Day 10: A day off...

Day 10: Visit to the Middle Temple

            Henry IV, Part 1 and 2

            Visit to the Middle Temple

            Interestingly enough, this is one place that wasn’t completely demolished in WWII. What a stunning building. It was, however, rebuilt after the Great Fire of 1666.

            This place is important because it is where the court would invite acting troupes to come perform privately. In the great hall, there were two arched entries, no doubt used for entrances for the make-shift stage. On the opposite end of the hall, where the higher-ups would sit, was a long oak table, carved entirely out of a single tree. Unbelievable.

            Side note: had the best pizza of my life today. Bacon, feta, spinach, cherry tomatoes, red onion, and mozzarella. I also learned how to get red wine out of cotton today. You can take me anywhere, really.

            Henry IV, Part 1 and 2

            Part 1 is by far a stronger show. It’s more unified. In this one, Falstaff is much more connected to the rest of the cast. Part 2 is definitely a show for an audience who loves Falstaff and wants to see more of him. This is evident because it’s FULL of soliloquies. It must have been Shakespeare’s intention, but Part 2 is just so jarring because it’s two families—the monarchy and the underworld—are so separated. It’s like watching two different plays at the same time, that occasionally interweave.

            Additionally, I thought transitions in Part 1 moved fluidly and effectively. I didn’t think it felt “modernized” either, for the most part, which was interesting. One (more modern) moment in particular, which I thought was particularly effective, was the transition after the Hotspur and Lady Percy scene. She’s been hurt, and Hotspur (a horrendously general and indulgent actor, I’ll get to this later) has just left her. She simply stood center-center to regain her composure. The music started playing, and all the furniture for the next scene transitioned in, but all we could look at was the broken Lady Percy. It provided time for the transition, and a lovely silent acting moment for her. Moments like this were necessary in Part 2; while I thought the acting was excellent all around, it was a clunky show and hard to follow.

            The actor who doubled as Hotspur in Part 1 and Pistol in Part 2 was so hit-or-miss. I absolutely hated him in Part 1. As I said, general and indulgent. The beauty of this character (one of my absolute favorites) is that he is a perfect foil to Prince Hal because instead of over-complicating who he is and what he wants to be, he uses his passion (and hot-headedness, hence the nickname) to whittle down his objectives. He acts on impulse, but it’s a pure, uncomplicated impulse. This is also why this scene between him and his wife Lady Percy should be absolutely electric…which it wasn’t. Instead, his entire character was like dealing with, as Anna said, a petulant child. He was so obnoxious. On the other hand, as Pistol, who truly is reckless, he was fantastic. I would not say this is poor casting, I would say it was either something Dominic Dromgoole overlooked (and if so, shame on him), or something an indulgent actor manipulated after the director left.

            Also, I stood in the yard as a groundling for Part 1 and was way up in the top balcony in the corner bay for Part 2, where the royalty would sit. Couldn’t see a damn thing onstage, but the royalty was more concerned with being seen, which I guess would have made these seats perfect—I could see everyone in the audience who wasn’t directly below me. 

Day 9: Free Cappuccinos

Day 9: The Alchemy of Voice

            Class with Globe Education

            Intro to Henry IV, Part 2

            War Horse

            The Alchemy of Voice with Stewart Pearce

            Yet another exciting day with the voice god. We focused a lot on finding our voice through breath, using movement. We worked with the opening Henry V speech, “O for a muse of fire,” trying singing it, yelling it, instructing it, seducing it (“Think of ice cream, darling, with lots and lots of  that soothing chocolate syrup—very sexy darling!”) These are all voices we can “type” in a way; we immediately know their placement, and in the process, find a middle ground that works.

            Some good applicable notes today. When playing a different age, it’s about placement, not timbre. A low tone comes from placement, not muscling into a different timbre.

            Favorite quote of the day: “It’s not (tight throat voice) ‘Can I have a cappuccino?’ it’s (heart-placed voice) ‘Can I have a cappuccino?’ and with that, you’ll not only get the cappuccino, you’ll get it for free.”

            Class with Globe Education Director Patrick Spottiswoode

            Oh. my. goodness. I’m surrounded by bountiful knowledge. I really hope I can work with people like this someday. Great discussions about Othello, publishing and licensing today.

