Stage Whispers

Saluto

2007-04-22T16:07:00.000-07:00

Last night we wrapped. Although I didn't see the final show, I know it was sold out, and I gather it went extremely well. Monica suffered one final costume malfunction, and that threw her off for the last 15 minutes or so, lending a strange, almost manic energy to the couple's decline and fall. The other actors were excited, in a way, as though that simple mishap had opened up new doors of possibilities which we could have explored, if we'd had another week of shows. As for Monica, I think she was just happy to be done, and to be wearing a 21st century brassiere at last.

The strike was absurdly simple, since we were instructed to leave most of the set in place for a fundraiser next week. So that left lots of time to drink and party. Unfortunately, I was bone tired from ushing at a friend's wedding earlier in the day, so I couldn't stay too late. I managed to hold out for a few hours, though, chatting with various actors and watching them get even goofier than usual as they drank. Each time a cast member would depart for the night, the rest of the team would yell "SALUTO!" and drink to them. When I left (at 3am or so) I got a great big group hug. Nice.

So, that wraps up that show. I don't really feel like doing an autopsy on it right now, partly because it's still fresh, but also because I feel like even though I may not have done everything right to my satisfaction, the show still rocked. Therefore, any critical analysis I do at this late hour would be introspection at best, and self-flagellation at worst. I'm better off accepting that this was a great show, and who cares if it was because of me or in spite of me?

Actually, maybe I can answer that. I don't usually give much credence to reviews, but the reviews of A&C were revealing, because they said what they always say about my Shakespeare productions. They called it fast-paced, poetic, and accessible; and then they slammed it for failing to achieve whatever they consider "authentic Shakespeare" (one reviewer called it "the Coles' Notes version" of the play, and another paradoxically declared "Shakespeare's language is beautiful, bit [it] drowns out Antony & Cleopatra"). In other words, the show lacked the emotional "weight" that contemporary Canadian reviewers associate with Shakespearean tragedy.

This is my perennial weakness, if the critics are to be believed. So I can take the blame for failing to imbue Antony & Cleopatra with tragic "heft" or emotional "weight."

But hold on: does anybody (other than the critics, it appears) really want to endure two hours worth of "heft"? Does anyone enjoy leaving the theatre under five acts' worth of Shakespearean "weight"? Or would they prefer to feel uplifted -- to experience something light but thoroughly accessible? Again, since the reviews always seem to arrive at the same conclusions, I suppose I can take responsibility. I wanted to make this story feel real, to make the "immortal longings" of the two larger-than-life leads into something modern audiences could understand. And I think that's exactly what we ended up with.

So, saluto, my cast; and my wonderful crew, and everyone else who helped to make this show a hit. Saluto, until next time.

Infinite Variety

2007-04-20T22:17:00.000-07:00

Tonight was the penultimate show. I came back to see it after being away for nearly a week (the last show I saw was the Sunday matinee). I love coming back this late in the run, to see how many moments have solidified, strengthened, grown. I loved the jaunty bounce in Antony's step as he entered wearing Cleo's robe, and the change that suddenly came over him when he read the scroll that informed him of his wife's death. I loved Eros's flirtations -- how easily he got distracted whenever an Egyptian body part drifted past his periphery. I loved Cleo's struggle to control her tears after Antony has died and Caesar has invaded her monument. I loved the dawning horror with which Iras and Mardias awaited the arrival of "the worm."

And the audience loved it too. I suspect that many of the people there tonight had come with high expectations -- word-of-mouth is a powerful factor at this late point in a run -- and they threw their energy out onto the stage as soon as the lights began to dim. The actors knew what to do with it. It was a rugby game from start to finish. The laughter came freely, generously -- and at all the right times.

It may seem strange to welcome laughter when Antony botches his suicide, or when Agrippa walks in on the final tableau of corpses and says, "How goes it here?" But I think those moments of levity are necessary. They offer much-needed relief for an audience that is suffering along with the characters. Shakespeare knew this was important (consider the Gravedigger in Hamlet, or indeed the Clown/Soothsayer in this play), and I believe he would have approved of the dynamic we've created.

This performance confirmed everything I had hoped for this production. The audience understood, they were engaged and energized, and they were gratified to have been drawn in to so glorious a tale. Not only would Shakespeare have been pleased, but Antony and Cleopatra themselves can look down from their immortal perches and can grace us with applause.

Am I putting myself, or my show, on a pedestal? Perhaps. Just for tonight. Because tomorrow at this time, it will be less than a show. It will go the way of all art in this ephemeral medium ... it will be over.

Run: First Weekend

2007-04-15T09:51:00.000-07:00

I've been purposefully distant from the show for the past few days, giving the cast and crew time to gain a sense of ownership for the play. When I stopped in before the run on Saturday night, I could see that ownership was in full swing. The Thursday night show had been lower energy, but from the sounds of things, the Friday show was exciting and instructive for the cast, helping them to understand and clarify moments like never before. They were jazzed about the reportedly large house for Saturday night's run; just before the show, I listened to them shouting out their pre-show mantras, and I was delighted to hear "Go Big or Go Home" in there, but even more pleased to hear a lot of stuff that they generated for themselves. As it should be.

After the run, spirits were mixed. I had told them that this show was being videorecorded, and I think that made a few of them anxious. Besides, they said, the energy was ... odd. Moments happened differently, they said (different than what? The night before? Different than ever before?). That, plus a minor costume malfunction that may have gotten a bit exaggerated in the reporting, made some of the actors feel, I think, as though they'd passed their peak.

But they haven't. They're just exhausted, having been running the show non-stop since Monday night. Today's matinee will be a struggle to get through, I expect; but then they'll have a dark day, finally, and the climb will begin again. By next weekend, I predict new heights, new delights, and, yes, lots of different moments again -- but hopefully they'll be embraced, not feared.

There were two reviews printed yesterday, in the Journal and the Sun. I can't stand reviews, and I feel particularly resentful of the sorts of equivocating write-ups that we seem to get in community theatre. They're not willing to admit that there was anything outstanding about a show, but they can't bring themselves to slam it either (since they're "amateurs," they don't know any better, it would break their little hearts, etc.). But perhaps the cast won't see them, or they won't read into them the same faint-praise tactics that I detect.

In any case, it's the word of mouth that's gonna sell this show.

Opening Night

2007-04-12T09:47:00.000-07:00

Wow. Just wow. I must confess, after the sputtering starts of the first two previews, I was not expecting the show to click into gear so quickly, so thoroughly. After the performance, I intercepted several actors grousing about very minor things that went wrong -- mostly line glitches here and there. But that's what actors do; they focus on the things that went wrong, and somehow fail to miss the vast tapestry of things that went right.

So, what went right? Well, tech, for one thing. I didn't catch a single late cue. And the show's pace was amazing; transitions were sharp and tight, and energy rarely flagged within the scenes themselves. I did not hear much shuffling from the audience, even towards the end of the 2 hour running time. The ASMs got all the actors stuffed into their costumes, and all the props in their hands. And when the whip broke onstage (very thoughtfully waiting until the last moment of the last scene in which it's used), the actors grinned, went with it, and then worked together to cover it over.

But these are all the technical things. What went right in Shakespeare-land? It's difficult to quantify, but what I found was that the words and the movements always had meaning, specificity; and that the meanings were clearly and cleanly connected to the energy onstage; and that the energy was shared, it was collective, it got passed back and forth fluidly, like the rugby ball that Kieran brings to warm-ups.

You can do Shakespeare with meaning, but no energy. And you can definitely do Shakespeare with lots of energy, but very little meaning. But the pairing of the two is rare; and to have it continue throughout an entire show -- especially one with this many transitions, shifts, ups and downs -- is truly extraordinary. Considering the sheer volume of words and shapes this cast has to deliver, the fact that everything felt clear and meaningful? Miraculous.

Now, I'm not the best judge of clarity of meaning, since I've been living with the play for many months. But the feedback and the impressions that I got from the audience supported my feelings about the show. I can always tell when an audience feels delightfully surprised that they actually understood Shakespeare. They feel like they've been introduced to a whole new world of possibilities. And so they have.

So, wow. I'm hyped. I expect the energy will flag tonight -- it always does -- but by the weekend, and certainly towards the end of the run, it will be back, and probably bigger than ever. The actors will surprise themselves by going places verbally and physically that they didn't think themselves capable of. And word of mouth (not to mention the lovely spread in the Edmonton Journal yesterday) will help bring in great big audiences to share the magic.

There are aspects of this process that I'm already second-guessing. But when the product comes out looking and sounding this good, it's hard not to rest on your laurels for a bit. So that is what I'll do.

Previews

2007-04-10T22:05:00.000-07:00

Two previews have come and gone. Monday night was a small house, mostly friends of the cast; there were quite a few dropped lines, but the energy was strong, especially in Act Two. The actors know their stuff: they're comfortable with the script, the set, their costumes, and each other; but the presence of an audience is just enough of a variable to throw you off. But that's what previews are for.

Tuesday night is the "artist's preview" -- each show, we do an Art in the Lobby display, and the artist invites friends and family to see the art, and the play. They're usually very enthusiastic, if for no other reason than because they're getting to see a show for free. This group was a bit dead, although there were definitely one or two Shakespeare aficionadoes (you could hear them laughing at the bawdy puns).

Yet, despite the cold-fish feel that I got from the house, the actors hit their stride. Cues were tight, energy was high, and it was clear that everyone on stage was having fun -- which is actually pretty remarkable, considering it's only their second night before a crowd.

I realized tonight that I'm really pleased with how effortlessly this diverse group became an ensemble. I don't give myself enough credit to assume that I was in any way responsible. No, it's just one of those things that either happens, or doesn't; this time, even though the cast was split up for much of the rehearsal process, they found ways to connect, to work and play together onstage and off. For a show like this one, it's vital; it gives everyone the confidence they need to push themselves in new directions.

Now, I can only hope that pushing continues throughout the run. My job is pretty much done...but these guys and gals have lots of time left to play.

Tech Dress...And Away We Go!

2007-04-09T08:42:00.000-07:00

Like it or not, it's out of my hands.

And I do like it. I liked an awful lot of what I saw during Saturday's tech dress. The actors adapted quickly to their costumes, and to the lights and sound (even though there were still tweaks and adjustments going on with the latter two). They put all petty frustrations and anxieties, and went for the gusto. I saw glimpses of moments and energy in some scenes that I hadn't seen since the early days of scene work, lo those many weeks ago. The fact that they did this without any kind of pre-run pep talk from me stands as testament to the fact that they don't need a director hovering over them any more.

So that's a relief. There were other, mostly minor, frustrations during the run. The slide projections (part of the reason why we constructed our entire set around a big, blank sheet of canvas) didn't arrive until intermission -- and, even then, not everything we needed was in place. And Antony's "bloodied" tunic was white as snow.

But these are minor, minor things -- the sorts of oversights that only directors would even pick up on, much less gripe about. The fact is, Antony & Cleopatra has everything it needs to wow an audience: snazzy costumes, a bold soundtrack, a colourful, soaring set -- and a huge cast full of energetic, committed, hard-working actors, whose clear, articulate delivery carries both the poetry and the tragedy across without a hitch. It's an exciting show, because the play itself is done so rarely, and because, let's face it, nobody expects a show this big to get done this well by a community theatre.

But it's great. We've pulled it off. And now, all we need is that aforementioned audience to wow.

Dress Run

2007-04-05T15:54:00.000-07:00

Confession time. I love actors, really I do; I love watching them explore and test out a role, make discoveries, and finally dive in and make a character their own. I also love watching them get so wrapped up in their process that they forget about everything else around them. Non-industry observers would mistake this for egomania, but in most cases, it's just attention to detail.

But I also enjoy the foibles of actors, particularly their relationships to other parts of the theatrical process. They crave anything and everything that will help them to define their characters; yet they are uncomfortable with those parts of the process over which they have no control -- and, if you're an actor, you know there are a lot of them. As a result, they end up loving and hating all the stuff that's going on around them: the set, the lights, the sound, and so forth.

Nothing illustrates this more than costumes. Right from the start, actors ask me, "What will our costumes be like?" Sometimes these questions relate to very practical concerns (ie. Will I be able to see/move/fight/dance easily?), and once in a while, it's a matter of vanity (although I don't detect a lot of divas in this cast). But usually, I think that actors' curiosity about attire stems from the connection between costume and character. Some actors feel like they can't really embrace their characters until they see themselves in costume.

Consequently, actors await the first dress rehearsal with bated breath. Because it comes so late in the rehearsal process, there's a lot of excitement built up around it. In some cases, they convince themselves that, as soon as they slip on that dress/tunic/breastplate/hat, they will magically unlock all the secret parts of their character, and their performance will achieve escape velocity, and head for the stars.

In reality, the opposite is true. The first dress rehearsal is usually the most awkward, uncertain, stumbly of all the tech-week run-throughs. Some of the stumbling is literal, of course (ie. How come my dress is so damn long?), but it's psychological as well. Actors who expect a miraculous transformation are disheartened to discover that their costumes feel not liberating but, well, weird. After all, they aren't designed to feel great; only to look great. And the actors aren't in the audience, so they can't see how good they look.

And they do look good. Melissa has done a fabulous job, not only with the leads, but also with the soldiers, the Egyptian women, and even walk-on characters like banquet servants. But I had to smile, watching the Romans and Egyptians recede into the background, replaced by a stage full of slightly bewildered actors. By Saturday, they'll be comfortable, and the energy and characterization will return. They might even find ways to use the costumes after all.

But, just like there are no easy solutions to directing, there are no short-cuts to characterization. The costumes don't sell the show; they're just the wrapping paper, to decorate the presents underneath. Ditto the set, lights, sound, props. By Saturday's run, the ball will be back in the cast's court. Go big or go home.

Cue to Cue

2007-04-04T15:25:00.000-07:00

Monday and Tuesday night was cue to cue. Pretty painless, all in all. I always find the first 40 minutes or so of cue to cue excrutiating, mostly because I'm a fifth wheel, sitting on the sidelines while SMs, ASMs, and techs scuttle around, sorting out who's doing what, and how. This time, I busied myself by typing up the line notes from Sunday's run -- a task which became considerably harder once the house lights had gone down. So much for multitasking.

But the actors were incredibly patient and good-spirited, and once the techs found their groove, they boogied through the first act in a couple of hours, leaving us in good shape for Tuesday night. We moved just as smoothly through act two, although we still hadn't found the magic music that would give the final tableau its due. Phil had a few options, and I think we've found the right one. Maybe we'll try it out tonight; if not, tomorrow.

It's strange, seeing my play carved up into a series of transitions and tableaux. I guess it shouldn't be odd, since we've been rehearsing it in shreds and patches since the very start, and only recently have begun to put it all into a single narrative whole. I guess the weirdness stems from seeing the moments from a technical perspective -- not as dramatic turning points, but merely as cues for lighting or sound stuff to occur. It's going to be like that from here on in, for me, at least. Until the tech, and set, and costumes, and props are all settled and in place, I will be unable to see past those absences. It's like the big, white curtain sitting upstage, waiting for projections to illuminate it (which won't happen until Saturday). Until it serves some dramatic purpose, it sticks out like a big, white, thumb.

But soon, very soon, that will change again. I'll be able to see the show through an audience's eyes...and everything will be different.

Meet the Block

2007-04-02T12:26:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we moved downstairs, into the theatre proper. It was a bit of a traffic jam, because set construction and painting continue. But we've done everything we can in the rehearsal hall, and if we spend much more time upstairs, we're liable to get complacent with that (smaller, flatter) space.

The Walterdale space is something of a character unto itself. Its low grid, slightly uneven floor, and broad, curving apron make for a unique acting environment. It's difficult to forget that you're surrounded by walls and audience members -- a restriction which can make it hard to generate the breadth and grandeur of a play like A&C, but which can work to one's advantage, too. Remember that Shakespeare's theatre was open-air, and the audience was totally visible and mere inches away from the stage.

So the actors got to meet their acting ally, the stage. Plus several other new members of the cast: the pillars, the platform, the curtain (hastily and temporarily attached so I could play with the shadowscreen), and the block. This latter set piece really is like a character in the play; it moves, thanks to an ingenious rolling system devised by Erik and Doug Verdin; and it is used, at different points in the action, for sitting on, standing on, scrambling or leaping across, marching up and down, and dying upon (and against). It's much bigger than the bench we've been using so far, which was itself bigger than the two plastic chairs we started with. It's going to take some adjusting too, although the cast already seems to be getting the hang of it.

Finally, we met some of the lighting effects, in the form of a fairly loose tech run (I had expected sound also, but in retrospect, I'm glad we didn't have it -- the cast had plenty enough to worry about). Some of the levels will need to be boosted, I think, but overall we're in good shape in that department. I've also been informed that our costumes are now pretty much complete. Cool!

I think that puts us in very good shape for our cue to cue. With a little bit of luck, tech week will be a breeze.

'Twas the Night Before Tech Week

2007-03-30T21:38:00.000-07:00

We had another run on Thursday night, in the rehearsal hall upstairs. I told the cast that this was their last chance for a run "with no surprises" -- no new costumes, set pieces, lighting or sound cues appearing unexpectedly to disrupt their performances. Consequently, I said, this is the last chance before our previews to go big or go home.

They went for it, and the result was full of energy, and yet still clear and meaningful. I think that, in a lot of cases, there are emotional highs that have yet to be hit, but those heights might not be attainable until close to the end of the run. In any case, there's not a whole lot more that I can do at this point, without creating changes and setbacks. They know their characters better than I do now; it's up to them to figure out what notes to play, and then to play them as loudly/sharply/strongly as they can.

Tonight, Friday, was a free night for them, but I was at the theatre, along with Roy, Janine, and Jenn, building lighting cues. Roy is a veteran lighting designer, and he's done a million shows in Walterdale, so he was able to move through the various configurations with lightning speed and efficiency. Janine and a volunteer named Chelsea walked the stage for us, so we could see how the bright, warm washes of Egypt and the sharp, cool washes of Rome would strike our actors' faces. Meanwhile, Erik strolled in and out of the shop, experimenting with glow paint for no real reason.

The set is nearly complete, although painting will continue through the weekend. The lights are mostly in place, although we'll try to integrate a projector soon. Sounds sound good. Costumes are being sewn and stitched. There's a real momentum, now, to the whole enterprise. I can't wait to see all these pieces of the puzzle come together.

Run Time

2007-03-28T08:09:00.000-07:00

Monday night, we ran through the whole play for the first time in weeks. Tuesday night, we did an Italian run, condensing the two-hour play into one swift, slightly slurred sixty-minute span. Along the way, I also managed to accomplish the following:

Tighten up the fights (and suicides) with Calvin, our fight coach;
Confirm the bulk of our sound design with Phil;
Approve a few lighting arrangements with Roy and Janine (since I happened to be in the theatre while they were testing washes);
Talk hair with Sue, and costumes with Melissa and Geri;

So things are heating up. The Playhouse feels energized, lots of actors and designers scurrying around. Even the actors who have long stretches of time with nothing in particular to do still seem excited.

