Shakespeare at the Globe, Indeed

After Wednesday’s class (July 8th) I worked on marking, then made my way to the Globe Theater in Southwark to distribute thirty-one tickets to a touring production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The fact that it was a touring production (limited cast) meant the tickets were cheaper than budgeted AND we could finance some other group activity with the excess. This is my life.

Harrowing to wonder about timing and possible tube maintenance, since I had all the tickets; not unsurprisingly I was there in plenty of time, then waited and waited as my students started showing up in varying degrees of lateness for the 7 PM rendezvous. The last of them trickled in at 7:27 for a 7:30 show, having conveniently ignored both of our admonitions about eating near the theater—I just finished reading some journal accounts of them leaving some pub near Piccadilly at 6:55, not having read that Blackfriars station is closed until 2011. So I was fully prepared to leave Andrew outside with the remaining tickets, but they all got in.

The show was great—flapper era costumes and seersucker, little swing band set-up and deck chairs, and the added enjoyment of eight actors playing 21 roles, using the music and dance to make the transitions utterly entrancing. Puck being played by a stunning dancer done up “Cabaret”-style complete with garter belt and derby hat definitely made the guys pay close attention, and from what I can tell the whole class found themselves much more able to follow the action and get the jokes than they had ever expected. Hard seats (but boy was I glad not to have made them stand—GT’ers would never have stood, would they?), some minor pissing and moaning about blocked sight lines (though of course that was covered in the warning), but overall a great experience. Especially pleasurable to watch these talented folks work out problems that I had written about in my dissertation, and have my facial muscles sore from smiling.

Also glad I found the John Cleese fundraiser / supporter stone in the courtyard: he actually paid for two, just so he could mis-spell his friend’s name for perpetuity next to him—and there it is, “Michael Pallin.”

--sent in from Paris on Bastille Day after marking papers all afternoon. Will try to get an update on Friday's Oxford trip soon.