Introduction
Just to
get it over and done with: NEVER UNTIL NOW have I seen such a bunch of
incompetent actors assembled on one stage as in this production of “The
Merchant of Venice”! I don’t think even in the “dark days”, when I was one of
the two most faithful “followers” of my provincial theatre at Augsburg where I
must have seen lots of bad productions. (As usual, I only remember the good
ones.) But, most of the time, there was at least SOMEBODY who knew what they
were doing … Well, there always is somebody who knows what they are doing, and
maybe it’s best - and fastest! - to start with them and avoid mentioning the
others. I already mentioned Brian Protheroe for reassuring “us” that we
actually are in a Shakespeare play (- and maybe shouldn’t leave the theatre in
the interval, which, actually, we SHOULDN’T have done …). But he played Aragon
for what felt like about … three minutes. And there was Jacob Fortune-Lloyd who
played the only INTERESTING Bassanio I have seen so far – after having played
the only interesting Cassio I have seen so far, in the RSC’s production of
“Othello” I liked so much. And Ken Nwosu was good as well. He played Gratiano
and the Prince of Morocco “with the caskets”, and in that scene he went one
step further and gave the most significant statement on this production, as far
as the ACTING is concerned. He shrugged off the fancy jacket already on his way
off the stage, as if to say: Done – THAT’S RIDICULOUS!
It might
have been more of a personal statement, though: Now I have done my due and played
the black guy again, but that’s it, let’s go and play SHAKESPEARE! (He has my
blessing.) The important thing about this statement is that, apparently, more
than usual, the actors were allowed, or encouraged, to make statements. The
visible expression of this state of affairs was that most of the actors sat on
benches ON THE STAGE during the performance, as if they were on the rehearsal
stage, checking on what the other actors were doing. Of course there is a large
range of possibilities as to what this might signify. For me, in this context,
it became an expression of: We did this TOGETHER, and we decided – unanimously
- that THIS IS CRAP! At least we won’t play it the way it is “always” played
because we JUST CAN’T …
I am
exaggerating, of course, but something like this became my general explanation
for so much bad acting from people who should at least know what they are
doing. As I wrote, playing Shakespeare is a universe of its own, and actors who
are otherwise good may just be in the wrong place there. And there is probably
no high-ranking Shakespeare production I have seen without at least one actor who
fucked up, but I have never seen so many actors “systematically” fucking up one
play. There were a few who were not in on it, see above, but they “kept quiet”,
I suppose, and just did as they saw fit. And, in the end, it didn’t work
anyway, I suppose to the gratification of the whole cast, but of that later …
As,
miraculously, it didn’t work I could consider it as an interesting statement to
concede that “Shakespeare” CAN be ridiculous – a lot of “Shakespeare” actually
IS ridiculous, by the way, especially if we are looking at it out of context –
or crap, or inacceptable. The more personal we take it, the more we dare to supply
OUR OWN context, the more ridiculous or inacceptable it will probably become.
Why should we always muster so much tolerance for what was written in “inhuman”
times where dogs killing each other or burning heretics was considered
entertainment??? … Well, having just read a lot of Philippa Gregory and being
stuck in “Wolf Hall”, I could at least sympathize with this point of view. I
suppose, though, that a “democratic” approach couldn’t be more than an
experiment, and that, in the long run, ACTING will always be more important, but,
if it was, it became an interesting experiment. The more so as, in the end,
“Shakespeare” prevailed.
