"Doctor Faustus" - Richmond Shakespeare Theatre, 2007

Doctor Faustus

by Christopher Marlowe, adapted by Jeffrey Watkins

Richmond Shakespeare Theatre

In association with the Acts of Faith Festival

February – March 2007

Having directed a demonic Iago in the previous year’s Othello, I was apparently Richmond Shakespeare’s go-to guy for supernatural evil. Again, this was a shortened script, approximately 100 minutes with no intermission, but the cut was by Shakespeare Tavern (Atlanta) artistic director Jeffrey Watkins. This adaptation reduced the cast to two, with one actor (David White) playing Faustus and the other (Graham Birce) playing the remainder. At the Tavern, Mephistophilis was a gleeful tormentor, torturing Faustus every day by forcing him to re-live the events of his fall anew every day.

Our production was much more cynical than Watkins’. If Faustus is damned, so is Mephistophilis. They were portrayed as cellmates in a hellish prison or mental institution, the ever-wakeful Mephistophilis rousing Faustus anew every morning to replay the same events over and over each day until the end of time. Faustus has no memory that it has happened before; Mephistophilis remembers every detail and every repetition. Neither will ever leave this room. Who is the more damned? (The original production concept, in fact, had been to have the actors swap roles every other night, but time constraints would not permit it.)

The show began with the space an utter mess; garbage and broken things everywhere, Faustus tied to his bed asleep in a position of just-completed struggle, Mephistophilis hovering spider-like over him on the headboard. Mephistophilis then activated, cleaning up everything, re-setting the entire scene, and untying Faustus, who he awoke violently. Instantly alert, Faustus started, “Settle thy studies, Faustus, and begin…”

Mephistophilis portrayed an array of characters in increasingly improbably fashion: the Good and Evil Angels were ragged sock puppets, the Emperor an old lecher in a Burger King Crown, Helen of Troy a long-necked wig stand with blonde hair, replaced at the moment of kissing contact by Mephistophilis’ own leering tongue. To summon his demon, Faustus created a machine out of Christmas lights, a hula hoop, Lego, an infant’s toy glued to a top hat, and the scene’s ever-present portable commode. The more improbable the image, the more ludicrous to the audience, the more Faustus was absolutely convinced of its reality. By the end of the play Faustus, rejected by God, was forcibly returned to his bed and bound there by Mephistophilis, the cycle re-initiated.

I was incredibly fortunate to have a pair of actors who were entirely committed and fearlessly physical. The rehearsal process was extremely collaborative, with actors very open to trying new things and director eager to see their suggestions. Many of the best images from the show came as a result of this ensemble performance generation process. Richmond Shakespeare often employs a two-headed directorial system, and Julie Phillips served as my Master of Verse, a role not dissimilar to a sort of uber-dramaturg but in this case more like a co-director.

Doctor Faustus was performed in a thrust, with equal audience on all three sides. The set consisted of a dirty-looking bed, a portable commode seat with a trash can underneath, an ancient footlocker, and a huge pile of used, crumpled, blood-stained contracts up against the wall. Universal lighting was employed, but only Mephistophilis was permitted to make eye contact with the audience. Costumes were ratty, distressed garb resembling that of concentration camp uniforms. Both actors insisted on being barefoot; their idea, not mine. Props were voluminous, largely consisting of broken toys and garbage. Mephistophilis’ face was tattooed on one side with arcane and planetary symbols. The music of King Crimson, all angles and discordance, underscored the show throughout.

Doctor Faustus ran for four weeks in the chapel at Second Presbyterian Church.

 Doctor Faustus (David White) explores and dismisses volumes of philosophy while Mephistophilis (Graham Birce) provides English translation. Photo by Andrew Hamm.

Faustus seems surprised that his demon-summoning machine, constructed from broken toys and garbage, has actually summoned a demon. Photo by Andrew Hamm.

Mephistophilis advances on Faustus, the time for the good doctor to surrender his soul fast approaching. Photo by Andrew Hamm.

Style Weekly: "The production succeeds at making the play easy to talk about despite the challenge of interpreting the flowery English. But the cast manages to harness the emotional currents that flow through the words and illustrate the ideas for the audience despite their arcane syntax. This takes stamina, especially with only two actors.... The audience becomes kids in front of an Advent calendar, waiting to see what crafty prop stunt the actors would pull next."

