Throughout the course of history, people have been fascinated by stories that take place throughout the course of history. In other words, history repeats itself on the page, stage, and screen almost as often as it does in real life.
Particularly in the theatre, period pieces never go out of style, never wear out their welcome, and never grow old. Whereas some feature films and television programs seem dated and behind the times after their initial release, plays and musicals are a much more adaptable and enduring art form. Look around at today's theatre marquees and you will see countless projects set in the past: "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof," "Anna in the Tropics," the upcoming "Fiddler on the Roof." With each new stage revival, modern sensibilities can be instilled into the original text, allowing new generations of audiences the chance to relive a bygone era and still relate to the show's themes and lessons.
But beyond the daunting task of making an old-fashioned script appear fresh and relevant to today's playgoers, there lie other challenges in mounting ancient tragedies, classical comedies, and historical epics. These vehicles require actors, directors, and designers who can tap into the past while maintaining a contemporary significance—not an easy task. Costume dramas can provide costume trauma for production companies on limited budgets, and theatrical works requiring authentic sets and furnishings may send designers scrambling to antique shops, prop houses, and thrift stores.
So, with all the creative and financial obstacles inherent in mounting a period play, why do producers still choose to produce them? What possesses a performer to tackle the role of a Greek god or a Victorian empress, a World War I hero or a medieval lady-in-waiting? And what do today's viewers get out of seeing these "old" shows, anyway?
Respect Your Elders
Cavemen, biblical figures, Incans, Aztecs—it is widely acknowledged that most early civilizations had some form of group storytelling rituals akin to today's theatre offerings. It was only a matter of time before the tales were written down, distributed, memorized, and performed. When the public first heard the words of playwrights such as Aeschylus ("Prometheus Bound"), Sophocles ("Oedipus Rex"), and Euripides ("The Trojan Women"), it was Greek to them. When in Rome, fanciers of flights of fancy could attend public showings of Plautus' "The Menaechmi" or Seneca's version of "Oedipus."
Among the Greeks who've earned their reputations as stage scribes, Aristophanes still carries a lot of weight. His comic creation "Lysistrata" continues to reverberate with modern viewers, with its uncanny observations on war and peace still as pertinent today as they were centuries ago.
Edward Einhorn, artistic director of Untitled Theater Company #61, is getting ready to revive the classic with a cast of 100 actors at 66 Water St. across the East River in DUMBO. He's also been involved in two other period productions—writing and co-producing "Golem Stories," set in 16th-century Prague, and directing "Tales for Children," part of "Fairy Tales of the Absurd," which takes place in 1950s Paris.
"Lysistrata" will take audience members back even further—to 410 B.C. Athens, to be precise. Ambitious Einhorn states that nowadays it's always difficult to stage period pieces, but never impossible. "Making this show 'period' adds some expense, but not, in my experience, an insurmountable amount."
Initially, trying to get accurate fashion cues from the era wasn't so simple. "No one knows exactly what people in ancient Greece wore. There are clues—pictures on jugs, clues from the text of the play itself, and of course other writing—but sometimes it's just hard to tell. For Athenians it's easier, but for Spartans there's less evidence. Plus, when clothing 100 people, you have to cut corners, so sometimes getting something that looks kind of right has to be enough." Architectural demands have been easier on Einhorn and company. "As for the set design, we are using the building environmentally—it's full of Doric columns, and looks a little like a Greek ruin on its own."
The play connects with modern viewers on two key levels, the producer-director adds. " 'Lysistrata' is about war and sex, two basic human elements that haven't gone away. There are some pieces of Aristophanes that I find totally uninteresting because they relate almost completely to aspects of Athenian society that are no longer relevant. But the best plays are universal. Human beings, for better or for worse, have the same basic drives and emotions. This play definitely is relevant in today's world. In fact, there were simultaneous readings of it conducted all over the world recently, in response to the war. Sadly, an antiwar play continues to be just as relevant 2,400 years later."
From a marketing standpoint, Einhorn points out that some plays come with their own built-in audience from people having read them in school or grown up with them. "The more exposure a play gets, the more people discover that they love it. The thing that's difficult is showing why your production is different or more interesting than all the others. I have made my show into an event, with so many actors, partly for pure reasons of conveying the text, and partly so people can look at this play in a whole new way. I want to convey the sense of an event such as they had when they originally produced these plays. They were originally all part of a festival to Dionysus, and it was no small event to have plays there. I think New York, much like Athens, responds to such events."
