I had the chance to chat with Charlene V. Smith, artistic director of Brave Spirits Theatre, and author of What, Lamb! What, Ladybird!
Thursday, May 26, 2016
Sunday, May 15, 2016
What, Lamb! What, Ladybird!: recontextualizing Shakespeare-esque theatre with new plays.
Margo Jones, one of the principal founders of America's regional theatre movement, believed that the best programming would include a mixture of classics and new plays, and it is in that spirit that Bad Quarto Productions is excited to be offering our first production of a new play since 2012: What, Lamb! What, Ladybird! by Charlene V. Smith (who is also the artistic director of Washington DC's Brave Spirits Theatre Co).
Since the primary focus of Bad Quarto tends to be on rarely performed plays of the early modern period, and the versions of the texts that have been marginalized by certain scholars, it might seem a little strange, on the surface, for us to be performing a new play, but there are some very good reasons for it that have nothing to do with the direction of American theatre.
It's easy for us in the 21st century to forget that Shakespeare's plays were once new. Audiences watched them not knowing what was going to happen, or thinking they knew what was going to happen only to have Shakespeare change things up on them (as he did in King Lear, which deviates significantly from the early King Leir). Presenting new, or nearly new plays allows us to recapture some of that original sense of surprise and wonder that Shakespeare's plays had.
But on a more basic level, Bad Quarto Productions is devoted to helping recontextualize Shakespeare: most of us first get to know his plays as sacred works of literature that must, when they are staged, be performed with only the most delicate care and precision. We don't perform them that way, since that's not how Shakespeare and his players would have performed them, Smith's script takes a different approach to recontextualizing Romeo and Juliet: by examining the development of the performance history of the character, as well as contemporary reactions to her, Smith explores the relevance of Juliet's poetic passions in the era of Tinder, and this direct examination is something we haven't done before.
While we don't plan to back away from staging the rarely done works of the English Renaissance, What, Lamb! What, Ladybird! will help us explore those contexts in a way that staging an early modern play cannot.
What, Lamb! What, Ladybird! will perform on July 9, 10, 15, 16 at 8PM and July 17 at 2PM in at Studios 353 in NYC.
Since the primary focus of Bad Quarto tends to be on rarely performed plays of the early modern period, and the versions of the texts that have been marginalized by certain scholars, it might seem a little strange, on the surface, for us to be performing a new play, but there are some very good reasons for it that have nothing to do with the direction of American theatre.It's easy for us in the 21st century to forget that Shakespeare's plays were once new. Audiences watched them not knowing what was going to happen, or thinking they knew what was going to happen only to have Shakespeare change things up on them (as he did in King Lear, which deviates significantly from the early King Leir). Presenting new, or nearly new plays allows us to recapture some of that original sense of surprise and wonder that Shakespeare's plays had.
But on a more basic level, Bad Quarto Productions is devoted to helping recontextualize Shakespeare: most of us first get to know his plays as sacred works of literature that must, when they are staged, be performed with only the most delicate care and precision. We don't perform them that way, since that's not how Shakespeare and his players would have performed them, Smith's script takes a different approach to recontextualizing Romeo and Juliet: by examining the development of the performance history of the character, as well as contemporary reactions to her, Smith explores the relevance of Juliet's poetic passions in the era of Tinder, and this direct examination is something we haven't done before.
While we don't plan to back away from staging the rarely done works of the English Renaissance, What, Lamb! What, Ladybird! will help us explore those contexts in a way that staging an early modern play cannot.
What, Lamb! What, Ladybird! will perform on July 9, 10, 15, 16 at 8PM and July 17 at 2PM in at Studios 353 in NYC.
Monday, April 25, 2016
Who's Behind the Q1 Hamlet Anyway?
Usually, after I've directed one of these "bad quarto" plays, I come away feeling like I have a better sense of how the text was produced. Not like it's an opinion that counts for much, and not like I think my experiences as a director should count for legitimate scholarly evidence, but when someone asks me "so what do you think?" I usually have an answer for them.
With Hamlet I'm stumped.
