BOYS IN SKIRTS.
YOU GUYSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.
I just got back from seeing the Chekhov International Theatre Festival's production of Twelfth Night and it was a;dsfjls;kdajflksakljfkajAMAZING.
JEEZY CREEZY.
It's been awhile since I saw something that excited me this much all the way through, leaving me slightly breathless by the end. I remembered reading great reviews when the production was in NYC some time ago, but I just wasn't prepared for what I got.
Because- SURPRISE! I GOT BOYS IN SKIRTS!!!! The company was founded by Declan Donnellan (who was there tonight and took a bow! *FANGIRL SPASM*) of Cheek by Jowl fame, so I guess I should have realized? But I didn't, or I had forgotten, I DON'T KNOW ALL I KNOW IS THAT ALL-MALE SHAKESPEARE IS MY FAVORITE THING AND I GOT IT TONIGHT IN SPAAAAAAADES. We all know that I am pretty much a fan of genderfuck in any context, but I think tonight I realized one of the myriad of reasons why I like it so much in my Shakespeare- I can't speak for what it must have been with boys in the company, but when men play all the roles, you can't hide behind an artifice of realism. You have to face that this is THEATRE, this is make believe, and when you aren't worrying about buying the appearance of truth, you can sometimes get more readily at the truths that lie underneath the surface. Admittedly, metatheatricality is very much my thing, so this is just how I'm seeing this. I also probably just REALLY REALLY LIKE when boys put on skirts (and then proceed to act as people, not mincing feminine stereotypes).
One of the other things I liked so much about this production was how damn SPARE it was. The stage was bare except for some black (later, white) banners in the back half and a few chairs or a table that were brought on at times. The costumes were also very, very simple. I love spectacle as much as the next girl, but I wish more people understood how little Shakespeare NEEDS it. Who knows? Maybe Shakespeare would have written his plays differently if he had the resources of today, but he DIDN'T. He wrote them for a theatre with a bare stage and simple props that was supposed to clip along speedily, and when we do the plays that way today, BY GOLLY isn't it funny how well they work...
On to the performances. It's worth mentioning that this was performed in Russian. It's my first time ever seeing ANY play in a foreign language (admittedly, with supertitles), much less a Shakespeare play (I consider it one of the greatest benefits of being an English speaker that I can read Shakespeare in its original form). Luckily, I know Twelfth Night best of all his plays, so even though I can't help but read titles when they're given to me, I could tune them out for long stretches and just watch the actors GO. It's kind of a lovely way to watch a show- you really get to focus on faces and physicalities in a way that you might not when there are words you're paying greater attention to competing with them. The text got cut a lot, but I noticed it particularly because of the titles, which were often representing only half the lines the actors were saying. Because I know the play so well, I could SEE them acting lines that the projection screen weren't displaying, and I wonder why that is. Sometimes, I imagine it's a speed thing (if the actors are galloping through Shakespeare's text, that would be too much to keep up with), but I guess it might also have been because they didn't think we could Get It fast enough? I admit, Shakespeare is more dense than a lot of opera libretti, which is something I'm more familiar with taking in via titles, so I guess that makes sense. WHATEVS. It didn't really bother me.
Funnily enough, I was most fascinated by Maria in this production. I've never seen an actor give her so much depth, presented so much of a fully-formed PERSON on stage. There was something so very jaded in her that you could see in the way she held herself, or smoked a cigarette (there was a lot of that from both Maria and Olivia, surprisingly enough)- she'd been burned by life and I was just ITCHING to know HOW and WHY and wanting so much more of her story. This was most staggeringly apparent in the late night singing of catches with Toby, Andrew, and Feste. This Toby was nastier than many I've seen, a little more repulsive in the earlier scenes, and here, turned violent. He actually hit Maria in the scene, eliciting gasps from the audience. Toby was caught up in a tantrum and didn't even notice that he'd struck her to the floor, sobbing. The other men lept up and helped her, holding back Toby, but DAMN- it was genuinely scary and unexpected and heartbreaking, seeing Maria curled in on herself in a chair, sobbing and hiding her face while Toby just WENT ON. He eventually realized what he'd done and repented, trying to cozy back up to Maria. When he didn't succeed, he ended up moving on and trying to sing a catch to coax her back- here, not one of Shakespeare's but, judging from the audience reaction (there were a LOT of Russian speakers in the audience, from what I heard), with a traditional drinking song. Maria pulled herself up, drank four shots of vodka with a shaking hand, and then joined in the song, ending up leading the whole pack of them.