Richmond Times-Dispatch: "[I]n the adaptation by the Atlanta Shakespeare Company's Jeff Watkins, and filtered through the sensibility of Richmond Shakespeare Theatre, it's a pared-down, souped-up showcase for two actors, a small menagerie of stuffed animals and some sock puppets. There's also a portable commode, Christmas lights and a nod to the movie 'Groundhog Day.' The production, part of the Richmond area's Acts of Faith Festival, shows the influence of master of play Andrew Hamm, who has a strong flair for physicality. Under his direction, the two actors, Graham Birce and David White, fling themselves and each other around the parquet stage with great energy....  For all its wackiness, the serious aspects of 'Doctor Faustus' are still in place."

"Othello" - Richmond Shakespeare Theatre, 2006

Othello

by William Shakespeare

Richmond Shakespeare Theatre
In association with the Acts of Faith Festival 

February – April 2006

This was a five-actor production of Shakespeare’s tragedy abbreviated to 95 minutes in length in order to accommodate school performances. It performed a ten-week run in the chapel at Second Presbyterian Church as part of Richmond’s annual Acts of Faith Festival, and was accompanied by several artistic-theological discussions. Each of the three men played one role each (Othello, Iago, Cassio), and the two women played multiple parts filling out the cast.

The first act was cut almost in entirety, replaced by a movement prologue employing Iago (Robin Pierce)’s “I follow him to serve my turn upon him” speech as a means for him to move the other actors around the stage like chess pieces. This prologue concluded with Othello (Thomas Nowlin)’s beautiful description of his wooing of Desdemona (Dorothy Pawlawski), transitioning from “This is the only witchcraft I have used” to the arrival of the ships at Cyprus.

The story was primarily that of Iago, who was portrayed as a possibly supernatural being, deferential and friendly in dialogue, but hissing and angular in his direct audience address, his entire physicality transforming. The primary document used in this portrayal was C.S. Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters; Iago was depicted as a master tempter, able to use everyone’s greatest weaknesses skillfully against them, and gleeful in personal destruction for its own sake. Cassio and Othello, of course, bear responsibility for their actions as well; it is only Desdemona who is ultimately blameless, even neglecting to accuse her husband of her own murder in a final act of forgiveness.

Design was minimal, a bed stage left and a bench downstage in a traditional proscenium staging (chosen to accommodate touring performances). Universal lighting was used in this show, as with all Richmond Shakespeare productions of this era, to increase actor-audience contact; this was particularly effective in Iago’s many soliloquies. Base costumes indicating military-base relationships were augmented by simple add-ons (a hat, a scarf, a sword belt) to indicate character changes.

The violence, as with much of the prologue, was performed in slow motion, with percussive moments of impact: Cassio (Ted Carter)’s stabbing of Roderigo, Iago’s stabbing of Emilia (Cynde Liffick), and the moment of Desdemona’s trachea being crushed.

Othello ran for ten weeks in the chapel at Second Presbyterian Church.

Iago (Robin Pierce) manipulates chess pieces, with the rest of the cast moving in sync behind him as a result. Photo by Andrew Hamm.

 

Othello (Thomas Nowlin) strangles Desdemona (Dorothy Pawlawski) with her own scarf. Photo by Andrew Hamm.

 

Othello (Thomas Nowlin) folds Desdemona's scarf like a flag in preparation for his suicide. Photo by Andrew Hamm.

Richmond Times-Dispatch: "This is a high school student's dream [and] an "Othello" for any Shakespeare lover."

"Joe Jackson's Night and Day" - RF&P Forum, 2004

Joe Jackson’s Night and Day

Music and lyrics by Joe Jackson

Adapted and arranged for the stage by Andrew Hamm

RF&P Forum at the Science Museum of Virginia, Richmond, VA

April 2004

My MFA thesis at Virginia Commonwealth University was a world-premiere concert musical production of music Grammy-winning Oscar-nominated composer/songwriter Joe Jackson. Compiled from Jackson’s two New York City-themed albums Night and Day (1982) and Night and Day II (2004), the show featured a six-piece band, seven vocalists, one backstage actor performing via closed-circuit TV, and an entire stage, lighting system, and sound system assembled in an enormous conference hall one night for two performances and a strike immediately after closing.