There are a lot of really good theories out there that sell me on one answer or another, except for that one thing: the Q2 of Hamlet was printed the following year. Nicholas Ling (the N.L. of the title pages) had a hand in both printings, so even the old fashioned stories of corrupt stationers and literary piracy require some X-Files level conspiracy theories about the secret machinations of the Stationers' Company to sell a book that, as Peter W.M. Blayney has demonstrated, would have been a financial gamble in the best of cases.
If we accept that the Q2 text of Hamlet has the closest link to Shakespeare's draft, and I don't think that's an unreasonable assertion, it's hard not to see Q2 as an immediate corrective to Q1. The Arden 3 editors argue that the Folio copy derives from the Q2 copy, and then the Q1 copy derives from the F copy, and if we imagine that Shakespeare, who was also trying to make a name for himself as a literary poet, saw his name appear in print with what he viewed as a deformed copy of his work, he might have felt the need to make a deal with Ling in an attempt to restore his reputation.
But this still doesn't tell us where the Q1 copy came from. Or why Ling would have printed the book a second time when he didn't know the text well enough to raise questions or stop publication the first time around.
Ultimately, Q2 is the best evidence we have for how we should treat Q1: but even then, we can't really be sure that Q2 derives from Shakespeare's manuscript. I think it's plausible that the printing of Q1 sparked Shakespeare's concern with his legacy as a poet, and perhaps inspired him to be the "literary dramatist" that Lukas Erne sees him as, but that's a stretch based, in part, on my feeling that, while Q2 might make for better reading, Q1 actually makes for a better play, and this would be the sole example of Shakespeare taking an active interest in his legacy as a literary playwright.
For all we know, it might have been Ling himself who was disappointed with the Q1 Hamlet, and sought out a better copy text for a subsequent printing. But that depends on Ling, or his readers, being familiar with the stage performance of Hamlet and not finding the printed book faithful enough to the stage production. Which would, in turn, mean that Q1 probably wasn't the version played on stage, but also doesn't explain scene 14, as well as some of the other markers that the Q1 Hamlet derives, at least in part, from some performance text somehow. If someone was memorially reconstructing the play, why bother to invent a scene that collapsed several scenes into one? And what about all the "Os" and "Ahs" that seem to be transcriptions of actors speaking the speech?
Lacking better evidence, I just can't say where Q1 came from. I don't know what it is, and I don't have enough information to venture a guess, and lacking any further evidence, all we can do is suppose.
But there are some things I do know: for everyone who found the Q1 text to be lacking in compared to the conflations they're more familiar with, we've had someone say that this version of the play makes a lot more sense to them; some audience members who had never heard of us or of textual variants before came back to see the show again; and a couple of kids who came to see the play seemed to enjoy it. For all that, I stand by my earlier assessment: the longer texts of Hamlet might make for better literature, but the "bad quarto," at least in terms of its structure, makes for a better play.
Whatever it's origins, I am certainly glad we've had the chance to explore these questions in performance, I am grateful to the company of Hamlet, The First Quarto, and for all of our audience members for making the journey with us.
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| The title page of the 1603 (Q1) Hamlet. |
With Hamlet I'm stumped.
There are a lot of really good theories out there that sell me on one answer or another, except for that one thing: the Q2 of Hamlet was printed the following year. Nicholas Ling (the N.L. of the title pages) had a hand in both printings, so even the old fashioned stories of corrupt stationers and literary piracy require some X-Files level conspiracy theories about the secret machinations of the Stationers' Company to sell a book that, as Peter W.M. Blayney has demonstrated, would have been a financial gamble in the best of cases.
If we accept that the Q2 text of Hamlet has the closest link to Shakespeare's draft, and I don't think that's an unreasonable assertion, it's hard not to see Q2 as an immediate corrective to Q1. The Arden 3 editors argue that the Folio copy derives from the Q2 copy, and then the Q1 copy derives from the F copy, and if we imagine that Shakespeare, who was also trying to make a name for himself as a literary poet, saw his name appear in print with what he viewed as a deformed copy of his work, he might have felt the need to make a deal with Ling in an attempt to restore his reputation.
![]() |
| The title page from the 1604 (Q2) Hamlet. Though the title page is blemished, the date is visible in the bottom-center of the page. |
Ultimately, Q2 is the best evidence we have for how we should treat Q1: but even then, we can't really be sure that Q2 derives from Shakespeare's manuscript. I think it's plausible that the printing of Q1 sparked Shakespeare's concern with his legacy as a poet, and perhaps inspired him to be the "literary dramatist" that Lukas Erne sees him as, but that's a stretch based, in part, on my feeling that, while Q2 might make for better reading, Q1 actually makes for a better play, and this would be the sole example of Shakespeare taking an active interest in his legacy as a literary playwright.