“Statements”
and metaphors: There is nothing so difficult as justice …
I
suppose that it couldn’t have been because of the acting that I came out “on the
right side” of “Shakespeare” after having seen the RSC’s production, but it
explained a lot about the play that I didn’t understand seeing the perfectly
“smooth” production of the Globe BY METAPHORS displayed on the stage. It is not
something I usually like very much, but sometimes I do, as I liked the discreet
presence of skulls in the “woodwork” in “Richard III”. (Much better than the
buckets of blood I would need for “Macbeth” …) The giant golden pendulum in the
middle of the stage of the Swan Theatre was anything but discreet, but I somehow
managed to ignore it until I had a theory about why it might be there …
Talking
with my friend about the play alerted me to something important that I had
forgotten during my long voyage “on” “The Merchant of Venice”. It was important
because I had forgotten where I started, and with what baggage, but after we
had talked about it I could assess much better HOW FAR I had come. As she is
always much better at what is generally thought or known about a given
Shakespeare play she mentioned the “two parts” of the play, and I knew what she
meant without ever having read or heard it mentioned before. I have always
“read” the play in two parts myself – one of which I kind of refused to read. And I
have always been fascinated by the first part, about Shylock and Antonio and the
bond, and bored, respectively repelled – as I remember now! – by the second
part about Portia and the caskets. And I never questioned that there were in
fact two parts, or stories, that were blended together in one play without
really fitting, or really having anything to do with each other. And when we
were talking about it I first realized that, with the help of the RSC, I
overcame this concept and, I think, came to a deeper understanding of the play.
One
thing that helped me on the way, and which, I think, came out of the RSC’s
production, was the realization that the content of the play was contemporary
at the time. There are very few plays, I think, in “Shakespeare” that were
“modern” (in a 20th century sense). Though, probably, that’s just my
own perception because I could never keep track of the comedies. And, in my
complete edition, “The Merchant of Venice” is listed with the comedies. Not
without reason if we look at the “second part”: matters of love were considered
“comedy stuff” at the time. Thinking about “The Shrew” (or, by the way, about
what happens right now in my own family) I can say I REALLY DON’T understand
why … And “The Merchant of Venice” offers a very deep – and kind of grim and
sad – insight into what love can be like if we are looking at the relationship
of Antonio and Bassanio. I think that this contemporaneity – about what people
did with love relationships, or religious minorities and so on – is what lends
this “sharpness” and depth of focus to the comedies that I don’t encounter in
the tragedies, or ancient rape and splatter stuff like “Titus Andronicus”. I
don’t know if this is cynical, but sometimes killing and dying seams less agony
… (As I wrote, I gave credit to Jamie Ballard as Antonio for ONE thing: coming
onto the stage IN TEARS for what he will never get, not even knowing it himself
…)
What
happens in the comedies is almost always less “literary” and more contemporary
than what happens in the tragedies and histories, and as such I know that it
will become interesting when I will have overcome the difficulties of figuring
it out. For that, I knew, I had to get closer to the people I disliked,
basically Antonio, Portia, and Bassanio, and was looking for “input” on that
matter, with little success. Antonio is the most interesting, as the
“interface” between the two parts of the play and in his own right. I’ll never
know if I dislike Antonio because Jeremy Irons played him in the film (whom I
stubbornly dislike as an actor, and in this case I stand to it because I ALWAYS
see an actor when he is playing, besides the character he is playing.) It might
have been the other way round, though, because I first became aware of him
playing Antonio and might have begun to dislike him because of this. Anyway, no
matter whom I will see playing Antonio and how they will play him, I will
always dislike him because he uses his love - and money! - to “blackmail” the
person he loves. Which doesn’t mean that he is not one of the most interesting (and
“modern”!) characters Shakespeare has ever written. Doing justice to the fact
that he – not Shylock! – is the title character of the play definitely became
useful.
Thinking
about the predicaments in which these characters stand – which I refused to
take seriously before – certainly pointed me in the right direction, but I
think I took repeated shortcuts, using the “metaphors” the RSC displayed in
their production. I remember precisely the moment when I “became aware” of the
pendulum, standing on the platform waiting for my train and thinking what I
would do with “The Merchant of Venice”. And I became aware that I would want
giant scales on the stage – to visualize the “equation”. This is not even
something I like, though, and I thought it wouldn’t do anyway because it would
be misunderstood, grossly pointing at Shylock’s pound of flesh. But there was
this giant pendulum … Maybe THAT had something to do with it?
