Shakespeare in Love

Whether you love it or loathe it, Valentine’s Day is inescapable when it rolls around every February. And each year we are confronted with endless parades of Hallmark cards, enormous heart-shaped boxes of chocolates, giant bouquets of roses, and a non-stop stream of commercials for sparkly pieces of jewelry. Only through the purchase of one or more of these items, we are told, can a person prove their love and devotion to their significant other. Yet I beg to differ. On this most polarizing of holidays, it might behoove many a befuddled romantic to turn to the Bard when in need of some help. After all, could there be a more perfect combination than Shakespeare and love? Shakespeare has a great deal to say on this subject in almost all its myriad forms: romantic, jealous, unrequited, doomed, puppy, courtly…the list goes on and on. He created many of the most famous romantic pairings in history: Romeo and Juliet, Antony and Cleopatra, Katherine and Petruchio, Othello and Desdemona, Jack and Rose (oops – maybe not). Love shows up in some way in every single one of his plays, not to mention his sonnets, which are overflowing with love of the conventional and unconventional sort. According to www.shakespeareswords.com, the word “love” shows up 1962 times his plays. In short, this was a man who knew what he was talking about. First, however, a brief summary of this celebration of love:

In the beginning…

As with the other holidays I have examined on this blog, to find the origins of Valentine’s Day we must travel back to ancient Rome. This time, the beginning of spring was the cause for celebration among the pagan Romans, in the form of the festival of Lupercalia, a celebration of fertility and birth. And, once again, the early Christian church elected to overlay this holiday with one of their own, leading to a blending of Christian and pagan tradition. At the end of the fifth century A.D., Pope Gelasius declared February 14th to be St. Valentine’s Day. When it comes to the namesake of this holiday, however, the source is a bit of a mystery. At least three different saints by the name of Valentine are recognized by the Catholic Church today, and no one knows which of these, if any, is the patron saint of February 14th. One popular theory is that he was a third century Roman priest who performed secret marriages for young lovers, when it was outlawed for single men required for military service to marry.

Over the centuries, Valentine’s Day continued to grow in prominence and popularity. It was long thought that the first association of St. Valentine’s Day with romantic love dated to Geoffrey Chaucer’s Parlement of Foules (1382), when he wrote, “For this was on seynt Volantynys day/ Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese his make.” It’s more likely, however, that this verse refers to a date not in February but in May, honoring the marriage of King Richard II of England and Anne of Bohemia. The initial idea was planted, though, and many still associate these lines on lovebirds with February 14th. Just eighteen years later, in 1400, a “High Court of Love” was established on Valentine’s Day in Paris. This “court” dealt solely with love contracts, betrayals, and other romantic matters, and the judges were selected by women based on a contest of poetry reading. Shortly afterward, in 1415, the oldest known Valentine was written by Charles, Duke of Orleans, to his wife after he was imprisoned in the Tower of London following the Battle of Agincourt. By Shakespeare’s day, a tradition was firmly in place for celebrating Valentine’s Day as an occasion for expressing hidden or not-so-hidden affection.

A Renaissance Valentine

During the Renaissance, a common Valentine’s Day activity was for men and women to draw names from a bowl in order to find out who their “Valentine” for the day would be, a tradition dating back to the original Roman festivities. They would then wear the name they had drawn pinned on their sleeve (thus the expression, “to wear your heart on your sleeve”). In Shakespeare’s day, gloves, not flowers or jewelry, were the favored Valentine gift. A lady might approach her gentleman of choice and say, “Good-morrow Valentine, I go today;/ To wear for you, what you must pay;/ A pair of gloves next Easter Day.” The selected fellow was then required to send the lady a pair of gloves, and, if she wore them on Easter, he would know his romantic overtures would be further welcomed. If the lady was the superstitious sort, she might pin five bay leaves to her pillow at bedtime on Valentine’s Day in the belief that she would then dream of her future husband.

