“’Spirits from the Vasty Deep’ and Beyond: Shakespeare in the Age of Zoom

Since Covid-19 put its “girdle round the earth” (Midsummer Night’s Dream, 2.1), Shakespearean theatrical companies and practitioners have struggled to remain active, financially viable, and engaged in the creative pursuits that form the heart of their practices and missions. Starting soon after lockdown, there have been innumerable Zoom readings of Shakespearean drama organized by groups as disparate as the Shakespeare in Prison Network (https://www.facebook.com/groups/609718715846164/), Play On Shakespeare (https://playonfestival.org), Bedlam Theater (https://bedlam.org) and other ensembles in numerous locations. Some professional companies, such as Canada’s Stratford Festival, Oregon Shakespeare Festival, and London’s National Theatre, have released recordings of live performances, either from their archives or from recent productions shuttered by the pandemic. These endeavors have generally been welcomed with gratitude (albeit engendering some suspicion) by fellow practitioners and audience members who worry about the fate of live theatre during these tumultuous times.

As the pandemic has continued, other theatre companies are experimenting with ways to create and distribute “live” theatre through the Internet. London’s Old Vic, for instance, offers streamed performances of live, socially distanced productions. In addition, some groups are investigating the capacity of the now ubiquitous Zoom platform to fashion new forms of robust theatre. The two virtual performances considered here were coincidentally both streamed on the same day and were each created as fundraising opportunities. The first, Globetrotting Shakespeare’s The Tempest for Our Times (https://globetrottingshakespeare.com) intended to raise funds to offset Prague Shakespeare’s Covid-19 financial losses, was postponed from its originally scheduled date due to international racial unrest. The second, Southwest Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream requested donations and drew attention to the substantial need for PPE for first responders in the American Indian Navaho nation. Both productions include a wide range of actors who participate from diverse locations. Globetrotting Shakespeare gathered actors, directors and designers who worked together previously during Prague Shakespeare’s in- person summer intensives. Southwest Shakespeare predominantly cast BIPOC and/or non-binary actors and included some indigenous speech in their presentation. Although many of us are overwhelmed by the now notorious “Zoom fatigue,” these performances demonstrate that productions offered through the Internet can be lively, thought-provoking, and entertaining. I, for one, initially clicked on these plays because I wanted to support the sponsors and production teams.  I was not expecting the performances to be as skilled and engaging as they immediately became.  While these experiences differ significantly from in-person, live theatre, the quality of the acting, direction, music, and design of these productions suggest that electronic models of disseminating theatrical content may be more promising than audiences and practitioners have feared.

Globetrotting Shakespeare’s Tempest for Our Times benefits greatly from a collaboration with Kevin Kemp and The Streaming Theatre (https://thestreamingtheatre.wixsite.com/home), as well as from a talented ensemble. Kemp has the expertise needed in order to organize and choreograph the performance effectively on Zoom. Actors need to enter the Zoom platform in a particular order, for example, in order to be in the correct positions when they need to look at a specific person or share props (in The Tempest, many bottles of alcohol are transferred from one character to another). They also have to learn how best to look at the camera from the perfect distance, while remaining alert to their cues (transmitted through Zoom’s chat function) and keeping an eye on their cell phones for messages about anything requiring attention or going awry. While most of those involved are seasoned theatrical professionals, few had prior experience with the specific skills needed for this mode of presentation. As Laura Cole, one of the four directors involved in the process reports, “there was lots of try and fail” (interview, 14 July, 2020).

Dividing directorial duties contributed to the strength of this production, since each director (Jennifer King, Suzanne Dean, Carolyn Johnson, Laura Cole) oversaw different cohorts of actors, coordinating rehearsals from widely dispersed locations. Cole, for instance, directed a group of five Ariels, who represent air, wind, fire, earth, and ether-based personifications of that spirit. This ensemble of Ariels (all Prague Shakespeare Summer Intensive alumni) successfully experiment with snap camera techniques on Zoom that facilitate an overt presentation of these spirits’ magical abilities and help differentiate each aspect of the spirit. Diverse in appearance, this quintet expands Ariel’s role in the drama by encouraging the audience to consider how each individual element might participate in these island events. They offer distinctive personae. Bailey Smith, for example, regularly plays a set of wind chimes in her role as Ariel/Wind. The ensemble’s gender diversity also draws attention to the gender fluidity often associated with this character, particularly in our Disney-influenced world, where “Ariel” is frequently considered a female name. Likewise, creative camera techniques contribute to Benjamin Stowe’s effective presentation of Caliban, whose physical appearance in the play raises questions about his native species. This Caliban offers features that make sense of comments made about his fish-like qualities when Trinculo deems him “a strange fish” (Tempest, Act 2, Scene 2). In keeping with the premise that this Tempest is “for our times,” this Caliban is electronically red-hued, rather than dark-skinned. In addition, Prospero’s claim that “this thing of darkness I acknowledge mine” (Tempest,5.1) is transformed into “this thing of nightmares I acknowledge mine.” Given that many post-colonial and more “traditional” versions of the Tempest offered in recent years present a dark-skinned Caliban, this slight, yet monumental, alteration to the text resonates profoundly.

