Timon of Athens (Seattle Shakespeare Company 2018)

A palatable addition to a completionist's checklist, this Timon of Athens offers some fun reminders that even Shakespeare's rarely-done plays have fresh human foibles in them. However, it also sheds some light on why this play isn't often done. Ultimately, I'm glad I saw it and saw it here. But I wouldn't seek out Timon again unless I'm balancing it with something else, or a sharp new perspective, for a more coherent meditation on "Altruism: Isn't It A Tragedy".

The best thing about this production was its breezy, interesting design. The movable set kept things moving... literally and in fun, creating different Greek homes and vibrant settings. The bright, simple and clear costumes allowed for easy understanding, and the lighting worked to bring things together into an enjoyable, entertaining evening for discovering an obscure play.

In a strong hint, hint to the company's perspective on theme, the lead actor gave a short meta monologue to elaborate on power. The politicians, wealthy aristocrats, lowly servants, soldiers and hermits are well-situated to play out interesting developments of this theme. But these threads seemed to get dropped a bit too often, which may be no fault of the company grappling with a historically difficult, experimental script.

It ended up puzzling me most what to make of this Timon's take on power. Early on, she's played as hedonistic, if apparently straightforward in her bankruptcy-inducing generosity. It's difficult to place how this person has ever existed in this world. She's framed as well-established and unsustainable; hedonistic and somehow selfless; a native among the aristocrats yet also shocked by them; capable of deadly cynicism and yet completely guileless. Maybe this contrast is the point, but confusion over her motives made it hard to sympathize. Is she reveling in the power of wealth? Why, then, is she so different from every other wealthy elite in the same boat? Maybe if we saw Timon as an outsider in personality, background, origins, experience, or even values, it would shed light on this character. Otherwise the proceedings seem absurd, or at least Greek tragedy-level in their melodramatic mood swings. When King Lear trusts his daughters in old age, we get it. I wish I got Timon.

Even the very talented cast at Seattle Shakespeare Company, with delightful moments of humor and drama, struggled to strike a balance between that grand tragedy feel and the naturalistic, nuanced language the Bard is more famous for. Characters aren't exactly one-note, but when they get on a note in this script, they sure do sing it loud and long. The human moments shine, but are too far between in what amounts to, admittedly, a Lear testing-ground.

Take a look out of curiosity. This is a fun, fast production, if not as redeeming of an obscure play as I'd like (as the wonderful Pericles was last summer). If you find a version that sets off a lightbulb over your head, please let me know.

'Caesar' in the parks - how should people protest?

 For the 2017 New York City Shakespeare-in-the-Park summer production of Julius Caesar, Caesar was portrayed as a figure like our current administration's Republican leader. Because Caesar is assassinated, there are a variety of conservative objections, protests, and corporate sponsors dropping their support of the Public Theater. Commentators have asked, wouldn't there also be objections if artists staged such mock violence against liberal leaders?

As many sharp-eyed Shakespeareans have pointed out, there was in fact a production of Caesar with the title character styled as Democratic president, Barack Obama. I happened to catch this production on tour in 2012. It was a striking production that didn't rouse any picket lines. But whether liberals actually protested that play or not (and the fact Shakespeare's classics are nuanced, often re-purposed, and hardly ever one-dimensional) sidesteps a chance at an honest and fair discussion of the heart of the matter.

It doesn't take much to find actual, frequent, lively liberal protests of conservative speech, artists, or shows, which makes the defense of "free speech, allow art to be art!" - which I myself feel inclined to! - sound hypocritical.

Do we only disagree on substance? I have to ask myself. Is something else going on?

The real question is, (1) How do we want people to protest, knowing that we won't always agree with why they're protesting? and (2) How do we want people to make art, knowing we won't always agree with the art?

I've touched on principles for ideal vs. non-ideal agents before and it is apt right now. This is the idea that when we make rules for society, it's not enough to rely only on the 'right' people interpreting those rules. You have to account for fallible people who will be both citizens and officials, and a society where not everyone agrees. If you say...

"Only ban highly objectionable art/speech."

• What if we disagree about what's objectionable? We can't just cross our fingers that everyone will have 'right ideas' and agree with us.
• What's the worst case if that art/speech is present anyway? In a public park? In a private venue? Directed at the subject online or shouted in person? Maybe we can ask "who is harmed", what recourse the subject has for defense, and compare not just this instance, but the strongest cases, especially how the same principle applies to substance with which we agree and disagree... 
• Is the speaker/artist in a position of power/authority? What are the greatest consequences that could be envisioned?
• What about respecting a private individual who attempts to limit exposure to certain content in their personal life? In their child's life? Should they and can they? How does that balance against expression?
• And of course- there's many a provocative subject. I love stage combat but consider myself a pacifist; I'm concerned about what lessons and metaphors are found in a violent story and whether they ring true with me. I love freedom of expression but I'm concerned about things like promoting a culture of aggression. Who decides what's allowed, and at what level? At what point - and here's an age-old debate - does provocative cross the line into dangerous? At what point do speakers/artists view themselves as bearing some responsibility? What if those who offend, provoke, enrage, just don't care?

If you say...

"Only protest objectionable art/speech."

