COVID-19: We Aren't Gathered Here Together

Last weekend it was Easter. I am a 'wishy-washy Anglican' (not actually my words, but I have been called thus) and only really attend Church at the major religious festivals - Christmas, Easter and Whitsun being the big dates in my calendar. Of course, this year I could not go to Church - no one can - and I missed it. I missed singing the songs and saying the prayers; I missed turning to my fellow members of the congregation and wishing them peace and good will. And I missed them doing the same for me. I missed that communal feeling.

For the same reason, I love watching sports and theatre; I enjoy a shared experience. Knowing that you feel the same thing as others is a wonderful thing. When I breathe in the hallowed turf of Anfield, it is a spiritual moment; all the home players and supporters know what I mean - we stand and sing together and no one cares how out of tune we are; we are in time. Our time. Any true fan will tell you the same (although they will worship at a different shrine). 

When the curtain raises on the stage and everyone takes a collective breath, we are all waiting to see what unfolds together. This moment will never be repeated - every performance is different - and we know we are privileged to witness it. And when the curtain falls and people applaud, they do it together. I have been part of a cast that received a standing ovation. It was magical and unforgettable. We did it for the audience and the audience appreciated us; and we were one. It was incredible.

I like listening to a band, but I prefer going to a gig or a festival. I don't need to then hear this gig again; I'm not a fan of live albums because generally the sound quality isn't as good, and the whole point is the being there. I am pleased the National Theatre, The Globe and the RSC are screening some of their performances so we can all enjoy things that we couldn't otherwise see - but we are still watching them alone. The roar of the greasepaint and the smell of the crowd is missing. (Yes, that was deliberate.)

'Queen Elizabeth viewing the performance of The Merry Wives of Windsor, at the Globe in Merrie England' by David Scott

I like a drink as much as the next person. But there's a reason I go to pubs and clubs, even if the beer is often ridiculously overpriced. I like the atmosphere of sharing things with like-minded folk. Restaurants and cafes are better when they're busy (not cramped and heaving full, but with a low-level hum of noise). Silence is good when it is shared. Have you had a moment's silence in public? Then you know what I mean: there is nothing more moving than a collective memorial. 

Over the last few weeks I have held many on-line conversations and 'attended' conferences and meetings; I have done group trivia quizzes and play readings; I have watched re-runs of football matches and 'live' theatre. But I have missed the physicality. I will stay at home, and I will practice the physical distancing, because it saves lives and that's what matters. But when all this is over, I will find my flock and I will join them again, and we will sing our songs. 

Because it may be elitist; it may be exclusive; but being there is everything.

Quote for Today: Living art

The Globe Theatre

"Theatre focuses on the importance of the moment. No matter how many times they have repeated a play, in each performance, the players strive to create the illusion of freshness, to play their roles in such a way that their characters appear to be encountering these situations, doing these actions, and saying these words for the first time. Furthermore, since the composition of the audience (one-half of the performer-spectator relationship) changes from night to night, each performance differs subtly from every other performance; when you watch a play, you participate in a one-of-a-kind, unrepeatable art work." From Theatre: The Now-Art with a Past by Norman A. Bert

Quote for Today: Reheasal Space

We had a technical rehearsal today for Alan Ayckbourn's Improbable Fiction, that I am performing in for Canberra Repertory Theatre. Technical rehearsals are always long and usually tedious, but totally necessary. We got through today's quite well, and, as far as I know, without too much major incident.

Dominic Dromgoole has some sage words about rehearsal rooms, although clearly he has never worked in Queenstown.

“For some, it’s a seminar room (the deadliest); for some a party (the most fun, with the most variable results); for some it’s a therapy session (avoid like the bubonic plague); and for many it’s a knocking shop (be selective). But for the best it is often a temple. Something special and magical takes place in there, and the air around it has to be carefully looked after to ensure anything is possible. This doesn’t mean everyone prays or takes off their shoes and pads around with Peter Brookish Obi-Wan faux religiosity. It means you treat it with respect and humility. And you don’t allow kids in.” - Will and Me: How Shakespeare Took Over My Life by Dominic Dromgoole, artistic director of the Globe Theatre.

