The Taming of the Shrew - What's Not To Like?

The Lovers - featuring Gil Garland as Hortensio/Licio; James Osben as Lucentio/Cambio; Sally Feetenby as Bianca with Emma, Ellie, Rheanne, Fred and (another) James in close attendance!

The Taming of the Shrew - A Small Sample!

A short, hand-held extract from this year's production, courtesy of Janie, this year's director, who saw fit to bring along a video camera.

Kate is played by Jill Brock, Petruchio by Rich Turley, and other actors featured are, in no particular order, Nick Crosley, Ernie Wingeatt and Ben Hamilton. 



We had a fabulous week at Dartmouth Castle, despite having to use the church on the opening night and having the second-half rained upon on the final night. And there will be more pictures and a proper catch-up in the not-too-distant future. In the meantime, have fun.

What Did You Say The Dog Was Called..?

It's been nearly a month since the last communique from the front line...sorry 'bout that, but there's something happening up at the Castle that requires our attention!
Busy, busy, busy! And the chances are that this will be the last blog until we've knocked 'em dead between 5th and 9th August. It would be brilliant if I could write something, and send it, from back-stage at the show, but it's a question of signal? What signal? Which kinda puts paid to that notion!

Never act with children and/or animals. Well, we've got both! Inanimate animals, sort of, and very animated children, which is just fantastic!

Freya, Ben and Isaac, just taking a break from being Servant's.

As to animals - we've got a couple of surprises up our sleeve but trying to get a real dog on stage, while not impossible (we did it in The Dream in '07 and Much Ado in '09) isn't the easiest thing to do, particularly when you're trying to act. Nigh -on impossible when your canine star is trying to get off the stage to the packet of crisps in the front row! But we think we've solved the problem with this little fella:

To quote an oft used line, 'It's a puppet!' - or in this instance, a stuffed toy. This is Bianca's lap-dog, named in fun by some idiot (!), who was trying to think of the most unlikely name for a dog like this. And it's stuck. Allow me to introduce Vomit the Poodle. 

Sorry.

But Sally, who is playing Bianca, is using him to great effect and managing not to get distracted by the various (hilarious) noises coming from the rest of the cast.

 

Here's Sally with her new best friend.

Please note the laughter. This is the 

ingredient that has seemed to increase in leaps and bounds since we started rehearsing the touring production of The Dream last year. Not that we weren't always a pretty scatty, happy bunch, but the fun-factor seems to have cranked up to eleven since that production.

  

And here are a few more shots of the cast rehearsing, just to make the point!

To top it all, the rehearsals this year have been bathed in glorious sunshine pretty much all time - which also makes everybody a lot more cheerful! 

Apart from sunshine, there has been another aspect of rehearsing this year that has added another layer of gloss to everything. We have been really privileged to have had the chance to work with one of the countries (if not the world's!) greatest text and voice coaches. And boy, have we had a blast!

 Michael Corbidge has taught us so much in the time he spent with us that it really is difficult to explain the effect he has had upon the whole company.

Working with humour he has shown us just where and what we need to work on. He has opened up an amazing reservoir of talent, enthusiasm and energy in the company that, although it was there before, we just weren't tapping into it effectively. And we've only just started this exploration.

Here are some shots of all us working and having a laugh with Michael.

 

There have been other amazing people from beyond the company too, who have all added to our knowledge and understanding of what it is we are striving for. We learn all the time, all of us, even the teachers. So huge thanks to Jane King, Gareth Ballyn, our own Lynne Deller and Janie, our director, who pulls all these disparate threads together and helps us weave them into something magical.

We've even managed to grab some really important social time too, albeit at a Sunday rehearsal. Our Trooch (Rich) arrived with all sorts of goodies in the boot of his car and proceeded to set up shop and tempt everybody with food and drink!!

At least it was us with a barbeque on stage and not a group of spectators, who did exactly that one year...half an hour before we were due to go on stage! Ah, the stories we could tell...

James and Sam going all hunter-gatherer 

The tribe tucking in.

Trooch having a real problem making decisions!

So all in all, this year is shaping up to be one of the most inventive and exciting Dartmouth Shakespeare Week's thus far. And that is all down to the wonderful bunch of people who are involved.

Thanks in large amounts are, once again, due to Keith Gould who took these fabulous pictures and whose work is hugely appreciated by everyone in the company. He does it every year, and every year he comes up trumps!

