Two down, one to go.

I am really excited to be able to report that we are now down to just one Shakespeare play that we have not seen on stage.  That’s Henry VIII still outstanding. The RSC seems to be including The Two Noble Kinsmen as having sufficient of Shakespeare’s writing to count, but we haven’t decided what to do about that, yet.

This weekend we bagged Cymbeline and Pericles Prince of Tyre. Last summer at the Globe we decided to check what was going to be on at the Jacobean indoor theatre during the winter – it’s officially the Sam Wannamaker Playhouse – and were thrilled to discover that they were putting on a series of Shakespeare’s late romances.

We saw Cymbeline first and Pericles the next day; we enjoyed Pericles more. They are similar in lots of ways – unlikely plots, amazing coincidences, people reviving from apparent death, separations, near miraculous reunions, lost and found daughters – and in changes of tone, from near pantomime to deeply emotional. But we felt that Pericles was the better production.  The first two acts of Pericles are by George Wilkins, and you can hear when Shakespeare takes over and the verse suddenly becomes much more flexible. Wilkins is tum ti tum ti tum.

It was really interesting seeing how the indoor theatre worked, too. It’s even more uncomfortable than the Globe, and I shouldn’t think that there’s a single seat from which you can see all the action all the time. There is a little light coming in from the windows, but they are in the corridor round the actual theatre space, and so it’s not much, especially in winter, and there are shutters if they want to completely darken the theatre.  There are six large chandeliers which can be raised and lowered, almost to the floor if necessary, and candles in sconces on the pillars around the playing space. They use beeswax candles, you can tell by the smell, and therefore the light is brighter than you might expect, with a lovely golden glow, and no smoke. Occasionally the candles have to be trimmed or relit after being quenched and the stage hands and cast are remarkably quick, efficient and unobtrusive. No doubt they have special “candle training”. 

 Sometimes the theatre is darkened and an actor uses a sconce with a couple of candles, held in one hand, to illuminate their face. I’m surprised no one has set fire to their wig! They also use a pearly make up at times, which apparently is authentic. I dread to think what they used to get the pearly effect in the very early seventeenth century. I have a sinking feeling that it was probably mercury.

It was all quite an experience. I couldn’t help thinking of the woman, Ruth someone, who does Victorian, and earlier, reconstructions on television. I remember her saying what a help the corset was in supporting her back for a lot of the jobs she had to do, and for the sitting up straight. (Not, of course, if you try for an eighteen inch waist.)  Anyway, I’m thinking of getting myself some authentic stays before our next visit to the playhouse.