The Tempest

Performed at the Illinois Shakespeare Festival, Ewing Manor, Bloomington, Illinois, on July 20th, 1996

Summary Three stars out of five

Presented outdoors in a steady rainfall, an at times performance-art production with mystical insights into male/female duality and the nature of vengeance and forgiveness. Strong comic supporting roles nearly overwhelm the subtle themes.

Design

Directed by Patrick O'Gara. Costumes by Jeanette de Jong. Set by John Stark. Lights by H. Lang Reynolds. Sound by Roderick Peeples.

Cast

Erik Uppling (Sebastian), Charles Constant (Alonso), Vivien Lyon (Francisca), Andrew Heffernan (Antonio), Christopher Peterson (Ferdinand), Aaron Todd Douglas (Gonzalo), David Kortemeier (Prospero), Ericka Kreutz (Miranda), Kathleen McDonnell (Ariel), Steve Young (Caliban), Brendan Hunt (Trinculo), Frank Nall (Stephano).

Analysis

Presenting Shakespeare outdoors is always a risky proposition, with actors, set, crew and audience exposed to the harshest of summer elements. During one July evening, the Illinois Shakespeare Festival performs The Tempest under overcast skies that let loose a constant drizzle once the sun sets behind the audience. The rainfall, although it gradually worsens, manages to enhance the production in physical terms: Gonzalo's cry of "on this couple drop a blessed crown" (5.1.204) and Prospero's promise of "calm seas, auspicious gales" (5.1.318) both elicit laughter from the audience, so much so that David Kortemeier as Prospero has to raise his arms to quell an amused ovation. More importantly, the gentle rain enhances the spirit of the play by complementing the poetry, with all its images of mystical rainfall and purifying tempests. After the production's quietly poignant conclusion, the appreciative cast returns the applause of the drizzle-drenched audience.

The production begins with amplified sounds of wind, rain, and thunder. Wispy cloth drapes the stage, the cloth billowing like a ship's sails in the breeze. A darker purple cloth enshrouds the gallery at the top of the stage and overhangs the 1.1 struggle of the mariners. When the mariners finally succumb to the rising tempest, the blue sails fall to engulf them, and the purple cloth that remains in the gallery is turned aside to reveal Prospero within his mystical robes. He dons the purple garment of the tempest while looking over the effects of his magic, his interconnection with the storm and his omnipresence on the island apparent.

Kortemeier, short-haired and wild-eyed, portrays Prospero as - at least initially - deeply angry and vindictive. The character's imperialism remains in evidence with his subjugation of both Caliban and Ariel, and his inherent racism and sexism are also apparent, but these traits are presented as undertones and subtleties. Director Patrick O'Gara's emphasis is upon Prospero's internal struggle, specifically the magician's struggle to forgive rather than punish. To Kortemeier's credit, the struggle always seems in doubt, with Prospero outraged and angry one moment and accepting and calm the next.

The progression from vengeance to forgiveness is illustrated within the scenic design as well as in casting choices. Prospero is often shown high in the gallery, his arms outstretched, a tall magical circle towering behind him. A series of stones creates the circle: the stones at the bottom are rugged and crude, but become more refined and elliptical in shape higher up the circle; near the top, the stones have given way to moons and planets, and finally there are stars at the apex. The evolutionary progression from rock to star counterpoints Prospero's progression from revenge to mercy.

Ariel is portrayed as a decidedly female spirit, and she is accompanied by five spirits, also female. Prospero ultimately releases these female spirits - as well as his daughter - that he has captured, enslaved, and utilized for his own purposes: "be free" (5.1.322). In addition, Ariel and the spirits mirror the goddesses of 4.1, all of whom are pointedly portrayed by men at a critical juncture. Prospero begins to emerge from the vengeful brutishness of Caliban, represented by masculinity, and ascend to the spirituality and forgiveness of Ariel, represented by femininity. The "male" goddesses, therefore, symbolize a visual crossroads for Prospero.

In light of the predominance of this theme, O'Gara suitably reduces Alonso's court to visual comic relief. Each courtier is made up in starkly bloodless white face with red cheeks, and the men sport comically villainous black mustaches. Caliban is simplified to pure physicality, a black-taloned abomination on all fours, pounding the stage and grunting like a beast. Stephano and Trinculo, on the other hand, are portrayed with such bravura and humor that their comic scenes nearly overwhelm the subtle spirit of the play. Their arrival onstage is as invigorating as the unplanned rainy breeze, with Stephano making a drunken appearance from a spotlight all the way at the back of the audience. Amid a great deal of physical comedy - mostly pratfalls, the squirting of sack, and the exaggerated thrashing of Trinculo - Stephano and Trinculo become a sheer delight.

Although Stephano and Trinculo are scene-stealing, the somber poignance of Prospero's struggle remains memorable in this painterly production. The stage itself is replete with painted circles and rings, and small globes emerge from traps. During one early scene, Prospero casts a spell as his scepter suddenly glows in the summer twilight. He walks in a slow circle while speaking his incantation. White dust escapes from the bottom of the scepter as Prospero walks, until finally a large white chalk circle has enclosed the magician.

In an almost performance-art finale, O'Gara concludes this play of forgiveness with a wordless dance by Ariel and her fellow female spirits. With Ariel at center stage and Prospero alone in the gallery, the spirits climb to positions from Ariel to her master in a circle that mirrors the ring of stones and planets above. In the mild rainfall that perfects the mood of the moment, Ariel accepts the magical book and scepter from Prospero. In a ritualistic dance, both scepter and book pass from Ariel to the spirits, then up to Prospero and back down again to Ariel via the spirits on the other side. The motion provides a subtle indication of circularity and restoration.

Finally, Ariel breaks the scepter into two, and with a flourish, buries the pieces and what they represent into hidden holes within the stage. As the last of Prospero's assumed magic disappears, the stage suddenly goes dark as the wizardry is finished, and the production is over. The overall feeling from O'Gara's production remains true to the spirit of the play - forgiveness conquering vengeance - and is artfully told with subtle grace and an occasional splash of welcome color.

Note: A version of this article was edited and published in Shakespeare Bulletin, Vol.14, No.4, Fall 1996.