Posts tagged with “theatre”

Posted 6 months ago

[A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Shakespeare’s Globe, 2013; Matthew Tennyson as Puck, John Light as Oberon]

The Globe’s 2013 Dream is the gayest production of the play I’ve ever seen - and I mean this as a great compliment, because it was excellent to see how certain directorial choices acted as a counterpoint to the text’s ostensible celebration of heterosexual marriage and straight teenage love-lunacy. The queer subtext got a proper airing out of the closet, and made the show feel all the fresher for it. 

The costumes were gorgeous - think Elizabethan courtly love meets sylvan erotica - and the spirit world was peopled by beasts and creatures of the woods - all tusks and hooves, feathers and hair, soil and suede - as far removed from the light and glittery fairies of Victorian imagination as Sendak’s Wild Things. Magic here was pagan rumpus: powerful, rooted in nature and dangerous.

It was a very unusual Dream also in the fact that last night was the first serious bout of autumn weather after our prolonged Indian summer. It was COLD. (An Oberon strongly reminiscent of Khal Drogo did heat things up a little.) As ever, the open air nature of the Globe has tremendous powers over the perception of the play. The chill in the air highlighted all the references to darkness, storms, and climate change in Titania’s speech: trouble in faerieland brings chaos to the mortals’ planet. Once peace is made between the faerie Queen and King, nature is restored: the wind blows strong, the sky goes dark, the nights grow cold. Summer bids farewell… and winter is coming. 

Posted 8 months ago
Jobs are vital because they put bread on the table, but they are also vital because they give you purpose and they give you an identity. If you were to pay every person who was unemployed and give them a regular wage for doing nothing, that still wouldn’t solve the psychological problem of unemployment which is you’d still have no sense of purpose or identity or individuality.
Posted 11 months ago

Vsevolod Meyerhold preparing for his role as Konstantin in Chekhov’s The Seagull (via Idea | The Seagull’s Two Premieres | Headlong)

Posted 11 months ago
Art, especially the theatre, is a realm you cannot enter without the odd stumble. There are still many more days of failure ahead, whole seasons of failure, things will go terribly wrong, you will have huge disappointments, but you have to be prepared for that, you have to expect it and be resolute and follow your own path.
Anton Chekhov, letter to Olga Knipper
Posted 1 year ago
I have never believed in a single truth. Neither my own, nor those of others. I believe all schools, all theories can be useful in some place, at some time. But I have discovered that one can only live by a passionate, and absolute, identification with a point of view.
However, as time goes by, as we change, as the world changes, targets alter and the viewpoint shifts. Looking back over many years of essays written, ideas spoken in many places on so many varied occasions, one thing strikes me as being consistent. For a point of view to be of any use at all one must commit oneself totally to it, one must defend it to the very death. Yet, at the same time, there is an inner voice that murmurs: “Don’t take it too seriously. Hold on tight, let go lightly.”

Peter Brook, The Shifting Point

These words were once pinned to the cork pinboard in front of my working desk. I had completely forgotten how much this resonated with my entire worldview back then, and how much, for me, this is and has always been accurate and true. Of course. Of course. Of course the answer to the seismic shifts in my life was going to come from the theatre. Of course it is all coming back to me now. Now that everything is shifting around me once again, now that I realise that maybe I have been doing it wrong, maybe striving for stillness in a shifting world is the wrong strategy. Now is the time to let go lightly, so that I can continue to hold on tight. 

Posted 1 year ago

Mark Rylance (Olivia) and Stephen Fry (Malvolio) in Twelfth Night, dir. Tim Carroll at Shakespeare’s Globe, London 2012 (photo by Simon Annand)

For the rain it raineth every day 

I have spent more time at the Globe theatre watching plays (and later volunteering and freelancing) than is reasonable. I first visited the theatre in 1996, and saw the opening production of Henry V the following year. On that fateful August day, Mark Rylance walked on stage, recited the play’s opening lines (O for a muse of fire that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention), and kicked open a door somewhere inside me I didn’t even know existed. That open door led me to some strange countries, not unlike Illyria - an oxymoronic land of merriment and Puritanical condemnation, of mistaken identities and willful pretence, of cruel jokes and harmless witty foolery. A place where people fall desperately in love at first sight, or long for lovers they cannot have.

I watched theatre nearly seven days a week, for years. I moved to England, went to drama school, directed plays. I worked and lived in and for the theatre. Then something broke. I became frustrated with career options that offered hard labour but little reward. I turned bitter, critical and exhausted; there was no more joy in it for me. I remember reading a line in a Lorca play that hit me right on the head: you have to destroy the theatre or live in the theatre! It’s not fair to boo from backstage! I don’t how I ended up there, but there I was: booing from backstage. So I opted out, cut theatre out of my life. I went to the cinema. After a while I fell in love again - this time with an equally thrilling, rich and challenging art, but one that is at the same time safer, more distant: nobody looks back at you, nobody can touch you from a silver screen.

Last night I went to see Twelfth Night at the Globe. It’s a production I have seen many times before, because it was originally performed by the Globe company at Middle Temple Hall in February 2002 on the 400th anniversary of the play, and later transferred to the Globe for the summer season that year. Mark Rylance reprised his hilarious, intense Olivia; Paul Chahidi was again a perfectly savvy Maria, and Liam Brennan a muscular yet refined Orsino. New cast member Stephen Fry (!) played Malvolio – the most sympathetic and believable Malvolio I’ve ever seen, a joy to behold. Johnny Flynn and Sam Barnett were (impressively similar-looking) Viola and Sebastian: both eloquent, sensitive, courageous survivors. And my favourite actor from the original cast, Peter Hamilton Dyer, returned as Feste (make no mistake: Feste is the core of the play; with his tenor voice and sharp sense of humour PHD was born to play this part).

This new cast is extremely well-balanced, and all parts are fully characterised through costume and smart, inventive performative touches that feel really grounded in the world of the play. The minimal but effective direction allows each cast member to play his part to the full, using the beautiful setting of the Globe-turned-Elizabethan-mansion, as well as the very lively audience, as a perfect foil for jokes and confessions, really drawing on the energy of the live, open air experience so essential to the magic that the Globe can create.

Globe productions can incorporate so many external agents into their ebb and flow - weather, accidents, audience response - and the best Globe shows are organic, sensory events. In Shakespeare’s times people spoke of ‘hearing’ a play rather than ‘seeing’ it, and while great attention was paid to visual comedy (for example in the scene where a confused Orsino realises he feels attracted to Cesario/Viola and, transported by the music, nearly kisses him - observed by a watchful Feste), this show is primarily an extraordinary aural experience. The combination of the text being spoken so clearly and accurately that every word makes sense, and an inspired use of music to accompany so many scenes (and pre-show, interval, final jig and curtain call), creates a world of sounds and sighs – breath made song for the purpose of laughter, lament, and nourishment alike (If music be the food of love, play on is, after all, the opening line of the play).

It is a production full of fun and joy – the physical joy of beautifully ornate language being articulated for the pleasure of our own ears and hearts, of gorgeous garments that swish and flutter as characters move (Orsino does wear changeable taffeta!), of bodily enjoyment in dance, love, drink and food – the purest joys there are. It may not be the darkest, most sophisticated interpretation of the play, but for me it was simply the definitive production my favourite Shakespeare comedy.

I can’t remember where I read something that Mark Rylance said about Olivia being like a country that’s moving from winter to spring thanks to the experience of love. Last night under a pouring, cold autumn rain, something inside me thawed. Like the last piece of wood on the fire after a long, merry evening drawing to its melancholy end, it warmed me up and reminded me why I loved the theatre. And why you can’t forget your first love, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how far away from it you travel.

Posted 1 year ago

side-of-the-angels:

Richard III at The Globe

Been skeptical about Mark Rylance’s return to the Globe for months years, and now I can’t wait to see this.

Posted 1 year ago

I saw a great production of Antigone at the National Theatre last night, starring  Christopher Eccleston as Creon and Jodi Whittaker as Antigone.

The post-9/11 setting was clearly inspired by contemporary political cabinets and military offices, and the chorus consisted of civil servants, soldiers and journalists. At the beginning of the show Creon and his generals assembled around a TV set to watch the Theban war, replicating the famous image of Obama & co watching the attack on Bin Laden’s compound in the Situation Room.

As a whole, the show was really tight: the sharp direction created a fast, heightened pace, going straight to the play’s tough moral core without unnecessary melodrama. I guess we can safely say that director Polly Findlay (whose work I’d so enjoyed in the NT’s Paintframe double bills last year) is no longer up and coming: she’s well and truly landed.

Eccleston was extraordinary - articulate, humorous and totally compelling. His Creon was a man possessed with the righteousness of power, a Blairite fixation on the conviction that law must be enforced always and without mercy. His unwavering devotion to principle caused not only personal tragedy, but also the total trashing of justice; the final catharsis when he realised his great failure as a leader was thus all the more crushing. I really hope to see him do more stage work. He’d make a perfect Angelo in Measure for Measure.

(I sometimes miss the theatre so much. It’s so nice that after years when I couldn’t bear to walk into the dark space I now find it thrilling again.)

[photo via]

Posted 1 year ago

With the help of antibiotics and vitamins I finally feel well enough to go out today. Which is great because we have tickets for the Maori Troilus & Cressida at the Globe. (You’ll want to click that link to see a beautiful haka.)

This is the first show in the Globe 2 Globe Festival, which will see Shakespeare’s thirty-seven plays performed in thirty-seven languages (including British sign language, Macedonian, Gujarati, Palestinian Arabic). Sometimes living in London can’t be beaten.

Posted 2 years ago

Fußgänger

My little brother is on tumblr! You can follow his adventures as a theatre director/PhD student of German theatre in Berlin here