            Fun facts about Othello and culture. First, this show was used as a part of the 2004 project Shakespeare and Islam. Handkerchiefs were carried by Turkish women as a sort of symbol of status and loyalty. They were big, and beautifully embroidered. So it’s obviously more than a handkerchief. Also, it takes place in Venice. Venetians were named after a saint of sorts. But there’s no Saint Desdemona. Her name is actually a derivative from the Turkish word for handkerchief. On the other hand, Saint Iago was the saint who ordered the expulsion of all moors from Italy. Perhaps Desdemona was the attempt to weave two cultures together?

            As for publishing the folios and quartos, it is important to know that they were all published posthumously by Ben Jonson. In the 1622 Frankfurt Book Fair, it was listed in the catalogue, and was the first English book to be included here.

            Other interesting notes on the manuscripts:

·      More lines meant more paper, which was rolled—hence, “role.” If the actor had fewer lines, they were given sides on pieces of paper—hence, “part.”

·      The printing presses were washed with a urine-based solution, and when mixed with the ink, the fumes caused blindness. So many printers went blind. The printing letters were kept in cases stacked on a wall. Big letters were kept in the “upper case” and smaller letters in the “lower case.” And if the printer had a pint over lunch, one can imagine the various differences in spellings, syntax, punctuation, etc.

·      Why does the 1622 Othello have no song for Desdemona, when the 1623 does? Because the boy actor playing Desdemona in 1623 could sing, and the one playing her in 1622 couldn’t.

·      In 1606, King James issued a “no cursing onstage” law. The first Othello manuscript curses (i.e. ‘S’blood, or Christ’s blood). The later versions don’t.

·      Prologue use: Romeo and Juliet has a prologue. It first opened in the Curtain, the bear-baiting and sword fighting ring. It has a prologue to shut up the audience and promise them the fights they want, in addition to the love story. Hamlet does not have a prologue, but throws the audience into the confusion of the night guards. Also, how are you going to explain the plot of Hamlet in a prologue, seriously? So why are they scared? Whatever it is, it’s called a “thing” (a prostitute?), then an “apparition,” a four-syllable word to let the snooty ones sitting in chairs at the top know it’s a ghost story. But the groundlings, who have no idea what the hell an ap-par-i-tion is are caught up in the frenzy of the guards until they actually see the ghost. As Patrick said, “Something’s rotten in the state of playwrights.” Talk about audience analysis!

           

            Intro to Henry IV, Part 2 with Henry Schvey

            I hated reading this play. I see no reason why the two fantastic scenes in which Hal mistakes his father’s sleep for his death and steals the crown, and when he betrays his long time friend Falstaff, couldn’t be put into the end of Part 1 or Henry V. I don’t see why an entire character took three plays to tell his whole story.

            And so the question is raised: are Part 1 and 2 meant as a cycle? That’s how we’re going to see them later this week, and Part 2 today isn’t usually done without Part 1. The first history cycle set was written because the first one kept making money, so another was written, and then a prequel. (Star Wars, anyone?)

            Some notes from class: the first part is about youth, the second is about age. The play opens with an allegorical character called Rumor; from the beginning, we are placed in a state of anxiety between truth and falsehood.            

            Something else I’ve been toying with is the expectation to have a leader of two completely different worlds. The monarchy expects an heir to the throne, and Hal is obligated to fulfill this role. Adversely, the “underworld,” if you will, of Falstaff and Bardolph, expects a sort of king. This king is obviously Falstaff, but in Part 2, he’s getting old. So how do you choose a “fit” ruler? I don’t have any answers, but I’m really interested in going back to the text soon.

            War Horse

            This was actually last night, I just had a lot more to say about it.

            The advertisements looked so great for this show. Based on a novel, set in Dover, it’s a story about a boy whose father, drunk at an auction, outbids his top-dog brother for spite, jealously, or what-have-you. The money should have gone to pay the mortgage. So the boy raises the colt into a beautiful, strong horse named Joey, until his father has made a bet that the horse can make money by plowing. In fear of his father selling or killing the horse, he desperately teaches Joey how to plow. They miraculously win the bet. When WWI breaks loose, the father—again desperate for money—sells Joey to the army. The boy is heartbroken, and upon learning of the lieutenant’s death, is convinced Joey died too. He joins the army. Joey and another stallion have been tossed between German, French, and English soldiers, depending on who was fighting whom, and eventually gets caught in the wire in the field. Rescued, he is returned to an English base where the boy is recovering from a tear gas incident. Joey hears his voice, and the nearly blind young man is poignantly reunited with his horse.

