SPACE FOR REFLECTION

A conversation with Simon Godwin

Simon Godwin, Artistic Director of the acclaimed Shakespeare Theatre Company (Washington, D.C.) makes his operatic debut this summer. Before rehearsals began, he spoke with Glimmerglass Dramaturg Kelley Rourke about the Bard’s timeless work—and how he approaches it.

The story of Romeo and Juliet is one of the most popular dramas of all time—not only is it a cornerstone of any classical theater’s repertory, it has also inspired paintings, films, operas, and more. Why does the story of these star-crossed lovers hold such power?

Shakespeare was preoccupied with universal themes. He was drawn to stories everyone could connect to— fathers and children in King Lear; identity and desire in Twelfth Night; falling in love in Romeo and Juliet.

Shakespeare’s interest in what we all share is reflected in the form— his plays are written in iambic pentameter—which is a rhythm based on the beat of the heart. Recent studies have shown that audience members’ heartbeats synchronize when watching a live theatrical performance. Shakespeare didn’t know this, but he knew it intuitively, and the literary form he chose, that pulse, has a unifying effect on everyone watching.

In Romeo and Juliet, we have two young people discovering love as a way of being free. It’s a different kind of love than the love that they’ve known so far. It begins as a commitment to each other and to building a secret alliance between their feuding families. They hope their love will heal the enmity between the warring Capulets and Montagues. The irony and the tragedy is that their story goes so wrong.

This is your first time directing opera, but certainly not your first time thinking about music as a theatrical device. How do you think about the role of music in plays vs. opera?

Shakespeare was fascinated by music. His plays are full of songs, and they were originally performed with an onstage band. As the modern stage becomes ever closer to cinema, underscoring has become a very important storytelling tool. In my recent production of King Lear at Shakespeare Theatre Company, there was music (melody and harmony) as well as a frequent sonic underscoring (breath, a military presence, a kind of psychological pulse).

As I embark on my first opera, I need to rethink all these techniques. Here, the music leads everything—tempo, emotion, character. I’m interested, as well, in music’s ability to expand or shrink the visual. In the original play, Shakespeare, for example, uses music to create the party. Yet this scene is always a challenge to direct, since you must keep turning the music down to hear the speech! In opera, it’s seamless. You can keep the music and the party going, while gaining access to both the epic and the intimate. The music becomes a kind of camera allowing us to sweep in and out of this exhilarating and momentous journey.

You lead Shakespeare Theatre Company in Washington, D.C., a company that is at once devoted to work that is centuries old and committed to offering a fresh, modern perspective. What do you think is gained by re-examining classics?

Scholarship has revealed the extent to which Shakespeare’s texts are extremely unstable. There were multiple versions, multiple sources, and many collaborators. The plays, as written, are also longer than the time it would have taken for them to be staged. In the prologue of Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare describes the “two hours' traffic of our stage,” but, if you do the full printed text, it’s more like three and a half hours! So that provides some clues about performance practice—these plays were written to be cut. The idea of the perfect, untouchable text is simply inaccurate. You do Shakespeare the best service when you approach him with the kind of mischievous, provocative, and playful approach he himself applied.

Tell us about the approach you and your collaborators have taken for this production of Romeo and Juliet.

Shakespeare was interested in presenting plays that spoke to his own time and to his audience. Based on the very few pieces of evidence we have, we know the plays were not performed as historical re-enactments. Old stories were remodeled, and the costumes were contemporary.

Like Shakespeare, we’ve started with the present moment. So, the setting is modern. However, Verona is still a parallel plane, as Nabokov once said. It’s both timely and timeless. We’ve sought to deliver the drama and glamor and epic scale that the story needs, while suggesting these people could be our parents, our children, our cousins, our community.

As I venture into opera, into a world with so many new relationships, it felt good to bring some established collaborators with me. Jonathan Goddard, our choreographer, is a fantastic dancer, and over the years he’s helped me bridge the gaps between words and bodies, how actors can physicalize intentions. Jon’s understanding of music will be critical for me as I chart this journey from the spoken to the sung. Dan Soule, who has done the sets, knows how to blend modernity with a commitment to spectacle. Loren Shaw has previously created amazing costumes for STC in Washington. At the same time working with the singers, the orchestra and, of course, Maestro Colaneri is a privilege. Gounod’s vision is a bold and glorious one. Finally, his music is going to be my biggest ally in serving Shakespeare, and delivering a huge wave of emotion and excitement. Love sounds like this……!

When we began this conversation, you asked what it meant to put love first, above all else. How does the story of Romeo and Juliet respond to this question?

As they say in Armenia, “every stick has two ends,” and the opposite of love is hate. Quick to love, quick to hate. Before marrying Romeo and Juliet, Friar Laurence advises them to “love moderately.” But how do we “love moderately”? Isn’t love, by definition, immoderate? This is why Shakespeare is so rich. He adores all the contradictions and paradoxes that our lives are built around. Shakespeare doesn’t resolve the questions. He invites us to reflect on what it is like being driven by our feelings; he reveals the joy and tragedy of being led by our hearts.