Our Man in London: All's Well That Ends Well

All’s Well That Ends Well at The Globe, London

First trip to The Globe of the year and probably not an obvious choice of play to go and see. All’s Well seems to be viewed as one of Shakespeare’s ‘problem plays’, but I am not sure I see the problem in the same way as I am meant to. The problem is meant to be that the main characters are a flawed bunch. While I agree that they are, another problem is the story. Some bits just don’t add up. Why would Diana give that lengthy performance in front of the King of France at the end and end up with being threatened with being thrown in jail? Is Bertram really so dim that he did not realise that the ring he is given was the one worn by Helena? How come he did not realise that the Italian he was in bed with had suddenly developed a French accent?

Putting aside my pedantry for a moment, this was a great performance. The only bad review I could find of it in the London press was from the Daily Telegraph. To me that means it is worth seeing, although worryingly the Daily Mail gave it a good review. I had no idea who any of the actors were in it, even though I should apparently know of Janie Dee who plays the Countess of Rousillon. I always think you are on safe ground with UK actors if you say you have seen them in The Bill or Casualty and move the conversation quickly on.

To me the star of the show was James Garnon’s Parolles. But with such great lines to deliver and playing the buffoon it’s probably hard to mess it up. Ellie Piercy as Helena was also great despite one reviewer calling her dull and drab. I might be biased though because I think I have a crush on her. I did have a bit of a problem with Sam Crane as Bertram. He looks very young and a bit like the Tory Chancellor George Osborne. Plus he was being very rude about the lovely Helena. I was tempted to ask him outside at one point but decided I would see him afterwards.

I feel a bit metrosexual about this next point but think I am going to make it anyway. The costumes were stunning. Usually when I watch Shakespeare acted out in Jacobean costumes, they are par for the course and unremarkable, but there really was something stunning about these ones. I could quite happily prance about in the King of France’s togs but doubt I would make it to the end of my street in one piece.

That’s all for now, I have a train to catch and work to pretend to do. Next up is Merchant of Venice at the revamped RSC theatre in Stratford.

Adieu... from Our Man in London

Fantastic Falstaff

Congratulations to Roger Allam, who won the Best Actor Olivier Award 2011 for his portrayal of Falstaff in the Dominic-Dromgoole-directed Henry IV Parts 1 and 2.

Of course, the fact that I saw these shows at the Globe Theatre when I was home in England last year makes me especially happy. Although I knew they were excellent at the time, it never does any harm to have that opinion validated by so-called experts.

I feel honoured to have been able to see such great work, which was both thought-provoking and thoroughly enjoyable. I still think of it six months later and crave the opportunity to see such stirling theatre on a regular basis.

The Globe Theatre: The stage is all the world

The original Globe Theatre burnt to the ground in two hours in 1639 during a production of Henry VIII, when a spark from a real cannon caught the thatched roof. It was director Sam Wannamaker’s idea to recreate the theatre and he used a number of influential patrons and innovative initiatives (36,000 red bricks at a cost of £5 each were sold as fundraisers) to realise his dream.

The theatre is built to be as an exact replica as possible, based on written and visual sources (which also inform our knowledge of the behaviour and activities of theatregoers). The twenty-sided building is made out of 1,000 oak trees, held together with wooden pegs. The pillars on stage are also oak, painted to look like fake marble, and the thatched roof is the first in London since the Great Fire (thatched roofs were banned in 1666).

External gates feature 125 flora and fauna from Shakespeare’s plays while affording great glimpses of modern and ancient London. By rights the floor should be crushed hazelnut shells, cinder and ash to complete the authenticity, but this would be too uncomfortable. You can, however, still purchase food, wine and cushions to enhance your appreciation of the play.

The courtyard is open to the elements so punters will get wet or sunstroke depending on the weather (I saw a standing audience member faint from the heat, but that probably wasn’t too typical for London). The groundlings can still stand for £5, which is an amazing bargain. The stage is so close to the audience that the actors can see individual faces (there is minimal lighting used in keeping with the original atmosphere), which can be quite daunting to some. Four doors on the lower level facilitate entrances and exits, and the actors often walk among the crowds.

