I, Shakespeare

Tim Crouch

• Editore: Oberon Books
• Anno: 2012
• ISBN:
  9781849435352
• Edizione: 1
• Argomento: Littérature
• Categoria: Théâtre britannique

"This brilliant collection of re-imagined stories is a perfect introduction to Shakespeare for students of all ages. They are funny, fresh, intriguing and poignant, and use a supreme storyteller's skill to bring us into the worlds of some of Shakespeare's best-loved characters and plays. A must for all teachers who want to excite and inspire their students about Shakespeare's work and the possibilities of theatre."
Jacqui O'Hanlon, Director of Education Royal Shakespeare Company I, Shakespeare brings together Tim Crouch's take on four Shakespeare classics: Twelfth Night, Macbeth, The Tempest and A Midsummer Night's Dream. These solo pieces are written for younger audiences but their originality and strength make them suitablefor any age. Each play in this collection combines the need to tell Shakespeare's primary story with an opportunity for the secondary characters to finally have their say – Malvolio, Banquo, Caliban and Peaseblossom. Each play is different but all display a formal inventiveness and a philosophical playfulness that make them stand alone as brilliant examples of contemporary theatre.

I, PEASEBLOSSOM

First performed at St Mary’s Primary School,
Portslade, May 13th, 2004.

Original design by Graeme Gilmour
Original music by Karl James

Commissioned by Brighton Festival.

Production note:
In the script, Peaseblossom is referred to as a ‘he’.
But fairies can be any gender.

PROLOGUE

The castle courtyard, very late night after the wedding, at the end of Shakespeare’s play. A wedding table, the high table, place names of Theseus and Hyppolyta, Titania and Oberon, Demetrius, Helena, Lysander and Hermia. Confetti everywhere. A child’s wooden sword lying on the ground.

Also, a large black board onto which the stage manager will occasionally write things. At the start of the play is written:

PEASEBLOSSOM
NIGHT

As the audience enter, the stage manager, dressed in cagoule and Wellington boots, is sitting at a sound desk to the side of the stage. A wedding bouquet is visible. Everyday working lights are on.

The ‘sound’ of the night is playing from the outset.

PEASEBLOSSOM – also in cagoule and flowery Wellington boots, carrying a shapeless teddy bear, or old comforter – dancing, trippingly, wings down.

Half under his breath, half sung. Bless this chair. Bless this other chair. Bless these floor tiles. Bless this bit of wall. Bless this bit of wall. Bless this thing, that thing, etc.

As the audience enter, he starts to bless bits of them and theirs, too.

Bless this knee. Bless this wrist watch. Bless this hair band. Bless this elbow. Bless this shoe. Bless this thing, that thing, etc.

PEASEBLOSSOM is very, very tired.

When the audience are all in and ready, he stops blessing and dancing. A big yawn.

The sound of night stops. Silence.

There was something I wanted to say to you?

Looks at his watch.

4.30. Nearly dawn.

(Calling off.) I’ve finished.

Silence.

M’Lady. It’s me. Your fairy Peaseblossom.

I’ve blessed everything.

Should I start again?

Silence.

Bum.

The sound of the night resumes, but quieter.

He resumes his blessing.

Bless these cake crumbs. Bless this puddle of wine. Bless this pool of vomit. Bless this broken goblet. Bless this confetti. Bless this chicken drumstick. Bless these streamers. Bless these other cake crumbs.

Big yawn.

Tired. It’s been a long night.

Stops. Picks up a scrap of gilded card.

Listen to this.

“You are cordially invited to the wedding of Theseus, Duke of Athens, to Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons. Ceremonies blahblah. Supper at blahdiblah. Evening entertainment at blah.

Turns paper over.

“PS. Also, the wedding of Demetrius and Helena, Lysander and Hermia. RSVP.”

Looking at it, you wouldn’t have thought there’d been three weddings here last night, would you? More like a punch-up.

To himself. I’m stopping. Calls. I’m stopping.

The sound of night stops.

Silence. Looks at his watch.

4.35.

Quiet. Eerily quiet.

They’re all…making love. Everything’s…making love.

Look everybody. Look. The moon. The moon. Like a silver bow new bent in heaven. Look. Mustardseed? Cobweb? Moth? The moon.

Mustardseed?

Haven’t seen the moon for – MONTHS. Not properly. Not with the weather like it is – Like it was – Like it’s been. The rain. SUCH RAIN.

But the moon. Clear skies. That’s a good sign. Things getting back to normal. (Calls.) Look, everybody, the –

Silence. A big yawn.

Sleepy.

He picks up Pyramus’ wooden sword.

That actor left his sword.

Waves the sword around – play fights like a boy, half-heartedly.

What was it I wanted to – Something important.

I’ve been having such dreams lately.

Can I ask you a personal question? Can I? (‘Yes’.) How many of you – Hands up all those – Which of you here are… actually MARRIED? Serious question. Please don’t shy away from it. How many? Not a lot. You madam, sir, etc (To adults.). Yes? Now, how many of you are NOT married? Yes? Yes? Well this question is for you:

WHAT ON EARTH DO PEOPLE SEE IN IT?

Mustardseed and I were talking about it last night, during the weddings. We have spent the last two months living in fear; hiding for FEAR in acorn cups. And all because of so-called love and so-called marriage. And despite this, even as I speak, at this very moment, just through there, three couples are – six mortals are – and my Lady and her King are all – (Whispered.) coupling.

Grown-ups, eh? Brrrrrr.

Someone’s always sick at weddings. I’m just surprised that vomit (Pointing.) isn’t mine.

A big yawn.

Never so weary.

Yawns again. Looks at his watch.

4.40. What a night.

Sleep with leaden legs and batty wings doth creep.

He swipes off the place names and confetti from the wedding table and circles around on it, like a dog looking for a place to sleep, wooden sword and comforter in hand.

As PEASEBLOSSOM starts to snuggle down to sleep, the dream music starts to play – a tinkling, surreal, lullaby theme that will be re-visited.

Once PEASEBLOSSOM is asleep, the Stage Manager gets up and writes on the board:

PEASEBLOSSOM’S 1st DREAM
BEE

The Stage Manager sits back down again.

The Dream Music stops. The lights change to a dreamy state.

DREAM ONE

PEASEBLOSSOM’s wings up.

PEASEBLOSSOM stalking a bee, wooden sword in hand. He works his way throughout the whole performance and audience space.

I’m stalking a red-hipped humble-bee. They pass through here, rest there on that thistle, one blow to the back of the neck, remove the honey bag – taking care not to burst it – and that’s that. Only, since the upheaval, nothing. Once in a while a glow worm.

By upheaval, I mostly mean the weather.

He stalks throughout the space, around the audience.

Nice to be by myself, though, doing a bit of stalking. Even in the wet. Make the most of the peace; the lull before the storm: the storm that is the wedding of the mortal Duke of Athens, Theseus…

He hands a boy in the audience the Theseus place name from the table. Much ad-libbing may ensue throughout all interaction with the audience.

…and his Amazon bride, Hippolyta.

He hands a girl in the audience the Hippolyta place name. They remain representatives of these two characters throughout.

Three days from now. You’re getting married in three day’s time! The eve...