Charles Gounod and “the Artistic Vocation”

“I emerged from the theater thoroughly at variance with the prose of real life, and completely wrapped up in that dream of the idea which had become my atmosphere, my fixed purpose. I did not close my eyes that night! I was beset, possessed! I thought of nothing but of producing—I also—an Othello!” (Charles Gounod, Memoirs)

Eight years after being “possessed” by a performance of Rossini’s Othello, Charles Gounod (1818-1893) was awarded the Prix de Rome. Immersing himself in the storied city, the young composer was deeply moved by both the liturgical music and the sacred paintings he found in its churches. When Gounod returned to Paris, he took a post as a church musician, and even enrolled in seminary for a time. Although he eventually returned to his first vocation—music—his faith remained at the center of his thought and work.

“Man’s sublime function is literally and positively that of a new earthly Creator. His duty is to make all things what they ought to become. Not merely in the matter of the cultivation of the soil of our earth, but also as regards intellectual and moral culture—justice, love, science, arts, trade, and manufactures—no consummation nor true conclusion is possible save through Man, to whom creation was confided that he might till it—”ut operatur terram,” as the old text of the Book of Genesis runs. An artist, then, is not simply a sort of mechanical apparatus which receives or reflects the image of exterior and visible objects; he is a sensitive and living instrument, which wakes to consciousness and vibrates at the touch of Nature. And this vibration it is which at once indicates the artistic vocation, and is the primary cause of any work of art.” (Charles Gounod, Nature and Art)

Gounod continued to write religious music for the rest of his life; he also made good on his teenage ambition to compose opera. The singer/composer Pauline Viardot, whom Gounod had met in Rome, suggested he compose a work for the Paris Opera with a leading role for her: Sapho premiered in 1851 and was followed by commissions for La nonne sanglante and Ivan le terrible. The latter was never performed, and Gounod moved on to a new theater—and new collaborators. Le médicin malgré lui, with a libretto by Jules Barbier and Michel Carré, premiered at the Théâtre-Lyrique, a house established to bring opera to the masses. Barbier and Carré went on to write eight libretti for Gounod, including the wildly popular Faust (1859)—which became one of the most-performed French operas of all time—and Roméo et Juliette (1867).

For their adaptation of Shakespeare’s tragedy, Gounod and his librettists zoomed in on the protagonists, making four love duets the pillars of their opera. Gounod’s sensitive and expressive text setting perfectly complements Shakespeare’s poetry, and much of the libretto is taken directly from the play. Shakespeare’s Prologue offered an irresistible opportunity for Gounod, a master of choral writing. Juliette’s “Je veux vivre,” on the other hand, has no Shakespearean equivalent, but the prima donna must have a showy Act One aria! And the opera’s Romeo lives until Juliet awakes, allowing the lovers a final duet and prayer for forgiveness—a move Gounod must have found not only musically but also morally satisfying.

Sung in Italian with projected English text.

Five performances: July 28, 31m; August 6m,12,17, 2023

Running time: 2 hours and 30 minutes, including one 25-minute intermission

In a hospital ward, a boy recovering from an operation distracts himself with stories of knights and their heroic deeds. In the bed beside him, an unconscious girl is fighting for her life. The boy becomes deeply absorbed in the storybook, imagining himself the hero of an unfolding tale.

Rinaldo Anthony Roth Costanzo

Almirena Jasmine Habersham

Armida Keely Futterer*

Goffredo Kyle Sanchez Tingzon*

Argante Korin Thomas-Smith*

Sorcerer Nicholas Kelliher*

Dancer Madison Hertel*

Dancer Peter Murphy*

Dancer Emma Sucato*

The Glimmerglass Festival Orchestra

Conductor Emily Senturia

Director Louisa Proske

Choreographer Jorrell Lawyer-Jefferson*

Set Designer Matt Saunders

Costume Designer Montana Blanco

Lighting Designer Amith Chandrashaker

Projections Designer Jorge Cousineau

Hair & Makeup Tom Watson

Projected Titles Kelley Rourke

Assistant Director Marinette Gomez*

Assistant Conductor Micah Gleason*

Principal Coach/Ripieno Harpsichord Christopher Devlin

Assistant Coach Yueqi Zhang*

Stage Manager Luci Burdick

*Member of the Young Artists Program

Detailed ensemble casting is available on glimmerglass.org.

Rinaldo, encouraged by his King, Goffredo, pledges to join the fight against Argante, their mysterious adversary. Argante requests a temporary truce, which Goffredo grants. Argante consults the sorceress Armida, who reveals that their side will be victorious if they can capture Rinaldo; she pledges to take the knight herself.

Meanwhile, Rinaldo finds himself mesmerized by Goffredo’s daughter, Almirena. Armida, seeing an opportunity, seizes the girl as bait. Rinaldo is paralyzed by grief but then, encouraged by Goffredo, sets off to save her.

In Armida’s enchanted domain, Almirena weeps, Argante considers his next move, and Armida waits for Rinaldo to appear. When Rinaldo attempts to rescue Almirena, the battle is intensified and complicated by Armida’s attraction to Rinaldo. Using magic, she disguises herself as Almirena, and thus succeeds in capturing Rinaldo.

Goffredo learns of Rinaldo’s plight; he and the other knights decide to storm Armida’s castle, despite a sorcerer’s warnings. When their first attempt is unsuccessful, they return to the sorcerer, who arms them with magic, allowing them to rescue both Rinaldo and Almirena.

The heroes are reunited, still reeling from all they have endured. Argante and Armida soon appear and the fighting begins again. Rinaldo’s heroic response brings the war to a definitive conclusion, freeing combatants on both sides to begin a new life.