Written on the Heart

As 2011 fades away, the RSC delivers its contribution to the celebrations of the 400th anniversary of the publication of the Authorised (King James) Version of the Bible.

Frankly, the first twenty minutes (or so) of Written on the Heart are a bit of a challenge: we seem to have landed in the midst of umpteen Rowan Williams lookalikes, all getting hot under the ruff on seemingly piffling points of translation: 'church' or 'congregation'; 'confess' or 'acknowledge'; 'heal' or 'save'? Oh please.

Clever move. With 'Why does any of this matter?' hovering, Edgar begins to forge a chain of profoundly human stories spanning more than 80 years of turbulent history - and completely justifies his perfect choice of title.

(And there are shelf-loads of history to get across: one shudders at the clunky nightmare that might have come from a less gifted dramatist. Top marks for artful exposition.)

Contrasting translators bookend the story: Jacobean prelate Lancelot Andrewes, whose devotion to the King's project may raise him to an Archbishopric - and, back in the 1530s, William Tyndale, exiled, imprisoned and facing death for daring to translate the scriptures so that both ploughboy and priest might have equal access to the word of God.

So far so worthy documentary? Far from it.

Edgar's swift and subtle storytelling draws us in to the passions implicit in the story: immense self-sacrifice, courage and vision - and also compromise, self-interest and betrayal.

And along the way he delivers a fizzingly engaging two-hander central scene, incorporating profound theology, political controversy - and (emphatically) many laughs as well as moments of tear-prickling emotion.

Director Gregory Doran has, as he so often does, gathered a Rolls Royce cast: special mention to the magisterial Oliver Ford Davies as Andrewes and Stephen Boxer whose William Tyndale had me heading home to read up this great man's story.

Written on the Heart runs at the Swan Theatre, S-u-A, until March. Don't miss it.

Chippy

Mr Gnome and I have emerged from tonight's performance of the RSC's new production of Peter Weiss's Marat/Sade. 

Does this classic example of the 1960s 'theatre of cruelty' still have the power to shock?

You bet.

But it wasn't the profusion of prosthetic willies or the character with compulsive masturbation issues (I know, SO last century) that left one speechless.

It was the Act 1 stunt when cast member Lisa Hammond tried to solicit a sub from an unsuspecting audience member: 'Oh dear, I'm so tired after the performance that I haven't the energy to cook for myself - could you stand me the price of some chips?'

The kindly chump offered her a tenner. Which, naturally, she spurned, berating him for patronising her (she uses a wheelchair). A fellow cast member chipped in, calling the nice man the (in most circs) still unspeakable word. How rude!

So come on, RSC, in what rarefied world is £10 not enough for a single fish supper? Oh please.

Lisa should have asked central character the Marquis de Sade - he'd organise a whip-round before you could say 'Batter my cod piece'.

That said, cast and crew dish up a rollicking revolutionary romp, peppered with a dash of political provocation. And it's all over by 10pm. Hurrah!

Inspired by Monsieur Marat, I whizzed home for an early bath.

And, by the way, Rory is available.

Unhappy couple

'Well, it rattles along, doesn't it?' remarks an elderly audience member at intermission. 

And it does: Michael Boyd's extraordinary, compelling and iconoclastic new production of Macbeth (Shakespeare's shortest play) opens the renewed Royal Shakespeare Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon.

But if this is an express train, Bill the Bard has us bound headlong for Hell, as Boyd and his cast take us on a harrowing journey into the darkest regions of the human heart.

Boyd's boldest stroke is to re-imagine the 'supernatural solicitings' that so famously awaken Macbeth's dormant yearnings for ever greater status and power. To do so he (shockingly?) cuts some of the most famous scenes in the play, presenting the three 'witches' as (I'm guessing) they have never been seen before. Purists may have palpitations.

Not that the original production in the early 1600s was without its dangers: a play about the murder of a Scottish king, performed before King James I, newly arrived from Scotland to succeed the childless Elizabeth I. 

