Showing posts with label Shakespeare Art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shakespeare Art. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

A Midsummer Night's Dream - Art

The fantasy fairy landscape of A Midsummer Night's Dream has been inspiring visual artists for hundreds of years. My favorite Midsummer art that I want to share here is the 1908 collection of illustrations by Arthur Rackham: I was captivated by his delicately ethereal and beautiful, yet complex and dark, vision of Oberon and Titania's woodland fairy world. I'm going to post some of my favorite images here, but check out the whole work here, presented with the text: I especially like the artwork from Act Two.
...the moon, like to a silver bow
New-bent in heaven...(1.1.10-11)
Fairies, away. We shall chide downright if I longer stay. (2.1.515)

"O Bottom, thou art changed!" (3.1.931)

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Richard III in Art

I think the reason that Richard III has inspired so many drawings and paintings is that the play is *so* dramatic. Dramatic even for Shakespeare, which is saying something, right? I wanted to post a few visual art pieces about Richard that I thought were particularly interesting (courtesy of Wikimedia Commons). Feel free to click to see larger versions.

The Guardian ran an article about this first painting a few years ago: "[The actor] David Garrick transfixed London in 1741 when he played Shakespeare's Richard III as a human being instead of a stagy monster. No one had seen acting like it..." Look at that extended hand - there's some commitment in movement! I think we can assume this is the scene in Act 5, Scene 5 when Richard dreams about being visited by the ghosts of all of his victims.
David Garrick as Richard III, by William Hogarth, approx. 1745
"Is there a murderer here?"

This next is a depiction of the same scene, but by William Blake. Since it's Blake, we get all the ghosts...

Friday, February 11, 2011

La Pucelle - History and Movie Review

If you read Henry VI part 1 and you're anything like me, you might have been slightly annoyed at Shakespeare's treatment of Joan of Arc. She's inspiring and disarming (literally) when we first meet her, but by the end of the play, Shakespeare has turned her into a medieval Sabrina the Teenage Witch - complete with a lively interest in boys and a slightly undependable spell-making ability.

Now, we can see why Shakespeare would write it this way - the English are the good guys in his play, and it would hardly do for him to add a plot point in which a French saint was led by holy visions to massacre them. But is there much truth in Shakespeare's portrayal of her? Well, I did a little research, and as much as I like Shakespeare, the general conclusion seems to be no, probably not. As far as can be told, in reality she seems to have been a brave and clever peasant girl who sincerely believed in her visions and in French independence, not in witchcraft and dalliances with French royalty.

Of course, I suspect Shakespeare would not have been particularly upset about his departure from the historical record here (like many of his historical characters, she is there to fulfill a specific role in his story, not to educate us about the true personalities of famous people).

Joan of Arc by Jules Bastien Lepage (click to see a larger version of this amazing painting).

If you're looking for a dramatic portrayal of Joan that is in complete contrast with Shakespeare's propagandistic version, and you by some mischance have insufficient leisure to read Schiller's Die Jungfrau von Orleans in the original German, may I suggest the 1928 Danish film The Passion of Joan of Arc? It's even available on youtube.
This is an extraordinary silent film, directed by Carl Th. Dreyer. It covers the events leading up to Joan's death and focuses on the ecclesiastical trial - the script was made from actual excerpts - and religious complicity in her death (unlike Shakespeare's political emphasis). Although difficult to watch, it's one of the greatest films I've seen.


The actress Maria Falconetti as Joan. None of the cast in this production wore makeup.

The film almost didn't make it until the present day. Shortly after it was released, it was destroyed in a warehouse fire. Another cut prepared by the director from outtakes was destroyed in another fire! A few incomplete versions circulated for years. Finally, in 1981, a complete cut was found in a mental institution in Norway and was restored.

Part of what is most notable about the film is the use of the low angle face shot. Dreyer used it extensively for inquisitorial scenes that capture the businesslike horror of medieval "canon law." 

Special mention goes to the score, written by Richard Einhorn and performed by Anonymous 4 (I fell in love with this recording, which was released as a CD, before I ever saw the movie).

Now, I feel I could go on and on about how amazing this film is, but I've already taken on a lot in writing about it at all - how do you "review" a movie like Casablanca or The Seventh Seal? These are the guys that make the rules! And to me, this film is in a similar category, except very old, sad, European and silent (read: slow, for those of you that only like the action-packed!).

I'll just say that to me, this movie is a reminder of a historical fact: even when it seemed that all of the European supposed "Christians" were unified, there were those - persecuted, silenced and burned - whose beliefs were different. And ours too is a world where people are still persecuted and even killed because of religious differences or 'thought crimes.' Those who decry the multiple denominations and political factions in free societies and long for religious or political unity at any price, take note of the alternative.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Two Gentlemen: Art

I was poking around on the internet (instead of reading this week's play...), and I found some great pictures on Wikimedia Commons that various artists have done based on Two Gentlemen of Verona. If you read the play last week, or even if you didn't, you might enjoy these.

Here's one I like very much, by Alfred Elmore (1815-1881).

Duke: This love of theirs myself have often seen, Haply when they have judged me fast asleep.

The Duke's expression is great. Valentine and Silvia must have been completely twitterpated to think that he was asleep!


Here's Launce and his dog, by Henry Roberts, the "English engraver, printseller and music publisher." Launce is being played by the actor Richard Yates (c. 1706-1796). The name of the doggy actor, however, seems to not be included on Wikimedia.
I think Crab, my dog, be the sourest-natured dog that lives.

But far and away the most popular scene to immortalize in art is the exciting finale, in which Valentine rescues the fair maid from that villian Proteus.
Let's take a look at one by the pre-Raphaelite, William Holman Hunt. Extraordinary, eh?

My shame and guilt confounds me. Forgive me, Valentine.

More pictures here.

If I were going to choose a scene from the play to paint, I think I would pick the scene where Proteus sings to Silvia's balcony and Julia listens. It's so poignant and you could include some neat Renaissance instruments. What would you pick?