Of course, I couldn’t write about Valentine’s Day without including some recipes. Try this Stuart era recipe for Knotts and Gumballs – glazed cookies that can be made in the shape of hearts or, if you’re feeling especially ambitious, Celtic love knots. And as for that Valentine staple, chocolate, it was brought back to Europe from the New World by Spanish Conquistadors in the early sixteenth century, and it caught on quick. Yet its original form was as a drink, not as truffles or bon-bons. As a beverage, chocolate became highly fashionable and was originally a drink reserved for the wealthy. We may find a hint of what was to come, though, in this quote by Captain John Wadswroth, from his 1652 treatise Chocolate: or, an Indian Drinke: “And sometimes they make tablets of the Sugar, and the Chocolate together: which they doe onely to please the Pallats, as the Dames of Mexico doe use it; and they are there sold in shops, and are confected and eaten like other sweet-meats.”

Shakespeare + Valentine’s Day


Franco Zeffirelli’s 1968 Romeo and Juliet.

When searching for suitable Shakespearean inspiration on Valentine’s Day, it is probably wise not to turn to his most direct reference to the holiday, spoken by Ophelia in Hamlet:

“Tomorrow is Saint Valentine’s day
All in the morning betime,
And I a maid at your window
To be your Valentine.
Then up he rose and donned his clothes,
And dupped the chamber door;
Let in the maid, that out a maid
Never departed more” (4.5.48-55).

Baz Luhrmann's 1996 Romeo + Juliet.

Given that these lines are sung by a poor girl descending into insanity, they are not the most romantic of sentiments (however close this may be to many a single girl’s state of mind on Valentine’s Day). Luckily, Shakespeare has many more tender things to say on the subject of love. So, why not step away from conventional gifts on Valentine’s Day and return to the power of the word? In Shakespeare we find a compendium of all expressions of love – true, deep sentiments beyond any greeting card limerick. And while you might hesitate “to seek to quench the fire of love with words” (The Two Gentlemen of Verona, 2.7.20), the prudent romantic must also keep in mind that, “The more thou dammest it up, the more it burns” (The Two Gentlemen of Verona, 2.7.24). Therefore, instead, declare proudly,

“Then let me go, and hinder not my course.
I’ll be as patient as a gentle stream,
And make a pastime of each weary step,
Till the last step have brought me to my love;
And there I’ll rest, as after much turmoil,
A blessed soul doth in Elysium” (The Two Gentlement of Verona, 2.7.33-38).

Natalie A.

The World Wide Web of Will Shakespeare

You could make the argument that the internet is geared toward people who want to save time, or for people with short attention spans. You could also say that this newfangled creation is no place for someone like Shakespeare. And, indeed, while searching for Shakespeare online, you might come across a version of his work that goes something like this, from Book-A-Minute Classics:

“Othello, by William Shakespeare

Iago
Your wife's cheating on you.

Othello
She is? (kills wife) Damn, she wasn't really.

THE END”

Presumably, this account is for those for whom Cliff Notes is too detailed. However, having recently become more aware of the role of digital education in bringing Shakespeare into the 21st century, I decided to follow up this discovery by looking into other ways Shakespeare is infiltrating the internet. Beyond the webinars and podcasts, the online courses and organizational education websites, beyond the multitude of searchable Shakespeare databases, and the hundreds of blogs dedicated to Shakespeare, there’s a lot (and I mean a lot) to uncover. There are online Shakespeare comics; there’s even a Shakespeare a.i. chat-bot (seriously). A person could spend hours chatting with this thing; it’s like a Shakespearean Magic 8 Ball. Needless to say, what I found was surprising, strange, sometimes befuddling, and sometimes exceptionally impressive.

For a fun introduction to this whole idea, check out the feature on the website of the Victoria and Albert Museum called “Inside the Renaissance Home.” This interactive set of pages allows you to investigate “Themes” and “Places,” as well as allowing you to “Explore” different items by moving them around and taking them apart. Many of the home fixtures are strikingly relatable, like a hanging mirror with a removable panel (to make sure your hair looks alright from the back, naturally), a cleverly designed folding chair, and an intricately decorated game-box with the pieces stored inside.

Follow this up with an engaging article on the subject from Edutopia, the educational foundation of that master of digital worlds, George Lucas. I also recommend checking out some of the YouTube videos discussed in the article, as YouTube is a whole other venue for modern Shakespeare lovers of all sorts to bring the Bard into new dimensions. A search for Shakespeare on YouTube yields 6420 results, and the array of music videos, original productions, homages, and parodies available, ranging from professional to questionable quality, is seemingly limitless.

