The Tempest
Jul. 20th, 2008 10:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jinianIn short: Best production ever.
Every summer, a group in Friday Harbor puts on a Shakespeare play. The stage is just out in back of someone's house, but what a backyard. It's on the edge of a steep decline, where you can glimpse the seawater far below and a wide expanse of sky behind the players. The whole thing is surrounded by beautiful evergreens, brush, and wildlife. The time? Sunset. There is no play better suited to that environment than The Tempest, and the experience was accordingly amazing.
We were all given black masks as we came in, with the eyeholes taped over, and during the intro they mentioned that the masks were protective vs. storms. Suddenly, a woman in a fluorescent road-work vest ran in to warn that there was a tempest on the way! We all masked up (I not peeking even though one of my eyes was incompletely taped), and heard the sounds of tumultuous waves and a ship's flapping sails. The cold breeziness of the venue was perfect. The first few lines were given while we were still masked, and then once the action moved to the island we could see again.
Prospero and Miranda appeared in obviously salt-stained and dye-bled clothes, which nonetheless had a visual echo with each other in same-height bands at the bottom of her dress and his wizard's robe. I was especially impressed with this piece of costuming, though no one else in the group noticed it. (We did, on later analysis, wonder just how many years' worth of women's clothing P had brought for his three-year-old, but it was good in the moment.) Overall the costumes, particularly the distressing, were excellent.
They did a reasonable job incorporating some women into roles; Gonzala was a chirpy older woman in bright, new-agey draperies, giving a new dimension to the role's optimism, and Stephanie was a great drunken cook. The ratio of women to men was between 1/3 and 1/4, so, not to parity but not a bad effort given that there is ONE woman in the original. Both women were hilarious, but I mourned the scansion (lord vs. lady) just a little.
Ariel was a woman in a silver body suit with gloves and no underwear of any kind. She was wrapped around with a black fishing net, which was clearly her bondage to Prospero, and wore a marvelous close-fitting cap of peacock feathers. I found her too hammy and overwrought at first, but her physical movements were strong, smooth, and expressive, and eventually I was convinced that they'd cast her for her exceptional singing ability.
Caliban was a big, dirty man dressed in sackcloth with swirling tattoos on half his face. When he first came out, with surly shouting, the dogs off to our side of the stage growled at him. Much giggling ensued. Overall the dogs were very good, despite unusual provocation in the form of fairy hoots and yaps from the shrubbery behind them.
When the characters were talking about the idyllic life to be led upon the island, the sunset was just painting clouds behind them and the birds were singing on cue.
We'd had a running joke on about using the University's van to attend this non-curriculum event, and rationalizations abounded. I insisted that "of his bones are coral made/ those are pearls which were his eyes" was plenty marine-invertebrate enough, but claims that we were collecting "culture/s" were also made. When Ferdinand took off his shirt to haul driftwood logs around the stage, though, we had the ultimate justification; classmate T murmured, "That is one fine deuterostome."
Trinculo got a titty twister from Stephanie at one point, which was a fine way of updating the ribaldry of Shakespeare to something modern audiences would enjoy being a little shocked by.
Given that the play was cut down to an hour and forty minutes, we all agreed that the "no shagging Miranda before you're married, son" speech could have been more profitably tossed over the cliff, but they did it. The wedding (betrothal, I guess, but it felt very wedding-like here) to follow was stunning. The driftwood sticks with tied strips of fabric and feathers were strange, but the lovers were adorable. I can't describe the music! There were a few wooden flutes, but mostly Prospero was singing, spirits in fantastic manila masks were singing in harmony, Ariel was singing high over them all -- I was blown away.
I thought they must have cut some actual contrition from Antonio and Sebastian, but I don't see it in the original either! I did like the forgiveness scene; Ariel physically interposed herself in an attitude of pleading between Prospero and the bewitched Antonio when Prospero became furious with him.
Perfect minimalist setting, great acting, very natural-sounding language, just completely wonderful.
(And to think, some people cut out early because they had tickets to see the late Batman show. We convinced them to go back next weekend, though!)