I think
that was when I became fully aware of WHY I was doing equations. To keep track
of the complex interpersonal situation, and how it evolves. And how all these
relationships are coming into it, not just those that concern Shylock. I had
already closed the rift between the two parts, including Portia and the caskets
– and potentially every “ancillary” character or relationship, as, for example,
the one between Jessica and Lorenzo, or Antonio and his other friends.
Basically, WHY is he lonely, in the middle of so much company … ???
Music as
metaphor: A universe of divine discord
Metaphors
big time in exchange for the acting: that was the RSC’s “Merchant of Venice”.
But I understand that it appeared more important to them to have a fresh
perspective on the play. And one thing they did I really, really, REALLY loved,
which was the MUSIC. I don’t remember, though, if I even noticed it before I
had figured out why. They put a few singers on top of the big wall at the back
of the stage who made really beautiful polyphonic music – which was
contemporary but reminded me of early polyphonic music as, I take it, we would
have heard in Shakespeare’s time. And I think this was ingenious because, when
I noticed the metaphor, I became aware that they had understood the play the
way I had come to understand it in the course of my “voyage”.
I looked
it up, to be sure, but I was basically right about this. The 16th
century was the time when polyphonic music reached its (first) peak. So it was
“state of the art” but still kind of “new”, and scandalous because the church
still wanted to suppress it. They wanted the spoken word at the centre, and to
be discernible, whereas polyphony gives precedence to the music, and the words
come second. In the light of reading in “Wolf Hall” what had just happened in
the church, in England and elsewhere, this became especially interesting. The
efforts to suppress the MANY INDIVIDUAL VOICES that had just sprung up in so many
places had led to serious political repercussions (basically: lots of burnings
and beheadings, and worse …) which were still fresh in people’s memories.
I often
have this feeling of contemporaneity when I am reading Shakespeare, and I am
always trying to “find” it. That’s probably why I cherish the few episodes of
“Shakespeare Retold” so much which the BBC regrettably doesn’t make anymore.
Usually, I have it more about the comedies, but I have it as well constantly
reading “Macbeth” (and am looking forward SO VERY MUCH to seeing the newest
version of the RSC in June …) I think I am always trying to have it with
“Shakespeare”, and I am sure many people do, in totally different places. My
friend repeatedly said that she has it about “Titus Andronicus”. I understand
what she means, but I am probably an incorrigible optimist and STILL don’t see
our world QUITE like that. Though I never tire until I have “made up” the
cruelest version of a comedy I can think of.
In this
case it was about something that was still rather new AT THE TIME: people
making THEIR OWN lives and speaking with THEIR OWN voices, but we still “have”
it and, quite often, it still leads to repercussions that are not entirely
desirable. But we are used to it, I think, and even like it, like to watch it
and find the polyphony of life beautiful, which explains a lot about
“Shakespeare”, or “House of Cards” and the like … Sometimes it JUST HURTS. What
I loved most in the entire production was when, at one point, the singers
didn’t end their interlude in harmony but in a big, kind of DIVINE DISCORD –
which sounded as if each voice closed on a different note. It was the biggest,
most beautiful metaphor I can imagine for my ongoing experience that IT DIDN’T
ADD UP. When there are so many people with so many different voices and so many
different predicaments IT NEVER WILL.
Conclusion:
Unlocked the casket!