This article, in turn, led me to Second Life, an online virtual world built around the interaction of avatars in simulated environments. Although I’m still undecided on how I actually feel about this whole concept, because, let’s face it, nothing beats seeing Shakespeare live and, well, not while staring at your computer screen, there is in fact an entire Shakespeare company based in Second Life. Known as the Second Life Shakespeare Company, this group uses animation technology to create realistic avatar movement in an entirely virtual theatre. So far, SL Shakespeare has staged full-ensemble, unabridged scenes from Hamlet and Twelfth Night using voiceover acting. Ina Centaur, the Visual Director of the SL Shakespeare Company, on some of the unique benefits, differences, and even similarities of virtual theatre to the real thing:

“SL Stagecraft is reminiscent of traditional stage tech, but rather than being a mere virtual representation of its original counterpart, it also contains components that may not be possible in real life. […] For example, gravity isn’t mandatory on SL; thus, other than for aesthetic reasons, there’s no need for complex systems of pulleys and such for Elizabethan special effects like flying across the stage. Weather and ambient lighting, especially relevant for an outdoor theatre, can also be perfected to a weathermonger’s dream. […] But, limitations with SL’s current avatar system prevent actors from conveying precise facial expressions or even syncing avatar lips to words live. […] And, let’s not forget the serendipity of crashing or power/connectivity loss on the user side—the virtual analog of falling asleep or suffering a heart attack in medias rea.”


Promotional poster for SL Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night

I have to say, though, that the mix of Shakespeare and the digital reaches whole new heights with Atomic Shakespeare. Good luck trying to figure this one out. Atomic Shakespeare claims to be an interaction of original text and audience behavior in order to produce new systems of Shakespeare’s words. I think (I think) it’s an attempt to take the free-thought associations the reader makes while perusing Shakespeare and then map them out in wacky charts. It’s sort of like Shakespeare for the mad scientist. If, for instance, you’ve ever wanted to examine a “molecular view” of the plays, then this is the place for you (this truly resembles a Shakespearean periodic table). The interactive element of this site involves being presented with a randomly generated passage containing certain underlined words, of which you select one. The site then searches for all other passages in Shakespeare’s canon containing that word, and from all of these you then pick another underlined word, and so on and so forth, until you have a collection of eclectic passages connected by these words which jumped out at you. Here’s my own contribution to this mind-bending project - make of it what you will. I can’t say this gave me a new, profound insight into Shakespeare…but it was interesting.

All of the above is but a Shakespearean drop in the ocean of the internet. Anyone with an interest in Shakespeare can share their enthusiasm with the world through this venue; it’s the ultimate equalizer. And these expressions of creativity can take the form of a virtual world or a video or a crazy science experiment. The internet’s a big place. Who knew?

Natalie A.

Actor-Scholar Council 1/21/11

According to Dr. Ralph, the Actor-Scholar Council has two purposes: one, to give students the opportunity to ask about the Actors' Renaissance Season (ARS) and its rehearsal process, and two, to give actors the opportunity to ask any questions that they have about the shows. Today’s council focused on The Comedy of Errors and, to a lesser extent, The Malcontent. Actors in attendance included Tyler Moss, Sarah Fallon, Jeremiah Davis, Greg Phelps, Chris Johnston, and John Harrell.

We were lucky to have both Dromios and one Antipholus from The Comedy of Errors, allowing us to discuss how the actors played twins. Tyler and Greg (the Dromios) are both experienced clowns and went for a classic clown look. They used a lot of broad gestures, each one mirroring those the other used in other scenes, to get laughs and to establish their relationship. The ARS affords so little rehearsal time that actors who aren’t on stage together seldom get to see each others’ work. Both Dromios, however, even went to see the other’s rehearsals so they could play off what the other did.. While establishing their similarities as twins, the two maintained their individualities. Tyler’s Dromio was more of a clown, while Greg’s was a fool. By happy accident, John was cast as the Antipholus with the clown Dromio, and John claims to love beating on Tyler. This pairing led to a memorable scene in which Antipholus beats Dromio with a rope during Dromio’s monologue.