Like, DAMN. WHAT A CHOICE.
Just as striking (although they did drop the ball in the second half) was Maria at the gulling of Malvolio. The production had cut Fabian entirely, so Maria was with the men in the "box tree" (here, hiding behind the long black banners that hung upstage). The usual fun was had, but again, this production did something I've not seen before with Malvolio. This is "supposed" to be the big comic scene where we all laugh at Malvolio's posturing and absurdity, relishing the impending fall. This Malvolio, however, broke my heart. Instead of comic business, he wept while reading the letter, sobs of joy that he'd never thought he could be so lucky as to be loved. And Maria, watching this til the end, began to weep herself- the only one on stage who realized just how awful a trick this really was to play on anyone, even someone as unpleasant as Malvolio.
I HAVE CHILLS NOW, JUST THINKING BACK ON IT.
In the second half, they were kind of stuck with the realities of the text- Maria takes part in all the terrible things they do to Malvolio, so it didn't make quite as much sense, but WHATEVER IT WAS AMAZING. The mood changes in that scene were SO fast and SO devastating and effective.
As for everyone else, they really were all such a strong cast. The play actually started with the full cast on stage, wearing identical white shirts, black suspenders and black trousers. The actor who would be Viola stepped forward, and began with 'My father', which was echoed around and around in the company. She finished it: 'My father had a daughter', as the company came up and encircled her. When they stepped back, they had wrapped a black skirt over her trousers and bam- there was our Viola, as she ended with "I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers, too. Yet I know not.” She ran offstage as Orsino came forward and the cast started to play guitars, trumpets, and tambourines for the opening music. When Orsino named Olivia, he picked another actor out of the crowd and wrapped a skirt around her himself. She stayed onstage throughout his speech, standing there sadly and in silence until the end, when she was escorted off by the actors who would return as Maria and Toby. It was SO DELICIOUSLY THEATRICAL and layered with meaning.
I loved this Viola, as you always should in a Twelfth Night. The costuming added in some wonderful nuances- when she came back, wearing a long, golden velvet sheathe dress, well. It's such a strikingly vulnerable and charged sight- a young man wearing a dress. He didn't wear a wig or fancy makeup- it was just that thin dress and his bearing that made him a woman. Even in trousers (actually, a dapper cream suit in a sea of black costumes in the first half), he made his femininity in carefully chosen ways: the way he sat and then held himself in a chair was always revealing. When she did the ring soliloquy, this Viola stole the chance to try on a lovely piece of jewelry that chance had given her, and even brought out a tiny compact mirror to see the effect of it against her face. It was another one of those, WHY haven't I ever seen anyone try this before? moments. OF COURSE Viola, so isolated in her disguise, would grab at a moment of femininity. But vulnerable really was the word for this Viola- she seemed so fragile at times that, like Orsino, you couldn't help but want to comfort her and assure her that nothing would harm her. She also had a habit of letting herself be free in these little snatches that should would jump back from- during 'Come away, death,' she actually stood with the musicians and played the tambourine. This was the most upbeat, almost smarmy (this happened with a lot of Feste's songs, but it worked in Russian) I've ever heard this song, but OH MY GOD VIOLA AND HER TAMBOURINE. At first she played it normally, but then got flashier and flashier, adding in swoops and spin and even a LEAP before finally reigning herself in when she noticed Orsino noticing. She was always the one who first noticed and pulled back when things got too intimate with Orsino- leaning her head on his shoulder, embracing him too long and too closely...
