BLOG POST #8 JUST A THOUGHT OR TWO ABOUT ACTORS

      Most of my actors have been from The Theatre Artists Workshop of Westport.
 Occasionally, I have been able to bring in actors from outside the group, when a role was too hard to fill from within.  For example, Daniel Randazzo, a young man who played Young Will and Hamnet in "Shakespeare in the Dark" at The National Arts Club:  The Theatre Artists Workshop does not yet have any members who are still children. And, actually, I have toyed with the idea of having this role filled by a small young woman, for practical reasons.  Having a child in a cast is a responsibility.  In this case, Daniel's father Peter is a fine actor and fit perfectly into the role of Henry Condell; so, although Peter is not a member of The Theatre Artists Workshop, his presence made it possible for us to cast Daniel with confidence.

         Previously, while the play was being developed at the Workshop here in Ct., an early version of it was presented at The Fairfield Museum, as part of its series celebrating theater in Fairfield County.  Young Will/Hamnet was played by an extremely gifted young actor named Bartek Szymanski.  When he auditioned for the role, Bartek was 15 but looked younger.  He had a lovely stage presence and read with great ease and charm.   Mark Graham and I agreed at that time that he would make a fine Hamnet (age 11).  Six months later, when we needed his services again, he appeared, now six feet tall.  He looked twenty.  And that is what  happens with child actors. They grow up, sometimes suddenly! 

            My son, as a teenager, auditioned for a role in Shakespeare on the Sound's "Henry V." There is young man in the play, probably a teenager, who follows Falstaff and his men off to war as their servant. And, in the course of the play, the poor boy is killed by the French.  This is presented as Henry's reason for ordering the killing of all the French captives. (This was not the true historical reason, but it was a more sympathetic one.)  My son was a tall, good-looking teenager back then, with a strong voice, a good stage presence, a real gift of relaxation on the stage, and lots of local experience.  He read very well. Yes, I know I'm his mother, but I also know a good actor when I hear one.  In any case, he didn't get the role. Who did:  a charming little boy who had an English accent.  The character is supposed to be killed off-stage, and we never see his body, we only hear Henry express his outrage at the boy's death.  In this production, the actor playing Henry V walked onstage with an agonized look on his face, carrying the body of the dead boy and holding him out for the audience to see.   My son and I were sitting next to each other in the audience, and he nudged me and whispered, "Mom, I couldn't have played the kid.  I'm taller than Henry V!"

                In other blog posts, I'll return to the subject of actors,  because I want to discuss the ways that actors can influence the way we see the characters we've written, both in  performance and in their insights into their characters (Katie Sparer, for example, on the character of Anne Hathaway Shakespeare) and, also how a different cast can test the soundness of a play ( the cast of "Shakespeare in the Dark/Hamlet's Shakespeare/Shakespeare Rising" in Utah).  Yes, it took me a while to get the title right--hence this parade of titles for New York, Utah, and then the final title.  I hope it's final.  "Shakespeare Rising" describes the action of the first play of the trilogy best, I think.  Also, Mark Graham will shoot me if I change the title one more time!

BLOG POST #7 PUTTING WORDS INTO THE MASTER'S MOUTH : PART 2--THE 24 HOUR PLAYWRITING FESTIVAL

             The monologue, I've been told, should be published in a book of monologues. I hope it will some day.  In the meanwhile, it was performed as part of a graduation ceremony at The College of St. Andrew's in Canada. William Scoular, one of the masters of English at the College, arranged for it to be performed for the parents of the graduates. "It went down a treat."  He later used another play of mine in his classroom.  But I get ahead of myself.  Mr. Scoular is very active in English theater.  You can read about him  by Googling his name.  I was very fortunate to get his encouragement.

              Locally, the monologue "The Great Will Shakespeare Speaks" had gotten someone else's attention, J. Sibley Law, one of the co-founders of SquareWrights.  He hadn't been able to attend the April show when the plays about Shakespeare were performed, but people kept telling him about the monologue.  So, a few months later, when SquareWrights produced a 24-hour play-writing event, and I agreed to participate, Mr. Law, as the producer, had a surprise for me.

               Have you ever "done" a 24-hour event, as a writer, actor, or director?  Have you ever gone to see the show that comes out of this intense and compressed period of creation?  Here's how it works: Everyone involved arrives at a location for a brief period of socializing. Then the business end of the meeting takes place. And a very efficient process it is.  Actors are matched with a director; that team is matched with a writer.  They quickly discuss what skills and interests they all have.  A topic is then announced by the producer for each writer, and then the group disperses.  The actors and directors get some sleep.  The writers stay up until their plays are written, and they have sent them off by email to the actors and directors.  Then, they fall into bed and try to sleep for a while. And good luck to them! The following day, the actors and directors rehearse.  That night all the plays are done before an audience,  as fully produced as possible.  No scripts, minimal props, some costuming if possible.