And also this year, lest we forget, we have a really talented group of musicians involved, who will be performing live during the production. Simon Fox (who played Oswald in 'King Lear' last year) has written some beautiful music for the lovers and, under the musical direction of Jess Heywood, everything in that department is shaping up brilliantly...they also have responsibility for the sound effects. Oh yes, we have those too!

Here they are rehearsing and having a conflab with Janie about choice of incidentals

Whilst it's not a pre-requisite that people who join us, in any capacity, have to be mad, or liberally supported by alcohol or even come in disguise, it sometimes happens. The names have not been changed to protect anybody!

James, thinking about auditioning for 'Notre Dame de Paris'...probably.

Rich, demonstrating his Mr Gumby impersonation, sans handkerchief.

Clare, thoroughly enjoying a small libation and wondering if one more would hurt.

This is NOT Shahar, he is NOT associated, in any way, with these people. Honestly.

Given the time, we hope to have another blog or two up before we go 'live' but under the circumstances, we'll all probably under the table somewhere, wondering what the heck just happened!!

Here's hoping to see you all at the castle sometime between 5th and 9th August. 

If you can't make it, keep your eyes peeled here or on the web-site. 

www.theinntheatrecompany.co.uk

Grumio Speaks.

It's all well and good having a back-story, I hear you say, but what if two characters, that spend time on stage together, that have some sort of 'history', have back-stories that don't gel. Won't that cause confusion?
Yes..and no. Maybe.
Nothing's as simple as that: as in life, so in the world of the back-story!
A back-story is there to help the actor answer those actor's questions (see Rich's entry 'Petruchio - What's In A Backstory') and give the actor a foundation to build his characterisation upon. It's about thinking how a person might react to any given situation, taking in to account his/her history.
Conversely, if two people who have a 'history' have wildly differing back-sotries, there maybe a conflict between their reactions to any given situation, so it would obviously be helpful if their 'histories' had a degree of similarity at certain key points. 
There should be similarities, for instance, between Katherina's back-story and Bianca's; Tranio and Lucentio (who, in some ways, mirror Petruchio and Grumio) should likewise have major points in their back-stories that meet and agree.
But the great thing about this back-story thing, as Jilly so rightly observed, is that nobody can tell you you're wrong! 
It's your back-story, your thoughts on what has gone before to make the character the way s/he is.
Grumio is Petruchio's manservant and comrade-in-arms, so using the above 'formula', they needs must have points in their stories that agree. 

Grumio's Tale

Well, it was a happy ending eventually, but it’s taken him twenty odd years to get there; and I’ve been with him, behind him and beside him pretty much every step of the way…including that nasty little skirmish with that other lot that cost him most of his mates and a good percentage of his men.

Then my old master, his father, Antonio up and died. It’s not been a good few years, I can tell you.

Haven't got any pictures of Grumio rehearsing yet, so this will have to do.
Me doing the pointy-thing, directing 2013's 'King Lear'

Here’s the thing though. My old man served Antonio all his life and I was there, not much more than a lad myself, when Petruchio was born. So I’ve sort of looked out for him since the day he could walk. Both our Mothers died around the same time and when my father died (too hammered to get out the ditch he fell into on the way back from the inn – silly sod drowned in three inches of water) Antonio kept me on, gave me the old man’s cottage and told me to stay and keep the grounds like dad had done. And of course, Petruchio was there, waddling, then running and playing, then strutting and fawning, then actually growing up (a bit) and starting to take on the job of running his father’s estate and farms. Then came the war.

Antonio knew his son wanted to go (Trooch – s’what I called him when he was younger – was always a hot head when he was around eighteen or so. The fights I’ve broken up with some of the estate lads don’t bear thinking about!) so he bought him a commission and off young Trooch went to war. And me along with him.  Well Antonio needed somebody with a sensible head on his shoulders (so Antonio said anyway) to keep an eye on him. But he turned out to be a good soldier. Made a lot of mates and his men loved him.

We had some scrapes; but then he lost the Flagoneers.  That’s what he called the troop…they all carried their leather flagons that he’d brought em, with their names on em. That’s when I really needed to keep an eye on him. He resigned his commission and headed back to the estate.

Didn’t seem to do much else but drink n wench for a while, but then he started to come round a bit, although he was always angry. He’d turn on a sous before he went away, but now? I stopped him getting killed back at home more times than he’d been in danger during the war! 

