The Immortality of Garrick

The Immortality of Garrick
David Garrick, the eighteenth-century actor, playwright, and theater manager often credited with Shakespeare's 18th-century revival, is here lauded by a group of 17 actors in their favorite Shakespearean characters, as he is carried to his apotheosis

Thursday, May 10, 2012

POEMS OF A STARVING PLAYWRIGHT: METATHEATRICAL METAPHORICAL MUSINGS


PROLOGUE
TO
HAMLET
To change, or not to change – that is the question:
Whether ‘tis more impressive in the community to adapt
The works and plays of original masterminds
Or to take risks against a sea of Critics
And by creating something new end them.  To be, to dream –
No more – and by a dream to say we write
The new, and the thousand inspirational muses
That the heart is slave to.  ‘Tis applause
Secretly to be wished.  To be, to dream –
To dream – perchance to express: ay, there’s the rub,
For in that creation of expression what words may come
When we have changed what was known,
Must give us pause.  There’s the fear
That makes writer’s block of so long a struggle.
For who would face the abuses and offenses of criticism,
-Touch immortal Shakespeare or try his amateur hand-
Th’ audience’s booing, the critics’ comparisons
The disappointment of rejected writing, and the judgment
That indoctrinated society of th’ amateurs believes,
When they themselves might his play enjoy
With a distinguished signature?  Who would criticism undergo,
To be shamed and ridiculed under a futile attempt,
But that the dread of rejection after production,
The spontaneous expression, from whose bravery
No writer ignores, conjectures the controversy,
And makes us rather worship those works we recognize
Than acknowledge others that we know not of?
Thus celebrity worship does make cowards of us all,
And thus the bold face of creation
Is tided o’er with the natural comfort of stagnation,
And belief in tradition and legacy
With this respect the writers cease writing
And lose the name of artist.

An excerpt from METATHEATRICAL METAPHORICAL MUSINGS
The theater, the midnight sky
plays inspired by constellations and shooting stars,
galaxies and the Big Dipper.
The actors, the fireworks and night lights
so much practice and preparation
in anticipation of the big showing, the night to shine.
Waiting for the cue of the director
to perform their parts,
each explosion of sound and light more forgettable and unremarkable than the next.
Each actor’s dramatic soliloquy
an infinitesimal moment to make a lasting impression.
A self-sacrificing act, it ultimately ends in silence – nothing.

Monday, May 7, 2012

Analyzing Hamlet



        I want to write a bit more about Hamlet, since I feel as though I have somewhat ignored this play in comparison to the others. More particularly, I want to take a closer look at Hamlet’s relationship with the main or key female figures of the play, the Queen of Denmark (Gertrude) and Polonius’s daughter, Ophelia.

       At the start of the play, the Ghost presents Hamlet with the information that his mother has married his father's murderer (his father's own brother). This information provides an internal conflict for Hamlet, as he sees his mother from both the loving son and the loving husband’s point of view (since he carries out his father’s reaction), in addition to seeing her as a betrayer. In other words, Hamlet sees his mother as both a loved and loathed woman that resides inside one body; her quick marriage to his uncle obviously fuels this loathing for her. Just as he cannot separate his mother from Ophelia, he is unable to separate the mother he loves from the mother he loathes.

       What's interesting is to analyze Hamlet's actions and treatment towards women throughout the play. For instance, it appears that Hamlet is unable to separate Ophelia from his mother (the Queen). In the play, he accuses Ophelia of possessing the same treacherous nature as his mother. This sense of blame and rejection seemingly comes from the simple fact that she’s female. Not only is he disappointed in his mother for quickly marrying his father’s killer, he denies Ophelia—a woman he once claimed to love. His denial of her truth reminds me of Lear’s rejection of Cordelia’s honesty and Leontes’ denial of Hermione’s innocence (her transparent language). In general, we have seen, throughout Shakespeare’s plays (and through the words of these men), the major male leads’ distrust of women. On the mythic plane, Hamlet ultimately destroys Ophelia as he desperately attempts, in the real plane/realm, to sever his ties to her. Furthermore, the Ghost’s information has seemingly driven a type of madness in Hamlet. Eventually, he sees his beloved mother as actually a remorseless Queen, and comes to view Ophelia in a similar light. This madness is also induced by his need to kill the new king, his uncle (King Claudius). At various times in the play, Hamlet seems to contemplate his own death and even suicide. And unfortunately for Cordelia, her madness seems to spur out of Hamlet’s mistreatment of her.

