‘Two lovely berries moulded on one stem’: A Midsummer Night’s Dream @ Shakespeare’s Globe… twice
This might sound weird coming from someone currently undertaking a Shakespeare Studies PhD, but I think of myself as a theatre novice. I’ve seen more film and television versions of Shakespeare than I have stage versions. My research is grounded in Shakespeare on screen, so my focus is predominantly on the history of these plays as they have been adapted for the moving image. So, somewhat perversely, seeing a Shakespeare play performed in a theatre still holds an odd sense of novelty for me. Even more so seeing the same production more than once, something which I hadn’t done before watching Sean Holmes’s production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Shakespeare’s Globe twice this year.
If this year’s Globe production of Dream can be summed up in one word, then that word is ‘bonkers’. The carnival atmosphere of the multicoloured garlands adorning the stage is soon enhanced by the in-your-face repertoire of the Hackney Colliery Band, who ably set the party mood with boisterous, brassy covers of familiar favourites and copious audience interaction. However, there was something of a disconnect during my first viewing of the production, as the performances of the cast never quite reached the same level of affable anarchy as that of the music.
This was perhaps most true of the mechanicals. For me, a version of Dream can often sink or swim based on these characters, and the first time I saw this year’s Globe production I wasn’t wholly convinced. For example, I enjoyed Jocelyn Jee Esien’s motor-mouthed Bottom, peppering Shakespeare’s lines with rapid-fire cultural references in Act 1 Scene 2, but during her earlier performance it all felt a bit too rehearsed to make the character seem believably out of control. The second time, there was no such issue: it genuinely felt like the mechanicals’ rehearsal, and indeed the whole show, could be completely taken over by Bottom at any point.
This feeling of ‘rehearsed’ vs ‘believable’ bonkersness was true more widely of the two performances I saw. The first felt like a cast of actors trying hard to perform something that could descend into chaos, the slightly-too-polished nature of their performances undercutting the madcap mood of Holmes’s production. The second, meanwhile, actually felt like it was on the brink of naturally exploding into something truly bananas throughout.
The factors that come into play to explain the difference between the two performances I saw are almost too numerous to mention. The first time I saw the production was early in the run, the second at the very end, meaning the cast had performed the show together dozens of times in between the two performances I saw. Then there’s the timing of the performances: the first was a Midnight Matinee in July, the second 4pm on a Sunday afternoon in October. The cast had already performed the play earlier the same day before I saw the midnight performance, which may well have had some impact on the show I saw. Similarly, the October performance I saw was the final show of the run — and indeed of the Globe season — and the celebratory atmosphere amongst the both the audience and staff was tangible.
Which leads me on to how much of the difference between my two experiences came not from the production, but from me. Gemma wrote eloquently about subjectivity in her article about archive work, and I was made more aware of my own subjectivity as an audience member at the Globe through watching Dream twice than I’ve ever been before. The factors I brought into the theatre with me both times were starkly brought into focus. I was a groundling both times, but for the first show I stood next to one corner of the stage, watching the action up close. The second, I stood more centrally next to a ramp set up for the production, literally gaining a different perspective. How might my perspective have changed again if I’d chosen to stand elsewhere, or have a seated ticket, or see the show at a different point during its run?
Looking back, perhaps the biggest factor of all was that I’d watched Nicholas Hytner’s immersive production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream at the Bridge Theatre earlier the same evening before watching the Globe production for the first time. My initial viewing of Holmes’s version of the play was therefore framed, both consciously and subconsciously, in comparison to the choices made by Hytner. Even having seen Holmes’s Dream twice and Hytner’s only once, I’m still of the opinion that Hytner’s is the more successful production overall. But I can also recognise that having greater space between watching two versions of the same play allowed Holmes’s Dream to stand more on its own merits the second time around.
Viewing the same production of a play more than once is in general a luxury. One of the key reasons I was able to do it with Holmes’s Dream is the undeniable affordability of groundling tickets at the Globe. But it’s something I will certainly look to do if possible in the future: not only to experience the ways in which a production can grow and develop — and become more comfortable with itself — as its theatre run progresses, but also to help me become ever more aware of my own subjectivity as a consumer of Shakespeare and the arts more widely.
