Shakespeare References in Dear Me

Peter Ustinov’s autobiography Dear Me contains a lot of Shakespeare references. The first is to Shakespeare himself, with Ustinov writing, “And, after all, he was in good company, since as great a writer as Shakespeare could never decide exactly how his own name should be spelled” (p. 27). The next is to Othello, with Ustinov talking about his own jealousy, and how he considered jealousy to be a “base and fundamentally stupid vice.” He goes on: “Othello, clutching his handkerchief and rolling his eyes, has always struck me as a bit of an ass, and I only began to lose my lofty sense of ignorance in the face of jealousy when I became a father of more than a single child myself, and could watch human relations in their most unsophisticated form, in the nursery” (p. 55). We then get a mention of Romeo And Juliet: “How could Tristan and Isolde have survived if there had been a child, or Romeo and Juliet? All the poetry would have been lost in irritation at feeding time” (p. 63). Then, regarding his parents’ love story, he says, “Nor would Shakespeare have been right, as an author” (p. 63). A little later he again refers to Romeo And Juliet: “They realized they would have to part, like star-crossed lovers, since the weight of race and geopolitics lay too heavy in the balance; mere personal affection had to make way for great historical realities” (p. 77). And this: “with the result that the shipboard Romeo went to the B.B.C.” (p. 171). Regarding cigars, Ustinov writes: “What would we prefer, Uppmann, Hoyo de Monterey, Punch, Romeo y Julieta, Henry Clay?” (p. 173). This book contains a lot of reference to Romeo And Juliet, in part because Peter Ustinov wrote a play titled Romanoff And Juliet, and there are many mentions of this play. Ustinov writes, “When, many years later, I performed my play Romanoff and Juliet on Broadway, I used the sets of M. Jean-Denis Malcles, a leading French artist” (p. 89). And then later: “I had been writing Romanoff and Juliet” (p. 251). And then: “But by then, I had already completed Romanoff and Juliet, a three-act play absolutely neo-classical in form” (p. 256). And then: “The theme was a variation on the tragic love of Romeo and Juliet, with Romeo as son of the Soviet Ambassador and Juliet the daughter of the American Ambassador. The intractable families, the Capulets and the Montagues, were replaced by the governments of the U.S.A. and the U.S.S.R., and the scene was a small neutral country” (p. 257). And then: “Romanoff and Juliet opened at the Piccadilly Theatre in London and was an immediate success” (p. 258). And: “Was all this inherent in Romanoff and Juliet?” (p. 265). And “During the run of Romanoff and Juliet, I accepted an invitation to play tennis in the Soviet Embassy in London” (p. 266). And “I came out of Romanoff and Juliet, and was told by a celebrated doctor that I would have to wear a corset for life and that tennis was out of the question for the same length of time” (p. 267). And: “Before performing Romanoff and Juliet in America, I shot a film in Paris” (p. 268). And: “I was none too enthusiastic, since I felt I had exhausted the subject of the Russians and the Americans in Romanoff and Juliet, and I also sensed that nothing that might happen on the moon could not happen more effectively and more comprehensibly here on Earth” (p. 272). And: “The year of Romanoff and Juliet ended, and we went straight to Hollywood” (p. 273). And: “They said they would be interested in a film version of my play Romanoff and Juliet, so long as it cost no more than $750,000” (p. 285). And: “Bob Krasker was the cameraman, as he had been in Romanoff and Juliet” (p. 288).

But there are many other Shakespeare references in this book. At one point he mentions several plays that he wrote, including “a Pirandello-like drama entitled Uneasy Lies The Head, in which the characters created by reprehensible dramatist come to life and badger him into an introspective suicide” (p. 98). That play’s title is a reference to a line from The Second Part Of King Henry The Fourth, “Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.” Then we get a reference to Shakespeare: “‘I don’t know what kind of parts you can play,’ he said coolly – ‘Shakespearean clowns a la rigueur, and then… Shakespearean clowns are not wanted every day’” (p. 112). A little later, he writes, “Now I was offered the understudy of George Devine, who was going to play Lopakhin, which was not bad going for a Shakespearean clown in retirement before the start of his career” (p. 116). And then: “I enjoyed my success to the full, especially since I had made a small breakthrough without the overwhelming assistance of Shakespeare and one of his incomprehensible clowns, and without ever having had to understudy or to carry a spear in Laurence Olivier’s Macbeth, which some of my chosen contemporaries had had the privilege of doing” (p. 120). And, only two pages later: “Shakespeare gave his actors more elbow-room than they really needed” (p. 122). Then: “He had, apparently, been assistant stage-manager at the Shakespeare Festivals in Regent’s Park” (p. 138). Peter Ustinov mentions Shakespeare fairly often in this book. Here is another instance: “‘Because the greatest psychiatric literature was written before Freud,’ I suggested. ‘Shakespeare and Dostoievsky achieved by sheer observation and instinct what no one has been able to achieve since these seas were charted’” (p. 156). And then: “I left them arguing fiercely about Shakespeare, Dostoievsky, Freud, Jung, and their man at Watford” (p. 156).

Regarding his play The Moment Of Truth, Ustinov writes, “It was the title chosen because the producers feared the original one, King Lear’s Photographer, would sound facetious” (p. 164). And then he adds: “There are other King Lears on record: Hindenburg, Badoglio, Franco. It was the tragedy of a man who outlives his life, if I may coin a phrase, and of another man who pragmatically exploits the reputation of this living legend” (p. 164). A little later he writes, “One distinguished admiral was even compelled to admit to Edith Evans, ‘By Jove, I’m embarrassed to say that this is the first play by Shakespeare I’ve seen since Richard of Bordeaux!’” (p. 182). And no, the play in question was not Shakespeare’s. There is also a reference to one of Shakespeare’s most beloved characters: “He was then playing Falstaff at the Old Vic, and in the finest fettle” (p. 197). The Shakespeare references continue: “The conviction was growing in me that, whereas Shakespeare was admittedly the greatest of our playwrights, there was a general recognition of the fact that Sir Arthur Pinero was the best of them. To attempt any kind of an emulation of Shakespeare was, of course, foolhardy on a purely artistic level, but quite apart from that, it was also regarded as a form of heresy, an act of shocking self-confidence, whereas an emulation of Pinero was eminently acceptable” (p. 208).