       Unlike Hamlet’s end, Cordelia’s death seems to be that of suicide. Ophelia herself seems to represent human frailty. Her cut and wilting flowers symbolize her helplessness (all of which is conveyed through song, seen drowning around her, or placed on her grave). Similar to King Lear, what we have in this tragedy is the idea of human cost—the currency of what the heart is forced to pay. Overall, it’s interesting to see how lies, mistrust, and doubt, operate within Shakespeare’s plays, in addition to what these things say about humanity (or how they elevate or tear down humanity). 

Final Project - Story for Mamillius



Friday, May 4, 2012

Final Project--To Poetically re-imagine Shakespeare plays and particular scenes.


Thorned King
Through entangled crowned hairs and blazing light
Through a thousand hells
He led her to her endless plight,
or so the story tells.

A flattered public display he preferred
Over Cordelia’s ‘nothing’ so pure
Abandoning the truth that she lent
To fire, it he sent.

But for a demand speech of reassurance, the price is great,
Soon they’d prick and thorn his life to darken his days
For loving the unloving delivers an unfortunate state
And after the battle, in the ground they lay
remembering nothing…

Life, for him, the price of momentary fame,
Brought fractured hearts to what was just a double-talk game

Eventually, he recalled what he forgot
But still more evil came, more pain wrought.
All the good he once sought,
All his work came to not.  

At the end, he looked at her lips, asking to deliver something so vibrant
Never recalling that she said to “Love, and be silent.”

Author’s Note: I attempted to transform particular plays and scenes into poems. The theme for this poem is that love makes no speaking sound. This poem serves to encapsulate the story of King Lear, emphasizing the consequences of his love test. For some of my poems, I included a few images in order to help with this mental visualization. 
 ------



Unmade
Similar to the smell of water,
She is nature rather than art
And is weathered silent on this frozen ground
but still dazzles you so.
Something born, made, recreated?
As something that arrived too late for words
It moves you slowly toward the gray, cloudy footage that memory preserves
Echoing now as a confusing imitation

Within this stone
There is something brilliant suffused inside
The gaze is still
But there is no place she does not see you.
Like a fantasy that plays upon our sight
Seducing you at every moment
Tricking your focused eye
A work trapped in the almost,
Looking for movement and for words

If squeezed hard enough,
she will emerge like a pit from a dried up plum
still audible to you.

A burst, a shatter
A cracking of that outer crust of rock
Breaking the heavy fossil layers that borders
A deeper heartbeat repeating, move, move
Following the music of her conductor,
Senses now replacing the empty air
Words fluent on her lips.

Author’s Note: In this poem I attempt to re-imagine the scene of Hermione’s statue (how the statue serves to suspend our disbelief), while at the same time positioning her character as it relates to her husband, King Leontes. The statue serves to puzzle us, and I try to capture this unsure/ambiguous moment from both the character’s perspective (Leontes) and the audience’s (Is she moving or not? Has she been living this whole time or restored/resurrected? How is this statue tricking our senses?).  The poem also focuses on how language (language as it relates to knowledge and being “real” or human) or oral exchange is an important theme in the play. Moreover, in this poem, I attempt to recreate the scene of when she’s attempting to come back to life. At the end of the poem, she is a “nature’s art” realized.
-----



The Storyteller

On a wintery night outside of time,
Sitting like two innocent lovers
Upstairs, the boy begins a paper-filled sad tale
Next to the rain-stained window

He tenderly steals his mother’s warmth
encircling them are envious crickets
wishing to hear about the man dwelling in a churchyard,
wanting to be frightened by fantastical sprites.

