John of Gaunt - First Gardener - Canterbury - Spencer Snr - Lightborn (Edward II)

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About John McEnery

This is John's fifth season at Shakespeare's Globe. He appeared in the Opening Season (1997) as Pistol in Henry V, in 1998 he played Jaques in As You Like It and Harebrain in A Mad World, My Masters, in 1999 he appeared as Enobarbus in Antony and Cleopatra and in 2001 he played the Fool in King Lear. John joined the National Theatre Company in 1966. Roles for the National include Costard in Love's Labours Lost, Silvius in As You Like It and Hamlet in the original production of Stoppard's Rozencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. John has also performed at the Bristol Old Vic, and with the RSC. Television includes The Bill, Peak Practice and The Scarlet Pimpernel. Film includes the role of Mercutio in Franco Zefferelli's Romeo and Juliet.

Character Notes 1

These comments are the actor's thoughts or ideas about the part as s/he goes through the rehearsal process – they are simply his/her own interpretations and frequently change as the rehearsal process progresses.

I will be playing three roles in Richard II: John of Gaunt, the head Gardener and the keeper of the prison at Pomfret, where Richard is murdered. It's the second time I’ve played the last two roles; I was in Deborah Warner's 1995 production of Richard II at the National Theatre when Fiona Shaw played the king. In that production, I played Lord Willoughby together with the Gardener and the keeper of Pomfret prison, so this production is going to be the first in which I’m preparing roles for a second time and I’m really looking forward to it. I suppose that, because I’ve played the roles before, I am slightly more relaxed about playing them than I am about playing John of Gaunt, but that doesn’t mean that they’re anything less than a huge challenge. It's very important that I approach them afresh, as any decisions that I made about those characters in 1995 won’t necessarily apply for this production. For example, the director and I decided then that the Gardener was a middle-status character, a gentleman, not a ‘country bumpkin’ and should therefore speak with an RP (Received Pronunciation) accent. This may be how Tim [Carroll, Master of Play] envisages the Gardener in this production, but we may decide to develop the character in a totally different way, so, we’ll see.

I’m very excited about playing Middle Temple Hall. I went there for the first time with the rest of the company on our first day of rehearsals. It's a thrilling space, especially when you consider that Shakespeare himself played there. Of course, the space presents us with specific challenges; we’re going to have to be very careful not to hit the front row of the audience when we’re wearing swords. I also noticed that the ceiling is very high, creating a slight echo when you speak. This means we will have to work on making sure that every sound, every word, every consonant we make is very clearly pronounced so that the audience can understand every word of what we’re saying.

At the moment, I’m concentrating on the character I play at the start; John of Gaunt. Last week, the company went away on residential to a large building called ‘Gaunt's House’. I was amazed to find that it was indeed Gaunt's house; it was built on the old estate of John of Gaunt. I also noticed this morning that on my way home each day, I travel down a road called ‘Gaunt Street, formerly Lancaster’. I think somebody's trying to tell me something…

Whilst we were at Gaunt's house, we did a lot of work on the pre-history of Richard II. As part of this work, we all sat down one evening and read another play, called Woodstock, which details the events immediately before Richard II starts, in particular the death of Richard's uncle, the Duke of Gloucester, who was also known as Woodstock. It's a fantastic, very well crafted play, and reading it was a great help in understanding some of the issues that are discussed in Richard II, such as whether, or to what extent, Richard was involved in the murder of his uncle, as well as the complex family structure that underpins the play. So many of the characters are closely related; I think this play is fundamentally about a family in crisis.

