Super-Secret Mystery Project: Revealed!

It was officially made official last week so I can now officially tell you what all this hulla-ba-loo about my super secret project is about:

I’m working on Twelfth Night.

And it’s not just any Twelfth Night.

 When we finished As You Like It, a few of the cast members and I felt like-mindedly that A) we didn’t want to stop working on Shakespeare, B) we had learned a lot from this process and we wanted to continue learning from each other, and C) we had some ideas about how to create theatre that existing companies may not be comfortable with.

One idea that I have been kicking around for many years is this: can you create theatre without a director?  Do you need a single guiding vision in the room, or is a roomful of smart, talented people a viable alternative?  Can you collaborate one what should be a truly collaborative process?

Apparently, I’m not the only one.  My cohorts felt similarly; too long oppressed by the

Myself and my best gay will be playing old friends once more; he's taking on Feste amongst other roles

Myself and my best gay will be playing old friends once more; he’s taking on Feste amongst other roles

tyranny of ego-driven directors, we struck out on our own to try an experiment.  We wanted to create a dynamic company driven by a mutual passion for Shakespeare and a burning desire to produce his work.  We wanted to create an environment where we could learn from each other equally and where one voice wasn’t necessarily the presiding one.

A few networking connections later and we had begun rehearsal.  Due to the brilliance of one of my compatriots, the show’s been cut to two hours and is being performed with (get this) eight actors.  We’re all doubling roles in one way or another and this has led to a rollicking good time at rehearsal.  Twelfth Night is already a fun show, but pile on top of the innate humor some great ensemble work and meta-theatrics and you’ve got yourself a real winner.  I always leave rehearsal more excited than I was when I walked in, more energized than I was when I walked in, and more impatient to see the end produce than I was when I walked in.

In short: you should come see our little experiment in action!  We’re calling ourselves (at least for now) the “What you Will Players” and we hope to be taking the Boston theatre scene by storm.  Our guiding values are community, engagement (with the audience and the text), enlightenment (of ourselves, each other, and our audiences), and simple performance done simply.  We’re not into bells and whistles and Twelfth Night will be performed largely using costumes and props that we found in our basements and closets.  We’re hoping to show that good Shakespeare doesn’t need the trappings of theatrics

the last time I was in Twelfth Night I played Antonio/the Sea Captain... you know... coz I'm a big scary pirate.

the last time I was in Twelfth Night I played Antonio/the Sea Captain… you know… coz I’m a big scary pirate.

layered on top if it, but rather (simply) a genuine emotional connection.

I’ve worked on Twelfth Night before.  I’ve done monologues, scenes, and even the entire show.  This is the first time that I’ve really felt connected to it, however, rather than distanced from it.  In fact, the last production of Twelfth Night that I was in was the one that made me run screaming from the theatre due to an awful director, his ego-driven antics, and his inability to communicate with me as an actor.  My current rehearsal process is slowly curing me of my Twelfth Night phobia and I can honestly say that this show is going to be a real treat to see.

…so who am I playing, you ask?  Through some exceedingly clever script cutting and some crazy quick changing, I’ll be appearing as both Maria and Olivia.  Can you already tell how much fun this is?

Updates to follow in the coming months!  We will be performing March 8th and 9th at 8PM and 10th at 3PM at the Winthrop Under-Playhouse Blackbox (60 Hermon St., Winthrop MA) so mark your calendars.  Ticket info will be available very soon!

Some Unsolicited Advice

For most people, January is a time for resolutions, re-thinking the events of the past year, and re-evaluating things you can do to make your life happier, better, and on the whole more livable.  Although living on an academic schedule means that I don’t abide by the normal rules of time, most of my friends are of the population for whom the year actually begins and ends in accordance with a lunar calendar.  I also can’t help but recall that this is the time of year when PhD applications are in and everyone who has made the big decision to commit to a life of academia (or at least is flirting with the idea) has already given the dice a good, solid roll and is now in the horrible waiting space of trying to figure out what’s going to come up.

The waiting space is awful.  For everyone going through it, my heart most sincerely goes out to you.

Some recent events in my life (and the lives of those around me) have made me stop to think about some of my own choices.

