the rest is səɪlence

M and I have spent the last nine weeks, the entirety of her third trimester, rehearsing and performing Hamlet in the "original pronunciation," that is, not imposing an accent but adhering to the phonology and vowel forms of late sixteenth century England. I was rather skeptical of the endeavor at first, especially since to my mind communication with the audience is the primary goal, and our student actors have, in the past, had a hard enough time getting to the point where they knew what they were saying and could find a way for their character to impel and require those particular words for specific purposes. This is the first and foremost goal of Shakespearean acting, and I thought that "OP" would simply be an obstacle to that. And it was, but not an insurmountable one.

The bigger obstacle, and an entirely predictable one, is that the play has gone into M's full-term period. We toyed with the idea of a pregnant Gertrude (or "Gɑɹtrəd ") back in March when we conceived and she declared that she wanted to audition anyway. It absolutely works for the play, and inserts many new colors to the usual ambiguities about her character, and of course the poisoning is horrific to watch. What it also does is make my wife unsure whether her legs will hold her, after an eight hour day and a six-hour performance (with warm-ups, fight calls and dance calls).

We have one more performance, starting in a couple hours, and while I will miss the ensemble bond, I will be very VERY glad to have some rest and silence.

Prodigy

My son gets to play his first Shakespearean role at the age of negative one month, this coming November. There aren't many lines in the role of Hamlet's unborn brother, but I feel as though it's more of a physical part, anyway. And you know what they say, no small parts, only small actors. In this case a small actor, all of whose parts are also quite small.

I must admit I'm a little torn about playing Claudius to M's Gertrude while she's in her third trimester. I love being onstage with her, and it's likely to be a really excellent production, but I can think of better ways to nest than a sure-to-be-grueling rehearsal process for one of the most challenging tragedies ever written. At least it's not Macbeth. And then there's the metadramatic aspect. Playing a would-be father to a hostile young man who refuses to play the role of a son, who idealizes the absent father that I can never be will either be a wonderful way for me to play through some of my own anxieties about fatherhood, or it will just fuck with my head.

Pregnant Gertrude. If you think about it long enough, it kind of works, and brings lots of interesting issues in the play to the fore. And if nothing else, it'll really give certain lines punch: "Gertrude, do not drink!" springs to mind as an example.