On the 20th May 2010, for a mere 80 minutes, New College’s Ante-Chapel ventured back to the Middle Ages. David Raeburn directed a production of The Summoning of Everyman, and, as a lecturer based at New College, was in a good position when it came to choosing a venue. The gawping open space of towering Gothic facades made the perfect setting for an exploration into the late medieval mindset. The actors had it made as embodiments of the insignificance of man and earthly things – they were dwarfed by the arches that scale the medieval chapel’s walls. Despite this, the staging wasn’t without faults; a certain off-stage whipping scene smacked more of comedy than the bitter tragedy of inevitable sin that we can imagine a medieval audience felt.
Happily, the performance stuck close to the original text, enabling the poetic talents of the play’s mysterious author to shine through, over 500 years after pen first touched paper. Costume was sparse, and used simply to represent the allegorical characters. Knowledge donned a gown, beauty, a ball gown, fellowship, a Hawaiian shirt. The fact that these could be found in the wardrobe of any self-respecting student (gender-permitting) said something about the relevance of the play for today’s audience.
The cast was notably inexperienced: some forgot lines or when to deliver them, whilst others, including Rory Smith as Everyman and Alex Reut-Hobbs as Death, became monotone and emotionless at the thought of everlasting punishment.
The play is not without comic potential, though, and the dark humour of impending death was effectively captured by many of the cast. As Fellowship, Nicholas Daly convincingly urged Everyman to get a round in at the pub in his final hours. Meanwhile James Banks’ satirical tone as Five Wits recreated a sense of religious controversy that is as much of an issue today as it was in the medieval world. The cast held it together for the opening night, and coaxed gasps as well as titters from their small and intimate audience.
This amateur production brought to light medieval drama’s clever concoction of farcical comedy and unavoidable tragedy, and for a fleeting moment, allowed a twenty-first century audience to imagine how medieval man might have felt under the high and watchful eyes of a omnipotent God.
Happily, the performance stuck close to the original text, enabling the poetic talents of the play’s mysterious author to shine through, over 500 years after pen first touched paper. Costume was sparse, and used simply to represent the allegorical characters. Knowledge donned a gown, beauty, a ball gown, fellowship, a Hawaiian shirt. The fact that these could be found in the wardrobe of any self-respecting student (gender-permitting) said something about the relevance of the play for today’s audience.
The cast was notably inexperienced: some forgot lines or when to deliver them, whilst others, including Rory Smith as Everyman and Alex Reut-Hobbs as Death, became monotone and emotionless at the thought of everlasting punishment.
The play is not without comic potential, though, and the dark humour of impending death was effectively captured by many of the cast. As Fellowship, Nicholas Daly convincingly urged Everyman to get a round in at the pub in his final hours. Meanwhile James Banks’ satirical tone as Five Wits recreated a sense of religious controversy that is as much of an issue today as it was in the medieval world. The cast held it together for the opening night, and coaxed gasps as well as titters from their small and intimate audience.
This amateur production brought to light medieval drama’s clever concoction of farcical comedy and unavoidable tragedy, and for a fleeting moment, allowed a twenty-first century audience to imagine how medieval man might have felt under the high and watchful eyes of a omnipotent God.