While the Dromios played up their similarity, the Antipholi played up their difference, relying chiefly on matching costumes to identify them as twins. One moment that struck John came when he realized that one twin is having the best day of his life, while the other is having the worst day. The Dromios had more extensive conversations about their relationship than either the Antipholi or the two sisters, based on what John and Sarah said about these latter pairs.
The council spent a lot of time discussing men playing women. Dr. Menzer wanted to know if there was any ethical consideration of casting plays thus in view of the shortage of female roles. Sarah pointed out that women can play men’s roles. The repertory system seems conducive to this cross-gender casting. Jeremiah pointed out also that men are generally only given small female roles. Tyler, wondering what would happen if men received female leads, mentioned how interesting it would be to have a man play Lady Macbeth, and one participant commented that that would lead to “a lot of pissed off actresses.”

Men playing women often disturbs audiences. Jeremiah, who plays Emelia in The Malcontent, found that men from the audience wouldn’t look him in the eye after the show. The ASC has taught by sufficient examples, one person argued, that it is okay for women to play men, but not the other way around, and a man playing a woman almost always gets a laugh. This rule is less universal in a tragedy, such as the current ASC touring production of Macbeth, in which (at least at one show) nobody laughed when a male Hecate entered. An interesting sidebar came up in the discussion of non-traditional casting: boys playing women in Shakespeare’s day struck audiences as erotic.

Jeremiah plays a theatrical rather than realistic woman in The Malcontent. He has few lines, so voice proved less important that physicality. Some of his decisions resulted from his costume, there being only one dress in our stock that fit him. He uses a fan either to hide or to accentuate his beard. Chris, on the other hand, plays the courtesan in The Comedy of Errors as a geisha, making it clear that he is really a guy, which Antipholus apparently doesn’t realize. At one point he takes off his wig and delivers a speech as a man. The choice proves interesting, and although men have played the courtesan in other productions, the geisha characterization is without precedent.

Tyler asked if the ARS is less stressful than the Summer and Fall seasons, which have a director. Opinions divided over this. Some actors thought it is. Sarah said it’s a different kind of stress. Chris finds it stressful, but enjoys the stress relief of the ARS. The rehearsal process for the ARS is so short, the first show opening after two to three days. If something doesn’t work in the rehearsal process, the actors must quickly change it, leading to stress relief when it turns out right. In comedies, it’s especially obvious when something doesn’t work because it doesn’t get a laugh..

Owing to the minimal rehearsal time, a Shakespeare play must open in the first slot. The ASC does this because the actors already know them and more of their speech is in our vernacular compared to the plays of his contemporaries. Also (scholars argued), Shakespeare was a superior crafter of plays. They also said that Marlowe and Jonson, were more skilled than, say, Massinger, so their plays, like Shakespeare’s, are easier to stage. Although Shakespeare’s characters are three-dimensional, character typing is especially useful, say the actors.

One last question which we addressed at the session was which scenes in The Comedy of Errors took the most time. Act 5 and “the door scene” (with one Dromio inside and the other out) took the most time. The actors blocked both early on in an effort to get group scenes out of the way. In contrast, last year the actors worked their first play in order. This turned out the better method, as this year they had to go back and reblock the two scenes once all the characters were established. These were the main points of last Friday’s productive and informative actor-scholar council, our first of 2011. If you would like to hear the entire session, it will be available as a podcast on the ASC site.

"O this learning, what a thing it is!"

This past Monday, January 17th, I had the chance to attend another Education event at the ASC. Guest lecturer Ryan Nelson, Digital Manager for Globe Education in London, was in Staunton to talk about some of his recent work. He discussed the importance of creating an interesting and entertaining education website for a place like the Globe Theatre, as well as the multitude of ways he went about coming up with and designing digital resources for teaching and research. “Participation through engagement” is the goal, as Nelson put it. And, as someone new to working in the realm of education, only just discovering the various ways of making the past relevant and, well, as cool to everyone else as it is to me, all of these projects struck me as ridiculously exciting.


The Globe Theatre, London

As part of his talk, Nelson walked through some elements of the Globe Education website. These ranged from the more scholarly to the more entertaining; from the basic to the fantastic, and all of which can be found at http://www.globe-education.org/. On the more scholarly end of things, you can browse through an archive of conference and lecture papers, like those from the 2006 Theatre History Seminar on the use of blood on the stage, where you can learn the history behind the nifty trick, “To cut off ones head, and to laie it in a platter” (always useful). Or you can peruse research bulletins, which act essentially as production diaries for some of the first shows staged at the new Globe and which also include some wonderful detail on the historical research and rehearsal processes of a play, as well as actor interviews (one actor from a 2002 production of The Golden Ass notes: if you’re a man playing a woman, it’s more than just “put on a funny voice and get on with it” – never walk in straight lines or show your thumbs).