            Gosh, recounting the story gives me goosebumps. It was such a beautiful moment onstage. And I shan’t forget to mention: THE HORSES WERE ALL PUPPETS! They were beautifully crafted instruments manipulated by three puppeteers, and could actually be ridden! At home on the farm, there was a goose, which was charmingly comic always wanting indoors, and was interesting to watch because the puppeteer who pushed it around like an old-fashioned lawn mower fascinatingly took on the sort of poise as the goose. All around, the puppetry was simply outstanding.

            Unfortunately, spectacle dominated this show. It’s a story about a horse, and the horses were great. The woman who played the mother was atrociously fake, and I felt that outside the horse, she needed to be her son’s second driving force. Altogether, the acting wasn’t bad, but it was obviously a secondary focus, which I didn’t appreciate. Spectacle can’t carry acting, but good acting can carry anything. The stage rotated unnecessarily. There was one scene in which I could see a silhouette of a tank through some lighting and fog. I was appalled when they actually brought an entire tank onstage. It was a sort of puppet in itself, but it was only slightly smaller than lifesize, and was only onstage for less than a minute. Really, it’s the only reason why I saw they needed such a huge stage for such a minimalist set. It was also directed cinematically, which makes me think this would make an outstanding movie. I’m just not sure about the play.

            Which raises an interesting question: with all that was going on the play that remineded me of a movie, how do I feel about cinematic directing on stage? Frankly, this is the only piece I’ve encountered like this, and I was really off-put by it. But I suppose I don’t have anything substantial against it, unless as in this production, the acting takes a backseat. 

Day 8: Soph-is-tic-at-ed Ed-u-ca-tion

Day 8: Heaven to Hell Tour

            Class with the Globe Ed. Director

            Table Work

            Dressing Shakespeare’s Actors

            Heaven to Hell Tour with Jason Benterman

            Jason is the company stage manager for the Globe. He’s young, or at least young at heart, and has a fantastic sense of humor for 8am. We toured the technical workings of the stage. The pit is maybe—maybe—five feet high. There isn’t really a fly system, only a trap with harnesses from the ceiling. “There’s no use hiding it,” said Jason, “Shakespeare didn’t, and audiences aren’t stupid.”

            Lots of holes were drilled into the heavens that still needed filled. Katrina Lindsay, who designed an elaborate set for Macbeth a year or so ago, decided to have a Dante-style ring of hell above the stage. And drilled through everything to support it. I’m sorry. This is a great idea, but it was forced into the space. It was unnecessary. Here’s a link to the design though, just a few photos:

            http://www.shakespeares-globe.org/theatre/annualtheatreseason/macbeth/

            Anyway, got to tour into a special climate-controlled costume library where all the £1000+ garments were. Also, some authentic Elizabethan garments! These, obviously, are kept in boxes. Apparently, tours don’t get to see these. But since we’re the acting group… :)

            In the pit there was a strange shrine of what looked like trash from various shows. Turns out, the black box holds the ashes of Sam and Charlotte Wanamaker (Sam rebuilt the Globe in the last 30 years and co-founded the Globe Education Program with Patrick Spottiswoode). The “trash” was stuff found around Sam’s office when the building was demolished. There’s also a box given (to/from?) Mark Rylance to/from Zoe Wanamaker. Only they know what’s in it, and only Mark has the key to the ashes. No one gets to see this beautiful eulogy, but we did.

            Also, asked Jason about auditioning. Rarely do they hold open auditions (they get over 150 applications a week!), but they will take two actors out of the master’s schools, the actor being selected by the school. My friend joked when I was asking questions, “She’s planning.” England, just you wait. Jason was great too—shaking hands, he said, “See you soon, again, yes?” Obviously, just being nice, but it was really empowering.

            Class with Patrick Spottiswoode

            Patrick is the other co-founder of the Globe Education Center. He’s absolutely brilliant and energetic, with a wealth of knowledge spilling out of him like the fountain of youth. Really—he has to be over 50, and it keeps him young.