Peter Ustinov also refers to Hamlet: “It is no error that ‘To be or not to be, that is the question’ is an essay in profundity which has become the property of all, even if the vast majority have not the faintest notion of how the speech continues. And yet, what the hell does it mean? It is merely a key to what follows, which is unknown to most people, and yet it is accepted as the acme of human vision by those who have never bothered to examine it or to open the door to which it is the key. ‘The evil that men do lives after them,’ ‘Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown’, ‘To be or not to be’: Shakespeare, thank God was not afraid of squareness” (pages 220-221). The line “The evil that men do lives after them” is from Julius Caesar, and “Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown” is from The Second Part Of King Henry The Fourth. The book contains another mention of Othello: “Her name was Suzanne Cloutier, and she was a young French-Canadian actress who had played Desdemona in Orson Welles’s film of Othello” (pages 238-239). King Lear is then mentioned again: “the first playing a kind of free paraphrase on both Marshal Petain and King Lear” (p. 241). Later Ustinov writes, regarding Laurence Olivier, “He has played sufficient Shakespearean villains superbly well to have a great confidence in his own powers of persuasion” (p. 276). King Lear is mentioned again: “Knowing that Laughton was shortly to attempt the role of King Lear at Stratford, rather late in life, Larry gave him some hints as to where the dead spots were to be found on the stage as far as acoustics were concerned, a solicitude which Laughton interpreted as veiled hostility in the guise of ostentatious comradeship” (p. 276). More about Olivier: “His Richard III had a hypnotic power, an evil elegance and wit the like of which I had never seen before, and have not seen since, and in certain comic parts his imaginative brio is quite superlative. For my taste, his Hamlet, prefixed as the story of a man ‘who could not make up his mind’, was rather less suited to him, since of all actors he is the most difficult to imagine as one who has not made up his mind” (p. 278). Kiss Me Kate, which is based on The Taming Of The Shrew, is also mentioned: “Ponnelle meanwhile had a dress-rehearsal of Kiss Me Kate at Dusseldorf” (p. 292). And then we get a mention of The Tempest: “more especially since The Magic Flute is a kind of pantomime, with something of a popular farce and something of The Tempest, its grave moments sublimely elevated by Mozart on to a celestial plane” (p. 293). There is also a play on one of Othello’s most famous line, with Ustinov writing, “Don Giovanni, described by Mozart and Da Ponte as a Dramma Giocosa, had been brainwashed even more thoroughly than The Magic Flute by the intervening generations of those who loved their opera unwisely, but too well” (p. 294). Othello’s line is “Then must you speak/Of one that loved not wisely, but too well.” There is also a reference to one of Antony’s famous lines from Julius Caesar: “that the old teacher produced the unkindest cut of all, in guise of the greatest compliment he could pay” (p. 316). Antony’s line, referring to Brutus stabbing Caesar, is “This was the most unkindest cut of all.” This book actually concludes with a reference to Hamlet, Ustinov writing, “Don’t mention it, all too solid flesh” (p. 350).

Dear Me was published in 1977. It was published by Penguin Books in 1978, reprinted in 1979.

A Christmas Carol (A Noise Within 2021 Production) Theatre Review

In these strange and rather twisted times, we can all use a story of redemption and forgiveness. We can appreciate and enjoy a story of a selfish man undergoing a change of heart, for it gives us hope for the larger world. And what’s more, we can all use a little magic in our lives. A Noise Within gives us that in its current production of A Christmas Carol, adapted from the Charles Dickens novella by Geoff Elliott, who also co-directed the play and stars as Ebenezer Scrooge.

Before the performance begins, the stage is bathed in purple and gold light, with gold holiday lights hanging above, and a series of golden bulbs dangling above the seats, helping to pull the audience into the magical realm of the production as soon as they enter the theatre. There is also green light on the backdrop and blue lights on the sides, and the overall effect is pretty. Some bare trees are upstage left, giving us the sense of winter, a time of sleep, which of course plays a big part in the story. Just before the performance begins, a platform is lowered, connecting the front of the stage to one of the aisles, which is made use of for entrances and exits by the cast. They often enter from other aisles as well, further immersing the audience in the world of the play.

When we first meet Ebenezer Scrooge, he has an umbrella in one hand, a cane in the other, and smacks one of the trees with the cane, a humorous and effective way of establishing his character before even a line of dialogue is spoken. The play has a narrator (Frederick Stuart), who effectively works as the voice of Charles Dickens, reading lines straight out of the story. Yet from his delivery, we get the sense he has some affection for the old man, even as he describes his miserly ways. There is a rather sweet and light tone here, which works in part because all of us (or most of us, anyway) know this story and know where it’s going. And, hey, is it horrible of me to kind of side with Scrooge when he shuts up the carolers? And perhaps that is the point here. We kind of like the guy, just as the narrator kind of likes him. So when he is redeemed, we in the audience perhaps feel a need to change ourselves as well. I love that the narrator comments “Nobody under the bed” before Ebenezer looks there, which makes Scrooge appear somewhat foolish, but also obstinate even when alone. He is going to check regardless of what the narrator has said. Of course, Ebenezer is not alone for long.

The entrance of the ghost of Marley (Jeremy Rabb) is fantastic, his chains stretching all the way to the ceiling at the back of the audience, as if some greater power resides up there, a power which can yank him back at any moment. Jeremy Rabb was wonderful as Camillo in last year’s production of The Winter’s Tale (which went up before the pandemic shut everything down), and gives another delightful performance as Marley, in a wild white wig. As he enters, several other chains descend upon the stage, immediately changing Ebenezer’s chamber into a scary place, dominated by a sense of powerlessness. The sound changes as well, with Marley’s “Business?” echoed in a strong and eerie manner. And the chains do pull Marley back, leading to his “My time is nearly gone” line. It is a spectacular scene, and yet somehow this production is able to match that in its introductions of the other three spirits that visit Ebenezer. The first, the Ghost of Christmas Past (played by Deborah Strang, who was excellent as Paulina in that production of The Winter’s Tale and also did a great job as Prospero several years back), enters on a swing above the stage. Wearing a white dress and a black top hat, she seems the perfect vision to lead Ebenezer into his dream world, to a place where women in pink wigs dance. And it isn’t long before we see some change in Scrooge, for, perhaps without even realizing it, he, caught up in the scene playing out before him, dances a bit himself.

