Saturday 16 July 2011

A Lock on Shylock

Half a day on Shakespeare with the school director, known to many as the Prince of Darkness for his harsh and abrupt criticism of student performances. I saw him in action on my First Course, when students were lucky to get out more than four lines before he interrupted with an occasionally encouraging, but usually devastatingly critical, comment on their performance. I got off lighter than most, my two memories being (a) told that rocking backwards and forwards was a sign of nervousness, which indeed it was, and (b) asked to make my speech (Claudius' attempts to cajole Hamlet out of his mood - 'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature...') more sympathetic, which I apparently managed to do.

Today the PoD is in more benevolent mood - apart from the occasional flash of anger when one of us makes a noise or a whisper that indicates we are not giving the class our full attention - and the students are, on average, both better prepared and more talented than before. There are some good performances - from Hamlet, Othello, Richard III and others. Occasionally the PoD gives advice on technique - speak louder, enunciate less - but his primary concern is to throw light on a character's background and relationship with others in the play, in the hope that the actor will instinctively, rather than intellectually, deepen and round out their performance.

By chance or design, I am last to be chosen. My speech is Shylock's response to Antonio, when the latter asks to borrow money on Bassanio's behalf (see below). I had originally chosen it for the First Course, but decided it was too easy - the primary tone is sarcasm - and had switched to Claudius' speech. I did not have the patience to learn another text for this course, and so I revised the words on my way too and from the school each day.

The speech, it seemed, became more difficult than less, as increasing familiarity revealed alternative approaches to each line. Should my final words "and for these courtesies / I'll lend you thus much moneys" be spoken mockingly or in anger? quietly or in raised voice? How great a pause should there be between "for suff'rance is the badge of all our tribe" and "you call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog"?  And so on. I became less, rather than more, certain of my performance. I was tempted to watch again the film where Al Pacino turns in an impeccable performance (and overcomes the director's occasional mutilation of the text), but I wanted to make this speech my performance, not his. In the end I decided that my best approach was downplay the importance of the class in my mind and let what happen happen. I became so laid back that when my mind occasionally wandered as others gave their pieces, I was not panicked by the fact I seemed to have forgotten half the text. Then I was called forward, and Something Happened.

I have a vague memory of announcing which speech I would give, and of declaring that Milt the Builder would be my Antonio, and then, it seems, I disappeared. There was someone in that room, reminding Antonio of the insults he had been subject to, demonstrating his surprise that the merchant had come to borrow money, and wondering aloud how to respond to that request, but that person was Shylock, not me. Yes, there were brief moments when I looked out of Shylock's eyes and noticed that this man's body had moved a little closer to Antonio to make his point, or saw that others sitting on either side of the merchant were entranced by Shylock's words, but for most of the Jew's speech, John Heminges did not exist. Only at the end, as Shylock turned away, his gesture expressing disgust at the hypocrite who had come to ask for money, did I become fully conscious that Something Wonderful had happened and I had given a performance that had silenced the room.

As I came back into the room, the PoD gestured me to my seat and told me that between the first time he had seen me and the speech I had just given, I had become an Actor; I had given a performance so good that there was nothing he could add. And as my eyes focused on the class around me, and became aware of the strange sensation in my gut and mind, I knew that he was right, that Shylock had indeed been present in the room.

It was a weird sensation, which lasted to the end of the day - and which carried me through the mess that was our first rehearsal of The Odd Couple (about which I will write tomorrow) and long into the evening. I was both elated and drained. In an earlier post I compared acting to sex, but this sensation was so much more. Sex is about physical sensation, and too that we often add emotion, but acting - or at least the few minutes this afternoon in which John Heminges became Shylock the Jew - is physical and emotional and intellectual sensation all rolled into one. It is both the complete sublimation of the personality and it is the personality expanded and fulfilled. It is... At which point I have to stop, because the more I have to explain it, the less clear the explanation becomes.

All I can say is my last doubts have disappeared. This is something I want to do, I can do, I must do, I will do....

Signior Antonio, many a time and oft
In the Rialto you have rated me
About my moneys and my usances:
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug,
For suff’rance is the badge of all our tribe.

You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog,
And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine,
And all for use of that which is mine own.

Well then, it now appears you need my help:
Go to, then; you come to me, and you say
'Shylock, we would have moneys:' you say so;
You, that did void your rheum upon my beard
And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur
Over your threshold.

                             Moneys is your suit
What should I say to you? Should I not say
'Hath a dog money? is it possible
A cur can lend three thousand ducats?'
                                                     Or
Shall I bend low and in a bondman's key,
With bated breath and whisp’ring humbleness, Say this;
'Fair sir, you spit on me on Wedn’sday last;
You spurn'd me such a day; another time
You call'd me dog; and for these courtesies
I'll lend you thus much moneys'?

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