On his mother’s lap he intently whispers to her
all of the best secrets to a winter’s tale
but the fantasy of whispering will overwhelm
a suspicious husband, a jealous king

Giving in to the mind's flat-noted chorus and
with a center long iced over
He rips them like a paper in two

The boy did not complete the season,
his story of ripe bitter melons and green caterpillars
resting underneath the leaves
of pearl pumping seas
of a love discovered
was a story untold, unsatisfied.


But perhaps it’s an unscheduled tale that breathes in the absence of words,
is restored, surviving in the nameless space that is our imagination
The fresh unknown stopping to let us board
Inviting us to toss whatever we have in our minds' pockets
Just a patch of frozen water,
waiting to melt.

Will the story be to find what is missing?

Author’s Note: In this poem, I attempt to create the scene of Mamillius and his mother in The Winter’s Tale. In short, I attempt to show how the act of whispering, in addition to the visual or theatrical display of heartful bodies touching, may upset (or trigger) a jealous husband. Furthermore, the main point of this poem is to think back to how Shakespeare uses absence or offstage events. Ultimately, what this poem is saying (even though I shouldn’t say it myself as it undermines my poem’s point) is that it’s better to let the audience imagine the story themselves---to fill in the blanks all on their own (a story found). I added details to the story by including caterpillars, bitter melons, and so forth, to hint at how my mind would re-imagine Mamillius’ story. Overall, I also hope that readers’ begin asking themselves, “Is what’s sad about Mamillius’ story lies in the fact that he never got to finish it?” 

Jessica's Final Project

Ophelia's Death: Suicide or Homicide?



Gerri's Final Project


Michelle Dinh's Final Project

Here's the first four pages from my children's fairy tale version of King Lear. Sorry I could not include the pictures.
 
Page 1
Once upon a time there was a kingdom of magical fruits under the rule of King Pear. King Pear was getting old and he wanted to retire. King Pear had to divide his land into three because he had three daughters. King Pear did not know how much he should give each of his daughters, so he made up a test for them. They each had to tell him how much they love him. The more love they show, the more land they will get.

Page 2
King Pear called his oldest daughter, Princess Grapefruit to speak first.
            “Your Majesty, my love for you is deeper than the chocolate ground and higher than the cotton candy sky,” said Princess Grapefruit.
            “That’s very smart, Princess Grapefruit. I will give you everything from the left edge of the kingdom to the mint forest,” said King Pear.
Princess Grapefruit hurried to tell her husband, Prince Watermelon her good news.

Page 3
Then King Pear called his second daughter, Princess Orange to speak next.
            “Father, I love you more than peanut butter loves jelly and strawberry loves banana,” said Princess Orange.
“That’s very sweet, Princess Orange. I will give you everything from the right edge of the kingdom to the lemonade river.
Princess Orange rushed off to tell her husband, Prince Apple her good news.

Page 4
Finally King Pear called his youngest daughter and his favorite, Princess Tangerine to speak.
            “Daddy, I have nothing to say,” said Princess Tangerine.
            “How can you have nothing to say? If you don’t say anything you will get nothing,” said King Pear.
            “I cannot compare my love to anything like my sisters did,” said Princess Tangerine.
            “I was going to give you everything in between the mint forest and the lemonade river,” said King Pear.
            “I know I love you. I love you as any girl loves her daddy. When I get married I will still love you, but I will also love Prince Mango just as much,” said Princess Tangerine.
            “No, that is not good enough! You will get nothing. Go marry Prince Mango and leave the kingdom,” said King Pear.
            “Yes, sir,” said Princess Tangerine.
            “Your Highness, you should not do this,” said Cherry, the court jester.
            “Be quiet or I will banish you too!” said King Pear.