The danger now is loss of focus -- not just for the actors, either, but for me. We need to stay focused on our goal, and on our timeline. I need to be able to decide when to stop nit-picking and making adjustments, when to step back and let the momentum of the show carry us through to opening night. If I had to make a guess, I'm thinking my last chance to be a finicky director will be Thursday (another run). After that, it's sailing -- and whether it's clear or bumpy, it doesn't matter. There ain't no oars.

Goin' Big

2007-03-25T17:16:00.000-07:00

Fun times. Two run-throughs of Act Two this afternoon: first, a blocking-focused run, which ironically had more line-related glitches than anything else. Good thing I've got an Italian line run scheduled for Tuesday.

Having reassured myself that the blocking was in good shape, I told the cast that our second run-through would be a chance to cut loose: to Go Big, or Go Home. That has been my mandate from the first day of rehearsals, but I've discovered how easy it is to lose sight of it, especially when you don't have a chance to see the "big picture" of the play. Now that all the scenes are settling into order, it's easier for the actors to find their objectives and play their arcs. And, for these characters, the arcs should break through the stratosphere. Hence: Go Big...

The change was remarkable. As I said after the second run, "it's a whole different play." Octavian's rage, Cleopatra's increasingly desperate histrionics, Antony's bipolar (or alcoholic) decline, send out shockwaves through each scene. The supporting characters were equally outstanding, going from mere witnesses to active participants in the catastrophe. This was especially true of Cleo's ladies and Antony's "sad captains", all of whom I've blocked as silent witnesses for many of the later plays. Thanks for reminding me of everything you have to offer these scenes!

Everything is coming together; even the Roman marching which caused such mathematical consternation clicked effortlessly into place during the warm-up. Today has left me optimistic as we move into the rocky period preceding our opening.

I'll Mend It, Then I'll Play

2007-03-21T21:27:00.000-07:00

Big call tonight -- just about everyone, except Antony, Enobarbus, and Eros -- the ones who have died before the play's finale. Tonight, we killed the rest: Iras, Charmian, and Cleopatra.

Everyone worked well this evening, although we were getting a bit punchy by the halfway point. I think my references to Raiders of the Lost Ark didn't help matters any. In spite of silliness, we got some great work done, including some stellar performances from Cody and Monica as Octavian and Cleopatra face off at last.

Costume and prop items are finally beginning to trickle in, and the set, while not yet done, is starting to look like a set (the pillars are settling into their assigned places). I know the cast is at the point they need to be in order to open in two and a half weeks; and I'm confident that the rest of the show can catch up. There are still lots of little things to mend, but gosh darn it, I think we might just have a play.

Left Ourselves to End Ourselves

2007-03-19T21:24:00.000-07:00

We made quick work of Antony's attempted suicide scene tonight, plus the scene which follows it (with soldiers helping him off to find Cleopatra). I've been sending John in some unusual directions, and tonight I discovered that I'd unwittingly maneuvred two actors, John and Jennifer, into playing almost entirely against the lines to each other. I'll explain.

First, my partial solution to the problem of Antony's yo-yo emotions in the second half: booze. It's a bit of a cheat, but several characters in Act One do reprove Antony for partying too much in Egypt; and he himself admits at one point that he neglected important duties because he was too hung over. When he rushes back to Cleopatra, it makes sense that he would also be rushing back to Egyptian wine...and that would lead to a loss of emotional control, and eventually to bad choices, like we see in both of the battles.

John has no problem adopting this approach, and it's easy as pie to work it in -- we just make sure Antony has a goblet in his hand as often as possible. But it does change one thing -- namely, Antony's degree of blamefulness increases dramatically. His accusations to Cleopatra become cheap attempts to displace the blame that he clearly deserves for these significant screw-ups. When he flees from the battle at Actium (after watching Cleopatra retreat), he says

Egypt

, you knew too well
My heart was to your rudder tied by th’ strings,
To tow me after.

And, since Cleopatra is crying "Pardon!" it's easy for us to forget that Antony is the military general, not Cleo. Similarly, in the second battle, when he briefly perceives that he might be gaining the advantage, Eros points out that the Egyptian reinforcements have not embarked. Why not?

EROS: You never gave the order, sir, to launch.

Nevertheless, Antony blames Cleopatra -- accuses her of "packing cards with Caesar," even. This sort of loose, desperate blame-calling isn't Antony's style; but then, as he keeps reminding us, Antony is "not himself" anymore. He has drunk himself into oblivion.

An intelligent alcoholic knows they are at fault. Antony says "Betrayed I am," and the line refers to Cleopatra -- but inside, he knows better. And here's where things get tricky, and the line readings begin to bend around backwards, to the point where they're nearly 180 degrees.

Cleopatra re-enters, and Antony curses her with words he knows will drive her away:

Vanish, or I shall give you your deserving
And blemish Caesar’s triumph. Let him take you
And hoist you up to the shouting plebians!
Follow his chariot like the greatest stain
Of all your sex; most monster-like be shown
For poor diminutives, for dolts, and let
Paitent Octavia plough your visage up
With her sharp nails! You’ll die for this!

On the surface, these lines mean exactly what they sound like. But, if Antony knows that she's not deserving of any such fate -- if he knows that he is to blame for their downfall -- then the intention changes. Now, he wants to minimize any further harm to Cleopatra. His alcoholic's mindset says "I'm cursed, I'm useless, I'm a bad egg. Anyone who sticks with me will sink along with me." And therefore, Antony's intention is to drive Cleopatra from him so that she might retain a fighting chance of surviving Caesar's invasion.

Antony carries this intention into the next scene, and when Mardias enters, he curses Cleopatra thus:

ANTONY: She has betrayed me and shall die the death!

Subtext: keep her away from me, or she'll get hurt. But Cleopatra, who misinterpreted his rage, sends Mardias after him to tell him she has slain herself. Jennifer (who plays Mardias) long ago established that she disapproves of Cleopatra's emotional games, and this is the worst game by far. But she does her job, and shows up to inform Antony that

Death of one person can be paid but once,
And that she has discharged. The last she spoke
Was “Antony! Most noble Antony!”

When we ran it tonight, I told Jennifer to play against the line. Her job is to tell Antony that Cleopatra is dead; but her intention is to convey the opposite information: this is a ruse, this is a game, Cleopatra needs you, go to her.

Antony, however, misses the subtext. Suicides ensue. And there you have it: two desperate characters, saying the opposite of what they ought to be saying. Will the audience penetrate all that subtext? Ah, who cares. Either way, it's a stirring scene. And there are swords. How can you go wrong?

Advance! Surround! Retreat!

2007-03-18T16:11:00.000-07:00

A long, busy rehearsal today -- our first five-hour one, although more than a few actors curtailed that length by accident (check your schedules, please!). Most of the time was spent on battle scenes, and we managed to get through all three of them, plus a few surrounding scenes along the way.

Some thoughts about battles. Shakespeare didn't do 'em. He apparently felt his company's resources were inadequate, and even asked for his audience's forgiveness in Henry V for having "dared / On this unworthy scaffold, to bring forth / So great an object" as the battle of Agincourt. Mostly, his skirmishes were confined to offstage alarums and occasional, one-on-one scuffles (which, as often as not, started onstage but quickly moved offstage, as if even the combatants were embarrassed or shy).

This is odd, because overall, Shakespeare really seemed to dig spectacle. Elaborate pageants, parades of kings and princes, witches' dances (okay, the dance in Macbeth may have been written after Shakespeare was dead...but he probably would've liked it). The duel at the end of Hamlet is chock full of pomp and circumstance, with cannons firing, trumpets sounding, and of course plenty of poisoned, unbated fencing foil a-flying. Why, then, did he deliberately push all his wartime spectacle offstage?

Having incorporated stylized battle sequences into both King Lear and A&C, I believe I can provide an explanation: they're bloody hard. Pageants and dances are difficult enough to choreograph, but the thing about them is, they're meant to be aesthetic and symmetrical. War is messy, random, chaotic. Choreographing chaos is hard.

But, as always, my actors were troopers, and we got everyone's roles in the chaos straightened out. I think the results will be -- well, not exactly stunning, but impressive. Ultimately, they feel as though, for a few moments, the rigorously structured world of Rome and Egypt shudders, threatening to collapse. And that's what war should feel like: the potential decimation of society. Now, as long as the play doesn't collapse, we've done our jobs.

Oh, and I think I've started to devise a solution to the Antony trajectory issues I mentioned in my last post. More on that soon.

Ups and Downs

2007-03-16T17:33:00.000-07:00

It's been an interesting week -- trying to keep things on schedule despite occasional cast absences and a minor crisis with another Walterdale show (back on track now, I think) -- and creeping once again towards the final scenes of the play, which we haven't worked in a while, and which I don't feel like I have a much firmer grasp on, even now. I reassure myself my observing that some scenes, especially emotional ones, don't usually gel until you're in the space, surrounded by costumes and props and even an audience. Even so, it's nerve-wracking.

Working through the scenes that would have comprised Act Four in Shakespeare's version of the text, I notice a pattern starting to emerge. Antony enters, actively trying to generate high spirits and confidence (in himself, in Cleopatra, in his troops). Minor comic moments as his enthusiasm wavers. Then, a serious blow: Enobarbus has defected, or Caesar refuses to fight with him face to face, or Cleopatra never launched her ships. And, in each scene, Antony's spirits are crushed, and he leaves the stage convinced that he's going to die, and that it's all his fault (or, sometimes, possibly, Cleopatra's). And all these scenes are intercut with short scenes of Octavian gloating, or Enobarbus dying, or "the god Hercules" deserting Antony (via spooky music).

This pattern might be partially my own fault, since I did shuffle some scenes around, and since we're making some interpretive choices about tone, etc. But regardless, I can't help feeling that Shakespeare has gotten ahold of a great big hammer labelled "Antony is Doomed!" and is spending the act beating his audience over the head with it. Yes, Will, we understand. Antony is doomed; we've known this from the start; it is a tragedy. Get over it!

Or maybe "Get over it" should be directed at Antony himself, who seems to confront his oncoming defeat with nothing short of whiny, self-indulgent angst. This isn't John's fault, I hasten to point out; he seems to be much more comfortable with Antony when he's in full Roman mode, and whenever I offer him the opportunity to act rage, he delivers admirably. In other words, it's not the actor who's despondent, it's the character. Antony wants to be Hercules, but the circumstances (The fates? The gods? The author?) have turned him into goo.

I'm afraid this is not very satisfying, but I don't know what else to do. I've been looking for moments of humour, largely because watching forty minutes of self-important melancholia would be unbearable. But the more humour I inject, the more I make Antony's ups and downs into a farce. And, in another few scenes, he's going to undergo one of the most farcical deaths in all of Shakespeare: a botched suicide. I'd almost rather stage exit, pursued by a bear.

In one respect, this is what Shakespeare wanted: to show a potentially great man devolve into a disgrace. I just don't know how far I should go, and I don't feel like I'm in control of the trajectory. I'm terrified that, when he dies, at last, in the arms of Cleopatra, the audience's response will be: took him long enough!

Roman Physics 101

2007-03-11T18:51:00.000-07:00

Roman Physics CI, Final Exam
Question I (XX marks)

Two triumvirates are marching away from one another at right angles. They will travel a distance of XII feet, marching in unison. Each triumvirate has between I and II soldiers marching behind them (this fact may or may not alter the experiment). If the triumvirates need to arrive at the same point simultaneously, and turn so as to face one another, how many steps much each one take? Should they each start out on the left foot (according to the traditions of Roman, and Canadian, marching), or should the triumvirate who will be turning right need to start out on the right foot?

Show your work.

In Dreams Begin Responsibilities

2007-03-08T21:09:00.000-08:00

After a hectic banquet rehearsal last night, we had an altogether relaxed rehearsal tonight, focusing mostly upon relative newcomer, Helen Klemm, who is playing the Soothsayer and the Chorus. Helen is wonderful -- over twice my age, and yet she's never acted in a Shakespeare play before. Yet she approaches her lines with a grace and pleasure that, I am sure, will affect the audience as soon as the lights come up. It's always nice when one can exploit the Walterdalians' inherent enthusiasm for being on stage.

I wrote the two chorus speeches, in order to give the action of the play a bit more context to those who may be unfamiliar with the story. The first one begins with my favourite line from Act Five: "I dreamt there was an emperor Antony." The dream is coming true, slowly but surely.

The second act speech starts with the line, "In dreams begin responsibilities." This line isn't Shakespeare's, but it isn't mine, either. William Butler Yeats wrote it, in 1914, describing it as "an epigraph from an old play." Somehow, I feel it applies to A&C perfectly; every night, I watch as the main characters struggle between their dreams of happiness and their obligations.

And then there's me, just over a month from opening. My dream to produce this play has unleashed a flood of responsibilities -- not just for me, but for everyone in the team. Now is the time to buckle down and face the tasks ahead (unlike Antony, who runs from his responisibilities, leading to his ruin). We can make this dream happen. It's just going to take a lot of work.

Winds and Waters

2007-03-06T21:17:00.000-08:00

In some respects, it feels as though we're simply whizzing along. In other respects, the show remains huge, and time is starting to slip away (this Sunday is one month away from opening night). I try to stay steady and focused on whatever task, or scene, is in front of me. God -- and Shakespeare -- is in the details.

Monday night involved the Octavia scenes from Act One and early Act Two -- the first time I'd actually seen them with all the actors present, believe it or not. I made a lot of blocking adjustments and ran them, probably fewer times than I should have.

Tonight we were in Egypt, but Calvin came by to block an early fight (more of a scuffle, really, as Cleopatra flips out at Eros when she learns that Antony re-married). It's nice to get a wee bit o' violence into the play. He'll be back next Monday to do more bits.

We also ran a short scene in which Cleopatra interrogates Eros regarding Octavia's appearance. It's a very funny scene; I think it will be a highlight of the first act. Never mind that it's essentially about a jealous, spurned lover having a hissy fit; this is Cleopatra, after all; as Enobarbus says, "We cannot call her winds and waters sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacs can report."

A Cleopatra Trap?

2007-03-04T16:59:00.000-08:00

I was not in very good shape this afternoon, but I managed to keep it together through a four hour rehearsal. Everyone's patience helped a lot, despite their being left, in some cases, for long stretched of time without anything to do. All in all, we managed to firm up the blocking of four big units -- the whole first Egypt sequence, essentially -- and made a number of useful discoveries along the way.

Unit 5 was the most taxing, because it involves high emotions (Antony's wife is dead, Cleopatra is about to lose him to Rome) and a lot of dime-turn tactics and deliveries. The tendency is to play emotional subtext close to one's chest, yet these scenes call for a lot of histrionic acting -- and not just the bits where Cleopatra is showing off, either. In fact, I'm starting to worry about whether or not the audience will be able to distinguish between feigned emotion and genuine distress. At one point, I told Monica that Cleopatra is a lousy actress -- but only because she has to be, because her "acting" needs to be so much bigger than her (already big) delivery that it's tantamount to stuffing all the scenery into a blender, mixing it with ham and cheese, and drinking it for breakfast.

Is that really what I want to end up with in my show? Am I falling into a Cleopatra trap -- the reason, perhaps, why so many critics despise her (because she encourages overacting)? Or will the audience exult in it, because it's giving them what they want -- ie. a diva?

Well, we'll see. In the meantime, the love games they're playing (snakey-liony-hissy-growly-chasey-wasey) are, for better or for worse, subdued. Nothing kills a bedroom game faster than hauling it out of the bedroom (and onto the stage).

Poster Draft

2007-03-04T09:12:00.000-08:00

After the unfortunate incident with the snake, Randy (our poster designer and incoming Artistic Director) tried a different approach: a metallic snake on a posed model (I didn't want to haul Monica out on an off-day again, and as you can see, most of "Cleopatra's" face is out of frame in any case).

For some reason, Blogger seems to want to upload it in blue, instead of fleshtones. So this image shows you the shape, but not the natural colour, of the poster. Even so, you must admit, it's pretty natty.

Roman Drift

2007-03-01T22:50:00.000-08:00

Back to Antony's arrival in Rome tonight -- the council scene, where Octavian and Antony square off, and only the promise of Octavia allows them to resolve their petty differences. It's a tricky scene, in a way, because it involves three great men (O + A + Lepidus) arguing over petty slights and character flaws. You want to shout, "Get over it!" and just move on. But Cody, John, and Allan did a fine job giving these characters some depth, at a point in the play where they haven't had much chance to develop yet.

I also enjoyed watching Matt, Denny, Kieran, and Erik work on the soldiers' stuff, both in this scene and in the next (featuring Enobarbus's famous "The chair she sat in" speeech). Keeping them marching in unison is always a challenge (I think we need a rule about always wearing shoes, or something), and I also noticed a phenomenon which I've dubbed "Roman drift" -- the tendency for soldier actors to mysteriously wander downstage as scenes unfold. Someone suggested that it was indicative of the inevitable expansion of the Roman Empire, but I think it's just that every Roman, whether high-born or low, thinks he all dat, and wants to be centre stage.

You'll get your chance, Roman homeys.

"The Sea is Mine"

2007-02-28T20:32:00.000-08:00

Good, brisk work on two short scenes. The introduction of Octavian and Lepidus is important, because it brings Rome onto the stage for the first time. And the scene with Pompey, Menas and Menecrates introduces the first major sub-plot, and the antagonists of Act One. In a way, the scenes are both about Antony (all the other characters refer back to him constantly), but it's also nice to make them clear and distinct introductions of all these other rich characters.

And rich they are. Even though I spent most of the rehearsal fussing over Roman marching and other blocking minutiae, all the actors were clearly making leaps and strides in characterization and delivery -- thanks in large part to Sarah's work downstairs, but also to the actors themselves, for taking me at my word and using the repetition of the scene work to explore, take chances, and go further. My private ambition is to not get bored with any of these scenes. So far, so good!

All Together Now

2007-02-27T21:05:00.000-08:00

A lot has happened this week, and it's only Tuesday.

Last night we moved into the space. After a tour of the theatre by Leland, the building manager, we launched into a line run. The first day off-book is always nerve-wracking, but I was impressed -- amazed, in fact -- at how far along the cast is with their lines. Even the heavy lifters were at least 80% off-book. Kudos, everybody. It makes my job -- and yours -- a whole lot easier from here on in.

Monday also saw visits from Theresa, our production manager; Melissa, our costume designer; and Sue, our hair & makeup lady. Plus the cast met Helen, our new Soothsayer. A busy day, but spirits were high as we wrapped things up at 10.

Tonight, we launched back into scene work. I started with a Soothsayer scene, to get Helen acquainted to the layout of the stage. I also wanted to revisit Cleopatra's coterie of ladies, to observe how they interact -- and this turned out to be not so easy, as two of them weren't there. But we managed to get a lot done anyway.

What really seemed to work well tonight was sending actors off to work in pairs. Kieran and Denny worked out a petty rivalry between Enobarbus and Ventidius that really clarified the opening of the play. And Monica and Vanessa worked together to give Eros his hands full when delivering messages to Cleopatra. It's great to see the cast supporting one another, taking risks, and making discoveries -- and much of it without any prodding from me! If this keeps up, I'll be able to slack my way through the next month and a half; this show will direct itself!

