Welcome to the Hamlet Blog, a list of all things Hamlet to inspire and inform our cast, crew, and audience.

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

In the shadows of giants...

While in a production meeting this morning at College of Charleston, I spotted this poster from many years ago:  "Amadeus" directed by my former acting professor R. Scott Lank with sets by my first theatre teacher in high school Ike Stoneberger. Two men that I greatly respect were having similar conversations in these same hallways. I suddenly felt like a kid again -- and more like an adult.
 
In theatre, we are often asked to follow in the footsteps of others. An audience will compare tonight's performance to past productions in that same theatre or by that same company or college. And because many plays get produced time and time again, many audience members go in having seen another production of that play or, god forbid, the movie. Any production of a play in the canon such as "Death of a Salesman" or "Our Town" carries some baggage, from audience preconceptions to theatrical precedents, not to mention the fact that these plays are heralded as "masterpieces" and so they'd better be good. 
 
Perhaps no play carries with it more baggage than "Hamlet." It is THE masterpiece by THE master playwright. We have seen pictures or heard stories of everyone from Richard Burbage to Edwin Booth to Laurence Olivier to John Gielgud to Daniel Day Lewis to Keanu Reeves playing the lead. More books and essays have been written about the play than one could read in a lifetime. Whenever I tell people that I'm directing "Hamlet," their eyes get big. An old mentor of mine gave me a stack of books to read as research. A director friend gave me another stack. Cultural analyses, annotated texts, studies of great productions. This is big stuff. The stuff of greats. Don't screw it up.
 
So. How to begin? I sat with the play for many months and got nowhere, daunted by preconceived notions of nearly every moment. Is it even possible to read the "To be or not to be" speech with fresh eyes? I started to try to knock the play down a few notches. I asked myself, Why do I like this play? DO I like this play? What is the story? What are the problems with the story? What parts make no sense at all? I stopped thinking about the play as a masterpiece and started thinking of it as just another play. It's messy at parts -- do I leave those parts messy or try to iron them out? It's overlong -- do I trust the length or try to streamline the story? And what is the story WE as a cast and team are most interested in telling?
 
People started to ask me, "What's your concept?" I felt pressured to say something interesting and brilliant, something worthy of the greats. But every grand idea seemed either to have been done before, or sounded fake in my head like I was trying too hard. My team and I decided that we wanted to base the play in Charleston…but when and where? What does the castle and court feel like? For me what was missing, what I was praying for, was that one idea that would put it all into focus. I tried to stay patient.
 
It started with a joke. I found myself joking that the last scene of the play is like "a garden party gone horribly awry." That's how the idea started to take shape. I started to be able to see and hear and touch the characters. And through that one image, other elements and moments of the play started to unfold in my mind. A garden party. It sounded ridiculous, not "grand" at all, and yet… "A hit, a very palpable hit." I had started to find my way.

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