For all we know, it might have been Ling himself who was disappointed with the Q1 Hamlet, and sought out a better copy text for a subsequent printing. But that depends on Ling, or his readers, being familiar with the stage performance of Hamlet and not finding the printed book faithful enough to the stage production. Which would, in turn, mean that Q1 probably wasn't the version played on stage, but also doesn't explain scene 14, as well as some of the other markers that the Q1 Hamlet derives, at least in part, from some performance text somehow. If someone was memorially reconstructing the play, why bother to invent a scene that collapsed several scenes into one? And what about all the "Os" and "Ahs" that seem to be transcriptions of actors speaking the speech?
![]() |
| The title page from the 1605 printing of the Q2 Hamlet. |
But there are some things I do know: for everyone who found the Q1 text to be lacking in compared to the conflations they're more familiar with, we've had someone say that this version of the play makes a lot more sense to them; some audience members who had never heard of us or of textual variants before came back to see the show again; and a couple of kids who came to see the play seemed to enjoy it. For all that, I stand by my earlier assessment: the longer texts of Hamlet might make for better literature, but the "bad quarto," at least in terms of its structure, makes for a better play.
Whatever it's origins, I am certainly glad we've had the chance to explore these questions in performance, I am grateful to the company of Hamlet, The First Quarto, and for all of our audience members for making the journey with us.
Friday, April 8, 2016
Look, There’s Another Horatio!
As an actor partial to Shakespeare and the classics, I find their relevancy in their untamed nature. How better to really “get at” Shakespeare, than to visit his works at their infancy. Perhaps they’re not the words he truly jotted down, but, to be fair, his earliest drafts were probably just as scattered, and the resulting plays greatly improvised.
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| Horatio (Rachel Matuse, center-left) comforts the dying Hamlet (Alex Dabertin, center-right) in Bad Quarto's production of Hamlet. |
Looking at a “Bad” Quarto version of a play is like encountering a puzzle. You have all these clues and pieces, and it’s up to you as an actor or director to correctly decipher. As the gravedigger hurls another scull from Ophelia’s to-be pit, does Hamlet exclaim, “Look, there’s another Horatio,” mocking his friend? Or, “Look, there’s another, Horatio,” simply pointing out the decrepit head? In a style of acting where punctuation is key, the lack thereof is exciting and leaves so much room for interpretation.
If I had a time machine, I certainly could not pick one destination. But a top ten would definitely be witnessing an original production by The Chamberlain’s Men. They were loud; they were gritty; they had clowns and improvisers, men in women’s clothing, live music, and in some cases, animals. There were no electrical light changes, and all soundscapes came from the creativity of their musicians. I think there is great merit to be had in recreating this process today. And what better way than with the earliest edition of the play?
I don’t think I’ve ever been as bonded with an ensemble as I am with my cast of Hamlet. When actors talk about trust, they generally refer to a shared feeling comradery on the stage. “You drop a line? We got your back, buddy.” In this case, the trust is that your entire ensemble will know their lines and cues, and if they don’t, someone will find a way to improvise their way out of a scene in which no one else knows where it could possibly be going. I memorized my part of Horatio on my own, under Tony’s guidance, but once you’re on that stage, you realize you have no idea if the actor your opposite will even say the cue that you’re waiting for. When they do, there is a moment of relief, followed by the quick realization that “Oops, that’s right, it’s my turn to speak! Hope I get this right…”
This process is incredibly challenging, but as the saying goes: With high risk, comes high reward. You cannot be off your game during a performance with Bad Quarto Productions, which only ensures that you have high caliber stage actors, in my opinion. This game is not for everyone. You have to be brave, and reliable, and consistent. I would not trust myself or this performance with any other people than this cast. You must possess a passion for originality and quirk and a spirit that has resilience when a scene completely derails.
In many ways, these productions have given me a better affinity for the work done by Shakespeare’s troupe. Granted, by the time they performed Hamlet, they had been doing several shows in rep—I’ve only worked with a handful of actors in this cast once before. But there’s a market to be had, I think, in another troupe of traveling actors performing on the spot productions written by a brilliant man. Staged in a day, basically improvised opening night. They did it, and now we can recreate (as best we can) that sensation, complete with opening music—but no animals, unfortunately.
I love Shakespeare, and I love well-conceived, thematic presentations of his works. But I also understand that if we dug him up, and asked him what he thought of Shakespeare in the Park’s Romeo and Juliet, he’d probably say, “Wot, lads? You’re still doin’ that shite? I wrote that fo’ me friends and a drunk bunch o’ scallywags.” Except he would not have recognized any of the language I just used. But what I’m getting at is that we’ve put his plays on this pedestal, and as an actor, it’s so refreshing to pull them down and examine them through the eyes of him and his men. It’s fun—and scary—to meet up with your troupe and barely know the play you’re about to perform, but trust that it’s going to be a good one. Because if there’s anyone we can trust in, it’s William Shakespeare.
Friday, April 1, 2016
Youth in Revolt
One of the first things most scholars and editors note that differentiates the first quarto of Hamlet from the second quarto or the Folio is that the first quarto Hamlet is younger than his more well known counterparts. In the first quarto, the gravedigger (1 Clown) describes Yorrick's skull as "a skull hath been here this dozen year," whereas in Q2 that same skull is "a scull now hath lyen you i'th earth 23. yeeres." and in F "this Scul, has laine in the earth three & twenty years." Given that in all cases, Hamlet's says that Yorrick carried him on his back when he was a child, (somewhere between the ages of 5 and 8 probably), we can assume that Q1's Hamlet is in his late teens, whereas the more familiar Hamlet is in his late 20s. And suddenly Hamlet starts making a lot more sense.
In any version of Hamlet, not only the eponymous Dane, but also Leartes, Ofelia, Ro(ssencraft or -zencrantz), and G(ilderstone or -uildenstern) all go through some wild mood swings and make some highly questionable life choices. These all make a lot more sense if they're in their late teens than their late 20s: they have less life experience to draw on period, and their brains are still wired for child-like ways of perceiving the world. They act suddenly and passionately, and their experience of a flawed world clashes with their youthful fantasies, and they kick against that.
It wasn't long after I started thinking of the implications of a youth-driven Hamlet that I started turning to another another great work of youth in revolt for inspiration: The Catcher in the Rye. The more I thought about it, the more Hamlet and Holden seemed to have in common. Both rail against seeming and phoniness, both treat the wisdom of their elders as dubious at best, both are in the company of unreliable friends, and both let their fantasies of perfection be the enemies of good.
In casting Hamlet, The First Quarto I also made the conscious choice to cast the King as the very younger brother of old King Hamlet - this is someone who Prince Hamlet can only view as closer in age to a brother, and lacking in the avuncular authority that someone closer in age to old King Hamlet would implicitly have. The only adults in the room are the Queen, trying to recapture her youth by marrying the younger and less disciplined version of her husband, and Corambis, who though intelligent, struggles with the fogginess of his advancing age.
Everyone in this production of Hamlet is struggling with maturity, and transitioning from one state of being to another: even players have to travel, and not even the dead can rest easy. Again and again I find that the more things change, the more these plays still have the power to speak to us as we and our world changes around us.
In any version of Hamlet, not only the eponymous Dane, but also Leartes, Ofelia, Ro(ssencraft or -zencrantz), and G(ilderstone or -uildenstern) all go through some wild mood swings and make some highly questionable life choices. These all make a lot more sense if they're in their late teens than their late 20s: they have less life experience to draw on period, and their brains are still wired for child-like ways of perceiving the world. They act suddenly and passionately, and their experience of a flawed world clashes with their youthful fantasies, and they kick against that.
It wasn't long after I started thinking of the implications of a youth-driven Hamlet that I started turning to another another great work of youth in revolt for inspiration: The Catcher in the Rye. The more I thought about it, the more Hamlet and Holden seemed to have in common. Both rail against seeming and phoniness, both treat the wisdom of their elders as dubious at best, both are in the company of unreliable friends, and both let their fantasies of perfection be the enemies of good.
