ACTING SHAKESPEARE

Approaching Shakespeare, to my mind, is like approaching sacred text: one must be humble, yet unafraid. Humility comes from recognizing that Shakespeare is majestic and sublime, both in form of his poetry and prose and in the dramatic content of his stories. This totality of artistry is unmatched anywhere in world drama. I say this not because these beliefs are conventional wisdom (which is always conventional, but rarely wise, nor because it earns one “culture points,” rather I say it for the best reason that one can make any statement: it is true.

Humble, yet unafraid. Humility and aggression. These are the attributes that the Shakespearean actor/actress must have. He or she must approach the text with reverence for its power and majesty, but with a willingness to be bold in interpretation and performance. The Shakesperean actor is like a piece of glass crafted to reflect the light and power of the sun in its own particular way. It is the sun’s light which illumes it, but it is the glass which gives the reflection of that light it’s own distinctive play.

No matter how much we may try to come up with gimmicks and twists in modern drama, the basic meat on the bones of what makes us fascinated or interested in a story revolves around basic drives and hunger-- lust, power, love, revenge. Perhaps that does not always sit well in a p.c. age, but conflict is the soul of drama. Shakespeare was a master at plotting, structure and storytelling. This is what gives his plays such relevance centuries after they were written. Yet he his also a master at characterization and use of language. As actors and writers, we do well to remember this. It is not simply the internal life of the character that is important, but how that character uses language and how we use that language as actors. Language. Rhythm. Meter. Poetry. Sacred texts derive their relevancy from their truths, but they derive their potency from their poetry. This is why there is almost a sacred power to Shakespeare's work and why we must approach it humbly.

The arc of Henry V’s life in Shakespeare’s dramas is a perfect example. We see Henry in Henry IV, Parts 1 and 2 , and in Henry V the full spectrum of a man's growth from boyhood to manly power. This growth is conveyed to us not only in story, but in language as well. The young Henry, or Hal, in the Henry IV plays is a profligate, a partier, who likes to spend his time drinking in taverns with his friend Falstaff. In the young Hal’s carousing with Falstaff, we are drawn into the excitement of youthful wildness and playfulness. When Hal ascends to the throne as Henry V, he becomes a different man. He disowns Falstaff and focuses on the expansion of power through the conquest of the French. We see a mature and serious Henry V leading his men in battle. Just listening to the language of Henry’s speeches in Henry V gives one the sense of a man who has embraced his destiny as a king and understands the importance of being a leader of men:

Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'

It closes with:

And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

The language serves the content of this call to arms. It is simple, direct. It is plainspoken language for a plainspoken King and soldier.

By the end of the story cycle, we find Henry V wooing Katherine, the French princess. He has reached the ripeness of his life, an arc from wastrel to warrior to lover. Yet, keeping with the content and style that serves form, Henry woos Kate with the plain words of a soldier:

Kate, I cannot look greenly nor gasp out my
eloquence, nor I have no cunning in protestation;
only downright oaths, which I never use till urged,
nor never break for urging. If thou canst love a
fellow of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth
sun-burning, that never looks in his glass for love
of any thing he sees there, let thine eye be thy
cook. I speak to thee plain soldier: If thou canst
love me for this, take me: if not, to say to thee
that I shall die, is true; but for thy love, by the
Lord, no; yet I love thee too. And while thou
livest, dear Kate, take a fellow of plain and
uncoined constancy; for he perforce must do thee
right, because he hath not the gift to woo in other
places: for these fellows of infinite tongue, that
can rhyme themselves into ladies' favours, they do
always reason themselves out again. What! a
speaker is but a prater; a rhyme is but a ballad. A
good leg will fall; a straight back will stoop; a
black beard will turn white; a curled pate will grow
bald; a fair face will wither; a full eye will wax
hollow: but a good heart, Kate, is the sun and the
moon; or, rather, the sun, and not the moon; for it
shines bright and never changes, but keeps his
course truly.

Contrast this with the florid and passionate words of a boy, Romeo, in Romeo and Juliet, as he woos Juliet:

But, soft, what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief
That thou her maid are far more fair than she.

These are the words of a boy newly awakened to the stirrings of the heart and the flesh. They are the more florid words. Indeed, if we look at the structure of Henry V’s speech and compare it with Romeo’s, what jumps out at us is that Henry V speaks in prose to his love, while Romeo speaks in verse. One is plainspoken, almost martial; the other, poetry.

In both instances above, the language is magical, and it is Shakespeare’s ability to play with words through both imagery and/or the rhythm of meter that give it this magic. One could spend years going through speeches in Hamlet or Julius Caesar and always find something both new and wondrous in them.

Since I tend to go on at length on topics in my blog, and sense the sun is about to break forth here in Syren Sea, I’ll end this brief excursion for further discussion of it at another time. However, I will leave you with what I think is an incredible example of Shakespearean acting from a performance by the great Orson Welles, an actor who revered the works of the Great Bard (Shakespeare).

Here is his interpretation of Othello: