First Trip to the National Theatre

A light shining in London...a view of the city

 “The theatre is irresistible; organise the theatre” was the battle cry of the big dreamers who first began clamoring for a National Theatre in Britain. Today, their vision lies on the South Bank of the Thames, a beautiful example of an organized effort to establish theatre year round.*

Through various financial, political, and managerial dilemmas, plus two world wars that pushed the pause button on their efforts, the National Theatre Company under Laurence Olivier was created before an official building was established for them to perform in.* My favorite Shakespeare play, Hamlet, was the first play the National Theatre Company performed; they put it on at the Old Vic in October 1963. Despite the difficulties, in 1976 the Company moved in to the Denys Lasdun’s National Theatre building. Thanks to this monumental point in theatre history, the National Theatre has produced over 800 plays since, putting on 1,000 performances each year.^ǂ

Friday night, we saw Caryl Churchill’s A Light Shining in Buckinghamshire for our first play at the National. The play used the English Civil War and the debates of citizens’ rights as a springboard for a wider discussion of religion and the relationship between God and worshipers. The subject matter was a little dense and slow, involving long courtroom scenes and several narrative speeches telling the audience what happened rather than performing it. The stage work, however, blew my non-theatre major mind. Although this play was admittedly not one of my favorites, I have never had as many jaw-dropping moments as I did during this one. A huge dining room table filled the stage, onto which actors climbed to act out their parts and give their speeches. Then, when the Civil War began and the new Cromwell government took over, the various actors took apart the dining room table to reveal dirt underneath. Maybe that sentence isn’t as exciting to read, but I promise, the moment they pulled out shovels and actually cracked into the hardwood of the surface to pull it up, I had to pinch myself. At the close of the show, they triggered water to fall on the actors as crashes of thunder echoed overhead.

Churchill’s play was difficult to understand because of its very dry, fragmented form of presentation. Unlike another play we watched this week called The Father that also utilized confusion and broken scenes, A Light Shining’s methodology made the play less accessible and therefore made less of an impact on me personally. It played much more to the cerebral aspect than that of entertainment. That being said, when considering what the National’s goals are, this play does not disappoint.

When the first committee began organizing its efforts for a national theatre in 1909, one of their six primary goals was “to produce new plays and to further the development of the modern drama.”* Now, the National follows a similar ideal: to reach wider audiences, “representing the widest range of voices,” and to “present an eclectic mix of new plays and classics.”^ǂ This is all done in an effort to maintain a strong sense of theatre appreciation and culture for all of Britain.

Churchill’s play in that sense lives up to the National’s goals. Through the debates of characters on stage over the true essence of what God is—whether he was a judgmental, distant being or merely the goodness in each person—the actors and the audience were allowed to engage with conflicting ideas. As offensive as that can potentially be (I felt the need to squirt soap in my ears after one monologue that combined scripture preaching and curse words), it creates an environment of progress and innovation—which I believe is key to the success of liberal arts. Churchill aimed high with her ambitious subject matter, but whether it succeeded or not was not really the point. The point is that the National does not just put on one type of performance; it seeks a wide range and allows free expression of avant-garde style material. This play undoubtedly set many precedents, both in stage performance and in bold language, which further emphasizes the importance of a central theatre that reflects the changing, tumultuous world we live in.

(PS, we need an American National Theatre. If you walk away from this post with anything, that is what I hope you get.)

* means that this information was drawn from Richard Findlater’s 1977 “The Winding Road to King’s Reach” article, found at http://www.nationaltheatre.org.uk/discover-more/welcome-to-the-national-theatre/the-history-of-the-national-theatre/the-winding-road

^ǂ means that this information was from the National’s website information, on the tab “About the National Theatre,” found at http://www.nationaltheatre.org.uk/discover-more/welcome-to-the-national-theatre/about-the-national-theatre

 

Heaven on Earth (AKA the Globe Theatre)

(Disclaimer: This is a long literary post—skim if you don’t feel like putting on an English major hat for the next 15 minutes)

Today, I got to be a Venetian. We attended Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice at the Globe Theatre. The space itself is a studious reproduction of the original that simulates the same building materials and general theatre-going experience of the days of old. Even better, we got to stand in the Yard for the performance, just as the groundlings used to do. It was one hundred percent the best theatre experience of my life. Sore feet and limited elbow room are nothing compared to the incredible relationship an audience member in the Yard has with the actors on stage. The performers interacted directly with us:  they walked through the audience, sat on the edge of the stage, spoke directly to individuals out in the crowd, and made us feel as though we were not visitors in London, UK, in 2015, but a group of street people in Venice during the 1600s.

Besides the total immersion of the viewing experience, seeing the play performed took my understanding of its meaning to a whole new level. The anti-Semitic content makes it a controversial one, but Jonathan Pryce’s performance as the Jew Shylock turned a potentially offensive role into one that struck an important nerve for today’s society—religion. With Shylock attempting to extract a strange punishment for an unpaid debt from Antonio by refusing to take money but instead seeking “a pound of flesh” from nearest Antonio’s heart, Pryce’s character is certainly a villain in some respects. However, the directors of this play did an excellent job of balancing this villainy with the source of Shylock’s aggression—the discrimination he has experienced as an “alien” and outcast in Venetian society. The physical pain that he suffers was apparent on his face, and we were so close that I could see his hands shaking as he tried to pry Antonio’s hands loose when Antonio gripped his face in the most demeaning way possible to embarrass him in an argument. The globs of spit that landed on Shylock every time he was around a group of “Christians” were real—we could see them oozing down his coat. Being in the Yard had another effect in the way it made the audience part of the action; it felt as if we were part of the mob surrounding and encouraging the complete degradation of another human being.

Pryce’s emotional distress was clearly evident in his monologue—“Has a Jew not eyes”—in which he heartbreakingly compares the way that he and the Christians are all fundamentally human, yet he is treated so differently. However, the most gut-wrenching moment of today was one that was not included in Shakespeare’s original—a new epilogue with a final, forced conversion scene of Shylock from a Jew to a Christian. After having outwitted Shylock in court, Portia (disguised as a male lawyer to fix the situation for Antonio) delivers Shylock’s fate into the hands of Antonio and the Duke. These two spare Shylock’s life on the condition that he give some of his money to his daughter who has eloped with one of their friends, but more importantly, Antonio demands that Shylock become a Christian. The cry of anguish that comes out of Pryce could not be any more torturous if he had actually been stabbed. His red hat that marked him as a Jew is then ripped off and thrown on the ground, and he is physically prevented from retrieving it. In Shakespeare’s original, after Shylock crawls off in defeat, a happy, celebratory scene wraps up the play with the two couples’ successful reunions after the trial. The version we saw today, however, counteracted that seemingly cavalier attitude towards Shylock’s demise by having several members of the cast come out dressed in white, with Shylock following. He was then forced to go through the ceremony of baptism to complete his conversion. During this scene, he kept his eyes away from the audience or anyone else on stage, which was a marked contrast to the way that he had used the audience as part of his performance previously, directly addressing them as part of the court or with his asides to let us know his true feelings about a scene. When they poured the final cup of water over his head, his eyes were squeezed shut and his lips were trembling as he looked up towards the sky, and a single, ominous gong closed the play. Although I am hardly ever a fan of adding entire scenes to a classic, I felt this was a much needed addition for a modern audience. Shakespeare’s original could be interpreted not as condoning anti-Semitism but merely as commenting on it, but the end is too happy—after having shown no mercy to Shylock, the happy Christians merrily enjoy their lovers’ rewards. Thus, the audience is too busy laughing at Nerissa and Gratiano to consider the complex layers of guilt and hypocrisy in the play. Considering the immense suffering of the Jews that has taken place throughout history, it would be unthinkable to ignore the fact that this is a 21st century audience that wants to see acknowledgment of the glaring injustice of Jewish treatment. With the new addition, the ending with Shylock’s conversion is sobering; it left me with a puddle of tears threatening to spill out.

