A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Blackfriars

 Sunday I was able to visit my very favorite theatre, the Blackfriars in Staunton, Virginia, to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I spent a month at the Blackfriars in 2008 as part of NEH grant and fell in love with it then and its underlying theory of exploring original practices (from Shakespeare’s time) in the production of Shakespeare in our time. If I had to briefly sum up what makes Blackfriars special, I’d have to say it’s in the connections they create in each performance with their audiences. No two shows are exactly alike because no two audiences are exactly alike, and though I had only a day in Staunton this visit and could only see the one show, I greatly enjoyed in 2008 watching multiple performances of the same play and studying how the actors interacted with different audiences. There is no better theater to sit and watch audiences as they sit and watch actors.

Sunday’s performance was the best performance of Dream I’ve ever seen. The friend I went with, an avid theatergoer, said it was the best Shakespeare he’d ever seen performed. It was his first time at the Blackfriars, but it won’t be his last.

The Blackfriars start their shows with pre-show music, which is always wonderful and well worth getting there early to see, and sell beer and wine and snacks on the stage. Rick Blunt, who would play Puck, was on stage selling raffle tickets as well; winners received an autographed poster from the play. I bought a single ticket, but luck was not with me. No matter: the performance more than made up for it even if I didn’t walk away with an autographed poster. Likewise, there was a vaudeville act during intermission with music and juggling and singing; these actors don’t go backstage and rest during intermission; they work! (All of this by the way derives from original practices when lots of other entertainments and vendors commingled with Shakespearean drama, a practice also once popular in eighteenth- and nineteenth-century American theater but now lost nearly everywhere except Staunton).

John Harrell started the performance as Philostrate, complete in formal wear, dismissing Rick Blunt with a wave of his hand and a “That’ll be all; you may leave now,” and telling us to turn off our phones and pay attention. His dry wit as he provided the opening instructions to the audience had us in stitches. James Keegan’s Theseus was likewise wonderful. Keegan can do nothing wrong on a stage. The doublings for the show were most fascinating. In addition to playing Theseus, Keegan also played Cobweb, which worked well. Rick Blunt played both Puck and Starveling, and had to make several early exits to make it work, exits that to me that seemed just a bit forced and perhaps one weakness in the performance. The most fascinating doubling, though, was played by that of Alison Glenzer, who played both Hippolyta and Snug (who later in the play takes on the part of Lion in “Pyramus and Thisbe”). The two characters initially seemed incompatible as both must be on stage for act five. This seemed to be solved by having Peter Quince take on the role of Lion, which initially seemed as distracting as Starveling’s early exits, until Hippolyta stood and beautifully gave Bottom’s line from earlier in the play “Let me play the lion” and took the gloved claws from Peter Quince and proceeded to read the lines from a script, a delightful juxtaposition of the two parts she’d played the previous two hours. When Theseus said, “Well moused, Lion,” the line took on new meaning because he was praising his love; when he calls her a “gentle beast” he’s saying it tenderly to his bride as they embrace. When Demetrius and Lysander praise her, it’s genuine praise for their new duchess. There is so much in the text to support these moves that I had never seen before. It took this performance and these splendid actors, though, along with some of Ralph Alan Cohen’s doubling genius, to bring it to life for me.

It’s also worth pointing out the nice sense of camaraderie established early in the play between its female characters, particularly Hippolyta and Hermia, who had a tender moment back in act one and seemed to connect again in act five. I’ve seen this in other performances, including the 1999 Michael Hoffman film version, and have always found it a solid, even if predictable, feminist reading of Hippolyta’s relatively silent time on stage in both acts one and five, that really played nicely into her taking on the lion role.