We also did several other exercises to help us understand the relationships between our characters, and what they’re trying to achieve during the play. In one exercise, we all sat around in a circle and, one by one, stood up in character and explained our relationship to certain other characters. I stood up as John of Gaunt and said, ‘I am Bolingbroke's father, brother to the Duke of York and uncle to Aumerle and King Richard’. We also then did the same exercise again, but this time referring to status and intention, so everybody would stand up, look at another character and say ‘I am your superior/inferior/equal, and I want you to do x’. For example, I stood up as the Gardener, looked at Queen Isabel and said ‘I am your inferior, and I want you to tell King Richard to stop wasting so much money’. Status is very important in this play, but if you are trying to affect a change in someone else, their status doesn’t affect the fact that you want to change them or their opinions, only the way you choose to go about doing this. Exercises such as that are a great help in understanding the relationships between each character and the truth of particular situations, and the knowledge we took away from that exercise will be of great value when we come to explore different scenes in more detail.

Whilst we were at Gaunt's House, we were visited by experts in the Tudor/Jacobean period, who taught us about daily life 400 years ago. Military specialists came and taught us about the etiquette of wearing swords; for instance, to place your right hand on the handle of your sword was considered highly confrontational. We were also visited by the Tudor Group, who are amazing; you can ask them about any topic relevant to Tudor England and they know everything about it. I asked them about herbs, as I have a line, as the Gardener, describing where I will plant some rue:

Here did she fall a tear; here in this place
I’ll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace. (iii.4 ll 104-105)

They told us that rue was associated with healing and purification, and that people would often hang some rue in their houses to drive away grief and sorrow. However, the herb itself has the capacity for harm; if you rub it on your skin it causes blistering and burning. It's always useful to know these things.

I am looking forward to being in an original practices production again. For one thing, the clothes are fantastically comfortable, as they’ve been made specifically to fit you. In fact, the other day, Jenny [Tiramani, Master of Clothing and Properties] showed me the shoes I wore as Pistol in Henry V (1997); they’re going to adapt them for me to wear this year, possibly as the Gardener. They’re wonderful; although they’re only very simple leather shoes, they’re so comfortable!

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Character Notes 2

These comments are the actor's thoughts or ideas about the part as s/he goes through the rehearsal process – they are simply his/her own interpretations and frequently change as the rehearsal process progresses.

A few more weeks to go, and we’ve just about finished going through the whole play once; in fact, they’re rehearsing the final scene right now. We are only called to rehearsals when one of our scenes is being rehearsed, so although we know those scenes fairly well, none of us have a sense yet of how all the scenes are going to fit together. However, I think we’re going to start doing runs of the play next week which will set that to rights. Knowing how each scene is being played by other members of the company will be very helpful; it gives you an idea of how each character develops during the play which in turn will inform how one's own character, or in my case, characters, might react to them when our paths cross. This information won’t necessarily affect how we react to them that much, but it's useful to have it in the back of your mind; it's like gossip - you don’t pay too much attention to it because you know it's not a definitive account of what happened, but it stays in the back of your mind. I also find it helpful to watch the scenes that come before and after mine; this helps you to assess the mood at the end of the scene before you come on, and therefore what effect your scene, or your entrance could have on an audience. For example, if the scene before yours has ended on a sombre note, if you run in shouting you will probably startle the audience, and you need to consider whether this is the effect your character needs to have on them at this point in the story. After all, what we’re doing as a company is telling a story, and we need to be careful, as a company, to drive the story forwards and not allow it to jump off the track. Running the play will also help us, the actors, as we start to think about purely practical matters, such as how long we will have to change our costume, or to wait in the dressing room, or to get to a certain spot before we need to be on stage again.

We went back to Middle Temple Hall a few days ago with Stewart [Pearce, Master of Voice] to do some voice work and judge the echo of the space. You have to be very careful, in any space, to judge the pitch of your voice just right so that you can be heard clearly. When we were in the hall, we started with a humming exercise. First , we hummed a very low note, as low as we could, and then gradually increased the pitch so that the note got higher and higher, listening to the echo the whole time; at what pitch it was greatest. We then did this again, but speaking, not humming, finding the pitches where your voice reverberates nicely without detracting from the clarity of speech -if the echo is so much, it distorts the sound to the extent that no-one can understand what you’re saying. The important thing is to remember not to strain your voice. Pretty soon after I left drama school, I went to work for a repertory theatre, [a theatre where the same company of actors rehearse and perform several plays throughout a set period of time], where I played Hotspur in I Henry IV and several other roles. The first play to open was I Henry IV, and I was so determined to give an energetic, passionate performance that by the end of the first week I had lost my voice. This didn’t help matters, especially given that by this time I was already in rehearsals for another play. As actors, we always want to get to the emotional heart of a character, but it's important not to let your character's emotions get in the way of your acting technique; no matter how you feel, you still have to give another performance the next day. The acoustic in Middle Temple Hall is wonderful; I think we’ll be able to speak almost at our normal volume and still be heard throughout the hall.