The Ghost of Christmas Present is quite a sight, like a giant, jolly holiday decoration himself, like a Christmas tree hung with fruit and leaves. He is played by Alan Blumenfeld, who was also delightful as the Shepherd in The Winter’s Tale. When the narrator says, “which was not dispelled for a full five minutes,” the Ghost of Christmas Present waves his wand and those five minutes are gone, a cute moment, and one in keeping with the magical sense of the entire production. The third spirit, Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, is frightening, a silent being of shadow and darkness, with twigs for arms, an ominous presence. He is played by Jose Donado, who did an excellent job as Theseus in a recent production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The thieves are delightful, even before their song (and their song is great). While not completely a musical, this production does contain quite a bit of music. The original music score is by Robert Oriol.

All of the set pieces are on wheels, allowing for an easy and quick change of scenery, and also adding to the magical, dreamlike atmosphere of the production. For in dreams scenes change without warning, and people move from one place to another often without effort. Of course, this also helps keep the production moving at a brisk pace, for this performance is done without intermission, a breezy ninety minutes or so. The original scenic concept was done by Jeanine A. Ringer, and the costume design by Angela Balogh Calin. The production was directed by Geoff Elliott and Julia Rodriguez-Elliott. In addition to the actors already mentioned, this production features Kasey Mahaffy as Mr. Cratchit, Emily Kosloski as Mrs. Cratchit, Rafael Goldenstein as Fred, Sydney A Mason as Fred’s Wife, Roshni Shukla as Belle, Gioya Tuma-Waku as Martha Cratchit, Darius De La Cruz as Peter Cratchit, and Aarush Mehta as Tiny Tim (he celebrated his birthday at the end of today’s performance). Stella Bullock, Amalia “Molly” Morris, Kwayi Grimstad Ndjamen and Clara Duffy play the other Cratchit children.

This production runs through December 23rd, and there are both matinee and evening performances between now and then, including two performances on both December 22nd and December 23rd. Check the official website for A Noise Within for the complete schedule. And be prepared to show your vaccination card upon entering the theatre.

Henry VI Part 1 (Shakespeare By The Sea 2021 Production) Theatre Review

Outdoor theatre in December? Sure thing! After all, this is southern California, and the pandemic hasn’t yet come to a close. In better times, Shakespeare By The Sea travels all around the area in the summer, bringing two of Shakespeare’s plays to various parks. The pandemic caused the company to remain in San Pedro the last two seasons, performing virtually, filming the productions from a stage built in the parking lot outside their theatre in San Pedro. Then, this summer, with more and more people being vaccinated, they invited an audience to enjoy productions of Richard III and Love’s Labour’s Lost, and now their latest production, a staged reading of one of Shakespeare’s rarely performed plays, The First Part Of King Henry The Sixth. And even though it’s southern California, it still gets cold at night, so the audience came prepared, bundled up in coats, scarves, even furs.

The stage and backdrop were all black, the only color being a basket of white roses and a basket of red roses, set on either side of the main entrance up center, highlighting the division within the kingdom. Before the performance began, pink lights bathed the stage on the side with the red roses, while blue and white lights shone on the side with the white roses. The set itself was fairly simple, with a black bench positioned up right, and a sword seemingly embedded in the stage just down from the bench. There were chairs off to either side of the stage that the audience was instructed not to sit on as they entered, and these chairs were used by the cast when not on stage. The cast also used those areas to change costumes, as most actors played more than one character.

The performance began at 7:10 p.m., with Brendan Kane as Henry VI also functioning as a chorus or narrator, giving short bits of information to help the audience keep the many characters and situations clear. And he remains a presence on stage through much of the performance, often observing from upstage. Though it is a staged reading (with some actors more off book than others), the cast is in period costumes. The play begins with the funeral of Henry V, and the cast indicates that the king’s body is downstage center through looks and gestures rather than actually having someone play the dead king. Exeter’s line “We mourn in black” stands out in part because of the color of the set, helping to show that all the action that is to take place on the stage is the result, more or less, of Henry V’s death. Though some male characters are played by women in this production, those characters seem to retain their gender, as shown when Winchester (Mark Rimer) tells Gloucester (played by Jane Hink) “Thy wife is proud.”

Joan La Pucell (played by Olivia Schlueter-Corey, who was phenomenal as Katharine in the company’s 2019 production of Henry V) enters in chain mail and carrying a sword. She speaks with a vibrant energy, and it is clear from her voice and the way she carries herself that she is sure of herself. Not a trace of worry can be detected. When Charles (Azim Rizk) challenges Joan to combat, he lifts the sword from the stage. The combat is brief, and Charles is on his knees when delivering his line about being her servant, making clear his sexual attraction to her. By the way, the sword is then returned to its spot in the stage, to be used at various times throughout the performance. For example, Henry VI hands it to Talbot (Patrick Vest) to fight Joan after the death of Salisbury (Bridget Garwood). Joan at this point has a joy that borders on arrogance in her delivery, even before entering with Charles, triumphant.

As for the famous choosing-of-the-roses scene, I love that Richard Plantagenet (Jonathan Fisher) looks around and sees the roses before delivering that line about plucking a white rose. You get the sense that it is only because the roses are handy, and if the roses hadn’t been present, it might have some other thing at hand he would have chosen to represent his side. That moment, in showing the roses were basically an arbitrary symbol, also helps illustrate the sort of juvenile aspect to the whole division. This production does have a bit of re-ordering of certain scenes, with the roses scene happening before Talbot is lured by a messenger to the castle of the Countess of Auvergne. That scene with Lord Talbot and the Countess (Pantea Ommi Mohajer) is fantastic, both actors delivering good performances. I especially love the playfulness of the Countess in teasing Talbot, and her sudden change once she sees the soldiers. Another excellent moment is when the French call a parley with Burgundy (Mark Rimer). I imagine it might be difficult to portray such a sudden shift in allegiance, but Rimer does a really good job as he is swayed by Joan’s words. Then Brendan Kane is great in the scene where he meets Talbot, particularly his delivery of the speech where he tells Talbot “Because till now we never saw your face.”