The fifth act also played incorporated some delicious debauchery into the action that had the entire audience busting out with laughter. When Bottom said to Wall (the ever stoic John Harrell), “Cursed be thy stones for thus deceiving me,” he gave him a solid kick to the stones (testicles) that left him bent over the next few minutes in pain, unable to lift his hands any higher than his groin for the “chink” through which the two lovers were to whisper. The two must then bend low on either side, giving a new reading to Thisbe’s “I kiss the wall’s hole, not your lips at all” a moment later. I hope those lines went over all those children’s heads, though I doubt the double entendre was missed on any adult in the theater!

What made the show truly great, though, was its interaction with the audience, and one particular audience member, in fact. At the Blackfriars, there are some five stools on either side of the stage, just as there were on the original Blackfriars stage centuries ago in Shakespeare’s time, and before the show audience members are invited to volunteer and come watch the show while actually sitting on the stage. On Sunday, there was a little African American boy — he couldn’t have been older than ten — sitting on one of the stools on stage left. He was perhaps more engaged with the action in front of him than any other child I’ve ever seen at a Shakespeare play (it’s also worth noting that I counted at least 20 children at this performance, perhaps more, and there are few things that warm my heart more than seeing children watch Shakespeare). It was clear that this child was not only enjoying himself, but that he fully understood the events happening a few feet from him on stage. When Puck approaches the four lovers to “apply remedy,” he looks confusedly from Demetrius to Lysander and back again, looking quizzically to the audience for help. This little guy had jumped up from his seat and was emphatically pointing to Lysander, who lay on the ground just a foot or two away. He knew even if Puck didn’t. After the love juice was placed, Puck walked over and gave the little guy a high five for his assistance. The highlight of the afternoon, though, came when Bottom awoke a few minutes later. He had been lying asleep on the stage and when all the other characters were gone, the young boy pointed to him alerting us all to the fact he was still there. Bottom awoke and delivered the line “God’s my life, stolen hence, and left me asleep!” as a question directly to the audience, asking where the other mechanicals had gone, and this wonderful child exclaimed, “They’ve gone back to town on you!”. Even Gregory Jon Phelps, who played Bottom majestically, was in awe of this kid, and went over to give him another high five. Don’t ever try to convince me that children aren’t capable of understanding Shakespeare, not when it’s done this well.

This was an absolutely amazing show by one of the most gifted Shakespearean troupes in the country in one of the most intriguing stages we have. What a great gift it is to have the Blackfriars and this company. Thanks, guys!

 

Romeo and Juliet at the KC Repertory Theater

I had the opportunity yesterday afternoon to attend a performance of Romeo and Juliet at the Kansas City Repertory Theater on the campus UMKC (University of Missouri – Kansas City). The theater itself was comfortable, the setup sound, but I just simply cannot enjoymyself to the fullest extent possible with a proscenium stage; I find myself always going back to all the possibilities of a production were it placed on a thrust stage, opportunities lost by the vast limitations of the proscenium stage. Why we continue to keep designing theaters this way and have for so long is simply beyond me. It was a solid performance; the performance of Juliet was particularly noteworthy. She was able to capture the fluidity of Shakespeare’s natural rhythms in her speech in a way many of the actors around her failed to do. The portrayal of Romeo was tired and lackluster.

The performance had a simple set, and I was intrigued by the fight choreography. I had never before seen a performance in which the pre-performance fight practices were done on stage just prior to the start of the show. It was a fascinating glimpse into the process of creating a production and the hard work that goes into these action scenes.Overall, this is a good, but not stellar, university-quality production and I would recommend seeing to anybody interested in Shakespeare or local theater.

 

Cymbeline at the Tom Patterson Theater (and Hirsch at the Studio Theater) in Stratford