As you can tell if you read this blog with any frequency, my life is not easy.  In fact, it’s overwhelmingly difficult sometimes.  I have a lot of things which require my attention, a lot of things which I worry about, and almost no certainty in anything.

But you know what?  I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I’m constantly saying that I know I’ve made the correct decisions because, even when I’m having a bad day and facing problems that seem insurmountable, I know with the utmost certainty that I would rather be facing these problems than any other.

Friends constantly make the observation that I always seem happy in what I’m doing,

This adventure never would have happened if I hadn't taken a leap into the darkness.... (Shakespeare & Company; 2008)

This adventure never would have happened if I hadn’t taken a leap into the darkness…. (Shakespeare & Company; 2008)

even when I’m overwhelmed.  And you know what, blog-o-sphere?  I am.  I’m busy, I’m crazed, I’m fighting a trip to the literary loony bin with every passing moment, but I am happy.

So, if you are amongst those January-people, here is some completely unsolicited (but, in my experience, completely sound) advice for how to be, similarly, happy.  It’s slightly outside of the scope of my usual writings, but I feel that this needs to be said.  How do you know my advice is sound, you ask?  Because I’ve already told you that I, myself, have experienced that it works.  And I’m pretty smart.  And modest.  I’m way modest.

Change is inevitable and nothing good every came from stagnation.  To quote perhaps the wisest of them all, Ralph Waldo Emerson, “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds”.  A man’s life, lived only in a continually enacted pattern, is a violation against his nature.  Happiness doesn’t come from complacency.  Complacency is the mind-killer and the greatest thing to be feared.  Embrace the change, seek the change, and don’t be afraid of the change.  It’s your best friend on the road to happiness.

Speaking of fear, it’s inevitable.  My mom (a wise person herself) claims that it’s an acronym for “False Expectations Appearing Real”.  I’m not sure where this originated (I think it’s some therapist’s credo of some kind), but it’s been comforting to me.  Fear is to be expected and, if you spend your life hiding from fear, you’re never going to find happiness.  Do things that scare you.  In my experience, those have been the only truly fulfilling things that I have done.

Nor this adventure (Tufts; 2011)

Nor this adventure (Tufts; 2011)

The great swath of the unknown which exists on the brink of our universe is where adventure lies.  Just like Bilbo Baggins, nobody who is content to stay at home will ever find it.  I’m not saying there’s no value in having a nice, cozy place to come home to when you’re done adventuring, but if you have the option between a mediocre nest and a potentially fulfilling adventure, step off the edges of the map.  Nobody lived a fulfilling life only by wishing.

Plans never work out the way you planned them.  Flexibility is another key to finding the elusive happiness beast.  That’s not to say don’t plan; plan.  Plan to your heart’s content.  Just don’t expect that everything will line up the way you anticipate it and expect for some things to go wrong.  Do not hang your happiness on expectation.

Enjoy the ride and try, as much as you can, to take in the moment around you.  That moment is going to be gone far too quickly for anyone’s liking.

It’s not easy.  If anything is easy, it’s probably not worth the effort.

Do not confuse “simple” and “easy”; they are not the same thing.

Yearnings must be answered or they turn to regrets.  Dreams are not to be silenced, just quieted sometimes.  Chasing stars will always land you somewhere you never thought you’d go, though rarely will it put you where you planned to be.

And always always remember to breathe.  No matter what; it’s a quick and easy way to automatically improve whatever situation you may find yourself in.

A Shakespearean Dramaturge’s Lament

Okay, fine, I’ll admit it.  While pinterest has done many wonderful things for my life (I have yet to find a recipe on there that isn’t absolutely mouth-watering), it has caused one bone of deep contention between myself and the internet.

The internet is the new vaudeville.  Anyone can put anything on it.  Sometimes these things have worth (in entertainment value, educational insight, or just general human connection), and sometimes they don’t.  What pinterest has made me keenly aware of is the proclivity of “quotes” on the internet.