On the more purely entertainment end of things, you can “adopt an actor,” which does not, as Nelson was quick to point out, mean that a member of the Globe’s company comes and lives at your house. Instead, it means that students can sign up to access exclusive blogs and podcasts from certain actors during a season. It’s a great way to get a close look at all the behind-the-scenes action of a Shakespearean-era playhouse (for example, Lady Macbeth likes to unwind with a glass of bubbly after a show). Probably my favorite site, however, was that for “Playing Shakespeare.” Although aimed at young people in London schools, it was a shameless blast for me as well. This section is all about interaction, featuring several of the Globe’s recent productions, including Macbeth, Romeo and Juliet, and Much Ado about Nothing. There are audio and video clips, and interactive texts with an automatic, pop-up glossary. You can also alternately view these select scenes as the original script or as the director’s edit. Nelson spoke about his hopes to expand this part of the Education website in particular, ideally to a point where different groups could edit and manipulate play texts for different purposes. He referred to it as creating “a modern prompt book.” This stuck with me, since part of my ASC research has included researching cue scripts and prompt books. Listening to Nelson, I found myself thinking that it is a strange and wonderful thing to compare this idea of a contemporary prompt book, able to be created digitally through instantaneous re-crafting of these centuries-old written words, to the original, carefully copied and compiled prompt books of early modern theatre. They are two so entirely different methods for accomplishing the same purpose, and it is tempting to imagine the original members of the Lord Chamberlain’s Men or the Admiral’s Men loving and thoroughly appreciating this concept.

Also within “Playing Shakespeare” is a “social network” mock-up (otherwise known as that word starts with “face” and ends with “book”), where characters from the plays have their own profiles, complete with “O wall, o sweet, o lovely wall.” Finally, students can post their own opinions on themes and issues of the different plays, where, Nelson joked, the students often discuss the weighty topics more civilly than adults. Browsing through this section of the website myself, it was satisfying to see the high number of posts under each category and to picture these youngsters voluntarily engaging in discussion and getting excited about the ideas presented. And they had some insightful things to say, too. About Much Ado about Nothing, one student stated, “I enjoyed the book even more because the type of things that occur in the play happen a lot in my age group or high school. So many emotions such as love, hate, jealousy, and justice occur at my school so therefore many people can relate.” Another student’s advice is rather more straightforward: “Watch the DVD.”

The main page of the Globe Education website claims to provide “Resources for people passionate about learning and engaging with Shakespeare’s plays.” What jumped out to me in this statement were the words “engaging with.” Before coming to work here, I had never made that unlikely connection between Shakespeare and the internet, and how critical the latter could be in promoting the former. As I continue to plug away at my own project, that oft-mentioned “Rehearsal Tools of the ASC,” I’m discovering that what makes this process so satisfying for me is that I am creating an educational resource for others while, at the same time, learning new things myself on a daily basis. And that’s not just new things about Shakespeare and early modern theatre, but new things about the role of an Education Department in places like this and the Globe. I left this talk feeling enthused and inspired to persevere with my own small contribution to the ASC’s website.

“I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite” (Cymbeline, 3.7.10).

Natalie A.

P.S. Two other organizations which Nelson referenced as being at the cutting edge of digital education were the Royal Opera House and the Tate Gallery – I leave you to check out these websites for yourself, as the wealth of material to peruse at each is astounding and beyond the scope of this entry.

New Year, Old Shakespeare

Happy New Year to one and all! Here’s to that renewed spirit and energy which comes with each new January, and which may be inspiring you to proclaim, “The day shall not be up so soon as I / To try the fair adventure of tomorrow” (King John, 5.5.21-22). Of course, with the new year also comes the customary resolutions to be healthier, happier, more productive, more successful, smarter, more well-read, etc. etc. But don’t get overwhelmed by such lists. Instead, why not get started on the latter two of those goals, at least, by learning some more about Shakespeare? And don’t be intimidated! You could start with something light and fun, for instance, like clothes.

