This summer, enjoy some Shakespeare – for free!

June 29, 2009

 I love summer for all the traditional reasons – warm days, long sunlit evenings, fresh berries, and vacation – but another reason I look forward to summer each year is that it is the season of Shakespeare in the Park. Two Seattle theatre companies, Wooden O and GreenStage, tour local parks throughout July and August, each presenting two plays. My husband can attest that I start getting excited about this season each year around March. Why is this so exciting? I love theatre, but attending plays can be pretty expensive. This is my yearly opportunity to see four professionally produced plays for free.

Not sure if you’re a Shakespeare fan? This is a great way to experience Shakespeare for the first time. It’s a no-risk situation, really: the play is free, and you may just discover a new love of theatre and Shakespeare. I got my own first taste of the Bard’s work when, as a fourteen-year-old, I attended Wooden O’s production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Lynndale Park. As the players enacted this comic fairytale in the amphitheatre, the surrounding trees and deepening dusk added to the story’s enchantment. Since then, I’ve seen at least a dozen plays in local parks. I’ve become a Shakespeare addict.

Over the years, I have invited many friends to join me for these experiences. Some friends were dubious at first, but they wound up being surprised by how much fun Shakespeare can be. Four hundred years have passed since Shakespeare wrote his plays, but the tragedies are still rich with fascinating  and believable characters who demonstrate human potential for nobility, as well as corruption. And the comedies still spring to life as actors and directors interpret them and put their own spin on the stories and characters.

Sound interesting to you? If so, I’d like to offer a few tips for getting the most from your Shakespeare in the Park experience:

  • Check the schedules on the GreenStage and Wooden O websites. There are lots of options, and if you plan ahead, you can choose a time and place that work best for you.
  • Rich language is one of the joys of Shakespeare, but it can be difficult for us twenty-first century Americans to follow. My suggestion: after you’ve decided on a play, check it out from the library. Or buy it used – used copies of Shakespeare plays are abundant and cheap. You can enjoy watching Shakespeare even if you haven’t read the play ahead of time, but I appreciate a performance even more when I’ve read the play recently and the words are fresh in my memory. That way, I’m able to start tracking with the story immediately instead of straining to get used to the language.
  • On the day of the play, show up early. Seats fill up fast, and you’ll want to sit close to the stage, because ambient noise (cars on a nearby street or airplanes overhead) can make it harder to hear the actors … and that makes it a bit more difficult to decipher the Elizabethan English.
  • When you show up early, bring a picnic. Many of the performances begin at seven. Get there at six, set up some blankets or lawn chairs, and spread out your food. Wine and cheese, or chicken nuggets and Dr. Pepper – whatever suits your fancy.
  • Be prepared for weather. This is Seattle, after all. A few years ago I went to see Hamlet at Lynndale. As usual, I got there extra early … and sat in the rain for forty-five minutes. Just as the play was about to begin, the rain stopped. As the final scene was coming to a close and Horatio was making his (actually, in this production it was her) final speech to the audience, drops of rain began to fall again. The actors performed powerfully, and I was glad I was there to see them … and very glad that I had a raincoat and some extra blankets to make the wait in the rain bearable.
  • Okay … so I mentioned it was free. And it is, but theatre companies generally don’t make a whole lot of money, so they will be asking for donations at the end of the show. You’re under no obligation, but it’s not a bad idea to have a few bucks handy to drop into the actors’ hats as you leave. It’s a small price to pay for outdoor theatre in your neighborhood, and the actors (being actors) will probably express their gratitude to you dramatically.

That’s it. I hope you’re inspired to check out some Shakespeare and support local theatre. See you in the park!


Adventure and the Eatable Hero

June 19, 2009

To a Christian, existence is a story, which may end up in any way. In a thrilling novel (that purely Christian product) the hero is not eaten by cannibals; but it is essential to the existence of the thrill that he might be eaten by cannibals. The hero must (so to speak) be an eatable hero.

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- G.K. Chesterton in Orthodoxy

It’s been a few years since I read Orthodoxy, but the phrase “eatable hero” sticks with me, because it so clearly and humorously captures the essence of adventure. Adventure always involves risk, and a “sense of adventure” is simply the willingness to brave the risk in order to gain the reward.

As a first-grade kid, I read adventure stories longingly. I so desired to be a part of a story where the stakes were high – a story that involved a quest, a battle, a transformation. I wanted Narnia; I wanted dragons; I wanted hidden treasure or a secret mission. I was also very shy and tended to worry about life. (I was especially concerned that the earth might get hit by a meteor, or I might go blind from looking at the sun too long during an eclipse … stuff like that.) At twenty-six, I’m pretty much the same girl I was at six – longing for adventure, but a little shy and anxious for safety. Except now I worry about finances and international politics instead of cataclysmic cosmic events. My worries have become a bit more prosaic.