I say that in quotes because, in my experience, most quotes on pinterest are either misattributed, made up, or just plain wrong.  Since a quote’s value lies in the validity of its speaker (if it didn’t, we’d just call them “words” or “phrases”), such mistakes render the quotes useless.  Or, if not useless, just a collection of words that anyone could have uttered.  And, really, who wants a collection of words said by no one? It’s like wearing a fake Tiffany’s bracelet and calling it the real deal (all zazzle and no genuine maker’s mark).  It’s like eating yogurt with aspartame in it (all appearances and no substance).  It’s like reading an abridged version of a classic novel (all editor’s opinion and no true literary value).

Perhaps most disturbingly, this trend feeds into the mindless trope of unwary internet denizens that everything one finds on pinterest is true.  Even the savvy surfer can be taken in by pretty words and a big name.  And this, my friends, discourages critical thinking, encourages false facts made true, and overall proves a thorn in the side to those of us who know better who now have to content with gaggles of would-be quoters.

I could have let it slide if not for the constant misattribution to Shakespeare.  Oh, sure, it happens all the time.  Just about everyone in the field of space and time ever has made a mistake like this.  But I’m not talking about the little mistakes, I’m talking about the ones that grow and propagate and sell themselves on t-shirts.

The plays attributed to Plautus are divided by the Roman philologist Varro into three categories: those definitely by Plautus, those possibly by Plautus, and those most certainly not by Plautus.  In that vein, I would like to present to you a list: famous quotes definitely by Shakespeare, famous quotes that are kind of Shakespeare’s, and famous quotes definitely not by Shakespeare.

Famous Quotes Definitely by Shakespeare

“The course of true love never did run smooth.” – Lysander, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, 1.1

“To be, or not to be: that is the question.” – Hamlet, Hamlet, 3.1

“Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears.” – Antony, Julius Caesar, 3.2

“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players; They have their exits

The Great Globe itself

The Great Globe itself

and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts…” –Jacques, As You Like It, 2.7

“If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh?  If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?” – Shylock, Merchant of Venice, 3.1

Famous Quotes Kind of by Shakespeare

“Alas, Poor Yorick; I knew him well.”

This is one that’s almost Shakespeare.  The history of this misquote is something that would take a lot more digging than I’m prepared to do at the moment to dredge up, but we all know the classic scene from which it comes.  Hamlet finds the gravedigger comically going about his rounds and, upon grave-digging Ophelia’s final resting place, uncovers Yorick the Jester’s skull.  Hamlet takes the skull and famously laments, “Alas, poor Yorick!  I knew him, Horatio.  A fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy.  He hath borne me on his back a thousand times.” (Hamlet, 5.1)

If I had to guess, I’d say that some pop culture thing or other had, at some point along the way, need to utilize a Hamlet reference without another character onstage and, so, they altered the quote.  Unfortunately, since pop culture sticks, the misquote has as well.  Fight the system!  Quote Hamlet with integrity!

“This above all: to thine own self be true.”

One of my near and dear friends, when he was eighteen and stupid, went and got this tattooed on his body.  Ten years and one Master’s in English later, he was regretting the decision for this reason:

The problem with this quote isn’t the wording (the words are accurate), it’s the sentiment.  Though Polonious does say this to his departing son, it’s perhaps the least sincere section of the play.  Context is important.  Divorcing a quote from its context strips it of power.

We’re all guilty of doing this; everyone from Christmas card manufacturers to political speechwriters.  The authority of The Bard is unquestionable (thanks mostly to David Garrick) and, because of this, he’s called upon to support just about anything you can think of even when his words are removed from their greater context and, thereby, just words.

“Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.”

See above problem.  This quote, taken as one of the greatest utterances of the English language, is part of a letter written by a bunch of gamboling drunkards to trick a pious (if cranky) man into thinking that his employer is in love with him.  Hardly heroic words to live by, even if they are wise.

Sonnet 116

If I hear this read at one more wedding, I’m going to stand up and loudly declare the marriage invalid on the grounds of literary stupidity.  People, seriously, if you want something said at your wedding, funeral, or any other event of note, at least do your friggen research.

This poem isn’t a declaration of true love, nor an uplifting statement about how love is eternal and beautiful, but rather the words of a man upbraiding an untrue lover and telling the subject how things should be.  It’s Shakespeare saying: “if you were true loves, I wouldn’t speak these words to admit impediments, but obviously you’ve got some misconceptions about love… lemme clear those up for you.”

