Still catching up, give me time here...
So last time I saw A Midsummer Night's Dream, it was at West Hartford's Hall High School, featuring my theater friend Matt. Well. "Featuring" is a strong word. Even he told us that we shouldn't feel obligated to come, as he was playing a minor role. But since this was around freshman year(?) of high school and I wanted to pretend that I had read more Shakespeare than I actually had, I was like, Why not?
It was a great show. I still count it in my list of Shakespeare productions because it was very good. (Student shows don't typically make the cut for those kind of lists.) I vividly remember the part when my friend had to play a woman. So even minor roles are dear to my heart.
Anyway, I was all up for seeing a French version of Midsummer. I know the play quite well; I actually read it last month, so I'm not even faking it!
Anyway, it was very much like the Châtelet in size and style. I guess that's not the interesting part, though. Let's get to the play.
It's really a shame you can't take pictures sometimes. Since I performed on stage (not in any leading roles, mind you), I know how annoying the flash can be when you're trying to remember whether or not you're supposed to shimmy or spin. But I wish I could show you these costumes that they were wearing, as I certainly can't explain them with justice.
Some of you probably know that Midsummer is very trippy. It's got fairies and amorous lovers and inexperienced actors: things are bound to get weird. The production I saw got creative with makeup, and even pictures I've seen of Midsummer at the Folger Theatre in DC look extremely spacey. So yeah, I was expecting it. What I was not expecting was for two French men to come out dressed in leotards with long furry tails.
Then again, why wasn't I expecting it? There were similar costumes in Le Petit Prince, and that's a children's story, for heaven's sake. The main difference was that these costumes were more... Now what's that word? Oh yes. They were definitely more phallic.
I'm cringing because unlike other times I've let my mouth run off, I'm recalling that not only are my former teachers (supposedly) reading this, but so are my mother, grandmother, and father. Yikes. But yeah. I have to say it because, why not? You're supposed to be seeing Paris through my eyes, goddammit. It's not like I chose to see the phallic stuff.
But yeah. For instance, Bottom's costume--when he's turned into a donkey (ass if the exact term in the text, as it provides wonderful punnery)--goes much farther than sticking a donkey mask on the actor. Yeah, they added something very long between his legs. I'm not sure how he walked. Ew.
Hey, I'm no prude. When we saw Phantom of the Opera--incidentally based on a French novel--the Phantom totally came out in the "Masquerade" sequence wearing a gold pouch over that middle part of his pants. And that was quite tame compared to this, but I remember my friend Katie and I made a huge fuss about it. Well, she was horrified, and I just mostly laughed hysterically, not unlike a 12-year-old boy (even though I was a mature 14-year-old girl).
And it wasn't limited to animal costumes. They use flowers as a very convenient love potion, and well, do I even have to say what the flowers were shaped like? Honestly, it wasn't obvious at first. It only became obvious as Oberon and Puck were waving them around. So there was that, and then the fact that in the first 20 minutes Hermia and Lysander totally stripped down into their underwear--well, what was "underwear" in Shakespeare's day--and ran around onstage. That was unexpected. I mean, Hermia and Helena were actually more covered than the men--which is basically unheard of in American culture and media. Lysander and Demetrius were wearing unitards with the chests cut out. And since they were under the spell of the weird love flower (flower power, anyone?), they would often pose provocatively. Shakespeare would've had a hoot. Man, he would love these French productions. They really don't shy away from these kinds of things. Men totally wear leotards and it seems completely natural.
Anyway, when I exited the theater, I got my second surprise of the night: across the street was the Hotel de Louvre! Now, this hotel is where we Willards were supposed to stay in Paris.
Wait? you say. Willards? Incuding Gareth?
Why yes. I'll recount the Tale of Woe, as my mother probably called it up until a few weeks ago.
About a month before Christmas in 2006, my mother casually asked me if I would rather go to London or Paris, hypothetically. Of course, I am dumb, so I still have yet to realize that in November, anything "hypothetical" is actually just a future gift. Since it was 2006 and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows was expected out that July 2007, I immediately said London. You know, Harry Potter, Oxford, King's Cross--oh, and Tower Bridge, Tower of London, and Buckingham Palace. So Mother, in what she makes seem an act of supreme generosity, switched our tickets from Paris to London and changed our reservations from the Hotel de Louvre to the Chesterfield Hotel.
Now, our family had a delightful time in London. But ever since, my mom has had been "complaining" that I didn't choose Paris, as none of us had been there before. Well, I defended, I don't speak any French. I like Harry Potter. I've never been to London. You asked me when you didn't have to. If you hadn't given the choice, it's not like I would've said, "Oh, man, why do we have to go to Paris? Yawn!"
Of course, my mother's wish finally came true--I think she prayed that I would choose Paris as my study abroad destination. But we never did stay at the Hotel de Louvre... I don't know, because inflation has made it much more expensive. Whaaaa. It's in an ideal location. I mean, yeah, I knew it was right next to the Louvre, but since I mostly enter the Louvre from underground, I actually had never seen the hotel before. Even my fake "aunts" were staying there, though, so it felt right that I should see it eventually. That was nice.
French people really know how to make their Metro stops exciting. Also, as I was sitting on a bench, this raucous group comes over, and one guy sits next to me, basically acting like a mime, and then taking off laughing madly. It just occurred to me that this guy was probably the actor who played Puck--the group definitely looked like us when we'd go out after a Youth Theater show.
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