And whether you're a monarch or the man or woman on the bus, 'succession' is crucial to the well-being of everyone in the kingdom - our hopes often resting on the vulnerable shoulders of a child. And Shakespeare's on-stage children rarely see a happy ending: most die. As did his only son, Hamnet, aged 11 in 1596.

This play has more children and babies (seen and unseen) than in any of the other tragedies, their experience casting a grisly light on the consequences of the Macbeths' terrible betrayals. And it's Boyd's development of this theme that makes this show so disturbing, amply fulfilling the spirit of the text - if not the letter. 

Fine work from Jonathan Slinger and Aislin Mcguckin as the Macbeths, disintegrating before our eyes. Massive hurrahs for lighting designer Jean Kalman and composer Tom Armstrong. Designer Tom Piper sets the action in a vast space reminiscent of a crumbling, desecrated cathedral. (The new auditorium triumphantly fulfils the promise of being able to combine epic with intimate.)

The vast back wall holds a silent clue to Boyd's vision for the play: between the shattered stained glass and statuary the eye picks out a shallow space that once held the sacred building's focal point: but the cross has been removed.

Here's Charles Spencer's review for the Daily Telegraph.

Will goes to Spain...

A strange and rather wonderful experience awaits Bard buffs at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon: a Shakespeare play where you've no idea how it's going to end.

OK , for Shakespeare read 'Shakespeare'. This is an intriguing 're-imagining' of the celebrated 'lost play' Cardenio, its existence a matter of historical fact, but which never made it in to 1623 First Folio edition of the 'complete works', seemingly lost for ever.

Fast forward to 1727 and the premiere of The Double Falsehood, a crowd-pleaser from long-forgotten playwright Lewis Theobald, who (savvy marketer) claimed his work was based on original manuscripts of Cardenio (in his possession), a collaboration between Jacobean giants John Fletcher and William Shakespeare.

Oh and - add another name - the plot is drawn from Cervantes' Don Quixote, which Shakespeare could have read in Thomas Shelton's 1612 translation.

Scholars seem to agree that Theobald's text has stylistic echoes of both Shakespeare and Fletcher.

Still with me? I know, you'd be forgiven for guessing that the show on offer in Stratford must be a dryer-than-dust experiment in academic re-construction.

Wrong.

Wisely acknowledging the impossibility of recreating the 'play behind the play', director Greg Doran has approached Theobald's text with a light touch and with an imagination drenched in years of Bard-related empathy as both an actor and a director.

The result is a play that stands robustly on its own feet, providing a richly entertaining evening.

Doran and his production team clearly relish the opportunities of the Spanish setting, wreathing the action in luscious chiaroscuro and wafting it along on clouds of incense, intercut with languorous guitar music.

Good news, too, for Bardphobics: the plot is an easy-to-follow tale of love and friendship betrayed. The villain of the piece being the outrageously dreadful Don Fernando, all posturing, posing and perfect pectorals. The eponymous hero is one of his three victims.

What with nuns, a fiesta, a spunky cross-dressing heroine, the old abduction-via-coffin ruse, full-on flamenco (plus a wee bit of auto-flagellation), this is a show with something for everyone, performed with panache by a Rolls Royce cast.

For me, the ending raised some worrying questions - as to the forgiveness granted to the truly appalling Fernando.

That said, a must-see and a terrific opening to the RSC's 50th anniversary season.

Olé!
And here's what the DT's Charles Spencer had to say.

Bard intent

Continuing his (frankly unmethodical) attempt to identify 'his' sponsored brick-in-the-wall of the renewed Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Mr Gnome was more than a little thrilled to encounter Malika Booker, the RSC's poet in residence.


Billeted in the Victorian reading room adjacent to the Swan auditorium, Ms Booker invites visitors to recall vivid memories from their experiences of the Stratford theatres: sights, textures, scents, emotions, highs, lows, drama and tedium.

All of which will be grist to her poetic mill over the months ahead.

Of course, this was as Pavlovian Kennomeat to Mr G's human companion who lost no time in reliving his first RST show way back in August 1967: All's Well That Ends Well, with a cast that included the extremely young Helen Mirren.

Wise Ms Booker limited him to the space of a medium-sized PostIt.

Mr Gnome wishes Malika great success.

(Ms Booker was not expecting Mr G's appearance. Consequently he considers her perfect choice of hat colour as particularly auspicious.)

Staged

Mr Gnome - to absolutely nobody's surprise - cheers lustily for the transformed Royal Shakespeare Theatre, which opened yesterday.


Wonderful as the public areas are, the success of the transformed set-up will depend upon the new auditorium.

It couldn't be more different from what was there before.

For me, the combination joins epic and intimate.

We'll know for sure when we see King Lear and those three difficult girls having a very bad time here in February.

The vibe is good.

Meanwhile, thanks to the entire Stratford team for their welcome yesterday. Special mention to Lucy, Fiona, the video crew - and to Michael Boyd and Gregory Doran who graciously allowed a punter to interrupt their dinner to give them the benefit of his (very positive) opinions.

Tip-top Rooftop

Brick-donor, Bard boy and all-round long-term RSC booster, Mr Gnome was unable to suppress a variety of emotions yesterday on entering the transformed Royal Shakespeare Theatre as its four-year closure-for-metamorphisis comes to an end.

Accompanied by two human acolytes, Mr G was privileged to enjoy a 'preview' evening at the spanking new Rooftop Restaurant, 'helping' staff to rehearse seating and service before the opening night and the arrival of the full-on pre-show dinner rush.

His verdict? Delicious food, friendly and efficient service - and surroundings with an appropriately theatrical mixture of modern glitz set against a background of distressed brickwork and cleverly recycled elements of the 'old' theatre. For example, many will instantly recognise the old auditorium's glorious art deco marquetry doors put to stylish use in the restaurant's bars.

Hurrah!

No chance to snoop farther - the new auditorium remains out of bounds until the official opening later this month.

The vibe is good. Mr Gnome and his associates are a-tremble with anticipation of all that lies ahead. He predicts that the renewed theatre will prove to be the theatrical/architectural triumph of the year, possibly the decade.

Mr Gnome will return.

Homecoming? Gnomecoming..

After three-and-a-half years of intense labour, the Royal Shakespeare Theatre's transformation project is almost complete.

The hoardings that have surrounded the site are gone, enabling Mr G to pose shamelessly against a background of shimmering glass and many new bricks, one of which he is proud to have sponsored.

Later this week he's privileged to have been invited to 'test' (with others) the new Rooftop Restaurant, as staff check that systems are in order before the official opening later this month.

Coming home...

Mr Gnome shamelessly flaunts his invitation to one of many top-notch events celebrating the opening of the transformed Royal Shakespeare Theatre.

Closed for over three years, the riverside complex has been massively re-shaped and upgraded. Sources suggest that the gigantic project is coming in on time and on budget. No mean feat.

Better still, the buzz hints that the new spaces (public and performance) will outstrip all expectations.

Bricked up

Back in 2009 Mr Gnome did his small-scale bit for the Royal Shakespeare Theatre's hugely exciting Transformation Project. He sponsored a brick.


A year on BBC Radio Coventry and Warwickshire sent ace reporter Nicki Murphy to probe the motivation behind the brick.


Along the way, we revealed our 40+ years of Bard behaviour at Stratford, celebrated an inspiring teacher  and came close to revealing the age of the peerless Dame Helen Mirren.


And Mr Bowie made a supporting appearance...

This material is © BBC Radio Coventry and Warwickshire and is an excerpt from a programme to be aired shortly.

Hot potato

The aforementioned menu item - irresistible to humans and gnomes.

Radio daze...

Mr Gnome breezed through today's RSC-related media opportunity with BBC Radio Coventry and Warwickshire, capriciously (and predictably) leaving all the talking to his human associate.


Alerted by the Royal Shakespeare Company's press office, reporter Nicki Murphy probed the motivation behind Mr Gnome's status as (probably) the smallest and least human dedicatee of a sponsored brick, a popular element of the massive Transformation Project that is, er, transforming the Company's Stratford home to a renewed theatre space that will cause an international sensation when it opens in 2011.

Or so Mr Gnome predicts.

Broadcast goes out next week.

Nice of them to ask us. Perhaps Sir Ian and Dame Judi were busy?

Good times, Bard times...

Absent from the blogosphere for far too long, Mr Gnome returns to boost up his 'home team' - the splendidly tip-top Royal Shakespeare Company.


Pens mightier than Mr G's have reviewed the current crop of productions. Once again, the Daily Telegraph's Charles Spencer displays an almost spooky ability to channel Mr Gnome's reactions to each new offering on the stage of the Courtyard Theatre. With exceptions.

So with the stage taken care of, Mr Gnome turns his attention to that essential adjunct to any theatre - the cafe.

The Courtyard Theatre cafe, housed in the barn-like structure to the left of the main foyer, gains several robust hurrahs on Mr Gnome's scale of customer satisfaction.

This efficiently run eatery would deserve to be a top-notch Stratford attraction - even if it was not grafted on to an internationally celebrated theatre company.

Friendly, unpretentious and offering great value for money, the Courtyard cafe's relaxed ambience (free newspapers) is enhanced by the cheerful, attentive and thoughtful staff.

Mr Gnome owns up to having a bit of  a 'thing' for the coronation chicken baked potato with salad.

Not really a 'celeb spotter' himself, Mr Gnome readily acknowledges that this is a top venue for a bit of classical star gazing. Varied luminaries have wafted into his field of vision in recent months: Frances Barber, Bette Bourne and Sir Donald Sinden (puffing on cig at an outside table).

Added value?

For a resume of RSC-related blog posts, please click here.

Setting a Bard example

No stranger to the commendation 'You're a brick', Mr Gnome has impulsively turned metaphor to reality by sponsoring a 'brick in the wall' of the transformed Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon.

To be frank, Mr G's action is motivated by equal measures of charity and exasperation.

For months he's been overhearing my frequently repeated statement: 'I must get around to making a donation to the RST's Transformation project.'

Justifiably piqued by human procrastination, Mr G has taken matters into his own small but capable hands - and, voila, a brick has been laid, and a rather charming certificate issued.

And, shamed by a gnome, I have finally done the right thing and sponsored a brick on my own behalf, requesting that it be dedicated to Dom Gregory Miller, about whom more later...

Open house

A Bard time was had by all today at the splendid RSC Open Day jamboree at Stratford-upon-Avon.

Visitors not in the know may have needed shock treatment, given the on-street prevalence of so many men, women and children suffering from hideous facial scarring - and all of them smiling contentedly. Casualties (bottom right) were all, of course, courtesy of the RSC makeup department.

In past years, the town has been awash with thespian Sirs and Dames participating in the Open Day's dizzying array of activities - everything from scholarly text sessions to revelatory exposures of the intimate ministrations of the Company's small army of backstage dressers.

But this time, canny RSC executive director Vikki Heywood (top left) managed to pull off a truly star-trumping coup de theatre.

She welcomed visitors, for the very first time, to a privileged glimpse of what's going on within the Royal Shakespeare Theatre itself, currently undergoing a massive three-year transformation project.

So today I was able to stand on what will be the Company's main stage (top right) and view the auditorium that has replaced the vast 1930s theatre where I've seen dozens of performances since my first RSC show in, ahem, 1967.

And it looks to me as if Ms Heywood and her team are well on their way to making good their promise of creating a major 'theatre space' that will be simultaneously epic and intimate. The acting area is vast, but it is encompassed on three sides by a three-level 'audience space' in which everyone is remarkably close to the action.

I'm excited.