Really?  You want that read at your wedding?  Monkeys.

 

Shakespeare disapproves

Shakespeare disapproves

Constructions of the Internet; NOT SHAKESPEARE

“You say that you love rain, but you open your umbrella when it rains.  You say that you love the sun, but you find a shadow spot when the sun shines.  You say that you love the wind, but you close your windows when the wind blows.  This is why I am afraid, you say that you love me too.”

What, what, what are you doing?  First of all, this doesn’t fit any of Shakespeare’s meters.  Not a one.  So that would relegate it to a section of prose from one of the plays.  Okay, maybe.  There is some love-content written in prose (none of it would be this intense, but… sure, let’s go with it for a moment)

But let’s look at this a little more closely: the word “umbrella” is perhaps the biggest give-away.  It doesn’t enter the written vocabulary of the English language until 1609 coming from the Italian “ombrella” which is from the Latin “umbra” meaning “shade” and, at first, was used specifically to reference a means of shelter or protection.  It wasn’t used to speak about a portable version of this until 1611, and then it referred specifically to a sun shield (the early ones were made of leather and wooden hoops).  Not until 1634 do we have record of its usage as a word to describe an item used to protect against the rain.

Shakespeare died in 1616.  His last plays were written around 1613, but certainly no later than 1614.  Do you see the problem here?

NEXT!

“When I saw you, I fell in love and you smiled because you knew.” 

This one drives me nuts.  I really don’t know who started it, if it was a mistake, or if they were purposefully trying to give a poor Shakespearean a hernia.  This quote is MISSATRIBUTED; Shakespeare never said anything like this.  Not even anything I can bend to make fit this.  The quote is actually the work of Italian poet Arrigo Boito who did, granted, write the libretti for Verdi’s Otello and Falstaff… please PLEASE stop sharing this one around without giving the poor guy some credit.  Harumph.

“Expectation is the root of all heartache.”

I have no idea where this came from; it’s another internet construction with no basis in reality (much like the bonsai cat).  The word “heartache” only appears once in the canon (“by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to…” Hamlet, 3.1).  The word “expectation” is slightly more prolific and appears 26 times, but never in a context that is remotely near to what this quote is trying to say… it’s not even written in iambic.  This is clearly trochaic; a meter only used by Shakespeare’s magical characters (like Puck and the Witches), certainly not by any lovers ever….  HARUMPH!

To Conclude…

Before you go believing things on the internet, tattooing things on your body, or uttering words at important life-celebrations…

FIND YOURSELF A DRAMATURGE!

Not so Sleepy; but pretty Legendary

This afternoon, I was treated to a lovely rollick in a world very near and dear to my heart.  I got to go see the Imaginary Beasts’ Winter Panto, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.

Sleepy Hollow is what it sounds like, a sleepy little hamlet in Tarrytown, New York, about

modern plaque on "bridge"

modern plaque on “bridge”

forty five minutes away from where I grew up.  Of course, most of us know it exists because of Washington Irving’s very famous bit of pith about the town (historical note: the headless horseman’s bridge has since been lost; there is a bridge in Sleep Hollow, but it’s a modern construction, despite the historical plaque set upon it).

American Pantomime is… really not what it sounds like.  It’s derived from the English form which was a pithy bit of entertainment incorporating music, slapstick, topical references, mild innuendo, etc.  The American form, much like its English cousin, is traditionally performed around Christmas time (the Imaginary Beasts perform one every winter).  Salient to the American form is that it’s plot is based in nursery stories retold on the stage incorporating these elements.

Point of dramaturgical order: do not confuse “pantomime” with “mime”.  They are not the same thing.  The word “pantomime” derives from a Greek construction composed of “pantos” (“every”, or “all”) and “mimos” (“actor” or “imitator”).  The Pantomimos, then, was the “imitator of all” (or, actually, generally troupes of actors who would perform often accompanied by song).  The word “mime” comes from that same Greek word “mimos”, but that’s where the similarities end.  These forms are two very different ducks.

