Perusing through Julian Curry’s Shakespeare on Stage, I was struck by a particularly brilliant interview with Kevin Spacey regarding his interpretation of Richard II, in which the actor provided some absolutely brilliant insights into the character and detailed the modern-dress version of the play in which he had starred. Hoping to see some videos of what sounded like a fantastic performance, I was disappointed to discover that none existed. I could not find a single recording of the play. As far as the almighty internet is concerned, it might as well have not happened.
It got me thinking about the paradoxes of the theater medium. Looking at how Shakespeare’s plays have survived for 400 plus years, I guess I just assumed that plays are works that have the same permanency as books or movies. Yet while the script of a play may survive the generations, individual performances—with all of their nuances, subtle re-interpretations, or outright revisions to the text—more or less cease to exist as soon as the performance’s run is over. Even those stage performances that are recorded become an entirely different creature; if there is one thing that my time in Stratford-upon-Avon has taught me, it is that being in the audience of a live performance is an utterly distinct experience from passively watching a film.
I don’t say any of this to complain, as frustrated as I am that I will never get to see Kevin Spacey’s version of Richard II. Thinking about the ephemeral nature of plays has made me appreciate how lucky we are to see so many great shows while we can. As my fellow bloggers have noted, Arden of Faversham was profoundly excellent, yet most people—even the hardest-core theater fans—will simply never have the opportunity to enjoy it, yet we did. So, while Shakespeare on Stage did seem to tease me with hints of great plays I will never see, it has also made me more conscious of just how fortunate I am to be at the right place and the right time to experience as many fantastic plays as I am.