3,000 people used to pack into the theatre, although concerns for modern health and safety legislation (not to mention personal space) now stipulate that it holds a maximum of 1,500. No microphones are used either, although there are live musicians – the shape of the building provides excellent acoustics. While the shape of the stage can change for an individual production (using walkways, thrusts and a central platform), wall hangings are preferred to a fixed set – the setting is in the text; it is up to the audience to listen and use their imagination.

Theatrical convention meant that Heaven was above and Hell below (a trapdoor enables actors to descend and emerge) and the stage itself is meant to represent Earth. The tiring house behind the stage wall is the area where the actors got dressed (or put on their attire); the boxes were gentlemen’s rooms; the musicians’ galleries were immediately above the stage (and still are); whereas other galleries here were the Lord’s rooms – they could hear but not see the action, although they were mainly designed for them to show off their finery. Fifteen plays were written specifically to be performed at The Globe, with all its trappings and theatrical devices in mind.

The Globe had to be outside the city walls to conform to the laws of the Puritans. The locale was full of playhouses, brothels, taverns, bear-baiting, cockfighting, pleasure gardens, prisons, and inns, creating an interesting mix of culture, art, vice and dissipation. Shakespeare used many of these types, to populate his plays with credible characters. London Bridge was the only bridge across the Thames (which was three times as wide) in those days. To signal to theatregoers that a show was imminent, a flag would be raised that could be seen from the other side of the river. The performances began at 2pm and lasted for two hours with no interval; they spoke faster then as the audience were used to the style of speech.

Now actors at the Globe are contracted for 3-6 months. At least four Shakespeare plays are produced per season and new writing is welcomed. This is the ultimate venue for seeing a traditional Shakespeare play and getting a feel for the bard as he would have been performed. Alternative twists are also introduced; plays would have been all-male productions so it is no surprise that recent performances have included men-only versions of Antony and Cleopatra and Twelfth Night, although the all-female performance of Richard III would have been interesting!

Be Merry, My Friends, Be Merry

The Merry Wives of Windsor
Shakespeare's Globe Theatre
August - October 2010

The Merry Wives of Windsor rounds out the trio of ‘Falstaff plays’. Whether or not it is true that Queen Elizabeth I commissioned the play because she wanted to see ‘the fat knight in love’ is a moot point (not least because he never is actually in love, apart from with himself and his own advancement) but the tone is certainly lighter than the previous two parts of Henry IV.

It may best be described as a mixture between an early rom-com and a blatant farce, with a main plot and another couple of subplots both hindering and enhancing the action. Running out of money, Sir John Falstaff (Christopher Benjamin) attempts to win the affection of a wealthy mistress and sends identical letters to Mistress Ford (Sarah Woodward) and Mistress Page (Serena Evans) with the intention of seducing them into bed and out of their fortunes. When they discover his plan they easily outwit him, pretending to go along with his adulterous intentions only for him to be ‘discovered’ unless he escapes in humiliating ways (hidden in a laundry basket and subsequently dumped in The Thames or disguised as the witch of Brentford who is soundly beaten by her enemies).

Page and Ford react very differently to the news that someone is trying to court their wife. Page (Michael Garner) is trusting enough to dismiss the rumours, while Ford (Andrew Havill) works himself into a jealous rage, with moments of impotent anger taken straight from the Basil Fawlty acting book. Added to this is the delectable and dimpled Anne Page (Ceri-Lyn Cissone) with a couple of unsuitable suitors (Slender and Doctor Caius) and one true love (Fenton). Slender (William Belchambers) is delightfully effeminate and her father’s choice; Dr Caius (Philip Bird) is outrageously French and her mother’s choice; Fenton (Gerard McCarthy) is charming, handsome and the obvious choice; and Mistress Quickly (Sue Wallace) is the meddling wench who tries to ‘help’ them all.

Falstaff thinks he is irresistible to women despite the fact that he is grotesquely overweight and old – somehow Benjamin’s embodiment of this and his descriptions of his humiliations make him warm and loveable rather than arrogant and offensive. He is also somewhat diminished by Mistresses Ford and Page who prove to be more than a match for him. Woodward and Evans are both excellent in their distinction between acting and overacting when they are ‘caught out’ in the presence of the would-be Lothario. Their girlish scheming is a joy to watch and their daring antics could teach those whey-faced desperate housewives a thing or two.