He suggests the following advice to other groups who are looking to mount a period play. "The thing I find most difficult is when people take a classic text and then try to use it to say something that it isn't saying. I feel that you can do almost anything with a script as long as you start from the script and focus on what it's saying. Reinventing a classic doesn't mean changing it; to me, it means finding a new way for people to hear what was already there."
Channeling Shakespeare
More than any other playwright from the past, Shakespeare keeps bringing them back to the boards, seducing playmakers and patrons alike with his late-16th- to early-17th-century comedies, dramas, and historical plays.
Dakin Matthews is currently playing Warwick and Owen Glendower in the Lincoln Center Theater production of Shakespeare's "Henry IV," and he also adapted the script, combining "Henry IV Part 1" and "Henry IV Part 2" into one evening. The theatre veteran has done his share of period pieces on both coasts, and is a firm believer that new productions of classics are artistically essential and financially viable.
"The fact is, Shakespeare plays are produced all over the country on resident and festival stages, first of all because they're great and theatres have a duty to do them, but also because they can be done—if one chooses to—with a minimum of technical resources (a unit set, for example) and without paying any royalties. And they can mostly be done, and are at times well and interestingly done, in modern dress, which helps with the costume budget; and, with a little creative doubling and adaptation, might be done with far fewer actors than you might think. Shakespeare's own company did them with as few as 14-16 players, even fewer on tour. Now, if you're going to do a big production, like our current version of 'Henry IV,' in a major theatre city, then admittedly you're going to need a pretty good budget. But the good news is that Shakespeare sells, and traditionally sells well."
That's not to say that the shows themselves don't present challenges. "Shakespeare's text itself was neither accurate nor authentic in strictly historical terms. Shakespeare reshaped the facts to fit his dramaturgical intentions. On top of that, in Shakespeare's own time, and for two and a half centuries thereafter, historical accuracy in sets and costumes was never a factor; characters were generally dressed in the same clothes as the audience. It was only in mid-19th century that the 'archeological' movement in theatre crept in, and visual and historical authenticity became common—often at the expense of huge chunks of text, which had to be removed to make time for massive scene and costume changes. Nowadays, since William Poel's revolution in staging Shakespeare, we are inheritors of two separate and equally strong strains—one favoring a simplified one-set staging, and the other still preferring period sets and costumes in history plays."
Matthews' "homework" for "Henry IV" included reading history tomes, particularly other Shakespearean historical plays. "I also read widely in the entire Shakespearean canon and in Renaissance texts until the specific language of that period becomes something like second nature for me. I want Shakespeare to be my native tongue and, ultimately, that's what all Shakespearean actors have to accomplish. Some of the best, I know, do it on pure instinct; I, alas, have the heart of a scholar, so I tend to do it by immersion and study—but our goals are the same, to speak Shakespeare naturally."
When asked why Shakespeare's plays continue to have relevance, Matthews responds, "I know many will say the language, the poetry, the spectacle, the stories, the high culture. I say it's because nobody ever knew and recreated, as well as he did and still does, what it means to be a human being—body, heart, and soul. If you really hear and see what these plays are finally showing us—from the mouths of good actors and the brains of good directors and the hands of good designers—the centuries, the odd theatrical conventions, and the occasionally obscure verbiage all melt away, leaving you face to face, as in a highly polished mirror, with your own humanity."
He is open to the idea of transporting period pieces into different eras or locales. "Absolutely, as long as they illuminate rather than obscure the play. I don't do it because I like the cut of the clothes, but I would do it if I thought the cut of the clothes clarified the characters. I'm particularly fond of staging political plays in modern dress, for somewhat obvious reasons. I've staged this play that way, as a matter of fact, and learned a lot from it. Remember, Shakespeare himself saw his own plays staged in 'modern dress'; even his ancient Romans wore Elizabethan doublets and hose."
Offering a few final words of wisdom, Matthews warns, "Don't fall in love with the period to the point where recreating it is more important than recreating the play. Don't put the actors on the bottom of the budget; they're your most valuable resource—put them first. The costumes don't move without actors inside them; the sets don't talk, the lights don't suffer, and the props won't break your heart. And don't get the actors on their feet making pretty pictures until they know exactly what they're saying."
Acting Through the Ages
Today's performers may find taking on period roles to be overwhelming and intimidating. Not these two young actresses, however, who between them have covered several eras in a short amount of time.