They didn't actually play into a sexual attraction between Viola and Orsino as much as other productions I've seen. Orsino seemed surprised over and over again that he opened himself up so much to Cesario, let him in where others would not be allowed. This led to some tension in the final scene that was visible in all the characters- this Orsino couldn't bring himself to embrace Viola until she came back later in her velvet dress. You could see all the others on stage wanted to DO something, to make Orsino realize he was a lucky guy and just kiss the damn girl, but I remember noticing Maria holding them back, realizing that if it was going to happen, it had to come from Orsino himself. He did finally kiss Viola, but damn- it was restrained. This wasn't the blissful happy ending I'm used to getting from this play.
There was also a lovely little stolen moment for Olivia and Feste. Again, we had a man wearing a thin black cotten dress on stage, a scarf wrapped around his head. The actor looked so very defenseless that when Olivia went right to a desk and began to work through a stack of papers, we could see that she was keeping herself safe from the world, secluded away with her work. She stayed there until the end of Feste's 'take away the fool' proof, until she leapt up to strike him, before crumpling and embracing him in tears. He offered her a handkerchief, finally, which grew like a magicians and became her veil- a lovely touch. When she had shooed away all her family and followers, she had this marvelous moment with Feste. She sat on the edge of her desk and shared a ciagrette with the fool and it was AMAZING. I'd never seen that from an Olivia before- she's always played so very uptight until she falls in love, but here, you could see that she was always rather wonderful and you wanted to know more about her.
They staged a lot of moments in these funny chase patterns. When Cesario first came in, Olivia, Maria, and Feste all wore veils and shared Olivia's lines between them, circling around Viola and confusing her utterly. The final scene had the same idea- first Viola running away from Olivia and Orsino chasing afterward, then the reverse when Orsino turned on Viola for Cesario's supposed betrayal. When Andrew entered with his hurt, all the characters rushed to him at down right- blocking Viola from view when Sebastian entered up right. They formed a brilliant and funny human shield that really worked for how the scene played out. They held off the hug as the script actually calls for- they didn't embrace until they were returned and stole a moment at center. It's one of the delights of having a man play a woman in that, as they hugged, Sebastian could lean back and lift Viola off her feet and Viola could get a delighted laugh simply by the actor popping his feet up.
The last person to really need talking about tonight is Antonio. He didn't really make a mark until he came on to defend the supposed-Sebastian. The fight scene was done quite cleverly- Andrew and Viola charged and missed each other, then Viola stayed in her corner and pushed Feste (not Fabian, obviously) toward Andrew in her place, meaning that Andrew ran right into her and they clutched each other in fear for a long moment before they realized who each other was, which led Viola to shriek again and run straight into Antonio. Antonio, bless, scooped her up in his arms in protection. It made it all the more upsetting, then, when he came to demand his purse. Viola TRIED, she really did- she gave him half her money and then, surprisingly, the other half as well, but Antonio was angrier than I've ever seen.
This meant that when we reached the end of the play, poor Antonio was the focus. He became more and more upset as he was largely forgotten by all- until Feste came up to him and began to sing the final song. All the actors reentered with their instruments and the song was sung by the whole company as they danced in a circle around Antonio until he finally was cheered. In the midst of the good spirits, Malvolio came out with a tray of champagne flutes for all the cast. They took their champagne, toasted themselves and the audience- and then Malvolio, in a spotlight, finally said 'I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you' FADE TO BLACK HO SHIT MAN DID THAT REALLY JUST HAPPEN?
I read about this production four years ago and thought then, Damn. I really wish I could have been able to see that. Now I have. I see a lot of theatre and a lot of it has been very, very good, but I consider myself particularly privileged to have been able to see this performance. It's rather marvelous to see that, while we praise Shakespeare's words all the time, in the end, Shakespeare was really a master of theatre as well. I didn't understand a word that was spoken on that stage tonight except Andrew and Viola's French, but it just didn't matter when it was in such tremendously skilled theatrical hands.