           We all met at a home in Stratford.  J. Sibley Law, our producer, had been there for a while already.  I was curious and game, not really knowing quite what to expect.  I was introduced to four people: my three actors and my director.  The actors were: Mark Frattaroli, Lucy Babbitt, and Jason Basso; the director Christopher Caltagirone.   The first two actors are highly gifted Shakespearean actors, who have their own company that performs classic works. Jason Basso was a very young, good-looking actor and game for anything. The director was experienced, talented, and serious.  When the topics were announced, mine was "Shakespeare in the Dark." Amazing.  Mr. Law was giving me the chance to write a short one-act play about Shakespeare on the spot.  And he had given me some amazing people to interpret my work. 

            When I got home, I spent the first hour doing a little research, with the books I had on hand about Shakespeare.  Then I wrote, and edited, and wrote some more. At four in the morning I emailed the script to the three actors and to the director.   (Lucy wrote back: "Mary Jane, Fabulous, Lucy."  I will never forget that and what it meant to me.)  I tried to sleep, but there must have been too much adrenaline in my system.  I felt as if I didn't have blood in my veins but jet fuel, and I swear I hadn't taken anything. 

           That night, accompanied by my husband, our daughter Annalisa and our son Nick, I went to the Square One Theater in Stratford to see the show.  I had had about 15 minutes sleep; so I was already in an altered state. But I couldn't believe what happened when my play began.  There was music. What music? I wish I could remember, but it was something lovely and romantic.  And then Jason Basso stepped onto the stage dressed in Elizabethan costume (yes, the Shakespearean actors had costumed the play!) and began to speak. As the play unfolded, I felt elated but so odd.  It was as if I had had a dream the previous night and now I was watching it on the stage.  The actors were wonderful!  And the director had noticed everything and highlighted the play with great care.  They had all given me such a gift, this magical experience. . . .as J. Sibley Law had planned.

BLOG POST # 6 PUTTING WORDS INTO THE MASTER'S MOUTH: Part 1

        In 2007 the SquareWrights of Stratford, CT, announced that the spring "prompt" for the April show was "Shakespeare."  Both my husband and I were members, and we decided to write plays for this event.  How could we resist?  Phil Schaefer, my husband, wrote an extremely funny comedy called "Sharper Than a Serpent's Tooth."  He modestly hoped he'd get "at least a couple of laughs."  Instead, the actors had trouble pacing their lines, once they had an audience, because the laughter never fully subsided.  I know how difficult it was to time the delivery because he had written a part for me.  And I would think the laugh was subsiding and open my mouth to speak, but, then,  have to wait because the joke had re-landed and a whole new bunch of people were laughing--and not just chuckling quietly either. (The play was later picked up and moved to The Town Players of New Canaan for a short run.)

          Mine was called "The Great Will Shakespeare Speaks." I wish I could tell you what gave me the idea to write a monologue for Shakespeare. I really don't know what got into me.  Perhaps I figured I'd try, and then think of something else if it didn't work.  But it did work. Shakespeare was very gregarious, noting he was in the company of fellow playwrights.  He was nostalgic about his years working in the theater. And he was horrified with some of the things happening in the world today, nothing political, just the general decline in basic human and aesthetic values.  It came trippingly off the tongue and played beautifully.  My actor, Will Rogers, was amazing.  He had the audience in the palm of his hand.   They listened very quietly and intently. They laughed when he joked.  They laughed at the end when he left and then returned with an after-thought.  The audience not only followed it all, they loved it all.

BLOG POST #5 My Mentor, Mark Graham

I joined The Theatre Artists Workshop of Westport in 2009, after having written Draft One of my  first full-length play about Shakespeare.  I submitted this draft as part of my application for admission to The Theatre Artists Workshop, a group of dedicated professional actors, directors, and  writers banded together to practice their crafts.  I had been writing short plays for years,  many of which were done as readings throughout the state.  But this was my first serious full-length play, and I sensed I was in over my head.  Four playwrights who already belonged to TAW read my draft and agreed that it, and I, had promise.  I was sponsored by Jo Anne Parady, a longtime member of TAW and also my friend. And so I was admitted. 

