Hannah R.

The moment I first beheld the RSC theatre, I knew I wanted to perform there someday. In retrospect, I find it difficult to explain the powerful feeling that took hold of me there, standing by the Avon River in the crisp morning air, swans honking their welcome. Maybe it had something to do with the detailed carvings in the brick walls of the theatre, or perhaps it was the simple concept of such a grand theatre, not sandwiched between other buildings and offices, standing on its own for the sole purpose of performance, of art. Whatever the cause, the feeling only increased as the week continued.

In the lounge of the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust, I abandoned my lovely caffeinated tea and wandered over to a small shelf of books, running my fingers over the spines, head tilted to read the titles. How amazing, I thought, to work in a place dedicated to the Bard, to be at the center of discovery and knowledge regarding the man and his plays. I felt the same way standing in the Birthplace, Hall’s Croft, and Nash’s House – a feeling of awe, suppressed excitement, and perhaps even reverence. I took few pictures, not because I didn’t have time (although that was also the case), but because the important thing for me was being there, and a photo couldn’t capture all of that sensory detail and emotion.

Although I find it unlikely that Shakespeare wrote more than a portion of Cardenio, the idea of seeing a “new” Shakespeare play was one of the most exciting parts of the week. It was amazing to sit in the audience and not know the next word, the next entrance, or the outcome of the plot. As with books, the fact that I enjoy rereading favorite books doesn’t mean that I’m not excited to read new ones.

In addition, the trip opened my eyes to a bit more of the world of professional theatre. I was fascinated by how many different kinds of stage weapons and ways to get blood onstage the RSC employed, from the standard retractable dagger to knives with attached phials of blood that could be squeezed for the authentic throat-slitting effect. I was impressed with the stagefighting during Macbeth (though not so much during The City Madam, where the kicks and punches looked just fake enough to fail at being either realistic or comic).

I may not have learned a huge amount of facts during the week in Stratford (although it was interesting to hear the “official” take on several Shakespearian debates), but, more importantly, I gained a sense of Stratford today and Stratford as it would have been in Shakespeare’s day. I could use many adjectives to describe various different parts of the trip, but the only universally applicable word I can find is ‘special.’ It was special to see the productions, for the quality and innovation and the simple fact that they were productions by The Royal Shakespeare Company! It was special to stand in the rooms at Mary Arden’s, Anne Hathaway’s, and the other houses, to climb the narrow staircases and walk over the same floors where Shakespeare would have walked. It was special to be in Stratford-upon-Avon, to laugh and cry and clap for the actors performing the Bard’s work. It was special to work with experts at the Birthplace Trust, and to speak and study Shakespeare in England, in Stratford, at the center of Shakespearian thought and research. I’m not sure I’m even doing an adequate job explaining just how special it was to me, so I will turn to the words of the Bard. In Henry VIII, the title character says, “It is a kind of good deed to say well; and yet words are not deeds.” So I shall suit the action to the word and the word to the action, and hope that the actions of speaking, listening, watching, writing, acting, in Stratford shall speak for themselves.

 

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