I went last night to see Hirsch at the Studio Theater. It was a fantastic, short one-man show detailing the life of John Hirsch, who was the artistic director here at the Stratford Festival in the early 1980s. He was a Holocaust survivor, the only in his family, and an orphan at the age of thirteen. He was also gay. He eventually came to Canada and went to school here and made Canada his lifetime home. His story is a fascinating one. I doubt the play will have widespread appeal outside of Stratford and Canada, despite being an excellent production, though I could be wrong. It did not try to tell Hirsch’s story chronologically, but instead told it in bits and pieces ranging from his childhood to his death. The story came at us like a flood of memories, random and chaotic, but more complete perhaps than a more “logically” laid out narrative. The play portrayed a passionate man full energy and confidence. Prospero was no hero, but a benevolent dictator, and Hirsch had no room in his heart for any more benevolent dictators. He told his Calibans to hate Prospero, but to hate him as they would hate their own fathers. I walked away feeling familiar with a period of the Stratford Festival history from the early eighties a dozen years before I made my first trip to Stratford. The play lasted about ninety minutes. I’m happy I decided to go, and would like to see other performances detailing the lives of important figures in theater like Hirsch. It gives a depth to the history of this important place.

This morning I visited the Festival Exhibition. Its a small installation near the Avon Theater, and to be truthful, is too limited to be worth the six dollar cost of admission. It’s new this year, and they intend to change the exhibit each season. The most interesting piece they had was Sir Alec Guiness’s robe from when he played Richard III in the inaugural season in Stratford. It was long and majestic. This morning, though, there was a talk there with xxx which made the visit well worth it. xxx played both King Arthur in Camelot last season, which I saw, and also Falstaff in The Merry Wives of Windsor, which I did not see due to time constraints last summer. This season, he plays Cymbeline in Cymbeline, which I just saw and will discuss in a moment, and is also is the Wilder’s The Matchmaker, which I’m debating seeing still. I am thinking of buying a rush ticket for that a little later this evening. He’s been in the company here since the eighties, but joked that lately he plays mostly kings and drunks, to which somebody in the audience shouted out, “is there any difference between kings and drunks?” He spoke for about an hour and had great energy. He talked about hyperextending his knee a couple of weeks ago and a costume malfunction once which left everything exposed to the audience for a moment. He spoke of physicality and how playing Falstaff left him with an aching back and Richard III a part that always left somebody feeling hurt. He also spoke of two television shows he had been in, one about a vampire cop and another about the theater called Slings and Arrows, which several in the audience were familiar with and spoke fondly of. I think I’ll find it after I get to Alaska and see about watching it.

His performance today in Cymbeline was stellar, was were the performances of the entire cast. Of the four plays I’ve seen here on this trip to Stratford, this was the strongest. Like Titus last year, this performance struck me and made me think about a new play in ways I had not before. I’d seen the performance once before here and my strongest memory of that performance was the sight of Iamachio looming over Innogen in bed. He was half dressed and the scene was extremely sensual as he loomed over her. Today’s seemed less sensual, perhaps because Iamachio was played by a much older man, and he was fully clothed. Another interesting bit was that in the last performance here, Innogen was white and Iamachio black. That was reversed in this play: Iamachio was white and Innogen was black. I think, though, we’ve moved past a point in theater when we are supposed to pay any attention to the race of the actors. At one time directors tried to be bold with race in casting occasionally. Now, though, they do not, at least not in Shakespearean acting.

I think I love Cymbeline so much for its great language and also its great plot development. Few of Shakespeare’s plays have such an intricate and well-designed plot. It’s an epic adventure story. It has princesses and war. It has cross dressing and heads cut off. It has long lost children returned to their father and evil queens (and step-mothers). It packs so much adventure story into a single play. I love it for that. It’s also barely a comedy. It starts with marriage like a tragedy, and early in the play feels something like Othello, with a royal princess betraying her father for love. It also has similar moments to what I described as a tragic element in Much Ado, when Posthumous falls into the trap of believing his bride false, just as Claudio did to Hero. The queen reminds me of Lady Macbeth or Tamora or even Gertrude too. She comes straight from a Shakespearean tragedy. One thing, though, that is special to this play not typical in Shakespeare, is the sight of a loving mother to her son. She appears only momentarily in a dream, when Posthumous sees her parents and brother plead on his behalf to Jupiter, but it’s such a rare thing in Shakespeare that it seems worth mentioning.

