What Light Through Yonder Theatre Breaks? – Cherwell Online

This week,we saw the death of theatre director Terry Hands, acclaimed for his founding ofthe Everyman in Liverpool among various other theatrical, notablyShakespearean, endeavours. This news came within hours of the RSCsannouncement of their winter season of Shakespeares Wars of the Roses plays, nearlyforty years after Hands production of the Henry VI trilogy as artisticdirector of the RSC supplanted it firmly back into the public psyche.

Handsstyle of directing was distinctive, and often classic. His productions had acertain energetic hum that surrounded them, and in his more than 25 years asDirector Emeritus and Artistic Director of the RSC, it became difficult todisassociate his productions from his latent directorial presence. He came tothe RSC with a track-record of success, having founded the Everyman aftergraduating from RADA; he continued to wield his benevolent hands (pun notintended) over the theatre world when, after leaving the RSC, he saved Wales Theatr Clwyd fromclosure. His styles soon became trademark, as he made his way through Europestheatre circles. He had an almost unparalleled ability to pick out and persuadingtalent to his ends, mentoring the likes of Anthony Sher, Deborah Warner andAdrian Noble.

One of the most recognisable parts of hisdirectorial style, though, is his idiosyncratic use of light, casting himselfas lighting director in a number of productions. Hands made us light-sensitiveas an audience; what were the possibilities of light in Shakespeare, and howcould they enhance a performance? He seems to have tapped into usefuldirectorial opportunities, noticing and exploiting the infinite variety oflights possibility in Shakespeares plays.

Light, for anyone who has pored over an ArdenShakespeare, traipsing through theme after theme, is an image of notablesignificance. Romeo famously asks Juliet: But soft, what light through yonderwindow breaks?; if the window is the east, and Juliet really is the sun, how can a director make herso? The 2006 RSC production, directed by Nancy Meckler, has Juliet perched noton a balcony but on a precarious metal scaffold. The light that bathes her faceis not warm sunlight but the harsh whiteness of stage lights, as we are deniedaccess to the fallacy in which the two lovers find themselves in. To Romeo, hisparamour has the soft warmth of the sun, but to us, she looks harsh anddistant, lit with a clinical pale glow. In the 2010 RSC production, Juliet isoffstage when Romeos dramatic love exposition begins; the visions of grandeurin Romeos mind can be indulged by the director, or gently mocked by way ofdeliberate omission.

The relative scarcity of specific stage directionor set instruction makes a Shakespeare play a useful tabula rasa upon which adirector can build an effective, stylistically distinctive production. However,there are some specific light requirements that are vital to the narrative whilebeing difficult for a director to work with. A distinction between night andday is a recurring feature, a technique that would have been especiallydifficult in the open-air amphitheatre styles of some Elizabethan theatres. Thescript for our case study, Romeo and Juliet, includes the time markers ofmorning, twilight, noon, twilight, night and dawn. It is, obviously, at thedirectors discretion whether they choose to play to these distinctions, orwhether they will allow the play to exist in its own isolated timelessness.Time disorientation works well for the two lovers tragic story; a refusal toacknowledge the passage of time gives the story a cruelly ironic sense ofhaving time to spare, when in reality the events take place over only fourdays. If the director chooses to note these fluctuations in light, the playbecomes more urgent, more visceral and more real.

There are over thirty stage directions inShakespeares oeuvre calling for lights to be carried on-stage. Three kinds oflights are specified: tapers, torches and lanterns. Torches are the most commonby far, and undoubtedly the easiest for an actor to use effectively on stage. However,the Elizabethan nomenclature of specific lights was inconsistent, so relativefree-reign, even then, was given to matters of lighting for the productions. Itis unreasonable to presume that a modern director will feel constricted to theconfines of Shakespeares own light specifications, but some performance spacesnecessitate a modicum of orthodoxy. The Globes primary light source issunlight, making the only significant differentiation in light that betweenLondons night and day. Even the indoor Sam Wanamaker Playhouse, thoughartificially lit with candles, is illuminated uniformly throughout entireperformances. In such spaces, lightscarried on and off stage were not a requirement, but a superfluity to thespace: they were an exercise in aesthetics, rather than function.

Aside from the time markers mentioned previously,the use of hand-held lights in the plays are used traditionally to indicatedark, shadowy loci, where the presence of light indicates a lack it, as well asceremony and metaphor. The extinguishing of these indicates a plummet intototal darkness, in which Cassio can be ambushed and Lear can be left isolate onthe heath. As Lears Fool says: so out went the candle and we were leftdarkling. The audience is trusted to suspend disbelief as we plunge, with thecharacters, into metaphorical darkness.

How, then, has Hands legacy of light been aninfluential force on the modern Shakespeare scene? The 2014 Park AvenueTheatre, New York, staged a production of Macbeth that surpassed audienceexpectations not only of light but also of staging. The plays cavernous spacewas transformed into a barren heath, complete with open flame torches lighting theaudiences way towards the steep, stadium seating. Strange and otherworldlyshadows were cast on the faces of the (floating!) witches. The mass of candlesat the end of the traverse stage that glowed hot in Lady Macbeths fieriestmoments stood cold and dark when, hands stained with blood, she begs: Ohlight! Please take me! I deserve to die! / Nowtake me light! Now cover my darkness!. Though elements of this productioncrumble under accusations of style over substance, it is exemplary in itsmanipulation of, or abject disregard for, Shakespeares original plans forlight in his plays.

Nonconformist lightingtechniques are not specific to tragedy; Shakespeares already farcical,unrealistic comedic scenarios can be made more so with lighting that removes usentirely from reality. The recent production of A Midsummer Nights Dream atLondons Bridge Theatre explores the dark sexuality that runs throughout theplay, by keeping the in-the-round performance space mostly dark and shadowy,save select spots of bright lightness. In a play usually interpreted with thesummer-gaze of cloudless days and soft heat, the Bridges chiaroscuro is arefreshing palate cleanser for some of its more sanguine adaptations. Sequinnedand salacious, the plays purple hue in the final scene gives it permission torevel in its unabashed campness, dragging the audience literally skipping intoits midsummer fever dream.

One wonders whetherShakespeares verse benefits from these techniques; should we give in topurists, and have our open-air theatres lit exclusively by the sun and the oddtaper? Some productions, like Park Avenues, undoubtedly suffer for stylisticdiversity, sacrificing subtleties of language, style and blocking to make roomfor the enormity of these effects. However,in order to guarantee our public appreciation for these plays for years tocome, we have a duty to embrace and support attempts at stylistic innovation,rather than dismissing them as silly or superfluous. Done well, effects such aslighting can enhance audience enjoyment, and Terry Hands productionsexemplified this. He used never-before-seen lighting techniques with consistentsuccess, demonstrating how, even though Shakespeare doesnt need to bemodernised to the 21st century, wed be happy to have him.

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What Light Through Yonder Theatre Breaks? - Cherwell Online