Prospero and Miranda from the Paralympic opening ceremony
Our Revels Now Are Ended. September 19, 2019. By William Shakespeare. Related Authors. William Shakespeare; Audio Poem of the Day. Audio recordings of classic.
May 31, 2020 'Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air; And like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capped towers, the. In encouraging the creation and enjoyment of beautiful things we are furthering democracy itself. Roosevelt I The pandemic is many things. The medical crisis is just a starting point, dwarfed by existential anxieties. Covid-19 is a grave instrument of analysis, a deafening warning shot, a ruthless scourge. It is veritably biblical. Every festering.
2012 has been the year of The Tempest. During this year of the World Shakespeare Festival at least three productions have been seen in the UK, and the play featured in the opening ceremonies for both the Olympics and Paralympics. Danny Boyle took much of his inspiration from the play’s themes of magic, humanity and reconciliation, entitling the ceremony “Isles of Wonder”. Kenneth Branagh, dressed as Isambard Kingdom Brunel, delivered Caliban’s “The isle is full of noises” speech, and for the Paralympics Jenny Sealey and Bradley Hemmings gave us Ian McKellen as Prospero delivering speeches inspired by the play while Nicola Miles-Wildin as Miranda delivered her lines on the beauty of mankind, “O brave new world that has such people in it”.
At the British Museum’s current Shakespeare: Staging the World exhibition the final room is devoted to the play. The room is bathed in light after the darkness of the rest of the exhibition. Here we find terrestrial and celestial Globes symbolising exploration and discovery, the Robben Island Shakespeare reminding us of Shakespeare’s universal importance, and a recording of Ian McKellen delivering one of Prospero’s final speeches about reconciliation.
The productions have been as varied as the rest of the year’s Shakespeare offerings. The Globe to Globe production was performed in Bangla by the Dhaka Theatre of Bangladesh, with English subtitles. This vibrant production is available to view on The Space.
The RSC’s production is one of the trilogy of Shipwreck plays with Jonathan Slinger as a young, angry Prospero in David Farr’s modern dress production.
Tim Pigott-Smith as Prospero
Last Saturday another production of the play, directed by Adrian Noble, closed at the Theatre Royal in Bath. Noble’s production has been adapted from the San Diego Festival where it was the hit of 2011.
I was at the final performance, on the night before the closing ceremony of the Paralympics. Like the Olympics and Paralympics the production celebrated life, joy and emotion. In the build-up to the closing ceremony comedian Jimmy Carr was interviewed. “I’ve had a summer off from cynicism” he said.
This production connects with the audience from the start: Tim Pigott-Smith strides downstage, surveys the house sternly and strikes the boards with his magic staff. Pigott-Smith has played his fair share of unpleasant characters but here he doesn’t remain harsh for long. Miranda, played by Iris Roberts and Ferdinand (Mark Quartley) are a couple many fathom deep in love, and the atmosphere of delight is shared with the cast of curious islanders. Comedy is in the reliable hands of Geoffrey Freshwater and Mark Hadfield.
The programme editorial by Stuart Leeks focuses on the history of theatrical magic, but points out that although it’s now possible to create illusions by the use of projected images, “the greatest magic in The Tempest surely lies in the words used to summon up the fabric of this vision: the extraordinarily rich, supple, compacted verse”. In this well-spoken production magic is summoned, not by technology, but by a huge blue silk cloth. The islanders use it to make waves, to conceal entrances and exits, cover objects, as a dance partner. Ariel’s shadow as the Harpy is projected onto it, and the red eyes of the dogs that pursue Stephano and Trinculo glow behind it.
At the end of the play Prospero speaks his final speech on a bare stage. He asks for help “or else my project fails/Which was to please”. He finds his redemption in connecting with the rest of humanity, and the cast joyfully leave the stage to clasp the hands of the audience.
Our revels now are ended: this summer both sport and culture have celebrated the human spirit with optimism and warmth. Long may it continue.