Today’s performance did an exceptional job portraying Jupiter. The lighting and effects were excellent. For the most part, Shakespearean stage productions should not try to awe audiences with special effects, but an occasional effect can be fun. The four ghosts of his family came and circled his sleeping body in a blue light, and Jupiter appeared above the stage, where a balcony might have been, bestriding a giant gold eagle. A fog and strobing lights finished the effect, and did an excellent job with a scene that barely seems to fit the character of the rest of the play.

If there was anything about the performance that bothered me, it was the audience. It was not just the elderly woman who snored next to me through the entire first half and then asked me what I thought of the play during the intermission, but the fact that so many people laughed at lines that simply were not funny. There were some great moments in the play that made me laugh too, but there were times, like when the headless corpse of Cloten was displayed, that they laughed too.

Now, I’m sitting at my favorite Stratford restaurant, Bentley’s, at a tiny table for two in the back near the kitchen, having just finished a delicious Shepherd’s pie, and now enjoying a slice of heavenly chocolate cheesecake. I’ve been writing as I ate the past hour, just as I did yesterday after seeing Much Ado, and just as I did a year ago after seeing Twelfth Night and then again after seeing Titus. Rush tickets have already gone on sale for evening performances, and I still have not made my mind up yet about whether to stay and see one last show — presumably The Matchmaker — or to get headed back to Michigan. Decisions, decisions!

 

Henry V at the Festival Theater in Stratford

I can say with certainty that this afternoon’s performance of Henry V was the first time I’ve seen the play performed, and I was greatly impressed with the production. There was no attempt to set the action anywhere other than medieval England and France, which I thought was excellent. The stage was predominately black and brown through most of the production, with the English dressed in red and white (which also happen to be Canada’s colors as the director reminded us when he dropped a Canadian flag over the British flag at the very end of the play) and the French primarily wore blue. It was a simple convention that kept it clear which side the characters were on at any given time.

This was a dark play. While the program reiterated that Shakespeare’s presentation of war was ambivalent, the director’s presentation was clearly anti-war. The program even compared Henry V’s war to Bush’s war on Iraq. An anti-war song filled the theater at the end as we left. The most startling moment in the play, though, was the hanging of Bardolph. Just before intermission, he was hoisted some fifteen feet over our heads, and left to hang there even after the lights came back on and people were leaving the auditorium. It was only after a few minutes that he was pulled up through the roof and out of our sight. The illusion was realistic, and the effect was shocking. Several people clapped for his performance when he was finally pulled up through the ceiling.

Another dark moment came earlier in the play when three heads of traitors were chopped off before our eyes. All three men lay belly down on the stage and their executioner’s raised their axes and the lights went dark just as they were dropping their weapons. It was a powerful moment. Another was the scene in which the bodies of the murdered boys were piled up on a wagon. The line seemed endless as the corpses, carefully wrapped in linens, were added. Falstaff’s boy (then Pistol’s) was carefully wrapped for us all to see and then piled on too.

The program and the lobby talk discussed performances that tried to mollify the play’s violence and heroize Henry. This performance clearly did not. It showed us all of the atrocities too. During the lobby talk, it was discussed how by making those cuts, though, Henry could be portrayed more heroically, though less round. He didn’t have to make difficult decisions, like to execute Bardolph or have the prisoners from Agincourt killed. By not showing these difficult decisions, war is romanticized. Then I started thinking about my own study of school readers in the nineteenth century. I’ve been wrestling with an analysis of the decisions compilers made in editing these books, and was struck that they left out too many of the atrocities. They included Henry’s famous speeches, some included the choruses, but none referenced these other darker sides to the plays. There are several possible explanations — that they too were promoting a pro-war view of Henry V, that they were sheltering students from darker passages that involved death — but the most satisfying is also the most simple, that the compilers chose the best rhetorical pieces for students to use as speaking exemplars.

