What a beautiful frothy confection BMH made of Twelfth Night. The courtyard at Oxford Castle transformed beautifully into an amphitheatre, with comfy cushions on the steps which radiated heat at our legs. I always admire theatre that is conjured from simple sets and minimal props, and with this area being reclaimed by day into the milling-about space for castle visitors, the set had to be sparse. One structure stood for boat, rocks, palace and prison by turns, and a cocktail cart ensured this production was boozier than Joss Whedon’s Much Ado.
Director Kate O’Connor cast both Viola and Sebastian as women, the better for them to be mistaken for each other. Eleanor Schofield was magnificent as Viola; weaving in and out of every scene, yearning heartbreakingly for Orsino, and avoiding Olivia’s clutches as best she could. Alistair Nunn was also brilliant, pompous and pathetic in all the right places as the hapless Malvolio, and no match for the terrible pranksters who beset him.
Within this small company everyone seems to have double specialisms, so Nicola Jones played a very musical Feste and was also musical director for the whole company’s songs, and my son was delighted to see that all the actors helped tidy away the set, back in their mufti, after the show.
I know Twelfth Night was written as a cheering show for the dark days of January, but it worked so beautifully on this sunlit evening. I can’t help thinking our current weather must have been exactly what Shakespeare was dreaming of for Illyria. And I think he’d be pretty pleased with the modern asides and range of musical styles that BMH added in. These made the action easier to follow for anyone new to the play, while framing the original language.
Accessibility is important for summer Shakespeare, not just for my ten-year-old companion, but also for the hordes of summer language students. I’d forgotten this type of event is a magnet for such groups, and clearly they’re important for financial viability, but if you want a restful watch, don’t sit in the middle of them! They were quite fidgety (as well I might be watching a play in 17th Century Spanish), though they were a good bellwether for the emotional aspects - they were riveted by the terrible tempest that tears the twins apart, by the sorrow and indignation of the tricked Malvolio, and by the barely deniable attraction between Orsino and his “manservant”. And the happy reconciliations made for a wonderful chorus of "Aaaahs".
The Oxford Castle Shakespeare season is now a fixture in the life of Oxford and I am delighted. Even if it had rained torrentially it would still have been great, and on a balmy evening it was perfection.