You have a few professors from your high school days whose names you still remember. I have mine. Dick Dauphinee taught me to love the English language, and John Youngblood taught me to love Shakespeare. Through their conjoined efforts over what could have been a dreary two years from sophomore to junior year, I was made into a fan of Shakespeare. Nothing in the intervening years has shaken me from that position.
Eldest Daughter soon decamps, and had asked that we spend a night together in joyful contemplation of that fact. A night of theater at the Old Globe was recommended, and the Bard’s Twelfth Night suited our schedule. In the event, other priorities emerged for our soon to be absent daughter but the Hobbit saw fit to accompany me nevertheless. Excellent seats having been purchased, and it would have been a sin to waste them.
It’s a wonderful venue, stout brown oak beneath the stars, amenable to nearly every performance. Blankets free of charge to keep off the falling damps. The company of those who love the spectacle. Even young people, the kind that give you faith that the important things may yet endure. But the play’s the thing.
The plot itself might almost seem trivial: Viola gets cast ashore by the intervention of fate. Her ship battered to bits, and separated from her beloved brother, she finds herself in a foreign land. To protect her virtue she passes herself off as a man, attending to the Count Orsino. Bidden to present the tokens of her master’s love for one Countess Olivia – herself cast in darkness by the death of a beloved brother – she finds herself entranced by the count and bewitching the countess. Wise fools and foolish wise men. Ordinary stuff.
A wretched series of cliche twists perhaps in the 21st century. But it’s been playing for nearly 400 years, and it might be that other playwrights have taken a leaf out of Shakespeare’s notebook. This renders the material familiar, but never stale.
Loving the language the Bard created I knew that I would love the thing, however imperfectly consummated. The Hobbit is a sterner judge. We both found ourselves exceptionally well pleased.
Linda Cho set the costuming in 1950s style, and the whole thing worked inordinately well. The men are swells, the ladies unselfconsciously voluptuous. And the sheer physicality of the actors’ efforts bore the bell away , they seem genuinely pleased to play their parts. Dana Green was note perfect as Viola/Cesarino. Gerritt Vandermeer begins a perfectly insipid Count Orsino before growing into his depth as Viola’s swain. Katie MacNichol becomes a 16th century cougar brought forward in the person of Olivia, entranced by Green’s Cesarino until her brother – earnest Kevin Hoffmann playing the role of Sebastian – returns from the sea unlooked for. Patrick Page – playing Malvolio – must have kept a stock of lemons just off stage to bite on. Eric Hoffman and Bruce Turk enthusiastically play out dissipated nobles in the characters of Sir Toby Belch and Sir Andrew Aguecheek. James Newcomb brings us all into the joke as the joker Feste. Aubrey Saverino threatened to steal the show in her exuberant depiction of Maria, handmaid to Olivia. It was all magical.
It lasted two hours and forty-five minutes, and was over in an instant. During the intermission, the Hobbit and I talked about what Shakespeare himself would have thought to find his play played thus.
I think he would have been greatly amused, concessions made to our mangling accents. I know I was.
Sounds wonderful. The 12th Night was the first play I saw (and my first Shakespeare, of course), on a high school senior English class trip to the Old Globe. I can’t say I understood all the subtleties, as so much as my time was spent internally translating, but I was certainly hooked. The hook was sunk deeper as we later enjoy a very strict (largely unstaged) video-taped performance of MacBeth by the Royal Shakespeare Company, and later discovered the Sonnets.
I’ve loved Shakespeare ever since, but I don’t think I’ve never allowed myself to be completely absorbed, dipping only a toe from time to time. Perhaps that is because I fear if I plunged in and reveled in it I’d never come back for air… Then again, perhaps that is why it is best shared.
Oh, one more thing…
That was exactly how I felt about it. It’s a great play, especially if you don’t now the story going in.
[kindly forgive the typos and poor constructions in that first comment]
Sounds wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.
My two favorite Shakespeare experiences were seeing Twelfth Night in England, in an outdoor theater on a chalk cliff above the channel in Eastbourne at sunset–we went a few days after my father-in-law’s funeral. Himself had been a great fan of the Bard, and I suggested the outing to his bereaved widown and son. They were skeptical, but the magic of the setting and the play itself convinced all who went that dear Ron must have suggested the idea himself. We left feeling affirmed and ready to celebrate the love, joy and silliness he had given each of us in life.
My daughter, watching Romeo + Juliet the movie gave me the second…she was nearly 11 and becoming cynical in the ways of the world. She didn’t know the story…as the inevitable conclusion drew near, and the stupidity of bad timing and miscommunication became clear, she yelled urgently to Romeo, “don’t do it…she’s alive!” And I thought, 400 years of a continuous run, with the end always the same, this play can still inspire hope that it will somehow come out differently…and I wonder how many writers today are brave enough to write such an ending.