The songs on the album were disassembled and reconfigured into a narrative structure telling the “story” of a songwriter trying to find the perfect song to encapsulate the experience of New York City. The songwriter (myself) enters the space from the house, frantically writing on a small notepad the song he has been writing in his head on the way home from work. At home at his digital piano, he plays a ballad-y version of what we recognize as Jackson’s iconic song, “Steppin’ Out,” but he stops halfway through, disgusted. An attempt to add percussion results in the slow entry of the rest of the cast; a drummer takes over the beat, a gypsy cellist (Becca Bernard) sets up her corner performance complete with a hat for donations, and so on until the stage is filled with people he has encountered in the city, some at instruments and some at microphones.

Over the course of the show’s two acts, songs are performed by and about these people and their experiences: gawking tourist (Lorri Lindberg), flamboyant gay (Eric Fletcher), teenage stripper (Julia Rigby) and the older sister who has come looking for her (Catherine Nelson), homeless street prophet (Brad Brubaker), construction worker (Joe Evans on percussion), cocky businessman (Philip Hamm on bass) and so forth. The songs span the spectrum of New York experience: “Stranger than You” and “Another World” as an introduction to the baffling diversity of the environment, “Breaking Us in Two” a paean of regret over lost love, “TV Age,” “Target” and “Just Because” the hard edges of fear and paranoia, “Dear Mom” the search for a lost sister with “Glamour and Pain” the sad reality of the sister’s broken life, “Real Men” a cry for a clear sense of identity, and so forth. By the end of the experience, the songwriter finds himself ruminating on the whole experience, and finding the rhythm that becomes a full-company celebratory version of “Steppin’ Out.” As a coda, he sums it up: “I think I’ll ‘Stay’.”

The set consisted of the immovable musical instruments, dressed to represent city environments; up left the keyboards were dressed as a studio apartment, up center the percussion set was wrapped in caution tape and blocked off with traffic cones, up right the drum kit was surrounded by garbage, which the cast pulled necessary props and costumes out of. Three televisions, one in the drums and one in the apartment, were linked to a backstage camera for the TV Face (Sally dae Courtois) of act two’s “TV Age.” The sound (run by Tim Crews) was as simple as a 13-piece band can be, but Andy Waters’ lighting design squeezed every bit of utility as could be managed from 16 instruments and a small fader board. Both houses were full, with some audience members hearing about the show on the Joe Jackson Archive website and traveling from out of state.

The difficult task of directing a show in which I was also appearing as a performer was made much more manageable by the addition of Matthew Ellis as assistant director. In late stages, Math came in to provide an outside eye for the process, and his input was invaluable. Tonia Campanella, part of the cast already, applied her research expertise in stage sex choreography to intimate moments in "Dear Mom" and "Glamour and Pain."

JJND started as an experiment, an attempt to find common ground between the presentational techniques of both concert and theatre. What we learned immediately was that it worked beyond our wildest expectations. Plans were in the works for a 2005 professional production in Richmond, but personal circumstances necessitated a cancelation. The thesis workshop was performed with Jackson’s blessing, and his management remains interested in a professional production.

"Another World:" cellist Becca Bernard and violinist Anna Sosa chair dance between string parts, with Philip Hamm laying down the bass behind.

"Another World:" tourist Lorri Lindberg finds herself delighted at the city's people: Catherine Nelson, Tonia Campanella, Julia Rigby and Eric Fletcher.

"Stranger than You:" Tonia Campanella, Catherine Nelson, Eric Fletcher, Brad Brubaker and Julia Rigby, armed with random garbage.

"Dear Mom:" Catherine Nelson searches the city for her runaway sister (Julia Rigby), seen performing a lap dance for a customer (Brad Brubaker).

"Breaking Us in Two:" The songwriter (Andrew Hamm, far left) faces off with his lost love (Tonia Campanella, far right).

"Cancer:" Percussionist Joe Evans and drummer Adam Young lay down the Latin groove while the homeless Brad Brubaker expounds on his fears, real and imagined.

"TV Age:" The sex-soaked face and voice of Sally Dae Courtois (in the television) numb the souls of Julia Rigby, Eric Fletcher and Brad Brubaker.

"Glamour and Pain:" Julia Rigby.

"Just Because:" Catherine Nelson, Tonia Campanella, Julia Rigby and Eric Fletcher sing "Just because you're paranoid don't mean they're not out to get you." Photos by Candace Anderson.