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Jasmine and Lauren's Creative Project! Hamlet, A First Folio

Hi guys!

I thought it would be a good idea to post my creative project now and get it out of the way (: What you see here is my part of a creative project that I'm working on with Lauren K (minus the quarto part, we'll be finishing that shortly). Since I'm computer illiterate and can't figure out how to attach the PDF to my post, I've just copied it directly in. Enjoy!



The Mother Goose-ification of Hamlet

By Jasmine Foo
Adapted from William Shakespeare’s Hamlet

  
I tell you that all their battering can’t deface my beauties, nor their wise pratings equal my wiser prattling; and all imitators of my refreshing songs might as well write a new Billy Shakespeare as another Mother Goose- we two poets were born together, and we shall go out of the world together.

No, no my Melodies will never die,
While nurses sing, or babies cry.

-Mother Goose



An Introduction

Let us wade through the ‘Once-upon-a-time’s
Read by parents while saying good night-
To the fairies and mermaids we will wave goodbye
As we leave these tales with a tear in our eye,
And look forward to stories wrapped up quite neatly-
Not in storybook form, but still done rather sweetly.
I speak of the ones that can be read in a flash;
They rhyme and have rhythm and are not at all rash.

Let us go to these poems, from a fair-feathered friend,
Whose characters and stories we all greatly commend.
And take from another, who is extremely renowned;
Those who read his works find him rather profound.

While most would ponder at the mixture of these two,
I humbly ask that you see the story through-
Shakespeare is here, I can promise you that.
But you’ll only see him if you first give it a chance.

If we were to think about the stories of our youth
One would find that there is inexplicable truth
Found in the words of dear Mother Goose
Though, while silly, did wisdom produce.

----

There once were two good fellows
Who owned two very grand cellos.
Named in our tale as MarCat and BerFiddle,
They found themselves in a troublesome diddle.

Striding the top of the castle one night
They saw a spectre that put their wits to flight:
The dead king in good form,
Yet opaque enough to look out of the norm.

Our tale continues with the calling of
Little Boy Horatio, who said:



“It’s Prince Hamlet who must see this apparition
If only he weren’t right now playing badminton!”

As the following morning dawned bright and true,
King ClauDish set about to knock the truth askew.
“The death of King Hamlet deserves a tribute-
And that is why I’m marrying Queen GerSpoon!”

Queen GerSpoon smiled and let out a wave;
The courtiers, enchanted, let out a hooray-
All except one.

Prince Hamlet Black Sheep stood glaring in a corner,
While the court discussed Denmark’s borders.
When the queen and the king and the court left the room,
Hamlet’s suicide rant let off a discernible gloom.

While Hamlet ranted about death and despair,
Little Boy Horatio came in without any fanfare.
“My angelic prince,” he cried, “Please don’t delay!”
“We saw your dead father at 3 a.m. on Tuesday!”

“What now?” cried Black Sheep, drawn out of his reverie,
“My good father, dead, seen at the top of tower thirteen?”
He let out a roar, and proclaimed straightaway,
“There’s something amiss; I must investigate!”

And as Prince Black Sheep walked away,
Little Boy Horatio whispered:
“Yes, there’s something amiss in the state of Denmark.”

Meanwhile, Leartes be Nimble was saying goodbye
To Little Bophelia, with Father Humpty Dumpty Polonius nearby.
“Bophelia,” he warned, “Please try to behave.
Don’t fall for Prince Hamlet while I am away.”

Humpty Dumpty Polonius tried to give knowledge
To his son of how to survive in college.
He then turned to his daughter and sternly told her
Not a word of love to Hamlet could she utter.

“I will obey,” said Little Bophelia.
“I will obey.”

That night, Prince Hamlet Black Sheep saw his dead father
Who went on to tell him of his unnatural slaughter.
“My son,” the king said, ‘you have been deceived.”
“Your newlywed uncle has killed me for greed.”

