Richard III
Oct. 22nd, 2004 12:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
magidLast night I went to the first production of the newly-formed Actors' Shakespeare Project, Richard III, which is being performed in the Old South Meeting House. (The season's plays (Richard III, Measure for Measure, Julius Caesar) were chosen to fit the theme "political animals", which feels timely, as the election nears.)
I hadn't been inside the meeting house before. It's a lovely space, very open, with lots of paned arching windows. There are two balconies, though they weren't included in the seating for the play. On the main floor, there were rows of pews in the center, with rectangular pews on the sides (family pews?), all with waist-high doors. The walls between the pews were high, so only people's heads were visible when they sat. The focus of the room* is a high podium/lectern, reached by a hidden flight of stairs. The main stage was set up in front of this, with the higher space used at appropriate moments. What I still haven't figured out is the octagon hanging over the podium. It's a large, white octagon, hanging from the ceiling, rather like a chandelier might, but it's not a light fixture at all. Theories?
* I realized only later that what seemed odd was to walk into a building and have all the seating facing not the other end, but one (long) side of the building. Facing north, even.
The play shows Richard as a conniving liar and murderer, with eyes only for the throne, no matter what it takes to get there. He uses people, then casts them aside. A veritable ogre in his bloodymindedness, as he plays games of politics and brute force. And in the end, what he has taken, he cannot hold. It's a fascinating play. The lords play deadly politics, while the women one-up each other in losses.
The production was set as a modern play, people dressed as power-brokers, corporate leaders, and society wives. Interestingly, some of the important lords were played by women. That seemed to be the biggest change made to the play, and it worked well, mirroring (some of) modern society. All the women who were powerful in and of themselves wore (expensive) suits, while women who were wives/daughters wore outfits with skirts.
The set was a stage constructed in the open center space, covered in rugs. There were some stairs leading up to the stage, five chairs that were moved in and out of use as needed, and a couple of army cots. That was mostly it. And there weren't the usual entrances to the stage, either, covered until the actor is actually on stage. Instead, people had to walk up the aisles between the pews. Luckily, this was used to advantage, making the area to act in larger (if focused in front). Because the action was so close, the audience became part of the play in a couple of scenes, as the crowds in London, and the army of York, and of Lancaster.
John Kuntz turned himself into an amazing Richard. He was scarily believable, though in thinking about the play, I think the character is practically unbelievable. Actually, many of them are. Would you agree to marry the man who murdered your husband and son, while you were bringing them to their graves? I thought not. And yet, Richard does convince Anne.
And the rest of the actors were equally wonderful. I was continually impressed with their performances, particularly Queen Elizabeth, Buckingham (whose treachery would go only so far), and Queen Margaret (thank goodness they weren't her everyday eyebrows). And it was funny to hear the Boston-accented Shakespearian English used by the two murderers (of George, Duke of Clarence).
We had seats in the third pew. There's plenty of legroom, and since it's pews, there was plenty of elbow room, too. On the down side, a hard pew for many hours can be uncomfortable; there was cushion rental available. Since the walls between the pews were so high, any time something happened on the floor of the stage, it was impossible to see. For instance, when Anne first appears accompanying her (first) husband's body, the stretcher is put on the stage, and completely out of sight. Limitation of the space, I suppose, but it was noticeable, perhaps because everything else was so good. The only other quibble: I'd've started the show at 7:30, not 8, since it didn't finish until after 11. (Oddly, some nights are 7:30, while others are 8. Must pay more attention next time.)
Final verdict: six thumbs up.
I kept on thinking about another Richard, the Richard III of The Daughter of Time (Josephine Tey), who is another man entirely. Probably closer to the truth (who can believe the spin-doctors' views of the loser, which is essentially what happens with Richard), though. And he makes more sense as a person, too. The play has its own lessons, though, more about our world than his.
I hadn't been inside the meeting house before. It's a lovely space, very open, with lots of paned arching windows. There are two balconies, though they weren't included in the seating for the play. On the main floor, there were rows of pews in the center, with rectangular pews on the sides (family pews?), all with waist-high doors. The walls between the pews were high, so only people's heads were visible when they sat. The focus of the room* is a high podium/lectern, reached by a hidden flight of stairs. The main stage was set up in front of this, with the higher space used at appropriate moments. What I still haven't figured out is the octagon hanging over the podium. It's a large, white octagon, hanging from the ceiling, rather like a chandelier might, but it's not a light fixture at all. Theories?
* I realized only later that what seemed odd was to walk into a building and have all the seating facing not the other end, but one (long) side of the building. Facing north, even.
The play shows Richard as a conniving liar and murderer, with eyes only for the throne, no matter what it takes to get there. He uses people, then casts them aside. A veritable ogre in his bloodymindedness, as he plays games of politics and brute force. And in the end, what he has taken, he cannot hold. It's a fascinating play. The lords play deadly politics, while the women one-up each other in losses.
The production was set as a modern play, people dressed as power-brokers, corporate leaders, and society wives. Interestingly, some of the important lords were played by women. That seemed to be the biggest change made to the play, and it worked well, mirroring (some of) modern society. All the women who were powerful in and of themselves wore (expensive) suits, while women who were wives/daughters wore outfits with skirts.
The set was a stage constructed in the open center space, covered in rugs. There were some stairs leading up to the stage, five chairs that were moved in and out of use as needed, and a couple of army cots. That was mostly it. And there weren't the usual entrances to the stage, either, covered until the actor is actually on stage. Instead, people had to walk up the aisles between the pews. Luckily, this was used to advantage, making the area to act in larger (if focused in front). Because the action was so close, the audience became part of the play in a couple of scenes, as the crowds in London, and the army of York, and of Lancaster.
John Kuntz turned himself into an amazing Richard. He was scarily believable, though in thinking about the play, I think the character is practically unbelievable. Actually, many of them are. Would you agree to marry the man who murdered your husband and son, while you were bringing them to their graves? I thought not. And yet, Richard does convince Anne.
And the rest of the actors were equally wonderful. I was continually impressed with their performances, particularly Queen Elizabeth, Buckingham (whose treachery would go only so far), and Queen Margaret (thank goodness they weren't her everyday eyebrows). And it was funny to hear the Boston-accented Shakespearian English used by the two murderers (of George, Duke of Clarence).
We had seats in the third pew. There's plenty of legroom, and since it's pews, there was plenty of elbow room, too. On the down side, a hard pew for many hours can be uncomfortable; there was cushion rental available. Since the walls between the pews were so high, any time something happened on the floor of the stage, it was impossible to see. For instance, when Anne first appears accompanying her (first) husband's body, the stretcher is put on the stage, and completely out of sight. Limitation of the space, I suppose, but it was noticeable, perhaps because everything else was so good. The only other quibble: I'd've started the show at 7:30, not 8, since it didn't finish until after 11. (Oddly, some nights are 7:30, while others are 8. Must pay more attention next time.)
Final verdict: six thumbs up.
I kept on thinking about another Richard, the Richard III of The Daughter of Time (Josephine Tey), who is another man entirely. Probably closer to the truth (who can believe the spin-doctors' views of the loser, which is essentially what happens with Richard), though. And he makes more sense as a person, too. The play has its own lessons, though, more about our world than his.
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Date: 2004-10-22 09:55 am (UTC)Side note: The Cat, the Rat, and the Hog, indeed. Though the play didn't make clear why Richard was associated with a boar.