Lady with Snake

2007-02-23T15:17:00.000-08:00

I hate poster photos. With a show, you have months and months of rehearsal to get things right -- or else, lots of time to reconcile yourself to not getting them the way you pictured in your head. But poster photos, and other elements of publicity, never seem to work out the way I imagine them, and since they're often practically an afterthought, they fly past me so quickly I don't really have a chance to wake up, smell the coffee, and acknowledge that my brilliant ideas might not have been so brilliant after all.

Case in point: the A&C poster. Randy, our designer, asked me for a dramatic, pre-climactic image from the show that we could recreate. "Cleopatra with a snake in her hands," seemed the obvious answer, even though the actual show will be snake-free. And so, last night, Monica and I found ourselves trying to get a dramatically posed shot with a snake that (surprise surprise) would not stay still.

You know the old film rule about never working with children or animals? It goes double in the theatre...and quadruple for snakes.

Monica was a trooper, but my photography skills are questionable at best, and the snake didn't feel like posing. I'm hoping that Randy can trim and Photoshop my shoddy work into something a bit more striking. In the meantime, here's a candid shot of Monica making friends with Smaug. Enjoy!

"Eternity was in our lips and eyes"

2007-02-21T20:56:00.000-08:00

A rare treat today. Instead of fretting over blocking, or barking orders to phalanxes of Romans, it was just me an' Antony an' Cleopatra.

That's not to say I don't enjoy working with everybody else in the cast, because I surely do. It is a daily delight to see what everyone is bringing to the table, and already I feel like a grain of sand on a vast beach (a very talented beach...hmm, no, my metaphor has stalled). But it's also nice to work closely with just a couple of actors now and then, to eke out of them more intimate performances when they don't feel as though all eyes are watching them. Which is an odd thing to say, because of course acting is all about all eyes watching you...and so is being Antony or Cleopatra, for that matter. But it's a funny thing about actors -- they tend to be very shy right up until they're primed to hog the limelight.

Anyway, John and Monica did some lovely physical work, distinguishing the different "modes" of their characters (Antony in command, Antony furens, Antony discandying; Cleopatra performing, Cleopatra stalking, Cleopatra stripped). They figured out how to manipulate or steer each other into different modes. They got really silly, like lovers do, making animal sounds and gestures (I fully intend to hang on to some of that stuff for the show -- it's simply too precious). They also looked at some of the later, harsher scenes, to figure out how they can really hurt each other. So, to the moon and back, essentially.

A lot of good stuff happened. Good, exciting stuff. Both actors are concerned that their physical and vocal choices are too big, too broad -- at one point John cracked a joke about William Shatner -- but I have every confidence that, if and when the time should come, they can rein it back. But until then, the second Golden Rule of Shakespeare rules the roost: Go Big or Go Home.

Roman Drill!

2007-02-20T20:14:00.000-08:00

I wasn't sure quite what to expect tonight, as Sam the drill instructor visited to put the Romans through their paces. No need to worry, as it turned out. Sam has trained in the Canadian military, so she was able to show our Roman actors how a real soldier moves. We went through all the basics: standing at attention, standing at ease, turning, marching in straight lines, marching in curves. The actors cheerfully forgot everything I'd tried to develop with them and embraced the new form of movement.

Afterwards, Sam said to me that she'd never taught drill to a more enthusiastic group. "Actors," I told her, "are like sponges. Give them something that might help their characters, and they'll soak it right up."

The trick, now, is retaining all of that soaked material. I will try to be rigorous about having them do drill as part of their warm-ups. By April, they'll be ready to ship off to war -- or, at the very least, to go on parade. Dismissed!

Into the Valley

2007-02-19T11:49:00.000-08:00

Things are moving quickly, as usual. This week, we managed (just barely) to finish blocking the second act. When we got to the run-through on Sunday, there were many empty spaces: people who hadn't been able to attend rehearsals, or else actors that I hadn't called for scenes in which they appeared. We spent the first 90 minutes filling in the gaps, and then ran the second act (at about 52 minutes, a very nice length).

It looks good. There are definitely some rough patches, most particularly the battle scenes. These roughnesses are no one else's fault -- everyone did a great job remembering their blocking, and following my (sometimes contradictory) instructions. It's only that I can't necessarily tell how things will look until they're up and running. This is especially true of large-cast scenes like the battles. Sails are up, swords are flashing, characters are shouting their lines out into the audience ... it's chaos, just like war is chaos. But we have a story to tell, too, and into each of those battle scenes, Shakespeare has inserted important plot points. How do I make sure the audience gets the message?

Other challenges and anxieties at this stage of the game: movement work is moving forward slower than I'd like. We have spent a few rehearsals doing Egyptian movement work, and we're doing a Roman marching session on Tuesday. But it feels like, the moment a run-through begins, all that historical/cultural physicality melts away, to be replaced by modern-day Canadians walking like themselves. I expect this will improve once the scripts are out of actors' hands, though. But that raises the next big question:

February 26 is our off-book date. It never happens exactly when it's supposed to, and I've become accustomed to sacrificing the week or so following off-book date to the usual ferrago of stumbles and frustrated shouts of "Line!" It's part of the process. But if we don't get off-book soon, then, I feel, we really can't move forward: connecting the words with the movements, connecting with other actors onstage, and starting to bring the larger-than-lifeness of the play out in the open -- all these things depend on the cast's confidence in themselves.

It would also help them, I know, to have some sense of what they're going to be wearing. Melissa, our designer, has been busy with other shows; and then she got very sick. I hope and pray that she will resurface this week, to start the design process. Only after blocking did I realize how many scenes revolve around costume items -- the process of arming or unarming, or the gender play of Antony and Cleopatra in the first act -- even the "Romanness" and "Egyptianness" which I'm constantly shoving down actors' throats will become so much clearer for them once they have costumes.

This is, in many ways, the most frustrating point in the process for me. Tech week, I can handle. Opening night, no problem. But I hate the valley of uncertainty when you know you have a cast, a script, and a series of scenes...but you don't yet have a play.

Set Maquette

2007-02-14T17:06:00.000-08:00

I've had this now for awhile, but I didn't get around to posting it until now. It's a miniature model of Alli's set.

The Crown o'th' Earth does Melt

2007-02-09T22:14:00.000-08:00

We're into difficult territory, faster than I'd expected or prepared for. Last night we worked Antony's death scene -- and, yes, in the original play, he dies at the end of Act Four, leaving the final act for Cleopatra. But no matter how you slice it, it's approaching the zero hour of the tragedy.

At this point, lots of practical considerations come into play. Death onstage is always difficult; plus, I've decided to use the stage in some new ways, opening up a discovery space upstage to represent Cleopatra's monument -- but since I'm not 100% sure how that part of the stage will be configured, there are a lot of physical uncertainties for the actors to contend with.

In spite of these obstacles, the cast has been really strong. It's a juggling act: remembering blocking, trying to get off-book (hence struggling with scripts), and trying to plumb the tragic depths of Shakespeare's majestic poetry. I'm awed by their devotion to the task, and it buoys me up as we move even further into tragedy -- ie. Act Five.

Meanwhile, good news on the design front: our last designer is in place. Please welcome Daniel Koyata, our props master. He's a MacEwan theatre production grad, and he seems very keen to join the adventure. Welcome aboard!

Enobarbus in the Ditch

2007-02-06T20:37:00.000-08:00

Far less prepared than I should have been this evening. The scene in which Enobarbus dies (of a broken heart?) snuck up on me, and I didn't get a chance to look it over this afternoon. Likewise two scenes leading up to it -- bad show, Mr. Director. Fortunately, everyone else is on the ball: Cody had strong suggestions for his Octavian scene, Kieran knew exactly what he wanted to do with Enobarbus, and everyone else was on task and energetic. We blocked all 3 scenes in about an hour.

Things are going so well, I'm starting to get worried. I'm going to miss tomorrow's rehearsal (Sarah's filling in), and then back for Thursday...and could that be the end of the play already? Surely not. I really must set aside some extra time soon.

Act One, Under Wraps

2007-02-04T20:21:00.000-08:00

A long rehearsal this afternoon. A number of cast members were sick, and I've seen far better days myself; but we pressed onwards, and managed to get through the entirety of Act One -- twice! I'm impressed by how quickly the cast has internalized blocking, especially in some scenes which were never very specific to begin with. A few gaps remain, but then we've blocked a bit of Act Two, also, so it kind of balances out. It's a nice benchmark.

The cast is becoming more comfortable physically, and the language also feels more natural. Status is generally clear, although I think bigger choices could reinforce it more often. I'd like to keep reinforcing these things, but I also want to have time to dive deeper into the language and into characterization -- to make the rhythms, movements, and images translate into profound character moments for everyone.

Luckily, we do have time -- over two months, still. But I know it will fly by.

Slink, Whip, Limp

2007-02-01T20:13:00.001-08:00

Steady progress this week through a whole bunch of scenes. We did most of the Act One Egypt scenes on Tuesday, skipping over a fight scene but managing to insert a lot of great physical comedy (Eros's pelvic thrust, on "For the best turn, i'th'bed", was a stroke of genius). Then into Act Two yesterday and tonight, focusing on Antony and Cleopatra back together again, sliding inevitably into tragedy. Tonight Antony got to meet his "sad captains," Silius and Philo, who turned out to be the least inspiring soldiers one could ever imagine. Nice work, fellows.

Sunday, we stumble through Act One! There are large blocking gaps, I realize, but it will be good to fit these pieces together, and to remind ourselves of the basic rules of the play's world: Egyptians slink, Romans march (except when they limp).

P.S. We got our swords this week, too! They're fantastic! I can't wait to show them off on Sunday.

P.P.S. Wouldn't the title of this entry make an excellent tongue twister?

Memorizing Lines

2007-01-30T13:28:00.000-08:00

Since the cast has about a month to get off-book, I thought I'd share some of my observations about memorization. Because I'm a bit pressed for time, I've taken the easy way out and copied out some text from an article I wrote about a year ago for the Walterdale newsletter. As you read, actors, think about the techniques we've already been using in rehearsal: identifying the rhythm of the lines, walking them out through to get them into your muscle memory, and shaping the lines to give yourself specific visual associations. You'll be surprised to see how close these techniques are to the oldest surviving system of memorization known to man:

There are, of course, many tricks and techniques, and most experienced actors have found one or two approaches that work best for their finicky brains. Repetition by rote is the most common, if you can find a quiet space to repeat the lines without driving family members crazy. A lot of actors will record their own voices reciting their lines, and then play the tape back to themselves in the car or on the bus. Thanks to the invention of headphones, this trick is less likely to annoy those within earshot; but heaven help the actor to misspeaks one of his lines onto the tape, because there’s no way he’ll be able to correct himself after he’s listened to the wrong version 200 times.

Another time-honoured tradition, and one which relies less upon modern technology, is writing the lines out longhand. This technique is slower, and it does not focus upon the sound of the lines per se; but it does help an actor to increase her comprehension of the words she’s soon to speak. Copying out one’s own lines (instead of writing out the entire play) allows an actor to create the modern equivalent of a Shakespearean “prompt-book”—which is not only easier to lug around than a full-sized script, but makes for a great souvenir once the show has closed.

Whenever I’ve had to memorize lines, I employ a technique which uses sleep cycles to transfer items in my short-term memory into my long-term memory. It sounds scientific, but it’s really very simple. If I can read quickly through five or six of my lines each night right before I go to sleep, then I’ll usually discover that I have those lines memorized the next morning. The only drawback of this method is that you end up dreaming about the play—but for a lot of actors, that’s already a given.

However, one of the oldest methods of memorization is even more scientifically sound. I’m talking about The Art of Memory, a technique employed over 2000 years ago by Ancient Greek and Roman orators who were preparing to recite lengthy speeches on the subjects of politics or law. This method sounds a bit complex at first, but once you’ve got a personal system worked out, it ends up being a remarkably efficient way to commit large passages to memory.

The Art of Memory uses mental architecture combined with visual metaphors to create a symbolic landscape with the keys to all your lines laid out in order. First, you choose a real-life environment with which you are extremely familiar; you might select your house, or the school you spent a lot of time in as a child. Next, you imagine yourself moving through the environment in a fixed path. In each room or area, you pause just long enough to remember a line from your speech.

The familiarity of the space helps you to recall the order of the lines; but what about the content? For each line, you need to create a visual image which corresponds to, or evokes, part of the content. For example, here’s a famous speech from Hamlet:

To be or not to be; that is the question;
Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them.

The images don’t have to be literal; they could be metaphors or puns, or anything that prompts you to remember the content of the line. For the first line of Hamlet’s speech, I might picture a man holding two bees in his hand, and scratching his head, as if pondering a question. When I turn to the second line, I might envision a crying (suffering) brain (mind) with a crown (noble) on top. The third line might conjure up an image of Mr. Burns (outrageous fortune) wearing a sling and clutching an arrow. And so on.

It sounds crazy, I know. But there are two subtle psychological tricks at work. First, the fact that you, the actor, are responsible for creating each visual metaphor makes it a snap for you to decipher them. An outsider looking at my rebus puzzles would have a hard time translating them; but since I made them myself, I have a built-in decoder.

The second part is where the real whiz-bang science comes in. According to psychologist Allan Paivio, the process of remembering involves two separate mental systems: the imagery system and the verbal system. In other words, we remember words and images with different parts of our brains. But the two systems can work together, searching simultaneously through two filing systems of memory, working twice as fast and doubling the chance of finding something that will stimulate the right thought.

I must confess, I haven’t run into a lot of actors who use this sort of system on a regular basis; but since I’ve begun to brag about my own successes in using the Art of Memory, a number of my actor friends have tried it and found that it not only makes the memorization process more reliable, but even makes it a bit more fun. If nothing else, it certainly equips you with an interesting answer for the next time someone asks, “How do you remember all those lines?”

HBO's Rome: Season 2

2007-01-28T19:17:00.000-08:00

The second season of "Rome" is broadcasting on HBO right now. Episode 2 was just aired, and it contained a few interesting pre-A&C moments, including the first official meeting between Antony & Cleopatra (in Rome, not Cydnus), and a knock-down, drag-out brawl between Antony and Octavian. This sort of dirty, bloody work is typical of the series (which also isn't afraid to sprinkle the dialogue with 4-letter words). It's a sharp contrast to the grandeur of Shakespeare, but it might be worth a look, just to see how nasty, brutish, and short life was back then.

If anyone in the cast wants to borrow a copy of this episode, let me know.

"How Have You Come From Egypt?"

2007-01-28T16:26:00.001-08:00

A productive afternoon rehearsal today, in a freezing room (sorry about that, everyone!). We blocked three and a half units -- about a third of Act One -- including the banquet-on-the-boat scene, which may be the most complex in the play. Despite the chill, everyone was energetic and focused, and we got things blocked efficiently. It was fun watching the stolid Romans degenerate into drunken revelers; we shall have to go back and reinforce their serious demeanours earlier on, in order to make that contrast more satisfying for the audience.

Today also marked the first rehearsal for Sheila, who is playing the Soothsayer. Doing her scenes out of order (we had planned to work her first scene on Tuesday, but the rehearsal got cancelled) made it a bit odd for her, I think; but in a way, it was a nice touch to have her appear so unexpectedly in a room full of "veterans" -- in much the same way as her character pops up amidst the Romans. It's always neat when life imitates art (just so long as our production doesn't end in tragedy, that is).

Coming soon: memorization tips. I promise.

Roman and Egyptian Gods

2007-01-23T11:37:00.000-08:00

Here's an impressive list of gods and goddesses from the Roman and Egyptian pantheons, compiled by Giorga, our dramaturge. I'm going to ask the cast to look through the lists in search of gods which they feel their characters might worship, or even just relate to. Then we can use the imagery (animals, objects, activities) of the gods to inform how the characters look and act onstage.

I've included links to the Wikipedia pages that describe each of these gods, so that the cast can get even more information, and hopefully images as well. There are probably lots of other online resources to tap.

Roman Deities

Apollo (aka Phoebus) is the Greek god of the sun and light, music and poetry, healing, and the flocks. The Romans adopted their worship of him from the Greeks and he has no Roman equivalent. He is portrayed as the image of idealized male beauty.

Cupid is the Roman equivalent to Eros, the Greek god of love, although the Roman incarnate propagated only sexual desire. The Greek Eros symbolized all attractions that provoke love. Both the Greeks and Romans saw him as cruel and disruptive, and he is portrayed as young and beautiful.

Faunus (aka Lupercus) is a god of the forests and fertility and is opposed to civilized society. His temple, Lupercal, is the cave in which Romulus and Remus (characters in the foundation myth of Rome) were suckled by the she-wolf. He is associated with the Greek Pan and is represented as half man, half goat.

Fortuna is the goddess of fate, chance, and luck. A golden statuette of Fortuna always had to remain in the sleeping quarters of Roman Emperors.

Hercules is derived from the Greek Heracles, who was originally a hero (mortal man with godlike powers born to a human mother and a god) and later developed into a immortal divinity with a cult. According to the Greek myth, Athena, who guided him throughout his life, brought him to Olympus after his death. He was thought to have the ability to avert evil and is the patron of military training. He was recognized and worshiped as a god by the Romans and later emperors often identified with him. He is primarily associated with the activities of men and not considered important to women.

Janus is the god of all doors and gates, of departure and return, and is associated with the key. He is also the god of beginnings as he presides over daybreak and the month of January and is considered the father of the gods. He was Chaos at the beginning of creation, then his Janus form emerged. Normally he is represented with a double face (to represent looking both ways as a door does and the confusion of his state at creation) or as an older man with a beard.

Juno is the goddess of light and childbirth (newborn baby is brought into the light); she is the feminine counterpart to Jupiter with respect to light. She is the goddess and symbol of the Roman matron and is important to ceremonies of marriage and married life. She is the sister and wife of Jupiter and mother of Mars.

Jupiter is associated with the Greek Zeus and is king of the gods and the god of light (sun and moon) and celestial phenomena (wind, rain, thunder, tempest, lightning). He was the patron of the violent aspect of supreme power but also a political god who symbolized great virtues such as justice and honor and exercised his power within the law. His symbol is the scepter, the Roman symbol of power, and is the protector of the Roman empire. He is usually represented as bearded older man.

Oceanus is the Greek personification of the world’s great ocean, which was believed to be a great river encircling the world.

Orcus is a god of the underworld who carried the living to the Underworld by force.

Mars is the most important Roman god after Jupiter. He is an important figure in the history of Rome since he is the father of Romulus, the legendary founder of Rome. His primary function is to be the god of war and battle but he may have originally been the god of vegetation and fertility; the warrior function may have evolved as Rome became a stronger conquering nation. He is associated with the Greek god Ares.

Mercury is the god of merchants who presides over commerce and messages. He is portrayed as beardless, with a winged staff entwined with two snakes, winged sandals, and carrying a purse.

Minerva is the goddess of wisdom, warfare, and handicrafts and protector of commerce, industry, and schools. She is associated with the Greek Athena and is represented in a similar fashion, with wings and holding an owl.

Saturn is the god of agriculture, a working god and a vine grower. He has the same status as Jupiter and Janus.

Venus is the goddess of love and beauty and patron of all seductions and is associated with the Greek Aphrodite.

Vesta is the goddess of the hearth and fire used in the household and religious ceremonies. She is a virgin yet also the symbol of ideal motherhood because fire nourishes. She is considered among the most beautiful of divinities but always represented as veiled.

Vulcan is the god of destructive fire and worshiped to avert fires. He is identified with the Greek god Hephaestus.

Egyptian Mythology

Amun is the king of the gods who represents the forces of generation, reproduction, and renewal. In myth he is a universal god who permeates the cosmos, a god of fertility and sexuality, and a solar god. As a solar god, he takes on attributes of Ra to become the composite Amun-Ra. The most powerful Pharaohs are considered his sons and he gave them victory. He is represented as a human with bronzed skin and kingly attributes (royal headdress, sitting on throne); sometimes represented with the head of a ram.

Anubis is the god of the dead who opens the road of the other world for the deceased and ensures that offerings for the deceased reach them. Upon Osiris’ death Anubis invented funeral rites and bound Osiris’ mummy to preserve him. He was born of Nephthys and abandoned, and was raised by Isis. He is represented as black jackal or black-skinned man with head of jackal or dog (the dog is sacred to Anubis).

Anhur (aka Onuris) is the god of battle, war, and hunting. He is often associated with Ra, as a warlike personification. He is represented with warrior traits—warrior headdress, long embroidered robe, brandishing a lance.

Hathor is the goddess of women, motherhood, and female sexuality as well as joy, dance and music, and foreign lands. She is a protector of women and a mother goddess associated with all aspects of childbearing. Her maternal roles include being a mother to the Pharaoh and nourishing the living with her milk, and being the mother to Horus in myth. She is also said to be a creator goddess closely associated with Ra. She is usually represented as a human woman similar to Isis, but is also represented as a cow or cow-headed woman.

Horus is the god of kingship, the son of Osiris and Isis, and avenger of Osiris. His presence in the palace indicates the Pharaoh as a mediator between the heavens and earth. He is represented with the head of a falcon.

Imhotep was a high official of the Pharaoh Djoser of the 3^rd dynasty who was eventually raised to god status after his death. He was likely a highly skilled physician and as a god is the patron of medicine, whom worshippers pray to for healing. He was also an architect and highly learned and is a patron of writing and knowledge.

Isis is the most important Egyptian goddess, the sister, wife, and consort of Osiris. She helped in his civilizing of Egypt and revived Osiris with magic. During the late period of Egypt she absorbed the qualities of all the other goddesses. She is mother to Horus and his protector until he was old enough to avenge his father. She is also an archetype of the mourner and the protector of the dead in the afterllife. She is represented as a human in a long sheath dress and a throne crown or horns and a solar disk (appropriated from Hathor).

Khnum is a god associated with Nile, its fertile soil, and the creation of life. He is portrayed as potter who shapes all living things at his wheel. He is usually depicted as a ram-headed man.

Maat is the goddess of law, truth, and justice, and represented the universal order and balance.

Nephthys is a funerary goddess who is subordinate to her sister Isis. She is also sister and wife of Set, but unable to bear his children, so she made her other brother Osiris drunk and had a tryst that resulted in Anubis. She represents the desert’s edge, typically arid but fruitful when the Nile floods are high.

Osiris was originally a god of nature and vegetation that ceaselessly dies and born again. Later he became the god of the dead and achieved first rank in Egyptian mythology. According to Egyptian myth, Osiris instituted the cult of the gods, building the first temples and sculpting divine images, and abolished savagery and civilized Egypt, then wished to spread civilization around the whole world through nonviolent means. When he returned to Egypt he fell victim to a plot by his brother Set, but was resurrected by his wife Isis with the aid of Thoth, Anubis, and Horus. He did not return to ruling Egypt but instead became lord of the Underworld.

Ra (aka Re) is the sun god, lord of the sky and heavens, and supreme creator of the world. Originally he ruled the earth but ascended to the sky when he became too old and weary. He is considered the father and ancestor of all Pharaohs. He is usually depicted with a solar disk above his head, and sometimes with the head of a falcon. This deity can be fused with Amun to become Amun-Ra.

Sekhmet is a goddess of war who has both a violent and destructive aspect and a protective and healing aspect. She is the patron of the military and a symbol of the Egyptians’ military power. She is represented as lioness or human with head of a lioness.

Set is the god of violence, chaos, and confusion. He is Osiris’ evil younger brother, born violently with white skin and red hair, which was an abomination to the Egyptians. He was jealous of Osiris and assassinated him. Originally he had a cult but was driven from the pantheon in the tenth century and made god of the unclean and enemy of all gods. He is associated with the ass, the antelope, and other desert animals as well as the hippopotamus, boar, crocodile, and scorpion, animals in which the god of evil takes refuge. He is usually represented as an unidentifiable animal (or man with the head of this animal) with a thin curved snout, square-cut ears, and a stiff forked tail.

Thoth is the god of writing and knowledge as well as the patron of history, the kingdom’s sacred scribe, keeper of divine archives, and herald of the gods. He is vizier to Osiris and later Horus. He is endowed with complete knowledge and wisdom, invented hieroglyphics and all arts and sciences, and is associated with truth and integrity. . He was also lord of time and measured time into calendar divisions. He is represented with head of an ibis (wading bird with long downward-curving bill). Seshat is his female counterpart.

Cleopatra's Women

2007-01-21T15:30:00.000-08:00

Good progress today on a number of fronts simultaneously: Christine came in to do more bellydancing movement work with the Egyptian ladies; we figured out how the various Romans reacted to Egypt's culture; we worked through and semi-blocked several early Egypt scenes; and John, Monica and I started to crack the complex, ever-shifting relationship between Antony and Cleopatra.

Monica, Beverly, Leah, Erin, and Jennifer did some great work in building a coherent Cleopatran entity--moving in unison, or building off each other's movements, in a way which really captures the stage. Then the four waiting-women had a conversation about their respective characters. Hopefully, they'll share some of their observations and discoveries on this very blog...?

Walk Like a Roman

2007-01-18T21:12:00.000-08:00

All boys tonight: Antony, Octavian, Lepidus, Enobarbus, Ventidius, Agrippa, and Gallus strutting about the stage like they owned the place. And they do. When in Rome, every gesture and movement should suggest that power. And when they travel to Egypt, hopefully they will retain some sense of that authority, if only so that it contrasts more sharply with the world of the East.

Tonight we started to practice group movements, with Antony leading and Enobarbus and Ventidius falling into line. Cody made an excellent observation/suggestion: if the cast (and not just the Romans, but everyone) can communicate and share the stage, if they can signal their movements and intentions to each other, then they really can coordinate their movements, even on the fly. I find that notion terribly exciting. Not only does it suggest a well-oiled Roman machine, but it suggests a well-oiled cast, and an energetic, synchronized production. I look forward to seeing where it can go from here.

Week Two: Walk Like An Egyptian

2007-01-17T20:14:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I couldn't make it to rehearsal (I was celebrating my wife's successful Ph.D. thesis defense -- hurray!), so I left matters in the capable hands of Sarah and Christine Frederick -- the latter being a longtime friend and a skilled bellydancer. They split the actors up into Romans and Egyptians, and worked out a series of movements that could help to distinguish them onstage.

Comments this evening were varied. Everyone seemed to enjoy it, but the women found the bellydancing daunting -- they all agreed it was a complicated business, and they'd need more work before they could do it onstage with confidence. The men seemed impressed enough by what they saw, though -- apparently it was difficult for the Roman soliders to remain in rank & file while all those Egyptians were sashaying around them. I think this angle bears more investigation.

Tonight, we read through two thirds of the play, walking on each line and talking about the shifting status in the play. Interesting thoughts about the relative culpability of Antony & Cleo -- everyone agrees that she's manipulative, but opinion seems divided over whether she's really to blame for Antony's downfall. John said something interesting: "Both of them are narcissists, and they see themselves reflected in each other." Sounds like a recipe for disaster, indeed.

I like where we're at, but there's a lot more work to be done. The rhythms and movements are still just vague sketches; they need precision and confidence. And the characters will, of course, have to be bigger -- always bigger. But tonight, I saw some flashes of the potential heights to which this cast can climb. Onwards and upwards!

Second Rehearsal: Room Fulla Ducks

2007-01-11T20:36:00.000-08:00

Tonight we heated up the chilly Avonmore Hall by scanning, walking, and shaping our lines. I always admire the confidence and trust shown by a new cast. Here they are, still mostly strangers, and already they're strutting around the room like ducks on acid, muttering Shakespearean lines out of context. It actually didn't look that silly (yeah, it sorta did).

But the unselfconscious display paid off: by the end of rehearsal, I could see light bulbs starting to click on as people saw that status, rhythm and imagery can connect to character -- indeed, may even provide a short-cut to character, rather than all that convoluted Stanislavskian psychological whatnot.

Yes, but (as one actor asked me after we'd wrapped) "won't we look silly"? If we continue to strut about like ducks, then yes. But by the time April rolls around, the rhythms that now feel awkward and obtrusive will be totally internalized, a song that plays itself while the action unfolds.

P.S. I can tell, from the choices of movement and shaping shown by most of the cast, that they're also eager to explore the "lust" and sexuality inside the play. That, too, requires trust, and maybe a bit more familiarity. But I can already tell that, once that impulse starts to grow, this is gonna turn into one seriously hawt play.

First Rehearsal: Honour and Lust

2007-01-10T20:18:00.000-08:00

I've been feeling a bit out of sorts over the play for the past few days, and a part of me dreaded the prospect of bringing that ennui into tonight's rehearsal. But, as it turned out, the source of my problem became apparent immediately -- and then resolved itself at once. I needed my cast! My excitement over the show had stalled because I couldn't move any further forward without having a cast around me. Now that's been remedied, and I feel great.

We had a strong turnout tonight, despite the crappy winter weather. After I babbled for a bit about "rules for directing" and "rules for Shakespeare," we got down to business. First we had an interesting discussion about the play, revolving chiefly around the notions of "honour" and "lust" -- not only sexual lust, but also lust for power, lust for life, and maybe even a general "life force" (which is the term Marvin Rosenberg uses in The Masks of Anthony and Cleopatra).

I was able to correlate these two concepts to the public/private dialectic; that is, I argued that "honour" is a public force because it requires outside observers in order to confirm it (ie. you can't be "honourable" unless others think you are), whereas "lust" is a private affair. If this is true, then it strikes to the heart of the conflict in the play -- not just Antony's, but everyone's. What is more important: public honour/responsibility/loyalty, or private lust/love/need? How does one decide?

After that, we did some name & line exercises, and started to invent a system of visual status for the world of the play. I'm excited to see where that goes (I only got a glimpse of each one tonight). I'm equally excited to watch as this cast gets acquainted and begins to bond. I can already sense the stirrings of a wonderful ensemble.

Making History

2007-01-07T12:21:00.000-08:00

So far, when I've spoken to people about my "concept" for A&C, there's one idea which I keep reiterating. The scope of the play, I say, is big, and the characters know this. Not only are Antony, Octavian, and Cleopatra aware that their decisions and gestures will have broad and long-term consequences; but even the minor players recognize that they are standing next to the titans of their time -- perhaps of all time. They're making history with every breath.

But how do you communicate this to an audience? The first step is to have the cast deliver lines and actions as though they are literally larger-than-life...but this is also the first mis-step, because it can easily read as the worst sort of Shakespearean ham-acting. You have to distinguish between actors who act like they're the most important people in the universe, and characters who know they're the most important people in the universe. And that's a subtle, tricky distinction.

I've also talked about blocking the play to create tight groups of characters, usually clustered around one of the power players. I'm pretty confident that will help to create the larger-than-lifeness. But will it say anything about history? What I'd really like to do is find a way to suggest that these characters understand their roles in posterity. At some level, conscious or otherwise, they understand that their words & actions will be replayed over and over again for thousands of years, on stages throughout the world. I'm not sure that's something actors can readily communicate.

So it may be time to impose a little business on the play. I've got this great big open stage, and I've got plenty of bodies to fill it with...so why not make those bodies do some things that can, perhaps, elucidate this notion. Like what? Well, one suggestion my wife made (from a production of A&C that she saw in England) was to have a character following the big cheeses around the stage and recording their speeches. In my version, it would have to be a soldier, probably Gallus or Agrippa; and they would be alterately welcomed (by characters like Octavian, who loves his popularity) or begrudged (by Antony, who frequently seems a bit awkward with his status as a living legend).

Another thought I had, which would also play to Octavian's vanity, would be to have him posing for a painting or (more likely) a sculpted bust. I don't know how practical that would be on stage; I guess a vaguely head-shaped prop could be constructed out of papier mache or styrofoam and then padded with clay. Those sorts of high-maintenance props need to have some sort of payoff, however; I wouldn't want to tax my designers with creating a bust and then only use it for half a scene.

A third, very vague, thought: near the end of the play, Cleopatra expresses her horror at the idea that "comedians / Extemporally will stage us and present / Our Alexandrian revels." She's referring specifically to the revels that would accompany her arrival in Rome, if she allows herself to be taken prisoner by Octavian. But she is making a choice about how she will be remembered by history -- not as a caricature of an Egyptian courtesan, but rather as a queen and a goddess. Is there some way that I could build this idea, and this transition, right into the business of the play? I'm imagining some little interlude, an "Antony & Cleopatra" puppet show that Cleo could interrupt, replacing the diminished & ridiculous Cleopatra with her own grand self.

That would be a nice, physical realization of the size & scope theme. It even renders visual Cleo's vision of Antony: "His legs bestrid the ocean" (ie. he's a giant when compared to these paltry little puppets). But where would I fit it in?

A Designer At Last

2007-01-04T16:10:00.000-08:00

My sleepless nights are at an end, and I can put aside all my desperate and speciously-justified alternative plans. We have a costume designer! Melissa Cuerrier, who designed King Lear last year, has graciously agreed to supervise the design process. This is good news because she is tremendously talented and comprehensively competent (I'm not sure what that means, exactly, but I wanted the alliteration).

The only problem is, she's also very busy. To be specific, she is designing two musicals at Grant MacEwan college this year. So she'll still need a lot of help to get the actors fully clothed. But we have a number of volunteers who are willing to help out, just so long as there's somebody supervising the endeavour. I'm now wayyy more comfortable with how things will work out.

Plus! Jenn, our SM, found us a master builder (Erik). So our production team is, suddenly, almost complete!

In other news, our cast has undergone a few tectonic shifts. Hopefully it will settle in time for rehearsals to start next week. Here's the current roster:

Allan Stoski: LEPIDUS / PHILO

David Cairns: POMPEY / SILIUS

Bonni Clark: OCTAVIA

Nathan Coppens: MENAS / SCARUS

Denny Demeria: VENTIDIUS

John Dolphin: ANTONY

Vanessa Lever: EROS

Erik Martin: AGRIPPA

Kieran O’Callaghan: ENOBARBUS

Jennifer Peebles: MARDIAS

Cody Porter: OCTAVIAN

Monica Roberts: CLEOPATRA

Matt Robertson: GALLUS

Erin Voaklander: ALEXAS

Leah Wilburn: IRAS

Beverly Wright: CHARMIAN

Philip Zinken: MENECRATES / THIDIAS

TBA: CHORUS/SOOTHSAYER/CLOWN

What About...Masks?

2006-12-31T14:02:00.000-08:00

I had a mini-revelation last night. I'm still not sure if it's a viable idea, but I think it has the potential to solve two big birds with one semi-simple stone. Bear with me as I tease this out.

First, the practical production problem: we still lack a costume designer, and it's becoming increasingly clear that no one is willing to take on the responsibility when the cast is so big, the costumes are period, and the Walterdale wardrobe has so little from that era. Everyone agrees that Antony & Cleopatra deserves to be a sumptuous visual spectacle...but no one is willing to take charge of that sumptuousness (at least not where costumes are concerned).

I've been wracking my brain trying to come up with a fix for this. One option is to set the production in a different period altogether -- some historical or contemporary setting that Walterdale already has ample supplies of in our wardrobe. But a decision like that requires an equally strong artistic concept backing it up. There's nothing worse than a Shakespearean production wallowing in post World War I Europe or floating in some vaguely medieval limbo if there isn't some strong, supportable reason for connecting that play with that period. Modernizing the play is also fraught with problems, because then you have to explain the presence of swords amidst 21st century battle gear (or else use the word "sword" to describe the machine guns in everybody's hands). In any case, nobody wants to see Cleopatra in a modern evening gown; they want to see her in her own historical grandeur.

However, a clever designer has a bit of an out, here, because most people don't know exactly what that historical grandeur is supposed to look like -- only that it's not like anything we see today. Most theatregoers have a vague sense of Roman attire, but Egyptian fashion? Hard to place. They could involve a lot of gold, like Tutenkhamen's sarcophagus; or they could involve brightly coloured, flowing fabrics, like images of Persian or Arabian cultures; or they could be quite simple, like the white cloth tunics seen in most hieroglyphics. (Historically, Cleopatra probably dressed more like a Greek noblewoman than an Egyptian goddess.)

Where am I going with this? I'm dancing around the notion that Egypt and Rome can be signified by relatively simple and basic images -- a coloured fabric here, a tunic there, maybe some gold jewelry, and so on. But that doesn't account for the rest of the clothing (actors need to wear something, after all). Nor does it provide the spectacle which audiences expect with a play like this.

I'll get back to this problem in a moment. In the meantime, there's another challenge, this time of an artistic nature. It involves the tension between characters' public and private personas -- a tension which pervades the play, as Antony & Cleopatra struggle to resolve their private love for each other with their public responsibilities to their respective realms. There are a number of ways to demonstrate this tension onstage -- through voice, through physical stance, etc. -- and I suspect I'll draw on most of them at different points in the action.

But what if there were a way to clearly delineate the public/private faces of these characters while also injecting a hefty dose of visual spectacle and theatricality? And even make it fun for the actors?

Greek and Roman theatre employed masks to identify character types, and to amplify and broadcast emotions onto a grand tragic (or comic) scale. Their masks represented public, easily recognizable figures -- the Hero, the Soldier, the Lover, the Old Man, the Clown -- and those characters were expected to behave according to particular parameters. Like Antony the public figure or Cleopatra the queen, those masked characters had scripts, and if they deviated from those scripts, then their audiences would rebel.

Most modern productions that employ masks use them for similar ends. They usually either use masks 100 per cent of the time, or not at all. But what if a character could be masked in public, and then remove that mask in private, intimate scenes? It would become a sort of badge of office, like a helmet or a crown. It would also give characters a physical focus for their debates about public vs. private responsibility. Imagine Antony saying, "These strong Egyptian fetters I must break / Or lose myself in dotage" while raising his "Roman" identity up to his face, to cover up the naked, honest emotions that reveal him as a human being.