I’ve been working on the Gardeners’ scene recently, and am puzzling over what his role in the play is. After all, the audience already know all the information he gives them in that scene. I suppose it must be for the benefit of Isabella; it's the First Gardener that tells her what has happened to Richard and therefore spurs her to meet with Richard in act v scene 1. The scene tells the audience about Isabella; how she is the last to find out what has happened to her husband, and I think the gardener encourages them to sympathise with her plight. He himself wishes he could help her, as he says:

Poor Queen, so that thy state might be no worse
I would my skill were subject to thy curse. (iii.4.102-103).

Interestingly, the gardener speaks exclusively in verse, never in prose. As a result, Tim [Carroll, Master of Play] and I have agreed that I will play him as a relatively high status character; a highly educated horticulturalist, a master of his trade. His speeches are very poetic, full of metaphors, and this makes them very difficult to say in a naturalistic way, to give them the characteristics of everyday speech. This is something I’ll be working at over the next few days. As a whole, it's an oddball scene, and it's often cut from productions of Richard II. At the moment, it's still in this production, but we’ll see what happens as rehearsals continue.

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Character Notes 3

These comments are the actor's thoughts or ideas about the part as s/he goes through the rehearsal process – they are simply his/her own interpretations and frequently change as the rehearsal process progresses.

I’ve just finished a long rehearsal on John of Gaunt's death scene (ii.1). It's my biggest scene, Gaunt's key confrontation with Richard, and I was very nervous about running the scene at the end of the rehearsal. In the end, it went fine. During the rehearsal, Tim [Carroll, Master of Play], made Mark [Rylance, Richard] and I play the scene in lots of different ways. During this scene, Gaunt is essentially pointing an accusing finger at Richard, saying ‘I know you’re responsible for my brother, Woodstock (the Duke of Gloucester)'s death.’ Of course, we don’t know exactly what happened to him, but the play suggests it had something to do with Mowbray's recent visit to Calais, as he says:

‘…For Gloucester's death,
I slew him not, but to my own disgrace
Neglected my sworn duty in that case.’ (i.1.132-134)

It is suggested that although Mowbray didn’t kill the Duke himself, he did nothing to protect him from the murderers who may, or may not have been sent by Richard himself. Interestingly, Mowbray refuses to admit what actually happened when Bolingbroke calls on him to “Confess [his] treasons ere [he] fly the realm” (i.3.198), suggesting that he has committed no treason as his actions were ordered by Richard, his divinely-appointed king, whom he also assures earlier in the scene that “Truth hath a quiet breast” (i.3.96).

The Divine Right of Kings is a key element of the play; to what extent is it lawful to depose a divinely appointed king. I have come to the conclusion that John of Gaunt firmly believes in the Divine Right; you can see it in i.2 where he has a long conversation with Woodstock's wife, the Duchess of Gloucester. As the scene opens, she is reprimanding Gaunt for taking no action to revenge Gloucester's death. Though Gaunt believes Richard is responsible for the death, he adamant that only God can revenge his brother:

“God's is the quarrel; for God's substitute,
His deputy anointed in His sight,
Hath caused his death; the which if wrongfully,
Let heaven revenge, for I may never lift
An angry arm against His minister.” (i.2.37-41)

In a way, I think Gaunt is sitting on the fence, using the Divine Right argument to avoid getting involved with what is essentially a family affair, and which he, as an elder member of the family, should try to resolve. The play is essentially a family tragedy; Gaunt, Bolingbroke, York, Aumerle, Richard – they’re all members of the same family and I think it's that fact that allows Gaunt to be so brusque with Richard in ii.1. The situation is also heightened by the fact that Gaunt, despite being a Knight of the Garter and a member of the Privy Council, has effectively been sidelined by the emergence of Richard's flatterers: Bushy, Bagot and Greene. Gaunt knows he is dying and sees this meeting as his last opportunity to drum some sense into his nephew.