            He joked and played (it was hardly a lecture, please) about language and its development at the turn of the 17^th century. English was an “impoverished tongue,” a harsh monosyllabic language that needed Latin ed-u-ca-tion, and, if you were lucky, university Greek soph-is-tic-a-tion. But, like Patrick, I could go on forever about this.

            So, some fun things I learned:

·      Acoustics appropriated language. If you’re in the street, you don’t use iambic pentameter.

·      English folklore has Mercury pouring the languages of the world all over each country. He ran out when he got to England, so he took the remnants of all the bottles and emptied them into what would become English.

·      In Shrew, Katerina gets pissy about being called Kate because, as an Italian woman of status, she would not be “reduced to an English monosyllabic bitch” (Patrick’s words, not mine)

·      Names like Jacques (pronounced Ja-ques for the sake of added syllables!) sounds an awful lot like jakes, a toilet flush

·      “Juliet can engage the heart in monosyllables.”

·      Shakespeare invented over 17,700 new words; King James and his newly translated Bible only used 7,000.

·      Romeo and Juliet opened in The Curtain, where bear-baiting and sword-fights were held. This is why R&J has more fights than any other play of his.

And so much more, my notebook is bursting.

            I love this place.

            Table Work with Anna

            Learned some great stuff doing table work with Anna for Kate’s and my scene from As You Like It. Rosalind and Celia have such a dynamically competitive relationship, which I hadn’t noticed before, seeing Celia only played as a caricature.

            I’ve never been a fan of first rehearsal read-throughs, because they’re self-indulgent. But a good picky table talk would be an awesome alternative to communicate a common vision and unite the cast. (Again, storing this away for Odd Couple.) I love that she didn’t allow us to talk about our scenes until table talk time. I felt so much more connected to the text, and so honest about my feelings. It was like Meisner and Shakespeare’s lovechild, so much give and take that I’ve never experienced until well into the process. So, why not start off on the right foot?

            Still struggling to refer to the character as “I” and not “she.” I’m trying very hard. But damnit, it’s called acting.

           

            Dressing Shakespeare’s Actors with Jenny Tiramani

            This woman is currently designing shows for the Met and some fantastic opera in France. Lucky dog. She worked for the Globe a few years ago. She never talked about women’s dress, which was disappointing. She gave some great advice though: “Wear the clothing, don’t let it wear you.” Confidence is everything.

            She talked a lot about silk velvet, horse-hair padding, and Malvolio’s yellow stockings.

            Also, didn’t know this before, crimson/vermillion dye was made from insects. And was wicked expensive. 

Day 6,7: Then to the elements be free!

            Finally a weekend! Went to see The Tempest, directed by Sam Mendes (eek!) on Saturday.

            Life changing. Really.

            A lot of the company didn’t like it, as we talked it over at the bar under the Old Vic. Here was what I loved about it:

·      Prospero is not a wicked sorcerer and was not portrayed as one. He was, in this production, a weary old man who had everything stripped from him (his studies, then his dukedom, banished to a god-forsaken island) and is desperately trying to control what he can. Unfortunately, that includes his daughter Miranda and a fairy-like creature he freed, Ariel. He realizes this knee-jerk reaction when his daughter falls in love with the prince, shipwrecked from the storm Prospero created (by accident or not). Such a humbling portrayal of a character who epitomizes forgiveness by showing it, and by allowing Miranda and Ariel to spread their wings. The last line of the play, to Ariel, “Then to the elements be free—fare thou well! Please thou draw near.” I cried it was so beautiful. It’s not even a request of “please draw near,” but “if it pleases you, draw near before you go.” Oh goodness.

·      Ariel: a fantastic portrayal of an androgynous character. When he was man-like, he was incredibly feminine; when woman-like, very masculine. There was even a time he came out in a beautiful, slinky aquamarine evening gown, and never for one minute did I think it could have been done otherwise. A haunting voice, and fantastic execution of the music in the play—always fit, always mesmerizing, appropriately. Also, loved the moment when Prospero asks if he forgot his horrible place before he was rescued. Ariel actually forgot—it was such a moment of pure embarrassment of this ethereal creature, very humbling. Being locked up in a tree isn’t something Ariel kept in his mind. This was a great father-like moment for Prospero too—annoyed, but still tender.

·      Miranda, played by Juliet Rylance (Mark’s daughter), seemed a little old for Miranda, and had a voice that we all agreed was a little husky for the role, but her innocence and purity was spot on. There was a great discussion at the bar about her inherent passion. Is it inherent, or was it too “knowing” for a young uncivilized thing like Miranda? I say it was a beautiful moment of instinctual passion. There was no holding back. Just as it should be.

·      Caliban: Prospero’s slave is often played as such—a slave. Lest we not forget in his first lines he admits to almost raping Miranda. Arguably to him, it would not have been rape, but this is a bigger discussion that, if you like, we can discuss over a very long coffee date. Before this, he was allowed into Prospero’s home; now, he’s confined to his cell in the ground. On the stage was a circle filled with sand. There was a small trap door down-stage-center underneath this, sand being held on, I’m guessing, some blankets folded creatively. Caliban ENTERED FROM THE SAND. I also loved that Caliban was actually human. I hate it when the lines about smelling fishy are actually costumed as fish. So stupid. It’s not a comedy, don’t do something that will get ridiculous laughter. This is a very complicated character. There are no answers, and this actor didn’t try to answer them. I liked this.

·      Staging of the storm: simple as possible. Prospero’s staff became a mast, a banister, et. al., and was held by Ariel, who orchestrated the whole thing. Absolutely fantastic minimalism.

·      There was a great mix of American, Irish, and British actors in this cast. Stephano and King Alonso were definitely American. Trinculo was Irish (and a fantastic actor), and I couldn’t identify any other non-Brits. Part of Mendes’ Bridge Project repertory tour is a mix of all these countries, which I really appreciate. It didn’t play up the dialects, it didn’t ignore them. Very well done.

And Edward Bennett (played Ferdinand) better not be married, or unavailable. Or gay. Because I call dibs.

            What a beautifully honest performance. There’s nothing better than an experience, be it a play or otherwise, that makes you want to hug your father, be a better person, and fall in love all in less than three hours. I dream I can be a part of such an innovative company that can bring this gift to people. Because that’s precisely what acting is: giving. 

Day 5: What is all this flack?

Day 5: Movement

            Scene Assignment

            Acting Workshop

            Movement with Glynn MacDonald

            Today was a day of elements and archetypes. We did some really fun work with Robert Southy’s poem “The Cataract of Ladore.” (I know how I’m starting the first rehearsal for The Odd Couple!) It’s a fantastic poem about a poet laureate telling his children about how the river flows, and it’s so exciting and full of great descriptive verbs. The element work we did was supposed to stimulate, respectively, our bodily elements. Earth is our skin, and anything tangible. Water is our blood, sweat and tears. Air is our lifeline. Fire is our nervous system’s electrical impulses, “what a neurologist described as the mice running under your skin.” There are four poses to symbolize and stimulate these energies. This was also done facing our scene partners to connect with them.

            Glynn gave me a great note today. When we got up to say our 6-8 verbs from the poem, and I completely blanked when I stepped up there (we’d only had the poem for about 15 minutes). I wasn’t heartbroken, I joked through asking what the words were, and she stopped me dead. “What the hell is this? What is all this flack? I want to see you, but you’re hiding behind all this flack.” I hadn’t thought about it this way before. I do this all the time; Faith Fossett, bless her heart and every ounce of talent she possesses, was notorious for doing this, and now I recognize a name for it. It’s very easy to play the game, whatever that means to you. And we can get away with it at NWU. But damn, Glynn didn’t care a bit. She wanted to see what you came to show her, and it wasn’t that façade you put up when you’re embarrassed or uncomfortable.

            Scene Assignment

            It’s funny that my 6’2” friend Kate and I paired up in movement and joked about how we could be a powerhouse of womanhood onstage together, because sure enough, we’re paired! We’re doing As You Like It, III.i. I’m playing Rosalind, and she’s Celia. This is going to be a blast.

            Anna also said a few things that really hit the director in me, not so much the actor. She insisted that we read the play before Monday, but that we refrain from discussing anything with our scene partners until our table talk on Monday. She said we’ll all create movies in our heads, that’s just how it is. And it will be a good movie. But when you do this, and you discuss, then you’re essentially planning, and then detracting from what discoveries you could make in rehearsal. She talks about scoring out our actions in our scenes, but also says you shouldn’t do this first—you should do it as you discover them. It lends itself to more productive rehearsal processes. I’m really going to try to encourage this for The Odd Couple cast.