This production, which Scott Jackson (King Alonzo) terms “a special kind of theatre” (interview, 14 July, 2020), benefitted greatly from being able to use stunning backdrops created for a Prague Shakespeare production offered in front of a live audience last year. It also astutely incorporates matching costume elements (characters typically wear something striking in red), and artfully designed Zoom embellishments. Prague Shakespeare also presented an electronic A Midsummer Night’s Dream during Covid-19, that similarly draws from the theatrical and technical skills of its participants. These mutually supportive groups are clearly crafting a successful art form for our times, thanks to the combined efforts of a multi-talented ensemble. There are, inevitably, some technical snafus, but none that significantly draw attention away from the engaging performances at hand.

Southwest Shakespeare also encounters some technical glitches during their A Midsummer Night’s Dream, but these are to be expected in this evolving medium. They are fortunate, however, because some of the most glaring instances occur when Puck (the talented Madeline Sayet) is lip-syncing the voices of other actors while trying to rile up the young lovers in the forest. Sayet’s Puck is so energetic and appealing, however, that audience members are likely to give the production enormous latitude so long as she is in the Zoom frame. Sayet, an accomplished actor and director, who is currently Executive Director of the Yale Indigenous Performing Arts Program, also effectively introduces native dialogue into the performance. Combined with thematically-related commissioned music and beautiful artwork, these reminders of the indigenous roots of this streamed fundraiser help make this production memorable.

The production also makes some striking casting decisions. Neither Theseus and Oberon nor Titania and Hippolyta are played by the same actors, for instance, even though such doubling is common. Hippolyta, in fact, is played by a bearded performer (Felix Cruz-Ortiz). Kimberly Chatterjee plays both Theseus and Starveling/Moonshine, so there are some amusing scenes when both characters are vocal during the Rude Mechanicals’ performance and hats need to be acquired or ditched rapidly so that audience members can keep track of who is speaking. Southwest Shakespeare does not include consistent backdrops in this production, so the performance plays out in front of the familiar Zoom assortment of private dwellings, rather than distinctive settings for Athens and the forest. Like Globetrotting Shakespeare, this company does not worry about the anachronisms introduced by wrist watches and other modern accoutrements. Costuming is limited, but the few pieces introduced effectively create individualized characters.

Both productions are offered as fundraisers, but this aspect of the Southwest Shakespeare performance is particularly informative. In comments made during the broadcast, director Ty Defoe indicates that involvement with a “standard” Shakespeare performance was not appealing, but that a production drawing from native traditions, native performers, and non-binary casting made A Midsummer Night’s Dream a much more compelling venture. The screening opens with detailed descriptions of the artists’ backgrounds accompanied by masterful graphics and Dawn Avery’s haunting music. Furthermore, before the production, during intermission, and after the show, a range of speakers described the serious need for PPE for Navaho first responders, who work in an area that has been seriously affected by Covid-19. The design and casting of the play emphasize the importance for audiences to recognize and respond to the pressing issues currently facing native populations in the United States.

As noted, sound issues occasionally thwart these productions’ efforts to provide seamless, virtual theatrical experiences, but these obstacles prove comparatively insignificant. While audiences and performers undoubtedly wait anxiously for the return of live theatre, it is clearly time to experiment with such new forms of theatrical transmission. Whenever and however theatre returns to physical stages, developing new forms seems timely. Globetrotting Shakespeare and Southwest Shakespeare offer “proof of concept” productions that demonstrate the dynamic ways such emerging endeavors can succeed. Talented performers, directors, musicians, designers, and technological experts have not disappeared. The ways they are choosing to redirect their efforts within this “brave new world” (The Tempest, 5.1) bodes well for us all who are invested in these arts.