First, we tried the scene playing it very politely, very formally; everyone was very careful to bow properly and at the proper times. Then we tried it again, but without any such formalities. Tim [Carroll] then encouraged us to try the scene several times and experiment with exactly how ill Gaunt is when he meets with Richard; once, we tried the scene having Gaunt die on stage in front of Richard. After experimenting with a few more ways of playing the scene, we have now put together a patchwork of approaches to different parts of the scene which will provide it with a structure and yet encourage us to keep it very fiery and spontaneous. There are some aspects of the scene that will probably remain similar throughout rehearsals and the run: for example, Mark [Rylance]'s Richard is very shifty in this scene; as soon as any mention of Gloucester comes up, he is suddenly unable to look anyone in the face. Another such aspect is Gaunt's illness; although he is very ill, he is not so ill that he cannot get up from his chair and almost physically threaten Richard. We now have a basic structure of the formality and physicality of the scene and we will probably not rehearse the scene too many more times before we open. Tim [Carroll] is rightly cautious about our becoming too set in our ways with each scene, always moving to exactly the same places at the same times, saying our lines in exactly the same way. It's far better to not keep going over scenes again and again; now that we have our basic structure, we can explore the scene afresh each time.

Gaunt's belief in the divine has also cropped up in rehearsals for i.3, the duel between Bolingbroke and Mowbray. All seem agreed that God will choose the victor of the duel, but Richard then stops the fight before it really gets underway. He then withdraws with his councillors before coming back to the combatants and delivering his verdict on their futures. Each time we do the scene, those of us in Richard's council improvise a hasty discussion where we advise Richard on what to do. Bushy, Bagot and Green urge Richard to stop the fight and banish them both, whereas I find myself improvising saying to Richard ‘Why did you stop the fight? A few weeks ago you said ‘God will settle it’, here we are, and now you’ve stopped it again and you’re putting me in the position of having to pass judgement on my son.’ Gaunt is inevitably outvoted, and Bolingbroke banished. What is infuriating for Gaunt is the way in which Richard keeps changing the rules; almost immediately after he banishes Bolingbroke for 10 years, he reduces it to 6. Although he claims to do this out of compassion, it's proof that he is wholly inconstant in his decisions.

I’m now putting a lot of effort into making sure my lines are secure. Most of my lines, and all of my lines as the Gardener, are in verse. We’ve been having classes with Giles [Block, Master of the Words], exploring metre and verse structure; whether lines are made up of iambs, trochees, alexandrines etc. In those classes, we don’t look at extracts from Richard II but from other plays by Shakespeare, e.g. 1 Henry VI, instead. Different actors have different approaches to learning verse. I imagine that each line has to ‘fit’ over 5 points/beats, like 5 dots on a dice. Technically, the line will fit several ways, but you have to choose the way that makes most sense of the line. However, not every line fits within the 10 syllables of strict pentameter. Some lines contain 11, or even 12 syllables. I was speaking to Giles about one particular line: “As near as I could sift him on that argument,” (i.1.12) which has 12.syllables; there is no way to get around putting in an extra beat. Giles assures me that Shakespeare often does this, unlike Marlowe, whose pentameter is breathtakingly regular.

