Y'all --
I think the tavern idea is an interesting one and it makes me think both of the Boar’s Head scenes in 1 Henry IV but also the Dirty Duck in Stratford.
I had a little image last night that may have been influenced by the Marx Brothers (we just watched “Monkey Business” here at home), and perhaps also by the margarita at Matt's El Rancho (not quite wine under the trees with an old friend, but not bad) -- so I’ll toss it out there for what it’s worth. It's sort of a fusion of many of the great ideas and impulses that I've been reading....
The Barn stage is empty, quiet. (This is the tavern, but the audience doesn’t know that yet.... perhaps there are a few clues here and there, a tavern sign?) Someone enters up above, pensive, heavy in thought. This person makes his or her way down the stairs, looking out over the audience. She or he stands center stage. Looks around. A sigh. “Now.... I am alone.” He or she takes a big breath to break into a soliloquy, when... KA-BOOM, the Players (as in Hamlet?) come bursting and streaming in from all directions at once, all talking loudly (a mixture of lines from all the plays they’ve just performed), an explosion of sound and life and energy, taking off various parts of costumes, laughing uproariously, some of them singing, sharing a bottle of something, and they, cartoon-like (think Bugs Bunny or again Marx Brothers) stream past the stunned “Hamlet” and even perhaps sweep him along (lifting him straight up from his elbows six inches or so) and deposit him on a bench a pop a mug of something in his hand and slap him or her on the back. “What, shall we be merry? Shall we have a play extempore!?” someone yells (the Player Falstaff?), and someone across the room yells back, “Content, and the argument shall be...” and everyone joins in, “thy running away!” The Player of Falstaff groans back, “Ah, no more of that... an thou lovest me!” It is a ritual of sorts. Everyone begins to settle into various parts of the tavern (benches and perhaps a small table appear, Francis in his apron, the Hostess...). They all have their favorite spots, their post-performance duties, their own ways of unwinding after a full day of playing. A few are taking off makeup, perhaps prying off fake beards, as the roar settles into a murmur and bustle. Perhaps a few look over the texts for the next day’s play, new lines. (They are Players, but not "professional actors" -- I know that is a contradiction perhaps.... )
As everyone finds their seat or corner the center of the stage is open for a moment. It’s a kind of empty space that beckons. Invites. Some of the characters begin to look up from their drinks or animated conversations and notice. Someone has a little vision, a starting impulse for some kind of beginning, and stands slowly and then moves into that space; the others notice, sensing that something is going on. Perhaps a second player puts down her drink and grabs something from the straw trunk of props (carted in for sorting during the evening’s drinking). The first player says a word – it changes everything – and a scene begins. These players have performed so many of Will’s plays, they know so many of them by heart, even the roles they never played. So they have a go at something. (I don’t have a vision yet of the first scene here – but will think on it....) And others join in. And at some point, that first lively scene has reached its natural peak – no one intends to do an entire play, but they also are open to any possibility – play is in the air, and no one is sure what’ll be tossed into the ring next. So suddenly a second scene begins up in the balcony – not to rudely interrupt the first scene, but perhaps to comment on it, or take what it has begun and comment on it in an unusual way... and slowly the players begin looking around for things they can grab and turn into props, and they begin grabbing the tavern crew and pushing them into the scenes, and they too know the lines, they’ve seen the plays, heard the players practice lines during the day there on lunch break... and as many of you have described very evocatively, scenes ebb and flow, some perhaps even alternate upstairs/downstairs; and one man and woman in this time plays many parts.
That’s as far as I’ve gotten. At some point, everyone senses it’s time to say goodnight. Someone begins a song – perhaps the end of LLL. Everyone joins in. It’s a bit melancholy, so someone hollers out a line of something more rowdy, a last flickering of the flame, and they jump into that. It’s late. They begin to play one- or two-line moments of scenes that have to do with parting – saying goodbye – and step off into the night, singly or in pairs, each going home. The last person there is Francis, in his apron, closing up. He looks around, broom in hand (I know, dangerously close to Carol Burnett territory here! – but you can also think of old Firs left behind in “Cherry Orchard”), and says – “Now... I am alone...” – and goes off grabbing the last few mugs and dishrags.
Perhaps it's a playing out of the reunion experience in a compressed form -- preparation, excited and eager arrival, play everywhere, and then a somewhat heartbroken goodbye, but sustained by the hope for the next gathering.
cs
cClayton Stromberger Outreach Coordinator UT Shakespeare at Winedale College of Liberal Arts, University of Texas at Austin www.shakespeare-winedale.org cell: 512-228-1055/ office: 512-471-4726