I’ve lately been writing about the use of costumes in Shakespeare’s plays. One of the most interesting elements of this process has been the discovery that early modern plays were costumed with early modern clothing; there was little attempt to recreate an elaborate look and feel of the past. Instead, Julius Caesar, Timon of Athens, and King John alike all wore fashionable, 16th century garb. This means that, in the process of researching Elizabethan theatrical costumes, I’ve had to learn a lot about everyday Elizabethan dress. One fun way to get the basics of women’s dress of the time is to have a look at Cecily, the Elizabethan online paper doll at ElizabethanCostume.net, which has a plethora of other interesting info on Renaissance clothing. This is an entertaining way to keep your “farthingales,” “petticoats,” “kirtles,” and “bumrolls,” straight. Try to dress her inaccurately, though, and you’ll get a message like this: “My fitted kirtle looks passing strange when worn over a gathered petticoat; it doth not fit smoothly and evenly over so much petticoat fabric. Remove my petticoat ere dressing me in a kirtle.” This is serious business.

This past summer, I had my own up close and personal experience with early modern clothing, when I volunteered at the Bata Shoe Museum in Toronto, Ontario. Their special exhibition at the time was entitled “On a Pedestal: From Renaissance Chopines to Baroque Heels,” and the stars of the exhibit were several pairs of these wildest of Renaissance shoes. If you think today’s high heels are brutal, imagine wearing a pair of these! They were especially popular in Italy, where women would wear them hidden beneath their gowns to elongate their figures and display their social status. As you might imagine, the women also needed servants to accompany them everywhere they went in order to make sure they didn’t take an embarrassing tumble.

Shakespeare himself provides a testament to just how tall these shoes were in Hamlet, when Hamlet exclaims, “By’r Lady, your ladyship is nearer to heaven than when I saw you last by the altitude of a chopine” (2.2.424-426). In this case, Hamlet is addressing a member of the troupe of players who have come to Elsinore – a boy whose recent growth spurt is, apparently, equivalent to the height of a chopine (a fact which could prove problematic should he be needed to play a “ladyship”).

And while you may think the clothing of Shakespeare limited to crazy footwear and ridiculous ruffs, there are several ways in which he can still be quite fashion forward today. I recently stumbled across a blog entitled Mad Shakespeare, which offers some possible fashionable ensembles inspired by Shakespeare’s works, including Julius Caesar, Twelfth Night, and Othello.

The author of this blog mentioned that she used a site called Polyvore to create these outfits; this piqued my curiosity and inspired me to check out Polyvore myself, where I couldn’t resist creating my own Shakespeare-inspired look.

This one is my visual interpretation of Macbeth, with a distinct nod to the famous lady of that play. It had to, naturally, include some plaid, and I wanted to create a strong, empowered look with the high boots and wide belt. Some fur, in this case on the bag, seemed essential for the wild northern reaches of Scotland. And there was no way I could pass up those knife earrings. So, whether it be through fashion of the 16th or 21st century, the imagery of Shakespeare’s texts may be understood and interpreted in a variety of ways. (I’d love to see some other people’s outfit creations!)

See, you’ve already achieved a New Year’s goal; Shakespeare is a terrific resource for learning all sorts of new things. Now, you should probably make some cookies to celebrate (that whole “healthier” resolution can wait, right?).

Natalie A.

Eat, drink, and be merry!

“Some say that ever ‘gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour’s birth is celebrated,
This bird of dawning singeth all night long,
And then they say no spirit dare stir abroad,
The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
So hallowed, and so gracious, is that time.”

So said Shakespeare about Christmas in Hamlet, 1.1. And, in this quote, we get a perfect snapshot of that combination of Christian and pagan traditions which were and still are so prevalent in the celebration of this holiday. In Shakespeare’s day, celebrating the Saviour’s birth didn’t necessarily mean you were off the hook when it came to the charms of fairies and witches. For, just like Halloween, the celebration of Christmas on December 25th has its origins in pre-Christian festivals. In pagan Britain, the end of December marked the winter solstice, when the longest, darkest days of winter were past. Naturally, this required some partying and feasting. Later, when Christianity arrived on the scene, Easter was, in fact, the primary holiday of the year. It wasn’t until the fourth century that church officials decided to institute a holiday to celebrate the birth of Jesus. The only problem was the Bible does not specify any particular date as Jesus’ birthday. And, while sometime in spring would have made the most sense (given the whole shepherds watching their flocks thing), the end of December was chosen in order to absorb the pagan winter solstice activities. By the end of the sixth century, Christmas had made its way successfully to England, and the rest is history.