In casting Hamlet, The First Quarto I also made the conscious choice to cast the King as the very younger brother of old King Hamlet - this is someone who Prince Hamlet can only view as closer in age to a brother, and lacking in the avuncular authority that someone closer in age to old King Hamlet would implicitly have. The only adults in the room are the Queen, trying to recapture her youth by marrying the younger and less disciplined version of her husband, and Corambis, who though intelligent, struggles with the fogginess of his advancing age.
Everyone in this production of Hamlet is struggling with maturity, and transitioning from one state of being to another: even players have to travel, and not even the dead can rest easy. Again and again I find that the more things change, the more these plays still have the power to speak to us as we and our world changes around us.
Bad Quarto Productions' Hamlet, The First Quarto runs now through April 10th at 353 W. 48th St. in New York. For tickets please visit http://BadQuartoHamlet.bpt.me and for more information please visit http://www.badquarto.org.
Friday, March 18, 2016
Playing Hamlet
Playing
Hamlet is, above all, intimidating. This is an old cliché, but like all of the
oldest clichés, it has stuck to the collective consciousness for a reason: it
is true. Hamlet gives us one of the
most interesting considerations of suicide and the ending of life of any
character in Western literature. Hamlet is
Shakespeare to most. Not as Prospero is William Shakespeare the
artist/magician; rather, Hamlet embodies the struggle between the
self-fashioning philosophies of the Renaissance with the order and heroism of
the Medieval that animates, to my mind, the very heart of Shakespeare’s work.
“What is I?” has always seemed like Shakespeare’s most persistent question, and
Hamlet is that question made flesh
and interesting and dramatic.
How do I embody all that? Obviously I cannot, but I must try.
Most actors get to be supported in this mad, open, painful endeavor by a cast and director they meet in the flesh every day or a few times a week. They get to be grieved and sallied together, and the actor playing Hamlet can let himself be as much of an ensemble member as he is able, which, in my consideration, is the best thing any actor can do. I, on the other hand, must struggle almost alone.
Some romantic teenagers, some Hamlets, out there might think that I am lucky, that my near complete autonomy allows me to find my true Hamlet, a Hamlet more original and more real than any other. Unfortunately, an actor, at least this actor, is not an original creature—we imitate at start and move from there: reacting, pushing, and seeing what happens outside. Completely original emotional fabrication on the part of an actor has a name: “camp.” And Hamlet does the solitary actor no favors. All of Hamlet’s greatest soliloquies (or part soliloquy, depending on what text one uses), are direct reactions to what is happening onstage, and many of Hamlet’s most powerful emotional beats spur forth while he is surrounded, none of which I can practice ahead of time. It is the confusion around him that reflects and feeds his struggle.
Bad Quarto Productions force me to develop my part in a near vacuum and in that way make me work in almost the purest form of theatrical acting. I must first hone my breathing and my mental casting so that I can imagine many possible reactions to my lines and make all of the options supported. I must be aware that I am being observed and try to make myself a dynamic stage presence, and most of all, for Hamlet, I must make sure my images are crystal clear. It is the montage of my mental images, their juxtaposition, order, and duration, which embodies the sole creative portion of my acting process. The rest are following certain rules, at best creatively, yes, but overall line memorization and movement are basically rote activities—as modern convention mostly desires them to be. My mental life, however, is entirely mine, and in a Bad Quarto production, it is almost untainted
This is not a necessarily good thing. While, yes, this autonomy makes me feel good, it does not always mean that I see the forest for the trees, or even that I have seen the trees as they are at all. This monomania is the reason why directors exist, I find. Tony nudges me to look again at the text I am speaking: what is the cadence the verse wants me to use? Should I agree or go against the grain? What is happening? Why does Hamlet say these things? Actors need directors. Young actors need them more.
I have been so influenced by all the Hamlets I have seen, and all the classes I have taken on the Prince…and my own particular biases—such as the fact that my father died when I was very young and so have never really had the feeling Hamlet has, the fact that I sometimes hate men as a rule, particularly when they are cruel to women—that I could not see certain developments in the text. The most important of these interactions was directed around the “nunnery” scene.