I just got back from seeing the Chekhov International Theatre Festival's production of Twelfth Night and it was a;dsfjls;kdajflksakljfkajAMAZING.
JEEZY CREEZY.
It's been awhile since I saw something that excited me this much all the way through, leaving me slightly breathless by the end. I remembered reading great reviews when the production was in NYC some time ago, but I just wasn't prepared for what I got.
Because- SURPRISE! I GOT BOYS IN SKIRTS!!!! The company was founded by Declan Donnellan (who was there tonight and took a bow! *FANGIRL SPASM*) of Cheek by Jowl fame, so I guess I should have realized? But I didn't, or I had forgotten, I DON'T KNOW ALL I KNOW IS THAT ALL-MALE SHAKESPEARE IS MY FAVORITE THING AND I GOT IT TONIGHT IN SPAAAAAAADES. We all know that I am pretty much a fan of genderfuck in any context, but I think tonight I realized one of the myriad of reasons why I like it so much in my Shakespeare- I can't speak for what it must have been with boys in the company, but when men play all the roles, you can't hide behind an artifice of realism. You have to face that this is THEATRE, this is make believe, and when you aren't worrying about buying the appearance of truth, you can sometimes get more readily at the truths that lie underneath the surface. Admittedly, metatheatricality is very much my thing, so this is just how I'm seeing this. I also probably just REALLY REALLY LIKE when boys put on skirts (and then proceed to act as people, not mincing feminine stereotypes).
One of the other things I liked so much about this production was how damn SPARE it was. The stage was bare except for some black (later, white) banners in the back half and a few chairs or a table that were brought on at times. The costumes were also very, very simple. I love spectacle as much as the next girl, but I wish more people understood how little Shakespeare NEEDS it. Who knows? Maybe Shakespeare would have written his plays differently if he had the resources of today, but he DIDN'T. He wrote them for a theatre with a bare stage and simple props that was supposed to clip along speedily, and when we do the plays that way today, BY GOLLY isn't it funny how well they work...
On to the performances. It's worth mentioning that this was performed in Russian. It's my first time ever seeing ANY play in a foreign language (admittedly, with supertitles), much less a Shakespeare play (I consider it one of the greatest benefits of being an English speaker that I can read Shakespeare in its original form). Luckily, I know Twelfth Night best of all his plays, so even though I can't help but read titles when they're given to me, I could tune them out for long stretches and just watch the actors GO. It's kind of a lovely way to watch a show- you really get to focus on faces and physicalities in a way that you might not when there are words you're paying greater attention to competing with them. The text got cut a lot, but I noticed it particularly because of the titles, which were often representing only half the lines the actors were saying. Because I know the play so well, I could SEE them acting lines that the projection screen weren't displaying, and I wonder why that is. Sometimes, I imagine it's a speed thing (if the actors are galloping through Shakespeare's text, that would be too much to keep up with), but I guess it might also have been because they didn't think we could Get It fast enough? I admit, Shakespeare is more dense than a lot of opera libretti, which is something I'm more familiar with taking in via titles, so I guess that makes sense. WHATEVS. It didn't really bother me.
Funnily enough, I was most fascinated by Maria in this production. I've never seen an actor give her so much depth, presented so much of a fully-formed PERSON on stage. There was something so very jaded in her that you could see in the way she held herself, or smoked a cigarette (there was a lot of that from both Maria and Olivia, surprisingly enough)- she'd been burned by life and I was just ITCHING to know HOW and WHY and wanting so much more of her story. This was most staggeringly apparent in the late night singing of catches with Toby, Andrew, and Feste. This Toby was nastier than many I've seen, a little more repulsive in the earlier scenes, and here, turned violent. He actually hit Maria in the scene, eliciting gasps from the audience. Toby was caught up in a tantrum and didn't even notice that he'd struck her to the floor, sobbing. The other men lept up and helped her, holding back Toby, but DAMN- it was genuinely scary and unexpected and heartbreaking, seeing Maria curled in on herself in a chair, sobbing and hiding her face while Toby just WENT ON. He eventually realized what he'd done and repented, trying to cozy back up to Maria. When he didn't succeed, he ended up moving on and trying to sing a catch to coax her back- here, not one of Shakespeare's but, judging from the audience reaction (there were a LOT of Russian speakers in the audience, from what I heard), with a traditional drinking song. Maria pulled herself up, drank four shots of vodka with a shaking hand, and then joined in the song, ending up leading the whole pack of them.