            Acting Workshop with Jane Lapotaire

            Last time with Jane! I didn’t realize this until after we’d gone home. We really ripped things apart today. Everyone made fantastic discoveries, all perpetuated by Jane directing us back to the text. Everything really is there! There isn’t “interpretation,” so stop imposing! Read closer!

            I realized I’ve been reading Elizabeth completely incorrectly, at least for this scene. She has realized the gravity of the situation, and it is Elizabeth’s change to a timid, soft heart that prompts Anne’s monologue. When Elizabeth says, “wish thyself no harm,” she means it (I was totally imposing!) It is her moment of goodbye to Anne. And Anne responds with, “I can’t un-wish what I’ve already cursed on myself.” Jane didn’t mind my first interpretation, but today she said it borders on Blanche DuBois, which is not where the play should go.

            So here’s the question: in an audition, do you use the eye-catching character journey which is slightly interpreted and risk not getting a call-back for the appropriate contextual reading? Or do you stick to the text and risk losing the intensity of the character without the scene’s build-up? Tough call. Open for discussion.

            Tonight was our first night off in awhile. Went out for Chinese food, then out to the pubs for bonding with the company. We went to a local pub a couple blocks from St. Paul’s on the other side of the river. Unfortunately it closed at 11, so we walked around the corner (passing many pubs which were also closing at the same time, but good for future reference) and went dancing at a club. We were there until about 1, and then from 1-3 (yes, a.m.) we went to this piano that was sitting on the sidewalk across the street from St. Paul’s. It was there every day, all day, until Sunday night. For the hell of it. We met two fantastic musicians, Catherine and Paul, who played for us and with us. One of the guys in the company, Jeremy, whipped out some Ben Folds, which broke our show tune streak. Rent is great when we’ve been drinking together. :)

Day 4: Yes, but how does that FEEL?

Day 4: Alchemy of Voice

            Acting Workshop

            Intro to Henry IV, Part 1

            Globe Stage Time

            Alchemy of Voice with Steven Pearce

            Steven Pearce is a god. I’d like to start with that. Now that the most important part of this is out of the way, I would also like for those of you reading to bear with me as I explain. Steven is quite the eccentric individual. Which is code for “a god.”

            He opened the class with a brief description of sound, particularly as it relates to our body. There’s a lot of construction going on next door, and he used that as a great example. He called it acoustic toxicity, which fights with your natural sound. This causes us to become unbalanced.

            He also explained that our voices have shifted into our throats and necks from our chests because of the world we live in today. We work from the bust up on computers every day. This is the part of our body we use and need. We have neglected the heart, the torso, the core.

            We did some work with chi, charkas, whatever you like to call the energy in you.

            My favorite part of the workshop though was after we’d finished our releasing and balancing exercises. We stood up and found our voices in the four elemental locations, from the bottom up: earth, water, air, fire. Earth is in our key, water in our gut, air in our throat, and fire resonated through our ears. Each element used a different vowel: earth used ho; water hu; air, ha; and fire, hi. It was amazing, I could feel the sound resonating so much in each part of my body. Obviously, fire would be an obvious one, especially for someone like me who has been vocally trained. But I’ve never felt my voice in my belly, or in my sternum. It was fantastic. Steven and Glynn talk about this a lot, living in your body. I felt like I had so much power, and so much command over my body and my voice.

            Acting Workshop with Jane Lapotaire

            Staging notes on the Globe stage: Shakespearean actors played from what is essentially the apron, but often played upstage, facing the tiring house, which would cater to the people sitting in the top of the first bay…the ones with the money. She also said we can never “un-learn” our proscenium technique. This is especially challenging, considering the two huge pillars stuck in the middle of the Globe stage. She showed us how to make a figure-eight around them. I don’t think I can apply it to my particular monologue, but I can definitely see how it would work for any soliloquy.

            She really stressed simplicity today. These characters don’t possess a 20^th century knowing onstage. She said you should discover things as you say them, like you “just landed on the moon.” She also said that “queens don’t move unless they have to.”

            Today was full of one liners! My favorite one: “Elizabethan words are like troubled friends; give them more love, not less.” I love this woman.

