Kelsey Sharpe is a 19-year-old English major from San Diego, Calif. The UCLA sophomore writes that she's looking forward to "getting to see the plays in conjunction with reading them, and focusing on performances as well as the literature itself."
Shakespeare fave: Tranio from The Taming of the Shrew
Would Shakespeare have enjoyed the airplane risotto as much as I did?
While on Virgin Atlantic flight VS10 from JFK to London Heathrow, I decided to jot down a list of important observations or interesting differences between the United States and the United Kingdom (or at least their airlines). My intent was to cultivate a list of possible blog topics, and I set about my task with gusto. It has since become apparent that what seems to be 'gusto' at 3:00 a.m on a red eye flight is more accurately termed — after a rejuvenating nap — 'crazy-eyed fervor.'
My careful note-taking resulted in an unusable list, the Password clues for which might include such words as 'silly' and 'banal.' You do not get to see that list (no one will — ever), but suffice to say I have saved the Internet (the majority of which is presumably reading this) from a post about whether Shakespeare would've chosen the beef stew or the chicken with pasta for dinner.
The historic Old Vic Theatre, on the South Bank of the Thames.
The first play that we were assigned to read for class was The Winter's Tale. Thought to have been originally performed sometime in 1611, the play is a tragicomedy about King Leontes of Sicilia, who believes that his wife Hermione is carrying out an affair with the visiting king of Bohemia (Leontes' childhood friend who, despite my expectations, did not turn out to be portrayed by Harry Potter). TWT is replete with certain classic characteristics of both Shakespearean tragedies (doubt, jealousy, betrayal, death) and comedies (farce, disguises, reconciliation, marriage).
This was the first performance the class attended, and the first of TWT (we will be seeing it again in Stratford). The class traveled "severally" (to use an old Shakespearean stage cue indicating when a group of people move simultaneously, but separately or individually) to The Old Vic theatre. The Old Vic has been around since 1818 and is located just south of the Thames, within walking distance of our hotel. That said, my friend Chris and I decided to take the bus, as the theatre is not within walking-in-heels distance.
Once she and I found our seats, we were able to examine not only the ornate architecture of the interior, but also the stage, which was not hidden by a curtain. Already set for the first act, the stage was covered with votive candles. The striking presence of so many flickering candles set a tone that was at first calm, but which, much like the first half of the play, became increasingly ominous. In contrast, the second half of the play was set against a backdrop of a bright blue sky that appropriately matched the comedic, pastoral setting.
My previous post sufficiently covered the topic of culture, but where would any advulture blog be without the 'adv-'? This post is about the adventure after the show.
Me with Billy Crudup, Watchmen's Dr. Manhattan.
My friend Chris is something of a movie buff, so as soon as the show ended she and I zoomed out of the theatre and around the corner to seek out the stage door. I'm not the hugest Ethan Hawke fan, but I know I have a blog what needs some interestin' posts, so I volunteered to take a picture of her with him. While we waited the two of us noticed something odd — we were the only two people from our entire class there, and indeed there were only three other people waiting with us. Having both been to U.S. shows or concerts where the stage door was a writhing scrum of people post-show, we were a touch confused. We were about to leave when we saw that two of our classmates were headed our way. The four of us were soon joined by a fifth, and the actors began to exit. Most of them beat a hasty retreat (including Simon Russell Beale, who I would have liked to have gotten a picture with, but such is life), but some stopped to talk to friends who were waiting for them outside.
It was at this point that one of our group recognized another one of the people waiting as Billy Crudup. Crudup is probably best known for his role as Dr. Manhattan (AKA "that naked blue guy") in the film adaptation of Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons' graphic novel Watchmen. I am a huge comic book nerd, and I enjoyed the movie very much, so as soon as his name was mentioned I imagine that I whipped around somewhat like the hamster in that YouTube video.
Wednesday, we got the opportunity to listen to a guest speaker named Ben Crystal, an author and actor whose latest book, Shakespeare on Toast, aims to get people to understand Shakespeare's works not as books that need to be read, but rather as plays that ought to be performed. The students from both Professor Post's and Professor Braunmuller's sections (I myself am a Braunmullerite) assembled in the conference room not knowing quite what to expect.
Crystal, son of renowned English linguist David Crystal, shared with the class that he has been referred to as "the Jamie Oliver
of Shakespeare." He explained that just as Oliver tries to convince
non-cookers to take up a fry pan, he hopes that his book will make
Shakespeare more accessible to those who consider the bard too dull or
difficult. The fact that both are young, charming, English blokes
probably had something to do with the analogy as well; it remains to be
seen whether Crystal will begin to refer to himself as The Naked Actor.
I think it's fair to say that most people share some very definite
feelings about traveling. People want to travel, they want to see the
famous sights, and they want to take silly pictures where they're
goofing with their friends or making it look like they're holding up
something that's in the distance (ah, perspective). But at the same
time, they worry about annoying the locals, or holding people up in
line to ask questions, or looking the wrong way when crossing the
streets.
Everybody wants to tour, but nobody wants to be a tourist.
