The first thing Posner told us was that he played Oberon in a fourth-grade production of Midsummer, wearing green tights and the torn-up lining of his mother’s coat. Years later, he was inspired to mount the play at the Arden by a friend who told him she would soon be too old to portray Helena; that production was the inaugural show at the Arden’s larger theater and Posner says that he had “the best time of my life” directing that production.
He’s thinking that the Cal Shakes/Two River coproduction will be fairly simple, scenically speaking, with a set by Erik Flatmo (Uncle Vanya, Richard III, TheatreWorks’ Radio Golf), lighting by Russell H. Champa (Pericles, Man and Superman, Berkeley Rep’s The Pillowman), and—new to Cal Shakes—Serbian costume designer Olivera Gajic, who recently did Midsummer at the Prague Quadrennial.
Posner is adamant that, “more so than any other writer, Shakespeare got that every day and every scene needs to have the capacity for wonder and amazement.” He says that the line “Lord what fools these mortals be” is central to his thinking about the play. “Shakespeare must have been in a pretty good mood when he wrote Midsummer, as he’s looking at all of these very broken people, and just lovin’ them.”
“My intuition is to go straight at it; full of love, amazement, hope, and magic. Not to get too Obama about it, but there’s a sense of optimism around.”
There is darkness in Midsummer, of course, and Posner doesn’t want to shy away from that. He cites a production of the play he saw in 1970s Eugene wherein Puck was played as a devilish satyr: “Cute pucks have since driven me a little crazy”; Loki in Norse mythology and the coyote in Native American lore are more his kinds of Pucks. “Because the world gets screwed up, you have to have someone who’s responsible for that.”
As Posner likes the idea of mythology lurking around the corners of everyday life, he says that the fairies in our Midsummer might only be implied—tiny, invisible sprites interacting with the actors. He also likes the idea of Titania and Oberon’s relationship straddling the line between royalty and “regular” marriage. “When the leadership is at odds, everyone beneath it suffers.”
Since the fairies may only be implied, the music and sound are the biggest question, still. Since Posner is firm that (referring to the fairies’ song) “no one should really be allowed to speak the word ‘philomel,’” he is playing with the idea of a mystical version of Sirius satellite radio. If Titania and/or Oberon could call up whatever music they wanted, whenever, they could just as easily conjure “Dvorak, Aimee Mann, Sinatra, or ‘The Ride of the Valkyries’” from the air as they could a bunch of trilling sprites; they could also turn it down or off, or change it as they desire, just as a human couple might do in the heat of argument.
Posner is currently working on an adaptation of Cyrado de Bergerac, a work that he says, like Midsummer, “leaves you wanting to live your life more fully.” Ultimately, the director says, he’d like the audience to walk out of the Bruns suffused with “optimistic delight.”
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2 comments:
I saw that play in September and thought it was excellent. I think Helena is a bit annoying and you got the point across. I wish she didnt get Demetrius's love in the end, she does not deserve it! He is a jerk and the fairies took pity on her. they should have made helena just find someone who really loves her. or put a spell on her to make her less annoying!
Dear Anon,
Well, many an onlooker has said just what you've said to many a broken-hearted girl about many a young buck. This is one of the most enduring things about love - it can make us crazy, it can make us do things we are ashamed of in the cold light of day, but we keep doing them anyway, because love is also our juice. I don't know whether you have studied or read King Lear yet, but if and when you do, you will notice that as he got older (ten years on from writing Midsummer), Shakespeare became interested in portraits of love as a redemptive force. This redemptive love is just as mysterious as the passionate love - but it is a quieter, deeper essence, it is something that makes us go out of ourselves in a kind-of communion with another person.
This (the redemptive power of love) is why the reunion scene between Lear and his returned young daughter is written in such a religious way, although the play itself rebukes the presence of gods. Lear says to the daugher to whom he has been so cruel, 'If you have poison for me I will drink it. You have some cause,' and the daughter says – and this is the mystery of love – 'No cause, no cause.' So I hope that perhaps this response to Midsummer might make you want to dip into King Lear. (Or you might think, wow, that's a turn-off - I only wanted to complain about Helena!')
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