played the role reads significantly older than I do). But I really freaked out when I was offered the role of Leonato in Much Ado. It’s a great role, of course, but I think he needs to be older (it's relevant to the action of the play, when Leonato challenges Claudio to a duel. That scene is very different with a younger Leonato.) To put it in the context of the seven stages of man from As You Like It, I think Leonato is a pantaloon. I still see myself as a soldier, but of course, being offered Leonato made me doubt myself. And then, of course, I started listing off roles I really want to play that I’d never be able to do because it wouldn't be age-appropriate. I was extremely anxious (and that’s putting it mildly) when I auditioned for Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet. In fact, I was quite certain I hadn’t gotten the part for a few weeks. In the end, I did get the role, and I'm pretty proud of the work I did. I received some really wonderful compliments from several people whose opinions I value highly, and the show was a great experience.

A few seconds ago, I sent an e-mail cancelling my audition for Medea. I’ve been offered the role of Giovanni in ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore. I never would have seen myself in this role, because of my age. And I think the production is going to be fantastic. I’m excited to be working with each member of the cast that I know, I'm confident that the actors I don't know will bring it, and I have the sense that the direction is going to help me do the best work I can do. So instead of having a chance to play the role that I left acting over, I’ve turned down a shot at that role for one that I’m even more excited about, one that I didn’t think was even available to me.  It’s an even better way to close the chapter than I’d imagined.

Sitting backstage last night, I had some ideas for a new post. I was going to talk about pronoun inflection, about how people sometimes gloss over the word "that" when I think it should be stressed, and about people thinking "an" means "and," instead of "if." But more than anything else, what I really want to say is that we had a fantastic audience last night.

I'll save all that other stuff for later. Right now - thanks, audience.

Why, is not this better now than groaning for love?

I've written a few posts already on the alleged homoerotic undertones in Romeo & Juliet (and hopefully, this will be the last). As I’ve stated, I don’t see any real support for it in the text. Over the past few weeks, I’ve read a lot of material on the topic. I think the support for the interpretation is weak and simply lacks perspective.

The argument seems to go like this: since Mercutio is so obviously misogynistic, there must be a reason for it. And that fact, coupled with the fact that he makes sexual jokes around Romeo means he must be in romantic love with Romeo. I think it’s total crap. Now, that’s not to say that an actor playing the role couldn’t feel that this interpretation is supported by the text and make choices accordingly. But the idea that this is clear from the text, or that it’s the ONLY possible interpretation (as is sometimes implied), is just nonsense, as far as I’m concerned.

The first step in the analysis is a bit of a logical leap, in my opinion. It assumes that because something COULD be interpreted a certain way, it MUST be. I don’t see anything particularly misogynistic that Mercutio says or does. Certainly nothing that compares with the ending of The Taming of the Shrew or Two Gentlemen of Verona. Much weight is given to the fact that Mercutio speaks negatively about love. Let’s remember, though, that his friend, Romeo, has been walking around moaning and groaning about some woman who does not requite Romeo’s love. Romeo is in an UNHEALTHY state of mind. Mercutio is trying to cheer his friend up. ROMEO is the one with the problem, not Mercutio. The sort of hyperbole that Mercutio uses is used by people all the time. “Screw that asshole, let’s go get some drinks.”

Let’s be totally clear. What Romeo feels for Rosaline is an infatuation. It vanishes immediately when he sees Juliet. It is not a deep, meaningful love. And THIS is the love that Mercutio rails against. Also, let’s not forget that Romeo says that Rosaline will not “ope her lap to saint-seducing gold.” I don’t think there’s any way to know whether someone will have sex with you for money unless you ask them. So what about Romeo’s misogyny? Where is that in all of the literature?

Stanley Wells says in Shakespeare, Sex & Love that Mercutio is killed because he becomes dramatically unnecessary. I agree. But I disagree about the reason. Wells suggests that Mercutio represents an immature attachment which Romeo no longer needs because Romeo has finally found a mature love. I think Mercutio becomes unnecessary because Romeo is no longer lovesick. Romeo doesn’t need someone to try to get him into a healthier frame of mind once he gets there himself. The mere fact that he effectively trades one relationship for another does not mean that they both must be romantic.