The Beasts adhere to all the old traditions (cross-dressing, modern references, contemporary song, audience participation, and slapstick abound) and, through this, present a rollicking good time made better by the presence of children in the audience.  If you’re willing to bring your own inner child to come play with the Beasts, you will definitely thank yourself for it.

The Beasts also embrace the age-old, time-tested tradition of high comedy: cross-dressing is funny.  I simply couldn’t stop laughing as Joey Pelletier performed a rendition of “Tiptoe through the Tulips” in full Victorian drag.  Nor could I find it in myself to deny this charmer anything he wanted (including a loud “va va va voom!” upon his entrance into any room, as per his request to the audience).  In case you were concerned that this whole “cross-dressing is funny” bit was getting a little one-sided, Jill Ragati proves to be the Ichabod Crane with the most shapely legs I’ve ever seen (and yet, still somehow androgynous… I really can’t explain that one).

I might be biased, but I found the antics of Amy Meyer as Widow Pinchpurse to be miserly hilarious.  In case you never thought you’d laugh at the old “Don’t hit me!” “what?” “HIT ME!” “OKAY!” joke again, you may want to take this opportunity to re-instill yourself with some measure of classic humanity.

As a parting thought I’ll give the Beasts this: they utilized the Scissor Sisters to much greater effect than Glee did.

So do yourself a favor: find a child (or be ready to amp up your inner eight-year-old), and go laugh a little.  It’s a dark gray winter, we can all use some time in the sun.  Ticket and show info can be found here.

Dipping Toes in the Shallow End

This morning, despite the urgings of my ever-loving bed, I got up.  I went and sat at my desk.  I opened a book.  I read assigned pages.  I took notes on it.  I thought about what I was reading.

When I was done with that, I saved the PDFs of this week’s reading assignment to my dropbox and opened that on my ipad.  I read it.  I took notes.  I thought about it, in turn.

When I was done with that, I cracked my script.  I reviewed some scenes, did some text work, highlighted and underlined some things, and took some marginalia notes on that.

When I was done with that, I sent a few e-mails and took care of some long-awaited administrative business that I really couldn’t start the semester without doing.

Now that I’m done with that, I think I’m going to go relax on the couch for a good long time.  Break may be winding down but it’s not officially over until Wednesday.

Although I will say this: despite the fact that having absolutely nothing to do on a given day is a rare luxury (and one I don’t generally afford myself, even during breaktime), having something one must do on a given day certainly works to relieve my anxiety about things I can’t really do anything about in this moment anyway.  Every time I so much as think the word “comps”, the bottom drops out of my stomach and I get an overwhelming feeling of

Ah yes.  My love.  My Preeeeciousssss.

Ah yes. My love. My Preeeeciousssss.

vertigo.  Whenever I glance at my German (a necessary obstacle before I even get to my comps), I find a little demon sitting on my shoulder whispering to me “DU KANNST ES NICHT!”  Somehow, hitting deadlines that are absolutely within my control and things that I know I am capable of doing alleviates this stress.

I will kill that demon.  He’s not long for this world.  I just need to work up some courage first.  It’s probably going to come in liquid form; I’m deep in the torrid thralls of a love affair with the cappuccino machine my folks gifted me with for Christmas.  Let me tell you, it’s done wonders to alter my outlook on life.

Plague Monkey

It’s Sunday night.

Boston is currently a plague zone with three quarters of the population infected with a mystery flu.

I never get a flu shot.

My partner in crime was lain out for four days with said flu.

We spent this morning podcasting.

Then I went to rehearsal.

I’ve been under pre-semester stress/pressure lately and this overwhelming fatigue is, I’m beginning to worry, perhaps something more than just overwhelming fatigue.

Halfway through rehearsal I realized I was having trouble reading my script.  Not because my printer is faulty or my eyes are bleary, just because I was having trouble reading.

I may be contaged.

…classes start Wednesday.  I don’t have time for this.

Which means I’m definitely contaged.

Carp.

Now is the Winter of our Discontent

In these, the waning days of my winter break, I am taking stock of all the sundry things that I have managed to commit to for the semester to come.  And let me tell you; apparently I don’t know how to have a quiet semester.

