Text Adapter and Dramaturg Toby Malone shares the story of how the text for Driftwood’s Hamlet came to be.

I feel like it started out as a dare.

It wasn’t a bet, but it certainly felt like a challenge. In early 2012 I was in New York City attending a Shakespeare workshop run by Sandy Thomson, artistic director of Scotland’s largest permanent ensemble, called Poorboy Theatre, based in Auchmithie, a tiny fishing village not far from Dundee.   Sandy’s relationship with Shakespeare was all about the scripts’ visceral immediacy, and she told me all about Poorboy’s attempt to dive in to the plays in such a way that would honour the writing while still maintaining the primacy of actors’ impulses. She had designed a concept called ‘Blast Shakespeare’, where her ensemble would gather to be (sometimes randomly) assigned roles in a Shakespeare play, sight-unseen. The ensemble then threw themselves into the process and staged the play, at pace, without stopping, from top to bottom, with scripts in hand and roaming all over the venue in a promenade style. Then a lunch break, then the audience arrives to watch the tumultuous performance.

Sandy had staged a number of these ‘Blast Shakespeares’ when we first met, including a go at Hamlet in two versions: first the lengthy (4000+ lines), familiar 1623 Folio copy, and then later, for fun, the less-known, much shorter (nearly half the length) and rougher (“To be or not to be, ay, there’s the point”) 1603 First Quarto. The 1603 Quarto has in the past been called the ‘Bad Quarto’ for its flaws, but Sandy marveled at the pace of the piece, and the way the scenes flew by, unlike the austere, beautiful-sounding Folio version, which took four hours to ‘Blast’ and nearly killed the actor playing Hamlet. She mused aloud, over breakfast (and hilariously kitted out from head to toe in tartan for a Scots parade later that morning), that wouldn’t it be interesting if we could find a way to combine the line and scene structure of the First Quarto with the lovely poetry of the Folio? No worries, I said. I’ll whip something up.

A few months later, I had combined the text through parallel-text comparison, and uncovered a script worth testing. I left nods to the First Quarto in the script, along with some unusual character names (Polonius is Corambis, for example), and found that aside from some interesting speech restructuring, the play hung together nicely. Then it was off to Glasgow to join Sandy and the Poorboys to see if it worked.   With a stunning cast of game Scottish actors, and a Hamlet played by RSC regular Brian Ferguson (who recently played the role at Glasgow’s Citizens Theatre in a 4-star performance the Scotsman called ‘nervy and furious’), this new version of the script – cheekily retitled The Hamlet Variorum – absolutely flew. We performed the text in a stark Glasgow church hall and I could not get over the energy lent by the Scottish bravura, along with the nuance that the local accents allowed. Thrilled with success, Sandy committed to come to Toronto to try it again, this time with local actors.

Staged at the Luella Massey Studio at U of T, this new Blast featured Driftwood alums Chris Stanton (Macbeth), Geoff Pounsett (Trafalgar 24) and Tim Machin (Macbeth, Twelfth Night), an imported Poorboy in our Hamlet, Jeremiah Reynolds (who played the title role in one of the early Scottish Blasts), along with our future Driftwood Hamlet, Paolo Santalucia, who did his apprenticeship in the roles of Rossencraft, Voltemar, Barnardo, the Second Gravedigger and the Player Queen. Roaming around the falling-down former Russian Orthodox church, watching the creativity flow from this committed group, we knew we were on to something. But it was still an experimental script.

When Jeremy asked me to think about how Hamlet might be edited to fit a Driftwood season, I gave him The Hamlet Variorum as food for thought, not as a potential solution. I am both gratified and terrified that he has so wholeheartedly embraced this script, and am very aware that people may miss the ‘old’ version. Regardless, I’m excited by the potential in allowing this structure to breathe, and with such a stunning cast I have no doubt that it is going to fly. It’s an immediate, visceral take on the play: actor Peter Guinness (who incidentally played Claudius opposite Brian Ferguson at the Citz) once called the First Quarto “Hamlet with the brakes off.” In today’s culture, brakes are the last thing we want on Shakespeare, and a tumultuous, riotous approach to this script feels right for us and the Bard’s Bus Tour.