This dynamite acting performance by Pryce was not overdone; he pulled off the role of a broken, angry man trying to maintain what little dignity he had left very well. In my opinion, the interpretation of Shylock was very similar to Al Pacino’s. Both manage to portray Shylock as a sympathetic villain—which seems much more true to life than anything else. In our world, the line between black and white is not so clear cut, and neither is the guilt in The Merchant of Venice. After experiencing this play, I found it both interesting and depressing to consider the ostracizing effects that religion continues to have on us in the 21^st century.

In an interview with The Guardian, Pryce explained the complexity of playing the role perfectly:  “Shylock tries to get his revenge, sure, but Antonio and the Christians, I think they’re monsters – these Bullingdon Club types who’ve persecuted him for years, spat on him, kicked him. And suddenly they need him.” (http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2015/apr/26/jonathan-pryce-interview-shylock-merchant-of-venice-shakespeares-globe). Even this master actor found playing the role of Shylock to be a foreboding task.

Overall, my first time at the Globe has already been the highlight of my trip; it will certainly be hard to beat. Even though I am a proud English major, I have started to learn that there is so much more to be gleaned from a play when watching it performed than merely reading it. Each character was brought to life in a unique way, and though I ended the play in tears, in other scenes the actors produced golden nuggets of humor I missed while reading that when performed had me belly-laughing like Santa. To wrap up this incredibly long but hopefully not too boring post, The Merchant of Venice put me through the whole range of emotions—and it was worth it.

A Scavenger Hunt, A Selfie Stick, and an Oyster Card

Navigating the London Underground is the quintessential initiation test for any tourist. It seems confusing at first, but once you get the hang of it, it’s easy to feel like a pro. Thanks to the Oyster Card, which lets you just scan and get on any underground Tube you want (cue the music for “I’ve got a golden ticket”), there’s no fuss about paying or trying to figure out what kind of ticket you want. However, I learned it is pretty key to swipe that thing fast—Tube people know where they are going, and they are going there fast.

It was our mission to find three key landmarks for the day—the National Theatre, the London Eye, and the Globe Theatre, all using the  Tube system to get around and get back. This taught me two important lessons about getting around London. One, my classmates are very smart; in my directionally challenged world, it was the first time that being a “follower” was not a bad thing. They learned how to read the maps within a few trips and before no time we were fitting right in (almost) with the regular clientele. Second, the Tube system is incredibly efficient. I am sold on never driving a car again; we got around large areas of London in short time.

Here are some photos from our experience, which were made much easier using our selfie stick, though it unfortunately died halfway through the experience.

The National Theatre:

 

 We will be seeing a play called Everyman at the National Theatre on our trip, so the bottom two pictures are playing around with the poster art for the play. The original version of this play was a midieval morality play, but the one we will be seeing at the National is a modern interpretation, which will make for one interesting cross-over; I'm very excited to see how it is done.

 The London Eye:

 The London Eye is spectacular. We did not ride it today, but the area around it was a wonderful experience. The Globe is about a fifteen minute walk from the Eye down the River Thames, and there are street performers, giant bubble blowers, food trucks, and people galore. We also got to enjoy some perfect spring weather, which was a wonderful asset for our first sightseeing day.

The Globe Theatre:

 

The original Shakespeare's Globe burned down, so this is a reconstruction, but it is still amazing to see what Shakespeare's plays would have been performed in. We will be seeing two of his plays here this month: As You Like It and The Merchant of Venice. 

And that was our trip! Before ending, I want to leave you with an interesting anecdote about my London Tube experience—I saw British vernacular at its finest. After a very long day of walking, our final trip down the tube was the most interesting. A beef-cake of a gentleman was taking up three spaces on a very crowded car—he had his backpack in one seat beside him and his coat in another. The rest of us had to stand up so that these fine articles of clothing had some space to ride, and none of us were brave enough to say anything. Until, that is, a middle-aged firecracker of a British woman got on and let him have it. Among many colorful things, she actually called him a “wanker” and used the word “bloody.” After that, she not-so-calmly explained to him that she had in fact paid for a seat, while his backpack had not, and therefore it was extremely rude of him to object when she moved it so that she could sit down. The showdown lasted the next two stops as Mr. Beefcake demanded that she use the word please, but he got off first and the victory definitely went to our dear spunky lady. Cheers to her.