I’ll be taking one class, TAing a second, working on my usual assortment of personal projects having nothing to do with work, dramaturging Measure for Measure, brushing up on my German, passing my German exam, in a show (this is my semi-secret-not-so-secret-not-yet-ready-to-be-released-to-the-world project), podcasting, and blogging.

No wonder I’m already going through all the stress symptoms I usually associate with the end of the semester.

For that, I think with a good system of organization in place, I should be able to hit everything I need to hit without overmuch stress on myself.

At least I hope so.

So, since I’m still working on enjoying my break, I’ll leave you with this truncated post and some pictures from my trip to New York over the holidays.

Happy Break, y’all!

2012-12-24 14.48.07

2012-12-24 15.06.04

2012-12-24 16.53.27

2012-12-24 14.27.35

2012-12-23 17.23.30

Another Openin’, Another Show

This week past was a great theatre-going week for myself and my ever-wonderful partner in crime.  There are some exciting things happening in Boston right now and it has been a pleasure to see some of them.

Pippin at the ART 

The American Repertory Theatre as an institution seems to be undergoing some changes; though no longer a center for the avant-garde (as far as I can tell, this has now been relegated to their secondary venue the Oberon), they still produce some pretty exciting theatre.

Right now on the main stage, you can see a bold new staging of Pippin.

Press Shot for Pippin

Press Shot for Pippin

Alright, alright, it’s Pippin.  Yea, the show itself is about as schmaltzy as they come.  But honestly, what’s life without musical theatre schmaltz?

And this staging really brings something to the text.  Dianne Paulus enlisted the assistance of circus choreographer Gypsy Snider to present a show that’s loaded with spectacle, drenched in theatricality, and definitely somewhere the audience would be tempted to run away to.  The choreography is new, but Chet Walker definitely kept the Fosse feel and there are plenty of shoulder-rolls and arm-fans to go around.

Of course, the show stopper (and show-stealer) occured late in the first act (Andrea Martin’s Berthe gave a performance of “No Time at All” that I am hard pressed to ever forget).  Matthew James Thomas’ Pippin is petulant and angry, wide-eyed and hungry, essentially the perfect blend of youthful optimism and teenaged angst.

The only performance which I found even slight fault in was that of Patina Miller as the leading player.  While Miller is an amazing dancer and her vocals can’t be beat, she lacks the undercurrent of menace that the part requires.  If she were to truly dig and find some semblance of an inner villain, the show would be well near perfect.

The finale lacks some sizzle (I’ve been told due to fire codes, or potentially expense), but really.  What are you going to do with a show that asks you to set people on fire?  From my vantage point second row center, the effect looked cheesy and glitzy (which would have worked had it not been for the plot-point about Pippin ACTUALLY setting himself on fire).  I’ve been told that it doesn’t look as awful from further back in the house.

I’ve also been told that Paulus made the exciting announcement at the show’s opening the other night that it would be making its way to Broadway next.  I am extremely pleased to hear this.  I highly recommend you get out to see it now while tickets are cheap(ish) and the show is local.

Two Gentlemen of Verona by the Actor’s Shakespeare Project

I’ll admit, I didn’t go into this performance with high expectations.  There’s a reason that Two Gents is rarely performed.  Act Five is a nightmare to make read to a modern audience, and the show’s protagonist is one of the least likeable characters in the canon (for further discussion of this, check out our recent podcast about it).

Two Gents promo art

Two Gents promo art

In addition, I’ve never yet heard a good review of an ASP production.  None of my local friends (or mentors) have been impressed with their work, so I did not expect that the combination of these two deadly things would yield anything horribly impressive.

For that, Two Gents is one of my favorite shows and I’ve always wanted to see it done.  Despite myself, I was rather excited to find out what the good folks at ASP had come up with.

First things first: I know Bill Barclay’s work from his long tenure at Shakespeare & Company (some of this while I myself was there training).  The man’s a genius.  His abilities with music are unmatched and it’s always an absolute joy to watch him romp about the stage with his own one-man-band of instruments (in this show alone, you can see him play the guitar, concertina, accordion, ukulele, and harmonica along with an assortment of percussion noise-makers).  I expected the music to be outstanding.