I could find nothing but Hamlet’s unnecessary misogynist tirade against Ofelia. I could neither forgive him nor understand him. I almost did not want to. It was at this time that Tony took me by the hand and led me through my trepidation to an understanding that felt much more natural and real than I could before have hoped. That being said, Tony and I disagree sometimes too. Directors also need actors to deflate their own assumptions, too.
Influence has been a problem in another way in this process as well: the undue influence of the Second Quarto and Folio texts of Hamlet. Often I have found myself slipping into the more famous verse rather than the more contradictory lines of our working text. The example that most comes to mind is “that puzzles the will,” rather than “that puzzles the brain and confound the sense.” Easy enough to see why the mind gravitates towards the more common version, but that is no excuse. This textual sensitivity—and the directness of the first quarto—has been a boon, however. I must be more concerned about what the real goal of Hamlet’s words is because I must speak words I do not think of as Hamlet’s. In a way, that makes them more mine than any of my friends’ previous turns as Hamlet.
I have very little more to say about Hamlet. I am still nailing down all of my lines; I am still finding out what I will be when I am on stage; I am still in process. This is a good place to be…but it is terrifying. I want to be so perfectly settled that no one can tell I am human, that would make me feel safe. It would be terrible theater, but I could do my job.
In the end, I will have to be terrified onstage, which, I think and hope, will allow me to touch the most visceral aspect of Hamlet’s life as we see it onstage: his terror and confusion. Hamlet is smarter than pretty much everybody onstage, but too often that translates into him being shown as some Bugs Bunny like infallible being. I do not want that. I want my Hamlet, if nothing else, to be achingly human, afraid, and confused, as I feel he should be. I now can only do the work to make sure that my terror is not hollowly mine but Hamlet’s as well.
![]() |
| Hamlet (Alex Dabertin) prepares to kill the King (John Walbolt) in Bad Quarto's Hamlet |
How do I embody all that? Obviously I cannot, but I must try.
Most actors get to be supported in this mad, open, painful endeavor by a cast and director they meet in the flesh every day or a few times a week. They get to be grieved and sallied together, and the actor playing Hamlet can let himself be as much of an ensemble member as he is able, which, in my consideration, is the best thing any actor can do. I, on the other hand, must struggle almost alone.
Some romantic teenagers, some Hamlets, out there might think that I am lucky, that my near complete autonomy allows me to find my true Hamlet, a Hamlet more original and more real than any other. Unfortunately, an actor, at least this actor, is not an original creature—we imitate at start and move from there: reacting, pushing, and seeing what happens outside. Completely original emotional fabrication on the part of an actor has a name: “camp.” And Hamlet does the solitary actor no favors. All of Hamlet’s greatest soliloquies (or part soliloquy, depending on what text one uses), are direct reactions to what is happening onstage, and many of Hamlet’s most powerful emotional beats spur forth while he is surrounded, none of which I can practice ahead of time. It is the confusion around him that reflects and feeds his struggle.
Bad Quarto Productions force me to develop my part in a near vacuum and in that way make me work in almost the purest form of theatrical acting. I must first hone my breathing and my mental casting so that I can imagine many possible reactions to my lines and make all of the options supported. I must be aware that I am being observed and try to make myself a dynamic stage presence, and most of all, for Hamlet, I must make sure my images are crystal clear. It is the montage of my mental images, their juxtaposition, order, and duration, which embodies the sole creative portion of my acting process. The rest are following certain rules, at best creatively, yes, but overall line memorization and movement are basically rote activities—as modern convention mostly desires them to be. My mental life, however, is entirely mine, and in a Bad Quarto production, it is almost untainted
This is not a necessarily good thing. While, yes, this autonomy makes me feel good, it does not always mean that I see the forest for the trees, or even that I have seen the trees as they are at all. This monomania is the reason why directors exist, I find. Tony nudges me to look again at the text I am speaking: what is the cadence the verse wants me to use? Should I agree or go against the grain? What is happening? Why does Hamlet say these things? Actors need directors. Young actors need them more.
I have been so influenced by all the Hamlets I have seen, and all the classes I have taken on the Prince…and my own particular biases—such as the fact that my father died when I was very young and so have never really had the feeling Hamlet has, the fact that I sometimes hate men as a rule, particularly when they are cruel to women—that I could not see certain developments in the text. The most important of these interactions was directed around the “nunnery” scene.
I could find nothing but Hamlet’s unnecessary misogynist tirade against Ofelia. I could neither forgive him nor understand him. I almost did not want to. It was at this time that Tony took me by the hand and led me through my trepidation to an understanding that felt much more natural and real than I could before have hoped. That being said, Tony and I disagree sometimes too. Directors also need actors to deflate their own assumptions, too.
Influence has been a problem in another way in this process as well: the undue influence of the Second Quarto and Folio texts of Hamlet. Often I have found myself slipping into the more famous verse rather than the more contradictory lines of our working text. The example that most comes to mind is “that puzzles the will,” rather than “that puzzles the brain and confound the sense.” Easy enough to see why the mind gravitates towards the more common version, but that is no excuse. This textual sensitivity—and the directness of the first quarto—has been a boon, however. I must be more concerned about what the real goal of Hamlet’s words is because I must speak words I do not think of as Hamlet’s. In a way, that makes them more mine than any of my friends’ previous turns as Hamlet.
I have very little more to say about Hamlet. I am still nailing down all of my lines; I am still finding out what I will be when I am on stage; I am still in process. This is a good place to be…but it is terrifying. I want to be so perfectly settled that no one can tell I am human, that would make me feel safe. It would be terrible theater, but I could do my job.
In the end, I will have to be terrified onstage, which, I think and hope, will allow me to touch the most visceral aspect of Hamlet’s life as we see it onstage: his terror and confusion. Hamlet is smarter than pretty much everybody onstage, but too often that translates into him being shown as some Bugs Bunny like infallible being. I do not want that. I want my Hamlet, if nothing else, to be achingly human, afraid, and confused, as I feel he should be. I now can only do the work to make sure that my terror is not hollowly mine but Hamlet’s as well.
Friday, March 4, 2016
Meet the Company of Bad Quarto's Hamlet!
Get to know the company of Bad Quarto's upcoming production of Hamlet, The First Quarto!
Alex Dabertin (Hamlet) is an actor, writer, and director who recently graduated from Columbia University, and he is so, so incredibly excited to be a part of Bad Quarto's Hamlet. He has nothing but gratitude for the whole amazing Bad Quarto crew. Recently he was seen in Bad Quarto's Taming of a Shrew, and The Brewing Department's Othello. You can find him on Facebook as "Alex Niles Dabertin" and on tumblr as "postmodernnosferatu."
Beatriz Browne (Ofelia, Braggart Gentleman) is very excited to be returning to her second production with Bad Quarto. Beatriz is a Brazilian actress and graduate of AMDA. Since graduation in 2015, she has been working extensively in film, television and theater. Past credits include: The Taming of A Shrew, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Marat/Sade, and more. With a passion for Shakespeare, she cannot wait to explore the text and put it to work with her fellow cast members. Big thanks to her family for the constant support, and to Tony for believing in her work.
Kitty Mortland (Queen Gertred) recently appeared in Richard II and Romeo and Juliet with Hamlet Isn't Dead, Measure for Measure with Hudson Warehouse, and As You Like It with Folding Chair Classical Theatre. Originally from Chicago, she appeared there in Down & Derby (The New Colony), Devour (20% Theatre Chicago), and the Jeff Nominated The Bad Seed: The Musical (Corn Productions). Kitty also played the title character in Hamlet: The Series, available on YouTube. When not on stage, Kitty is also a singer/songwriter who has played venues across the Chicagoland area including the Elbo Room, the Underground Lounge, and Reggie's Rock Club. DFTBA.
James Overton (Ghost, Player Duke, Fortenbrasse). This will be James Overton's second time working with Bad Quarto Productions and he couldn't be more excited! He last appeared with Bad Quarto as Lord/Simon in, The Taming of a Shrew and more recently as Andrew Aguecheek in Twelfth Night at the Secret Theatre. James recently graduated from Bennington College where he concentrated in Drama and Music Composition before moving to New York City last summer to pursue his career. He is an accomplished singer, guitarist, and ukulele player. He is a natural blonde.
Roz Cavallaro (Rossencraft, 1st Sentinel, 2nd English Ambassador) is thrilled to be a part of another Bad Quarto production. Some of her previous credits include, Phylema in The Taming of a Shrew, Ensemble in Julius Caesar, Rosalind/Ensemble in Conditions of Love (a devised Shakespeare and Sondheim piece featured in the Edinburgh Fringe Festival), Bella in Big Love, Solita in Capture by Emily Dinova, and Hera in The Nemesis Effect by S.E. Taylor.