For months I attended meetings and watched how things were done, and who was acting in what; also who was directing what.  Because I knew I needed a director who would "get" my work and be willing to work with me.   I came to believe that Mark Graham would be just the person,  if he had the time, if he had the interest.  But he seemed so busy, I wondered if I was crazy to think that he might consider my work worth so much of his "spare" time.  He  already did so much, not only in the theater, but FOR the theater. And then there was the matter of his day job.  But, I figured, nothing ventured, etc.  So, I handed him my (mammoth) script and asked him if he would take a look at it.  To give him credit, though his eyebrows went up over his glasses at the weight of the thing, he took it graciously, and said he'd need a few weeks before he could get back to me. 

When he  ran into me again he said, "You realize, you have written a monster."  I was gob-smacked. Of course, the play, in its original form, did attempt to tell the entire story of Shakespeare's life.  What did he have in mind?  He said, "If you're willing to work on this, if you're willing to cut, I might be able to help you."  Since then, we have gone through many drafts of this play, many phone calls, many meetings at Penny's Diner, eating rice pudding and drinking tea to justify all the time we stayed at a table, with yellow pads and scripts all over it. We focused the play, renamed it, had public readings, and listened to the audience's critiques.

And I listened to Mark Graham, and continue to listen to him, because he knows just what I need to know.  He learned years ago what he's helped me to learn, in order to shape and polish "Shakespeare Rising" as well as "Judith Shakespeare Has Her Say."  We plan to continue work on the third play of the trilogy.  (And then, I have an idea for a collateral play.  But, one play at a time.) He has generously said to me:  "I couldn't write this play; I couldn't write a line of it."  But he SEES the play.  Even before I've taken it in a fruitful direction, he sees where it should go.  Even when we disagree, our discussion leads to a new and good outcome.  So I can honestly say I have found in him a remarkable creative partner.

BLOG POST # 4 The Language I Use

Sometimes my language is lyrical, especially early on in "Shakespeare Rising," as I
show Will Shakespeare as a retired man, living in Stratford again after his life's great adventure as a player and playwright in London and on the road.  He narrates this play from time to time, as he tries to understand how his life turned out as it did.  Some of this language was in the play from its very first draft, but Henry Woronicz strongly suggested I elaborate on Will's feeling for his childhood which he was leaving behind and the countryside he loved and evoked in loving detail from time to time.  And the speech gained so much from that suggestion.  As Shakespeare is about to relive his time in the meadow with Anne Hathaway when he won her consent to marry him, this is what he says:

What child is truly happy?  Or what man?  The Ancients wrote: "Call no man happy ‘til he is dead." A happy thought, indeed, writ by a fearless man. So, who amongst you wishes to be fearless?  Whilst we live, we chase vague longings.  Then comes death, and we are free of them.  But I was a happy boy, as happy as any child who thinks o'er much.   My childhood  passed in a dream of green-leaf days.   Father and I fished from the river bank.  At times I  stood on the little bridge to look down at the fish as they drifted by, and laughed as they made riot over the bread I had brought for them.  I walked the meadows, or lay down in them,  amidst the thyme, the oxlip, and the violets, inhaling the scent of the sweet musk roses. The birds sang in the hedges, and life was a blessing. Wherefore should I think of Devils?   I did, mayhap. . . at night. . .before I slept.  And in my sleep, from time to time.  But my days were full of sunshine. And with boyhood's end came a greater dream--a hope of limitless joy. Anne Hathaway!  Anne!

(Copyright 2013)

BLOG POST # 3: NOW WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?

      Last summer at the Utah Shakespeare Festival, my play "Shakespeare Rising" (which was
then called "Hamlet's Shakespeare") was given three readings under the direction of Henry Woronicz, the personable, distinguished, and gifted director and actor.  The New American Playwrights Project which is produced by Chuck Metten for the Festival invites three new playwrights each year to workshop their developing plays, benefit from their directors' insights, and, finally,  profit from a structured interchange with the audience after each performance.

        At one of these Question and Answer sessions, this question came from the audience: "From how many of Shakespeare's plays do you draw the quotes that appear in your play?"  I honestly didn't know the answer.  But Henry said, "About eight, I think."   Hmm.  Interesting.  Apparently, the quotations were from the plays I was most familiar with, either from seeing many productions of a play, (especially "Hamlet"), or from repeated readings ("King Lear").  But the words of Shakespeare that came most readily to me were from the plays I had performed in:  "Twelfth Night," "Othello," "Richard III," "Merry Wives of Windsor," "The Taming of the Shrew," "Romeo and Juliet," "Measure for Measure," and "All's Well That Ends Well"--even a very bad production of "Julius Caesar" in which I had played Cassius.

         I have suspected for a while now that acting Shakespeare is a tremendous way and perhaps the ultimate way to absorb  Shakespeare, the language of his rhythms. the flow of his language.  And, more, acting Shakespeare requires an actor to go within the life of his character and to participate in the life of the particular play.  Rehearsals expose the actor to the sequences of the language which take on layers of meaning with each repetition.