Back to the play, I was also surprised and intrigued to see for the English tutoring scene the princess entirely nude. I’ve read that nudity on stage is common, but today’s play was the first time I’ve seen it. I didn’t see much, as curtains covered her from the shoulders down for most of the scene, and when she rose up attendants moved them with her, but a glimpse was enough to show that she was indeed nude. This isn’t really a big deal, but it does seem worth noting all the same.

Overall, this was a good, good show. The histories have always been the most difficult for me to get into, but I must say that recently I’ve become very intrigued by them. The fact they represent real historical figures make them so much more enticing. After reading the Richard II tetralogy and then seeing Henry V today, it leaves me longing for more! I know other playwrights also wrote history plays. I’ll need to find some of those and take a look at those as well.

 

Much Ado About Nothing – Festival Theater in Stratford, Ontario

Much Ado About Nothing, directed by Christopher Newton

Last night’s performance of Much Ado About Nothing was set in late nineteenth century Brazil, at about the time of its king’s overthrow.  It was an interesting choice, though such choices have little effect upon an overall performance in my opinion.  It affected the clowns and their music and style.  There was a beautiful winding staircase in the center of the stage leading up to a small balcony, and a lush tree off to stage right, though the set to my untrained eye could have just as easily been Renaissance Italy.  In fact, it was only because I was told it was set there before the show, first in a pre-show lecture I attended, and then a second time in the program.  Merry Wives had been set in 1919 Britain, and there was some time spent in the pre-show discussion on the matter too, but I simply think these choices do little to add or detract from the show.  They must be made, and in both cases, they result in a nice, pretty set, but have little overall to do with the presentation of Shakespeare’s language.

I can’t recall now if I had seen Much Ado on stage before or not.  I originally thought I had seen it at the Blackfriars, but after seeing it last night, I’m not quite sure now whether I did or not.  At first I thought I saw it when I was part of the NEH institute in the summer of 2008, but now I think it may instead have been in the summer of 2009 when I returned there.  My own muddy memory again has failed me.  In fact, I’m going to now start a list of plays that I’ve seen so that I can better remember all of this and keep it as part of this blog.  It will definitely be useful as a reference tool for these types of questions.

Benedick (played by Ben Carlson) and Beatrice (played by Deborah Hayes) in the Stratford Shakespeare Festival production of Much Ado in the Festival Theater

Overall, I don’t really know that I have much to say about this production.  It was a pleasurable production to watch.  I thought that Deborah Hay’s performance of Beatrice was brilliant.  She stole the show.  At first, I thought I would hate her portrayal.  She seemed whiny, and clumsily struggled to walk a straight line.  When she learned of Benedick’s alleged infatuation with her, she stumbled down the spiral staircase on her bottom in fashion that would have made Bottom proud.  Her facial expressions, which later proved such a strength, at first appeared too strained, too much a clown-like character.  She bent her body when she peered at people, and gazed about in such an un-lady-like fashion that I feared at first glance she wouldn’t be able to later capture Beatrice’s serious side.   As the performance proceeded, though, her characterization proved genuine and her strength after Hero’s called-off wedding was stellar.  That clumsiness and power of  her non-verbal expressions proved me absolutely wrong.  She commanded the stage, commanded Leonato and Benedick both.  When she says “Kill Claudio” she had the audience in stitches momentarily, but our laughter shrunk away in the shadow of her power, just as it convinced Benedick too of its sincerity.  The entire play became a tragedy for a moment and the tension shifted.  What had been giddy wordplay became dark and sinister, a defense of her cousin and of the plight women faced in a patriarchal society.  Beatrice could as easily played her part in any tragedy as well, and if pushed too it controlled the men around her as powerfully as Lady Macbeth or Tamora.  If wronged, she’d be revenged.  She had that strength.  It takes a very special actress to show that side of Beatrice, though, to have her stumble across the stage at one moment, and then portray a few scenes later such strength without compromising the position of her character.  Beatrice is one of Shakespeare’s most round heroines, and Hay captured her beautifully.

