While it’s safe to say that not everyone loves Shakespeare, few would go as far as to suggest that the modern theater is being undermined by too great an appreciation for the Bard.
Yet according to this NPR story, an internet meme has gathered momentum proposing that very thing. A closer examination, however, reveals that any aspersion cast by the opinion has more to say about theater managers than about the indisputably greatest playwright who ever lived.
And to an extent it makes sense; by overrelying on a singular cow to deliver the cream, theater houses are not only dulling audiences with steady doses of the already familiar, they are also neglecting all the other works that rarely get performed as a result.
I suppose the same argument holds in arenas like classical music where Bach, Beethoven & Mozart tend to crowd out all the rest. But is there any other field where one titanic individual dominates his rivals to such an extent as Shakespeare? Should he be throttled back to allow other neglected voices to shine?
It’s an interesting idea to say the least. You can read more and comment on it yourself HERE.
I’d like to step back from the revenge frenzy to dwell for a moment on one of the things I love most about Shakespeare: his fondness for wordplay.
In Othello, characters toy with the word “think” – a metaphor for the speculation all people must engage in when evaluating the motives of others. Such banter permeates the play, but one particular exchange between Othello and Iago exaggerates the point as if Shakespeare were knocking us over the head to assure we get the message.
In Titus, a tale of dreadful tragedy and murderous revenge, the setting does not discourage Shakespeare from once again demonstrating his pyrotechnical gifts with language. My favorite exchange occurs in Act IV, a saucy back-and-forth between Aaron, Demetrius and Chiron that hinges on the multiple definitions of the verb “to do.”
DEMETRIUS: Villain, what hast thou done?
AARON: That which thou canst not undo.
CHIRON: Thou hast undone our mother.
AARON: Villain, I have done thy mother.
DEMETRIUS: And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone her.
Aaron freely confesses that he has slept with Tamora, who has borne him a black child. This fact, of course, cannot be “undone.” While at the same time, to “do” somebody is to, well, you know.
The subtlety of language goes further though, because “undoing” somebody also implies to undress them. Or to sabotage them. And to undress and to sabotage add their own shadings and complexities.
Thus, we can do something, undo something, do someone, do something to someone that can’t be undone, undo a dress, undo a queen, and on and on and on.
Listening to Shakespeare’s wordplay at times gives me the sensation I’m hearing a fugue by Johann Sebastian Bach. To match these towering geniuses of musicality would be asynchronous, since Shakespeare died in 1616 and Bach in 1750.
More fitting perhaps to choose a Renaissance composer such as Palestrina (1525-1594) . But even Palestrina’s mellifluous polyphony (that alone bespeaks his music’s beauty) can’t match how multi-directional, multi-valent and manifold Shakespeare’s harmonies are.
Here’s a stunning example of Palestrina:
Yet a key composer even closer to Shakespeare’s age like Monteverdi (1567-1643) might be more in keeping still. Listen for yourself:
With a timeless master like Shakespeare, it’s easy to forget that he was born and lived within a historical age and setting. Just as when we listen to Mozart or stare at a painting by Monet, our thoughts lift skyward toward the timeless, engaging in the Great Conversation that underlies all art since the beginning.
And yet we are all marked to some degree by the age in which we live. Shakespeare didn’t watch television, fly in an airplane, talk on a cell phone or go online. To what extent was he influenced by the artists and events surrounding him? How was he able to break free from the fetters that have bound most works by his contemporaries and to achieve immortality?
This weekend I shall make headway in two Shakespeare biographies: Will in the World by Stephen Greenblatt and Shakespeare: the Biography by Peter Ackroyd in the hopes of learning more.
…but even more to do with F. Murray Abraham, who foiled a backstage robbery. Way to go, F. Murray! Even though Mozart would have done it just a tad more memorably.
Last night during a rehearsal of Much Ado About Nothing at the Classic Stage Company, some unlucky malcontent sneaked into the theater’s dressing rooms and attempted to rob the show’s actors. Too bad he didn’t see F. Murray Abraham’s name on the marquee! Abraham snapped into action, scuffling backstage with the thief, who only managed to make off with Martha Plimpton’s bag and another actress’s wallet. Police are looking for a man with a hole in his face the size of Abraham’s fist.
A Year of Shakespeare 