Like, DAMN. WHAT A CHOICE.
Just as striking (although they did drop the ball in the second half) was Maria at the gulling of Malvolio. The production had cut Fabian entirely, so Maria was with the men in the "box tree" (here, hiding behind the long black banners that hung upstage). The usual fun was had, but again, this production did something I've not seen before with Malvolio. This is "supposed" to be the big comic scene where we all laugh at Malvolio's posturing and absurdity, relishing the impending fall. This Malvolio, however, broke my heart. Instead of comic business, he wept while reading the letter, sobs of joy that he'd never thought he could be so lucky as to be loved. And Maria, watching this til the end, began to weep herself- the only one on stage who realized just how awful a trick this really was to play on anyone, even someone as unpleasant as Malvolio.
I HAVE CHILLS NOW, JUST THINKING BACK ON IT.
In the second half, they were kind of stuck with the realities of the text- Maria takes part in all the terrible things they do to Malvolio, so it didn't make quite as much sense, but WHATEVER IT WAS AMAZING. The mood changes in that scene were SO fast and SO devastating and effective.
As for everyone else, they really were all such a strong cast. The play actually started with the full cast on stage, wearing identical white shirts, black suspenders and black trousers. The actor who would be Viola stepped forward, and began with 'My father', which was echoed around and around in the company. She finished it: 'My father had a daughter', as the company came up and encircled her. When they stepped back, they had wrapped a black skirt over her trousers and bam- there was our Viola, as she ended with "I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers, too. Yet I know not.” She ran offstage as Orsino came forward and the cast started to play guitars, trumpets, and tambourines for the opening music. When Orsino named Olivia, he picked another actor out of the crowd and wrapped a skirt around her himself. She stayed onstage throughout his speech, standing there sadly and in silence until the end, when she was escorted off by the actors who would return as Maria and Toby. It was SO DELICIOUSLY THEATRICAL and layered with meaning.
I loved this Viola, as you always should in a Twelfth Night. The costuming added in some wonderful nuances- when she came back, wearing a long, golden velvet sheathe dress, well. It's such a strikingly vulnerable and charged sight- a young man wearing a dress. He didn't wear a wig or fancy makeup- it was just that thin dress and his bearing that made him a woman. Even in trousers (actually, a dapper cream suit in a sea of black costumes in the first half), he made his femininity in carefully chosen ways: the way he sat and then held himself in a chair was always revealing. When she did the ring soliloquy, this Viola stole the chance to try on a lovely piece of jewelry that chance had given her, and even brought out a tiny compact mirror to see the effect of it against her face. It was another one of those, WHY haven't I ever seen anyone try this before? moments. OF COURSE Viola, so isolated in her disguise, would grab at a moment of femininity. But vulnerable really was the word for this Viola- she seemed so fragile at times that, like Orsino, you couldn't help but want to comfort her and assure her that nothing would harm her. She also had a habit of letting herself be free in these little snatches that should would jump back from- during 'Come away, death,' she actually stood with the musicians and played the tambourine. This was the most upbeat, almost smarmy (this happened with a lot of Feste's songs, but it worked in Russian) I've ever heard this song, but OH MY GOD VIOLA AND HER TAMBOURINE. At first she played it normally, but then got flashier and flashier, adding in swoops and spin and even a LEAP before finally reigning herself in when she noticed Orsino noticing. She was always the one who first noticed and pulled back when things got too intimate with Orsino- leaning her head on his shoulder, embracing him too long and too closely...