Another highlight of this production is the scene where Henry VI is crowned and then tries to forge a peace between Plantagenet and Somerset. It is an exciting scene, because here is the king finally acting as king, and he can’t even bring peace among his own people. And the look of shock on his face when the quarrel continues is excellent. Perhaps in that moment he senses his own weakness, but doesn’t give up his effort. Brendan Kane also plays the young John Talbot, turning in another good performance. The scenes with the two Talbots are quite moving, especially their deaths. Patrick Vest shines there. What Brendan Kane really nails in his portrayal of Henry VI is his youth. That look of shock when his words fail to have an immediate and lasting effect is a perfect example. But also excellent is his initial response of surprise when the subject of his marriage is raised. And then he quickly changes as he realizes his duty, a nice moment. And speaking of change, Olivia Schlueter-Corey as Joan displays a great change in her demeanor when she kneels in seeking the help of the spirits and does not receive it. We see clearly that underneath that proud and haughty exterior, there is a frightened person who will soon try all sorts of pretexts to avoid her execution.

Roberto Williams and Bridget Garwood as Suffolk and Margaret respectively are wonderful and funny in the wooing scene. Suffolk kisses Margaret on the cheek on “Farewell, sweet madam” rather than on “And this withal.” After Suffolk’s “But I will rule both her, the king, and the realm,” there is another short speech given by Henry VI, which concludes the performance. The last words are “made their England bleed,” which is actually taken from the Chorus’ speech at the end of Henry The Fifth. The performance ended at 9:17 p.m.

This production was directed by Stephanie Coltrin, and the performance includes one fifteen-minute intermission, coming at the end of Act III. There were only two performances, but the performance last night was filmed, and will be available to watch online beginning December 19th at 2 p.m. On that date, there is also scheduled an online discussion with the director and cast. Visit the Shakespeare By The Sea website for more information.

Shakespeare References in Blood And Money

Thomas Thompson’s true crime book, Blood And Money, contains several Shakespeare references. The first is to Shakespeare himself, with Thompson writing, “Had he faced a firing squad and been told that his life would be spared only if he could quote from memory great chunks of Longfellow and Keats and Shakespeare, then he would walk away free and alive” (p. 10). Some of the references in this book are variations on lines from Shakespeare. For example, Thompson writes, “He owned a broken-down chestnut mare named Dot who had borne ten thousand young Houston children on her swayed back” (p. 28). This is a variation on Hamlet’s line to Horatio, “He hath borne me on his back a thousand times.” The next reference to is The Merchant Of Venice, with Thompson writing, “In numerous tellings, Ann had so refined and honed the ‘act of violence’ that it had become a set piece, a gothic monologue, her voice lowering and darkening in the suspenseful moments, then rising and coloring like Portia in the dock” (p. 266). Then we get another variation on a phrase invented by Shakespeare. Thompson writes, “Bennett returned to Texas with his law degree and a season of discontent” (p. 407). The opening line of Richard The Third is “Now is the winter of our discontent.” Then we have another Hamlet reference, Thompson quoting lawyer Bob Bennett, “And this is murder particularly foul, when you shoot a man until he is dead, and then go back and collect money from a defendant like this” (p. 503). This is a reference to the Ghost’s line “Murder most foul, as in the best it is.” The book’s final Shakespeare reference is to King Lear, Thompson writing “Now, just as the friend took his leave, turning the knob of Ash’s front door, grateful to leave as a theatergoer would be to depart the house of Lear, he ventured a rude question” (p. 509).

Blood And Money was originally published in 1976. I read the New Dell Edition, which was first printed in 1981.

Shakespeare References in Natives And Exotics

Jane Alison’s novel Natives And Exotics contains a couple of Shakespeare references. The first is to The Tempest, with Alison using a phrase coined by Shakespeare in that play. Alison writes: “‘Thin air,’ said Mr. Peterson. He stopped and took a deep breath” (p. 58). Prospero’s lines are: “These our actors,/As I foretold you, were all spirits and/Are melted into air, into thin air.” The second reference is to Hamlet, with Alison writing, “‘Good night, sweet prince!’ they chorused back” (p. 215). That is a reference to Horatio’s famous lines, “Good night, sweet prince,/And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.”

Natives And Exotics was published in 2005. The copy I read is an uncorrected proof.

Shakespeare References in Freed To Kill

Yes, Shakespeare references pop up everywhere, even in true crime books. Freed To Kill: The True Story Of Serial Murderer Larry Eyler, written by Gera-Lind Kolarik with Wayne Klatt, contains a couple of references. The first is to Macbeth, with Kolarik writing: “He was now a familiar figure on the street with his full beard and broad forehead, and he was devoting most of his time to supervising and training at the police academy. By now he could sense happenings in the hangouts as if by the pricking of his thumbs” (p. 26). That of course is a reference to the Second Witch’s famous lines, “By the pricking of my thumbs,/Something wicket this way comes.” The other reference is actually in a footnote at the end in the section titled “Constitutional Comment”: “George Anastaplo…has published several books, including The Artist As Thinker: From Shakespeare to Joyce (1983)” (p. 422).

Freed To Kill was originally published in 1990. The edition I read was the Avon Books printing, first published in 1992.

Shakespeare References in Determinism And Freedom In The Age Of Modern Science

This book, which was edited by Sidney Hook, features the thoughts of several philosophers and teachers on the subject of determinism. And it includes a couple of Shakespeare references. The first comes in the book’s first chapter, “The Case For Determinism,” written by Brand Blanshard. Blanshard writes, “‘The quarto and folio editions of mankind’ can follow the argument with fewer lapses than most of us; in the texts of the greatest of all dramas, we are told, there was seldom a blot or erasure; but Ben Jonson added, and no doubt rightly, that there ought to have been a thousand” (p. 28). Here Blanshard refers to Shakespeare’s works, and also to Ben Jonson’s famous line, regarding the idea that Shakespeare never blotted out a line: “Would he had blotted a thousand.” Then John Hospers in “What Means This Freedom?” refers to Hamlet. Hospers writes: “Premeditation, especially when it is so exaggerated as to issue in no action at all, can be the result of neurotic disturbance or what we sometimes call an emotional ‘block,’ which the person inherits from long-past situations. In Hamlet’s revenge on his uncle (I use this example because it is familiar to all of us), there was no lack, but rather a surfeit, of premeditation; his actions were so exquisitely premeditated as to make Freud and Dr. Ernest James look more closely to find out what lay behind them. The very premeditation camouflaged unconscious motives of which Hamlet himself was not aware. I think this is an important point, since it seems that the courts often assume that premeditation is a criterion of responsibility. If failure to kill his uncle had been considered a crime, every court in the land would have convicted Hamlet” (p. 128). Then, a bit later, Hospers writes: “The reasons may be rationalizations camouflaging unconscious motives of which the agent knows nothing. Hamlet gave many reasons for not doing what he felt it was his duty to do: the time was not right, his uncle’s soul might go to heaven, etc. His various ‘reasons’ contradicted one another, and if an overpowering compulsion had not been present, the highly intellectual Hamlet would not have been taken in for a moment by these rationalizations. The real reason, the Oedipal conflict that made his uncle’s crime the accomplishment of his own deepest desire, binding their fates into one and paralyzing him into inaction, was unconscious and of course unknown to him” (p. 129).