Eventually
you become resigned to it and accept that a local is going to realize
that you are not their fellow countryperson. Unfortunately, the way you
resign yourself is by enduring several embarrassments. At least each
embarrassment can be a learning opportunity.
I had such an
experience near to the beginning of my arrival in England. I had a
two-hour break between the end of lecture and the beginning of
discussion section, so I headed to lunch at a local restaurant
advertising falafel. To my surprise, when I found it on the menu, there
were two prices next to it — £2.99 (about $5) and £3.49 (about $5.80).
There was no indication that there were different sizes, and everything
else on the menu had two prices as well. The guy at the register asked
what I would like and, flustered, I replied, "I'll have the falafel
box, please. Would you mind if I paid the cheaper price?" Luckily he
was nice — he just laughed and explained that the cheaper price was the
to-go price.
Chris and I with Ramin Karimloo, the actor/singer currently playing the Phantom in London's production of The Phantom of the Opera.
On
Friday we finished our first exam, and armed with the knowledge that
Saturday was going to be a class-free day, we set out to have a good
night in London. For Chris and I, that meant rushing up to our rooms
and then out to a cab to catch a 7:30 showing (half an hour after our
exam ended!) of The Phantom of the Opera at Her Majesty's Theatre on the West Side.
I had never before seen Phantom
(not even the movie), but Chris is a seasoned veteran and was able to
catch me up on the one scene we missed — the auction at the very
beginning. Considering I didn't really know the story it was very easy
to follow, and a very visually stimulating show; the sets were
incredible. The singers were all excellent, particularly the man
playing the Phantom and the woman playing Christine.
After the
show we headed over to the stage door and were able to meet Ramin
Karimloo (the Phantom) who was very friendly and eager to chat. He
talked with Chris a bit about the book upon which Phantom of the Opera
is based, and mentioned that as preparation for the role he studied
Asperger's Syndrome, a mild form of autism. The London version is the
original Phantom show, and I would recommend it to anyone who is a fan — or anyone who needs something to celebrate the end of an exam with.
On Saturday, our first free day, Chris and I decided to take the train up to Oxford. Since Chris has been to Oxford before, she was eager to show me the sights. We arrived at Paddington Station (no bears, alas) and got on the train heading toward Slough (any UK Office fans?).
Unfortunately, we were on quite a short train and the platform for Oxford is so long, so we weren't close enough to even read the signs telling us we were at the Oxford stop until we were already departing from the station. Luckily, the next stop was about 15 minutes away in the Cotswolds. We got out and waited for the next train coming by in the opposite direction, which took about 30 minutes. The trip back to Oxford was thankfully short, such that the conductor checking for tickets didn't get to us before we had gotten off (if he had, I imagine it would've gone something like that scene from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade … see video).
Lida, Amanda, and I in our costumes for Act 3.1-3.2 of Julius Caesar
For the most part, the educational portion of this trip is relatively straightforward — lecture every day for two hours, and a discussion every third day for one hour. The only thing that really requires a bit of outside prep (apart from reading and studying, of course) is the scene that we have to perform for our discussion sessions. My TA Emily split us into groups and designated each group one of the plays. My group, which includes a girl named Lida and a fellow blogger, Amanda, was assigned Julius Caesar.
Today was my group's turn; we decided to perform scenes from the third act, just after the conspirators (spoiler alert!) kill Caesar. We met up and practiced, and decided that of all the plays to have to perform, we lucked out costume-wise. The only bad thing was the strange looks we got from hotel staff as we walked through the lobby with the sheets (togas) and teaspoons (swords) from our rooms.
Last night we saw the Royal Shakespeare Company's production of Julius Caesar at
The Courtyard Theatre, one of their extant venues used while their main
two are under construction. The theatre itself is very interesting in
construction — quite tall, and with a very protuberant thrust stage
that the audience sits around.
The damage from the assassination scene.
Some of my classmates and I were seated
close to the stage in the first three rows on the left-hand side. As we
sat, we joked about being in the splash zone, as Caesar is a famously bloody play. Little did we know how prescient our jokes would turn out to be.
The
show was very unique from the two others that we've seen, as this one
incorporated video screens to serve as background and to help set the
scene. A larger screen at the top of the stage generally contributed to
the setting, while six screens at stage level pivoted to be at various
angles from the audience and displayed angry plebeians or marching
soldiers. Professor Braunmuller
dubbed these the "Kentucky Derby" screens, as the actors entering from
behind them looked as if they were emerging from stalls.
The
most memorable event of the night came during Act 3, scene 1 when the
conspirators stab Caesar "three-and-thirty" times (according to Marc
Antony in a later scene). Talk about overkill. You remember I mentioned
a splash zone? Casca had just leapt onto the Senate steps behind Caesar
and plunged his sword into his back, leading to the other conspirators
to do the same, when I suddenly felt a smack on my chest.
You remember Sam Troughton from Kelsey's last post. He played Brutus in Julius Caeser.