Then the cock crowed and the sun came up as it must,
And the ghost of King Hamlet disappeared into the dust.
“My father,” Black Sheep vowed, “Do not dismay!”
“I will avenge; from this promise I will not sway!”

The next day, Little Bophelia rushed to her father in despair.
“The lord Hamlet,” she cried, “seems to be losing his hair!”
“Just today I passed by him while he was yanking it off;
He grabbed me, bleated mournfully, and went off without a cough.”

Humpty Dumpty Polonius rushed to the throne room
Where RosenJack and GuildenJill were introduced by the broom.
“King ClauDish!” he cried, “Hamlet’s source of madness is now revealed;
It is love for my daughter that he feels!”

“How now!” cried ClauDish, “I must know if it’s true!”
“RosenJack! GuildenJill! Haunt Hamlet and find something new.”
The two of them bowed and promised to obey;
they left the room and found Hamlet astray.

“My lord!” they both cried, “It is so good to see you!”
Of their second agenda, Black Sheep was sure that he knew.
And thus, the questions could barely leave their lips
As Hamlet spun word games that left them speechless.

RosenJack and GuildenJill told Hamlet of the approaching players;
And the players came forward, acting like mayors.
“My players!” Hamlet cried, “Today I don’t need mayors,
But rather something akin to a slayer.”

Then Black Sheep discussed his plan rather moodily;
And the eager players agreed to do it quite crudely.
They put the play on and shocked the pants off the king,
Who thought, “Oh my goodness! Someone’s on to me!”

However, the king had been closely watching the prince
And decided that something was easily amiss.
Between the “To be’s” and the ‘To a nunnery with you!”
He sensed there was some sanity in the words that rang true.

Troubled, the king talked to ‘Jack and ‘Jill
And told them make haste to England.
“Bring the poor Prince-to-be unfettered;
Maybe that will make him feel better.”

When the pair left the room, ClauDish thought himself alone;
He fell to his knees, feeling the need to atone.
And while he prayed by himself and made up excuses,
The Prince Black Sheep crept in, ready to deliver abuses.

But he soon decided that now was not the right time
To kill Uncle ClauDish for his terrible crime.
Black Sheep mused, “To kill him now would send him to heaven!
That is not revenge- ClauDish must remain unforgiven.”

At this same time, Queen GerSpoon and Humpty were conspiring
To find the reason why Hamlet had become so unadmiring.
“You lure him in, GerSpoon, and talk to him freely.

I’ll be behind this arras, so call if you need me.”


Our Black Sheep waltzed in, quite suspectful of Queenie;
They yelled at each other and acted quite obscenely.
Polonius cried out, “Don’t worry, I’ll save you!”
And Hamlet cried as he stabbed through the arras: “I bid you adieu!”

It was easily seen
That all the king’s horses
And all the king’s men
Weren’t able to put Polonius together again.

Hamlet was thus escorted by ‘Jack and ‘Jill
To England, where he was to be killed.
But the letter that sentenced dear Black Sheep to death,
Was taken and rewritten all in one breath.

This is how the story goes:
RosenJack and GuildenJill went up the hill
To fetch a Black Sheep who was 'mentally ill’.
But the cost was too much,
And the pair did rush:
‘Jack fell down and broke his dear crown,
And ‘Jill came soon tumbling after.

While Hamlet was gallivanting across the high seas,
Little Bophelia was fighting for her sanity.
For she had lost her father and brother and dear Black Sheep;
And couldn’t tell where to find them.


Her mind was falling fast asleep,
While around the halls of Elsinore did she creep.
And she sang:

“There was a mad man,
And he had a mad wife,
And they lived all in a mad lane!
They had three children all at a birth,
And they too were mad every one.
The father was mad,
The mother was mad,
The children all mad beside;
And upon a mad horse they all of them got,
And madly away did ride.”

So Hamlet hitched a ride back
And found his dear ‘Phelia dead.
“She went bonkers, insane!” everyone claimed.
“After her father she was never the same.”

