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.
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