Determinism And Freedom In The Age Of Modern Science was published in 1958. The First Collier Books Edition was published in 1961.

King Lear (The Southern California Shakespeare Festival 2021 Online Production) Theatre Review

King Lear is arguably Shakespeare’s greatest play, presenting compelling characters, tackling important universal themes and confronting us with some of our deepest fears. When done well, King Lear never fails to move its audience, and the troupe making up The Southern California Shakespeare Festival does it well. For its seventeenth season, The Southern California Shakespeare Festival presents King Lear in an online production (because the pandemic is not yet a thing of the past). It is a modern dress production, which works to eliminate the distance that sometimes creeps in between an audience and a play when looking into the past. This is a Lear for right now, when families are fractured, deceit reigns, cruelty abounds, and we question our own reality and whether the gods even care.

During the opening conversation between Gloucester (Sam Robinson) and Kent (Samantha Kernaghan), we see Edmund (Christopher Martin), who looks up on Gloucester’s “This young fellow’s mother could,” indicating that he has heard their talk. We feel for Edmund in that moment, though he has something of a dark countenance from the beginning. As Lear (Matthew Reidy) enters to fanfare, he takes Cordelia (Renee Turner) by the hand and gives her a little kiss, showing from the start how she is favored among the three daughters. Cordelia is even given a central spot, positioned between Goneril (Linda Bisesti) and Regan (Kathleen S. Dunn), who of course can’t fail to notice that. As Lear speaks of Burgundy and France, the camera shows us Cordelia, and there is a sweet innocence about her. Lear applauds both Goneril and Regan after their speeches in which they profess their love for him. It is interesting, because of course these are performances worth applauding, performances insisted upon by Lear himself, and perhaps – at least for the moment – he is aware that these are simply performances. Cordelia’s asides during their speeches are cut.

Kent being female in this production gives a different feel to the line “Lov’d as my father,” since we’ve just heard from Lear’s actual daughters regarding their love for him. It puts Kent more in line with those daughters, which is a bit strange. Also, Cordelia is the woman who stands up to Lear in this moment, so Kent’s being female, in a way, makes it seem like she outdoes Cordelia. That being said, Samantha Kernaghan gives a strong performance, in this scene and throughout the production. When France (Brandon Sy) tells Cordelia, “Bid farewell to your sisters,” he kind of spits out the word “sisters” as if he has no respect for them. It is a somewhat odd choice, as he wasn’t present for their performances, their proclamations of love, and so his scorn seems to come from nowhere. Linda Bisesti and Kathleen S. Dunn deliver tremendous performances as Goneril and Regan respectively, and what’s more, they are completely believable as sisters, which is clear when they stand together as Cordelia addresses them. The moment with Goneril and Regan together after Cordelia has exited is excellent. The camera is close on them, almost like we in the audience are part of their small confederacy. What is particularly wonderful is that as the camera pulls back, we see that they’ve been holding hands. And as the scene ends, they let go of each other and take the arms of their husbands, showing that their allegiance to each other is something stronger, more natural, than that to their husbands. It is a brief moment that reveals a lot.

Edmund is rather creepy in his white gloves. He gives his “base” speech outward, but not directly to the camera. Gloucester’s lines regarding the letter are delivered in a rather jovial and playful mood, which is nice, giving him plenty of space to go once he reads it. At first he is incredulous. Oh, if only he remained so. On “brothers divide,” Gloucester gestures to Edmund. And on “the bond crack’d ‘twixt son and father,” he looks at Edmund as if perhaps deep down he knows the truth. Interestingly, after Gloucester exits, Edmund delivers his next speech directly to the camera, the “excellent foppery of the world” speech. At one moment, we see that his anger is about to get the best of him, and he has to work to control it, which is great. On “go arm’d,” Edmund hands Edgar (Richard H. Pluim) a knife. There are no swords in this production, and later Edmund uses a knife to wound his own arm.

When next we see Lear, he is dressed more casually, in a plaid shirt and a hat. Kent’s disguise is more extreme and believable than in many productions, for she disguises herself as a man. It works, though her answer to Lear, “A man, Sir,” has a different ring to it because of her gender. She carries a large walking stick, and uses it to trip Oswald (Cal Zwahlen). The Fool (Julian D. Carrasco) is in a suit, his coxcomb being a regular cap. There is nothing too outrageous about his appearance, except perhaps the polka dot tie he wears. But he gives a delightful performance, and the connection is strong between him and Lear. I love that in this scene Goneril seems to truly care about her father on the lines “and put away/These dispositions which of late transport you/From what you rightly are.” She seems disturbed by the man she sees in front of her, by his changes, as well as by the behavior of his men. After all, this is her father, the man she has likely looked up to all her life. Goneril is much more effective when not played as simply evil, as is sometimes done. It is when Lear curses her that she really begins to change, and we see that in her expression. After Lear sends Kent off with the letter, there is a great moment where Lear sits, looking weary and tired. The Fool sees this, and tries to cheer him. It is such a moving moment, especially coming after the previous scene in which Lear was losing his temper with Goneril. Matthew Reidy is fantastic here as Lear.

Rather than actual stocks, in this production a gunnysack is placed over Kent’s head, and her legs are tied. The sound of barking dogs is heard as Edgar is being pursued. While hiding, he delivers his “happy hollow” speech to the camera. Meanwhile, behind him the search continues, and it gets closer, until he is caught, something I don’t recall seeing in any other production. And it is in that moment that he calls out “Poor Tom!” And his captor moves on. It’s a fantastic and exciting moment. He then delivers his “Edgar I nothing am” line. Later, when Gloucester speaks with Edmund, the camera is placed behind various objects, enhancing the covert aspect of Gloucester’s speech.

