Sunday, April 24, 2016

SHAKESPEARE SPECIAL....Where There's Will


SHAKESPEARE SPECIAL
Where There's Will


To go or not to go? Go and be possessed by the plays
and places of Shakespeare in Stratford-upon-Avon

April, TS Eliot said, is the cruellest month, but for addicts
of William Shakespeare, it is probably just the opposite
-the inimitable Bard was bap tised (his birthday is a bit
of an issue with experts) and he died in April.
More so this April, as it commemo rates four centuries
of Shakespeare's passing. And even though London swirls
with events and activities, the place to be is
Stratford-upon-Avon, his birthplace, where he is front
and centre and almost everything revolves around him.
Having grown up on a rather heavy dose of Shakespeare,
it is with sup pressed excitement that I set out.
London's suburbs fall away and the bus races northwest
towards Strat ford-upon-Avon, the scenery perceptibly
changes. Solid and large buildings give way to wide
open and lush green meadows dotted with cattle, fields
and farms with rolls of golden hay, hedges that run for
miles and disappear into the horizon, and picture postcard
villages with pret ty houses fronted by even prettier gardens.
The bus sweeps into the squeaky-clean terminal in
Stratford-upon-Avon and as soon as I get off, I am fascinated.
Leading from the terminal is a series of brass plates embedded
on the pavement leading to the most famous waterbody of
the town -the river Avon, and thence forward, the city centre.
It seems the perfect cue for some of the famous Shakespearean
 lines from Hamlet to Romeo and Juliet and everything else
in between to begin a slow ticker scroll in the head.
The town itself is small with the river running right through
it and a population of less than 30,000. It is a warren of
streets and a crowded high street, and almost everything
hinges on its most famous resident. Interestingly, I was
told that many other famous personalities lived in and
around Stratford, or visited, at various times in history.
These include Oliver Cromwell, JB Priestley, George Bernard Shaw, Arthur C Clarke and Nathaniel Hawthorne. But there's nothing to show for it and all of them have been overshadowed.
For some reason, it brings to mind the opening line of the
famous monologue, “All the world's a stage...“
from As You Like It. To this day, the town is indeed a stage
for Shakespeare! I start near the river Avon (which ac tually
translates to river) that runs through the centre of the town.
I am struck by overwhelming Shakespearean references.
Setting the tone for the visit is a little park adjoining the
river which has large black stone statues of characters
from Shakespeare's plays.

Age Cannot Wither
On a raised platform is a tall central pedestal on which is
the Bard himself is seated in an elaborate chair. The four
corners of the platform are occupied by four prominent
characters from his plays, Lady Macbeth, Falstaff, Prince
Hal and Hamlet, supposedly representing tragedy, comedy,
history and philosophy, the main themes that run through
his plays.The characters seem all too real, frozen in time.
Of them, however, Hamlet has the great est hold,
his brooding, drooping image full of pathos. Inevitably,
his immortal line, “To be or not to be...“, echo in my head.
Before melancholy can subsume me, I leave Hamlet to his
indecisiveness and stroll down to the river's edge, which
is lined with tiny boats, selling all kinds of knick-knacks,
souvenirs, sketches and watercolours. Nearby, at the
water's edge, a gaggle of geese demands attention and
food from visitors. On the river, boats are plying up and
down; some are carrying visitors, others are carrying on
with their daily routine.
What draws my attention is the beautiful and striking
building further along the bank, the Royal Shakespeare
Company's theatre, the Swan Theatre. It is a sprawling
structure of red and grey, where Shakespeare's plays are
performed almost throughout the year. I linger, struck by
the scene, letting the river and everything around banish
the last vestiges of melancholy. Unbidden, the line,
“I feel within me a peace above all earthly dignities,
a still and quiet conscience“, from Henry VIII comes to mind.

400 Years Ago
The peace is broken by a bunch of enthusiastic kids and I find
my way back to the main road and town centre. At the
information desk I pick up a little map and head first to a
place simply called Nash's House, which has a collection of
furniture and furnishings from Shakespeare's time.
More interesting is the set foundations and grounds next
door called the New Place where Shakespeare lived from
the end of 16th century to his death in 1616.
From there, I make my way to Anne Hathaway's Cottage
where A n n e -S h a k e speare's wife -lived before her
marriage.Nearby is also Mary Arden's house, where
Shakespeare's mother lived. Neither of them quite catches
my imagination and is quite dreary and far-from-glamorous
but provides a glimpse of what life might have looked like
in those times.
Disappointment is quickly pushed aside at the beautiful
and ancient Holy Trinity Church where Shakespeare was
baptised and both he and Anne are buried. It stands on
lovely grounds and is calm and serene.According to popular
lore, Shakespeare is believed to have been born on
April 23 and died on that same date, separated by about
55 years. There is no consensus on his birthday among
historians and experts, but there is widespread agreement
that he was baptised on April 26, 1564. Shakespeare
himself might have had the last laugh about this controversy
and would probably quote, “When we are born we cry that
we are come to this great stage of fools“, from King Lear.
However, it is at the grey-and-brown, timbered Tudor house
on Henley Street, with its classic gabled roof, that I feel
Shakespeare's strongest presence. This house belonged
to his father John Shakespeare and it is where he was born.
After a succession of inheritances, it became an inn and a
public house in the 17th century but was reacquired in the
19th century and renovated to look like the original. As I
walk around inside, I notice that the rooms and furniture
resemble the style of Shakespeare's days and I try to imagine
the life that Shakespeare led.
Stepping out of the house, I wander along Henley Street
filled with a plethora of shops selling all kinds of memorabilia,
all related to Shakespeare. In one of them, I chance upon a
beautifully done and yet sinisterlooking print on cloth with
three witches standing in front of an obscenely large cauldron.
Above them are another of my favourite lines -“Double,
double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and caldron bubble“
from Macbeth. It has a compelling feel and I can't resist
buying it.
By now, the sky is a dull grey and the evening shadows
are quite lengthy. I wander around some more, peeking
into the Grammar School where he studied, some of the
town houses and Falstaff 's Experience, which takes visitors
through a strange and funny ride through time. Finally,
I wind up again at the river's edge, drawn magically and
soothed by its gentle flowing waters.
Darkness falls like a curtain, quite suddenly, and I
reluctantly turn away, picking up my pace towards
the bus terminal. My head is reeling with snatches of
Shakespeare quotes, some well-known, others quite obscure
but which have found a connection with my head and heart.
As the bus meanders out, I crane my neck for a last glimpse.
In my head pops the most appropriate line, from Romeo
and Juliet: “Goodnight, goodnight! Parting is such
sweet sorrow.“
Perhaps the perfect line on which to end the trip.

Anita Rao-Kashi
ETM24APR16


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