Kate McGrath is a veteran of three period plays, having performed in "Motherlove" by Strindberg, and Chekhov's "The Cherry Orchard" and "The Bear." She dove into the classical waters after being accepted into a small New York-based company that specializes in doing such pieces. "I fell in love with Helena in 'Motherlove' because she was so passionate about getting out and really living and rebelling against the abuse she endured at home, yet could not leave what she knew all her life."
The actress pinpoints certain universal challenges facing smaller venues when producing plays from other eras. "Obviously, what always affects small companies is money. But on our show, with all the thrift stores in New York City, plus what other actors were able to provide, it really was just a small conflict. As far as the set, there was not much of one. We worked in a black-box theatre, so it was very grassroots. That was a hindrance, but eventually, as an actor, you have to create the reality. When you rehearse so much with others and with costumes, it becomes part of you."
Her approach to other period roles has included a personal rule she follows. "I think that I have learned through my work here in New York, with the actors that I have met who are also just trying to get work, that you have to open your mind and be vulnerable on stage no matter what. In period pieces, that can be difficult, because you've seen so many productions of them, and you feel a dedication to the writer. I think that I have often in the past gotten very comfortable with how this or that scene should go because it is written that way and that's how it 'should' be done. However, I have learned that you should never be afraid to do something different, or to allow things to happen on stage. No play should ever be 'same-old same-old' to the audience."
McGrath has noticed that "Chekhov works sell very well to young crowds: students or recent graduates. Strindberg one-acts do not sell as well, but when they do, the crowd is a little older. It is really more a question of demographic, of generation, of who was studying what. My advice is to always transform. Never do the same thing twice. There are always new concepts to explore and only good can come of them. That is a sure-fire way to challenge past artistic ventures, and beat the current economic challenges that come with doing a period piece."
Actress Tammy Tunyavongs is currently gearing up for her next historical role—she will be performing in "Rashomon" in January 2004 at the Baird's Jewel Theatre in New Jersey. She has also performed in the historical horror story "Avenge!" and the 1930s drama "The Women."
"In 'The Women,' I played Crystal Allen, described as a beautiful gold-digging vixen. Yes, she was a gold digger, but I also saw her as a fighter, someone who will do whatever she has to do to survive. To me, Crystal is a combination of Iago in 'Othello' and a petulant child—scheming, manipulative, wants what she wants when she wants it, but yet still charming and somewhat naive. The one thing I didn't do was watch the entire movie. I watched a little bit because I was curious about the other characters, but I didn't want to be influenced by Joan Crawford's performance, so I skipped all the Crystal scenes!"
In the actress's eyes, one aspect that was especially perplexing was copying the hairstyles of the period. "It was particularly difficult to emulate that style, but we all did the best we could without wigs or professional assistance."
Tunyavongs relates that plays like "The Women" endure well past their time period because "they deal with the timeless and fundamental concepts that affect us all, irrespective of age, race, or religion. 'The Women' can speak to everyone because it deals with issues such as trust, family, friendship, love, betrayal, personal growth—these are all matters that people can relate to and truly internalize. They can actually put themselves in the characters' shoes."
She had an equally rewarding time during a production she was in at the recent Spotlight On Halloween Festival. "Period pieces such as 'Avenge!,' which is an adaptation of Thomas Kyd's 'The Spanish Tragedy,' continue to be performed in some fashion because pieces such as that set the foundation from which modern ideas are born, no matter the genre. 'The Spanish Tragedy' is considered to be a primary influence for William Shakespeare's 'Hamlet.' 'Avenge!' was performed in the style of Grand Guignol, a style which gave rise to the gothic horror movies, and eventually evolved into our modern-day Freddy Krueger, Michael Myers, and Jason Voorhees."
The actress gives some straightforward advice to others portraying a long-ago character. "I would say study whatever elements you can find to help you create a character who could have realistically lived in that time period. Figure out what would motivate that character, what pushes his buttons, what would affect him, and just be true to the character. And talk to people! People are fountains of information and experience!"
Pulp Fact and Fiction
Frank Cwiklik is quickly making a name for himself as a purveyor of impressively intricate black-box period pieces. Having tackled everything from Shakespeare ("Bitch Macbeth") to women-in-prison serials ("The Fugitive Girls"), his latest trip back in time was between the years 1939 and 2003 for his most recent extravaganza, "Who in the Hell Is the Real, Live Lorelei Lee?," a Danse Macabre Theatrics production at the Red Room.
He relates that the current economic conditions haven't had as much of an impact on his productions as one would imagine. "We're scrambling for materials and money the same as we ever were. In a way, it's actually helped a bit, as there are more people giving up old clothing, props, and furniture in estate sales, now that so many people are fleeing New York for greener pastures."