As with Goneril, this production allows Regan moments where she truly seems to care for her father. Regan helps Lear up when she says “I am glad to see your Highness,” leading Lear to say “Regan, I think you are.” It’s heartbreaking, in part because we know what is to come, and in part because in that moment we see that what is to come is not necessary, that it could be avoided. The “take her by the hand” moment is even stronger because we saw Goneril and Regan take each other by the hand in the first scene. So this shows they are still of that mind. The scene where they discuss the numbers of Lear’s train is powerful and moving, with Lear, Goneril and Regan all giving excellent performances. Lear’s tirade leaves Regan in tears, a wonderful touch.

For the storm, a rain effect is employed. The trial of Goneril is cut. When Lear mentions dogs, Edgar barks, leading to Lear’s “they bark at me.” There is an ice pick on the floor, which Lear picks up, and, without knowing it, accidentally stabs the Fool, an interesting way to dispose of a character who disappears from the text after that scene. After “And I’ll go to bed at noon,” the Fool collapses on the ground and dies. The eye plucking scene manages to be shocking, in part because of the performances by Craig Damon as Cornwall and Kathleen S. Dunn as Regan, especially the twisted joy Regan takes in it. What is also wonderful here is that Regan and Cornwall are given a moment of intimacy before this scene, which almost feels like foreplay. There is something nearly sexual passing between those two in their moment of extreme violence, and with Regan, we get the sense that she is just now learning this about herself, and that from here on out, that will be a significant part of her character. It is riveting. She also takes such delight in revealing to Gloucester that Edmund is the one who betrayed him. She is wonderfully wicked here, and yet does care for her husband when she learns that he’s been wounded. Goneril flirts with Edmund in a fashion similar to how she earlier interacted with Oswald. And in fact her “wear this” refers to a ring she suddenly takes from Oswald and places on Edmund’s finger (over his white gloves), an excellent touch.

Richard H. Pluim shines as Edgar when he sees that his father is blind and lets go of his Poor Tom posture. It is incredibly touching when he takes Gloucester’s hand. Edgar leads him to a spot from which there is a drop of a few inches, so that when Gloucester tentatively reaches out with his foot, he finds only air and so believes he is at the cliff. How heartrending it is to pretend to lead one’s own father to his suicide. We feel for both Edgar and Gloucester here. But of course the most moving moments involve Lear’s reunion with Cordelia. Lear is dressed in a hospital gown, asleep in a wheel chair, when Cordelia sees him. His delivery of “You are a spirit, I know” is poignant. Because Kent is female in this production, Lear’s “and know this man” about Kent has a different sense than usual. For it shows that he doesn’t quite recognize her, at least not as Kent, though perhaps as the servant Kent has pretended to be. It feels like we lose something there, the possibility that he is coming back to his senses. However, Lear’s recognition of Cordelia is incredibly touching. Music is added to that moment, but it is not necessary; the performances do all the work here.

When Regan takes ill, Goneril says “If not, I ne’er trust the poison,” following the Quarto reading rather than the Folio’s “medicine,” which is usually used. Edgar wears a cap down to cover some of his face when he fights Edmund. Of course, having a portion of one’s face covered would make a duel all the more difficult. He then removes the cap before “My name is Edgar.” Albany’s “Great thing of us forgot!” is cut. Lear has Cordelia in a bed sheet, and pulls her in by the sheet rather than carrying her. On Lear’s “Do you see this,” a light shines on his face, and he looks up, nearly in ecstasy, seeing Cordelia before him. Perhaps she is an angel coming to lead him into an afterlife? Perhaps she is only in his mind, but the presence of the light seems to indicate that he really does see something. Kent and Edgar gently help him lie back as he continues to see Cordelia before him and passes in a state of joy. It is beautiful. Following the Folio, Edgar speaks the final words of the play rather than Albany, as in the Quarto. This is an absolutely captivating production of Shakespeare’s finest work.

This production of King Lear was directed by Baron Kelly, and is available to watch online through September 12th. It is free, but donations are encouraged. Visit The Southern California Shakespeare Festival website for more details, and to watch the production.

The Tempest (Independent Shakespeare Company’s 2021 Production) Theatre Review

The Independent Shakespeare Company is back in Griffith Park after a year without any performances, this time with a shortened season. While the company usually puts on two plays, this season they are performing just one, The Tempest, which is thought to be Shakespeare’s final play (or perhaps penultimate play, followed by Henry The Eighth). There is another difference this season, and that is the location, which is just a bit farther up the hill than usual, a more intimate space. This is because ground is being broken at the normal spot for a permanent theatre, which is excellent news for those of us who have been enjoying this company’s work. Also, because of the continuing pandemic, specific spots were mapped out for the audience this season, and reservations required, in order to ensure some distance between patrons. What has not changed is the high quality of this company’s work, nor that great sense of community that exists at their performances.

As the performance opens, there is the sound effect of a storm, and the entire stage becomes the boat. Prospero (David Melville) stands downstage center, and opens an umbrella, which signals the start of the storm, a wonderful touch. He then exits before the dialogue among the mariners. All the characters on stage shout “We split, we split,” and then it is if they have gone into the water, which we can see by their well-choreographed movements. By the way, this season the stage itself is split into three sections. There is a center section close to the audience, positioned over some rocks and a riverbed (though no water is running in it now), and behind it a section to the left and one to the right. Interestingly, those two sections give the feel of being backstage, as it seems the back of the flats are facing the audience. While the tempest has its way with those on the boat, Miranda (Carene Mekertichyan) watches through binoculars upstage right. This is a modern dress production. Prospero’s magic garment is nothing special to look at, and so when he first mentions his “magic garment,” the line gets a laugh. It also draws a greater distinction between him and the spirits of the island, showing that he is still an outsider to this place.

In the text, apart from the spirits in the pageant, Miranda is the only female character. In this production, Prospero’s brother Antonio becomes his sister Antonia (Carine Montbertrand), and the king’s brother Sebastian becomes his sister Sebastiane (also played by Carene Mekertichyan). It is interesting that the two murderous characters are women here. Also, a woman plays the character Adrian (that is Darian Ramirez). Having so many women of course gives Miranda fewer men to look upon before she delivers her famous “How many goodly creatures are there here” speech, which perhaps lessens the humor of it. We do have a male Ariel, however, which is a welcome change from most productions (the character is male in the text). Played by Paul Turbiak, Ariel has distinctive appearance, with a strip of blue across his eyes, and black feathers at his neck and shoulders. His voice, facial expressions and movements also set him apart from the other characters. The entire cast is excellent (which is the norm for this company), but Paul Turbiak gives a particularly remarkable performance. After Prospero tells him that his charge “exactly is perform’d,” Ariel starts to leave upstage. Then, as Prospero continues his speech, “but there’s more work,” Ariel’s expression and disposition change, as he is more concerned that Prospero will not free him as promised. Ariel makes us feel for him immediately, and he shows submission rather than anger in that early scene.