This is a brilliant play for sharing with the audience; we are in on the joke as in the best cases of farce and dramatic irony. The stage (design by Janet Bird) is set with a walkway through the crowd which turns into a forest where Falstaff faces his final persecution, or an attractive suburban garden complete with picket fence and love seat – audience members must dodge to avoid a soaking from the watering can. Sue Wallace sits boldly on the steps and chats with the theatregoers which reminds me I know her as Auntie Pam from Coronation Street.

Physical comedy is to the fore and there are guffaws rather than titters, although the double entendres cause a few giggles. Much has been made of the fact that this play was almost written for television a good three hundred years before that device was invented. It is big and bold and very beautiful with Tudor costumes and themes – no attempt has been made to place it in another context which only adds to its strength. The music underpins the entire production as the musicians perform their curious instruments on stage, adding comic value, heightening the melodrama or providing a sweet accompaniment to the duet between Anne Page and Fenton – bless their hearts.

It’s not subtle or deep – it doesn’t explore the human condition – but it doesn’t pretend to. It intends to entertain and in this it certainly achieves its intention. It’s easy to follow, the themes are familiar and you don’t have to think too much. This is Shakespeare for beginners, performed and directed by consummate professionals.

Henry IV, Part Two: Uneasy Lies the Head that Wears the Crown

Henry IV, Part Two

Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre
July 3 – October 3, 2010

‘Does anyone ever do Henry IV, Part Two by itself?’ asks my dad after we emerge from Dominic Dromgoole’s most excellent sequel at The Globe. Probably not, because although it is a superlative historical drama, it follows on from Part One too comfortably to stand alone.

Prince Hal (Jamie Parker) is still unsure where he fits in life; like Prince Charles, his job is to wait for his monarch-parent to die. The moment when Hal thinks this has happened is shockingly powerful and moving as he has the temerity to touch the crown, only to then stand silent and chastised as his father (Oliver Cotton) remonstrates with him.

Falstaff (Roger Allam) is still a powerful coward full of bombast and bravado. Age and the law are catching up with him, however, and he is slightly more contemplative as he realises he has no true friends and may have only a lonely dotage ahead of him. He tries to shrug off such reflections with cheap tricks and ale but the merry-making seems forced. We understand why actors relish the role of Falstaff and why he is the only one of Shakespeare’s characters to get his own spin-off play, but also when Hal and his ‘shadow’ Poins (Danny Lee Wynter) tire of him, it is easier to share their disillusionment than in Part One.

The tavern scenes are exquisitely executed, from the distressed Mistress Quickly (Barbara Marten) who is simply trying to make a profit and avoid ‘swaggerers’ while her husband nonchalantly smokes his pipe on the balcony, to the vigorous slapstick humour of Doll Tearsheet (Jade Williams). She proves adept at physical comedy as she hurls herself (in more ways than one) across the stage –let’s just say the groundlings at the front get slightly more than they bargained for.

There are yet more politics and manoeuvres in this second part of the trilogy and they continue to be expressed with intelligence and clarity. A particularly Machiavellian piece of skulduggery reveals Hal’s younger brother John of Lancaster (Joseph Timms) in a not-entirely-honourable light. He is steadfast and practical, however, and more like a stereotypical older brother who gets the job done without any of Hal’s shenanigans, of which he clearly disaproves.

William Gaunt is quite brilliant as the doddering old Shallow bringing humour to what could otherwise be quite tedious scenes of choosing soldiers, and providing such much-needed lightness as the tone darkens. He is delightfully shambolic and his double act with Silence played by Christopher Godwin is the best I’ve seen since Morecambe and Wise.

With the death of his father, Prince Hal becomes King Henry V and his return to the stage (he is absent for three-quarters of the play) makes it shine anew. Although he claims, ‘This new and gorgeous garment, majesty/ Sits not so easy on me as you think’, he does in fact assume the mantle with aplomb. And when he rejects Falstaff at the conclusion, we are not as sad as we might be because we know it would be disastrous if, as the dissolute knight has boasted, ‘the laws of England are at my commandement’.