Arif Silverman (Marcellus, Player Duchess) graduated from Oberlin College with a degree in theater this past May. His film Bless Me, Apollo recently saw its premiere at Dixon Place in January. Other recent credits include: All’s Well That Ends Well (Shakespeare on the Sound), Nolie Min Tangible (Dixon Place), Spirits to Enforce (Cleveland Public Theater), The Bacchae (Edinburgh Fringe Festival), The Taming of the Shrew (Pulse Ensemble Theater) & Heart to Heart (American Globe Theater).
Dani Martineck (Gilderstone, Gravedigger) is a New York-based actor, writer, and lab manager. Dani recently appeared in Swiftly Tilting Theatre Project's Twelfth Night (Viola) and played five seasons with Tennessee Stage Company's Shakespeare on the Square. Favorite Shakespeare credits include Hamlet (Rosencrantz) and Taming of the Shrew (Grumio).
Sophia Kokonas (Corambis, priest, ambassador) grew up in Chicago and after taking some acting classes in the city she decided to move to NYC to train at the Atlantic Theater Company's Conservatory program. There she had some of the best acting teachers in New York and discovered that Shakespeare, Moliere, and Chekhov are all she ever wants to do in life. Sophia is so excited to have been cast in Bad Quarto's production of the Hamlet and thanks everyone who made this production possible!
Owen Moss Hayden (Barnardo, Montano, the Player Murderer, Voltemar) is in his first production with Bad Quarto. Past credits include: Edgar Willoughby in The Poet (Manhattan Rep), Hotspur in Henry IV, part I (Hampshire Shakespeare), and Petruccio in Taming of the Shrew (Theater Under The Stars). He thoroughly believes flying by the seat of
his pants is the best way to travel.
his pants is the best way to travel.
Andre Silva (Leartes) is a New York based actor. He recently finished an intensive course at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts (RADA). He has been seen in Bad Quartos production of The Taming of a Shrew and The Second Shepherds Play, and in Daniel Adams production of Three Sisters at the Alchemical Theater Laboratory. He has just finished filming his first indie feature film, Jay Mancini, and also has several short films being submitted to film festivals around the country. He is delighted to be a part of this cast and wants to thank his friends and family for their ever growing support! www.AndreSilva.info
Rachel Matuse (Horatio) is thrilled to be returning to work with Bad Quarto Productions in Hamlet. Most recently she was involved in their production of The Taming of a Shrew. She is a graduate of the George Washington University, and recently trained with the Shakespeare Theatre of NJ, where she performed as Marcus in Titus Andronicus. Other notable credits include Olivia in Twelfth Night, Nurse Ratched in One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest, and Stella in Streetcar. Rachel is a proud teaching artist with George Street Playhouse, and has a particular passion for socially progressive theater. Thank you to her family and friends, and enjoy the show!
John Walbolt (King) is thrilled to be doing Shakespeare here in New York with Bad Quarto! Favorite credits include Feste in Twelfth Night, Frederic in The Pirates of Penzance, and Victor in Cabaret. John also develops free mobile Apps for performers, most notably Pocket Pitch for iPhone. Thanks to Mom, Dad, Grandma, Val, Farns, Peter, Jose, Jassy, UC Irvine and the Golden State Warriors! www.JohnWalbolt.com
Tony Tambasco (Director) is excited to be directing the first quarto of Hamlet, and to be the Artistic Director of Bad Quarto Productions. Some of his past credits with Bad Quarto include The Taming of a Shrew, The Cronicle Historie of Henry the Fift, The Ballad of Dido, and The Merry Devil of Edmonton. Some of his other favorite directing credits include Julius Caesar (Sweet Tea Shakespeare), As You Like It (The Weathervane Playhouse), An Experiment with an Air Pump (Clarkson University), and Closer (Catalyst Theatre Co.). Tony holds an MFA in directing and a M.Litt. in Shakespeare from The American Shakespeare Center / Mary Baldwin College. He is deeply grateful to everyone who has helped make Bad Quarto, and this production of Hamlet a success.
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