As I watched, I was also struck with how much there was in this play too that reminded me of Dream.  Leonato is Egeus.  Hero is Hermia.  Beatrice is  Helena.  Claudio and Benedick are Demetrius and Lysander.  Theseus is Don Pedro.  The constables are the rude mechanicals.  I can see how both plays were written for the same company, and the parts correspond to one another.  I’m not quite sure about a few characters, but I bet somebody has already analyzed their relationship.

As I watched, I was also struck with the nature in this play of deception, of overhearing things and the repercussions of knowledge.  In the case of Benedick, then Benedick, and later Borachio, these tricks were deliberate.  They were meant to enforce a certain false knowledge for an ulterior motive.  With Beatrice and Benedick, it was to get them to fall in love.  In the case of Borachio, to destroy the love Claudio felt for Hero.  At other times, though, the knowledge is not meant to be shared.  When Dogberry and the justices discover Borachio’s plot, overhearing his deceptions, it foils his plot and saves Hero.  It wasn’t the first time, though, that Claudio was tricked by Don John’s scheming.  He had before quickly believed that the prince was wooing Hero for himself when he was not.  In the pre-show lecture, it was discussed that Claudio is a bit of a fool, and I think I believe this true.  He is gullible.  This is a play about gullible characters.  Everybody at one point is made a fool, whether benevolently or maliciously.  An important underlying theme here is to think critically, to ask questions.  Along with similar themes in Cymbeline and Othello, we learn that we must think things through carefully, We are suspicious creatures, like Leonato of Hero, yet creatures easily manipulated through out fears.

Today, I watch Henry V.  Tomorrow is Cymbeline.  I’ll add more over the next two days after watching those shows.

 

Back in Michigan

I’ve been back in Michigan for almost a week now.  It’s great.  I met up with Rob in Detroit and we saw a classic Tigers victory.  It was a come-from-behind victory that we watched from our nice shady seats about thirty rows beyond first base.  Great seats.  Great company.  Great to hang out with a great friend at the game.  Here’s the link with all the details:

http://mlb.mlb.com/mlb/gameday/index.jsp?gid=2012_07_16_anamlb_detmlb_1&partnerId=ed-6206017-325550240#gid=2012_07_16_anamlb_detmlb_1&mode=recap&c_id=det

Since then I’ve been camping down in Kalamazoo with Brandy and the girls and Connie and Terry.  It’s been fun.  Yesterday, I took Dakotah and we ventured to WMU.  We went to the library and got a couple of books, then printed out some directions I needed, and then I had an appointment with Nic, the graduate advisor, to discuss graduation.  We also got to catch up with Bethlynn, who is always great to talk to.  She has such positive energy around her.  After that, we got some lunch, and drove down to see Allen at Lake Michigan.  That was very cool.  His wife’s family owns a house with beach front access to the lake, and Allen and I just sat for a long time on the beach talking about graduation and about the dissertation so far.  Then we jumped in did some swimming.  Allen tried to show me how to body surf, which was fun, but I was not very good at it.  Maybe some day I’ll get better.  I feel good about things right now.  This dissertation will get finished and I will earn my PhD in the summer of 2013.  I’m excited about my prospects right now.

I spent today at the library at WMU working on some revisions for chapter two that Allen and I talked about yesterday.  I’ll come back tomorrow and continue that work, and then drive up to Ionia after that where I’m planning to do some camping with Rob for the next few days.  Wednesday is COPS day at the Ionia Free Fair, and then after that I’ll be driving to Stratford to see some Shakespeare plays on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.  Brandy and I are leaving just the two of us on Sunday for two nights after that at Silver Lake, which I’m really looking forward to, after which we’ll pick up the girls and head over to Bruce and Lacey’s for next Wednesday and Thursday.  We’ve got lots planned for the next two weeks and it’s looking like a fun and exciting summer in Michigan!  I’m done for now at the library, and am getting ready to head back to the campground and do some swimming!

