“Shakespeare’s First Play”

For all that we explore here the importance of Shakespeare to children, the Bard himself endures in popular imagination as utterly adult. In portraits of the day, he appears as the handsome and dignified creator of theatrical worlds; in films like Shakespeare in Love, he is a rakish, romantic lead. Yet in her book An Introduction to Shakespeare (1951), historian Marchette Chute looks to his childhood to illuminate a life-changing event: the day that young William Shakespeare ― born in the cottage pictured here ― saw his first play.

Just the notion of Shakespeare encountering theatre for the first time is striking enough ― who can tell what ideas and images were later brought to life because of that childhood spectacle?

Chute’s retelling of that fateful day is all the more evocative, capturing the excitement of the town of Stratford ― of which Shakespeare’s father was the mayor ― at the arrival of the actors. The town hall became their theatre, the setting of plays filled with sensational scenes, humor, and “moral maxims.” As with Shakespeare’s own plays, there was something for everyone.

Chute closes this account on a contemplative note: “Every year the small boys of Stratford could watch [the actors] unpack their wagons, and some of them must have had visions of growing up to be actors themselves.” There was, of course, only one William Shakespeare; but the dreams of those young people live on hundreds of years later, in the spirit of any child introduced to Shakespeare today. Who knows ― the child in your class might be the next Bard!

©2018

“Magical Last Words”

In life, too often it seems we each want to have the last word. Shakespeare’s characters are no different: Kate in Taming of the Shrew, Rosalind in As You Like It, Puck in A Midsummer Nights’ Dream – each of these figures, among others, offers the epilogue in their respective plays. Summing up the spirit of the work while introducing still more ideas for the audience to consider, the epilogue offers a contemplative conclusion.

Especially reflective is Prospero’s epilogue in Shakespeare’s final play, The Tempest. Here, the magician meditates on the themes of illusion, forgiveness, and the power of art. Indeed, Shakespeare lore has it that the playwright is speaking through Prospero, beseeching the audience to “set [him] free” from their demands upon his own sorcery.

Such biographical interpretations are fascinating but, of course, very tricky to prove. What we do know for certain is that Prospero’s words speak for any artist who has done good work and who wants to bow out gracefully: “[R]elease me from my bands/ With the help of your good hands.”

And so as the audience leaves any production of The Tempest, they may wonder about that eternal dialogue between the artist and their art – and the respective elements of inspiration, creation, and expectation. Prospero – and perhaps Shakespeare – may well have been set free by the end of the play, but the spectator will still be in thrall to those wondrous last words.