The new king reveals a glimpse of the old playboy when he promises he will reward Falstaff and his companions with advancement, but assures them it will only be ‘as we hear you do reform yourselves’ and not purely through nepotism. Already he is proving to be an adherent to fairness and justice – the audience can once again leave on a high knowing the (past) future of England is in good hands.

Henry IV, Part One: Buzzing on the Banks of the Thames

Henry IV, Part One

Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre
July 8 – October 3, 2010

Dominic Dromgoole’s production of Henry IV, Part One at The Globe is sensitive and rambunctious; traditional and contemporary; and overall compelling viewing. It ranges from royalty to riff-raff; battlefields to brothels; city to countryside and high politics to low humour, and all of it is immensely entertaining.

The play examines the troubled relationship between sons and their fathers (both real and surrogate), and the nature of friendship as it alters with power, responsibility and age. Prince Hal has diametrically opposed father-figures, although he eventually rejects both of them, ‘breaking through the foul and ugly mists’ to emerge blazing as his own man.

I’ve always thought the part of Henry IV was a bit ineffective but Oliver Cotton delivers his conscience-wrestling quandary with dignity, sincerity and a great command of the language. On the other hand, there is the irrepressible Roger Allam as Falstaff. Falstaff is an unashamed scene stealer, milking every nuance to just the right extent, working his audience like a stand-up comedian so that we feel part of the show. He is morally reprehensible with a terrible attitude to life and impeccable comic timing. Whether he is exaggerating his part in a duel or delivering an in-depth and unfavourable analysis of honour – musing on philosophy as he casually devours a tub of ice-cream – he is a joy to witness.

The fact that Allam doesn’t dominate the entire play, however, is due to the comprehensive direction and the brilliance of the other characters. Jamie Parker has made me fall in love with Prince Hal and Henry IV, Part One all over again. From the moment he emerges from a trapdoor with his pants around his ankles and a twinkle in his eye, his conflict of self-interest is fantastic. The trading of insults with Falstaff is sublime: if only pub slanging matches were so witty. Hal maintains his irreverent sense of fun even as he matures before our eyes through the course of the play.

He can be noble and resolute and not afraid to shirk responsibility when it falls upon him. He knows what will be expected of him, and is itching to get down to the job. He mocks his father when he imitates him in a pub, but he defends him bravely in battle and foreshadows his steely rejection of Falstaff, ‘like bright metal on sullen ground’. The opposing natures of the young prince are both excellently explored. Will the real Prince Hal please stand up? I desperately want him to play Henry V – I’d follow him into a breach any time.

Hal also has to contend with Harry (Hotspur) Percy as a model of valour. Sam Crane indulges his fiery nature to provoke humour but also respect. He may be all-too prepared to fight for his beliefs, but at least he has some. Glendower (Sean Kearns) tries to restrain him with a steady hand and a mellifluous voice, but Hotspur remains tempestuous. He may be heated in battle, but lacks passion in his domestic relationships, much to the frustrated chagrin of his wife, Kate (Lorna Stuart). She behaves a little as though she is auditioning for The X-Factor and is too focussed on herself to interact with the others, although once again, you can hear every word that she intones.

The play (and its sequel) contain a good deal of principles and affairs of state, but the scenes are acted so well and spoken so clearly that you are never lost in the potential mire that could be English ‘War of the Roses’ history. Politics are given edge (literally) in sword fights and tavern scenes. The set, designed by Jonathan Fensom, incorporates rustic qualities as minimal touches elicit maximum effect. Heraldic banners hang from all the banisters and a simple backcloth unfurls to denote our locations, from the Boar’s Head tavern to the battle encampment or the King’s bedchamber. It is a delight and an honour to experience this production in its spiritual home.

It may be a traditional production in period dress but don’t be fooled into thinking it is sedate. It is infused with high energy from the riotous mummers’ performance at the beginning to the sardonic dance at the end which sends the audience out buzzing to the banks of the Thames. Music and singing enhances the play throughout with musicians augmenting the slick scene changes to ensure the action never flags.