 

Baltimore

Miggy in Baltimore, July 14, 2012

My time in DC finished, I’ve enjoyed the past two afternoons in Baltimore watching Tigers / Orioles baseball.  I had the same great seat for both games, a single seat in section 6 (row 10, seat 1), just elevated about ten feet above the field.  Other than the scorching sun, it was a perfect seat, watching the game from about twenty yards behind the first base umpire’s.  I had a great view of home plate over his shoulder.  Being a single seat, it hadn’t sold when I bought my tickets back in February.

Saturday’s game was a five-hour, thirteen inning battle.  It was a marathon.  In batting practice, I watched Prince take shot after shot, nailing at least nine homeruns over the right field wall.  Two completely left the park.  He was on fire during batting practice, but he didn’t hit any in either game.  The Tigers made a three-run comeback in the bottom of the ninth, twice took a lead into the bottom of an extra inning, but ended up losing 8-6 after a walk-off homerun by rookie T. Teagarden, who was playing in his first ever major league game.  Valverde and Benoit both blew save opportunities.  Despite the loss, it was a great game, a real battle.

Today’s afternoon game had a different flavor.  Justin Verlander pitched either shutout innings, only getting into a little trouble in the first after a hit and a walk.  After that, he settled down and looked great the rest of the game.  Austin Jackson opened the first with a solo shot, and Miguel Cabrera closed the ninth out with a solo shot of his own.  Valverde finished the ninth, giving up a leadoff hit, but then inducing the double play to make it look easy going 1-2-3 in the bottom of the ninth.  It was atonement for his performance last night in the tenth when he blew a Tiger lead.

Verlander in Baltimore, July 15, 2012

I really enjoyed Camden Yards, all 22 innings of it.  It’s a really nice old-fashioned ballpark built in a time when other cities were building monstrocities (i.e. Toronto’s Skydome).  Boog’s BBQ made a great lunch before the game started.  Boog was even out signing autographs before the game started.  Great atmosphere.  I’m not sure when I’ll be back in Baltimore, but if I’m around and the Tigers are visiting, it’s a great place to watch baseball.  Tonight, I’ll do a little work on my chapter three outline, watch some Sunday night baseball on ESPN, and enjoy the pizza that should be delivered shortly.  A good weekend.  Michigan tomorrow.

Saturday Recap:http://detroit.tigers.mlb.com/mlb/gameday/index.jsp?gid=2012_07_14_detmlb_balmlb_1&mode=recap&c_id=det#gid=2012_07_15_detmlb_balmlb_1&mode=recap&c_id=det

Sunday Recap:

http://detroit.tigers.mlb.com/mlb/gameday/index.jsp?gid=2012_07_15_detmlb_balmlb_1&mode=recap&c_id=det#gid=2012_07_15_detmlb_balmlb_1&mode=recap&c_id=det

 

Excited for Michigan

“I’m from here!”

I’m getting very excited now to get back to Michigan.  It’ll be fun to spend the weekend in Baltimore watching Tigers games, but I’m really anxious now to see Brandy and the girls.  It makes it hard to focus on any work.  I read only the first two acts of Much Ado.  I’ll finish up the last three acts at some point before I see the production in Stratford.  I might even wait until Stratford to finish.  Stratford is a great place to just sit on a bench by the river and read Shakespeare.  The only problem there, though, is that Much Ado is the first play that I see upon arriving in Stratford.  Hmmm….  I guess that idea won’t work so well after all.

I’m at the Library of Congress now.  I went and listened this morning to Peggy O’Brian speak at the Folger to the TSI institute.  I’ve always hoped to participate in one of those, but never had the opportunity, at least not yet.  This morning, though, gave me a taste of what the institute would feel like.  The participants appeared very satisfied with the program and happy.  The institute had done a strong job building community amongst them.  I’m sitting here now, though, working on downloading more texts, the 1871 Furness Variorum, all twenty volumes.  This afternoon, I’ll continue working on downloading more of the Hudson texts.  It’s frustrating that I don’t have access to this back home, so I feel as though I’m now just grabbing indiscriminately all that I can because I’m not sure what exactly will be useful to chapter three.  Over the winter I’ll keep a list of texts that I’d like but can’t find elsewhere so that I can be more targeted next time I’m working at a partner institute to Haithi Trust.

