#note: just go completely wild with Fresh' speech pattern

[fairy-verse]

In the past the plans with Error being in a relationship was kinda up in the air, I think Blue or Fresh were mentioned? (I don't remember) what happened exactly to choose the sneaky/free spirit/blood hungry Ink as Error's companion?

That is quite simple, dearest anon, because Ink and Error’s relationship would be open and not restricted to just them. It is what works best when it comes to Ink because he is indeed such a free spirit and it is just not in his nature to settle down in one place for too long, but he wouldn’t wish for Error to feel abandoned and neglected, so he was the one to propose an open relationship, one where Error can find someone else he might love and cherish, too. Ink has a way of growing fond of anyone, so someone good enough for Error will surely gain his favour as well.

That someone might just be – and I quote from Error – an ‘annoying and persistent parasitic fairy who speaks in riddles and tongues and won’t leave me the fuck alone’. Fresh is a jester through and through, and although none knows from whence he came, it is clear that it is somewhere on the mainland, so he’s seen and experienced much and more. The island was just a new place for him to see, a new place to find another body and a new place where he would inevitably grow fond of a prickly ice queen who hates his riddles and throws insults at him.

Fresh: “Hehehe, mine bones once stolen tickles and pricks in pain and pleasure. What a proud and bewitching fairy thy queen of ice is.”

Ink: “Haha! I like your funny words!”

Error does not yet realise the doom he’s about to experience once Ink and Fresh become just as close to each other as they are with him, and their japes and ridiculous jests will drive him up the wall! But… the heart grows fonder.

[schmergo]

The Winter’s Tale at American Shakespeare Center: Informal Review

It’s less than two weeks until auditions for the production of The Winter’s Tale that I’m directing this summer, so my friend and I went down to the American Shakespeare Center in Staunton last weekend to get some inspiration and get hyped… and it worked! Ever since, I’ve felt compelled to write one of my little informal reviews, so here goes!

If you’ve never been to ASC, first of all, you should. It’s my favorite place to see Shakespeare’s plays in the entire world. They’re this little recreation of Shakespeare’s indoor Blackfriars Playhouse (fancy people saw shows there in winter months in London), a cozy and intimate place that replicates Renaissance traditions like keeping the lights on through the show and using a small ensemble of actors to play multiple roles. But just because they take Shakespeare seriously doesn’t mean they take themselves seriously. Their shows are always fun, energetic, pleasantly irreverent, and full of creative little surprises in staging. They always pull out the spirit of the show. Another thing that they do is incorporate lots of music into the shows—they present a lively preshow and intermission mini-concert featuring the talented troupe of actors playing instruments and singing folksy renditions of contemporary tunes. My favorite this time was “Mr. Brightside,” sung by the actor who played  King Leontes. For those unfamiliar with The Winter’s Tale… well, that song is extremely fitting for Leontes’ state of mind.

The Winter’s Tale is—there’s no doubt about it—one of Shakespeare’s weirder plays. One part tense psychological drama and one part comedic pastoral romance separated by a 16-year time gap, it somehow all comes together in the end with a magical, intensely moving family reunion. I used to dislike this show, and I still think that on paper, it’s not Shakespeare’s best work, but seeing an imaginative production at the Folger Shakespeare Library the other year was a revelation to me: this show could be unbelievably powerful to watch if acted by passionate actors who are truly absorbed in their characters journeys without winking. As one character, Paulina, says in the play’s final act, “It is required that you awake your face.” Even the smallest shred of cynicism can shatter the delicate illusion that Shakespeare creates in The Winter’s Tale. Its plot is as fragile, intricate, and impractical as a Faberge egg.

I’ve seen six productions of The Winter’s Tale. Four of them only reinforced my snarky feelings about it. The Folger’s reimagined, highly original take on it was a breath of fresh air. ASC’s was different. It completely captured and reflected Shakespeare’s play for better AND worse, without doing any rewriting or reorganizing to cover up some of the play’s more awkward moments. It was unapologetic and authentic. All in all, it was emotionally exhilarating yet messy.

The story goes thusly: King Leontes of Sicilia is hosting his best friend, King Polixenes of Bohemia, for a long stay at his palace when he suddenly begins to suspect that his wife, Queen Hermione, has been cheating with his bestie. This is especially worrisome because Hermione is pregnant. Although she is actually totally innocent, Leontes’ paranoia spirals out of control until he tears apart his own family and destroys multiple lives—yet lost family members sometimes come back in the most unexpected way.

The final scene of the play, when done well, is a transcendent moment that brings tears to the most jaded eyes. I always judge a production’s Leontes—and, really, the production itself—on whether that final scene feels deserved, whether I want that happy family reunion for the penitent king. ASC’s Ronald Roman-Melendez completely delivered. I wanted his happy ending so badly that my heart was pounding.