What about the costume problem? Adding masks doesn't resolve this issue, but it might give us the artistic flexibility we need to simplify our design concept to a manageable level. The masks are a "conceit," an artistic abstraction that informs the audience, right from the start, that we're not 100% in the real world. Once you've telegraphed that sort of abstraction, you can afford to make other adjustments, too. You could, for instance, make the base costumes more neutral (timeless, colourless robes or tunics, for example), and then use individual costume items as signifiers (as mentioned above).

So, in theory, the masks could solve a very problematic production issue and an artistic challenge in one fell swoop. They're not without their own challenges, of course -- mask construction takes time, and can be messy -- but this is the first idea I've had in awhile that seems to really open up a wealth of performance possibilities.

Thoughts?

A Cast At Last!

2006-12-18T20:36:00.000-08:00

Our call-back read-through was tonight; it was exciting, but also nerve-wracking; I felt like I was auditioning as much as they were, plus I had to make some very tough decisions about casting. I hope I didn't disappoint anyone too much; but I am certain we have an amazing ensemble cast on our hands!

Here is the cast of A&C 2007:

Kelly Aisenstat (Lepidus / Philo)
David Cairns (Pompey / Silius)
Bonni Clark (Octavia)
Nathan Coppens (Menas / Scarus)
Denny Demeria (Ventidius)
John Dolphin (Antony)
Erik Martin (Agrippa)
Kieran O'Callaghan (Enobarbus)
Jennifer Peebles (Mardias)
Cody Porter (Octavian)
Monica Roberts (Cleopatra)
Matt Robertson (Gallus)
Erin Voaklander (Alexas)
Natasha Weenk (Eros)
Leah Wilburn (Iras)
Beverly Wright (Charmian)
Philip Zinken (Menecrates / Thidias)
TBA (Chorus, Soothsayer, Clown)

Auditions, Day Two

2006-12-13T20:03:00.000-08:00

Another good night on Monday, and a lot of fierce discussion afterwards with Sarah and Jenn. Who's Antony? Who's Cleopatra? Who's available when? Who do we want to work with? Well, we'd like to work with everyone, but ultimately it comes down to questions of chemistry and compatibility. Who do we think will work well together--or look good together?

I wish I could provide all the answers, but I don't have them--not quite yet. We'll have to wait until the call-back on Monday to finalize the cast. We'll read through the script and I'll try different actors' voices off each other. It will be a bit nerve-wracking, waiting until then--and I can only imagine how the actors must feel!

But soon, very soon, we'll have a cast. And no matter how the chips fall, I think, it'll be an awesome one.

Auditions, Day One

2006-12-10T21:23:00.000-08:00

Tonight we had the first round of auditions for A&C. We saw 16 people (plus one early bird I saw yesterday because she couldn't be here tonight or tomorrow) -- and I'm aiming for a cast of 18, so in theory, we should have almost everyone we need.

Except...the ratio of female to male auditioners is, perhaps unsurprisingly, skewed. Every gal wants Cleopatra...and who can blame them? I had to beat the bushes a wee bit to get men out to the auditions. And it paid off, to some extent. In the end, it turned out to be a very fine evening. I saw a number of familiar faces (some from King Lear or other recent Walterdale shows) and a lot of delightful surprises from newcomers. In a way, I could cast the show from what I saw tonight. I'd just have to cross-cast a lot of actresses as tough-guy Roman soldiers (or politicians...or pirates ... hmm, lady pirates...).

I can't, of course, make any decisions until I've seen everyone. And it's hard to picture most of the supporting roles until I know exactly who is going to be playing the leads, especially the big three: Antony, Cleopatra, and Octavian.

But if tomorrow proves as profitable as tonight, I will have an abundance of talent to choose from. In fact, I may have to make some tough, tough choices...

Hide and Seek

2006-11-29T15:26:00.000-08:00

Here's a great practical example of how knowledge of the set design can help to solve a director's challenges, while simultaneously opening new avenues of exploration.

Antony & Cleo enter about ten lines into the play proper. Prior to that, a Roman soldier (Ventidius in my version) is moaning about how Cleo has turned Antony into a simpering girly-man instead of the mighty soldier he should be. When the two of them enter, they start talking about (what else?) their love. Cleo asks Antony to measure it for her; he cleverly evades this trap, and so on:

CLEOPATRA: If it be love indeed, tell me how much.

ANTONY: There's beggary in the love that can be reckoned. (or "measured" in my version)

CLEOPATRA: I'll set a limit on how far to love.

ANTONY: Then thou must needs find out new heaven, new earth.

The challenge is this: how do they enter? Side by side? Arm in arm? Or does Cleo walk ahead of Antony--since she is the Queen here, after all, and since she has the first line? Or should Antony lead, with Cleo following, begging for his love--putting the lie to what Ventidius has said about his diminished power?

Obviously, Shakespeare is no help in resolving this. Directors and actors can debate endlessly about who has the status, and how the audience should first be exposed to these central characters. The possibilities are almost limitless...

...until you have a set. And in our set, the central entrance is covered with an archway and a screen, which means that actors must walk around one side or the other (which I'll be calling Upstage Right and Upstage Left from now on) before they are visible to the audience. And since there are also pillars set along each side of the arch, the entryways are only about four feet across.

Now, having A&C enter side by side or arm in arm becomes a challenge. Not only do you have to decide which side of the arch to bring them in, but you also risk having them squeeze together most undecorously in order to get through the entryway. A grand, processional entrance is effectively out of the question.

So, one leads and the other follows? But which side of the arch do they enter from? A non-centralized entrance effectively weakens the impact of both characters. And (unlike my production of Lear last year) this play really doesn't feel like it moves in curves and spirals--it's more of a straight-on, right-angle kind of show. How can you bring on two characters from a non-centralized entrance but still have them dominate the stage?

The solution is practically self-evident. They enter at the same time--but they enter separately, coming around either side of the arch, creating a centralized movement between the two of them. This works visually, and it starts to say something about the characters as well (the fact that they treat each other as equals). But does it make sense to have two characters enter in mid-conversation, but from different entrances? How could that be explained?

A glance ahead a few pages provides the next solution. After the two of them have exited, Cleopatra re-enters (this is Act 1, Scene 2 in the original, although it will play straight through in my version). To Enobarbus, she asks, "Saw you my lord?"

ENOBARBUS: No, lady.

CLEOPATRA: Was he not here?

CHARMIAN: No, madam.

CLEOPATRA: He was disposed to mirth, but suddenly
A Roman thought did strike him.

Then, moments later, when Antony does arrive, Cleopatra characteristically changes her mind, and exits, saying "We will not look upon him."

What's going on here? Isn't it obvious? They're playing hide and seek. Although Antony's goals have started to shift (having received some upsetting news from Rome, as Cleopatra implies), Cleopatra continues the game, scurrying off as soon as Antony re-enters.

Applying this idea back to their first entrance, I find it delightfully concordant with the constraints of the set. The characters are engaged in an ongoing discussion (about their love), but they are also involved in an ongoing game of chase-me, chase-you, using the entire palace (or all of Alexandria) as their playground.

Obviously, this choice supports Ventidius's opinion (that Antony is not behaving like a soldier). But, curiously, it refutes his idea that Antony has somehow become subservient to Cleopatra. He is not "a strumpet's fool" if both of them are acting like fools to the same degree. The entrance will suggest fresh, unbridled love--but not, I think, in any way which will diminish the participants.

I love it when solutions just happen.

Blocking Friezes

2006-11-26T20:25:00.000-08:00

Earlier, I mentioned that I'd decided to add chorus speeches to the beginning of each act (since there will only be one intermission, there are only two acts in my version of the script). But I wanted to keep these speeches dramatic, somehow, so that the play did not begin with bland exposition. This is a bit of a balancing act; if you include a bunch of dumb-show action upstage during a speech, then your audience's focus will get split, and they won't hear the information you're trying to convey.

Thinking about the set design, I realized I have an opportunity for a sort of compromise--something half-way between an empty, lifeless stage and a bunch of action. See, the upstage walls will be backdrops, with pillars running a few feet apart from one another. The gaps between the pillars aren't quite wide enough to act as a "frame" for an entire tableau. But what if the space between each pillar could act as part of a frieze--that is, a series of frozen images (live actors in tableau) that unfold to make a story?

There are hundreds of examples of what I mean from classical artwork. A Greek or Roman vase will usually contain a story, told in a series of still images. Egyptian heiroglyphics do the same thing. A more modern equivalent would be the panels on the page of a comic book: each one tells a little bit more of the story; they're mostly visual, although they would work in tandem with the chorus to provide a complete narrative of past events.

Each upstage wall has three pillars, which means four spaces. How do you tell the "story" of the assassination of Julius Caesar in four still images? Keep in mind that each one could not involve more than a couple of people.

Panel One: Caesar enters the capitol, wreath on head, hand up, triumphant.
Panel Two: Brutus and Cassius stand close together, daggers peeking out of their togas.
Panel Three: Cassius stabbing Caesar. Caesar still stands upright, shock and rage on his face.
Panel Four: Now Caesar on his knees, Brutus poised to stab him. Caesar's disappointment and betrayal.

Of course, in the version of the chorus I have currently, this entire sequence of events is described in a two lines: "For, after Caesar cravenly was stabbed, / Betrayed by Brutus and his fellow blades--" So maybe it would be asking too much of the actors (and the audience) to move so quickly through so many panels. In which case, one might need to summarize the whole play of Julius Caesar instead:

Panel One: The assassination: Caesar and Brutus
Panel Two: Caesar's corpse, with Mark Antony crouching over it, thinking of vengeance
Panel Three: Caesar's ghost stands over Brutus. Brutus, racked with guilt, holds his sword above his own chest.
Panel Four: Antony stands over Brutus's body, maybe with Octavian as well

Or something like that. I might also incorporate the silhouette screen; we'll have to see. But I am intrigued with the "living frieze" idea--like ancient illustrations coming to life on stage.

Sooner or later, I'm going to have to stop mucking about with the chorus and get down to thinking about the actual play...

Images of Cleopatra

2006-11-21T16:12:00.000-08:00

I've been looking for neoclassical artwork--trying to find ways to incorporate their strict geometric compositions into my blocking (because, you know, I'm a masochist). Out of curiosity, I did a search for images of Cleopatra herself.

Fascinating to see how different eras interpreted this protean character. It seems like she could transform to suit the needs of just about any artistic movement.

Here's one I like by John Waterhouse (a pre-Raphaelite, though strongly influenced by neo-classicism).

Chorus

2006-11-19T14:32:00.000-08:00

Antony & Cleopatra doesn't have a Chorus. None of the Roman plays do, as Shakespeare preferred to use lower-class characters (citizens, servants, or, in the case of A&C, footsoldiers) to discuss current events. Thus, Act 1, Scene 1 of A&C begins with one of Antony's soldiers, Philo moaning to his friend Demetrius about their general's unmanly conduct in Alexandria:

PHILO: Nay, but this dotage of our general's
O'erflows the measure. Those his goodly eyes,
That o'er the files and musters of his war
Have glowed like plated Mars, now bend, now turn
The office and devotion of their view
Upon a tawny front. His captain's heart,
Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst
The buckles on his breast, reneges all temper
And is become the bellows and the fan
To cool a gipsy's lust.

The advantage of this dialogue-based opening is its dramatic momentum. It's driven by characters who have objectives--unlike a Chorus, whose only motivation for speaking is to inform the audience. It's a much punchier way to start a play, and most of Shakespeare's masterpieces begin like this (Hamlet, Othello, and perhaps most successfully, Macbeth).

The disadvantage is a greater risk of audience confusion. At lights up, they don't know who these two characters are (their costumes might identify them as Roman soldiers, but whose soldiers? And where are they?), and we don't know who they're talking about--"our general" in Line 1 refers to Antony, but since the characters both know who their general is, they have no practical need to identify him by name. Same with Cleopatra, who is referred to twice in the above speech: once as a "gipsy" and once as a "tawny front." These semi-derogatory terms are perfectly in character for the resentful Philo, but they don't serve the audience's first, most pressing need: to know what's going on, and who is being discussed.

There are several justifications for this potential ambiguity. The first is that Shakespeare's original audience would have been more familiar with these terms--they would have understood, for example, that "tawny" and "gipsy" both refer to Cleopatra's dark skin colour, which distinguishes her from Roman women. The second is that Shakespeare's audience knew more about the historical situation than most modern audiences do. This point is debatable; but at the very least, Shakespeare's audiences had already seen his play Julius Caesar, so they knew about the events leading up to A&C. Modern audiences are, sadly, out of touch with their classical history, and JC isn't produced as often as it used to be.

The third justification for Shakespeare's ambiguity is unapologetic: he enjoyed starting off a play with a mystery. If you force yourself to forget everything you know about Hamlet or Macbeth, and then read the first few pages of Act 1, Scene 1, you'll see how much is left unsaid. Ambiguity and mystery is one way of drawing an audience into the world of your play. And, in any case, the ambiguity about the "general" and the "gipsy" doesn't last long: within 10 lines, the two characters arrive on stage and begin acting out the passion that Philo is describing.

None the less, I am concerned enough about the play's beginning to have done the unthinkable: I've added to Shakespeare's script. I feel that A&C has altogether too much backstory, and that Shakespeare doesn't spoon-feed it to his audience (which is good), thus running the risk that modern audiences will tune out in frustration (which is bad). I could solve the problem in the same way that many other productions do, by writing some program notes; and I may do this as well.

But I've had some experience writing faux-Shakespearean verse, so I thought I'd try a more active solution. Starting off the play with a Chorus loses that dramatic immediacy; but it gives the uninitiated audience members some common ground, so that they are not dropped into totally unfamiliar territory. In fact, it struck me that a modern audience might like to have things start off with a familiar image: the assassination of Julius Caesar. Even those who haven't seen a production of Shakespeare's JC know about this historical event--and A&C emerges fairly directly from that incident. You need only mention Brutus's civil war and the establishment of the Triumvirate, and you're pretty much good to go.

Here's what I came up with. I haven't yet decided if I will have the speech accompanied by dumb-show scenes, or tableaux, or even slide projections--one way or another, it would be nice to give it a bit more dramatic motion. I'll probably write a Chorus piece for the top of the second act as well (approximately Act 3 in the original).

CHORUS: I dreamt there was an Emperor Antony.
‘Twas never so; not in our history.
For, after Caesar cravenly was stabbed,
Betrayed by Brutus and his fellow blades—
(A tale which our own author has described,
And many stages shown)—then there was war,
And Caesar’s spirit, ranging for revenge,
Did prowl the battlefield, and turn the swords
Of his assassins, guilty, on themselves.
Then rose in Rome a great confed’racy
Between three princes—the Triumvirate.
Great Caesar’s nephew, called Octavian,
Remained in Rome; and with him, Lepidus,
A grey reflection of an aging empire.
The third, Mark Antony: right hand of kings,
A peerless match in politics and war—
Brave Antony set forth to gird the borders
Of the sprawling Roman realm. Brave Antony,
Whose honour vaulted over mountaintops,
Whose majesty could have commanded all—
But first, he sailed to Egypt, where he met
The one force which surpasses honour, might,
Ambition, duty, death, the gods above—
In Egypt, mighty Antony met love.

Set into Motion

2006-11-16T11:44:00.000-08:00

Last night, I met with Sarah, the assistant director, and Alli, the set designer. Alli had a maquette of the set done up for us to admire. The simple, scale model, with its pillars and backdrops of construction paper, were more than enough to re-engage my imaginative brain. I realized that what was holding me back (other than an insanely busy schedule) was not knowing how everything would look. Obviously, I'll need other pieces of the puzzle--costumes, props, and oh yeah, actors--but having a set to play with in my mind is an important start.

The Walterdale Playhouse stage is a wedge, of sorts--a great big curved apron downstage, narrowing to a corner directly upstage. The back walls are brick, but they will be covered by backdrops, constructed out of flats and painted to resemble a vast, Mediterranean sky. In front of this broad backdrop, two rows of pillars (one might be painted onto the backdrop itself, but at least one row will be real). Upstage, the pillars will converge upon an arch, which from the sounds of things will contain a sort of screen, used to receive projections (more on this below). The arch-and-screen will cover the upstage exit (so it becomes, in effect, two entrances, as characters can come in around either side of it). There are also exits to the lobby on stage right and stage left, plus I talked Alli into adding a couple of "servant's exits" along each side of the backdrop. This makes a total of six entryways, which is plenty for my purposes.

The stage floor will be painted to look like water, possibly reflecting the pillars. Mostly, the centre & downstage space will be bare, but Alli has added one more set piece--a large trapezoidal block, about 5 feet wide and 3 feet high at its largest end. Based on the model, it looks like a cross between a divan and a sarcophagus. It's also sloped, so that it can create the effect of, say, a gangplank. Basically, it's a multi-purpose set piece, and once I convinced Alli to make it able to rotate, I began to see a million different uses for it. There aren't many moments in the play where characters have to sit or lie down (although Cleopatra could certainly afford to do some reclining from time to time), but having actors use the block for height and status could be very useful.

I mention the gangplank in particular because one of the challenges Alli was trying to resolve was the scene on Pompey's barge (it's Act 2, Scene 7 in the original, or Unit 16 in our script). In my revision, Pompey meets an untimely (and fictional) end, getting his throat cut and his body dumped overboard. The need to have an "overboard" onstage--that is, a thing behind or beneath which one could fall--led Alli to create the trapezoidal block (although there's not really much space behind it, so Pompey would still likely be visible to the audience once he fell).

But in a Shakespeare play space, like time, is fluid. The stage can represent a ship in one scene, and then dry land in the next--or can even shift within a single scene. And when I started to think about the possibilities of some of the other parts of Alli's set, I realized that a literal throat-cutting and overboard-dumping may not be necessary, or even ideal. I'm thinking now about that aforementioned screen upstage.

Roy Jackson, our lighting designer, is intrigued by the possibility of having projections be part of the show--possibly to reflect the shift in settings, or else simply to convey thematic moods. I like the idea, but once I saw the screen, I started to think about other ways in which it could be used. Two of my previous Shakespeare shows (Macbeth and Othello) have used back-lighting techniques to good effect. There's just something about the menace and anonymity of silhouettes and shadows that evokes the tragic mood. So I suggested to Alli that, when the screen wasn't being used to receive front-projected images, it might instead be used to receive back-projected silhouettes.

I haven't thought the idea through completely yet, but off the top of my head, there are at least two moments that could really benefit from being back-lit, instead of enacted directly onstage. The first is Pompey's murder: for one thing, a throat-cutting is far less effective onstage, when there's no blood; and, as I said, dumping the body becomes much easier when you don't have to worry about where the body ends up. With back-lighting, an actor can easily drop down beneath the throw of the lighting instrument, effectively disappearing from the projected image. Add in a "splash" sound effect, and you've got your dumped corpse.