It'll be a while before the players are able to tread the renewed boards: the contractors are due to hand over the building to the Company in July 2010.

Middle row shows friendly architect Alasdair McKenzie (right) and Tim Court (project manager) on site to answer questions.

Bottom left: Open Day ended with the company director Greg Doran ruffing up the partcipants in the annual Great Shakespeare Quiz.

Romans in the gloaming

To Stratford for the second public performance of the Royal Shakespeare Company's new production of William Shakespeare's ever-popular toga-tearer Julius Caesar.

As we enter the auditorium two mud-and-blood-encrusted actors are on stage, exhaustedly stalking each other with the occasional grunt-and-grapple engagement. Then, as the play begins, one pins his rival to the floor and despatches him - with a bite to the neck. Nice.

The show is all of a piece with this initial image. Director Lucy Bailey and her design team conjure up a far-from sunny ancient Italy, where an elegant civilisation seems constantly on the brink of bloody anarchy.

The action is accompanied by a high-volume percussive soundtrack and a series of huge projected images, sadly not clearly visible from our side of the thrust stage.

That fine actor Greg Hicks, in the title role, brilliantly suggests the blinkered self-admiration that has fuelled the seemingly so-reasonable conspiracy hatched by the cool-headed Cassius (excellent John Mackay) and his fellow plotters.

Caesar's line 'Let me have men about me that are fat ... Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look; He thinks too much' will probably get laughs. Next to the spectral Hicks, the slender Mackay looks positively chubby.

I guess the play's most challenging role is that of the thoughtful, troubled Brutus (Sam Troughton, above), whose journey charts the terrifying consequences of a decision to do a bad thing for a good reason.

As Mark Antony, the well-fleshed Darren D'Silva, seizes his 'Friends, Romans and countrymen' opportunity with relish, the fickle populace duly u-turning in response to his rhetoric.

With luck, the director will rethink the distracting repertoire of stylised jerk-and-twitch movements assigned to the Roman citizenry.

Criticisms? Shouty moments (plenty of these) are punctuated by occasional passages where one wants to call, 'Speak up, lads.' With luck, these variations in dynamics will even out as the performers settle in to their roles.

Bard, birtrhday and bunny

To Stratford-upon-Avon on a breezy blue Saturday for the celebrations of William Shakespeare's 445th birthday.

Delegates from a selection of London embassies (some excitingly costumed) join theatre luminaries, local dignitaries, academics and troupes of local schoolchildren for a cheerful round-the-town parade.

Most wear a sprigs of rosemary ('that's for remembrance') and carry a posies of spring flowers, which are laid on the grave in the chancel of Holy Trinity Church - the end of the procession.

The atmosphere is celebratory, good-humoured and far from po-faced. Very English, I guess.

Later, I saw the brand-new production of As You Like It in the Courtyard Theatre.

Perhaps the show's most memorable effect came during the interval, expressive of the rustic themes of daily life in the Forest of Arden.

As the audience returned for the second half, Corin the shepherd was busily occupied skinning and butchering a freshly caught rabbit. The creature had been pre-gutted.

I felt this chimed with the production, which had suffered a few cuts of its own: some very familar chunks of the text were missing.

Fortunately, the 'Seven Ages' speech ('All the world's a stage') was spared the chop, and was performed brilliantly by the fine actor Forbes Masson (top centre).

Here's Charles Spencer's review from the Daily Telegraph.

The Winter's Tale

Can one have too much of a good thing?

The new RSC production of Shakespeare's strange and entrancing The Winter's Tale was not my first experience of the play. I've seen at least half a dozen varied stagings over the years, stretching back to the celebrated 1969 show in which Judi Dench played both the wronged queen Hermione and her 'lost' daughter Perdita.

Then, only just over two years ago, there was Dominic Cooke's daring staging in the tiny Swan Theatre, with actors and audience sharing the performance space, creating a sense of truth and immediacy, and reducing many to tears during the extraordinary twenty minutes at the end of the play.