Stories are a good antidote to worry, not because they make me feel safe from danger, but because they remind me that without danger, there is no story. If the hero isn’t “eatable,” the story isn’t exciting. Stories put the joy back into the risk-taking, restoring my sense of adventure. You’ve probably heard this quote by Helen Keller:

Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is a daring adventure or nothing at all.

Agreed. But I find I do need some security – something to keep me from melting in the uncertainty of it all. There is really only one guarantee, but I think it is enough. Here it is: Nothing – nothing life brings, no power in the universe, not even death – can pull us out of Jesus’ love.

In Matthew 10, Jesus instructs his disciples before sending them out on a risky mission. This is my summary/paraphrase:

I am sending you out into adventure – dangerous but rewarding. I believe you can be like me. Don’t value your life so much that you miss this adventure. My Father and I are the ones who determine your value, and you are so valuable to us.

I think I will have more to write about this soon; for the time being, I’m signing off. But I’ll leave you with a reading list to further inspire you to adventure. Happy reading, and happy adventures!

 

Further Reading:

Matthew 10

Orthodoxy by G.K. Chesterton

“Leap Before You Look” by W.H. Auden (It’s not a long poem; you can read it all by following this link. Read it here! Read it now!)

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien (Bilbo Baggins is a delightful character who gives me such hope for myself.)


Take it with you

June 13, 2009

Yesterday, the last day of a tough workweek, I treated myself to a latte. “I am always amazed at how much better coffee makes me feel,” I told my sister Lindsey that night.

Lindsey agreed, “It’s because it gives you something to look forward to, and then you savor it for as long as you can. It’s this thing that you get from the outside world, and you get to take it back into work with you.”

I had never thought of it that way before, but it made a lot of sense. So often, the things I have to do – working, cleaning, running errands – feel tedious and tiresome. They can break me down. It really does help to have a little something to take with me. Usually the things I bring with me are stories, songs, or art.

I brought two stories  and a poem with me this week. One was Shakespeare’s  The Tempest, which I saw performed by Seattle Shakespeare Company last Saturday. I wrote in my journal afterward:

Good theatre always makes me grateful to be human. Tonight it was Prospero, realizing that even as ruler of spirits, master of magic, holding his enemies in the palm of his hand, he was prisoner of his own unforgiveness. I loved watching as he laid down his power, his right to revenge, and became free – fully human once again. Vulnerable and alive.

And so the play came with me this week. Go see it! The production runs for a few more weeks. The music, set, and costumes are beautiful, as is the story.

The other story I took with me was the novel Crooked Little Heart by Anne Lamott. I read it hungrily; I so wanted to know what was going to happen, and I loved the characters. It was a very human story, told well. That’s what I like in a novel. The book’s title alludes to Auden’s poem “As I Walked Out One Evening”  – one of my favorites. And so that poem has also come with me this week, rattling around pleasantly in the back of my head. Read it here, then take it with you as you go on your way.


The Starfish

June 5, 2009

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In the middle ages of the night

When dark waves break on the shore of the sea,

The moon hangs low and the stars hang high,

Clinging tight to the roof of the sky,

And the starfish cling to the floor of the sea.

 

The starfish don’t have starfish nations;

They live in starfish constellations

And laugh at human obligations,

But their laughter is drowned by the roar of the sea.

 

© Elise Morrison Siegel 2009


Why It Matters

June 1, 2009

Wild RoseRecently I’ve had a lot of conversations with family about the future – goals, plans, dreams. It’s got me thinking, and I find that I’m unclear as to what’s next.

This morning I listened to Add to the Beauty by Sara Groves. I can’t think of an album that more clearly resonates with what I believe about love, beauty, and the Kingdom of God. As I sing along to the title song, I mean every word: “I want to add to the beauty, to tell a better story, shine with the light that’s burning up inside. And this is grace – an invitation to be beautiful.” That might be the best definition of grace I’ve ever heard.

The song that has been on my mind over the past couple of days, though, is this one. Because as Jeremy and I plan for the future, I can’t help but consider my life-long dream of being a writer. Creative writing rarely makes money; I don’t know if it will ever be a career, and that can be discouraging. So why do it? This song reminds me why it matters.

 

Why It Matters

By Sara Groves

 

Sit with me and tell me once again

Of the story that’s been told us

Of the power that will hold us

Of the beauty, of the beauty

Why it matters

Speak to me until I understand

Why our thinking and creating

And why our efforts of narrating

About the beauty, of the beauty

Why it matters

Like a statue in the park

Of this war torn town

And its protest of the darkness

And this chaos all around

With its beauty, how it matters

How it matters

Show me a love that never fails

Some compassion and attention

Midst confusion and dissention

Like small ramparts for the soul

How it matters

Like a single cup of water

How it matters


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