• What rules would we want protesters to abide by, whether we agreed with them on the substance or not?
• What rules would we want corporate sponsors to abide by in allocating or withdrawing their dollars, whether we agreed with them on the merits of the art/speech or not? 
• Is it reasonable to allow market forces to determine what artists/speech has a platform?
• Is it reasonable to allow majority votes to determine what artists/speech has a platform?
• Is it reasonable to allow protests to determine what artists/speech has a platform?
• Are there limits? Exceptions? Principles we want the "other side" to abide by?

I am much, much more interested in each person tackling these questions than in hammering my own opinions on this. I believe to my core we're going to get to better answers and results as a society by everyone really asking this of themselves and others, trying to work it out, listening, taking into account great points, continuing to refine. If there are important differences between one protest, objection, speech, art, political correctness/incorrectness, we have to be able to articulate those differences in terms of more than just "when I do it, it's OK". Let's have these discussions. Let's be mindful that a reliable way to lose someone's good faith fast is to appear to want rules that only apply when they benefit me.

Bring Down The House (Henry VI, Seattle Shakespeare Company 2017)

It will come as no surprise that this all-female mashup of Henry VI Parts I, II & III (the War of the Roses, source material for Game of Thrones) was a hit with me. It's Shakespeare, politics, action, intrigue, and moments of movement with dancelike potency - all with a cast of powerful, versatile women.

It was head-spinning seeing this play twice between January-February 2017. In six weeks, the public stage of national politics seemed to convulse and shudder as if giving birth to Richard III. In these plays, figures like Henry VI are almost written as caricatures, with both beauty of language and highlighted humanity thrown into sharp relief, their actions abstracted to their most memorable arcs and tableaus. It felt familiar, as our current political parties cast each other in what often seems like real-time historical fiction. 

In the world of the stage, it's an enjoyable and almost therapeutic experience to get shaken up by the humanity, humor and heartache in Shakespeare even as the drama plays out. This production uses simple sets, dramatic lighting, an abstracted chorus, and fights intercut with stylized taiko drumming. In between this exciting and intuitively understandable action, human moments emerge where the talented actresses shine in touching the heart of the matter, underneath it all.

Commentary on the roles of women was unavoidable, but while opportunities were not missed to use the dialogue, most telling was the simple fact of exemplary performances in every role. When a character makes a side comment that women are capable of ruling, but they put up with a lot of shit, there are 18 women in the process of knocking out a war saga with virtuosity (often literally, knocking over set pieces) - no more needs be said. 

Most striking was actually the commentary on war. Using dancer's grace to portray brutal acts abstracted into mesmerizing rote, this production gave a weighty universality to battle scenes. A father finding he had slain his son, and a son finding he had slain his father, were played by the same two actresses, hold each other in their arms. In a split second they change between who is dead, and who is alive. More partners appear around the stage, repeating the same motions in beats of the drum, giving the impression the same scene has played out hundreds of times in a few minutes across the civil war.

Many blockbusters try and don't succeed as well in giving their combat such memorable, epic moments. But clearing away that noise and boiling it down to human moments accomplished much more.

The plays run through March 12, in two parts - marathon performances are almost sold out. It's great news a daring, appealing project like this found such traction - I would love to see more like it.

"Shakespeare explains the 2016 election"

Starting a discussion of political speech with the curious high schoolers in a production of Julius Caesar, that extended to an after school class on art, ethics and society 2007-2008, was a serendipitous intersection of my fascination with art and politics.

This timely article would have been a perfect topic. Here, reading a Shakespeare hit gives insight into the human foibles that can leave their mark on a country:

"Shakespeare explains the 2016 election" - New York Times October 8, 2016

The Winter's Tale review - Seattle Shakespeare Company 2016

The tone of Winter's Tale shifts so drastically from beginning to end, you'd be forgiven for remembering this one as two different plays. But SSC has staged a highly enjoyable unified vision. With magical touches echoing Midsummer Night's Dream but not quite as tightly woven, this lesser-known play is nonetheless filled with striking female leads, beautiful imagery and characters you should get to know; SSC is supremely skilled at introducing them whether you know them or not.

Review of Titus Andronicus (Seattle Shakespeare Company 2016)

Quentin Tarantino would be proud of this young guy Shakespeare. From the "previews" that roll before the show opens, to every bloody beat of the play, Seattle Shakespeare Company cheerfully plays out the raw human fascination with sex and violence that spans from Greek tragedies to modern grindhouse movies. There are few missed chances to enjoy that visceral feeling in SSC's 2016 production of Titus. Though it may push to the edge of disquiet with its morbid cheerfulness, I'm of the opinion that only makes it better. Ultimately, this is a version that is all about bloody entertainment a la Kill Bill.

Review of Macbeth (2015 film)

I'm a wild fan when it comes to Shakespeare, the kind of fan that buys the action figures and bookbags and grins like an idiot at the most random obscure quotes. I anticipate movie versions with a personal excitement that surpasses Star Wars, Marvel, and Lord of the Rings. I'm happy to recommend the best examples of why I love it, why people of all ages should love it and everyone should get on the Shakespeare train. The "franchise" is resilient to anything that can be thrown at it. But there are times I'm left thinking, if only they'd done this version differently... if only so I could recommend it more widely.