But the other back-lighting moment that sprung to mind is, I think, the most profitable discovery of the evening. For weeks now, I've been going back and forth on one key question: to snake or not to snake? In other words, what should Cleopatra use as an asp in her death scene? In an intimate setting, rubber fake snakes ain't gonna cut it; they'll defuse the tension and grandeur of the moment in a heartbeat. But a real snake is infinitely more problematic for all sort of reasons. Even if there weren't any ophidiophobes in my cast, you can bet that, some night, someone in the front row will panic when that snake comes out. And sooner or later, you know it's going to escape from its cage...

What I need, then, is the illusion or suggestion of a real asp. And if I can't get that onstage, then the next best thing is to do it through back-lighting. I imagine Cleopatra proceeding up, behind the arch, in a stately fashion, speaking her lines...and as the back-light comes up, we see her lift her hands up, and we see the (rubber) snake twisting in her (expertly rehearsed) fingers... and if we never see the snake itself, then it will stand out that much stronger in our minds.

So that's the new plan. I still need to go back and examine the text, to see if that staging will work. And there are still plenty of other blocking challenges ahead--sequences I plotted out in my mind without knowing what my set would look like, which I now need to re-block (or even re-edit). But I've got a lot to play with, now.

Our Masthead

2006-10-19T16:36:00.000-07:00

Still very busy, but I have good news: Antony & Cleopatra finally has a production manager! Theresa Kind, who stage managed my Fringe show, has agreed to take on this vital task. Along with the director and the stage manager, the PM is one of the "holy trinity" of any theatre production; it is her job to gather designers and technicians and to supervise production meetings and budgetary issues. Hopefully, her arrival will make the team-building process much smoother and less stressful.

Speaking of our team, here it is, at the moment:

Director: Scott Sharplin
Assistant Director: Sarah van Tassel
Production Manager: Theresa Kind
Set Designer: Alli Ross
Lighting Designer: Roy Jackson
Sound Designer: Phil Kreisel

(I apologize if I've forgotten anyone!)

Full Speed Ahead, Slowly

2006-09-23T16:17:00.000-07:00

A long-overdue update: I've been busy, but A&C has not been my priority. The school term started three weeks ago, and I have a nearly full course load this year, teaching a couple of courses I haven't taught before. Busy, busy, busy.

Walterdale's season is also getting into gear, and there's an exciting buzz about the Playhouse. Our first show, Steel Magnolias, opens in just under a month, and from all reports, it's going very well. The cast and director are having a grand old time. We've also just finished casting Show #2, A Child's Christmas in Wales. The casting process was a bit stressful for me, because our director came on board rather late, and we still don't have a Musical Director (Interested? Know anybody? Give me a shout).

Plus, the show calls for a lot of children--which I somehow never realized until we were in the thick of auditions. I haven't worked much with kids--at least, not since I was one of them--so I felt a bit overwhelmed. But a quick trip to Vic, my old stomping grounds, reassured me; even though I'm no longer a kid, I still share the same enthusiasm for theatre that I had when I was 16. It gives me and the kids something in common, which makes me feel young.

Anyway, that show is cast, and rehearsals have begun. One more round of auditions (the hotly anticipated Les Liaisons Dangereuses), and then it's finally time for A&C to find a cast. In the meantime, I have confirmed Roy Jackson as our lighting designer, and welcomed Phil Kreisel on board as sound designer. Still required: a Production Manager, Stage Manager, Master Builder, and Costume Designer. Keep your eyes peeled!

Fringey Come, Fringey Go

2006-08-31T15:23:00.000-07:00

Sorry it's been awhile. I got distracted by (of all things) theatre -- a lot of it. The 25th anniversary Edmonton Fringe Festival wrapped up this weekend, and I'm only now starting to reorient myself and look towards future projects.

It was a great Fringe, by the way. Not only did my own play, Purity Test, receive a lot of good reviews and popular acclaim, but a lot of other local shows got showered with praise as well. It's a bit pointless to provide full coverage after the fact, but just for the record, some of the shows I enjoyed included How I Learned to Drive, Down Dangerous Passes Road, Tales of Death, Finer Noble Gases, How Not To Suck (featuring former Walterdale AD Sam Varteniuk), and Catch/Jolly Jumper. I also had a good time at the Fringe Forums, where artists and aficianadoes got together and debated the past, present, and future of Fringe.

In the midst of all this theatrical madness, plans were quietly being laid for Walterdale's next season. The new website is now up, and it looks lovely: you can visit it at www.walterdaleplayhouse.com. We're also just about to have auditions for our Christmas show, which is a musical adaptation of A Child's Christmas in Wales. Auditions are on September 10 and 11; if you want to come and try out, email Janet at j1h2a3@shaw.ca.

Antony and Cleopatra is still on my radar, but I doubt I'll have a lot of time to think about it soon, since I'm also just about to start my teaching term at Grant MacEwan. But when thoughts escape, I'll direct them here.

Utah vs. Stratford

2006-08-15T17:53:00.000-07:00

To add insult to injury, my wife just got back from a lengthy stay in England, during which she saw two productions of Antony & Cleopatra--one at the New Globe in London, and one in Stratford-on-Avon, starring the mightly Patrick Stewart! Both productions were strong ones, the Stratford show in particular. Sheila very considerately brought back programs, posters, and postcards from both shows--and will be providing detailed reports on both shows. But it's still ironic, I think, that we both flew out of Canada and saw A&Cs, and I ended up with the short end of the stick.

Utah, Part 2

2006-08-12T11:01:00.000-07:00

In my last post, I outlined some of the things that went wrong in the Utah Antony & Cleopatra. Here's one or two things they did right:

--The relationship between Octavius and Octavia. Even though neither actor was very strong, the director used blocking to communicate Octavius's reluctance to let his sister become Antony's wife. This is easy to overlook; but Octavius isn't the one who suggests the marriage (Agrippa does), and he spends almost exactly the same amount of time bidding farewell to Octavia as Antony does in a later scene (when he's planning to return to Egypt). The director kept having Octavius interpose himself between Octavia and Antony, until finally the frustrated Antony, crying "Come, sir, come, I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love" grabs Octavius and pulls him away. He turns it immediately into a joke, but it also served to reinforce Octavius's dislike and fear of Antony.

--Also, calling "Octavius" "Octavian." It's easier to say, especially the possessive.

--The scene in which Cleopatra learns that Antony has remarried (2.5), and the scene in which she quizzes a messenger about Octavia's appearance (3.3). Lots of inherent comic irony in these scenes, and a chance to show both the best and worst sides of Cleopatra. In Utah, the messenger was a great comic actor, easily tempted by offers of gold, and then terrified when he thinks he's said the wrong things. In 3.3, he kept looking back to Charmian and Iras before answering Cleopatra's questions:

CLEOPATRA: Is she as tall as me?
MESSENGER: She is... [Behind Cleopatra, Charmian and Iras shake their heads] not, madam.
CLEOPATRA: Didst hear her speak? Is she shrill-tongued or low?
MESSENGER: Madam, I heard her speak; she is... [Charmian and Iras gesture to the floor] low-voiced.

This went on until the Messenger, getting cocky, said, "And I do think she's thirty" in a sneering tone of voice that suggested any woman over thirty must be a hag. Cleopatra grew cold, and the Messenger tensed up, expecting another violent assault like the one in 2.5.

--The Soothsayer. In Utah, he was tall and thin, with dark circles underneath his eyes. He spent most of his scenes staring up at the sky (which, in the open-air pseudo-Globe, actually contained stars), and only reluctantly read Charmian and Iras's palms. His presence alone onstage book-ended the production, as if he were a reticent sort of chorus figure. But more interestingly, he reappeared twice in the second half of the play: once as part of the "hautboys" scene, and again disguised as the clown who brings Cleopatra's asps.

The "hautboys" scene (4.3) features Antony's night watchmen reacting to strange, ethereal music (according to Shakespeare's stage direction, "Music of the hautboys under the stage"--hautboys are like oboes). One soldier declares, "'Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony loved, now leaves him." In Utah, they gave this line to the Soothsayer--very clever, I think, since no ordinary soldier should be able to read such omens or portents.

As for the Soothsayer/Clown doubling, I had already planned to do that for practical purposes; but now it occurs to me that it might be valuable to make it plain that the Soothsayer is providing Cleopatra's means of achieving immortality. His lines are goofy (and not terribly funny, although the Utah audience did chuckle once or twice), but I think they could be delivered with a hidden earnestness that suggests the speaker knows Cleopatra's plan.

Humour in the play is a problem which I'll have to address sooner or later. I was very pleased with how much levity I could wring from King Lear--but then, that tragedy has a Fool as one of its major characters (for the first half of the play, at least). In this play, we have one Clown in one short sequence near the very end of the play--not enough laughter. Enobarbus may draw out a few guffaws, but even he gets pretty serious in a hurry.

Egypt in Utah

2006-08-10T20:09:00.000-07:00

Just got back from a three-day Shakespeare conference in Cedar City, Utah. I presented a paper on "Hamletmachines and CyberDanes" (something from my grad studies), but the main reason for going was not the paper, nor any of the other academic shenanigans. Mainly, I wanted to check out the Utah Shakespeare Festival, and in particular, to see their production of Antony & Cleopatra.

You see...big confession here...I'd never actually seen a live performance of the play until now. Hence the need to fly 500 miles (including one hop in a tiny twin propeller plane) to the hot red desert (not Egypt; the other one).

How was it? Well, Cedar City is pretty...and the conference was OK, although there were only a handful of papers about A&C--most of them dealing with film & TV versions, not stagings. The Shakespearean theatre was lovely, a quaint, open-air riff on the original Globe (without the "pit" for groundlings to stand in). I saw a very fun production of Merry Wives of Windsor...

And then there was A&C. Oh, dear. What a travesty. Antony was a hulking boor with a radio announcer's voice and a tendency to sway, as if drunk, even at the character's most sober moments. Cleopatra was a strong actress (she'd done a great job as Mistress Quickly the night before), but she seemed unfocused, shiftless--generally lacking in either authority or sex appeal. Octavius was similarly vague. Octavia was unspeakably bad. And the costumes...oh my god... it was like they threw every style from East Indian to Cavalier England into a tie-dye machine.

But a show with a few bad actors and a nightmarish design concept might still be saved, if the director knows what he or she is doing. This guy didn't. As a result, the blocking was mostly unmotivated (and poorly suited to the thrust stage), and the actors' gestures lacked specificity and realism. This trend reached its nadir when Cleopatra plucked a rubber asp out of the basket and held it like it was...well, a rubber toy, instead of a deadly serpent or her ticket to immortality.

Yipes. Just yipes.

For all that, there was a handful of interesting moments, and I feel no remorse about stealing or adapting them into my own production, mainly because I can't help feeling they were either accidental, or ripped off themselves. I'll describe a few of them shortly. I also have some reports from Sheila, my wife, who just got back from England, where she saw two productions of the play (at Stratford and the New Globe), both light years better than the one I suffered through.

Lighting Designer

2006-07-31T13:52:00.000-07:00

Another team member has come on board for Antony and Cleopatra: our lighting designer is none other than Roy Jackson, Walterdale's technical director and the guy who knows that venue better than anyone on earth. I think Alli's set and Roy's lights will make for an outstanding combo. Slowly but surely, the big picture comes into focus.

Cleo the Goddess

2006-07-27T14:14:00.000-07:00

Slowly reading Michael Grant's biography of Cleopatra. Early on, he describes the Ptolemaic dynasty of which Cleopatra was a part -- a Greek dynasty, descending from Alexander the Great, but having adopted many of the customs and beliefs of their Egyptian surroundings. One of these beliefs was that monarchs were the earthly manifestations of gods and goddesses -- both Greek gods, like Dionysus, and Eygptian ones, like Osiris and Isis (being the manifestation of more than one god sounds like a lot of work to me, but nobody said it was easy being queen!).

There are obvious political reasons for associating oneself with gods, but the practice had been ongoing for so long (inherited from the Pharoahs) that I can't help but wonder if the Ptolemies believed their own hype. Particularly someone like Cleopatra, who was born and raised to believe her father was the mortal embodiment of Dionysus, and that she would one day become queen, and therefore, a goddess also.

This seems relevant to the play, not because it feeds Cleopatra's ego (no need for help there), but because it reinforces the "immortal longings" which motivate her suicide. I keep coming back to that moment because -- well, partly because I'm afraid of it, but partly because it epitomizes the "larger-than-lifeness" that the play seems to demand. If Cleopatra has always believed that she was destined for godhead, then her decision to die may be misinformed, but it is far from cowardly.

What's more, I think her attitude constitutes a return to form. In the middle of the play, Cleo seems far from divinity, indeed -- capricious, jealous, unsure of herself and her love for Antony. But the ending must provide a restoration, in which Cleo can accept and embrace her love and all of the decisions she's made because of it, and incorporate all of that into her vision of herself as Isis.

(On another note, Grant comments on the Ptolemaic inclination towards incest, and speculates that "certain elements in her character may have been due to this persistent in-breeding -- notably her total absence of moral sense, and a tendency to murder her brothers and sisters which may have been partly an inherited family habit." Sounds like her gene pool had a crocodile problem!)

Purity Test Website Up

2006-07-21T22:07:00.001-07:00

Hey, the first online sign of life for my Fringe show has arrived. Our producer, Michael Cowie, has designed a lovely, funky little site for Purity Test, which is running August 17-26, 2006. More information about Purity Test will follow here...but if you're impatient, you can visit the site at www.puritytest.ca.

And if you have no idea what a purity test is, you're in for a dirty treat!

A&C: First Set Meeting

2006-07-12T16:25:00.000-07:00

I met with Alli Ross, the set designer, for the first of what I'm sure will be many fruitful design meetings.

We agreed that a nautical theme was a good place to start, although the set obviously needs flexibility or abstraction, to keep audiences from thinking that the whole play takes place on a ship. Alli is keen on using one or more broad white sheets to simulate sails; she described a process that could be used to fix them in a "billowing" shape, so that they wouldn't require wind to look full. We also talked about using the cyclorama, or cyc, to project various background lighting effects (warm sunset colours for Alexandria, cool blue skies for Rome). I've never done a show with the cyc before, so that will be neat.

As for the stage itself, we agreed that platforms are de rigeur. Alli suggested jutting wooden platforms that resemble gangplanks (or just plain planks). I agreed, adding that "as long as they're big enough to fit three or four actors standing close together," we should ideally have a number of them, set at different levels around the stage (this, again, is ship-like, and it can also simplify issues of rank and status when it comes to blocking).

I am picturing more and more of these tight clusters of people, now. My earlier neuroses about not having enough bodies to suggest armies has given way to a fairly basic principle of composition: three or four actors in a very tight cluster looks like a juggernaut, especially when contrasted to a solitary figure placed elsewhere on the stage.

Lots of possibilities emerge: when Antony is in Alexandria, his status is visually weakened because his soldiers tend to stand apart from him, whereas Cleo's retinue always sticks very close beside her (I'm even picturing them standing in a vertical line, waving their arms like Vishnu). In Rome, Antony and Octavius both have bodyguards who stick to them like glue, but gradually Antony's "mass" begins to shrink, while Octavius's only expands. At the climax, when Octavius captures Egypt, Cleo's maidens may be scattered...but when it comes time for her to kill herself, they reunite to create a living frame for Cleo's picture-perfect suicide.

Lots of good stuff to ponder, when I have the time...

Cleopatra the Junkie?!

2006-07-10T21:39:00.000-07:00

I've been watching the excellent HBO television series "Rome," which traces the same history as Shakespeare's two high Roman plays, Julius Caesar and Antony & Cleopatra. It's only one season old, and it's taking its time to arrive at the events which Shakespeare used as his focus -- but that's probably a good thing, since it's also telling a number of other stories amongst the lower ranks, all of which are just as interesting.

I've just seen Episode 8, "Caesarion," where Cleopatra is introduced. Julius Caesar has come to Alexandria in pursuit of his Roman enemy, Pompey Magnus, and ends up interceding in a family dispute amongst the Ptolemy dynasty. He sides with Cleopatra because, well, who wouldn't?

The first impression of Cleopatra is not a favourable one. She is disoriented, flighty, and when men come to assassinate her in her tent, she barely seems to care. She is, we quickly learn, an opium addict.

Now, I must admit to being a bit remiss on my history. For two months now, I've had a biography of Cleopatra by Michael Grant sitting on my shelf, but I haven't had the time to crack it open. I can't speculate (yet) whether this detail is historically accurate. I know the next one definitely isn't: at the urging of her slave woman, she has sex with a centurion so she will conceive a child, which she will later announce is Caesar's son.

I have absolutely no objection to the series playing fast and loose with historical details. In a lot of ways, it's part of the fun (especially since we know the centurion she picks). What I'm more concerned with is the way Cleopatra is portrayed here. "Rome" is full of scheming, conniving men and women, many of whom use sex for political ends. Cleopatra should, in that respect, be no exception. Why, then, have they made her an air-headed junkie? Why does she need her slave woman to tell her what would be politically expedient?

She's young, I guess -- another historical detail which many (including Shakespeare) overlook. But I must confess to being disappointed; I had hoped that, after 7 episodes of reptilian Roman politics, Cleo would slither in and out-snake them all. Maybe that will come.

In the meantime, James Purefoy's Mark Antony is a splendid bastard, more unscrupulous than a boatload of Cleopatras (Cleopatrae?), and revelling in his bastardy to boot. I look forward to seeing how the character evolves once Caesar gets the chop.

Shows to See

2006-06-29T22:26:00.000-07:00

I have realized that reserving this blog exclusively for content which pertains to Antony & Cleopatra isn't paying off. My A&C brainstorms aren't coming often enough to justify its existence. And besides, I chose the name "Stage Whispers" so I could comment on anything theatre related (with particular focus on Walterdale's upcoming season, which has the same name). If I'd wanted an exclusively A&C-related blog, I would have called it "Salad Days."

So here are notes about a couple of other shows in town which anyone who happens to be reading ought to see..

First, the last show of my first season at Walterdale is running until July 8...and it's fantastic! Actually, it's The Fantasticks, the smash hit Broadway musical that ran for 45 years or some insane length. My beloved Grade 8 Language Arts teacher introduced me to this play, and it feels like a weirdly satisfying personal achievement to have been instrumental in bringing it to life. It's a very sweet, charming, high-spirited and good-hearted play, and this production (directed by Martin Galba) has a lot of lovely touches, including some big show-stopping numbers where so much is going on all over the stage that you want to be able to hit rewind and watch it again.

On the other end of the comic-tragic spectrum, I went to the opening night performance of Free Will Players' Hamlet in Hawrelak Park. John Kirkpatrick plays Hamlet, and he's one of the most energetic and accessible Danes I've seen (and I've seen plenty in my time). I also loved the costume design, especially Julien Arnold's Ghost costume -- he's a bronze statue come to life (well, not quite life...he is a ghost, after all). The first half of the production took H's line "Time is out of joint" literally: the clock above the stage kept spinning and skipping, and several scenes involved "time jumps," with the actors "rewinding" and playing snatches of lines again. It was an inventive device (reminded me of Donnie Darko), and I wish they'd found a way to make use of it in the second half too (imagine sword-fighting done backwards!).

I recommend both shows--although I have to give preference to The Fantasticks, of course, since it's my baby.