Thanks for sharing…I don’t really know the scholarship well that argues over whether Shakespeare was an individual or a conglomerate…none of the people suggested as alternatives have demonstrated to me any of the depth of understanding of the human spirit, in all its dimensions, as Shakespeare’s plays do…I’m comfortable with the notion that one brilliant commoner made our English language one worth hearing, no matter what the accents that speak it.
I have always greatly enjoyed the Big Bad Bard, my personal favorite being MacBeth. The man could put quill to paper, there is no doubt about that.
Roger Creed (English)
Chris Bowen (Physics)
I’d buy either a beer.
And to think he wrote for the blue collar hoi polloi–at least that’s what his audience often consisted of. Were he alive today would old Will have been a hip-hop artiste? A rapper par excellence?
The mind boggles…..
Sadly, my deepest appreciation of The Bard came from MacHomer. Try as I might, his works are lost on me.
That said, an evening with a loved one, sharing a show you both enjoy, well, I think ole Shakey might have thought that was just the ticket.
Hamlet proved to be my favorite when I discovered the Bard as a young boy. Macbeth we studied intensely in high school. If you’re ever down in Coke town, the Shakespeare Tavern does an hilarious rendition of The Taming of the Shrew, among others. They serve up some tasty authentic English fare as well (that might be an oxymoron). Of course they have Guinness, several ales (including IPA’s), and lagers on tap.
For those on the east coast, or visiting the east coast..the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival has a beautiful quasi-outdoor setting on the Hudson river, right across from West Point.
David Foster/
You’ve prodded my memory. For many years Louisville has held “Shakespeare in the Park” in Central Park in the “Old Louisville” section of Louisville during August in the evenings. Don’t know it’s status lately, but was run 76-94 by my next door neighbor (also a transplant from New Orleans, coincidentally) who was Head of the Drama Dept at the Univ. of Louisville. A delightfully informal experience if one didn’t mind the humidity and the mosquitoes,i.e., bring plenty of repellent–Louisville IS hard by the Ohio R. after-all
)
Good Grief that sounds so relaxing and like so much fun! I love outside theater in nice weather. There is a relaxed ambience that can’t be found in indoor theater.
I had awesome English teachers in high school. I look back on it with great fondness. My sophomore year we got into Shakespeare and I fell in love with him. Odd that I completely get Shakespeare, but am absolutely lost when it comes to poetry. Poetry leaves me feeling stupid. I’m not so good at reading into things.
John Barringer – English in junior and senior years of H.S.
John Brownell – History and Current events during same years
Magical educators. Mr. Barringer (funny how I can’t call him John, even 30 years after my last class with him) continues to be a much-sought-after teacher in my old hometown. He’s a friend on my Facebook and I still love every word he utters – even though politically he’s about as left as left can be, and thensome.
He too made us love Shakespeare – Romeo & Juliet, Hamlet, Much Ado About Nothing. Especially Hamlet. Saw Othello at Hartford Stage a few years ago – amazing production. Very spartan setting, gloriously bohemian costumes. Incredible story. Pitch perfect performances.
It is amazing that 400 years later – Shakespeare is still one of the most popular writers. I love the language – I get lost in it. It’s incredible that the language alone hasn’t relegated him to just a footnoted author.
I took my kids to see an outdoor production of A Midsummer’s Night Dream. They were transfixed. Upon completion, my youngest said, “I didn’t know Shakespeare wrote comedies.” I also took them to see The Tempest. Again, transfixed.
One of my Shakespeare teachers in High School had a standing bet with his students: Give him a dollar, and any two consecutive words in Hamlet, King Lear or Macbeth. If he couldn’t give you the immediately following word he would give you two dollars back. He used to stand on his desk and raise his hand in the universal sign of BS if he suspected our comments were ill considered or glib or dishonest. Born into a wealthy family, he worked for $1 a year. He flew planes in WWII but never talked about it. The stories of challenge he most enjoyed sharing involved his college exams when he was asked “There are [43] entrances and exits in Macbeth. Comment on the significance of each.” He used to swear liberally in class. He loved sharing the joy he took in early jazz. He was absolutely terrifying but tenacious in his efforts to help us understand and to try to be true to ourselves. And that, I think, gave us a potential built-in response to the gob-smacking inability to live up to his example.
Which I think Shakespeare might of had a few things to say about as well.
In my high school, we read Shakespeare out loud, with various people taking the various parts. Only problem is that I still think of Ophelia and Gertrude speaking with the voices of the girls who played them…
Before I die, I want to read and/or see all the Bard’s plays. I’m told that you pretty much do that in one semester in a college Shakespeare course, but I don’t want to rush them. I prefer to savor vice shovel.
If you’re looking for a book: Soul of The Age by Jonathan Bate is a new biography of Shakespeare that takes the novel approach of trying to back out/expound biographical details from the plays and sonnets. Starts off a little slow, but after 20 or so pages, it makes for a great read.
Two comments, actually:
1.) Up until about the end of the 19th Century, Shakespeare’s works were the most widely read books, second only to the Bible, in these United States. Every community had some form of playhouse, and major actors would travel the nation, giving performances backed up by local actors in the supporting roles. Even the less-formal schooled knew all the works, having seen them performed numerous times, and could quote large tracts from different works. It would have been the same in Shakespeare’s day, because the theatre was the major entertainment of those times.
2.) I had the great privilege of working for 6 years with the American Renaissance Theatre in Portland, Maine. We performed all of Shakespeare’s History Plays in order, from Richard II to Richard III. It was a marvelous time, and we ended the run with Julius Caesar, The Winter’s Tale, and The Tempest.
To say that I love Shakespeare’s works is an understatement. It’s always fun to note how often we use lines or phrases of his works in our everyday lives.
respects,
Oh, and one last thing: It may be putting my reputation on the line, but I have to admit that one of my favorite movies is “Shakespeare in Love”. To my own mind, it captured the sense and feeling of both the times, the lives of the actors, and the plays themselves, all in good balance and well presented and performed. I think that the Bard himself would enjoy that film.
We as a family volunteer at the Idaho Shakespeare Festival, usually working one each of five plays a year. Twelfth Night was the 4th play this year, and unfortunately we got rained out. Not before we did all of our work as volunteers and the theater was full though. Amazing how fast an outdoor theater empties in a lightning and rain storm.
ISF actually only does 2 plays a year from the Bard, reserving the other three for an eclectic mix of musical, dramas and comedies.
After the middle child gets settled you’ll have to try again. I hear Oregon has some pretty fine theater companies.
I love watching Shaky, but hate reading him.
When I was on the Sylvania, the movie Hamlet was shown one day at sea. I ended up leaving early because of the audience. They little appreciation for it and wrecked it for me. I went back to my paperback book I had in the chart house, and they never showed the movie again.
QM,
The reason a lot of folks hate reading him is because his works were meant to be heard. Most of the major points he wants to get across are presented at least three times, with varying verbage and accents so as to make certain the audience understands what is going on. Heck, if he ran out of words to describe something, he’d make up a new one!
I have often asked the teachers at my kid’s school(s) to allow me and some of my friends to come in and read for them, rather than to have the kids be forced to wade through the text, trying to understand the structure as well as the meaning. The big problem is that no one teaches them HOW to read the text.
Fortunately for me, my mother taught me how to read and understand the scripts early on, so that I could better appreciate it as I grew older.
Anyway, that’s my 2-cent’s worth on that
Am I the only one here (speaking of movies) who has watched She’s The Man, and adaptation of Twelfth Night starring Amanda Bynes, comic masters David Cross & Julie Hagerty, and the inimitable Vinnie Jones.
Other movie faves: Branagh’s Much Ado About Nothing, Ian McKellen’s Richard III, and the 1999 version of A Midsummer Night’s Dream starring a huge number of excellent actors, including Kevin Kline, Michelle Pheiffer, Rupert Everett, Stanley Tucci, David Strathairn, and Christian Bale.
The latter two have been re-cast in time, so Richard is set in 1930’s Britain, while Dream is set in 1890s Italy.
…Come to think of it, since I’m mentioning time-shifted and “based on” movies, I should also mention West Side Story, and 10 Things I Hate About You; the latter film pretty much putting Heath Ledger in the first rank of actors.
Kenneth Branagh does bring Shakespeare to film rather well with MAAN, Henry V and the beautifully shot (in 70mm) Hamlet. Too, whenever my wife and I stumble Shakespeare In Love on cable, we stop and watch, no matter where along it is. (Tim: Don’t worry about your rep.)
She wasn’t my favorite teacher in high school but Mrs. Rago’s AP English class was wonderful. We waded through Hamlet the way Tim says it should be done – out loud. She taught us HOW to read it and then that is exactly what we did. All of us. No one was spared – everyone read. It was great! My 9th grade English teacher – Mr. Campbell – also fueled my love for Shakespeare. We read Romeo and Juliet and then watched the movie (with the appropriate scenes skipped over…it was 9th grade). The book was better.
As for the teachers that truly made an impression on me (and it takes a lot to do so):
Mr. Marshall (AP US History)
Mr. Abramson (AP Calc)
Mr. Hermans (Government/Econ)
None of which are still alive. Otherwise, I’d buy them all beers. I was blessed to have been able to go back and tell them what they all meant to me before they died. And I attended the funerals of 2 of them. Wonderful men. Incredible teachers. Breaks my heart that my kids won’t be able to experience them.
In college, it was Mark Frasier – Human Gross Anatomy. His class was magical. His love and fascination with the human body was infectious and inspiring. I’d go back and take it again if I could.