The specific challenges of recreating the world of "Lorelei Lee" were also handled in stride by Cwiklik and his troupe. "We were dealing with an extremely specific milieu and style—mid-20th-century pinup and burlesque culture—of which there are many rabid devotees. We were lucky to cast a number of actresses who were not only believable as sex sirens, but, in different ways, had the facial and body types of that period, when the desirable woman was more curvy and less boyish than is currently the vogue. The dialogue was also important, as we wanted to match the rat-a-tat-tat, clever style of so much of 1950s comedy and noir, which is the verbal style most people hear in their heads when they think of that era."
The creative staff was lucky to have the help of a vintage clothing store that was willing to provide some stunning and quite rare costumes and gowns from the period. In addition, Cwiklik and his wife have long been collectors of 20th-century ephemera, so they had all the realistic hand props they needed. "For other shows we've done, New York has been a treasure chest of research materials—one of the advantages of being an artist in this city is that nearly every period of history over the past 200-300 years is somehow documented, preserved, or maintained somewhere in this city, either in museums, or in collectors' resources (shops, private collections, galleries). One would have to be blind not to find the stuff."
The multi-hyphenate suggests that period plays "help to remind audiences, especially in today's international insane asylum, that people have always had the same basic drives and obsessions, large and small. In an odd way, audiences are more likely to respond to emotional scenes and moments in a personal way through that filter of time—we tend to judge modern characters too harshly and personally, and tend to sympathize with characters 'caught up in history,' so to speak. There are exceptions, of course. It's also easier for a director to comment on modern issues and ideas with period pieces, as an audience will be more likely to have a preconception about issues addressed in a modern play, which runs counter to the entire point of telling a story."
As a director, he has an unorthodox rule of thumb about period plays. "It'll make most directing teachers cringe to hear this, but once we begin working on the show itself—blocking, teching, performance—I tend to throw out all the research I've done, and rely on instinct. It is vital to me that I capture the feel of the era, more than the historical facts, in order to give the audience a sense of what it must have been like to be there at that time. I think of 'Amadeus' as the perfect model for period work. The author, Peter Shaffer, is an undisputed expert on Mozart. He did his homework in spades, then when the time came to tell an intriguing story about the people of the time, all caution was thrown to the winds, all facts became secondary to telling a story and giving audiences a sense of the people, time, and place. Facts and figures are for history books, and emotion and sense are for storytelling."
The great thing about theatre, concludes Cwiklik, is that "you can, if you do it right, convince the audience that two actors in an undecorated black box in threadbare costumes are actually, say, two soldiers returning home from the Battle of Gettysburg. It's all about the style and feel of the piece. If you get the emotional milieu right, theatre audiences, who are almost always willing to play along, will gladly forgive anything. You can be transported into another world with almost nothing at hand but force of will and imagination. You just have to be true to the time, emotionally and mentally. Props and costumes are, frankly, just gravy."
Not-So-Modern Times
A trio of artistic talents—solo performers Amir Darvish and Andrea Reese, and writer-director Charles Messina—recently joined forces to recreate two dynamic personalities bridging the generational gap.
Amir Darvish recently revived the image, voice, and singular spirit of music legend Freddie Mercury in "Mercury: The Afterlife and Times of a Rock God" at the Phil Bosakowski Theatre. Darvish's resume also includes other period pieces such as "Aida," "La Bohème," Chekhov's "The Cherry Orchard," and Neil Simon's "Barefoot in the Park."
Ironically, Darvish wasn't planning on playing Mercury, or any singer for that matter. But after auditioning on a dare and winning the role, Darvish read biographies from different perspectives; watched all of Queen's music videos, documentaries, and concert footage; listened to all their songs; and dug up rare interviews on the Internet. "I talked to many fans and heard their stories as well. But the incredible thing is that everyone can relate to the play. You need not know Freddie—if you do, it's just a bonus. His story is universal in dealing with issues of fear, rejection, acceptance, and love."
Some of the actor's approach to the character involved vintage costumes and physical characteristics. "I had to grow Freddie's ever-popular mustache. I couldn't grow his trademark teeth, however." Other specific challenges were accents, physical appearance, and mimicking his demeanor. "I do a lot of research and immersion. It's the only way. You have to live in the time and the moment."
