A Midsummer Night's Dream
- Kaitlin E. Jones
- Jun 3, 2016
- 5 min read
It's something of a miracle to get to visit the land of Shakespeare and the location of one of his plays all in the same trip. The miracle becomes even more miraculous when that play happens to be one you are currently designing. Bonus points for it being the right time of year.
A Midsummer Night's Dream is one of William Shakespeare's comedies, a play largely set within a magical forest outside of Athens. A group of young lovers steals away into the forest to escape their impending nuptials, and unwittingly becomes enchanted by a group of feuding fairies. Elsewhere in the forest a group of simpletons attempts to put on a play, a play that will neither frighten nor inspire anyone who views it. None of the mortals ever truly sees the fairies, at least not for what they are. In fact, the only character to have any semi-cognizant interaction with them is just an ass. In my opinion it is one of Shakespeare's most approachable plays: anyone can relate to it. Angsty teens wishing to get back at their parents might relate to the young lovers, practical jokers might relate to Puck's antics, a group of traveling students might relate to the simpletons trying to make their way in an unfamiliar situation without offending anyone.
Our first night in Athens the whole group of us students roamed the icicle light lit streets in search of food and topographical information. Eventually we were harangued into eating at one of the many restaurants lining the streets of the Plaka, Athens' old town. Every manager or business owner along the strip would try their best to cajole you into their establishment, offering us a strange welcome into unfamiliar territory. Accompanying dinner was a woman's proffering of a rose for the sexy boys at the table. Free flowers quickly turn to expensive gifts you know you'll never be able to get through customs. Navigating the streets of Athens day or night turned into a struggle to avoid any street hagglers attempting to steal your coin, either by coercion or force. As far as I know none of us liked it, but we still didn't want to offend anyone.
I was lucky enough to avoid the majority of the cajoling during the Athens portion of our trip, until one night when, you know, I didn't. We were standing in line at what became the most infamous restaurant of our trip (Crepa Crepa), a hole in the wall run by a husband and wife team who cook take away crepes one at a time. Completing an order of approximately 25 crepes for hungry college students takes a while so some of us took over two street tables, and the rest of us stood mesmerized by the sneeze guard watching the food production process. I was gazing at the melting cheese on someone's crepe when a young girl, probably no older than 12, came over carrying individually wrapped roses. "Free flower," she claimed. "For you," she claimed. I would have shrugged her off, but then I realized she was searching for an available pocket on my person in which to place a flower. "It's only one euro," I thought. So before she could put the flower in my pocket I let her put it in my hand instead. "Two euro," she said. It'd be great to say that I was offended, and that I beat the system and chased her off with all of my euros intact. But in reality I was happy to give her the money. She was really good at her job; a fairy messing with us foolish American mortals.
London never seemed as congested as Greece. In fact, one of my favorite things about it is that it's so easy to turn a corner and find a secluded, peaceful park. You'd expect a big, bustling city like London to be loud and obnoxious, but there is so much peace to be found if you just look for it. One of my favorite things to do while on vacation somewhere is to imagine what the place would have looked like at different points in history. In Athens it was pretty easy, you just take away all of the new buildings and the old ones are still hidden away in between the cracks. In London the history seems more layered; more of the buildings are renovated and updated, and the new and old somehow blend seamlessly together. On one of our more tentatively planned days we took a vote to see if we wanted to tour the Globe Theatre as a group. It was a resounding no, but my particular reaction to the idea was like Patsy's reaction to seeing Camelot in Monty Python and the Holy Grail: "It's only a model." I assume the old Globe Theatre burned down, because that's just what theaters do (though I haven't corroborated this statement with history). I do know that not even is it the original Globe Theatre, it's not even the original site. The real one was a few hundred yards down the road. This plays perfectly in to our debate about authenticity: Is the Globe Theatre in London more authentic than a reproduction anywhere else? Like the one in Odessa, perhaps? Both are replicas in arbitrarily placed locations, both are made for performance and study of the Bard. What does location have to do with anything that isn't the original? Okay, the one in London is probably more authentic, but the one in Odessa is closer.
I don't know if Shakespeare ever went to Athens, but I know we've both been to London. It's comforting to have been in the same place as someone so instrumental to what I do for a living. My favorite portions of the trip were the pieces that brought me closer to my job. On this trip that meant seeing the many amphitheaters in Greece (still usable today), and seeing shows on the West End. Shakespeare was doing theatre 400 years ago, and the Greeks were doing it over 2,000 years ago. The buildings may not survive, but I'm glad the practice has.
Before I left a friend and co-worker came into my office and asked me what I was doing this summer. Gleefully, I replied "Just going to Greece and London." (How often do you get to say that?) Now that I'm back, it's time to get to work. As a completely shameless plug I'd like to add that A Midsummer Night's Dream will be performed in the Happy State Bank Studio Theatre on June 19th and 20th, 2016.
*special note: I've used the British version of "theatre" throughout this essay. It's weird and arbitrary (like our language tends to be), but generally more acceptable in my profession. If the term "theater" is used, it is in reference to a building or piece of architecture (for the same totally sane reasons).
Comments