I’ve been called for several costume fittings over the last few weeks. As Gaunt, I’ll be wearing doublet and hose, mainly in black and green. As the keeper of Pomfret Castle, I’ll mainly be wearing my old costume from 1997, when I played Pistol in Henry V; jerkin and breeches, which is fantastic! I suggested to Jenny [Tiramani, Master of Clothing and Properties], that I could wear a white wig underneath my hat as the gardener, but this will be impossible, as the I’ll have to take my hat off to Queen Isabella, and because the wig would need to be attached to the brim of the hat (to allow me to put it on and take it off quickly), this could be a problem…

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Character Notes 4

These comments are the actor's thoughts or ideas about the part as s/he goes through the rehearsal process – they are simply his/her own interpretations and frequently change as the rehearsal process progresses.

We’re about to open at Middle Temple Hall, and for the first time, we’re really concentrating on our movements; where we move and when. Yesterday's run was absolutely amazing; it was a complete free-for-all, movement-wise; people could move wherever and whenever they liked, yet it worked fantastically well. Those who were watching were very complimentary, and we haven’t even opened yet!

It's been an amazing rehearsal process, unlike any I’ve experienced before. We spent a great deal of time talking about the scenes, doing improvisations and learning all about Elizabethan society and etiquette. This meant we’ve spent less time than I’m used to directly working on the play itself, yet the whole play has come together in a way I could never have imagined. It's all rather wonderful. I was worried in the run-up to yesterday's run because there was a very real danger that people would get stuck standing in the wrong place at the wrong time and sticking out like a sore thumb, but because we had been so well drilled in rehearsals, because we knew our characters and the world of the play so well, during the run the whole production seemed to come together organically.

Our movements are governed above all by the social formalities of the time; bowing, for example. Bowing is a very precise procedure, especially when you are wearing a hat. It is vital to take your hat off from the back; if you take it off from the front, you risk revealing the inside, (which is probably very dirty), to whoever you are bowing to. Especially important was remembering to bow to your family and peers; for instance, you would bow upon meeting them in the morning, and if you bumped into them in the corridor half an hour later, you’d have to bow again. At court, the necessary formalities became more numerous: you must always bow to the king (always removing your hat, which you don’t put back on until he's left the room), you must remember the hierarchy of those present in relation to the king, and stand only as close to him as your status allows. All of these rules gave us a type of structure within which we can try out different ways of doing each scene. Yesterday, I was suddenly struck by the different ways in which different characters work within these rules. For example, the ‘favourites’, Bushy, Bagot and Green, are doing very different bows to the older characters in the play; theirs are far more languorous and elaborate. Because we’re only just starting to do regular runs, everything about the production is very exciting to watch, which in itself is unusual; normally at this stage in rehearsals, the company will know the show so well that when we’re not on-stage we’re often sitting there doing the crossword… Yesterday it was so exciting, it felt like we were spectators at the first night.

Having finished this last run, Tim [Carroll. Master of Play] is now starting to suggest specific places where we should stand at certain points during the play. He isn’t doing this a lot, just enough to make sure that each scene is fully opened out to use the whole length of Middle Temple Hall. It's easy to forget just how long the space is; Tim is just making sure that the whole audience there will be able to see, and to a certain extent feel involved with, the whole production. This is especially important in the first scene, when the audience will effectively take the role of Richard's court.

In general, I don’t like performing either in traverse or in the round. This is especially the case in small studios; I find having an audience that close to us in such a small space too overwhelming. At the Globe however, I love playing in the round because the audience is close to the stage, but the distance (both vertical and horizontal) between actors and audience is slightly greater. Middle Temple Hall is a beautiful space, but it's tricky to play because there are so few exits. The last time I did Richard II was in the Cottesloe Theatre (part of the National Theatre), where the seats were set out in exactly the same way as Middle Temple Hall, (the stage was a long rectangle shape, with seats on both longer sides and at one end), except there were vomitoriums [see Glossary] in the middle of the longer sides, so the actors had four exits, not two. In Middle Temple Hall, only being able to enter and exit at either end of the space means there is a risk of getting stuck at the wrong end of the space and having to make a long tedious exit. Perhaps, if the company goes back to Middle Temple Hall in the future, they could consider putting in some exits half-way down each of the longer sides of the space. Having said that, it's a fantastic space with a sensational acoustic and I’m really looking forward to performing there.