Barclay’s performance was equally impressive.  Protheus is an extremely difficult part to pull off since it requires a wide range of emotion very quickly (he’s one of the least mature men in the canon), and the foreknowledge that the audience is going to hate you.  Barclay’s natural charm and charisma worked to offset this, and his command of the text meant that he got every ounce of emotional connection out of the role.

Unfortunately, he was in the minority.  The women onstage were less impressive – Paige Clark (Julia) went for shtick over emotion, and Miranda Craigwell (Silvia), though stunning, didn’t seem to make any acting choices at all.  Marya Lowry made an excellent gender-bent Duke (Duchess) of Milan, but her Lucetta was frantic and muddy.  This is doubly unfortunate since the women are the true heart of this show; without a deep connection to Julia, the audience has no reason to react to Protheus (though Barclay’s charisma covered a multitude of sin).

The clowning was spectacular.  Thomas Derrah as Speed and John Kuntz as Launce were precise, efficient, and uproarious.  They counter-balanced each other admirably, and entertained thoroughly.  They were aided in this endeavor by Bruno, the most well behaved dog I’ve ever seen, in the role of Crab.  To quote Geoffrey Rush as Philip Henslowe, “You see – comedy. Love, and a bit with a dog. That’s what they want”.

ASP solved the act five fireworks with a game of bardic footsie that I can only describe as “admirable”.  After menacing the outlaws, Protheus turned to Silvia, made his threat, then realized what came out of his mouth.  Disgusted with himself, he dropped his knife, fell to his knees, then wrapped his arms around Silvia’s waist in a pathetic act of self-reproach.  Enter Valentine who sees something more than what he sees (as a lover is wont to do).  For a modern audience, I think this is the only way to make the scene read if you still want to maintain any sense of empathy with Protheus in the end.  It ensures that Protheus remains redeemable without violating the text.

On the whole, this production was charming and enjoyable.  While it lacked substance and true feeling, it did have entertainment value in spades.  I would encourage you to go see it but, alas, it closes today.

ASP will be doing a production of Pericles in April that I, for one, will be extremely interested to see.

Not Yet Dead

This is an obligatory “I’m not dead” post (also, incidentally, my first post of the post-apocalyptic 2013…. If we think of this year as “post-apocalyptic”, it’s guaranteed to make no matter what happens at least 50% more magical and 25% more awesome).

Since I got home from New York, things have been rather quiet.

I’m clearing off my desk, I’m sending e-mails that I had been putting off, I’m having meetings that had to wait until after finals, and I’m catching up on quality me-time.

I’m getting my knitting docket all lined up for the semester, I’m kicking off some exciting projects (can you say “eight person Twelfth Night”!?  Stay tuned!), I’m ordering my books, I’m obsessively checking online grading system, I’m trying my darndest not to think about German or Comps for another week.

I’m getting my gym and eating habits back on line, I’m catching up with old friends who

my favorite shot from New York: the Union Square Holiday Market (best experienced while sipping Italian Dark hot Chocolate from Max Brenner's which, by the way, I was)

my favorite shot from New York: the Union Square Holiday Market (best experienced while sipping Italian Dark hot Chocolate from Max Brenner’s which, by the way, I was)

got sacrificed under the finals bus (and were nice enough to understand), I’m mentally resetting and preparing for the last semester of coursework for my PhD.

I’m learning to use my brand shiny new cappuccino machine (thanks, mom and dad!), I’m getting my new computer set up with my docking station (again, thanks to the best daddy on the face of the planet), I’m trying to figure out how to get icloud to sync my calendars without fubaring things (surprisingly difficult given apple’s generally idiot-proof interfacing).

I’m podcasting (http://www.offensiveshadows.com in case you hadn’t heard), I’m rehearsing, I’m web committee chairing, I’m reviewing syllabi for my Spring TA assignment.

On the whole, I’m doing my best to rest and rejuvenate.  I’m also aligning things so that all of my projects are on a roll before the semester starts and thus will not need extra kicking to begin rolling down long bumpy hills when I’m in the middle of paper-drafting or midterms-grading or any number of inevitable things that the semester brings with it.

I highly recommend that you do the same.

The semester will soon be upon us and we all need to be prepared for its onset.