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You've still got tonight at 8 p.m. & tomorrow at 2 p.m. to catch it at Lupin Theater!

I was 16 when I auditioned for my first play. “Well, if I suck, at least I’ll know now,”  was my mindset at the time.  The turn-out for auditions was so large, the production that was originally scheduled became a double-cast of Romeo and Juliet.

I was cast as the Nurse and had ZERO experience with the Bard’s words beyond loving the chance to read him aloud in my English courses.  In the frenzied midst of helping build the set, time spent memorizing lines and working on character development (which also entailed learning what the hell that meant), learning the difference between Stage Right and Left, the skill of this-where-I-am-when-I-say/hear-this (otherwise known as blocking), and that a pencil is always better than a pen, something life-altering was waiting in the wings.

The day came that I was scheduled to be off-book (no script in hand) for the scene when I tell young Juliet that her cousin, Tybalt is slain via her beau, Romeo.  The scene began and BAM:  the moment when the lines aren’t lines anymore.

For the first time in my life, I felt the overwhelming surge of that inexplicable-something that only happens when you speak William Shakespeare’s words as if they were your very own.  You remember that he didn’t just write for royalty and nobility; he wrote for the unwashed, illiterate, riotous masses, all of whom were rendered equally powerless to his words.  It’s an energy so potent, that when it’s done just right, you can almost feel it in the air as its invisible electricity explodes away from you and out into the crowd.

“Stop right there,” the Assistant Director said to me from the opposite end of the auditorium, lightly brushing his hand underneath his glasses. “That’s it.  That’s it.  You’re there.”

I owe my life as a theatre artist to that single moment and have since pursued to perform in every show, no matter the genre, with that experience as my compass.  Even as an audience member, it remains the indicative mark of what it means to enjoy a production versus to experience a production.

Two Gentlemen of Verona at Tulane University, under the fine-tooth combed and whimsically stylized direction of Gary Rucker, hit me with the same familiar and unmistakable electricity I’ve come to know so well.

I wasn’t sure of what to expect at first from the look of the set alone: streamlined, industrial, masculine, and wide open, three areas of seating total for an almost in-the-round feeling (the perks of a black box experimental space like Lupin Theater!), with 3 large projector screens, constructed brilliantly with black muslin and piping, set above the side seating areas and upstage, which later proved to be a sleek way of changing from one location to another without having to move a single set piece!  Also, the pre-show announcements, intermission, and end of play were all projected as well, making for zero seconds sitting in the dark unsure of what’s next.  Being the Shakespeare nerd that I am, the only thing that could’ve made me love it more would’ve been Act/Scene projections.

The stage itself proved to be just as versatile – open playing ground for the actors to move as freely as they willed, even for brief dance party transitions (yes, those happened, they were amazing!), which brings me to the wonderful aesthetic choices in this production:

Contemporary costumes with period physicality intermingled with period costumes and  contemporary physicality can be disastrous if not done with down-to-the-marrow specificity.  I usually have an upturned nose reaction myself to ‘modernized’ versions of Shakespeare from time to time, but the collaboration required to achieve this for Two Gentlemen was executed beautifully by Rucker, Costume Designer, Stephen Stines, and Choreographer, Jeffrey Gunshol.  It was an awesome blend of “how dost thou,” and “say whaaa?!” that I never thought possible.  Another unexpected treat was seeing the adorable, fluffy white canine who played Crab, the servant dog.  That’s right, folks, an acting dog!

Vibrant and texturized costumes, excellent music, and the sleek versatility of the set aside, my absolute FAVORITE part of seeing this show last night was that even though its aesthetic had contemporary elements, the paramount level of dedication to the text was undeniable.  

Friendship, betrayal, joy, temptation, jealousy, humor and romance ruminated throughout; the only time I ever lost a single syllable was from the actors having to hold for laughs (did I mention how incredibly funny this play is?), and beyond laughter, there are no words for what it was like to hear an actor like Julia DeLois, playing the love-forsaken Julia, speak the verses of her woe, and in that moment, feel it with her.

Valentine, played superbly by Jesse Friedman, managed to woo me in the dark with one of my favorite monologues.  Imagine the sound of hearing someone’s heart break as you read this, perhaps your own, and you’ll come close to Mr. Friedman’s performance:

Act 3. Scene 1

And why not death rather than living torment?
To die is to be banish’d from myself;
And Silvia is myself: banish’d from her
Is self from self: a deadly banishment!
What light is light, if Silvia be not seen?
What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?
Unless it be to think that she is by
And feed upon the shadow of perfection
Except I be by Silvia in the night,
There is no music in the nightingale;
Unless I look on Silvia in the day,
There is no day for me to look upon;
She is my essence, and I leave to be,
If I be not by her fair influence
Foster’d, illumined, cherish’d, kept alive.
I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom:
Tarry I here, I but attend on death:
But, fly I hence, I fly away from life. 

Every actor wore his and her part with an almost enviable earnestness and ease, including actors Maddie Dean and Erin McCluskey, who had no lines whatsoever, but were completely present from beginning to end.  No one was hamming it up in hopes to be the star of the show, because they all were; the mark of a strong ensemble cast and sharp direction.

There are plays that entertain me, plays that confuse or entice me, and then there are plays that leave me spellbound, reminding me of exactly why I love what I do.  I can confidently say that Tulane University’s Department of Theatre Arts & Dance with The Shakespeare Festival at Tulane accomplished exactly this: love, front and center.

Many thanks and congratulations to the cast, crew, and design team.  Here’s hoping for 2 more sold-out shows!

Tonight (Saturday, March 3) @ 8 p.m. and tomorrow (Sunday, March 4) @ 2 p.m. Lupin Theater at Tulane University.

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xoxo-Moni
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Monica Harris is a professional theatre artist and all-around go-getter.  Originally from Angeles City, Philippines and raised in Fort Worth, TX, she is a proud New Orleanian who, between the 2-job hustle, lives the Bohemian dream.