Shakespeare

Many years ago I directed a production of Twelfth Night with actors aged 7 to 17. After the show, an audience member- someone I knew well- asked in all seriousness how long it had taken me to "translate" the script.

He understood everything being said so well that he assumed I had changed the script.

I hadn't changed the script. The actors, Shakespeare and I had all done our jobs well enough that the audience entered into the world we created together and understood the characters, action and dialogue.

The audience enjoyed the show. They forgot it was Shakespeare. They forgot it was youth. They just had fun watching the comedy.

That's how it should be. Shakespeare is a theatrical genius; just do the *show*, and the audience will have a blast.

And wonder later how long it took you to translate the script from Shakespearean to understandable.

Hell week: day 1

We open one week from yesterday.

Yesterday was the start of hell week for me.

It's Comedy of Errors- sometimes literally!- Shakespeare in the Park, with teen theater troupe. TWO complete casts: one traditionally cast, one all female- except for Dr. Pinch, who is a guy in drag.

The last week of July. A heat wave.

Yesterday was the first day the actors were not allowed to call for line.

Oh, how I dread that long, painful day in the rehearsal process. Doubly dreadful this time, two run throughs, one for each cast.

And, to add to the delight, a storm.

I arrived at the amphitheater to find the storage rooms had flooded. The cement space in front of the stage (we plan to use it for seating) was flooded- three or more inches deep in places.

Joy.

NOT.

We unloaded additional collected props, set up for rehearsal, pulled out what had been soaked to dry.

I set up my director's chair and opened my notebook- and my umbrella.

And, as predicted, it was awful.

But... I actually laughed out loud - at the *play*- in a few places.

There is hope!