           My plays about Will are written in a form of Elizabethan English.  Of course, I'm not trying to write the way Shakespeare did.  I can't.  Who could? But as I am portraying imagined scenes from his life, I'm trying to give them a flavor of the period by giving an Elizabethan flavor to the language. Occasionally, when the right moment pops up, one of Shakespeare's phrases or lines will come to me, and I'll use it in a line of mine.  These words of his are recognizable, not, I hope, in a distracting way, but, rather, as echoes of a familiar and beloved voice. 

           An example:   In the second play of my trilogy, the one about Judith Shakespeare,  Old Judith is having a conversation with an English clergyman, the Rev. Ward.  The Rev. Ward is trying to pump Shakespeare's daughter for personal details concerning her late father's life.   As she goes along, she makes up stories that are to her father's discredit, and the Rev. Ward scratches out one of his notes, saying "God pardon sin."  That's not my line.  That's the line of  Friar  Lawrence in "Romeo and Juliet," when Romeo says, "The sweeter rest was mine."  And  Friar Lawrence replies, "God pardon sin. Wast thou with Rosaline?"  It was simply sitting there, very close to the surface, and out it popped.  And, in the mouth of the shocked Rev. Ward, it even gets a laugh.

            I don't claim to be an expert on Shakespeare's language.  I've read a little bit about his habits, the expressions  from his Warwickshire life that he did not change in all his years in London.   He rarely used the word "yes."  He almost always said "aye," instead. That kind of thing.  (I don't know at the moment which scholar to credit for this piece of information. When I find it, I'll note it on this blog. I had thought it was Michael Wood, and the passage I checked did talk quite a bit about the Warwickshire dialect used throughout Shakespeare's writing career, but it didn't specifically mention the yes/aye issue.  It's somewhere!)

             For me, Shakespeare's plays are about language, as much as they are about anything else.  When one director of a play I was in informed me not to be concerned that a fellow cast member was routinely PARAPHRASING ("The audience won't have the book on their laps; they 'll get the drift, and  never notice the difference."), I knew I had made a horrible mistake committing to this production.  A wise friend of mine told me later: "You wanted the role, but you should be more careful whom you accept gifts from." A wise friend indeed.

Blog Post #2 How All This Began for Me

     Americans are particularly susceptible to Shakespeare Worship.   If you start reading around about the question of "who wrote Shakespeare's plays," you'll find anecdotes about Americans who spent  years, fortunes, and even their sanity, in their quest to prove the truth of their theories.  (I'll probably post about some of them soon.  The stories are wonderful.)

      So, it is very American of me to say that my encounters with Shakespeare, and  my growing passion for him, began with the G.I. Bill.  All of  my grandparents were Italian immigrants. My mother never finished high school.  But her oldest sister, my Aunt Mary, was ambitious.  She had finished high school and gone to work.  When World War II broke out, she joined the WAVES. And when the war was over, she went to college on the G.I. Bill.  One of the things she studied at Syracuse University was Shakespeare.  After she graduated and moved on with her life, she left her copy of The Complete Plays of William Shakespeare in a sturdy brown bookcase in my grandmother's livingroom, which is where I first read "Romeo and Juliet."  I think I was twelve. 

       I had no idea anything like this existed.  It was so strange and beautiful and romantic. Especially romantic.  I couldn't BELIEVE Romeo and Juliet were going to die, despite the Prologue.  Maybe I skipped the Prologue, or didn't understand it.  But I'm sure I read the whole play hoping for a happy ending, and was, instead, found in tears in the livingroom. I was hooked. 

My Original Plays Try to Capture What I Feel Shakespeare Might Have Been Like. Blog Post #1

Presumptuous? Yes, I'm guilty as charged.  But, as a chronic Shakespeare groupie and an actress and playwright, it was only a matter of time before I turned my focus directly onto Will Shakespeare, the man I love.  How much of each of my plays is fictional?  A lot.  But the fiction is based upon research, as well as a lifetime of responding to the tenor of Will's imagination in his plays.  Don't we all feel that we sense this man at work, working harder than was required merely to succeed in his profession. (My daughter, who took a course in Elizabethan Plays Exclusive of Shakespeare, said to me, "Of course, they loved his plays and preserved as much as they could.  The other stuff was not very good!")

An over-simplification, of course, but when we experience his plays, either watching them performed or reading them ourselves, we sense that the work, though commercially successful, was to Will about something much more than mere success. They are the creations of an extraordinary mind testing its limits, and testing the limits of both language and imagination--his enormous, flexible, illuminating imagination.