Darvish feels there are audiences for all types of historical plays. "History repeats itself; it's an unfortunate human trait—wars, bigotry, hate. A period play transports us to the past, showing the mistakes we made and perhaps giving us a second chance to break the cycle. The fact that it happened 10 years ago or 100 years ago is not really the point. It's the story, the characters, and the journey—that is what people respond and relate to."
While Darvish never dreamed of his present role, Andrea Reese seems born to play Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis. As both playwright and performer of "Cirque Jacqueline—Behind the Facade of Jackie O.," she has performed at the Phil Bosakowski Theatre and the Corcoran Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C. Future shows will be held at Queens Theatre in the Park, April 24-25, and possibly in Chicago next summer. In addition to "Hamlet" and "Macbeth," she has a background as a classical singer and counts the period operas "Dido and Aeneas," "Carmen," and "The Barber of Seville" among her credits.
The actress read "zillions" of books and magazine articles about Jackie while researching the popular public figure. "I also accumulated video footage, which I watched constantly and continue to watch before every performance. Both my director, Charles Messina, and my acting coach, Jim Bonney, helped me hugely with learning to duplicate Jackie's body language and voice, and getting beneath the facade and into the human being."
Costumes and sets were another important step in the show's progress from page to stage. "I found all of the costumes and set pieces myself, and it took a lot of time and effort. Not only did every item have to be appropriate historically, but everything had to look right together on stage. Also, since the play covers 54 years of Jackie's life, the set pieces had to reflect her taste during many different periods. I was on a tight budget, so I chose simple, elegant furniture pieces and props. The costumes were a huge challenge, particularly the main dress I wear for most of the play, which had to look like something Jackie would wear at ages 10 to 64!"
Her perspective on why modern audiences still connect with period pieces is insightful. "When period pieces are directed in such a way that they delve into the true, deep humanity of historical figures, they transcend the particular period they take place in and become about humanity in general. This is so powerful because it connects the past and the present. When done well, period pieces remind audiences that human beings have always been basically the same underneath, and this is powerful knowledge that connects generations."
Reese's advice to other artists trying to capture the essence of an earlier era? "Period pieces are so often done in a stilted way, and I think this is partly because actors get intimidated by the sometimes unfamiliar language and end up focusing entirely on that and neglecting their deeper preparation as actors. It can be so helpful to say the lines in contemporary language for a while, and later, once the character is deeply rooted, use the actual original language. Economically, I advise people to keep the sets and props accurate but simple, and visit eBay and the Salvation Army, where you can find extraordinary items at amazingly low prices!"
Charles Messina of NahNotOutsideMyHouse! Productions directed "Jackie O." and wrote and co-directed (with Jim Bonney) "Mercury." He feels that the degree of difficulty in pulling off a period work depends on how you choose to bring it to the stage. "If you're doing it as part of a festival, as we did recently at the One Festival, then it is extremely cost-efficient because they are footing the bill for the theatre and the PR. Props and set pieces, while sometimes challenging to locate for period pieces, are not a huge expense. If you're doing it as an independent production, without a major producer or festival, then you're talking about a sizeable investment. Of course, it's all relative. Right now, we have a number of Hollywood producers interested in 'Mercury' as a film. Now that is a sizeable investment."
Messina feels Mercury's life story has enormous relevance, with or without the music. "His life was about a man who hid his true self from the world—his sexuality, his nationality, his overbite. No kidding. Freddie led a clandestine existence, fiercely guarding his personal life from the public right up until the day before he died of AIDS. His statement was released on Nov. 23, 1991, and he died the very next day. So sad. I mean, I enjoy 'We Will Rock You' as much as the next sports fan does, but there was so much more to Freddie's life than stadium anthems, and that's what we capture in the show, I hope."
Nostalgia is a big part of why modern audiences respond to period pieces, from Messina's point of view. "If people have lived through a period, they have a natural curiosity about that time and place and the people who made that period special. And if you're uncovering or deconstructing an icon from that period, I think people's interest is even greater because they have a hunger for the truth, which is so rarely presented to them the first time around. I approached this project as I would any story or character, real or fictitious. With a sensitivity, a belief that any good story has universal themes, and with the desire to both entertain and enlighten the audience."
In the end, Messina reminds those doing period pieces to "tell the story. Truthfully. Do your research. Write the best play you can. Get the best actors available. Be dedicated to the material. Be patient. We started working on 'Mercury' in 1997. These things take time. Getting it right always takes time. And money. But don't let the money alone stop you. I once asked David Mamet if he had any advice for a young playwright-director. He said, 'Get some actors together and do your show.' Can't argue with that."