Just when you think you’re getting out of the thickest part of the forest, eh? Antonio upped and died.

By a-lakin I tried, by my sainted ol’ mum I did, but after that, on top of everything else, he just went mad. Drinkin’, spendin’ money like there was no tomorrow…and fightin’? I’ll show you the scars if you like. No, my scars. So I sat him down one time, one of the rare times he was actually sober, and gave him the sort of talking to his old dad might have done, in the old days. Cuffed him round the head too. He cried. I cried. He punched me. I belted him again; told him he wasn’t so big or so ugly as I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, if he needed it. Well, it seemed to work. But it sorta changed our relationship a bit. Became more master and servant, if you follow, but I can still take liberties sometimes. We don’t talk about that much anymore.

Still directing...up at the castle with the Bedlam Beggars, rehearsing.

Time passed and eventually there comes the day when Claudio Ferrini comes to call…he’s the family lawyer y’know. Him and Trooch’re cloistered up for hours. Ferrini comes out the house and I’m accidently weeding round the borders. He calls me over, puts an arm round me shoulder and we walked down the drive to where his carriage’s waiting. He might be a bit of an arse, but old Ferrini’s got Trooch’s best interests at heart. Didn’t make pleasant listening, I can tell you.

Anyway, the upshot was that the estate was so close to going bust that Trooch was going have to either flog the family silver and the lands (pissed it all up the wall basically) to be able to actually keep the house. Ol’ Ferrini suggested that we might take a sabbatical, maybe to Firenza or Padua, and maybe I could have a talk to the lad. As he was getting into the coach, Ferrini also said that he’d mentioned to Trooch that he might want to think about finding himself a wife with a dowry. Honestly? My first thought was ‘Oh shit, here we go again!’

Ferrini talking about Padua got me to thinking about our old mate from the army days, old Hortensio. 

So I suggested – I can be subtle when the mood takes – that Trooch n I pay Hortensio a surprise visit. I sort of hoped that Hortensio might be able to talk some sense into Trooch, y’know? Seems now that it was probably Hortensio that needed some sense pummelling into him.

It would seem that Trooch needed money more than Ferrini was letting on. I was sort of hoping that we’d go to Padua, sort it all out somehow then head home so I could tend to me own bit of romantic business. Columbina’s a mouthy tart, but she’s got a heart of gold…among other things, if you catch me drift!

Now, everything seems to be on an even-keel, but then? I tell you, I was wishing we’d never heard of the Minola’s, let alone that hell-cat that was old Baptista’s eldest daughter: Katherina. She was the female of version of him!!

Suffice to say I helped as much as I could, but it wasn’t easy. And then there was all that set-to with those other clowns and Minola’s youngest daughter, Bianca. That’s where Hortensio needed a bloody good slap! It got more complicated than one of them courtly dances you see at weddings.

But as we started in on his plan – although I couldn’t see just how you could tame a gobby, stroppy cow like Kate – he started to change. I mean, it all hinged on him getting a decent dowry, which he did, but as we got further along the road, he seemed to change. And so did she. I like to think I helped a little.

It’s all worked out in the end though. Trooch n I are back on a civil path, I know where I stand and so does he, she’s a bloody angel in comparison, I’m back home copping grief from her in doors and Trooch n Kate are off testing the strapping and horsehair mattress in some inn or other as they tour round on their honeymoon. Oh yeah! And he won twenty thousand crowns as well as the dowry, so looks like the old homestead’s as safe as it’s likely to be. Old Antonio’d be proud of us!

Nice hair cut!

And that, as they say, is that: Grumio, giving you (and Petruchio, Hortensio et al) an idea as to why he does what he does and gets away with it!

More back-stories and up-dates from the front-line as and when they happen.

If you want more information about us as a company, or the things we've done in the past, or intend to do in the future, have a look at our web-site:

www.theinntheatrecompany.co.uk

Loads more stuff there, including some truly spectacular photographs that out friend Keith Gould takes every year - not only of rehearsals but the actual production too. Well worth a look.

Tranio Speaks!

We've been lucky enough to see some of the processes that an actor goes through, to get into the skin of a character, by reading a some of the back-stories created by Rich and Jilly for Petruchio and Katherina.
The amount of detail they put on paper is a matter of personal choice; if it helps them create the person they're playing, then it works.