So, it
didn’t add up, in the end, but, in the case of the RSC, it came right. I don’t
know anything about this, of course, but the production might have suffered
from a lack of directing, at least in the first part. Actors who don’t know
what to do won’t emerge as great actors, even if the potential is there. But
the fact that they, maybe, had more of a DISCUSSION about the play instead of a
proper rehearsal, might have turned out good in the end. That is, when things were running towards their climax in the big court scene where Shylock demands
his bond and gets systematically dismantled. This scene is so scandalous in so
many ways that, every time I see it, I can’t believe it. I CAN’T BELIEVE that
anyone might have had the genius to write it … And when there is REAL
discussion, real disbelief, and no ready acceptance, this scene turns out even
more dynamic. I think that these dynamics, in writing, just developed from the
story being set up as cleverly as it is, to create maximum effect. And if it is
PLAYED like this as well it will infallibly make us feel bad and clueless –
though, like in a real trial, we have the solace that justice was served and
the villain got duly punished.
Well,
this scene was still so much better – or worse! - than in any other production
I have seen. There really WAS NO NEED, after that, to show Shylock being
cruelly baptized, as the Globe did. (And it made me think about if my own
vision how Shakespeare should be played isn’t right, after all … Well, it will
never be proved, or disproved. And it would be rather a dangerous method …)
So, I
must give great credit to this production, in the end, not least for taking risks.
Metaphors, Music, dynamics, and the way they tried to make the discord bigger
and point at the ambiguities - the things that don’t add up! - in people’s
relationships, furthered my reading in the direction it was already going. For
example, they showed the relationship between Jessica and Lorenzo as failing. I
don’t know if I would go that far because it came out kind of gross, but it
first made me aware of how much text Shakespeare has given to them that is quite
ambiguous. It certainly could turn out either way …
And this
was also, I think, why I took a closer look at the caskets. This part of the
story had appeared stupid to me until the end, and I kind of ignored it, but
after having “completed” my reading in the way I described I found an
explanation even for them. The risk of FAILING is even bigger when we manage to
take the relationship between Portia and Bassanio seriously. Not consider it as
the kind of fairy-tale and comedy stuff it is to begin with. I think
Shakespeare contrived to make it quite serious, as he usually does with
“comedy stuff”, by showing their relationship to be endangered by
Bassanio’s “unfaithfulness” – which is, in fact, faithfulness to Antonio! The
heartbreak of having the world where he had this EXCLUSIVE relationship with
Bassanio come to an end is Antonio’s tragedy – which, understandably, he UNCONSCIOUSLY
tries to prevent by all means. But it is Bassanio’s and Portia’s relationship
that is endangered by him “collecting his debt”.
In this
case, “we” know that they will be alright – even though Antonio will still be “there”.
(In EVERY production Antonio is left alone on the stage in the last scene. On
second thought, I very much doubt that … But, from that day, he will only be a
guest in Bassanio’s life.) And the reason that they will be alright is that
they made the RIGHT choice. IT HAPPENS – though, I fear, not often. And I think
that the point of the caskets is about how difficult, respectively IMPOSSIBLE,
it is to make the right choice. I remember thinking that, even though they are
ridiculed by the relieved girls, Morocco and Aragon are not actually STUPID.
Their choice of caskets is not stupid but they chose rationally, according to
WHO THEY ARE. They are not bad men or bad people, or insufficient, they are
just who they are and, as such: NOT THE RIGHT PERSON. And because being set up
for life often goes catastrophically wrong the choice of the right person is
THE IMPOSSIBLE CHOICE. “We” choose, in the end, because love induces us to it.
But what is love? Seriously, I think, only very few people ever come to know
that. The closed casket is a great symbol for that choice. We choose without
knowing WHAT we choose, and it will, IN ANY CASE, turn out different. Actually,
Portia’s father was more clever, and “fatherly”, than she gives him credit for.
He obviously knew what he was doing and set the whole thing up so as for her to
be chosen FOR THE RIGHT REASON. There is no guarantee in that, by the way, but
it might reduce the odds …
Right
now, I appreciate “The Merchant of Venice” very much for providing me with such
a complete experience of “Shakespeare”. As if there was no substantial part of
the play left that is not covered by it. But, about this, I must certainly be
wrong???
Keine Kommentare:
Kommentar veröffentlichen