            She really liked my monologue today. She suggested I color the two exclamations at the beginning differently. I also tend to start a little high in intensity, which doesn’t leave me much room. The first thing she said though, when I finished my monologue was, “Well…she really told them, didn’t she?” Things are really starting to come together. I’m really proud of the growth I’m seeing in myself as an actor, and no doubt in everyone else—and in such a short time!

            Intro to Henry IV, Part 1 with Henry Schvey

            Main point: meta-theatricality:

·     Falstaff, in V.iv, in his discussion of what exactly it is to be alive or dead, and pretending to be either, respectively. What defines a man, spirit or body?

·     Hal embodies a prince, but doesn’t feel like one.

·     Prioritizing: is lying bad when it can save your life? What exactly is a counterfeit, and is it different than a liar? Is Henry IV a counterfeit king?

            We also talked about Hal’s interpretations. There are two guys in our group doing two different Hal monologues. They really helped drive the discussion. There’s the Machiavellian Hal, planning his turn around. There’s a reformed Hal, seizing the opportunity to change, and only pretending later it was “planned.” Then there’s the scared Hal, making excuses for his fear of not being good enough. I think he’s something of the second and third.

            There was a long discussion over the film “W” and Henry IV.  I’ve never seen it, but I imagine the comparison of George W. Bush to Hal would be a very interesting one.

            Globe Stage Time

            Last chance to do these monologues on the Globe stage! I realized today that at this point in the play, Anne is handing everything over to Elizabeth. This happens two different times to Elizabeth, once here, and once where Queen Margaret asks her, “Where are your sons? Where are our father?” referring to Richard’s bloodshed. This has a lot of weight for Elizabeth, and Anne is responsible for a change in her.

            Some great notes tonight: really landing the language, making full journey, stakes wonderfully high.

            I felt so in my head though. I kept thinking about staging, and who needed to see me from behind that hadn’t seen my face. I thought my movement, what little was there, felt unmotivated. But then I got great notes about the staging. I hate it when this happens—I just realize I can’t read myself onstage too much, I mean, without self-auditing. With age and experience!

Monologue

I figured you might want to know what I'm talking about when I talk about Lady Anne.

The story of Richard III: Richard really, really, really wants the crown. Fortunately, his own father, the king, is fatally ill and will die soon, so he murders every other potential heir to the throne, including his two nephews.

Lady Anne is Richard's widowed sister-in-law. She knows Richard murdered her husband. During his funeral procession, Richard approaches her, and woos her into marrying him--for political reasons (a widow marrying the brother was typical), and, while he admits that he murdered her husband, he says it was because it was all for her.

The king's widow, Queen Elizabeth, is Lady Anne's only remaining family member, save Richard. And she's preoccupied with the crown, even amidst the bloodshed. In Act IV, Anne has just been requested to leave London Tower and return to Richard.

IV.i, plus the line before:
            Eliz.             Go, go, poor soul. I envy not thy glory,

                        but for my humour, wish thyself no harm. 

            Anne.            No! Why? When he that is my husband now

                        came to me as I follow’d Henry’s corse,

                        when scarce the blood was well washed from his hands

                        which issued from my other angel husband,

                        and that dear saint which then I weeping follow’d,

                        O, when, I say, I look’d on Richard’s face,

                        this was my wish: “Be thou,” quoth I, “accurs’d

                        for making me, so young, so old a widow!

                        And when thou wed’st, let sorrow haunt thy bed;

                        And be thy wife—if any be so mad—

                        more miserable by the life of thee

                        than thou has made me by my lord’s death!”

                        Lo, ere I can repeat this curse again,

                        within so small a time, my woman’s heart

                        grossly grew captive to his honey words

                        and prov’d the subject of my own soul’s curse,

                        which hitherto hath held my eyes from rest;

                        for never one hour in his bed

                        did I enjoy the golden dew of sleep

                        but from his timorous dreams was still awak’d.

                        Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick,

                        and will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me.

Brief translation: 
Eliz.        Go on. Have fun, and don't get hurt.
Anne.     Bitch please. I cursed myself into this, and I couldn't sleep because I knew he'd kill me. Oh, and if he hates me for my father, he'll kill me off soon. Subtext: you're next. Have a nice life.