Also delivering a fantastic performance is Jose Acain as Caliban, who frightens Miranda upon his initial entrance (and might frighten some of the audience as well). There is a delightful wildness about him, and we see a constant inner struggle between what might be his natural inclinations and the deportment Prospero has taught him and expects of him. Like Ariel, Caliban has his own particular way of moving. He also has green makeup surrounding one eye, which helps to set him apart. Caliban gives a wicked and pleased laugh after Prospero mentions his attempted violation of Miranda. Before that moment, the audience can’t help but care for him. And even after that, it’s not long before we feel for him again.

Ariel, with the help of two other spirits, leads Ferdinand (Patrick Batiste) with a song. Ferdinand seems truly tormented by this song, particularly when it reminds him of his father, whom he presumes dead. It’s an excellent moment. Ferdinand is in modern clothes, but does have a sword. Xavi Moreno does a wonderful job as both Gonzalo and Trinculo, shining particularly as Trinculo, the performance having a delightful innocence. There is a lot of doubling of roles in this production, and Brent Charles plays both Alonso (the king) and Stephano. As with Moreno, Charles seems to have much more fun with the more comedic role, and the song he sings upon entering as Stephano received some applause from the crowd last night. It is not an easy thing to play drunk, and both Charles and Moreno do a good job of it. When Ariel helps Trinculo to stand, Trinculo of course shows some surprise, which is another nice moment. Ariel, by the way, does a great job of imitating Trinculo’s voice. Caliban uses his song about having a new master to engage Stephano and Trinculo, as well as the audience. And then later when the music frightens Trinculo and Stephano, Caliban smiles, taking great joy in the hearing of it. Regardless of how his attempted violation of Miranda may have made the audience feel, in this moment everyone has at least some fondness for the character.

The budding romance between Ferdinand and Miranda is absolutely adorable. When Miranda tells Ferdinand that her father is “hard at study,” we see Prospero standing in the near darkness off stage left. Miranda pouts a bit when Ferdinand mentions other women he has known, which is cute. When the others are searching for Ferdinand, Antonia and Sebastiane call out his name with an obvious lack of interest in finding him, which is funny. For the pageant scene, Prospero hits his stick against the floor, causing lights in the trees to illuminate. He also uses a soap bubble machine, which gets a laugh from the audience. David Melville always handles comedy well, but his greatest moments as Prospero are the more serious and even introspective moments. He does an excellent job with the famous speech after the pageant, in which he tells Miranda and Ferdinand “we are such stuff/As dreams are made on, and our little life/Is rounded with a sleep.” And the later interactions with Ariel are perhaps the best moments in the entire production. Particularly moving is when Ariel tells him, “Mine would, sir, were I human.” Ariel is completely honest here, without that sense of manipulation, and that honesty is what works on Prospero, and it is then we get the first real sense of forgiveness. After Ariel exits, Prospero remains quiet for a moment, gathering himself, which is excellent. There is some sorrow in his delivery of “I’ll drown my book.”

As always, this company makes great use of the space. And having a different space this year seems to have lent itself to fueling their creativity and inventiveness. The dry riverbed is used often, with Prospero first going to it to fill a kettle. And Caliban makes a fantastic and dramatic entrance from underground. What the actors don’t do as much as usual is make entrances and exits through the audience. In previous seasons, actors would even sit with audience members on their blankets, delivering some of their lines from there. But obviously because of the pandemic, that is something that wouldn’t be as welcome. In fact, I believe there is only one exit through the audience, which draws all the more attention to it. That is by Ariel after he is finally freed, making that moment even more powerful and moving.

This production of The Tempest was directed by Melissa Chalsma, and runs through September 5th (only four more performances). There is a twenty-minute intermission, coming at the end of Act II. (Be sure to have a flashlight with you if you plan on visiting the bathrooms during intermission.) Visit the Independent Shakespeare Company’s official website for more information.

Caliban makes his entrance from here

 

Julius Caesar (Will Geer’s Theatricum Botanicum 2021 Production) Theatre Review

Production photo by Ian Flanders

Shakespeare is always relevant. His work has something to say about whatever situation we are currently experiencing. In the aftermath of the Trump administration, and particularly the January 6th insurrection, what has been coming to mind is the way the fickle crowd is easily swayed in Julius Caesar. From the opening scene, in which Marullus and Flavius berate people for casually switching their allegiance from Pompey to Caesar, to the famous scene where Brutus foolishly lets Antony speak after him and the crowd quickly moves from supporting the conspirators to wanting their blood, we see the way a crowd can be easily led and misled. That latter scene in particular came to mind as the country watched the events unfold on January 6th, especially as Republicans in that violent mob erected a gallows and chanted “Hang Mike Pence,” a person to whom they had been loyal only days before. In addition, there is the ongoing question about what to do with Trump himself, a man who is clearly at odds with the whole concept of democracy and who has authoritarian desires, also related to the character of Julius Caesar. The new production of Julius Caesar at Will Geer’s Theatricum Botanicum clearly has an eye on the current state of the world. In fact, before last night’s performance, the production’s director, Ellen Geer, and the cast spoke about the connections between this play and current events, and Geer said the play was chosen this season because “it reflects what’s going on in our country.” For this production, the role of the Soothsayer (who has but a few lines in the text) is expanded, and takes on the function of narrator, drawing the connection between the events of the play and our current times. If any character is going to do that, it makes sense for it to be the Soothsayer, the person who seems able to look into the future. This production also features a couple of well-choreographed battles scenes.