At the moment, it feels as though the production could change every night because our preparation has been so thorough. It's very fluid. Perhaps Tim [Carroll] will choose to nail it down a bit more over the next few days, after all, we haven’t run the play that many times yet. But it's all looking good at the moment.

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Character Notes 5

These comments are the actor's thoughts or ideas about the part as s/he goes through the rehearsal process – they are simply his/her own interpretations and frequently change as the rehearsal process progresses.

There are three weeks left before Edward II opens but I haven’t been called for many rehearsals – apart from the battle jig practices. This is a choreographed dance that represents a fight: we gesture as though we’re slashing, advancing and defending; it has a ritual feel because of the three-time rhythm which is very solemn and powerful. I won’t actually be dancing though, because at that point I’m Spencer Senior and full body armour doesn’t let you move in a very sprightly way! Instead I bang out the rhythm with the drummers. I’m playing several small parts in Edward II – Spencer Senior, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and Lightborne. Lightborne's scenes at the end of the play are just lovely. He's an assassin; my first impression was that he was incredibly spooky and clever. He belongs in the shadows, and keeps his methods secret. I’ve done some historical research, but I’ve not got bogged down in it because the history behind Edward II has been so compressed and re-worked. Personally I felt that rehearsals began with the read-through which helped clarify the action; Edward II has twenty-five short scenes and there are no locations to help keep track of the action via the setting. I’m in twelve of the twenty-five scenes, playing three different characters so it's crucial that I get to grips with the thread of the story in my own mind.

Richard II is going well. Instead of feeling nervous on our first night at the Globe, I felt very secure. I always rather dread the huge ‘this England’ speech [II.1] just because it is so famous, but I find it easier to relax at the Globe. I treat the audience that surrounds me as ‘this England’ and when they respond, I get that extra sense of connection which lends a real security. It makes it easier to say the lines as simply and deftly as possible; they feel like they come naturally. The transfer from Middle Temple Hall to the Globe stage has really been quite smooth; only the jig caused problems. I couldn’t visualise the lateral arrangement we had at Middle Temple Hall in another space: to make it fit, we had to split the original arrangement in half and turn it round the other way, if that makes sense. It has taken us ages to figure out which directions we should be moving in, because we seem to begin in a completely different formation. During tech week, I had to transpose one space onto the other whenever we got to the jig: ‘now I’m facing down Middle Temple Hall, now I’m facing across Middle Temple Hall stage’. The choreography of the rest of the play wasn’t a problem, as most of the company are familiar with the Globe space and know what to look out for. Our movements aren’t rigidly blocked – we don’t follow the same movements every night which keeps everyone on their toes. Some things happen stage left one night, then stage right the next and I enjoy reacting to these changes. The transfer also made me notice how phenomenally focused the audience is here, with so many potential distractions – especially the aeroplanes and helicopters! That is one thing I certainly did not miss playing at Middle Temple Hall. The helicopters seem to pick the most awkward moments to hover over us, and it drives me mad.

Earlier in the run at Middle Temple Hall, I was unhappy with Act I, scene 2 [Richard II]. I’m pleased that the scene has found where it wants to be on the Globe stage. At Middle Temple Hall, I felt that the distance between Gaunt and the Duchess of Gloucester was too great. She moved down to the end of the Hall, and my instinct was always to go and comfort her – ‘I know what its like, be brave, it must be terrible’ – but the distance meant I couldn’t. Gaunt's wife died (he probably commissioned Chaucer to write The Book of the Duchess in honour of her memory), so he did know what it was like to lose someone so close. It's important that she's seen as isolated, but she had a very long exit, from one end of the Hall to the other, after her final lines:

Desolate, desolate will I hence and die.
The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye.