Every summer, a group in Friday Harbor puts on a Shakespeare play. The stage is just out in back of someone's house, but what a backyard. It's on the edge of a steep decline, where you can glimpse the seawater far below and a wide expanse of sky behind the players. The whole thing is surrounded by beautiful evergreens, brush, and wildlife. The time? Sunset. There is no play better suited to that environment than The Tempest, and the experience was accordingly amazing.
We were all given black masks as we came in, with the eyeholes taped over, and during the intro they mentioned that the masks were protective vs. storms. Suddenly, a woman in a fluorescent road-work vest ran in to warn that there was a tempest on the way! We all masked up (I not peeking even though one of my eyes was incompletely taped), and heard the sounds of tumultuous waves and a ship's flapping sails. The cold breeziness of the venue was perfect. The first few lines were given while we were still masked, and then once the action moved to the island we could see again.
Prospero and Miranda appeared in obviously salt-stained and dye-bled clothes, which nonetheless had a visual echo with each other in same-height bands at the bottom of her dress and his wizard's robe. I was especially impressed with this piece of costuming, though no one else in the group noticed it. (We did, on later analysis, wonder just how many years' worth of women's clothing P had brought for his three-year-old, but it was good in the moment.) Overall the costumes, particularly the distressing, were excellent.
They did a reasonable job incorporating some women into roles; Gonzala was a chirpy older woman in bright, new-agey draperies, giving a new dimension to the role's optimism, and Stephanie was a great drunken cook. The ratio of women to men was between 1/3 and 1/4, so, not to parity but not a bad effort given that there is ONE woman in the original. Both women were hilarious, but I mourned the scansion (lord vs. lady) just a little.
Ariel was a woman in a silver body suit with gloves and no underwear of any kind. She was wrapped around with a black fishing net, which was clearly her bondage to Prospero, and wore a marvelous close-fitting cap of peacock feathers. I found her too hammy and overwrought at first, but her physical movements were strong, smooth, and expressive, and eventually I was convinced that they'd cast her for her exceptional singing ability.
Caliban was a big, dirty man dressed in sackcloth with swirling tattoos on half his face. When he first came out, with surly shouting, the dogs off to our side of the stage growled at him. Much giggling ensued. Overall the dogs were very good, despite unusual provocation in the form of fairy hoots and yaps from the shrubbery behind them.
When the characters were talking about the idyllic life to be led upon the island, the sunset was just painting clouds behind them and the birds were singing on cue.
We'd had a running joke on about using the University's van to attend this non-curriculum event, and rationalizations abounded. I insisted that "of his bones are coral made/ those are pearls which were his eyes" was plenty marine-invertebrate enough, but claims that we were collecting "culture/s" were also made. When Ferdinand took off his shirt to haul driftwood logs around the stage, though, we had the ultimate justification; classmate T murmured, "That is one fine deuterostome."
Trinculo got a titty twister from Stephanie at one point, which was a fine way of updating the ribaldry of Shakespeare to something modern audiences would enjoy being a little shocked by.
Given that the play was cut down to an hour and forty minutes, we all agreed that the "no shagging Miranda before you're married, son" speech could have been more profitably tossed over the cliff, but they did it. The wedding (betrothal, I guess, but it felt very wedding-like here) to follow was stunning. The driftwood sticks with tied strips of fabric and feathers were strange, but the lovers were adorable. I can't describe the music! There were a few wooden flutes, but mostly Prospero was singing, spirits in fantastic manila masks were singing in harmony, Ariel was singing high over them all -- I was blown away.
I thought they must have cut some actual contrition from Antonio and Sebastian, but I don't see it in the original either! I did like the forgiveness scene; Ariel physically interposed herself in an attitude of pleading between Prospero and the bewitched Antonio when Prospero became furious with him.
Perfect minimalist setting, great acting, very natural-sounding language, just completely wonderful.
(And to think, some people cut out early because they had tickets to see the late Batman show. We convinced them to go back next weekend, though!)
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no subject
Date: 2008-07-20 10:47 pm (UTC)A Guthrie production ten or so years ago also had a woman playing Ariel. She was brilliant, but they couldn't (that is, I assume the director couldn't) figure out exactly what the subtext of her relationship with Prospero was, which was irksome.
P.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-21 05:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-21 02:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-21 03:27 pm (UTC)