As the performance begins, the Soothsayer (Gerald Rivers), in his role as narrator, speaks about Shakespeare and society, and about a country’s disintegration. “We know what happens when we don’t get involved,” he says in this newly written speech, then adding that we also know what happens when we do. And speaking of getting involved, this production asks the audience to be a part of the performance rather than silent spectators. As the audience files into the theatre, each person is given a small sheet of paper with lines to shout out at specific times, lines such as “Traitors!” and “Caesar’s tongue outvenomed all the worms of Nile.” And not everyone is given the same lines. Essentially the audience members are asked to take the part of the crowd, which then should cause them to take a look at their own involvement or lack thereof in current events. It is an interesting choice, and some of the audience really got into the spirit of the thing. (There was at least one audience member who was confused about the timing, and shouted out his lines at the wrong moments, leading one member of the cast to gently guide him back onto the same page, which was interesting in itself.) Also, the line “Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?” in the opening scene is directed out at the audience, and there is a pause before the word “men,” so it becomes something of an insult, as if to say that we in the audience are less than men in their eyes.

Julius Caesar (Mark Lewis) and his entourage enter through the audience, which adds to the sense that the audience is involved in the action. The Soothsayer actually speaks his first line from a seat in the front row, and then is brought onto the stage to repeat his famous warning, “Beware the ides of March.” This production makes great use of the space, not just the stage, but the aisles through the audience and the woods behind and next to the stage, and when Brutus (Christopher W. Jones) and Cassius (Melora Marshall) first speak together downstage left, much of the rest of the cast is up in the woods behind the stage, while Caesar is on the roof of the structure upstage left. Those people remain frozen for much of the dialogue between Brutus and Cassius, occasionally calling “Hail Caesar,” to which Brutus and Cassius react. Cassius seems somewhat devious from the start, though Caesar is more frightening when he says of Cassius, “He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.” Yet a moment later you can’t help but agree with Caesar when he rebukes Cassius for not attending plays or listening to music. So even before Antony’s big speech, we in the audience feel our allegiance pulled between the two factions. And regarding another of our current troubles, Cassius’ line “But if you would consider the true cause/Why all these fires” certainly stands out (I heard some others in the audience react to it).

When Brutus delivers his “He would be crown’d speech,” he is on the platform downstage right, above much of the audience. So we look up to him, giving him an elevated position physically as well as morally. And that is where the conspirators gather as well, so at this point we side with them. Once the conspirators exit, we are treated to that intimate scene between Brutus and Portia (Willow Geer), which ends up being one of the most powerful scenes in the production, in large part because of the two excellent performances. It is interesting because it is more by her words than his that we get a glimpse of Brutus’ troubled mind. He lays his head on her lap before “O ye gods,/Render me worthy of this noble wife,” a tender and touching moment. And then with Caesar and Calpurnia (Cindy Kania-Guastaferro), we see both the similarities and differences in the two relationships. Caesar pokes a bit of fun at Calpurnia when he recounts his wife’s dream, belittling it to Marcellus (Max Lawrence), not Decius, as in the text (that character being cut in this production). And again, because of that treatment of his wife in front of another man, we side with Brutus here. Portia is also excellent in her scene with Lucius (played by understudy Joseph Bricker last night), when she is apprehensive and jittery, her nerves getting the better of her.

Julius Caesar is certainly arrogant, something that Donald Trump has in common with him. And in the moments before his murder when Caesar speaks of himself in the third person, we are reminded again of Trump. The killing is done in slow motion. When Brutus approaches Caesar, Caesar is shocked and sad, and we hear that in his delivery of that famous line “Et tu, Brute?” There is no anger there, and because of that, in that moment we feel for him. It is after Caesar says “Then fall, Caesar” that Brutus actually stabs him. It is an incredible moment, almost like Caesar is willing to die since even Brutus has turned on him, or that he knows he has no chance because of that. Mark Lewis is absolutely excellent here. And there is a wonderfully long pause after the murder, as the conspirators catch their breath, and the severity of their action sinks in. We in the audience need that moment too, especially as we feel that we have taken part in the killing, that we are complicit. Antony’s reaction to seeing Caesar’s body is poignant. Michael McFall gives one of the production’s best performances, showing both great strength and intelligence, while also in that moment when he first sees the body, allowing us to witness his despair. His delivery to Brutus of the line “That’s all I seek” is excellent, and when Antony is alone with the body of Julius Caesar, his demeanor and tone change completely, and we sense the explosion that is to come from within him. This production boasts a talented cast, without a single weak player, and even among such a strong company, Michael McFall stands out, especially during that well-known speech. I love his delivery of “You will compel me then to read the will?” He knows in that moment that he has the crowd (which is us), and he knows precisely what he can expect from them. And as he reads the will, he faces the audience, and we feel our allegiance shifting to him, just as the crowd’s loyalty becomes his. It is an excellent moment, and even those who have chosen not to shout out the lines they were given must feel they are taking an active part in the proceedings. The narrator steps in after that moment to describe how Rome is in chaos, with citizens choosing sides, something that, even with Trump out of office, is still true of our nation now.

One of the other really intriguing performances is that of Melora Marshall as Cassius. Her performance is multi-layered, showing us both the character’s intellect and his selfishness, his strengths and weaknesses. There are moments when we wonder if Cassius is being straightforward with Brutus or cunning, and if Cassius even recognizes the difference anymore. I particularly love the scene toward the end when Cassius feels he has lost Brutus’ respect and love. Melora Marshall’s delivery of “You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus;/I said an elder soldier, not a better/Did I say, ‘better’?” is particularly good, packed with passion and even humor. When the ghost of Julius Caesar enters, it is to the right of the audience, with his face covered. Brutus is downstage right, so the audience is between Brutus and the ghost, which is interesting. For isn’t that where we’ve been placed from the beginning, as Roman citizens? When Cassius bids Pindarus (Nicolas Jordan) to kill him, Pindarus does not hesitate. That is in great contrast to the moment when Brutus similarly looks for help in committing suicide, and the first person he asks declines. In this production, it is Lucius, not Strato, who agrees to hold the sword for Brutus. As he holds it, he turns his head away from Brutus, looking out to the audience, again making us part of the action. The Soothsayer as narrator is given a final speech, once again connecting the play with the present. Though Gerald Rivers does a fine job here, as throughout the performance, this speech feels unnecessary, and it seems that it should be Shakespeare who has the last word.

This production of Julius Caesar is directed by Ellen Geer, and runs through October 30^th, in repertory with A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Visit the Will Geer’s Theatricum Botanicum website for the complete schedule. Because of the ongoing pandemic, the performance runs without an intermission, and is just under an hour and a half. Also, masks are required for all those in attendance, regardless of vaccination status.