They didn't actually play into a sexual attraction between Viola and Orsino as much as other productions I've seen. Orsino seemed surprised over and over again that he opened himself up so much to Cesario, let him in where others would not be allowed. This led to some tension in the final scene that was visible in all the characters- this Orsino couldn't bring himself to embrace Viola until she came back later in her velvet dress. You could see all the others on stage wanted to DO something, to make Orsino realize he was a lucky guy and just kiss the damn girl, but I remember noticing Maria holding them back, realizing that if it was going to happen, it had to come from Orsino himself. He did finally kiss Viola, but damn- it was restrained. This wasn't the blissful happy ending I'm used to getting from this play.
There was also a lovely little stolen moment for Olivia and Feste. Again, we had a man wearing a thin black cotten dress on stage, a scarf wrapped around his head. The actor looked so very defenseless that when Olivia went right to a desk and began to work through a stack of papers, we could see that she was keeping herself safe from the world, secluded away with her work. She stayed there until the end of Feste's 'take away the fool' proof, until she leapt up to strike him, before crumpling and embracing him in tears. He offered her a handkerchief, finally, which grew like a magicians and became her veil- a lovely touch. When she had shooed away all her family and followers, she had this marvelous moment with Feste. She sat on the edge of her desk and shared a ciagrette with the fool and it was AMAZING. I'd never seen that from an Olivia before- she's always played so very uptight until she falls in love, but here, you could see that she was always rather wonderful and you wanted to know more about her.
They staged a lot of moments in these funny chase patterns. When Cesario first came in, Olivia, Maria, and Feste all wore veils and shared Olivia's lines between them, circling around Viola and confusing her utterly. The final scene had the same idea- first Viola running away from Olivia and Orsino chasing afterward, then the reverse when Orsino turned on Viola for Cesario's supposed betrayal. When Andrew entered with his hurt, all the characters rushed to him at down right- blocking Viola from view when Sebastian entered up right. They formed a brilliant and funny human shield that really worked for how the scene played out. They held off the hug as the script actually calls for- they didn't embrace until they were returned and stole a moment at center. It's one of the delights of having a man play a woman in that, as they hugged, Sebastian could lean back and lift Viola off her feet and Viola could get a delighted laugh simply by the actor popping his feet up.
The last person to really need talking about tonight is Antonio. He didn't really make a mark until he came on to defend the supposed-Sebastian. The fight scene was done quite cleverly- Andrew and Viola charged and missed each other, then Viola stayed in her corner and pushed Feste (not Fabian, obviously) toward Andrew in her place, meaning that Andrew ran right into her and they clutched each other in fear for a long moment before they realized who each other was, which led Viola to shriek again and run straight into Antonio. Antonio, bless, scooped her up in his arms in protection. It made it all the more upsetting, then, when he came to demand his purse. Viola TRIED, she really did- she gave him half her money and then, surprisingly, the other half as well, but Antonio was angrier than I've ever seen.
This meant that when we reached the end of the play, poor Antonio was the focus. He became more and more upset as he was largely forgotten by all- until Feste came up to him and began to sing the final song. All the actors reentered with their instruments and the song was sung by the whole company as they danced in a circle around Antonio until he finally was cheered. In the midst of the good spirits, Malvolio came out with a tray of champagne flutes for all the cast. They took their champagne, toasted themselves and the audience- and then Malvolio, in a spotlight, finally said 'I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you' FADE TO BLACK HO SHIT MAN DID THAT REALLY JUST HAPPEN?
I read about this production four years ago and thought then, Damn. I really wish I could have been able to see that. Now I have. I see a lot of theatre and a lot of it has been very, very good, but I consider myself particularly privileged to have been able to see this performance. It's rather marvelous to see that, while we praise Shakespeare's words all the time, in the end, Shakespeare was really a master of theatre as well. I didn't understand a word that was spoken on that stage tonight except Andrew and Viola's French, but it just didn't matter when it was in such tremendously skilled theatrical hands.