Often, when I work on a role, I find a passage (or a few) that I think sum up the character. I think Mercutio’s intention is all summed up in this passage:

Why, is not this better now than groaning for love?

now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art
thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature.

I walked into Romeo and Juliet rehearsal trying to figure out a way to make the Queen Mab speech more interesting. The speech is problematic to me, because it doesn’t advance the story in any way, nor does it tell us much about Mercutio or anyone else in the play (except that Mercutio loves to hear himself speak). But while I’m going to be saying all of this stuff about fairies riding through lovers’ brains at night, there are going to be two other actors stranded onstage with me. My idea was to have a lot of physical interaction between us, sort of a stand-sit-lean kind of deal.  I wasn’t sure it would work, but I really wanted to try to find a way to share that speech with the guys playing Benvolio and Romeo. But, that all took a turn.

The director of this production believes that the text indicates that there is homoerotic tension between Mercutio and Romeo, so he asked me to try that. It pretty much puts the kibosh on what I had in mind. If I’m playing that sort of intention, I’m mostly directing my attention at the object of my desire, which leaves poor Benvolio with not much to do but wait for me to shut up (which actually might be a good motivation for him, I suppose).

I struggled with this subtext. So far, I don’t feel it’s something that’s clearly there. It’s my opinion that this idea is a revisionist reading that imports a 20^th century view of sexuality into an Elizabethan text. I explored the same type of arguments with respect to colonialism when I was working on The Tempest.

But then I stumbled on something that I think is much more interesting, and ultimately, gets me to the same place anyway.  In The Shakespeare Wars, Ron Rosenbaum compares Mercutio to Marlowe. Rosenbaum observes that while it has been said that Shakespeare had to kill Mercutio, or Mercutio would kill Shakespeare, the same is also true of Marlowe. Harold Bloom notes in Shakespeare: The Invention of the Human that, in writing Titus Andronicus, Shakespeare finally wrote himself out of Marlowe’s shadow, by putting words in Aaron the Moor’s mouth that were like a speech by Barabas from The Jew of Malta on steroids. What if, once Shakespeare no longer felt overshadowed by Marlowe, he felt free to include a little tribute to him in a play?

The similarities between Marlowe and Mercutio are obvious.  Both are larger-than-life characters with quick wits who love to ramble (the Queen Mab speech is positively Marlovian, in my opinion). Both are ultimately self-destructive. Both die in a knife fight under dubious circumstances, and both die with a curse on their lips. There’s some textual basis to think that Mercutio may have been a nod to Marlowe, as well, although it’s all speculation. Mercutio compares Romeo’s love to Dido, to Helen, and to Hero – all characters Marlowe wrote about.

And of course, there’s the famous quote attributed to Marlowe: “All they that love not tobacco and boys are fools.” Now, the actual evidence supporting this statement may be dodgy, and it seems pretty clear that Marlowe loved to shock people, so it would have been in character for him to say such a thing even if he didn’t mean it. Still, it does raise an ambiguity. And that ambiguity is just enough, I think, to make me feel okay with what I view as importing something into the text that may not be there.

Relationships

I noticed something last night at rehearsal. I've been thinking about Mercutio's relationships with Benvolio and Romeo. How is Mercutio thought of in Verona? What's his status? Last night, I found a clue. Capulet writes a guest list for the party at which the young lovers first meet. And on that list, Mercutio is listed before any of Capulet's relatives, including Tybalt (who is apparently the LAST relative listed).

Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;
County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady
widow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovely
nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine
uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece
Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin
Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.

Out of all the people on the list, Mercutio is the first one who appears elsewhere in the play. Tybalt is the last. This doesn't help much with respect to Benvolio and Romeo, but it does strongly suggest that Mercutio is seen in Verona as more than just a brawler and a rake. He's respected enough to be invited to the best parties, and not as an afterthought. And that, in turn, suggests that Benvolio and Romeo don't merely tolerate him, but that they probably have some degree of actual respect for him. How that's possible, given what we see of Mercutio, I haven't figured out yet.