Ben Hamilton, who last year gave such a memorable performance as Edmund in 'King Lear', has a vastly different task this year: playing servant (Tranio) and master (Lucentio) whilst trying to deceive Baptista and...you know what? This is the back-story that Ben's written for himself and that he's been generous enough to share with us. It will give you an idea of the lengths to which this year's cast are going to get it all right. And look out for the lovely little touches that Ben uses, referencing other plays by Will, to help him place his character.

Biondello, the Merchant and Tranio (or is it Lucentio?), plotting away.

Tranio's Tale

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Tranio Da Silva and this is the tale of how I find myself within Padua this day.

          Born the only son of Martha and Mario Da Silva, in the mighty Italian city of Genoa, I lived a charmed childhood, growing up in a villa over-looking the mighty harbor. With its fleets of merchant ships, there I watched them plying their trade to all corners of the empire and dreamed one day of venturing forth to find new lands. Things however did not go according to my dreams, but more of that later; first I feel a brief history of my upbringing is required.

          As I mentioned, my father is one Mario Da Silva and he along with his brother, my uncle, Luigi Da Silver, were the joint founders of the great Waylandie Sail-makers. The Waylandie Sail-makers were considered one of the best, if not the finest, sail makers in all of Italy and beyond. It was said that a ship rigged with sails from the Da Silva brothers was a good omen and would bring you a prosperous voyage. Rumour has it that the long lost Duke, Prospero, was returned from the great seas in a ship rigged with those very sails.

          My mother was also skilled with needle and thread, but more so on creations more delicate than the meters of sail required for a galleon. Martha was a young prodigy of the dress maker Elli Phantios, engaged by royalty and nobility alike to create wondrous gowns. It is said her hands were as delicate as the very silk she snipped and trimmed and sewed. She was also good at imitations and at parties would regale her friends with her almost perfect mimicry. Father always said I took after her. I never knew my mother though. Tragedy struck when I was very little. At only 2 years old, she was taken from me. I was never told the true cause, only that she had been very ill. The sense of loss was overwhelming, as if this huge pit of emptiness opened and threatened to swallow me whole. 

Ben being...Ben!

I thank the gods daily that I was spared from this fate, for it was some months after this that I was introduced to the young son of one of my father’s clients: the Lord Vincentio. Well known as one of the most prominent merchants in all of Italy, with a large fleet of ships, he was a regular visitor to my Father and Uncles. So much so that there would be the occasional evenings where he would dine with them and play a hand or two of cards. On these evenings, I would be entertained at his lodgings, becoming the playmate to his only son, Lucentio. Being several years older it was always seen, I assume, that he was to be some sort of guiding influence upon me. Again, it never worked out that way.

          It turned out that Lucentio was quiet the trouble maker, always creating schemes and half baked ideas. I had many a happy time assisting and even, I must admit, coaxing him on. Sadly tragedy was never far away. At the age of only 6 my uncle Luigi was murdered. Run through the chest with a rapier by a disgruntled French captain, who claimed the sails made for his ship were inferior to the other Italian ship berthed. Uncle Luigi argued that they were not, and a fight broke out. The Captain escaped justice but it seems we had the last laugh, for his ship, rigged with shoddy sail, it is reported, split in two off the coast of Illyria.

          Father was a broken man. For hours he would howl at the injustice of the world, or worse disappear for weeks into the hills. He would return and sleep for days on end. Eventually he moved the business to Bergamo.  This however was no place for a young man to grow and more pain than a young boy could endure.

          So it came to pass that I, Tranio Da Silva, was taken in by the lord Vincentio and moved to his estate in Florence, to be trained as servant and companion to his son. Neither of us, however, forgot those carefree young days, although, on the surface we maintained the appearance of master and loyal servant. When we would venture into the city or further afield, then the facade slipped away and we became friends, nay almost brothers. It was during this time that I noticed a trend, especially in our later years, for it was always my master, with his eye for a pretty face and his puppy dog enthusiasm, that would lead us into some trouble. For some reason, it was always I that had to get us out of it. 