Cleopatra's Victory

2006-06-20T16:41:00.000-07:00

Here, alas, is another writer whose views of the play I find totally at odds with my own.

Thomas Price's book Dramatic Structure and Meaning in Theatrical Productions attempts the unthinkable: it creates a system with which to classify absolutely every play written. It's written like a logical syllogism; one of the theorems is about Action. I'll translate the theory-speak as we go along:

"The dramatic character's overriding wish [ie. their objective] must be deduced from a realistic assessment of his actions, just as his success or failure at attaining that wish must be determined from his deeds within the larger context of action and counteraction. Errors in dialectical placement will otherwise often result from taking too seriously either the character's own rationalizations for his actions."

Still there? Essentially, Price is saying that deeds speak louder than words. So far I agree; drama is about action, and it's way too easy for a character to talk about accomplishing great things while doing absolutely nothing (Falstaff bounds to mind).

Where Price and I part ways is the section where he uses Cleopatra as an example of a character whose self-justifying language misleads the audience into thinking she's achieved her goal:

"Commentators have ... allowed their judgment of the drama's action to be distorted by the Egyptian queen's eloquence ... [their] approaches to the play are predicated on two unspoken assumptions, namely, that poetical rationalizations for deeds are more important than the deeds themselves, and that the love-death motif automatically infuses the work with an ethos that elevates Cleopatra and her concubine to the status of true martyrs. Slighting the drama's actual events, such critics choose to discount the unromantic Octavius' dialectical victory."

Translation: first, Cleopatra talks big, but all she's really doing is taking the easy way out -- what Price later calls "the least painful possible of suicides." Second, Cleopatra isn't scoring any sort of victory by cheating Octavius of his famous prisoner. But she spins such a great speech that everyone onstage, and everyone in the audience, misses the fact that Octavius wins. Which, according to Price's methodogy, makes him the protagonist of the play.

Why is everyone so determined to take Cleopatra down a peg?

Octavius isn't the protagonist of Antony & Cleopatra. Price can produce as many dialectical studies as he likes, but no audience will ever find themselves rooting for him, no matter how sympathetic the actor who plays him is. And even though he's the last monarch standing, he doesn't win. If his objective were to conquer Egypt, then yes, he gets what he wants. But it's not. His objective is to conquer Cleopatra.

Does Cleopatra take the easy way out? As Price points out, the final scene contains a lot of negotiatons between Cleo and Octavius that make her seem very petty and cowardly. But it's equally possible to read these sequences as a ruse, another one of Cleopatra's mind-games -- not only buying herself time and space but actively persuading Octavius to assume that she will not attempt suicide. Because after all, what suicidal queen would try to hide money from her conqueror?

Cleo's suicide is not a gesture of defeat. She is actively accomplishing the things she has sought throughout the play. It's what Price dryly calls the "love-death ethos" -- Cleo wants to be with Antony forever, in a boundless and eternal expression of their love for one another. The only way to do this is to join him in heaven. But it's even cleverer than that; by choosing to die in a spectacularly memorable fashion (who cares if it's painless or not?), Cleo is assuring her place in the history books -- and denying Octavius a place (as Cleo's conqueror):

CLEO (to the asp): O, couldst thou speak,
That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass
Unpolicied!

In a nutshell, Cleopatra's objective trumps Octavius'. She wants her love to be immortal. Does she achieve it? The very existence of the play itself says yes. The fact that it's still being produced, the fact that any 10-year-old knows who Cleopatra was (and most 40-year-olds have never heard of Octavius), says yes.

So, rag on Antony all you like. He's got plenty of shortcomings. But lay off Cleopatra, already! Geez!

The Masks of A&C

2006-06-15T15:26:00.000-07:00

Marvin Rosenberg was an esteemed Shakespeare scholar with an unusual critical approach: his series of "Masks" books ("The Masks of Hamlet," "The Masks of Macbeth," etc.) compiled an impressive range of commentary on production techniques and staging approaches. Instead of speculating about the "ideal production" (as far too many scholars do), Rosenberg beat the bushes until he found a sufficiently broad sampling of moments from actual productions. Only once he had this stage-based evidence in hand did he start to speculate about what Shakespeare might have intended with any given play, scene, character, or line.

For a director, these books are a gold mine of great staging ideas, ripe for the stealing. I made good use of "The Masks of King Lear" in last season's production, and I was disappointed that Rosenberg had died without publishing a volume on A&C.

And then, my Shakespeare listserv informed me that "The Masks of Antony & Cleopatra" had just been published posthumously! That's the good news. The bad news is, it's a massive hardcover volume, and it's priced for academics, not for freelance directors like myself. I'll have to poke around local libraries to see if volumes appear soon enough to make any use of them.

Redgrave on Cleopatra

2006-06-05T19:52:00.000-07:00

Vanessa Redgrave has, it turns out, played Cleopatra five times, and directed the play at least once. You'd think her insight into the Egyptian queen would be tremendous. Not so much.

She certainly gets off to a good start by making the comparison between Cleo and Elizabeth I; yes, I agree, that's probably what Shakespeare had in mind. The problem is, she seems to get stuck there. She does admit that her "view of Cleopatra is that of an Englishwoman," but surely there must be something more resonant in Cleopatra's character than a portrait of a 400-year-old royal spinster.

Things get worse. She observes that Cleopatra has a strong combination of "sophisticated intelligence and simple, direct humanity"; she thinks that Cleo can see through Antony's political posturing, and knows that he doesn't truly love her; but then she maintains that Cleo loves him anyway, even when he threatens to kill her. This doesn't sound like sophisticated intelligence to me; it sounds like a victim of psychological abuse. Worse yet, Redgrave writes, "She is frail in that she fears violence, and turns her ships away from battle because she is -- a woman."

But where I part company from her entirely is when she describes Cleopatra's suicide as a mundane gesture, achieving "the true nobility of seeing herself as merely a woman." Based on what she's already written, I'm afraid I don't see the nobility of womanhood; but never mind. The fact is, Cleopatra's death transcends humanity; she is becoming immortal, becoming a goddess, and rising, not falling, to meet her dead lover. Her reputation is going to live forever, and she knows it. Her death is not an ending, but a beginning.

Redgrave does include a short final chapter with some useful observations about the political, economic and scientific status of Egypt in Roman times; and she draws a very lovely parallel between Antony's descent into superstition (and the power of superstition to defeat science) and the witch-hunts and persecutions of James I. Not much of that is inherently playable, however. I was hoping for some cogent acting tips beyond "sophisticated intelligence and simple, direct humanity."

If there's one thing which Cleopatra never, ever, ever is, it's SIMPLE!

Antony's Arc

2006-06-04T13:03:00.000-07:00

My mind has been elsewhere (along with my body; I've been on a writing retreat), so I haven't written much lately. But rescripting proceeds apace, and I'm managing to adhere to my own strict requirements of cast size and running time. I start to realize now that I'm worrying far too much about the literal size of armies onstage. Theatrical audiences are trained to understand that one or two soldiers stand in for an army, just like a throne stands for a court, or a man with a ring of keys stands for a prison.

Meanwhile, I've started reading Vanessa Redgrave's thin volume on A&C, which was published by Faber and Faber as part of their "Actors on Shakespeare" series (Redgrave directed A&C, and starred as Cleopatra, in Houston in 1997). Her first, surprising, assertion about Antony's character is that he doesn't love Cleopatra -- at least, not at first:

"The text in my view reveals a man who is fascinated, impressed, knows how to flatter a queen, and is not in love."

Antony's skill in flattery is an extension of the diplomacy which keeps him alive throughout Julius Caesar, and the political manipulation that empowers him to turn the citizens against Brutus in his famous "Friends, Romans, countrymen" speech. And it certainly makes sense that the middle-aged general would bring that same acumen with him to Egypt. But does that really mean he doesn't love her?

Assuming that he doesn't, the next question is: why doesn't Cleopatra see this? She is, after all, as much a political animal as he is? I wonder if it's possible that both of them think they are fooling/controlling the other, trying to maintain an emotional distance while drawing their partner deeper into their political webs. If this is the case, Antony breaks free of Cleopatra's control as early as Act One, when he learns of Fulvia's death and decides to return to Rome.

But something happens to him while he's away from Egypt. Redgrave hasn't put her finger on it yet -- and, indeed, I think Shakespeare is a bit cagey about exactly when it happens. But clearly, Antony finds it impossible to get Cleopatra out of his mind, and at some point he must realize that he really is in love with her, after all. It is this movement that provokes Antony's doubts and causes his missteps in later acts.

Redgrave writes that Act III, Scene vii "illustrates the change that has come upon him -- from his confidence in Athens in the preparations for the coming war (in Act III, scene iv) to his present doubts surrounding the outcome of the battle." Is it a superstitious fear of Octavius that causes this (he does comment on Octavius's daunting luck)? Or an aging man's fear of youth? Or is it because he knows that he can no longer wage war with the fearlessness that soldiers need -- because he now has something to lose, or something to go back to when the fight is over?

If I had to pick a moment when his eyes are opened to his love for Cleopatra, it would be Act II, scene vii -- the remarkable banquet scene aboard Pompey's galley. Cleopatra isn't mentioned in this scene, but Antony must surely feel her absence at a feast of such bacchanalian intensity. As Lepidus quizzes him about Egyptian geography and zoology, he responds in riddles that seem to evoke his inability to articulate (or forget) Cleopatra's greatness:

LEPIDUS: What manner of thing is your crocodile?
ANTONY: It is shaped, sir, like itself, and it is as broad as it hath breadth. It is just so high as it is, and moves with its own organs. It lives by that which nourisheth it, and the elements once out of it, it transmigrates.
LEPIDUS: What colour is it of?
ANTONY: Of its own colour too.
LEPIDUS: 'Tis a strange serpent.
ANTONY: 'Tis so, and the tears of it are wet.

Set Design: First Email

2006-05-10T13:45:00.001-07:00

My email to Alli (with the script enclosed):

A couple of notes re: set. There are a number of banquets, and a number of battle scenes. For both, I think it would be fine to create the impression that a lot of the action is taking place just offstage (in fact, I've structured the battle scenes to suggest exactly that). That's not to say that we cannot have a banquet table onstage--but it may be equally effective to have the banquet goodies paraded across, from one exit to another. What we probably will need is a number of vantage points, where soliders can look out at the action of a battle, etc.

Two particular challenges spring to mind. The end of Act One (Units 15-16 in my script) is set on a ship. At one point, somebody gets assassinated and dropped into the water. So we'll need some sort of elevation, and a place where an actor can "fall" and disappear.

Similarly, the end of Act Two (Unit 32) involves a famous and annoying scene where Cleopatra and her servants are "aloft" in her "monument" (probably a tower of some sort) and Antony (dying from a self-inflicted wound) is "raised aloft" by soldiers, so that Cleo can kiss him farewell. I say it's annoying because, well, lifting actors anywhere is troublesome on a good day. And here, we need a platform with some sense of height to it, which is large enough to contain Cleo, her servants (2-4), and Antony, lying prone.

So I guess what this all adds up to is: levels. Having pointed out the ship scene, I think it would be a lovely challenge to go somewhat nautical with the whole set (a lot of the play's language is about seafaring and oceans). But of course, most of the play properly takes place on dry land, either in Rome or Egypt--usually hopping back and forth between the two with dizzying rapidity.

Welcome to the world of Shakespearean setting.

21st Century Cleo

2006-05-09T20:23:00.000-07:00

Spoke a bit more with Alli last night, at the One Acts opening night reception (the show is going well, by the way, but the houses are small; come see it, everybody!). She confessed to having done a bit of reading and research on A&C since the last meeting, which I took to mean she's pretty much on board.

"I've seen pictures of productions where Cleopatra looked like she was wearing some sort of 18th century dress," she said. "Why would they do that?"

Good question. Lots of Shakespeare plays get set in lots of crazy times and places, but this one doesn't strike me as inherently transplantable. Never the less, I cooked up a half-baked explanation on the spot, because, well, I'm a windbag: "I think in Shakespeare's time, Cleopatra was meant to have a particular resonance for his audiences. They had just lived through the reign of an exceptional female monarch, so I think Cleopatra probably reminded them of Elizabeth, and Shakespeare meant it that way. So...maybe other, later productions also associate Cleopatra with contemporary figures."

A good theory, I think, in retrospect. But it begs the question: who does Cleopatra resonate with today? I'm not suggesting that I dress her up like some contemporary celebrity or other (especially if the rest of the design stays Roman/Egyptian). But I do think that audiences like to be shown glimpses of their own historical moment reflected in Shakespeare's dazzling stage mirrors. So who would we be reflecting to them?

Antony could be any number of young, ambitious military or political figures. But there seems to be a shortage of female potentates in this day and age. Well, if Cleopatra can't be found in the corridors of political power, how about cultural power? Do any of Hollywood's stars measure up? Is Madonna the new Cleopatra? Angelina? Demi Moore? (shudder) Reese Witherspoon?

Or, I suppose, another way to look at it would be: if they were making another Cleopatra film, who could they cast who would do the role justice?

Any suggestions?

Potential Set Designer

2006-05-06T12:07:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile since I've had a chance to think about A&C; I moved this month, plus Walterdale has a show opening in, like, days: The Evening of One Acts. Come and check it out! Three very neat new plays by local writers. It runs from May 8-13, 8pm nightly.

We're also starting to make plans not only for our next season (which is poised to launch; the brochures are done, and they look great), but also for our 50th Anniversary Season, which is in 3 years. I won't be the AD by then (it's a two year term), but I will be in on a number of the early fundraising activities, including a fashion show gala which is currently being planned for late April 2007. Since that's right after A&C closes, I suggested that the set for A&C might conceivably be servicable for the fashion show as well (I was completely talking out of my ass, but since I'd already nixed suggestions to hold the fashion show this fall, I was trying to be accomodating).

This led to questions about the nature of A&C's set. I stuttered something about levels and ramps, and then I realized that, right there at that very Fundraising committee meeting, I was sitting across from Alli Ross, one of Walterdale's foremost set designers. She did this year's set for You Can't Take It With You, and even built a set once for a show I wrote (Peep Hole Stories).

"Say," I said, as subtle as ever, "You and I should talk about sets sometime."

"Sure," was her reply, "I'd love to work on Antony & Cleopatra. It's the right time of year for me."

And that was that. I think. Sometimes Walterdale members leap onto a wagon before they've really had a chance to see where it's going, so I won't hold her to any promises if she checks her schedule (or reads my blog) and then decides to back out. But it would be excellent to work with Alli again...and since I gather she usually works with master Master Builder Joe Isserliss, that may mean I'll soon have two team members already in place!

How to REALLY Scare A Costume Designer

2006-04-20T10:54:00.000-07:00

Now, I realize, if I'd really wanted to terrify Geri, I should simply have shown her this photo of Theda Bara as Cleopatra, and said, "I want it exactly like this!"

How to Scare Away A Costume Designer

2006-04-12T15:41:00.000-07:00

I had a chat recently with Walterdale's resident costume goddess, Geri Dittrich. She just finished designing costumes for The Skin of our Teeth (including utterly fabulous dinosaur and mammoth costumes!), and I caught her momentarily at rest between projects. Geri has been a costume dynamo at the Playhouse for years, often working single-handedly late into the night to indulge the whims of eccentric directors like me.

I knew that Geri had already expressed an interest in designing Les Liaisons Dangereuses, and since that show will be running just before A&C, I didn't think it was fair to expect her to do two complex shows in a row. But since she knows Walterdale's wardrobe inventory better than anyone, I figured I should pick her brain on behalf of whoever happens to be my designer.

"No togas," she said, before I even got a full sentence out. "We could build some, pretty easy, but there's nothing to start from. Will we need a lot?"

I refrained from giving her the full details of the casting conundrum. Instead, I told her it was a big cast, but that we could afford to double-up and re-use a lot of basic costume components throughout the show. But even as I was saying this, I knew it might not be the case; you see, I've had a costume concept brewing in my back-brain for awhile, and I realized that I might, even now, be making unofficial commitments which would determine the design direction of the show. If I wanted to make my crazy, half-formed idea work, I would have to articulate it now, right now, or else forget about it.

So I took a deep breath, and said, "Basically, I think there are three ways to go with this show." This was my way of softening the blow, I think, because I'd save the really crazy idea for last.

"First, we could do it all in period: Roman and Egyptian, togas and robes." Geri interrupted here to speculate on where we might be able to rent or borrow some togas. Lots of churches, apparently, retain stocks of Roman costumes, for Passion plays and the like.

"Um...the show goes up in mid-April. Just after Easter." I winced. So much for that.

I pressed on. "Option number two would be somewhat abstract: you know, a more conceptual design that doesn't rely on any specific period. See, I was sort of thinking, these characters tend to think of themselves as sort of larger-than-life, you know, like Greek gods or something..." This petered out quickly, since I didn't really have much of an idea here--and besides, as Geri was quick to point out, Greek gods wore togas too, or toga-like robes. What's the difference?

Okay. Another deep breath, damn the practicalities, here goes: "The third option is really ambitious. I kind of see these characters as taking huge strides, making enormous gestures, right? So I thought that maybe their steps could sort of...transcend history. Or move across different time periods. So that Act One might be set in Rome and Egypt, right, but by Act Two or Three, we've sort of moved into another time--medieval, maybe, or the Renaissance. And then another leap, and we're in the Napoleonic wars. And then maybe we end up in World War II, or something. Basically," I quickly added, "we draw on whatever periods we have costumes for, in the wardrobe, already." Ah! There, a practical justification for what was, otherwise, a completely daft request.

There was more to this concept, but I felt I should stop there. I didn't tell her about the image I had of a triumphant Octavius descending upon Alexandria in Act Five like George W. Bush stepping onto the aircraft carrier in full flight gear, declaring "Mission Accomplished!" Nor did I mention a potential to loop back in time when Cleopatra says, "Give me my robe. Put on my crown. I have immortal longings in me."

And I should have said that, actually, because it's really the word immortal that clinches this whole concept for me: the idea that Antony and Cleopatra know they'll live forever, if only in legend, and that the world moves too slowly for titans like them. "I dreamt there was an emperor Antony ... his legs bestrid the ocean ... " Yes, and his glories are larger than any one empire or civilisation or time can contain.

I should have said all that, because Geri's a smart cookie and I think she would have understood where I was coming from. As it was, all I really left her with was the crack-pot notion of costuming one show four times over. Maybe, once I secure my own costume designer, I can set it all out in a way that makes sense.

Although, even then, and no matter how many damn time periods I try to cram into one play, sooner or later we're still going to have to find, or build, some togas.

Season Brochure Photo

2006-04-10T11:43:00.000-07:00

This weekend, a group of Walterdale regulars gathered for a photoshoot. We'll use the posed photos in our season brochure--once again, the theme and the motif is "Stage Whispers."

The photo of Cleopatra was the best of the bunch, and I thought I'd reproduce it here. The gorgeous gal in the headdress is Christine Frederick; her whispering confidante is Janine Hodder.