(I.2.73-4)

We do play it quite far apart at the Globe, but there is a better balance. I go and hold her hands when she talks about her empty House at Pleshy:

Alack, and what shall good old York there see
But empty lodgings and unfurnished walls,
Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones,
And what hear there for welcome but my groans?

(I.2.67-70)

I express frustration, because ultimately she is having a go at me, but there's tenderness and compassion in the mix too, and I hope my movements reflect that. I’ve noticed the scene doesn’t really move the audience; this is the first time they see a man playing a female part in Richard II and the novelty perhaps takes them by surprise: they have to get used to a different convention. There have been a couple of laughs, but Peter [Shorey, the Duchess of York] does a great job. Also, I think it's too early in the play to expect the audience to be truly moved; they don’t know the character. Her grief is really something that comes out of history – the audience don’t see it emerge.

If I’m honest, I’d have to say I’m not very happy with the Garden scene [III.4, Richard II] at the moment. Maybe it's a personal preference – I’ve played the Gardener before and I just don’t find the scene very funny. There is usually a slight laugh when the Queen says ‘Pray God the plants thou graftest may never grow’ (l.101) and I cross myself as though that is the most horrific curse imaginable. I feel like the play doesn’t really need the scene, but it is important in the realization the Queen's tragedy. You have to look at how each scene fits into the overall structure of the play. My costume for the Gardener is made of wool, which doesn’t make the scene easier to play in the height of summer. My Gaunt outfit is lined and the heat just disperses, so that's much more comfortable.

I’d have to say that I prefer playing at the Globe, despite the helicopters! Middle Temple Hall was a treat to perform in – the sense of history that comes with the knowledge that you are playing where Shakespeare himself performed is quite amazing. However, you just don’t get the same reactions from the audience. Middle Temple Hall is beautiful, but it is a formal kind of beauty that encourages awe rather than participation. The seats were more expensive so the audience is less diverse. I think it's the groundlings that really make the show; they’re fantastic! Their reactions help keep the play fresh, not that I think there's any chance of Richard II getting stale: every time I go onstage, I think ‘I’m going to forget my words’. I have to concentrate hard, although the lines feel like they’re embedded in my mind by now. It's a lovely position to be in; we’re completely confidant about Richard II and we’re constantly facing fresh challenges in rehearsals for Edward II. There's another big hurdle looming in the shape of press week, which is helping to keep me focused on Edward II. Having the same company is also useful in terms of the rehearsal process. Tim [Walker, Master of Play] got straight down to the text with us, putting it on the floor – whereas we did a lot of background work for Richard II. I’m enjoying the atmosphere in rehearsals, and it's nice to be familiar with what is required of you early on. A danger could be that we might possibly get stale, but I don’t think we will. The play is big enough to need all the work and hours God sends!

Activities

Look at Act I, Scene 3, when Richard II stops the trial-by-combat between Mowbray and Bolingbroke. He has ordered this combat and his court is waiting for the result. Suddenly, Richard calls off the fight. There follows a stage direction: ‘King Richard consults his nobles, then addresses the combatants’. John has asked you to write in with ideas about what the lords might say to Richard at his impromptu meeting:

‘Try to imagine what is said at the council meeting after Richard has cancelled the fight. Everybody should say something: Gaunt, Richard, Bushy, Bagot and Green. How does Gaunt feel about the fact that Richard has called off the fight and what should I say to the King? The situation at the beginning of the play is complex. Even though Shakespeare hasn’t written in these lines and the audience don’t hear what we say, it's important for characterisation that we know what happens in that council meeting.’

‘This is the one moment of the play that I dread because I never know what to say – every time we perform that scene it comes out differently. Mark Rylance who plays Richard II usually says something like ‘we are going to have terrible bloodshed and we have to find out who murdered Gloucester’. I think Gaunt might be angry at Richard's decision; I’ve been saying ‘why have you taken this decision out of God's hands? I thought divine justice was going to decide this quarrel’. I also found it helpful to think about their respective ages: Richard is a young man and Gaunt is old. Try saying the lines in different ways and send in the ideas you think worked best.’

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