I keep thinking of this as the last phase in an experiment that I can then publish on, but it’s more than that. It’s a reminder that behind the famous words and speeches remains a family drama reeking with urgency and pace, and we don’t get to see that very often.

I’m so very excited to get started.

Toby.

 

…but in ourselves

Starting your journey with the Creative Roots Theatre Training Intensive

Driftwood isn’t an institution. We don’t have a physical building to call home, we don’t keep a warehouse full of sets and props and costumes (more like a locker), even our producing staff work “in the cloud” collaborating through the internet from offices across the province. In a way, Driftwood is as ephemeral as theatre itself; the legacy we are building is not tangible, but it is a legacy nonetheless.

In the absence of any physical structure to leave behind, I decided a long time ago that Driftwood’s legacy would be about fostering a strong future of theatre in Canada, nurturing the creative energy of the next generation of actors, artists and technicians. These are our Creative Roots.

Over the last twenty years, we’ve offered emerging actors their first professional gig, provided paid apprenticeships to early career directors, designers and technicians, and two years ago, we launched our Creative Roots Theatre Training Program for Young Actors.

As we’re currently accepting applications from teens who would like to participate in this two-week summer theatre intensive, I thought it would be an apt time to reflect on the origin and philosophy of the program.

When we made the decision to include young actor training as part of our outreach activities, I knew exactly who I would approach to develop the program: Peter van Gestel.

Peter is a long-time friend. We bonded during my third year at Queen’s University (about 20 years ago) when, as fate would have it, I ended up both designing scenery and playing Horatio to Peter’s Hamlet in a local theatre company’s production that great play. From that time on Peter has been one of my best and most trusted friends.

No, being my friend doesn’t exactly make Peter qualified to develop and lead a training program for young actors. But his extraordinary credentials most certainly do.

Peter has trained at some of the best institutions in the country (Queen’s University, B.A., M.Ed.; the National Theatre School of Canada; Stratford Birmingham Conservatory for Classical Theatre), has worked for some of its finest theatres (Stratford, Mirvish, Factory, Grand Theatre), and has been teaching performance in Canada for many years.

Moreover, we share the same ideology when it comes to the work of William Shakespeare. When I spoke with him recently about why he felt it was important to lead the Creative Roots program, he offered:

“After a performance during one of the Driftwood tours I was on as an actor, I spoke with a friend who studied the play in high school and her comments to me about the performance and how it deepened her understanding and connection to the play impacted her. She spoke of being afraid to come to the performance that evening because of a fear of Shakespeare. I am glad and proud that we helped with her fear of the language but I was also frustrated because nobody should be afraid of Shakespeare: looked at through the lens of human behaviour instead of the lens of literature makes Shakespeare so much more accessible.”

For Peter, as for me, the value of Shakespeare doesn’t lie in his language, but in his ability to reflect upon us the rhythms and secrets of our own hearts. Shakespeare helps us to understand who we are and what our place in the world might be. And if we can teach that, well then getting through any perceived ‘language’ barrier is a relatively simple process.

In addition to exploring classical theatre, our Creative Roots participants learn from our performers and creators to stretch their theatrical limits.  It is a rigorous, full and intensive program. And it is also richly rewarding.

A day in the life of Creative Roots could include hands-on theatre workshops exploring sound, movement and text, observing a Driftwood rehearsal or performance, attending other professional shows happening around town or preparing their final performance to be shown to friends and family.

Throughout the program, the students are paired with a mentor from the Driftwood company. Peter cites the first connection between student and mentor as one of his favourite moments in the Creative Roots program:

“This moment is memorable for me because it allows the student to make a one on one connection with a working actor. It is an opportunity for the student to see theory put into practice…seeing their mentor “at work” and seeing the production come together from the early stages of rehearsal to show readiness gives them a framework and perspective that the average theatre goer does not usually get.”

The most incredible part about the whole thing is that thanks to the generosity of our partner TD Bank Group the Creative Roots Theatre Training Intensive is offered at no charge to the participants.

So if you are, or if you know a young person with career aspirations in acting, check out the application information on our website. We’re accepting applications until May 15th and we’d love to hear from you!

-Jeremy.