Condolences have come in from all over the country on the passing away of theatre doyen and art connoisseur Ebrahim Alkazi (18 October 1925 – 4 August 2020). However, what touched the heart was a Facebook post by Kumara Varma, who was schooled in theatre direction at the National School of Drama (NSD) and spent a lifetime in Chandigarh doing memorable plays and later heading the department of Indian theatre at Panjab University. Posting a black and white portrait of Alkazi, Varma quotes Shakespeare from The Tempest: “Our revels have now ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and, Are melted into air, into thin air.”
Now settled in his home state of Kerala at Trichur, Varma says: “These are the lines that came to my mind when the news of Alkazi’s passing away came and one says with humble pride that whatever one learned was from him. He shaped modern Indian theatre and it was he who set the tradition of translating plays written in different regional languages all over the country and staging them in Hindustani. His repertoire was thus truly pan-Indian”.
© Provided by Hindustan TimesThe Tempest Our Revels Now Are Ended
Director Ebrahim Alkazi ()Our Revels Now Are Ended Summary
Legend of Tughlaq
With this we come to the spectacular production of Girish Karnad’s Tughlaq, which was originally written in Kannada and translated for Alkazi by yet another brilliant director-musician of modern Indian theatre, late BV Karanth. Karnad was to say thus of Alkazi: “His fundamental contribution was to devise a methodology of theatre training which has continued after him, and to create a body of actors and directors which transformed the notion of theatre at the grassroots.” Interestingly, Alkazi first assigned Om Shivpuri to take up Tughlaq as a student production. Karnad was acknowledge that it was immaterial that these were only student productions: “Doors that we, in our vernaculars did not even know existed, had begun to open.”
Karnad, who sourced his plays from myth and history, wrote Tughlaq in 1964, based on the maverick life of the 14th century Sultan of Delhi, Mohammad Bin Tughlaq.
Alkazi as the founding director of NSD from 1962 to 1977, in those 15 years, directed to perfection many plays, yet his three definitive works to be staged in the backdrop of Delhi’s Purana Qila were Andha Yug, Razia Sultan and Tughlaq. The last which he first staged in 1962 is counted as one of the best productions the country saw in modern times is because it brought together some of the best talents of the country: Alkazi, Karanth, Karnad and of course the famous actor Manohar Singh, the Himachal boy who was groomed by his teacher to be one of the best actors on stage. Manohar was the first and only choice of Alkazi, who said: “Manohar had the aristocracy of spirit, nobility of soul and complete humility in understanding and enacting a role.”
Varma, who played the junior guard recalls, “The play had passed from history into legend while it was still being enacted. Artiste Kamal Tewari recalling the magnificent and unparalleled performance of Manohar Singh, says: “I was included in the production playing one of the conspiring Ameers and I remember the slap Manohar Singh gave me sent me hurling some six feet away”. Veteran actor Rani Balbir Kaur adds, “I travelled a number of times till the play was active to see it and each time it was a great experience. What dialogue delivery by Manohar Singh! I first met Kumara Varma there playing the young guard to whom Manohar renders the famous speech ‘Umangon bhari umar hai, Khwab dekhne ki umar, Saare aalam ko jeetne ki umar’ (It is your age of exaltation, The time to indulge in dreams, The time to conquer the whole world)’.”
Flash forward to 1980s
It was in the mid-1980s during a meeting with actor Meeta Vashisht, who one knows from her Chandigarh theatre days, at the NSD hostel. One got talking about Tughlaq. Meeta recounted that the boy students would down beer, strip off most of their clothing and recite the dialogues of Tughlaq till late at night. Not surprising for that’s how it was and is in boys’ hostels. The young ones were giving an irreverent tribute but a tribute nevertheless. At the same time they were practising dialogue delivery at its best. Yes, and as a friendly neighbourhood journalist one had the privilege of spending a few evenings with Manohar Singh who would pick up the play and recite some of the dialogues. I earned his wrath when I once dosed off a little in the middle of the renderings and he told me to get up, fix myself a drink, and carried on reciting.
Such was the magic of Tughlaq, a political play that was written on the faultline of Nehruvian socialism, yet in such a manner that it reached out to all in its multilayered delineation to one and all.
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