Once this set of downloads finishes, I’m heading to the post office to mail a few things up to Kotlik that I don’t want to carry with me to Michigan, and then after that off to lunch.  I’ll be back here this afternoon and tonight I pack things up and get ready to leave first thing Saturday morning.

 

Finishing Up

Saturday will be my last day in Washington DC.  Part of me is very anxious to get back to Michigan and see friends and family and spend the rest of the summer relaxing.  Another part of me, though, is careful not to waste my last two days here.  There’s still much that can be accomplished.  Think how valuable two days here will seem later this winter after six months in Kotlik scrounging for sources.

I did run across a treasure trove last night working at the Library of Congress.  I found dozens of Rolfe school editions of Shakespeare for chapter three that were downloadable from HaithiTrust, but only if you were connected through the Library of Congress (or another partner institution).  I could have looked at, but never downloaded those from Alaska.  I couldn’t have done it from Blythe or Michigan for that matter.  These texts will prove valuable this fall as I continue to work on chapter three.  Tonight I plan to search for similar Hudson texts that I hope to be able to find.  I wish I had this level of access from Alaska.

This afternoon, I’ll work in the LOC Rare Book Room, finishing up a few specific things for chapter two that I hadn’t done yet.  That will be good to do.  It’s the type of detail work that I enjoy, though it can also be tedious if you’re not in the right mindset.  I’m looking up some specifics about John Walker’s readers and also a couple of very specific questions about Hillard and McGuffey that shouldn’t take long, but are important nonetheless in terms of the thoroughness of my work.

I spent some time yesterday during lunch shopping for a few souveniers to take back home.  I mostly bought things for the girls, but did get a few things for others too.  There are a few other items that I think I’d like to get, and I’ll do a little more shopping tomorrow afternoon as well if I can find the time.

It’s been a great and productive time in DC.  I’ve really enjoyed my visit and feel that I got refreshed after the long winter in Alaska, and also made some strong headway in my dissertation work.  I’m content right now.

 

Wrong!

I certainly could not have been more wrong about the All-Star game than I was last night.  Justin Verlander got murdered in the first inning, giving up five runs, his worst performance probably in his entire career.  The NL went on to beat the AL 8-0 and I don’t think either Fielder or Cabrera got a hit.  Cabrera, in fact, bounced into a double play in his first at bat.  Yuck!  Oh well.  The Tigers won’t get home field advantage now if they make it to the World Series, but at least the game doesn’t count against their overall record.  I’m still confident the Tigers will bounce back and have a great second half and win the AL Central, though I’ve been wrong before.

I moved on this morning to reading Shakespeare’s Much Ado today.  I’ve read the play several times, but in getting ready for my upcoming Stratford trip in two weeks, I wanted to re-read it.  I also wanted to continue on my journey through American Shakespeare editorship, and am now reading from Richard Grant White’s edition.  It was printed just after the Civil War in 1865 and is considered by Westfall to be the first American edition of Shakespeare that was not essentially a copy of an English edition.  White is also in the opposite camp as Hudson, and purposely avoids aesthetic criticism in his editions, which he calls, much to the agitation of Rolfe, “sign-post criticisim” for which he has “no sympathy” (53, Studies in Shakespeare).  Also unlike Hudson, he includes no footnotes, but instead an appendix of endnotes after each play.  The notes do feel different from Hudson’s.  They are less interested in the sense of different words, and more in the specifics of the words.  I’m still grasping a bit for a good working definition of aesthetic criticism.  I think that might be next my adventure as I set down Much Ado after the first act.  I’ll finish it tomorrow and Friday before leaving Saturday for Baltimore.