Professors Braunmuller and Post have been doing this program for many years now, which means that (much to our benefit) they have made some friends at the Royal Shakespeare Company here in Stratford-upon-Avon. Suzanne Harris, our liaison with the RSC, has set up a number of guest speakers for us, including the head of men's costuming, an associate director (Michael Fentiman), and some of the company's actors (Sam Troughton and Greg Hicks). I thought it might be fun to include some of their comments and responses to the class.
Sam Troughton's chief role currently is Brutus in Julius Caesar, but he also plays various bit roles in The Winter's Tale:
"The trouble with Brutus is that he thinks he's in a play called Marcus Brutus."
On director Lucy Bailey's view of the plebeians in Act 3, Scene 2 (just after the assassination of Caesar) "The crowd is an animal — something that can be controlled, but that bites back."
Michael Fentiman is an associate director with the company, who is working this season on As You Like It:
On the transition from text to stage: "We didn't cut anything until the first previews…[we have to find] what works for a non-Elizabethan audience."
In Southern England there is a chain of café/pastry shops called Patisserie Valerie. The first opened in London in 1926. It just so happens that there is one in Stratford, so I now present to you my week in pastries. Because I went there every day. Don't judge until you see the pictures.
Patisserie Valerie, a very tasty café and pastry shop located on the same street as "The Birthplace" — the house where Shakespeare was born and grew up.
My first pastry, a banana éclair with a caramel sauce and toffee crumbles.
They call it a macaroon, but it's more like an almond square. Two layers of filling, dipped in chocolate on both ends. One of the cheaper pastries, and very easy to take away for later.
A light pistachio cream on top of an almond-soaked sponge cake, with strawberries and fresh whipped cream.
Hamlet is part of the Donmar company's West End season this year, and is playing at the Wyndham's Theatre.
This
trip has been an amazing opportunity to study in the cities where
Shakespeare lived and wrote, and to see fantastic performances of
arguably some of the most thought-provoking and challenging texts in
the Western canon. That said, most of the people I know, when they ask
me about how it's going so far, usually start the conversation with a
question about "the 'Jude Law' Hamlet."
I admit, I am somewhat guilty of hyping that in my descriptions to
friends and relatives, and it is with no small amount of disappointment
that I can deem that over-hyping.
A year ago, after reading Hamlet in
my 12th grade English class, would I have felt differently? What about
two weeks ago, before I had seen three excellent productions put on by
the RSC? Maybe back then it would've seemed okay, or even pretty good.
Unfortunately, being where I am in the course, I can say that the
production was a little lack-luster — some classmates have called it
"mediocre" or "underwhelming," both of which I agree with. The point of
this is not to rip the show to shreds, but rather to expostulate on
something I discovered when watching this play: I didn't mind that it
wasn't very good. The fact that I can say it wasn't very good and have
reasons beyond just "I didn't like it," has shown me how much I've
learned in these few short weeks.
The (squat) Tower of London; Kelsey on her way in to "The Bloody Tower" ("Still not as bloody as Julius Caesar," she notes).
Monday was our last viable day of sightseeing in London, so many of us rushed off after lecture today to tie up some metaphorical loose ends. Chris and I hoped to return to Covent Gardens, visit the Camden Town markets, and sneak in a visit to the Tower of London. Due to the fact that lecture ends at 1:00, and London businesses tend to close around 5:30 (or 17:30, as England is on military time — at least on clocks and train schedules), we didn't really have all that much time to do these three things. We therefore took a challenge upon ourselves — get to, see, and get out of the Tower of London in just one hour.
Getting there was quick and relatively easy; we took the underground from Holborn (Central Line to Liverpool Street, Circle Line to Tower Hill), and then walked a couple of blocks. As we approached, I must admit I was a touch underwhelmed — not to say that castles aren't impressive, and that this isn't an impressive specimen of castledom, but when you call something "The Tower" it ought to, you know, tower.
One difference between America and England that my TA Emily noted early on in the course is that here, museums are free and most of the churches are not, while in America, the opposite is true. London is absolutely full of interesting (and indeed free) museums, so here is my quick guide to a few that I visited.
The National Gallery Located at the top of Trafalgar Square, the National Gallery houses a very impressive collection of European art dating from the Middle Ages through the Impressionist period. The Gallery is very nicely laid out, with the various wings arranged chronologically, and it contains a helpful resource center called ArtStart where you can peruse the gallery's entire collection on touch-screen monitors.
The National Gallery must-see: The Arnolfini Portrait by Jan Van Eyck; Venus and Mars by Sandro Botticelli; Rain, Steam, and Speed — The Great Western Railway by J.M.W. Turner; Sunflowers by Vincent Van Gogh.
UCLA students visiting England write home about their month-long trip studying Shakespeare's plays, watching live performances, and hanging out with the actors in the pub after the show. Questions? Contact us.
Kelsey Sharpe is a 19-year-old English major from San Diego, Calif. The UCLA sophomore writes that she's looking forward to "getting to see the plays in conjunction with reading them, and focusing on performances as well as the literature itself."
The National Gallery