This holiday season is connected to winters of centuries ago though one especially unique link: this was the first time that a lunar eclipse has fallen on the winter solstice since 1638. In honor of this extraordinary event, I thought I’d promote some Shakespearean Christmas festivities. So, for those who are tired of the stresses of 21st century holiday shopping or listening to “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” for the umpteenth time, here are some alternatives.

The Earth’s shadow blankets the moon during this year’s rare lunar eclipse.

Everything you need to know to have a very merry Shakespearean Christmas:

Old Saint Nick and Other Traditions: The original Santa Claus was really a monk named Nicholas, who was born in third century Turkey. Renowned for his kindness and generosity and for giving away all his worldly goods, Nicholas became a very popular saint, particularly during the Renaissance. However, the image of him as a rotund, jolly gift-giver didn’t come along until much later. Instead of mourning the lack of Santa, though, you could appoint a Lord of Misrule for the duration of the holiday. Duties of the Lord of Misrule include presiding over the revelries, handing out gifts, devising entertainments, and calling people silly names. The Yule log was another common tradition of the time. In Elizabethan England, the Christmas season ran for twelve days, from Christmas Eve on December 24th to Epiphany on January 6th. The Yule log was brought into the house on Christmas Eve and was meant to burn throughout all twelve days.

Decorations: Can you have a Christmas tree? Sure, why not. Long before people brought trees into their homes for the holidays, evergreens of all sorts were seen as reminders of the life that would come again in the spring. As a bonus, hanging evergreen boughs over your door was believed to keep away ghosts and evil spirits during the winter. Germans are believed to have chopped down the first Christmas trees in the sixteenth century, and legend has it that Protestant reformer Martin Luther was the first to add lighted candles to the tree, a pre-cursor to our modern Christmas lights. (If you try this, make sure to keep a fire extinguisher handy.) Although in Elizabethan England you would be well ahead of your time, since Christmas trees didn’t make their way there until the German Prince Albert married Queen Victoria in 1840.

Christmas Revels: Favorite activities, which haven’t changed much over the years, included feasting, dancing, game playing, and storytelling. You could play the slightly harrowing game of “snapdragon,” which involves taking turns picking raisins out of a dish of flaming brandy and popping them in your mouth. And then, of course, there’s wassailing. The word “wassail” comes from the Saxon “wachs heil,” meaning “I give you health.” In towns and villages across England, groups would go from house to house singing songs and carrying empty cups which the master of the house was meant to fill with spiced ale, along with providing snacks such as cakes and cheese. If you wish to revive this tradition, some Elizabethan carols you could sing include the ultimate wassailing song, “Here We Come A-Wassailing.” Others which might be familiar to the modern listener are “I Saw Three Ships” (the ships in this traditional English folk song refer to the vessels bearing the supposed skulls of the three wise men to a cathedral in Cologne), “The Twelve Days of Christmas” (legend has it that this song was written for parents to pass on Catholic symbols to their children after Henry VIII supplanted Catholicism with the Church of England), and “The Holly and the Ivy” (both of which commonly festooned Elizabethan houses at Christmastime).

Refreshments: A mouthwatering picture of what graced the Elizabethan Christmastime table may be seen in Thomas Tusser’s 500 Points of Husbandry, published in 1573:

“Good husband and huswife, now chiefly be glad,
Things handsome to have, as they ought to be had.
They both do provide, against Christmas do come,
To welcome their neighbors, good cheer to have some.
Good bread and good drink, a good fire in the hall,
Brawn, pudding, and souse, and good mustard withal.
Beef, mutton, and pork, and good pies of the best,
Pig, veal, goose, and capon, and turkey well drest,
Cheese, apples and nuts, and good carols to hear,
As then in the country is counted good cheer.
What cost to good husband, is any of this?
Good household provision only it is:
Of other the like, I do leave out a many,
That costeth the husband never a penny.”