The Problem of Scope

2006-04-04T14:44:00.000-07:00

I realized that both of my recent dilemmae (concerns about cast size and the number of soldiers onstage, and concerns about sets and geographic distances) are issues of scope. Not the mouthwash; I mean "the sweep or reach of mental activity, observation, or outlook."

Most of Shakespeare's tragedies are both microcosmic and macrocosmic at once with respect to social events and their consequences. In Lear, family squabbles (macrocosmic society) lead to the collapse of a kingdom, and maybe the end of civilisation (microcosmic social order).

I don't think Antony & Cleopatra really has much in the way of microcosm, though. It's all big. In this play, relationships that we tend to think of in small, intimate terms are still writ large: Antony and Cleopatra's adulterous relationship, for instance, never seems like a "quickie" or a dalliance, or anything remotely small and sordid. Similarly, Antony's remarriage to Octavia is a political maneouvre, and everyone acknowledges it as such; it's not designed to provide Antony with domestic bliss, it's designed to lend Rome some stability.

I'm reminded of the Greek gods, whose smallest gestures can level mountains or demolish cities. These characters have either deluded themselves into thinking that they are the earthly equivalent of gods...or else they really are the earthly equivalent of gods. Even though Shakespeare is quick to point out their mortal foibles and shortcomings, I think he still inclined towards the latter. After all, isn't Zeus a randy bastard, and isn't Hera a jealous and vindictive wife?

So, one way or another, the play needs scope. So far I've been thinking about it in fairly realistic (if impractical) terms: scope equals lots and lots of soldiers, scope equals vast exotic settings... you know, Lawrence of Arabia-style scope. But I don't think it's gonna happen. So I need some other way to convey scope, and the macrocosmic sweep of the play. What are some metaphors for "big"?

(I just had an image of a stage floor shaped like the apex of a globe, curving down in all directions, with the continents and oceans painted on. "His legs bestrid the ocean"...)

Setting the Scene

2006-03-31T15:41:00.000-08:00

Antony and Cleopatra takes place all over the Mediterranean basin. Most of it takes place either in Rome or in Alexandria, but Shakespeare seemed to feel a rather uncharacteristic need for historical and geographical accuracy when he was writing this play, so he sends his characters on errands to Athens and Parthia, and sets battles in Actium and Thessaly. You almost need a big map in the program, so audiences can connect the dots.

There's a good thematic reason for this geographic abundance: the stakes of the little love-game being played out are enormous. One of the most oft-repeated words in the play is "world." Shakespeare doesn't want us to forget that these are the titans of their time, and the scope of their actions and decisions are tremendous. Antony, Octavius and Pompey are engaged in the first and only live-action version of Sid Meyer's Civilisation (or Risk, for the non-geeks among us).

Shakespeare never intended any of his exotic locales to get reproduced onstage. His stage was a bare platform, and the only sets and settings were in the imaginations of his audiences. That's why he had the luxury of leaping back and forth across two continents throughout the play; there was nary even a potted plant or a cardboard tree to transplant.

Many modern productions of Shakespeare's plays adopt the same minimalist approach, or else they settle on a single, flexible--often abstract or impressionistic--set where all the scenes will occur. Gone are the days of massive backdrops and ten-minute set changes (popular with the Victorians, who loved their historical realism). Any sane producer, looking at a play like Antony & Cleopatra, would agree: this play has to take place nowhere, so it can take you anywhere.

The only problem with this is: the Walterdale community loves to build sets. Well, they gripe and moan about it an awful lot, but underneath they love it. What's more, they're really, really good at it. The sets for Lear and Skin of our Teeth were, quite simply, some of the best sets I've ever seen on stage. Our designers are inventive, our builders are tireless, and unlike most theatre companies in town, we actually have robust production budgets.

What we do not have, because of the configuration of our Playhouse, are wings or a fly gallery. That means we can build huge, elaborate sets, but they have nowhere to go. Neither do we have a curtain to close; so even if we wanted to shift our set around, we couldn't hide it from the audience. As a result, Walterdale has developed an aesthetic for "box sets": highly detailed, usually highly realistic, and utterly immobile sets.

By now, you can probably start to see the dilemma. I have an opportunity to make this production the big, elaborate, glamorous affair that it deserves to be. But the nature of the play, and the nature of the playhouse, are contradictory. A&C can't take place in a "box set", but that's the only set we could create that would do a play like this justice.

I'm sure there's a solution. Like my last dilemma (the size of armies), it may involve puppets. I hope not. In any case, I suspect it will take a while to come into focus.

Updates and Seasons

2006-03-23T10:29:00.000-08:00

I feel as though I've been neglecting the few of you who check here regularly, so here's an update on my various theatrical adventures. Even though the next Walterdale show is poised to open (it's Thornton Wilder's Skin of our Teeth, and it's going to be breathtaking, so check it out), I've been primarily preoccupied with putting together the show after that, which is our Evening of One Acts. It's a bit like running a miniature theatre festival--which I've done before, actually, although not in a long while. Mainly it's just a question of trying to balance the needs of the playwrights with the habitual production demands of Walterdale shows. More on these plays later, as they take shape.

Last weekend, I ditched Walterdale altogether and went down to Banff for a board retreat for Alberta Playwrights Network. Our mission was nothing less than total reassessment of everything the organization stands for and everything it does. This turned out to be a bit hefty for me, because, although I've used APN's services a lot over the years, I only joined their board last month--yet here I was, one of five guys in a room trying to plot a long-term future for the 21-year-old institution. It ended up being exhiliarating and very productive--but anyone who wasn't a playwright may have found the semantic haggling a little more frustrating.

The APN re-structuring will continue for awhile (more board meetings and retreats will follow), and we'll hopefully unveil our new approach to play development sometime this fall.

And speaking of unveiling, I might as well spill the beans on next year's Walterdale season. We're technically not announcing the season until May, but buzz has already begun to circulate around the Playhouse, as actors stumble upon the cardboard box filled with photocopied scripts. I don't mind if the word begins to spread; it's more exciting for everybody if it's supposedly a secret.

So, here's the secret. I don't have the exact dates in front of me, so you'll have to check the Walterdale website after May if you want to mark them all down in your calendar (which you should):

#1: Steel Magnolias by Robert Harling
October 2006

#2: A Child's Christmas in Wales (a musical version based on the story by Dylan Thomas)
December 2006

#3: Les Liaisons Dangereuses by Christopher Hampton
February 2007

#4: Antony & Cleopatra by William Shakepseare
April 2007

#5: From Cradle to Stage: Three New One Act Plays
May 2007

#6: The Trial of Salome by Scott Sharplin
July 2007

That's right, I got my Antony & Cleopatra. And I even managed to smuggle on of my own scripts into the mix too. I think it will be a strong season for Walterdale, and one that both our members and our audiences will enjoy; but I don't mind telling you, it's a pretty Sharplin-friendly season as well. What can I say? I love what I do, so I do what I love.

Approved!

2006-03-13T15:11:00.000-08:00

The Walterdale board met last night to decide next year's season. It was an exciting and challenging process, but I think we managed to address and resolve most of the thorny issues. As it turned out, the focus was almost entirely upon other plays and scheduling issues, and Antony & Cleopatra slipped through with nary a comment.

I'd like to claim that was my deliberate strategem--to get A&C a green-light using my powers of misdirection--but in truth, it just worked out like that. But I'm certainly not complaining; and now I can stop thinking of the show as merely an idea, and start approaching it like a bona fide project.

Once the scheduling wrinkles have all been worked out, I'll post the entire season here. The official season announcement probably won't occur until May, but I need to offer some kind of incentives for people to read my blog.

Casting Breakdown

2006-03-03T12:26:00.000-08:00

I've looked through the play in some detail, and I think the smallest cast I could work with would be about 18. Well, OK, that's far from true--I have, after all, directed Macbeth with a cast of 6, The Tempest with 4, and Othello with 3. I'm sure I could come up with some highly theatrical conceit which would allow me to do Antony & Cleopatra with some insanely diminished number of actors. But not only would that prevent me from dramatizing the whole "army shrinkage" issue I've been on about, but it would also put an unreasonable limit on the number of Walterdalians who get to come and play.

The main reason I haven't tried to do this play before now is because I think that, even more than Lear, it needs to have scope. A big cast isn't the only way to create that effect, of course--a one-person play can have scope, if they talk & act big enough, and if you throw lots of streaking clouds across the cyclorama behind them--but it's the way Shakespeare intended his play to be done. And while I frequently and unrepentantly diverge from what I think are Shakespeare's original intentions, I'd rather stick to them here.

Anyway, the cast breakdown will look something like this (first males, then females):

ANTONY (the play's largest part, at 766 lines--that's way less than Hamlet but slightly more than Lear).
OCTAVIUS CAESAR (the third largest part; he's a young bumbler in the first half, but quickly grows into a tyrant near the end).
LEPIDUS (this grey-bearded fellow is the third part of the "Triumvirate" who rule the civilized world at the beginning of the play. He drops out of sight mid-way through the action, so I might double-cast the part, if I need a senior citizen soldier or something).

Antony's followers: The main ones are ENOBARBUS, VENTIDIUS, and EROS. There are lots of others (PHILO, SCARUS, SILIUS) which might require double-casting.
Caesar's followers: AGRIPPA and GALLUS are his most devoted. There's another one whose name I like (THIDIAS), who might turn up in the play's second half.

Then there's POMPEY, the upstart rebel whose threats to attack Rome are what draw Antony back from Egypt. He has two pirate buddies, MENAS and MENECRATES, who could easily be cut, but who strike me as fun characters. All three of these guys are gone by the intermission, so they could easily be double-cast with soldiers in the second half.

CLEOPATRA (at 622 lines, she's Shakespeare's second gabbiest gal. Of course, these numbers will inevitably shrink when I set about cutting the play down to size).
OCTAVIA (a small role, and she may have to get even smaller. But I'm confident that I can find a way to make her attractive and rewarding for a young actress to portray).
Cleo's clique: CHARMIAN, ALEXAS, IRAS, and MARDIAS.
The SOOTHSAYER (who can be doubled with the CLOWN, another asexual character who smuggles Cleopatra's asp in to her, so she can kill herself).

And that's 18, believe it or not. I'm also contemplating adding a Chorus character, to help fill in some of the gaps I will necessarily be creating when I cut. Unless that character were double-cast, that would bring the cast count up to 19--which, at one higher than this year's Lear cast, seems appropriate somehow. What good am I, if I'm not constantly topping myself?

Casting Questions, Continued

2006-03-01T15:52:00.000-08:00

The other casting issue, for Walterdale at least, is the gender breakdown. As I said, the majority of roles are men's (at a ratio of 15: 2). Anyone who knows much about Shakespeare's theatre (or has seen Shakespeare in Love) knows why this is the case: Shakespeare had no actresses to play in his productions, only boys dressed as women. Of course, for this play, he must have had at least one staggeringly talented young man, to play the complicated leading role of Cleopatra. It was probably the same lucky lad who originated the other great female roles from this same period, including Desdemona and Lady Macbeth. Shakespeare's confidence in this boy (whose name is lost to us) was so great that he even slipped a clever meta-theatrical reference into the play. When Cleopatra has been captured by Caesar's army, she recoils at the idea that she will be led in triumph back to Rome, like a piece of precious booty. She concludes her nightmarish prophecy thus:

Nay, ‘tis most certain, Iras. Saucy lictors
Will catch at us like strumpets, and scald rhymers
Ballad us out o’tune. The quick comedians
Extemporally will stage us and present
Our Alexandrian revels; Antony
Shall be brought drunken forth; and I shall see
Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness
I'th' posture of a whore.

Whether played by a boy or a woman, Cleopatra is unquestionably a great role. And there are at least a couple of other strong parts for women, most notably Cleopatra's servants, Charmian and Iras. The fourth part is Octavia, Caesar's sister and Antony's second wife (his first dies off-stage as the play begins). It's not a bad part, but small.

I suspect the first thing I will do is increase the size of Cleopatra's female retinue by switching the genders of a couple of characters. There's Alexas, who is officially one of Antony's men, but who spends more time running errands for the Queen. His name won't even have to change. Then there's Mardian, who, as a eunuch, is already half-way to womanhood. Rechristened Mardias, she will be a quieter member of Cleopatra's boisterous clique. I'll have to cut out a couple of eunuch jokes--snip, snip--but I doubt anyone will miss them.

Who else? There is a Soothsayer who appears twice early in the play. Like the Soothsayer in Julius Caesar who says, "Beware the Ides of March," this character is genderless, and could just as easily be an old woman as an old man (who knows? Perhaps they are the same character, always popping up to intone seemingly meaningless but ultimately significant warnings).

That brings the female count up from 4 to 7, at least. Then there's always the possibility of cross-casting some of the soldiers. But it would be nice to maintain a clear gender divide between Egypt and Rome. This is emphasised in the imagery of the play: Rome is cold, sterile, rigid, logical, and violent. Egypt is warm and fertile, teeming with life and colour and emotion. The longer Antony stays in Egypt, the more he feels like he's becoming "womanish." This character transition, although it might be seen as somewhat sexist, is important, and I think it might undermine it a bit to have a bunch of Amazons bouncing around in Rome.

(Forgive my choice of words, but I'm sorry; a woman in a toga is a woman, and no amount of tenser bandaging or penciled-in facial hair will fool an audience with eyes.)

Casting Questions

2006-02-28T15:52:00.000-08:00

Antony and Cleopatra has 34 major speaking parts: 30 for men, and 4 for women. By "major" I mean anything more signifcant than a nameless Messenger, Servant, Sentry or Guard. Most of the male characters are soldiers, either in Antony's retinue or in Octavius's. Although they seem a bit flat on the page, they have inventive names, many of which are rife with possible interpretation on the part of creative actors and directors: Scarus, Silius, Agrippa, Gallus, Ventidius, Taurus, Eros.

It might be possible to slim the retinues down to two or three. But one of the key (and oft-repeated) themes in the play's second half is Antony's diminishing support. In Acts 3 and 4, it seems like every scene, another member of Antony's army has defected to Octavius. Antony even encourages them to do so, whenever he's depressed or in his cups. Obviously, the only way to dramatize this progress is to start with Antony surrounded by supporters, and then gradually thin out his ranks until he's only got one devoted servant left (Eros, who dies by his side).

I faced a similar casting challenge when I did King Lear. Here, again, Shakespeare starts the king off with 100 knights--a nice round number--and then slims his ranks (in a neat arithmetic reduction) till he's left with only Kent and the Fool (in my production, I also gave him one last knight, called Gargrave).

Is it worth having a gigantic cast, just to get the visual effect of a shifting balance of power? Isn't it enough that Shakespeare tells us, in the lines of the play, that this is happening? But does it really have the same impact, the same thematic resonance, when Antony bewails his drooping fortunes to the same two dudes who have been with him since Act 1?

Maybe some of the early scenes could be done with big puppets, or with silhouettes back-lit upon a screen? Then you could create the impression of a huge throng to cheer Antony on.

Hmm...puppets...hmm...

The Language of Dreams

2006-02-16T14:25:00.000-08:00

There are a zillion great lines in Antony and Cleopatra, although most of them have not crept into our common language, the way a lot of lines from Hamlet or Macbeth seem to have done. The most flexible expression seems to be Cleopatra's "salad days," as in "My salad days, when I was green in judgment"--which is an unfortunate choice, I think, because it's a really lame pun.

Thanks to T.S. Eliot and The Waste Land, another line has currency for countless first-year university students: "The chair she sat in, like a burnished throne"... This is the beginning of Enobarbus's splendid description of Cleopatra's triumphant meeting with Antony--a crucial event which has already occurred when the play begins, but which Shakespeare returns us to through Enobarbus's sardonic yet high-poetical reminiscence. It's a glorious speech, and I think I'll find it hard to resist the temptation to stage it as well (the way all film versions inevitably do).

I think my favourite lines, or at least the lines which express the most about the play, is Cleopatra's description of Antony in 5.2 (again, after Antony has died and left the narrative). It comes at a moment of tremendous tension, as Dollabella is trying to persuade Cleopatra to surrender her crown to Octavius Caesar. He's trying to appeal to reason, but Cleopatra is immune. Finally, she turns the conversation to the topic of dreams, and blurts out:

I dream'd there was an Emperor Antony;
O, such another sleep, that I might see
Such another man!

Her description continues over Dollabella's objections:

His legs bestrid the ocean: his rear'd arm
Crested the world: his voice was propertied
As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends;
But when he meant to quail and shake the orb,
He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty,
There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas
That grew the more by reaping: his delights
Were dolphin-like; they show'd his back above
The element they lived in: in his livery
Walk'd crowns and crownets; realms and islands were
As plates dropp'd from his pocket.

This is Shakespeare's language at its scintillating best ("His delights / Were dolphin-like"--that's freakin' perfect). But, in addition to the poetry, this moment represents, for me, the central energy of the entire play: using language and imagination (ie. dreams) to transcend reality. Antony never does become an emperor in real life (he is, at best, one-third of a monarch), but Cleopatra dreams that he is larger than a colossus, and that dream ends up having more veracity than anything that happens in real life. Similarly, Antony & Cleopatra's love seems to transcend the clouds, and very nearly overtakes the petty politics of empire-wrangling and civil war. Their love, like their language, is insubstantial--a dream--but it's the thing we cling to when we leave the theatre.

Why A&C?

2006-02-11T12:03:00.000-08:00

Harold Bloom calls Antony and Cleopatra the richest of all Shakespeare's plays. That's a very bold claim, but I'm tempted to agree: it has a scale and intensity which only a few of the great tragedies match, it has poetry to die for, it has moments of both high and low comedy, and it has characters that any self-respecting actor would give their eyeteeth to play.

Well, at least two characters, anyway. Or, well, most definitely one. As word has begun to leak out about this proposed production (I'm not very good at keeping secrets), the response from female members of the Walterdale community has been uniform: "Ooh, maybe I could play Cleopatra!" Some of them aren't even really actors!

But I think the reason Cleo is so attractive to actors can also extend to the rest of the play. It's a play about playing roles, a play about characters who sometimes appear human (like a Shylock or a Lear), sometimes larger than life (like Iago or Falstaff), but who are always "on," always acting, always conscious of the presence of an audience.

With a play like Lear, you have to convince yourself that these people on stage are real human beings with pasts and inner lives. It's not exactly difficult--suspension of disbelief and all that--but it sometimes takes a bit of work. A&C is all about performance. You don't have to pretend; you just have to luxuriate. A good production should make the audience feel rich as well--and it should make them feel like they themselves are part of the performance.

Stage Whispers

2006-02-08T14:48:00.000-08:00

This is the proposed title, or theme, for the season I have just submitted to Walterdale's board of directors for 2006/2007. I can't divulge all of its secrets just yet (the board has to deliberate, and then royalties must be secured and so on), but since I can't seem to keep my thoughts bottled up about one project, I might as well spill the beans here. There's always the possibility that the board will pass on the project, and all this electronic ink will have spilt in vain. But I feel pretty good about it; I think it's a good match for Walterdale, and a challenge which the community is up to:

Antony and Cleopatra.