Ben (with Gil Garland) as the thoroughly lovely Edmund, in last year's 'King Lear'

It was during one such venture to a tavern in the city of Milan, that we encountered a young street urchin, a boy called Biondello. Not the most inspiring of first encounters: he tried to steal a loaf of bread from us. A chase ensued, in which it became clear this lad possessed an acrobatic energy level and, though not the smartest of God’s men, he was basically honest and willing. An orphan from Milan, he spent his early days begging and stealing whatever he could, but, upon good report from my master, he was taken into service within the household.

          So the years passed and we three roamed the streets of Florence, growing and experiencing the culture around us. However it could not last. My master was after all the son and only heir to a lord and a man of high renown. In this respect we were dispatched to Pisa, to oversee one of his father’s assets within the fine walls of that fair city. So for awhile it was Biondello and I, exploring wherever possible and gaining experience that I knew would prove more useful than anything my master could learn in a book, whilst Lucentio took upon himself the mantle of a noble man.

     Then one day, in early spring, my master decided that we would move; for, he claimed, he had a great desire to visit and study in Padua. At first I was not keen, but, owing my position, and in some cases my life, to my master and his family, I agreed. Of course Biondello would not be left out and so the three of us embarked upon a voyage of many months, from Pisa on the west coast, down around the very toe of Italy and back up the east coast in what can only be described as a ship fit for nothing more than sinking.

Survive this we did though, even after encountering a whale - whose size was beyond all expectation, unless it were told in some ancient mariners fable - and storms so strong we were blown backwards for a day. Once these dangers passed, and upon navigating the Fiume Bacchiglione, we disembarked at fair Padua...though no sooner had we reached the main street, than we were party to a display of family discord. 

Ben as Malcolm, taking up the Scottish crown in 'Macbeth'

And this is where the story really starts. My master and I were witness to an affray regarding the two daughters of one Baptista Minola, who was, as we discovered later, one of the greatest noble men of Padua. It seemed his youngest daughter was most sought after, whilst the eldest, a right shrew it would seem, was unwanted. The father however would not allow anyone close to his youngest, other than teachers, until the elder was wedded.

          At first I found this most amusing, more so as the two apparent suitors were ancient men of no distinction. Then however, things became complicated: my master fell in love. Now he has done this at least 4 score times before. This time though, something seemed different within him, as if the younger Lucentio I knew of old, the one I schemed with as a boy, had returned. Unfortunately this also led to one of his elaborate ruses.

     I did suggest that perhaps he should become a teacher, if he really did love this maid as he claimed, although I did have to point out he was also meant to be here making a name for himself.  Before I could stop him he declared that I would impersonate him and, swifter than a greyhound, he had us exchange clothes and told Biondello, who had recently come ashore, to obey me, claiming that he was in hiding after killing a man.

He then contrived to meet with one of the suitors, Gremio, convincing him that he was a teacher of languages, new to the area and enquiring of any posts. Gremio immediately latched onto the idea to have my master teach Bianca, the youngest daughter, of love and loving him. To gain access to Bianca, my master readily agreed. I was set the task of securing lodgings; whilst nothing extravagant it would have to suffice as the residence of Lucentio and his only servant Biondello.

          So I return to my dream. I have indeed ventured forth to new lands, though lands not as far-flung as originally desired. I have, after a fashion, a servant of my own and power to wield, though none of it my own. Even after my attempts to dissuade him from this part of the plan, I must be Tranio no more, for now I am Lucentio, son of Vincentio.

          Now…how do I even begin with this imitation?  Of course, I will do my duty, it is only that I have never undertaken anything this serious. In the past we swapped identities as mere child’s games, now things could get really out of hand. If only mother or father were here to ask. Perhaps, perhaps the answer lies within?

          Hark I hear my master call! No… it is Cambio as he calls himself now. Though the plan proceeds apace, I worry; his Latin is passing good, as long as mathematics is not required, this should proceed accordingly. Cambio will travel with Gremio ahead of myself and Biondello. We are to join him shortly and announce the arrival of ‘Lucentio’ in Padua and his intention to woo Bianca. So for now I leave the page open and part with a phrase much used by Uncle Luigi: fortune favours the bold!

Onwards noble Biondello! Fetch our horses! Let us go win a maid’s honour for good Lucentio! No matter which one of us he is at the time…          

_____________________________________________

And that, my friends, is how it's done! Different people have vastly differing methods for getting in touch with their characters, but this one, actually writing a back-story, seems to be really sparking the imaginations of everyone involved and getting us all engaged.

Thanks Ben.

Next?