To try some of these recipes yourself, consult HistoricalFoods, which is quickly becoming one of my favorite websites. They have a recipe for that British Christmas staple, plum pudding, as well as one for authentic wassail.

Merry Christmas,

Natalie A.

PS. For some extra Shakespearean holiday humor, read about why Shakespeare hated Christmas (who knew?). Or check out these hilarious letters to Santa by Shakespearean characters. (Warning: rated PG-13!)

Centuries of Shakespeare

It is, of course, an oft repeated fact that Shakespeare’s plays have been performed, in some form, continuously since his death. For many years, however, there was a gap in my brain between the days of the man himself and the performance of his works today. My mind glossed over all those intervening centuries. Instead, there were only two Shakespeares: that of the Elizabethan era and that of modern theatre. Recently, I have begun to consider Shakespeare in other decades, and it has opened a whole new window into the past. It is especially fascinating to see how the art of early photography was used to document the theatre, and there is some magic element in seeing antique photographs from productions of these already-historic works. It is, essentially, a double layering of history upon history.

The Cleveland Press, part of the Cleveland State University Library, has an incredible photographic archive of Shakespeare in performance, and browsing through their collection was part of what piqued my curiosity in this heretofore unconsidered facet of Shakespeare. The oldest photograph which the Cleveland Press has is of stage actor Lawrence Barrett as Cassius in an 1870 production of Julius Caesar.

Barrett, looking very Roman as Cassius.

Looking at this photo led me down a new path of investigation, when I read that Barrett starred in this particular show alongside fellow actor Edwin Booth as Brutus. Now, Booth was perhaps the most famous Shakespearean actor of the nineteenth century. One of the biggest stars of his day, he was famous for his Hamlet, Richard III, and Shylock. Unbelievably, a wax cylinder recording of him performing Othello survives. Although the sound quality is poor, it’s spine tingling to hear this voice speaking from over a hundred years in the past, utilizing Shakespeare as the medium to reach across the intervening century.

Edwin Booth as Hamlet.

Edwin not only became famous as a player of Shakespeare but also became infamous as the older brother of John Wilkes Booth. That’s right – that’s the John Wilkes Booth, the assassin of President Abraham Lincoln. In fact, John Wilkes himself had appeared onstage several times before his most famous performance at Ford’s Theatre. Only that previous fall of 1864, he, Edwin, and their brother Junius had acted together in Julius Caesar as Marc Antony, Brutus, and Cassius, respectively. Edwin disowned his brother after the assassination and was himself forced to retire from the public eye for several months. It did not incur any lasting damage to his reputation, however, as he is still lauded and respected today as a master of the theatre.

The brothers Booth: John, Junius, and Edwin in Julius Caesar.

The Cleveland Press collection also contains a photograph of Sarah Bernhardt, possibly the most famous female actress of the nineteenth century.

The glamorous Bernhardt as Cleopatra in Antony and Cleopatra, around 1890.

This compelling picture spurred me on to learn that Bernhardt later made her film debut in 1900 in Le Duel d’Hamlet, a brief two minute reel of Hamlet’s duel with Laertes in which she played the title role. This is believed to be first ever film adaptation of that play, and it is also noted for utilizing the new innovation of playing pre-recorded cylinders of the actor’s voices and sound effects along with the film. The entire film may be seen here, unfortunately without the soundtrack, which has been lost.

Drew strutting his stuff as Petruchio.

Or check out this dapper fellow, John Drew, Jr., another famous nineteenth century Shakespearean specialist. Drew came from a family of actors and is the uncle of John, Ethel, and Lionel Barrymore. This also means that he’s the great-great uncle of Drew Barrymore.

All of the photos in this collection are like breadcrumbs leading down a trail of interesting discoveries, as I realized once I began browsing through them. Each one uncovers all new stories of Shakespeare and the actors who have brought his words to life over the centuries. The costumes are so elaborate and the expressions so vivid that there is an instant connection across time, making the viewer regret not being able to see these theatrical giants in action. It is impossible not to look at a photograph without wanting to find out a little bit more about that actor, to imagine how they were celebrities in their own time and how their work is still influencing performances of Shakespeare today. For it is not just that Shakespeare of the Elizabethan theatre who has informed how his works are produced in the twenty-first century, but rather a series of building blocks of trends and innovations resting on the shoulders of these men and women and those who came before them.

Natalie A.