For this production, director David Farr and his design team have had a 'big idea'. The play opens in the chilly court of King Leontes, the stage dominated by two towering, packed, bookcases. Hmm. Symbolism?

The first half of the play is almost unbearably tragic. Taken by a bolt-from-the-blue fit of jealousy, uptight Leontes (Greg Hicks) is convinced his hugely pregnant wife Hermione (Kelly Hunter) is about to give birth to the child of his best friend.

Cue a grotesque 'trial' in which the wronged wife nobly defends herself, dressed in the bloodied nightgown of her recent delivery. As the news arrives of the unexpected death of her and Leontes' first child, she falls to the ground, presumably dead.

Meanwhile, at Leontes' orders, the newborn child is being conveyed out of the kingdom and abandoned, prior to rescue by, you've guessed, a kindly shepherd.

Not surprisingly, these seemingly chaotic events take place against the background of a massive storm. At its height, the bookcases tilt giddily forward, spilling all their contents onto the stage as a violent gust of wind deposits a few reams of printed papers among the scattered volumes.

A thrillingly huge bear, made entirely of flapping sheets of paper, emerges for the unlucky baby-carrier to 'exit pursued by'. Are we getting the metaphor?

A twenty-minute interval zooms us forward by sixteen years - to the pastoral scenes in which we follow the story of Perdita, the 'lost' princess. The booky theme continues with paper trees and, most memorably, in the 'exploded book' costumes of the very rude sheepshearing dancers.

It's hard to gauge if the director intends all of the consequences of having so much paper under foot - and frequently stuck to foot. Funny at times, but I felt for the actors in the sublime final scene, speaking the verse to the accompaniment of A4 scrunching beneath shoe.

And yet, thanks to the clear, heartfelt performances of the actors, the 'concepty' staging didn't over-distract. And once again the magical, epiphanic final scene delivered its message of grace and truth with power and breath-stopping beauty.

Here's Michael Billington's review in The Guardian and, from the Telegraph, Charles Spencer's.

African tempest

To Stratford to see The Tempest in a new collaborative production between the RSC and Cape Town's Baxter Theatre Company.

Shakespeare's strange, final, most original play is set on a magical island, re-imagined here by director Janice Honeyman as an arena where a troop of spirits conjure a series of vibrant visions 'out of thin air' (yes, Bill invented the phrase) with the help of masks, puppets, pulsating music and dance.

Controlling the action is the central figure of the magus Prospero (Anthony Sher), aided by his not-quite-under-control agent, the spirit Ariel, whose 'dark' counterpart is the slave-monster Caliban (John Kani).

The relationship between these three seems to be the special focus of this production. And with Prospero as the only white member of the trio, the master/servant dynamic has a troubling, spiky resonance.

Ariel and Caliban seem to embody profound aspects of Prospero's sense of himself.

Ariel is mobile, mercurial, lithe and untouchable, straining for his freedom.

Caliban, playing firmly against Prospero's descriptions of him, is montrous only in the eyes of his 'master'. Kani, grey-haired and walking with two sticks, has a gravitas and dignity of Mandela proprtions. It's a bold idea.

Much to relish in this vivid, exciting and clearly spoken production.

Top marks to Anthony Sher for sheer vocal power and authority. He doesn't just speak the verse, he breathes it. And that's what makes it live.

After completing this post, I read Charles Spencer's notice in the Telegraph - and found it helpful and enlightening.

Ditto regarding this interview with John Kani.

Progress

Mr Gnome cheered himself today by inspecting the 'transformation' project at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon.

The new thrust-stage auditorium is in place, as is the framework for the public areas that will link the main theatre with the smaller Swan auditorium.

And the core of the controversial 'viewing tower' is up. We're reserving judgement (on the tower) until all is complete.

Meanwhile a new company of actors is gathering to open the 2009 season in the temporary Courtyard Theater up the street. They are on long-term contract and will stay in town to open the renewed theatre in 2010.

One is excited.