Twelfth Night − Cleveland Shakespeare Festival
by Kelly Ferjutz
ArtsCleveland.com
August 9, 2003
Theatre requires the suspension of your disbelief. If it doesn't or won't suspend, you might as well be watching TV or a movie. Never is this suspension more necessary than in the works of Shakespeare, the most revered playwright in the English language. The words alone can cause shivers up and down your spine, but sometimes the characters and/or the settings are so anachronistic that the play is difficult for modern audiences. A good production with actors who really believe in what they're doing, however, dispels those difficulties and makes it all come vibrantly alive. When it works the way its supposed to, when it breathes and sparkles, theatre is truly magic.
Twelfth Night takes all that one step farther than most of the other plays: it requires a set of identical boy/girl twins, or, barring that sort of serendipity, two actors (one of each sex) who look at least somewhat alike and are of roughly the same size, so they can easily be mistaken for each other throughout the action of this play. Without this benefit, Twelfth Night loses much of its sense--and strength--as it deals with mistaken identity on several levels.
There were gasps of shock and delight when Scott Esposito as Sebastian made his entrance Friday night, about midway through the condensed, two-hour long presentation. He was very nearly identical to Kat McIntosh as his sister, Viola, although she had been masquerading as the young man, Cesario. Of the same general build, with shortish red/blonde hair, and dressed alike, it was indeed possible to believe that Olivia and several others could barely tell them apart.
Director Seth Gordon set a brisk pace to keep all the actors (some twenty or so) moving about the space that served as a stage in an outdoor courtyard at Tri-C Metro Campus. It was a multi-faceted utilitarian space, all of it being incorporated into the stage by one of the best of Shakespeare's clowns that I've seen—Allen Branstein as Toby Belch—who, when making one of his drunken exits, blithely walked through the fountain to get where he was going. Fortunately, no one was sitting close enough to get splashed!
The staging was excellent throughout, entirely innovative in the use of garden hose and sprinklers plus other very minimal props, set pieces, or lighting. Sound was excellent in this outdoor production, as not only were the actors miked, but the original music by Linda Eisenstein, which was wonderful appropriate, was played at a suitable—and subtle—(not ear-blasting) volume. (With apologies to these craftspersons, but I could find no credits for them in the printed program.) Costuming by Alison Hernan was primarily contemporary street clothes, in mostly black and white, contributing to the ensemble effect. I didn't find any credit for whoever did the cutting of the script, but it was masterful. All the leisure was removed, leaving only the essentials, allowing for the much shorter-than-usual running time.
The acting was much better than one might expect for such a small company, and in such unusual venues. (Each of the two plays produced this summer were performed at the Shaker Heights Colonnade and Tri-C's Western Campus, in addition to this downtown location. Each site had optional indoor space available if necessary because of weather.)
Jesse James Kamps was Duke Orsino. Quite literally, he really was! Regal in manner and appearance, he was convincing whether moping about for Olivia or just being himself. His realization of the identity of Cesario/Viola made for tender moments. Bernadette Clemens as Lady Olivia was equally regal as the original target of his wooing, who shifts out of her deep mourning rather abruptly upon first sight of Cesario, serving as emissary pleading the cause of the Duke.
Shakespeare had a great fondness for his clowns, and I think he would have been well pleased with the group from this play: the afore-mentioned Branstein; Christine McBurney as the maid, Maria; Aaron B. Coleman as Sir Andrew Aguecheek; Keith Kornajcik as Fabian and Michael Roache as the Fool, or Feste as he is sometimes known.
As the dour Malvolio, Lady Olivia's steward, the estimable Robert Hawkes took advantage of every suitable opportunity to chew up the scenery, and did so with great relish! His transformation to the eager lover, wearing yellow hose, cross-gaitered, was a thing of great delight, as was his woeful air upon being released from his cellar imprisonment. At the end, however, he really stormed bravely as he thundered his pledge of revenge against the clowns who had so misled him with the forged letter.
In the meantime, of course, Viola's twin Sebastian enters the scene along with Antonia, a warrior from another city, who has battled Orsino and remains his enemy. In a neat bit of cross-casting, Jennifer Clifford becomes the experienced soldier (usually Antoni-o) who befriends Sebastian and then assists him in a duel with Sir Andrew. Except of course, that it's Cesario who she rescues. Sebastian has been led astray by Olivia, who, thinking he was Cesario, and she was about to have her heart's desire, has married him! So, finally, not only are the twins re-united, but each has found true love.
Yes, the story line is confusing, but originally, it was meant to illustrate the medieval-era revels of the winter holiday season, and no doubt the audience would have been in a very celebratory mood with the punchbowl close at hand. The way it played out last night, however, the confusion level was very minimal, and the entire production was very enjoyable, as well as understandable.
There is one more performance this summer: Sunday evening, August 10 at 7 pm. If you find you've missed it, be sure to take note of the name of 'the little company that could'—Cleveland Shakespeare Festival. All of their performances are free and open to the public.