Laertes Be Nimble came back to Elsinore
To avenge his father with a great big roar.
“My father and sister, dead and gone!
Hamlet’s to blame! I’m gonna mow his lawn!”

“Don’t beat him just yet!” King ClauDish said hastily.
“How about we poison him? He’ll find it tasty.”
Laertes thought hard and finally agreed.
“We’ll poison him thoroughly!” ‘Be Nimble decreed.

“Not only the drink, but the sword as well!
I have a fancy poison from France that will work swell.”
They both shook hands and settled on the morrow;
Nobody could predict all the soon coming sorrow.

The next day came and the fight was announced.
Lil’ Boy Horatio said, “I’m not too sure of this joust.
I have a bad feeling. It rings a bad bell.”
But Hamlet assured him, “If I need you, I’ll yell.”

When Black Sheep strode in, his opponent stood waiting.
Someone shouted “Go!” and then they were scraping.
A One hit a Two hit a Three hit a Four!
Just one more will do, just one more to score.

A tap on the shoulder, and Laertes fell.
“A drink to Hamlet,” cried the king, meaning not well.
But Hamlet refused, and Queen GerSpoon was thirsty.
“Just a drink from the goblet!” she cried out quite blithely.

Another round came just as fast as the first,
And ended with Hamlet again without thirst.
Laertes, enraged, jumped to stab the sheep’s wool
Only to find himself used as a tool.

The two boys wrestled, and the swords were switched.
Laertes be nimble, Laertes be quick.
But this time he’s not jumping over a candlestick.
Too slow was he, and he ended up stabbed.

Realizing his error, at Hamlet he grabbed.


“I’m poison, I’m poisoned!” cried Laertes Be Nimble.
“Queen GerSpoon is too, now were all in a diddle!”
GerSpoon gasped, and fell down with a clatter.
Laertes fell too, and make such a big splatter.

In this story, the Dish did run away with the Spoon,
But in the end the Spoon’s life was ended by noon,
And the Dish was cracked beyond any repair:
Stabbed and poisoned through, was this dishware.

And then Hamlet Black Sheep gave a cry of despair.
“I’m finished! I’m done!” he shouted up in the air.
“I’m joining Bophelia up in the stars; oh my!
This is it. Now I die, die, die, die!”

This Hamlet Black Sheep had a lot of wool,
Yes he did; he had three bags full.
Unfortunately these bags did him no good.
And that is why Black Sheep ended up dead too.

The only person left was Little Boy Horatio.
The black sheep was dead in the meadow,
But Horatio wasn’t to blame.
Still he mournfully thought, “Is this the way you mind your sheep,
Under the haycock fast asleep?”
With this mindset in place,
He tried to reconcile by helping Hamlet to fame.

Horatio told the world the story
Of the woeful times in Elsinore.
He mentioned the events that divided family more,
And ultimately created a family war.
For there were two brothers who shared the same queen-
Being both son and nephew, Black Sheep felt the need to intervene.
He spoke of the supposed glory and fame-
And the dysfunctional family that could not keep sane.





-----

An Author’s Note:


Mother Goose has always played an integral part in my childhood memories. I always remember her nursery rhymes alongside the colorful children’s books written by Richard Scarry and Dr. Seuss, other prime contributors to my reading at a younger age. Nursery rhymes appeal not only to children, but to adults as well- the simple cadence of words are both easy to understand and interesting to listen to. Nursery rhymes tell us stories that engage our ears and our minds. What better medium for something like Hamlet, which is one of Shakespeare’s longest plays? Most people think of his works as complicated and hard to read- I can only hope that I’ve helped to change that a little in an entertaining manner.

And one more thing- I found the most perfect Mother Goose rhyme to fit in as Ophelia’s song (found on page 7). I couldn’t bring myself to change anything about it, as I felt that no change was needed. The rhyme can be found here: