A Man of the People

I've written before about the actor Edmund Kean's working-class associations, including his membership in the notorious Wolves Club.

William Hazlitt, a theatre critic who admired Kean, frequently linked him with the common man. "Mr. Kean's acting is not of the patrician order," he wrote in the London Magazine in 1820, "he is one of the people, and what might be termed a radical performer."

Seeing Kean as the title character in William Shakespeare's Coriolanus, Hazlitt deemed him a failure. Since "the prevailing characteristics of the part are inordinate self-opinion, and haughty elevation of soul," Kean simply lacked the aristocratic grace to play the role, Hazlitt thought. Instead, Kean "descended into the common arena of man," which might have been good for other characters, but not Coriolanus.

Similarly, Hazlitt was disappointed at seeing Kean in the regal title role of Shakespeare's King Lear. Of course, Kean wasn't exactly acting Shakespeare's Lear, as he was performing Nahum Tate's adaptation of the play with a happy ending. Still, Hazlitt found Kean's performance "altogether inferior to his Othello."

The parts of Kean's Lear that Hazlitt found most affecting were the ones where he was least royal and most human. He singled out this speech Lear has when reunited with Cordelia:

Pray, do not mock me;

I am a very foolish, fond old man,

Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less;

And, to deal plainly,

I fear I am not in my perfect mind.

Methinks, I should know you, and know this man;

Yet I am doubtful; for I'm mainly ignorant

What place this is; and all the skill I have

Remembers not these garments; nay, I know not

Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me,

For, as I am a man, I think this lady

To be my child Cordelia.

Hazlitt wrote that on speaking the last words, the great actor "staggered faintly into Cordelia's arms, and his sobs of tenderness, and his ecstasy of joy commingled, drew streaming tears from the brightest eyes."

That was the Kean that Hazlitt wanted to see, and it appears to have been the Kean most of his other fans wanted as well.

The 47th

When I was in London in 2022, I just missed being able to see The 47th, a new verse drama by Mike Bartlett that imagined a Presidential contest two years later between Kamala Harris and Donald Trump.

Interestingly enough, I was back in the UK when President Biden announced he was dropping out of the race, meaning that in some respects, Bartlett's play was prophetic. Of course, just like Bartlett's previous drama King Charles III, many of the details proved inaccurate, even if other aspects were bourn out by events.

With the real Harris-Trump race heating up, I decided to pick up a copy of The 47th from The Drama Book Shop. The play opens with Trump speaking a denigrated iambic pentameter, since the conceit here is--like with King Charles III--the imagined future is told in the form of a Shakespearean chronicle play. Lear-like, Trump tests his three adult children to see who loves him the most. (As in real life, Trump never mentions Tiffany in the play.) After Don Jr. and Eric gush about how much they love their father, Ivanka says nothing. This might appear to be a nod to Cordelia in King Lear, but then Ivanka delivers a startling speech:

          If as my father you know not my love

          Then words will not identify your daughter.

          Your rightful heir will never beg, but trade.

          You know my talent, and my promise, too.

          I'm grateful for all that you have bestowed

          And vow that I'll repay that loan not just

          In full but with my share of interest.

One thing the play got wrong was envisioning a world in which the 2024 Republican nomination didn't belong to Trump from the beginning. Instead, Bartlett shows Ted Cruz as the front runner and presumed nominee. Trump offers to endorse him, but once in front of a crowd, he starts turning people against Cruz, referring to him as "an honourable man" just as Marc Antony does of Brutus is Julius Caesar. Trump ends up with the nomination, and though Act II does feature a Republican Senator from Ohio, it is not J.D. Vance but Ivanka who becomes Trump's running mate in the play.

The play also features a funeral for President Carter, who is thankfully still with us and hopes to cast his ballot this November. At the funeral, Trump whispers into Biden's ear, "I know about Jill." This small hint worms its way into Biden's brain, leading him to sleepwalk through the White House like Lady Macbeth. One advisor even worries aloud that the President will not be able to debate his opponent in such a condition. The play has Biden not just drop out of the race, though, but resign his office entirely, making Harris the 47th President, and thus the title character.

After the Trump in the play lets loose chaos on the streets, he is momentarily placed in jail. Bartlett begins a scene in Act IV quoting directly lines from Richard II. Trump immediately renounces the Shakespeare, however, saying that sitting upon the ground and telling sad stories of the death of kings is for "losers" not people like him. The fifth act returns to King Lear, with a reporter appearing having lost his eyes like the Earl of Gloucester. Ultimately, order is restored, but the audience is left wondering if what comes next might actually be worse.

The 47th didn't get everything right, but in its broad outline, it is uncomfortably close to the election currently going on in the United States.

Iguana Night

"I don't judge people, I draw them," says Hannah Jelkes in Tennessee Williams's play The Night of the Iguana. The dramatist might well have been speaking about himself. Williams rarely judged his characters, but he did exquisitely draw them for his audience.

That's what we see on stage in the Off-Broadway revival of the play at the Pershing Square Signature Center. Directed by Emily Mann, the production brings together top-quality actors who embrace the characters they play in all their problematic excess.

I saw the show last night, when the cast was led by Christopher Innvar as the Reverend T. Lawrence Shannon, a former Episcopal priest now leading tourists through some of the seedier locales in Mexico. Innvar would seem to be perfect casting for the role. He played Albany opposite John Lithgow in King Lear, and has performed the title character in Joanna Baillie's De Monfort, as well as more recently being Kurt, the odd man out in Dance of Death by August Strindberg. Is it any wonder Mann cast such a magnificent performer in the lead of this anticipated revival?

Oh, wait. Innvar was the understudy! No matter. He nailed the character, and was particularly good in Shannon's scenes together with Judith Fellowes, the annoying matronly woman on the tour who has it out for Shannon, and with very good reason. Fellowes is unbearable, even though we know she's essentially in the right, and is played with priceless humor by Dee Pelletier, best known for her Broadway turns in the Tracy Letts dark comedies The Minutes and August: Osage County.

Hold on, Pelletier was an understudy, too! Her performance was still wonderful, though, and she and Innvar held their own with the show's headliner who did make last night's performance, Daphne Rubin-Vega. Best known as the original Mimi in Rent, Rubin-Vega, can still display her posterior in tight pants without any complaints from the audience. That's good, since she plays Maxine Faulk, the recently widowed proprietor of the hotel where the tour group is staying. Maxine rolls out her sexual charm to welcome Shannon, and the biggest wonder of the play is how he can resist her.

The answer would appear to be Hannah, the Nantucket spinster played by Jean Lichty, who seems to understand the kind of spiritual turmoil Shannon is going through in a way that Faulk cannot. Hannah is traveling with her grandfather (played by the legendary Austin Pendleton), barely scraping by through a combination of selling her artwork and showing off her grandfather as "the oldest living and practicing poet on earth."

This motley assortment of oddballs is displayed with humanity, reminding us of the importance to not judge others for their weaknesses. That's a lesson that should be learned by the German couple staying at the hotel, who represent the dark cloud of fascism that was rolling in during the summer of 1940, when the play is set.

This splendid revival is only playing until February 25, so see it while you still can.

Alpine Fellowship Finalist

Earlier this month, I announced that my play Apprenticeship was a finalist for Amphibian Stage's SparkFest 2023. Today, I'm pleased to say a proposed play of mine has been shortlisted for the Alpine Fellowship Theatre Prize 2023.

This year, there were more than 220 entries, which the Alpine Fellowship has narrowed down to 20. Each entry consisted of a 500-word synopsis of a proposed play (to be no more than 45 minutes). Applicants also had to provide a 250-word summary of their previous theatre experience and a sample of previous work.

Jacob Burda and Alan Lawson founded the Alpine Fellowship ten years ago. Each year the organization holds a symposium bringing together artists, philosophers, writers and academics to share expertise and knowledge with people from a diverse array of normally disconnected fields and to support new talent in a variety of art forms.

The 2023 symposium will be held in Fjallnas, Sweden. The theme for this year's symposium is Flourishing. I proposed a short play called The Lear Girls Go Clubbing about three sisters named Goneril, Regan, and Cordelia as they get ready to go out to their favorite dance club in Londinium.

Readers of this blog will know I have an enduring interest in the play King Lear, so it would be great to travel to Fjallnas for a staged reading of the work, which is what the winning piece receives, along with a cash prize.

The other shortlisted writers are Jeanette Cronin, Fintan Dineen, Roxanna Francombe, Lee Lauren, Amy Lever, Kirsty McEachran, Irina Muneanu, Ben Peel, Georgina Periam, Flo Petrie, Erin Quinlan, Kate Roche, Thomas Ryalls, Eleanor Shaw, Hugo Timbrell, Rachel Tookey, Esohe Uwadiae, Isabella Waldron, and Guy Woods.

Best Plays of 2022

As the end of the year approaches, I am once again making my list of the best productions I saw in New York City that opened this year.

If I were being just, I would include My Fellow Americans due to the amazing performance of Rebecca Ana Peña, but as the play's author, I'm probably a bit too close to it, so I'm disqualifying it.

Also disqualified is the virtual production of Kew Gardens as well as the live and virtual versions of A Christmas Carol at Passage Theatre Company. They weren't in New York City, anyway, nor were the productions of King Lear and Only Fools and Horses I saw in London.

Last year was rather lackluster in New York, though a couple good shows rose to the top of my list, including The Alchemist and The Streets of New York. It seems 2022 wasn't quite the year that theatre in this city got back into full swing, but at least there were a lot more good shows opening than there were in 2021.

So without further ado, here is my top-ten list in reverse order:

10. Cymbeline - New York Classical Theatre's outdoor production of Cymbeline was a blast, in large part due to Aziza Gharib, who played the show's heroine, Imogine.

9. Richard II - Another enjoyable outdoor production of Shakespeare was Hudson Classical Theater Company's Richard II at the Soldiers' and Sailors' Monument in Riverside Park. Nathan Mattingly played the title role.

8. Made By God - Ciara Ni Chuirc's new play that opened at Irish Rep at the beginning of this year has stayed with me. This meditation on the changing law regarding abortion in Ireland doesn't run away from tough issues of faith and society's shared responsibility for all of its members.

7. As You Like It - Generally, this is one of my least favorite Shakespeare plays, but Shaina Taub and Laurie Woolery's musical adaptation was a delight this summer in Central Park. The songs perfectly captured the goofy, conflicted nature of the play's characters. I'd like to see regional theatres pick this one up for the future.

6. Ohio State Murders - Adrienne Kennedy finally made her Broadway debut this year, with help from the star power of Audra McDonald. Playing Suzanne Alexander, a fictionalized version of the playwright herself, McDonald takes us on a harrowing journey where small things take on terrifying aspects by pointing toward much darker ends. (Still playing!)

5. Candida - Gingold Theatrical Group's magnificent production of one of Bernard Shaw's most delightful comedies did not disappoint. Avanthika Srinivasan starred in the title role, while R.J. Foster and Avery Whitted played the two very different men who are in love with her. The production also featured the best set I saw in New York all year, wonderfully crafted by Lindsay Genevieve Fuori.

4. A Touch of the Poet - Irish Rep scored another hit with their revival of Eugene O'Neill's powerful exploration of one moment in American history. Robert Cuccioli was brilliant as Con Melody, but the real discovery was Belle Aykroyd, who played Con's daughter Sara. I'll have a full analysis of the production coming out next year in The Eugene O'Neill Review. The author never saw the play performed in his lifetime, but I think he would have appreciated this staging of it.

3. Downstate - In the past, I've not been a fan of the work of Bruce Norris, but Downstate, still playing through January 7th at Playwrights Horizons, deserves to be seen. The cast, including Glenn Davis, K. Todd Freeman, and Francis Guinan as convicted sex offenders living together in a group home in downstate Illinois while overseen by a parole officer (portrayed brilliantly by Susanna Guzman), is absolutely excellent. Even more important, though, is the way Norris interrogates a culture of victimhood and portrays what it might look like for people to truly take responsibility for their actions.

2. Leopoldstadt - Tom Stoppard's latest play is more conventional than most of his work, but it packs an emotional wallop, especially in these times of rising ethnic nationalism. I spoke about the production on CUNY TV, sharing my long-time love of Stoppard's plays. Though the storytelling is mostly straightforward, its enormous cast of characters would be impossible to follow were it not for the deft direction of Patrick Marber, who makes sure we understand the steady march of time through the most terrifying decades of the 20th century. Tickets are currently on sale until the beginning of July, so if you haven't seen it yet, go.

1. Paradise Square - My top choice will no doubt be controversial, but in spite of its many problems, Larry Kirwan's reimagining of Five Points during the infamous Civil War draft riots captured what contemporary theatre can be if it has the courage to try. Choreographer Bill T. Jones did an exceptional job, and Joaquina Kalukango brought down the house singing the brilliant number "Let It Burn." The music, which is inspired by the work of Stephen Foster, deserves the cast recording we've been promised, but alas, the financial mismanagement of producers could mean this show never again sees the light of day. That would be a shame, as it deserves a much larger audience than it received during its abbreviated run on Broadway.

Here's to an even better year in 2023!

Theatres in London

I am currently in London for two things, a research appointment with the National Portrait Gallery which I had on Monday, and a Dickens conference that starts tomorrow with an event at the Charles Dickens Museum.

Since I am here, though, I knew I had to also take in some theatre. As I wrote in my last blog post, I spent Sunday night at Shakespeare's Globe, where I saw Kathryn Hunter perform the title role in King Lear. The Globe is a unique place to see a play, since it is probably closer to Shakespeare's original Globe than any other theatre.

That wasn't why I was there, of course. I've always enjoyed seeing Hunter on stage, back to when I first saw her in Kafka's Monkey. Still, there is something to be said for getting to experience a play in a particular building. One thing I've learned is that doing what many of Shakespeare's original audience members did, renting a cushion for the duration of a performance, is a good idea.

I had never paid extra for a cushion before, but if I ever go back, I think I will again. I will probably also try to get a seat against the back wall as I did this time, so I can have something to lean against during the play. Notice that until you are in a physical theatre space, a lot of issues just seem academic. Who cares if audience members paid to rent cushions? Well, after you've felt the difference of watching a show on a wooden bench with or without a cushion, this little tidbit about the past seems much more tangible.

Monday I went to the Theatre Royal Haymarket to see Only Fools and Horses. In this case, I did choose the play for the theatre building. I've watched a bit of the television series the musical is based upon, but I'm not a die-hard fan. (Many other audience members clearly were.) What I really wanted was to experience seeing a show at the Haymarket. I did something similar back in 2016 when I went to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory primarily so I could get inside the Theatre Royal at Drury Lane.

As with getting tickets to Drury Lane, I made sure to get tickets in the gallery, so I could experience the show the way working class people might have going all the way back to the Regency period. When I went to Drury Lane, I tried to enter through the lobby, but I was redirected around the corner to a separate side entrance. That's right, poorer folks had to use a different entrance so wealthy patrons in the nice seats didn't have to mix with the riffraff like me! At the Haymarket today, audience members in the gallery don't have to walk around the corner, but they still have a separate entrance!

The other thing I noticed was how small the theatre was. Yes, I knew that the Haymarket was the "little" theatre generally just open in the summer, and its house wasn't as large as the two main patent theatres at Drury Lane and Covent Garden. Still, knowing that is one thing, while feeling it in the actual space is quite another. I'm glad I went, both because I got to experience the space, and because the show itself was delightful. The songs were catchy and fun, and there was a sweetness to the musical that I didn't always get from the original television series.

Tuesday night I went to see Agatha Christie's play Witness for the Prosecution, which was staged in London's old County Hall on the south bank of the Thames, right near the London Eye. The play is performed in the old Council Chamber, where the city's government used to meet. This seemed fitting, since much of the play takes place in a courtroom, and the Council Chamber was already arranged with a central chair, seats on the main level, and galleries for the public. The main chair is now occupied by the judge in the play, and to his side is a jury box where some audience members sit.

Before the play began, and again at intermission, the woman who played the court stenographer gave instructions to the audience members in the jury box. I wasn't seated in the jury box, though. Again, I was in the gallery, but this time the gallery was also a performance space! At one point, a woman appeared in the gallery near where I was seated. (She hadn't been there before, by the way.) A spotlight shined on her, and she yelled at the prosecutor. The judge ordered her removed from the gallery, and so she was. This was all a part of the play, of course. It was nice to see how the production made full use of the improvised space.

Tonight, I didn't go to a play, as there was a poetry reading linked to the upcoming anniversary of the death of Percy Shelley. Kelvin Everest read some of Shelley's later poems, and mentioned that "When the Lamp is Shattered" was originally intended to be part of a play Shelley was working on but never finished. There were also Shelley poems read by biographer Richard Holmes and poet George Szirtes, who read "Ozymandias" both in English and in Hungarian!

Anyway, the conference begins next, so I'm back to work.

Mourning Peter Brook

I am in London right now for a research appointment tomorrow and then a Dickens conference later this week. Tonight, I saw Kathryn Hunter in King Lear at Shakespeare's Globe.

A lot of people know Hunter as Puck in Julie Taylor's filmed production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. I also saw her in the title role of Timon of Athens, so I was very much looking forward to seeing her.

After the show, however, she stepped forward to address the audience. She could hardly speak. She said that many of us might not know, but that Peter Brook died last night. Several members of the audience gasped.

I wish I could remember what precisely she said, but the general thrust of it was that Peter's spirit was with us that night. For theatre artists everywhere, that is a comforting thought, as we mourn the loss of one of the most important directors of the 20th century.

Like many people, I first came to learn about Brook by reading his book The Empty Space. Brook started out directing Shakespeare, and became one of the most respected young directors at the Royal Shakespeare Company. He directed a particularly famous production of King Lear with Paul Scofield.

Brook was always about more than just directing Shakespeare, though. He had his finger on the pulse of a number of theatrical movements, and was highly influenced by Antonin Artaud. The Theatre of Cruelty envisioned by Artaud became popularized after Brook directed the first English-language production of Peter Weiss's play Marat/Sade, utilizing many of Artaud's ideas.

A truly international artist, the British Brook spent much of his career based in France, and was profoundly influenced by the culture of India. His stage adaptation of the Indian epic The Mahabharata is considered by many people to be his masterpiece.

Was Brook's spirit present at the Globe tonight as so many artists influenced by his work carried on his legacy? We can only hope so.

Cymbeline, By Jove

Last night I saw New York Classical Theatre perform Cymbeline in Central Park. Last summer, the company performed Nahum Tate's adaptation of King Lear, but now they are back to sticking (more or less) to Shakespeare's original text.

The plot of Cymbeline is intentionally complicated, blending together legendary history with one of the folk tales that appears in The Decameron. This production has the potential to add to the confusion by having a small cast double in multiple roles.

Fortunately, the doubling adds to the production rather than taking away from it. In some productions, the actor who plays Posthumous doubles as the villain Cloten. That was how the Public Theater did it in 2015 when Hamish Linklater played both roles. In this case, however, Brandon Burk plays both Posthumous, Imogine's husband, and Guiderius, her long-lost brother. The delightfully comic Evan Moore-Coll instead plays Cloten, as well as assorted other roles.

One of the highlights of the show is when Aziza Gharib, who plays Imogine, appears in Posthumous's dream as (according to the stage directions) "Jupiter descends in thunder and lightning, sitting upon an eagle." Unlike the Jacobean stage, Central Park is not equipped with machinery to lower giant eagles from the Heavens. Instead, Gharib appears with huge wind-swept pieces of fabric, while two other cast members hold them out and provide other-worldly sound effects.

The supporting cast is in fact quite good. Jenny Strassburg plays the evil queen, a delicious role, though the character disappears toward the end of the play. Perhaps to compensate for that, she also plays Belarius, who fosters the king's lost sons. (The second son is played by Christian Ryan, who doubles as the deceitful Iachimo.) Terrell Wheeler (who also appeared in The Assembly's wonderful production of That Poor Dream) plays the important supporting roles of Pisanio and Caius, while the king himself is played by Nick Salamone.

If you want to see the production, it will be in Central Park until June 26th, after which it will move to Carl Schurz Park, and then Brooklyn Commons Park at MetroTech.

Best Productions of 2021

New York City theatre isn't completely back yet, especially with omicron scares cancelling shows right and left, but at least things are better than last year, when I had to write a list of the top 10 shows I did NOT get to see.

So now I'm back to my annual tradition of coming up with a list of the top shows I saw that opened this year in New York City. Obviously, my own adaptation of A Christmas Carol doesn't count, since it was in Trenton, and neither do virtual performances, though some of them were quite fun.

Here are my picks, in reverse order:

10. The Alcestiad - Magis Theatre Company lived up to its name with this magical outdoor production on Roosevelt Island this summer. Thornton Wilder's take on a Greek myth involving death and plague came alive with the ruins of a smallpox hospital providing the backdrop. It was a joy to behold.

9. King Lear - New York Classical Theatre decided to do William Shakespeare's most depressing tragedy this year, but with the happy ending rewritten by Nahum Tate. Once again, the outdoor setting added to the experience, though it also meant that my first two attempts to see the show were cancelled due to rain. The third time was a charm, and this show was nothing if not charming.

8. The Book of Moron - Robert Dubac's one-man show was closer to a stand-up comedy routine than your typical Off-Broadway fare, but it rose beyond simple jokes to become an engaging and thought-provoking piece of theatre. This was in part due to flawless direction by comedy legend Garry Shandling and a surprisingly innovative set designed by Melissa Burkhardt Moore. I'm glad I saw it.

7. Trouble in Mind - Alice Childress at last made it (posthumously) to Broadway with Roundabout's production of her most famous play, a backstage drama about actors rehearsing a dreadful script by a conveniently absent playwright. During intermission, I overheard one audience member say, "Chuck Cooper makes everything he's in even better." How true! Cooper's performance in the play is not to be missed, so if you haven't seen it yet, get your tickets. It's still playing, but only through January 9th!

6. Merry Wives - Jocelyn Bioh's adaptation of The Merry Wives of Windsor was the Public Theater's sole offering at the Delacorte this summer, but it was worth seeing, if for no reason other than Jacob Ming-Trent, who played the larger-than-life character of Falstaff. Bioh appropriately adjusted the text to make Shakespeare's comedy of rural life in England work when reset among African immigrants in contemporary Harlem. The sight of Ming-Trent as an overgrown man-child playing video games was not only a witty sight gag--it was amazingly appropriate for the character of Sir John Falstaff.

5. Flying Over Sunset - When James Lapine has a new play, it's usually worth seeing, and when it's got music by Tom Kitt and lyrics by Michael Korie, you definitely want to be there. This imagined meeting of Aldous Huxley, Clare Boothe Luce, and Carey Grant at a rented Malibu beach house where they go on LSD trips together delivers both soaring melodies and beautiful stage pictures. It also features innovative choreography by tap master Michelle Dorrance. Harry Hadden-Paton, Carmen Cusack, and Tony Yazbeck all provide stellar performances that go beyond mere impressions of celebrities. This show is still playing at Lincoln Center, so get your tickets while you can!

4. Mrs. Warren's Profession - Gingold Theatrical Group scored again with their production of Bernard Shaw's devastating comedy about capitalism and prostitution, which turn out to be pretty much the same thing in this play. Karen Ziemba was able to shine in the title role, even when sharing the stage with other acting stalwarts like Raphael Nash Thompson and Robert Cuccioli. The more challenging roles in the play, however, go to the younger performers playing Vivie and Frank. Nicole King made her Off-Broadway debut as Vivie Warren, a "New Woman" whose enigmatic intelligence Shaw explored but thankfully never tried to solve. She was complimented by David Lee Huynh as Vivie's caddish love interest, Frank. Director David Staller made certain this production was just as charming as GTG's 2019 offering, Caesar and Cleopatra.

3. The Disciple - Thirdwing is a relative newcomer to NYC theatre. Their productions--which are sometimes live, sometimes virtual, and sometimes both--can be hit or miss. The Female Genius, a series of filmed shorts by Rachel Carey, provided the basis for this full-length play about author and philosopher Ayn Rand and her devoted much younger lover, Nathaniel Branden. Unlike some other plays about sexual exploitation by the famous and powerful, The Disciple finds nuance, in part by flipping traditional gender politics on their head, and showing a woman who is willing to be just as selfish and brutal as any man. Maja Wampuszyc is perfect as Rand, and Cameron Darwin Bossert plays Branden with both humanity and humor. Alas, the in-person show came and went without much fanfare, but fortunately, you can still see a filmed scene from it streamed through Thirdwing's website.

2. The Alchemist - The funniest new play of 2021 was Ben Jonson's old Jacobean comedy The Alchemist, made new again in a brilliant adaptation by contemporary dramatist Jeffrey Hatcher. Red Bull Theater Company, which has been remarkably active online during the pandemic, thankfully returned to the live stage with this side-splitting production directed by Jesse Berger. The cast featured Jacob Ming-Trent--who was so hilarious as Falstaff in this summer's Merry Wives--as well as Manoel Feliciano, Reg Rogers, Teresa Avia Lim, Nathan Christopher, Carson Elrod, Allen Tedder, Louis Mustillo, and Jennifer Sanchez (who literally shimmered in a costume designed by Tilly Grimes). Jonson's play is hysterical, but its cast of 12 (plus assorted extras) makes it difficult to produce for a professional company. Hatcher did a great job getting to the core of the humor while also reducing the cast size and making the play feel topical for those of us living through the plague of the 21st century.

1. The Streets of New York - Of all the New York companies that took their work to the virtual world to keep theatre alive during the pandemic, none were more prolific and innovative than Irish Repertory Theatre, which experimented boldly with the online format, and frequently with great success. I intensely looked forward to their return to the live stage, though, and was greatly pleased when they announced that they would be performing Dion Boucicault's The Streets of New York, especially after they had done such a magnificent revival of the same author's comedy London Assurance. What I was not expecting was for the show to be a musical! Director Charlotte Moore provided a number of delightful songs to transform Boucicault's classic melodrama into a holiday treat. She couldn't have done it, however, without a delightful cast that includes Ben Jacoby, David Hess, Justin Keyes, Jordan Tyson, Ryan Vona, Delaney Westfall, and (most winningly) Amanda Jane Cooper. It's still playing until January 30th, so be sure to grab tickets.

That's my list! Honorable mentions go to Blackbird, Radium Girls, and The Overcoat. Let's hope the virus recedes soon, and we can have a more robust season in 2022!

The First Duchess

When John Webster's play The Duchess of Malfi was first published in 1623, it did something extraordinary for the time: it listed the names of the actors who had played various roles.

Now 1623 was also the year two actors first published a folio edition of the work of William Shakespeare, and that edition contained a list of "The Names of the Principall Actors in all these Playes." However, that list didn't tell readers which actor had played which role.

In contrast, when the quarto edition of The Duchess of Malfi lists "The Actors Names" it actually gives the play's characters followed by which actor played each part. According to the play's title page, the piece had been performed both at the indoor Blackfriars Theatre as well as at the outdoor Globe. It also appears to have been performed in different years, since some roles list two different performers, the first one generally a bit older than the second.

Only one actor, however, is listed for the title character, and that is R. Sharpe, presumably Richard Sharpe, who was born around 1602, and so would have been only about 12 years old when the play premiered (before the end of 1614). The second set of actors appear to have taken over their roles sometime after the death of Richard Burbage in 1619. So if we hypothesize a revival around 1621, Sharpe would have been only about 19 then, still young enough to play female roles in the Jacobean theatre.

While little is known about the life of Sharpe, there is a wealth of material about his co-star in the premiere of The Duchess of Malfi, Burbage. Known for such roles as Richard III, Hamlet, Othello, and King Lear, Burbage played the character of Ferdinand, twin brother to the Duchess of Malfi. The twins' younger brother, a Cardinal, was initially played by Henry Condell, who was one of the two actors who compiled Shakespeare's First Folio. While he lived until 1627, he might have taken on more of a managerial position in the company later on, and he was replaced in his role by Richard Robinson. Joseph Taylor replaced Burbage as Ferdinand, and both Taylor and Robinson were listed as "Principall Actors" of Shakespeare, as well.

One of the most curious things about the quarto of Webster's play is that it first lists Bosola, a comparatively lower-class character who would generally be placed after the upper-class folks. However, Bosola is a central figure in the play, and he was apparently quite competently played by John Lowin (listed in the First Folio as "John Lowine"). Known for playing the title characters in Shakespeare's Henry VIII and Ben Jonson's Volpone, Lowin might have distinguished himself so well in the part of Bosola as to earn top billing for himself.

Antonio, who marries the Duchess in the first act, was initially played by William Ostler, who died in December of 1614. (That's how we know the play must have premiered before then.) He was replaced by Robert Benfield.

It is the Duchess herself, however, who fascinates audiences the most in the play. It would have been interesting to have seen a young boy like Sharpe originating the role!

Tate in the Park

After two rained-out attempts, I finally got a chance to see New York Classical Theatre perform King Lear, as written by William Shakespeare and refinished by Nahum Tate.

In 1681, Tate "fixed" Shakespeare's most devastating tragedy by introducing a love story between Cordelia and Edgar, and by having the good characters all get to live in a bizarre happy ending.

For the most part, New York Classical has stuck with text Shakespeare wrote rather than following Tate's changes. Tate completely cut the fool, for instance, and this version not only retains that part, but like the recent Broadway production with Glenda Jackson, also double casts the role with that of Cordelia, even going so far as to explicitly have the fool be Cordelia in disguise.

But the production does keep Edgar's romance with Cordelia, and (most spectacularly) Tate's happy ending. Perhaps "happy" is too strong a word, since even when he's saved, Lear is painfully apprehensive. At one point in Tate's script, he says to Albany: "Com’st thou, inhuman Lord, to sooth us back / To a Fool’s Paradise of Hope, to make / Our Doom more wretched?"

Cordelia reigns as Queen at the end, and even blind Gloucester gets to live, adding his blessing to the marriage of Edgar and the new queen. After the Restoration, audiences who had recently been through the chaos of civil unrest, tyrannous leadership, and a nasty plague probably couldn't take the bleak ending Shakespeare provided. Well... New Yorkers today can relate, so thank you, New York Classical, for providing this magnificent respite!

The production is playing until August 8th in Battery Park, just outside Castle Clinton. There are chairs available, but I recommend bringing a blanket instead and having a picnic on the grass before the play starts. Showtime is at 7:00 pm, and while tickets are free, you will need to make a reservation.

Tonight, the weather was perfect for outdoor theatre, so go while you can. It isn't often you get to see a feel-good King Lear!

Cataracts and Hurricanoes!

Tuesday, I was supposed to see New York Classical Theatre Company's production of King Lear in Central Park. I was particularly excited because rather than doing the classic version by William Shakespeare, they promised they would be performing the happy ending by Nahum Tate!

Well, unfortunately, they called off the show due to weather. I had already walked down to the park, so I ended up getting drenched on the way home. Fortunately, the company offered to reschedule my reservation for a different date. I asked them to rebook me for Saturday, tonight.

Well, they got through quite a bit of the play this time, bur as Lear was calling out "You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout / Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks!" the audience was feeling drops of rain start to come down on us. It wasn't too much, so the actors soldiered on. Gloucester got his eyes gouged out, and then the director made an announcement: The show was canceled. As I walked home, I got drenched yet again.

Is the third time a charm? Well, Lear didn't have much luck with his first two daughters, and then along came Cordelia... so... maybe?

I've made a reservation to see the show when it will be playing in Castle Clinton later this month. Come to think of it, the last time I saw New York Classical perform King Lear, it was also at Castle Clinton, but that was with the original ending. I want the happy ending, dang it!

New York Classical isn't the only company performing free Shakespeare in the parks this summer. Classical Theatre of Harlem is doing an adaptation of Richard III by Will Power called Seize the King, Greenhouse Ensemble is doing a production of Twelfth Night, and the Public Theater is doing Jocelyn Bioh's adaptation of The Merry Wives of Windsor. In addition, Shakespeare in the Parking Lot is doing Shakespeare's collaboration with John Fletcher, The Two Noble Kinsmen.

Outdoor theatre is always a challenge, but I'm hoping the rains let up so I can see at least some of these upcoming shows!

The Black Doctor

Ira Aldridge is one of those remarkable people we've known about for a long time, but who has been in recent years increasingly getting the attention he deserves.

Aldridge was born in 1807 in New York, though he later claimed to be from Africa, probably in a bid to appeal to European audiences who wanted to view him as a more "exotic" foreigner than just another American ex-patriot.

His father sold straw for a living, but also was a lay preacher. Later scholars have speculated that young Ira might have gotten his first vocal training from his father, who not only had to have a strong voice to preach, but who also hawked his straw from a cart he took around New York City, which meant he must have needed a strong voice to attract customers.

Aldridge's real theatrical training came from the African Grove Theatre, though. William Alexander Brown founded the theatre in 1821 to perform amateur productions of plays by Shakespeare and others, including Brown himself, whose play King Shotaway was sadly lost. The actors were of African ancestry, including William Hewlett, the star of the company, who was particularly famous for playing Richard III.

At the African Grove Theatre, Aldridge played such parts as the Inca warrior Rolla in Richard Brinsley Sheridan's Pizarro, but the company did not last long. The year the African Grove Theatre began offering their performances in downtown Manhattan, the Park Theatre was rebuilt in the same neighborhood.

The Park Theatre offered professional performances by white actors for a predominately white audience, though African Americans like Aldridge did watch shows from the upper balcony. When white audience members saw how good the productions at the African Grove were, though, they started patronizing the amateur company, and this was too much for the managers of the Park Theatre to take. They began to harass Brown's company, and the African Grove Theatre was eventually burned down, likely at the instigation of the management of the Park Theatre.

Aldridge probably saw that if he was going to have any success as an actor, it wasn't going to be in his home country. He emigrated to Britain, and had some success playing roles including Othello. That's when the most famous portrayer of Othello on the British stage, Edmund Kean, collapsed during a performance playing opposite his son Charles and died a couple months later. The theatre needed a new Othello, and Aldridge was chosen for the part.

What happened next is recounted in Lolita Chakrabarti's wonderful play Red Velvet. Reviews of Aldridge's Othello were mixed, and some were openly hostile and explicitly racist. Aldridge ended up leaving London, instead touring provincial theatres in Britain as well as larger venues on the European continent. There, he won great renown not just in Othello, but also Richard III, The Merchant of Venice, and King Lear, as well as dramas by Matthew G. Lewis, Charles Robert Maturin, and others.

In 1846, the hack dramatist Auguste Anicét-Bourgeois wrote a play called Le Docteur Noir. Anicét-Bourgeois seems to have written the play together with Philippe François Pinel Dumanoir, a melodramatist who would go on to adapt Uncle Tom's Cabin for the Théâtre de l'Ambigu-Comique in Paris. Le Docteur Noir might not have been great literature, but it did provide moments for great acting, and it appeared on the London stage in a translation by John Vilon Bridgeman and further adapted by Thomas Hailes Lacy.

In Bath, Bristol, and Dublin, Aldridge began performing another adaptation of the play by Thomas Archer. Aldridge's adaptation of The Black Doctor gives particular emphasis to race and class, according to theatre scholar Keith Byerman, who did a thorough analysis of different texts.

The play begins on the Isle of Bourbon, now known as Réunion, in the Indian Ocean near Madagascar. In the first scene, we hear of Pauline de la Reynerie, a French noblewoman whose life was saved by Fabian, the titular black doctor played by Aldridge. Pauline's mother was on a ship that is assumed to be wrecked, but it was her mother's wish that Pauline marry the Chevalier St. Luce. Meanwhile, Fabian has mysteriously disappeared, though some say "he has been observed wandering on the cliffs, but always avoiding anyone who appeared to seek him."

Scene Two takes place in Fabian's hut, where Pauline tracks him down and gives him a purse full of gold to distribute to the poor since he has refused payment for his services. She also tells him that a mysterious man has been sighted near her house, and we understand that the stranger is Fabian himself, who is in love with her. Pauline's mixed-race foster sister Lia is in love with a white clerk, and when Pauline says she will help her to marry the man in spite of racial prejudice, Fabian begins to have hope for his own prospects.

The brief third scene concerns some minor characters, and prepares the audience for the thrilling climax of the act, illustrated on the first page of the published play. Fabian, hearing that Pauline has been betrothed to St. Luce, takes her to a grotto down by the sea, hoping the ocean will kill them both when the tide comes in and floods the grotto.

Wait... the doctor who saved her is now going to murder her? Well, it isn't much different from Othello killing Desdemona, is it? Unlike Othello, though, Fabian takes pity on his victim. Pauline, thinking she will die, confesses, "I have long, long loved you!" Hearing this, Fabian carries her to a rock where they are saved by a passing ship.

Act Two takes place at the house of Pauline's family in Paris. It turns out that her mother the Marchioness is not dead after all. Fabian and Pauline have been secretly married, but he is officially employed by her family as a servant, and the Marchioness clearly thinks very little of him. Instead, she wants Pauline to marry St. Luce so she can become a lady of honor to the Queen. (This is presumably Marie Antoinette, as the next act takes place at the outset of the French Revolution.) Pauline, distraught, tries to take poison rather than abandon her husband, but Fabian grabs the poison from her and flees from the room, promising the Marchioness he will restore her daughter to her since that is the only way to save his beloved Pauline.

The dramatic curtain at the end of the second act is exceeded in drama by a third act that takes place in the Bastille on the historic day of its storming in 1789. Both St. Luce and Fabian have been imprisoned in different cells in the Bastille. St. Luce is portrayed as a stuck-up fop, enraged that he can't get luxuries while in prison. Fabian, on the other hand, has been living in misery and trying to communicate with his friend Andre to get news of what is happening outside the prison. Revolutionaries storm the Bastille, freeing the prisoners, but it is too late for Fabian. Thinking Pauline is dead, he falls into an insanity, and the act ends with the cannons of the revolution sounding.

In the fourth and final act, we are transported forward to the year 1793, during the Reign of Terror. Pauline is considered an enemy of the people, since it was her family who was responsible for crimes against Fabian, the good black doctor who is now revered. Andre has been taking care of Fabian, who is still insane. When the mad doctor sees Pauline, it looks like she will be saved from the mob, but then Fabian sees St. Luce beside her, as well as a portrait of the Marchioness. Still thinking the Marchioness is alive and will kill Pauline if they are together, Fabian denies being her husband. A man in the mob fires a gun at Pauline, but Fabian throws himself in front of her, taking the bullet. With his dying strength, Fabian produces the proof of their marriage, saving Pauline at the cost of his own life.

If the play sounds melodramatic, well, it is in fact a melodrama, even including a musical chord at the moment Pauline sees her husband in the final act. Aldridge might not have been a great playwright, but he was a great actor, and the play he adapted no doubt provided a suitable vehicle to display his own talents.

Intermission

Today, I had to go to Midtown for a chiropractor's appointment, and since I was in the neighborhood, I wanted to swing by Amy's Bread. That meant walking through Times Square and the theater district.

There, in the middle of a mostly empty Times Square, across the street from a shuttered Gap and underneath an advertisement for The Twilight Zone, was a trashcan that had on its side the message: "Embrace the Absurd."

Well, I guess that's typical 2020. In New York City, our mayor has defended police officers who disgraced their badge and uniform by driving head-on into protestors. Not to be outdone, the current occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue had his Attorney General violently clear a public park in order to hold a photo op in front of a church.

Are we living in the Twilight Zone? (Sadly, George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery are no longer living in it....) Theater is banned, libraries are closed, and none of us knows how much of a country is going to be left when we get up in the morning. Is this the absurd we're asked to embrace? Well, the world is starting to look like a Samuel Beckett landscape. Endgame, perhaps...?

Somehow, police brutality, military action against protestors, and grand presidential blasphemy have made us forget about the deaths of more than 100,000 Americans due to a completely foreseeable viral outbreak. You know, you would think the deaths of 100,000 people would be hard to forget, but this is 2020. Broadway hasn't forgotten them, which is why it will remain closed until at least after Labor Day, and possibly not until next year. The Metropolitan Opera has officially said they won't reopen until the new year.

Optimists point out that an outbreak of the plague might have prodded William Shakespeare to write King Lear, but temporary theater closures have a way of becoming more or less permanent. Outbreaks of plague in Stuart England preceded a political crisis that led to the theaters being shuttered for a generation, with drama banned from 1642 to 1660. Can we really trust our political leaders, who mismanaged a pandemic, ordered the military to mobilize against our own people, and are now seemingly claiming divine right? What else might they try to pull?

Well, if you're looking for a sign of better things to come, head down to the Broadhurst Theatre on 44th Street. That's where I saw the life-affirming proclamation "ONLY INTERMISSION" above the once and future home of Jagged Little Pill.

The Alanis Morissette/Diablo Cody musical was not at the top of my list of things to see, but I think if I could watch it now, I would fall head over feet. (I know! Isn't it ironic?)

The Bible in Shakespeare

I'm pleased to announce that my review of Hannibal Hamlin's book The Bible in Shakespeare has come out in the online journal Performance, Religion, and Spirituality.

Hamlin's study of Shakespeare's allusions to the Bible is a valuable resource for anyone teaching or studying the plays of the Bard. In addition giving an overview of Shakespeare's Biblical allusions, it also includes case studies of the Roman plays, the character of Sir John Falstaff, and the tragedies Macbeth and King Lear.

You can read my review of the book here. I enjoyed it very much, though I'm sad we now have to content ourselves with reading about Shakespeare rather than seeing his plays performed live.

A Blog of the Plague Month

It was about the beginning of September, 1664, that I, among the rest of my neighbours, heard in ordinary discourse that the plague was returned again in Holland....

That's how Daniel Defoe begins A Journal of the Plague Year. Well, COVID-19 isn't the plague, which killed a third to half the population of Europe when it spread through the continent during the 14th century. Even worst-case scenarios don't suggest that.

Nor is it as bad as the plague was in 1665 when it ravaged London yet again. That outbreak wasn't as severe as the original onslaught in the middle ages, but by the 17th century people had built up some immunity to it, as no doubt we will to this latest virus. The disease that devastated London in Defoe's novel got worse as the weather grew warmer, whereas experts predict the current outbreak could abate during the warmer months. If it's any comfort (which it probably isn't) we have it good compared with Defoe's protagonist.

Still, it's hard to focus on anything other than the fear of disease that's gripped hold of New York, the country, and the world. At the college where I teach, classes are moving online not just for the month, but for the rest of the semester. (Given that the administration had been pushing us to go online long before the virus was a concern, I suspect this has as much to do with saving money as with public health concerns.) A production I had coming up has been postponed to October, and the Shaw conference I had hoped to attend in May has been postponed indefinitely.

London theatres remain open for now, but Broadway has shut down until Easter. The Metropolitan Opera has cancelled performances as well, but fortunately will be broadcasting operas on the internet all this week. That effort is much appreciated. Though there is no substitute for live performance, the Met recognizes that human beings have needs other than just bodily functions. With churches closed, our spiritual needs are not being met, and there is a complete lack of political leadership right now. The Met seems to be one of the few institutions that actual cares about people beyond telling them to stay at home and not touch their face.

We've all heard the story by now of how Shakespeare wrote King Lear during an outbreak of the plague. Honestly, that sounds a bit suspect to me, since we're not even entirely sure in what year Shakespeare wrote the play. Sometime around 1606 seems like a good guess, though, and I went out (before all the bookstores close) to buy a copy of James Shapiro's book The Year of Lear, which makes that speculation. I am unlikely to write Lear during this outbreak, though, since moving my classes online will probably take up much of my remaining spare time.

Today is the Ides of March, and the American Shakespeare Center chose this day to endorse on the New Play Exchange all of the finalists for their Shakespeare's New Contemporaries contest. Matt Bird and I collaborated on a play called Shakespeare or the Devil which was one of those finalists. Now all we need is for our present plague to recede so someone can produce it.

Top Plays of 2019

I've come up with this year's list of the top plays I saw that opened in New York in 2019.

Of course some plays didn't qualify, like What the Constitution Means to Me, which opened last year Off-Broadway, or Timon of Athens, which I actually saw in England.

Last year, Travesties and Twelfth Night topped the list, and this year included pieces produced by Roundabout and The Public Theater as well. Here's this year's top ten, in reverse order:

10. Antony and Cleopatra - Hudson Warehouse provides a mixed bag of free classical theater in Riverside Park, but this year's modernized production of one of the great tragic love stories of all time was definitely worth seeing.

9. The Importance of Being Earnest - Another great free outdoor production this year was New York Classical Theatre's clever take on Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest. This year they performed the play in both traditional and gender-swapped versions.

8. Midsummer: A Banquet - Food for Love Productions turned Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream into a tasty treat with this immersive production directed and choreographed by Zach Morris. The Art Nouveau aesthetic worked brilliantly, but it was the remarkable acting that sold the show.

7. Cyrano - Yes, this musical adaptation of Cyrano de Bergerac by the New Group was all over the place, but it still managed to make me cry... a lot. If they end up releasing a cast album, definitely buy it. And yes, Peter Dinklage can sing. (We already knew Jasmine Cephas Jones and Grace McLean could.)

6. King Lear - Glenda Jackson gave a performance of a lifetime in this Broadway production of Shakespeare's bleakest tragedy. Sam Gold's direction was problematic at times, but a supporting cast including Jayne Houdyshell and Ruth Wilson made up for it, and the production was thoroughly enjoyable, if rather long.

5. Caesar and Cleopatra - Gingold Theatrical Group scored a hit again this year with their Off-Broadway revival of an epic historical comedy by George Bernard Shaw. Director David Staller's imaginative staging featured seven amazing actors and one hysterical puppet. I'm looking forward to seeing what GTG does next year!

4. Hillary and Clinton - Lucas Hnath's play about the 2008 presidential primary had already been making the rounds before landing on Broadway this year. His writing is always clever, but Broadway audiences had the added benefit of seeing Laurie Metcalf and John Lithgow in the title roles.  The play succeeded by eschewing historical accuracy in favor of a more metaphorical truth.

3. Much Ado About Nothing - The stand-out Shakespeare production of the year was undoubtedly The Public Theater's production of Much Ado About Nothing in Central Park. Director Kenny Leon assembled an incredible cast, and fortunately their performance was recorded and aired on PBS to be shared with the entire nation. If you missed it in the park, make sure you see the recorded version.

2. Scotland, PA - A lot of people have been crowing about Hadestown, which I saw both Off-Broadway and in London, though I have not yet seen in its new Broadway incarnation. The best new musical that I saw this year was Adam Gwon's Scotland, PA, a brilliant adaptation of the 2001 film, which was itself based on a certain Scottish Play. Alas, Roundabout has closed this production, but it deserves to have a longer life elsewhere.

1. Juno and the Paycock - Though I'm not a huge fan of Sean O'Casey, this spring Irish Repertory Theatre presented his three Dublin plays in rep, which is an opportunity not to be missed. Of the three, Juno and the Paycock is O'Casey's best play, and this production was masterfully directed by Neil Pepe to navigate the layers of comedy and tragedy for maximum effect. Irish Rep has a great line-up of shows for the coming year, including Dion Boucicault's classic farce London Assurance, which is running now.

I'm looking forward to that and lots of other great shows in 2020!

The Time's Plague

Last night I finally saw Sam Gold's production of King Lear starring theatre legend Glenda Jackson. One might think that the defining issue of this production would be the casting of a female Lear, but that was not the case. Not by a long shot.

Sure, Jackson is undeniably female in appearance, as is Jayne Houdyshell, who plays the Earl of Gloucester. However, both characters wear male attire and are referred to as "he" throughout the piece. Similarly, the Fool is played by Ruth Wilson, who also portrays Cordelia, but in all three cases we quickly accept the characters as male, regardless of voice or appearance.

No, Sam Gold, who has caused previous stirs on Broadway directing such plays as Fun Home and A Doll's House, Part 2, has made gender-bending one of the less remarkable aspects of this production. Perhaps the most remarkable, for good or ill, surrounds the use of Russell Harvard to play the Duke of Cornwall as deaf, with Michael Arden playing the "Aide to Cornwall" who serves as an interpreter, providing sign language for the Duke and translating the Duke's signing into spoken English.

Notice that the Aide is interpreting for the Duke, not for the audience. While many shows these days offer interpreted performances for the deaf and advertise them on their websites, that does not seem to be the case with King Lear. If the production does offer interpreted performances, the producers seem to have kept them a secret. And what a great opportunity that could have been! Deaf audience members could have come to see King Lear with a deaf performer playing Cornwall and with much of the dialogue interpreted from the center of the stage, not just from one or two interpreters at the edge of the action.

Instead of providing accessibility for the deaf, the Broadway production provides the illusion of accessibility, and all for the benefit of hearing audiences who get to pat themselves on the back and imagine themselves as open-minded and inclusive while they are actually continuing to shut out deaf audience members. At worst, the casting of Harvard (an actor who according to his Wikipedia biography has residual hearing but identifies as deaf) has uncomfortable echoes of staging practices in Shakespeare's own time of using physically or mentally disabled performers for the entertainment of "normal" audiences.

Readers of this blog know I have little patience for theatre artists who trumpet their own horn about accessibility while hypocritically producing ridiculously inaccessible pieces of garbage. If producers want to truly put on shows accessible for the deaf, we know how to do it. A beautiful example of such a show was the Deaf West production of Spring Awakening, which not only had Harvard in the cast, but was actually directed by Arden, who plays Cornwall's Aide in King Lear. Clearly, these two champions of inclusive theatre were on board with Gold's concept, but then why couldn't the producers have made the performances accessible to deaf audiences--at least at select shows they could have advertised on the play's website?

While still inaccessible for deaf audiences, the performance was arguably made accessible for a deaf actor, but that position is rendered ridiculous by the fact that Harvard also plays the minor role of Curan (though he is not credited as such) and in that role vocalizes his lines without a trace of an accent. (The same could not be said of Cornwall's wife Regan, played by Irish actress Aisling O'Sullivan, whose accent was nearly unintelligible to my American ears.) Harvard is talented enough that he could have appeared on stage as Cornwall, speaking all of his lines and never needing a translator. Thus, the use of signing had nothing to do with accessibility in this case, and everything to do with creating a spectacle for hearing audiences.

Now that we have dispensed with the idea that the use of signing had the slightest thing to do with accessibility (unless there were some secret, unadvertised performances that provided additional interpretation for deaf audience members) we can proceed to judge it as spectacle. Though the production appears to have completely shunned actual deaf audience members, was its appropriation of deaf culture for a hearing audience at least dramatically effective? The answer is--for the most part--yes, it was. Shakespeare fans know that Cornwall has a loyal servant who refuses to stand idly by while the Duke blinds the Earl of Gloucester, and with the Aide's presence in every scene involving Cornwall, it was not difficult to guess who that loyal servant would be.

My big reservation artistically involves Harvard's dual role as Cornwall and Curan. There were plenty of people in the ensemble who could have played that minor role, but instead Harvard played it, seemingly in the exact same costume, only instead of wearing the kilt he wore as Cornwall, wearing trousers as Curan. Presumably, the audience was supposed to know that he was a different character because he wasn't signing and wasn't in a kilt, but the rest of his costume was the same, and Harvard's beard makes him unmistakable.

Later, when Cornwall is angry, he does vocalize some lines, but with a heavy accent that emphasizes the character's deafness. After he dispatches his Aide, he vocalizes many if not all of his lines. (This is again done for the audience. The production has already established that Cornwall's wife is fluent in sign language.) While his first few vocalized lines come out as impassioned roars, by the end of the scene, he seems to have dropped his accent entirely and is speaking quite clearly, in spite of the character having just received a mortal wound.

Overall, the concept could have worked, but Gold's direction muddies it. I felt the same way about the doubling of Cordelia and the Fool. Many Shakespeare scholars believe these two parts were written to be performed by the same actor, so the double casting makes sense. However, Gold's staging then implies that the Fool is actually Cordelia in disguise... or is he? The production seems to want to have it both ways, just like it wants to appear to be inclusive of deaf audiences even while it rejects their actual presence.

While I have mixed feelings about Wilson's Cordelia, her Fool was to me the heart and soul of the show. It is the job of the Fool to point out the obvious, and Wilson's Fool pointed out the parallels of a story about a mad king with power-crazed yet incompetent hangers-on and our country's present political situation. Nowhere was this more apparent than in the Prophesy of Merlin:

     When usurers tell their gold i' th' field,

     And bawds and whores do churches build,

     Then shall the realm of Albion

     Come to great confusion...

This production substitutes "this realm" for "the realm of Albion" with a special allusion to the Stars and Stripes, as if we needed it. As Gloucester says, "'Tis the time's plague when madmen lead the blind."