               Roman-Melendez took a surprisingly long time to fully inhabit his character, however. In Act 1, he struggled a little with Leontes’ fragmented speech, sometimes seeming not to understand when Leontes’ phrases change direction. Some lines came out disappointingly Shatnerian. “Oh boy, this’ll be a long night,” I thought glumly, anticipating four more acts of this. But I needn’t have worried. When Leontes’ madness hit its full pitch in Act 3, Roman-Melendez crafted an incredibly complex portrait of conflict, sleep deprivation, rage and mental disorientation that was so believable that it was scary—and pitiable. After the play’s time skip, he beautifully reflected the passing of sixteen years of guilt, grief, and pious contemplation, his eyes sad but his voice warm. Leontes is, in my opinion, one of the most challenging roles ever written by Shakespeare,  and even the most talented actors often don’t seem to get it. Roman-Melendez is one of the few actors I’ve seen who seem to understand that Leontes’ tyranny is not an expression of strength. He craves control only because he’s completely out of control.

               As Leontes’ queen Hermione, Ally Farzetta resembles a Renaissance painting of the virgin Mary, with beautiful long dark hair, pensive features, and a halo-like headdress that seems to hint at her virtuous nature. Her Hermione is both playful and elegant, gentle yet strong. When she tells us in Act 2 that she is not prone to weeping as many of her sex are, it’s not bragging but overly naïve: she has no idea what kind of horrors will befall her. When she later appears bedraggled at her public trial, too soon after childbirth, her husband resolutely facing away from her, she cries.  I cried with her. Farzetta doubles delightfully as a ditzy shepherdess named Mopsa before a stirringly emotional turn in Act 5.

               The most powerful player in the ensemble was unquestionably Annabelle Rollison, who plays Leontes’ sharp-tongued advisor, Paulina. This may be a little unfair because Paulina is probably the coolest character in the play, with daring one-liners like “It is a heretic that makes the fire, not she that burns in it,” but Rollison takes a role that could be a one-note ‘strong female character’ and makes her utterly real: proud, emotional, manipulative, loving, devastated, hopeful, and much more. Her words feel like a punch in the gut half the time and an encouraging arm around the shoulders the other half the time. She commands the stage in every scene with a confident, stately bearing. (Her shepherdess character is even goofier than Ally Farzetta’s. The character’s name is Dorcas. That’s all you need to know.)

               Topher Embrey stole every scene as the adorably gullible Shepherd’s Son, an overgrown child with a sunny disposition and a fondness for the ukulele. Embrey plays the Shepherd’s Son (aka Clown) as unaware of his own strength to hilarious effect and, with his warm voice and wide eyes, is one of the most lovable lugs you’ll ever see. No wonder the two shepherdesses squabble so much over him—that and the fact that he carries more money than is good for him.

As young lovers Perdita and Prince Florizel, Constance Swain and Josh Clark show strong chemistry and energy and wonderful dance skills, as wild and free as you’d expect Bohemian revellers to be. They’re a treat to watch, yet I couldn’t help but feel some elements of their characterization could have been more carefully calibrated. Swain’s Perdita, though utterly lovely, came across as more 'manic pixie dream girl' than regal, no matter how much other characters commented that she seemed too great for her humble surroundings. Clark’s Florizel was a hair more petulant and irritable than I’d like to see in the impulsive poet-Prince.

The rest of the ensemble was good, though some characters (especially wise advisor Camillo) made less of an impression than I'm used to seeing. The energetic Madeline Calais failed to entertain as the mischievous peddler and scam-artist Autolycus, but that's not exactly her fault-- I've never found that character amusing in any of the productions I've seen. The scenes featuring Autolycus dragged even with the presence of audience favorite Topher Embrey.

Jessica Van Essen's sumptuous costumes enhanced every scene. She dressed Sicilia's royals and courtiers in formal Renaissance garb, with Leontes decked out in regal purple, while creating colorful costumes for the foreign land of Bohemia that seemed equally inspired by traditional Turkish, Ukrainian, and Bavarian dress. Plenty of flower crowns, silk jackets, intricate patterns, and a cool turban for Kenn Hopkins' commanding King Polixenes. In Act 5, Leontes appeared in a huge fur cape that seemed to represent the weight of sorrows heaped upon his shoulders.

Special effects were simple, as is common at ASC, but well-timed thunder sounds were often used to dramatic effect. The famous bear, simply played by an actor in furry costume, was nonetheless effective, both brutal and darkly comedic. One more modern touch included an automated pedestal that glided out across ASC's stage in the play's final scene-- a departure from the usual low-tech staging conventions, but magical enough to fit seamlessly into the play. "If this be magic, let it be an art as lawful as eating." I sobbed through the final scene.

Though this may not have been a perfect production of Winter's Tale, it was a wonderful recreation of Shakespeare's charmingly imperfect play. If you get the chance to go down to Staunton, don't miss it!

I can't wait for auditions!